What do you think?
Rate this book


After his surrender at Appomattox, Robert E. Lee lived only another five years--the forgotten chapter of an extraordinary life. These were his finest hours, when he did more than any other American to heal the wounds between the North and South. Flood draws on new research to create an intensely human and a "wonderful, tragic, powerful...story for which we have been waiting over a century" --Theodore H. White.
308 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1981
In June he had petitioned President Johnson for the restoration of his civil rights. Although he had then counseled others to take the controversial oath of allegiance, he had not included such a signed oath in his application for pardon, because word had not yet been received in Richmond that such a document must be among the papers required in special cases such as his.
Now, to perfect his appeal and to do all that he could to protect the college, he signed the oath of allegiance to the United States. Being a meticulous man, Lee sent this vital document to Washington through reliable channels, but no Federal authority acknowledged its receipt. Believing that this indicated the government’s desire to keep him just where they had him -- neither pardoned on the one hand, nor brought to trial under the treason indictment on the other -- Lee did not pursue the matter.
What in fact happened to this piece of paper was bizarre. It came to the desk of Secretary of State William H. Seward, the man who was soon to buy Alaska from Russia. Apparently thinking that the routing of this document to him guaranteed that it had already been recorded on Lee’s behalf, he gave it to a friend for a souvenir. The friend put it in a pigeonhole in his desk and forgot about it. It was found in a bundle of papers in the National Archives one hundred and five years later.
The mythic Lee of Southern history became in time a man who never made a mistake, and who had no faults, not only the perfect gentleman, but the perfect warrior. Thus the blame for Malvern Hill was transferred to Jackson; the blame for Gettysburg was assigned to Longstreet, or at least to Longstreet, Stewart and Ewell; and Lee’s dislike of the institution of slavery was given more prominence than his pessimism about the future development of former slaves and freedmen. That Lee was human; that he sometimes made mistakes, even major ones; that his deeply held, sincere views on race do not measure up to contemporary standards, or even th standards of some enlightened northerners in his own time, should not be flinched from. Lee loses nothing by being portrayed as a fallible human being. His strengths were his courage, his sense of duty, his religious belief, his military genius, his constant search to do right, and his natural and instinctive courtesy -- he did not hesitate to shake a black man’s hand or kneel beside him in prayer -- but he did not aspire to sainthood, indeed the idea would have seemed to him blasphemous, and he would have been appalled by the fact that he has been elevated to a kind of secular sainthood since his death.
... in which Judge Brockenbrough’s son was shot after he attacked an African-American who had not stepped into the gutter when his mother passed. The students sent out a vigilante committee to find the black man and nearly perpetrated another lynching when he was caught. Some of the collegians threatened to storm the jail and "shoot the negro."Flood, on the other hand, offers a more detailed account of the same:
They “refused to give the pavement,” as a student put it, forcing Mrs. Brockenbrough and her son to step into the gutter to get around them and to their front gate. Enraged, young Francis saw his mother to the door, came back down the walk, and attacked one of the blacks with a stick. The black drew a pistol and shot him in the chest. ... The black, Caesar Griffin, would certainly have been hanging from a tree had it not been for one of those timely arrivals that had quelled earlier disturbances. This time the students had a rope around their intended victim’s neck and had marched him to the courthouse square—the preferred place for lynchings, since it implied that justice had been done. Assistant Professor Harry Estill, a former Confederate captain, strode out of the night. The slender, black-bearded veteran ordered the students to turn their captive over to the jailer, and they did.Lee for his part was away at the time but apparently in communication with local officials.
“Both army and Freedmen’s Bureau officials warned Lee (as well as Virginia Military Institute head Francis Smith) that such “rambunctious” behavior needed to be curtailed. Lee had sent out advisories forbidding his students to take part in these activities, and in both instances Lee promised army and city officials that those participating would be penalized. The incidents did nothing to help Washington College or Virginia’s ability to shed northern supervision, and Lee undoubtedly hoped to forestall future mischief.Pryor then makes the following inference of Lee's character:
But at best, he gave out ambiguous signals. The number of accusations against Washington College boys indicates that he either punished the racial harassment more laxly than other misdemeanors, or turned a blind eye to it.”Conversely, Flood gives an account of another incident in which five Washington students were involved in an altercation with students at the Freedman's Bureau (which taught classes of blacks), assaulting one with a pistol and were thrown in jail.The four jailed students were tried by the mayor and fined for disturbing the peace. When they were released, they were asked to come to Lee’s office. As they entered, they saw that the student from Alabama who had escaped detection was also there, voluntarily coming forward. This youth, who had carried the pistol and struck the black man, explained what had happened and said that the fault was entirely his. Lee nodded and instantly expelled him. The others he formally reprimanded and put on probation. By the time an official of the Freedman’s Bureau wrote Lee a letter of complaint and inquiry, the offender was back in Alabama, and Lee’s explanation of the actions he had taken satisfied the Freedman’s Bureau. Lee understood better than anyone that this was now a situation in which one wrongful, passionate pull of a trigger could close Washington College, perhaps permanently.
What comes across in Flood's book is that, as administrator of an institution struggling to re-establish it's footing in the post-war South as well as being conscious of his rehabilitation with the North, not to mention his unwavering attention to personal honor, Lee was particularly conscious of setting a public example, mindful that any mis-step on his part would jeopardize the project to which he was committed and would surely be exploited by the press and Northern antagonists (as was indeed the case). Consequently, it seems to me very much out of character for Lee to demand so much of his students in all other aspects of their lives, yet give them free reign and turn a blind eye -- as Pryor suggests -- towards their behavior to blacks.
Undoubtedly such activities and examples of racial bigotry did occur and there were probably many (we are speaking, after all, of the shortly post-war South) -- Flood acknowledges many of those of which Pryor speaks -- yet, there is no indication that Lee himself personally countenanced or even implicitly encouraged by "turning a blind eye to" racial harassment or criminal actions on the part of his students. It cannot even be said to be an argument from silence, given the presence of such counter-examples of Lee opposing such behavior.
Suffice to say based on my own biographical readings of the man, my recommendation is to avail one's self of multiple accounts and sources, gathering the facts as they are available. This seems imperative inasmuch as from browsing so many online discussions Ms. Pryor's revelations of Lee's true character are simply accepted as unquestionable.