Robert E. Lee: A Biography. By Emory Thomas. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1995. Pp. 472, ISBN 0-393-03730-4.

            Can scholars say anything new about Robert E. Lee? In the wake of biographies from such scholars as Douglas Southall Freeman, Alan T. Nolan, and hosts of other campaign studies concerned with Lee’s generalship, the path of Robert E. Lee historiography seems thoroughly trodden. Yet with this biography distinguished Civil War historian Emory Thomas seeks a via media between Freeman’s nigh worship of Lee and Nolan’s iconoclasm. The result is an intensely sympathetic portrayal of Robert E. Lee as an human being and an insightful look into Lee’s generalship, though the latter receives much sparser treatment. In the main, Lee was an impressive man who boasted many admirable qualities, among them: bravery and physical (as well as moral) courage in combat; creativity of mind; rote intelligence and administrative skill; righteousness; an awareness of the need for self-mastery and restraint; the promotion of the happiness and welfare of his fellow men; fidelity to his wife; and, finally, an intense religiosity and profound sense of personal piety. But Lee, too, was a markedly flawed human being who always “want[ed] [lacked] something” (19). Any study of Lee, as Thomas readily admits, faces the very real problem that Lee (in a manner consistent with other great figures with whom he stands comparison) seldom wrote incisively or openly about himself. Lee remains largely enigmatic.

            Thomas devotes the bulk of his biographical space to Lee in the Antebellum and Postwar years. This is a welcomed approach, though it seems sure to strike some historians as incommensurate with the man’s true great achievement, namely, his mastery as commanding general of the Army of Northern Virginia. But a great strength of this approach is that it chips beyond the marble statue of Lee to his inner humanity. One gleans, for instance, that Lee (though steadfast and resolute in his marital fidelity to Mary Lee) much preferred the company of young, attractive, women to the company of men. Thomas goes so far as to consider Lee “sensuous” in his dealings with younger, more beautiful women. With such women, unsurprisingly, “his opinions seemed to matter” (107). Lee’s social grace—which Thomas implies the general acquired through living perpetually as an house guest throughout his life, and, also, through his decorous comportment at West Point—combined with the man’s handsome physique to make him quite the charmer with women. And though Lee maintained thoughtful and meaningful correspondence with other women, he nonetheless went to great lengths to “involve” his wife in these written conversations (107).

            Lee maintained throughout his life an intense commitment to the precepts, beliefs, and to the practices of evangelical Christianity. A great insight the author offers here is his treatment of Lee’s distaste for the Oxford and Tractarian movement spearheaded by John Henry Newman. Lee remained decidedly “low church” in his Episcopalian disposition and distrusted the Episcopal Church’s more conservative and traditional impulses to return to more Anglo-Catholic moorings. Lee’s religious sensibilities shed some light on his attitudes towards slavery, which Thomas correctly identifies as “enlightened within very severe limits” for the time (173). Lee, like other contemporary slaveholders, blamed slavery for its ill effects on white southern males and less for its blatant and heinous immoralities. Like the founding generation of which his father was a part, Lee viewed slavery as bound inexorably for extinction. Yet Thomas beautifully captures a moment when, after the war, Lee went forward in St. Paul’s Church, Richmond, to the Communion Rail to receive the Holy Eucharist with, and next to, an African American. This is more explicit evidence for the existence of Lee’s belief in Christianity than even George Washington can boast, another great Virginian, and one whose Christian credentials seem very much in doubt among certain biographers (Washington is reported never to have received Holy Communion).

            This reviewer doubts very much that scholars of the Old South and the Civil War Era more generally will do better in locating an intelligent, eloquent, and incisive biographical portrait of Robert E. Lee. For what it manages to achieve in such brevity (compared, of course, to Freeman’s behemoth multi-volume set), Thomas’s biography seems likely to endure as the standard, scholarly, one-volume treatment of the venerable Virginian.

Mitchell G. Klingenberg

Robert E. Lee: A Biography. By Emory M. Thomas.  New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1995.

Presenting another contribution to the study of prominent historical figures, Emory Thomas presents a new, updated single volume work on Robert E. Lee.   Finding that many Civil War scholars and Lee biographers either admire or detest this person, Thomas strives to maintain an impartial opinion, while at the same time ascertaining the “real” Lee.   His method to understanding this “enigmatic” person centers on his interpretation of various source material.  Thomas undergoes this by investigating Lee by way of his own words and subsequent actions, and remembering that Lee, although often vilified or memorialized, was human.  Ultimately, Thomas argues that in understanding Lee, one must realize and acknowledge this man’s constant struggle to maintain structure, self-control and Independence.   Furthermore, the author successfully stays true to his subject by offering a comprehensive narrative of this man’s entire life, rather than focusing solely on his career as a general during the Civil War.

Beginning the synthesis with Lee’s childhood, the author describes his formative years at his home while he lived at Stratford Hall and then amongst relatives in northern Virginia.  Born into a prominent Virginia family—the son of Light horse Harry Lee and Anne Carter – Lee’s life appeared to offer good fortune and charm.  The reality, however, remained quite different as both Lee’s parents failed to offer a stable upbringing.  His father proved a disgrace to the family as he squandered away the family’s money by participating in bad business endeavors and a propensity towards gambling.  Light Horse abandoned the family when Lee reached the age of six and then died when he turned eleven.  Perhaps disturbed by the actions of his father, Lee matured quite differently than his progenitor, becoming moral and righteous, yet also somewhat timid and non-confrontational.  The author continues by examining Lee’s education at West Point (where he proved to be an honorable student) to his career as an engineer and finally his decision to enter the Civil War on the side of the South.  Within these sections, Thomas expounds upon Lee’s familial concerns and professional obligations.  Even into adulthood, the actions of his father shaped his attitudes towards his family and left him fearing that he might fail them.  Despite this fear, Lee performed his duty as husband and father to the best of his ability, providing them with affection and guidance.   Of course, while often haunted by the ghost of Light Horse, Lee never highlighted his father’s ills and indiscretions, choosing rather to omit them.

 Within his profession, Lee’s military career offered an outlet to where he could make use of his engineering talents and solder skills.  In terms of Lee’s participation within the Civil War, the author does not stress Lee’s tactical initiatives, but rather explores the general’s motives behind his involvement and his interactions with the soldiers.  The author eloquently elaborates on Lee’s decision to side with the Confederacy stating that he did not want to fight “against his people”.  Thomas stresses that he struggled over this decision and ultimately reveals another side of Lee.  Lastly, Thomas examines Lee’s appointment as President of Washington College, and his efforts to redirect the college goals in his image.  Throughout the remainder of his life, Lee would identify himself as a soldier, but it was as president of the college that he apparently found peace. He served not only as an administrator to the students, but he finally received his own home.  Thomas closes his book with Lee’s final days, and uses this portion to present a thorough and final evaluation of this “tragic hero”.  He closes by concluding that Lee remained heavily influenced by his father’s actions, attempted to maintain a sense of morality and independence, and harbored a desire to serve his friends, family and country.

Considering this biography a “post-revisionists” work, Thomas neither congratulates nor condemns Lee’s thoughts and actions throughout the study.  Rather, the author seeks guidance from both sides of the Lee spectrum, particularly Douglas Southall Freeman’s R. E. Lee: A Biography and Tom Connelly’s The Marble Man: Robert E. Lee and His Image in American Society, and thus situates his study between these two versions.  Ultimately, he determines that Lee harbored great qualities and responded with thoughtfulness and integrity towards most situations that required his attention.  For this work, Thomas exhaustively researched both primary and secondary works related the general, particularly focusing on other scholar’s interpretation and the Robert E. Lee papers.  Overall, his study remains balanced and fair towards Robert E. Lee, and should act as an important source for scholars studying this historical figure. 

Texas Christian University                                                                                                            Amber Surmiller

Emory M. Thomas, Robert E. Lee, A Biography, New York: W.W. Norton, 1995.

            According to biographer Emory M. Thomas, Robert E. Lee was a tragic hero in the grand Shakespearian tradition. While a hard life developed in him the ability to cope in the face of frustration, Lee’s own desire for personal freedom led him to entrust his Confederate subordinates with too free a hand in planning and executing their assaults during key battles of the Civil War. Thomas believes this accounted for Lee’s greatest failures on the battlefield. Yet, like the tragic heroes of Shakespeare, Lee’s deeds proved him a great, honorable man even – and perhaps especially – “in his response to his tribulations and to his life in general” (14).

            Lee’s early years instilled in him many traits that imbued his character for the rest of his life. His father was a rogue, to be kind, and Lee knew little of him. To counter this infamy, the younger Lee ordered his life according to a consistent morality. This rigid righteousness helped him excel at West Point, which had its own strict moral code and where Lee earned the nickname “The Marble Model.” After graduation and marriage, Lee was forced to (temporarily) leave his own son at the same age his father had left him; yet, “Flight in his case was fine, even noble, because Lee found escape in doing his duty” (85). In stark contrast to his father, Lee maintained constant contact with his family. Indeed, this pattern continued well into the Civil War, wherein Lee sought out his son – an artilleryman – during the heat of the Battle of Gaines Mill.

            His early Army career similarly influenced his later decisions as a leader. As an engineer along the Mississippi River (in 1836), Lee learned the value of adapting his plan to his circumstances; he also, interestingly, learned that Congress rarely appropriated funds enough for him to fulfill their own demands. Such knowledge served Lee well in the Confederacy. Similarly, Lee’s experiences in the Mexican War – specifically, learning from General Winfield Scott – taught him lessons about tactics and strategy that he later employed to the frustration of Scott’s Union. Lee learned that through boldness, maneuverability and surprise a smaller army might overwhelm a numerically superior force; more importantly, he learned to trust his instincts as a soldier.

            After the war, Lee served as Superintendent of West Point, transferred to the cavalry (earning more experience in maneuvering few soldiers across a wide defense perimeter), and then led the expedition that decisively crushed the insurrection at Harper’s Ferry (1859). As the sectional conflict became full-fledged crisis, Lee – who “may not have felt comfortable as a slaveholder” (72) but definitely believed blacks were an inferior race incapable of freedom – Lee believed the North purposely threatened Southern vitality. Although his mentor – Winfield Scott – pleaded for Lee to command Lincoln’s army, Lee proved himself distinctly, decidedly Southern, and cast his lot with the Confederacy. Caught in an ambiguous role with no truly defined command, Lee remained capable of coping. In the mountains of western Virginia in 1861, Lee acquired two of his most recognizable symbols – his heavy beard, and his famous mount, Traveller. There, he also “discovered the deflation when an army poised to attack did not attack” (210). By the time he assumed command of the Army of Northern Virginia, Lee put all these lessons to practice.

            Time and again, from the Seven Days to Second Bull Run and on to Chancellorsville, Lee used surprise (splitting his smaller force) and maneuverability to frustrate various Union generals. Initially his lieutenants – especially Longstreet (who represented Lee’s steady calm) and Stonewall Jackson (who represented Lee’s impetuous boldness) – won him great acclaim for their ability to produce battlefield victories through the personal freedom to act that Lee’s command afforded them. But by 1864, Thomas argues, this was a “questionable crew” (320), and it was this failing that ultimately doomed Lee’s plans for defending the Confederacy. Yet, after the war Lee quickly became the “Southern symbol” (384) of the Lost Cause – he was honorable, capable, and righteous, even in defeat. Thomas borrows the estimation of Lee’s daughter to describe his life – Lee was Hero and Human, equally each and inextricably both.

            Thomas labels his work “post-revisionist,” and centers his analysis between the ebullient praise of the Douglas Southall Freeman school and the stinging contrarian critique of the revisionist school (as epitomized by Thomas Lawrence Connelly). It provides a thorough and reasonably objective accounting of Lee’s words, motivations, and deeds. Through this, one may admit that Robert E. Lee was an honorable – and in many ways admirable – man without subscribing either to hagiography or the Lost Cause myth. Thomas’s work should not be missed in the historiography of Robert E. Lee.

Matthew A. McNiece

Robert E. Lee: A Biography. By Emory M. Thomas. (New York: Norton, 1995), 472 p.

          Robert E. Lee, the man, is something of a mystery.  His accomplishments as general of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia are well known and documented.  Some areas of the South consider him a deity in while other areas would petition to have him canonized as a saint.  In recent years, movies like Gettysburg and Gods and Generals, added to Robert E. Lee’s image and the confusion and intense debate that surrounds him.  In fact, now when any movie of the Civil War beckons, instead of debating how truly accurate it intends to be, the major debate that flares up is who should play the part of General Lee.  Americans, particularly those with roots in the South, find it difficult to portray Lee as anything less than God-like.  Robert E. Lee a human being?  There is no way possible that he could be a man.  Because of this sentiment, many books dealing with the study of Lee are somewhat less than objective. Emory Thomas attempts to provide an objective biography of Lee and make him whole again for the sake of history. A post revisionist account of Lee, Thomas succeeds in bridging the frustrations and frailties that Lee incurred with his amazing response to his tribulations and constructs a fine biography that humanizes Lee to a degree.

          Thomas looks at Lee, the man, not the general.  In doing so, the author examines the different roles Lee led throughout his life: dutiful son, army engineer, slave owner, doting father, and army commander.  Thomas’s Lee shapes up as a man shy and socially awkward, non confrontational, with a proud sense of duty and obligation to the family.  The author contends that Lee was a frustrated man who lacked the one thing that would grant him happiness and because of this, Lee maintained a strict sense of duty in the hopes of attaining inner peace.  What that one thing is unknown as Thomas refers to it as indefinable.  At this point Thomas’ penchant for over the top psychoanalysis rears its head but for the most part, it does not damage the text.

          The coverage of Lee’s prewar years and career is interesting and adds a dimension to the study of Lee that most tend to overlook.  However, it also points out the lack of balance in the text.  The vast majority of the book deals with the antebellum and postwar years.  The coverage of Lee’s Confederate adventure is somewhat lacking.  It would seem that the most important period during Lee’s life receives sometimes cursory treatment.  Despite this brevity, the chapters detailing Lee’s experiences during the war are insightful.  Thomas’ ability to interweave Lee’s religious convictions and tribulations with his military philosophy is entertaining and helpful. 

          The postwar chapters also offer insight into how Lee attempted to reconcile his part in the war and readjust quietly to the Reconstruction process and life in the new South.  Thomas believes that Lee attempted to do this without sacrificing his political principles or abandoning his views on race.  The text for the most part seems short.  One would think that a man of Robert E. Lee’s stature would deserve a big, fat biography, of which undoubtedly there are.  Thomas on the other hand creates in this short biography a good intriguing one volume account of the man, Robert E. Lee.

          Due to its short nature, some of the writing is choppy and offers flowery language useful elsewhere.  Sometimes it appears Thomas is looking at humans in general rather than at Lee as a human being.  However, the author does succeed in striking a balance at being empathetic without being uncritical.  A non confrontational account of the man and legend, Thomas’ book is very useful in ascertaining the difficulties Lee had maintaining the line between his private and public life.

Halen J. Watkins