Robert E. Lee: What Most People Get Wrong About the Confederate General

Robert E. Lee: What Most People Get Wrong About the Confederate General

He was a man of contradictions. Honestly, if you look at the letters he wrote to his wife, Mary, versus the tactical orders he gave at Gettysburg, you see two different people. Robert E. Lee remains the most polarizing figure in American history for a reason. Some see a marble statue of a "Christian Gentleman." Others see a man who committed treason to protect a system of human bondage.

Most people know he led the Army of Northern Virginia. But who was Robert E. Lee before the war, and why did he make the choice that defined his legacy? It wasn't a snap decision. It was an agonizing week spent in a house called Arlington, pacing the floors while his country tore itself apart.

The Myth of the Reluctant Warrior

We often hear that Lee hated slavery. That's a bit of a stretch. While he once called it a "moral and political evil" in an 1856 letter, he followed that up by saying the "painful discipline" of slavery was necessary for the instruction of the Black race. He wasn't an abolitionist. Not even close. He was a man of his time, deeply embedded in the aristocratic planter class of Virginia.

His father was "Light-Horse Harry" Lee, a Revolutionary War hero who ended up in debtor's prison. That shaped Robert. He obsessed over duty and reputation because his father had squandered both. At West Point, he didn't earn a single demerit. Zero. Can you imagine? Four years of military school without one slip-up. He was perfect. Or at least, he tried to be.

Then came the Mexican-American War. This is where the legend actually starts. Serving under Winfield Scott, Lee was a scouting genius. Scott literally called him "the very best soldier I ever saw in the field." By 1861, when the Civil War broke out, Lee was the man everyone wanted. Abraham Lincoln offered him command of the entire Union Army. He said no.

Why He Chose Virginia Over the Union

It's the question that haunts his biography. Why? He loved the United States. He had served the flag for over thirty years. But back then, people viewed their home state differently than we do now. It was like a different country.

"I cannot raise my hand against my birthplace, my home, my children," he said. He resigned his commission. He went home. And then he took command of Virginia’s forces. It was a choice that led to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of men.

If you go to Arlington National Cemetery today, you’re standing on Lee’s front porch. The Union army seized his estate early in the war. They started burying the dead right there in his flower garden so he could never live there again. It was a personal, bitter move by the North.

The Generalship: Brilliance or Blunder?

Lee was a gambler. That's the secret to his success at places like Chancellorsville. He was consistently outnumbered, sometimes two-to-one, yet he would split his army and attack from the side. It was insane. And it worked—until it didn't.

At Gettysburg, his intuition failed him. He sent Pickett’s Charge across an open field against the advice of his best subordinate, James Longstreet. It was a slaughter. Lee took the blame, telling his retreating soldiers, "It is all my fault."

Historians like Elizabeth Brown Pryor, who wrote Reading the Man, point out that Lee was often frustrated by his own soldiers' lack of discipline. He expected everyone to be as perfect as he was at West Point. When they weren't, he got "the Lee growl"—a terrifying temper he usually kept under wraps.

The Reality of Slavery at Arlington

We have to talk about the Custis estate. Lee didn't just inherit land; he inherited people. When his father-in-law, George Washington Parke Custis, died, he left Lee in charge of several plantations. The will said the enslaved people should be freed within five years. Lee didn't do it right away. He kept them working to pay off the estate’s debts.

There are accounts from enslaved people like Wesley Norris, who claimed Lee had them whipped for trying to escape and then told the overseer to "lay it on well." This complicates the image of the "kindly" general. It's the gritty, uncomfortable reality that many textbooks ignored for a hundred years.

Life After the Sword

After Appomattox, Lee didn't go into hiding. He became the president of Washington College (now Washington and Lee University). He told Southerners to stop fighting and become good citizens. "Abandon all these local animosities, and make your sons Americans," he wrote.

But he also opposed giving Black Americans the right to vote. He wanted a return to the old social order, just without the legal framework of slavery. He died in 1870, likely from a stroke, leaving behind a legacy that the "Lost Cause" movement would later polish into a myth.

👉 See also: Federation for American Immigration Reform Wiki: What You Actually Need to Know

Things You Probably Didn't Know

  • He didn't own a house for most of his life. He lived in military barracks or his wife’s family home.
  • He was obsessed with his horse, Traveller. He talked to that horse like it was his best friend.
  • He was a terrible businessman. Most of his life was spent struggling with the debts his father and father-in-law left behind.

Understanding who Robert E. Lee was requires looking at him through two lenses at once. You have to see the brilliant military strategist who almost broke the United States in half, and you have to see the man who defended a slave-holding republic. He wasn't a cartoon villain, but he wasn't a saint either. He was a Virginian who put his state above his country.

To truly grasp the impact of Lee's life, the best next step is to look at the primary sources yourself. Read the "Lee-Custis" papers or the archives at the Virginia Museum of History & Culture. Don't just take a textbook's word for it. Visit the Arlington House website to see how the National Park Service now interprets the dual history of the site as both a memorial and a former plantation. Seeing the physical space where he made his decision to resign helps ground the abstract history in a very real, very heavy reality.