The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1873-06-15

signed himself to his fate. For moment
those who looked on him saw him almost
overcome; and the first words of complaint
ever heard from his lips during the war
broke sharply forth: 81 had rather die a
thousand deaths!" Musing sadly for few
seconds, as his mems favorite cry broke on
his ear, "There's uncle Robert" in deep,
sad tones he said to those near him, " How
soon could end all this, and be ut rest.
'Tis but to ride down the line, aud give the
word, and all would be over" Then pre-
sertly, recovering his natural voice, he an
swered one who urged that the surrender
might be misunderstood, " That is not the
question. The question is; whether 1t is
sibility." Then, after a brief silence, he
added, with q sigh, cit is our duty to live.
What will become of the wives and chill
dren of the South if we are not here to pro-
tect them 2" So saying, he sent in his Gag
Of truce without further hesitation to Grant.
The coming action was stayed on the in
slant, and the struggle of the COnfederscy
was virtually over.
OF sbe interview between the great com
manders which followed, enough has been
already written. Those who would under
stand how highly Lee was held in honor by
the very men who fought hardest against
him, should study the story of that eventful
meeting, not in the loving records of Mr..
Cooke, or of other writer's whose sympathies
were with his efforts, but in the pages of
| the warmest partisans of the cause of the
Uaion-in such works, for instance, as the
| we'll known memoir called "With Sheridan
in Lees Last Campaign, where the ardent
! Northern writer, almost against his will,
makes the chief of the captive army the
hero of the scene. Or they may read it in
! the cold lines of the anti-s slavery historian
of the war, where no word of bitterness is
ever missing for the politicians whose cause
Lees arm had upheld:
a. A.
house," says Dr.. Draper (vol. I'LL p. 1929, he
| had indeed made q grand defence. He had
| shed over Virginia monrnful glory. In the
wilderness, at sPottsylvania, ON the Anna, at
| retreat, he had struggled against preponder-
| ating power. For whole year, he had tried
| to stay the hand of Fate No one can read his
gallant acts without lamenting that they had
not been in the cause of human freedom and
| national unity"
His parting words to his troops are HIS
! torical. "Men who have fought through the
war together. have done the best 1 could
| for you. MY heart is too full to say more"
But it is not SO well known that whilst he
uttered them with voice slightly trembling,
| tears from the rough soldiers he was parting
from answered those in his eyes, as they
pressed round him to wiring his hand loving
ly, and offer their response in the rude
prayer, May God help you, General !" In
his last army order, issued the next morn
luR3 no EOpllcO W Vholl Aou Will
take with you to your homes the satisfaction
| that proceeds from, the consciousness of
duty faithfully performed, and / earnestly
pray that merciful God will extend to you
His blessing and protection" His last Off
| cial act was to intercede with Grant that the
mounted soldiers might be granted the use
| of their horses, so as to set at once to work
on their neglected farms; favor the Fede-
raj commander at once accorded with a
readiness as courteous in the giver as it was
| polite in the disturbed state of the country.
Indeed, the whole conduct of Gen. Grant
| on this memorable occasion reflects on him
a credit which the severest critic of his che
Quered career can never lessen. That the
two armies, SO fiercely opposed for four
long years, could have parted as they did
without one word but those of sympathy
and respect, seems to presage with certain
ty the day when the last wounds of the
recovered Union shall be fully healed, and
the great constitutional victory of the
rights of the Federation over those OF
the States shall be spoken of will
as little bitterness in South and North
as its petty prototype, the War Of
Switzerland.
Leaving his army dispersed ON parole
Lee passed into Richmond, decieing the
, public honors which, even in their hour o
} humiliation, it's people sought to offer him
} Living here in the strictest retirement, he
. began his new duty of Cancellation, from
> which he never ceased while life remained
: When he received from a Federal genera
\ a private and friendly warning that it wa
, resolved to arraign him for treason, despit,
. the military protection of his capitulation
: checking his informant's violent indigua
ton he replied with a smile, Sir, we mus
t forgive our enemies. Since the war began
: not a day has passed that l did not pra!
> for them" But the danger that the Unior
3 would be discredited by the dishonorabl,
3 vengeance soon passed away. The firm
ness of Gen. Grant upon this point i'm
D pressed itself on the hasty and violent maj
{ whom the murder of Lincoln had mad
!, President; and when Andrew johnson
. ceased to encourage the thought, Jesse
4 partisans gave it up, and Lee continued
a unmolested in his privacy. In vain hi
t fellow citizens besought his attendance o
o their public meetings, when these were ono
b more resumed. His one duty he judged tt
Q be to set an example of personal submis
f sion to the people who looked on him a
0 the chief representative of the South (; an,
I for this reason he steadfastly discouraged
r all premature and useless remon-tauce a
D the arbitrary measures by which it wa