On April 9, 1865, in the parlor of a Virginia farmhouse, two men sat across from one another. Robert E. Lee, commander of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia, had just surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant. The meeting ended four years of bloody conflict, but it left a lasting question. What did Grant truly think of the man he had spent years pursuing?
To understand Grant’s view, it helps to start long before the war. Both men were products of West Point. Lee graduated in 1829, second in his class with a spotless record. Grant followed in 1843, with middling academics but a natural gift with horses.
Their paths first crossed during the Mexican-American War. Lee served as a captain of engineers and helped scout routes that turned the tide at Cerro Gordo. Grant was a young lieutenant at the time. Grant later wrote that he had known Lee in the old army, but he did not suppose Lee would remember him due to the difference in age and rank.
In the 1850s, their careers moved in opposite directions. Lee rose steadily, becoming a colonel by 1855. He was respected for his engineering skills and his family connections. His father was a Revolutionary War hero, and he had married into George Washington’s lineage.
Grant’s path was far less smooth. He resigned from the army in 1854 amid rumors of drinking. He struggled as a farmer, a real estate agent, and a clerk in his family’s leather store. When the Civil War began in 1861, Lee followed Virginia out of the Union, turning down command of the Union Army. Grant, an Ohioan, volunteered immediately and started as a colonel of volunteers.
As the war progressed, their reputations grew in opposite directions. Lee became the South’s military hero after victories at Second Manassas and Fredericksburg. Northern newspapers portrayed him as nearly invincible. Grant, meanwhile, built his name in the West with victories at Fort Donelson, Shiloh, and Vicksburg. His nickname became “Unconditional Surrender” Grant.
By 1864, President Lincoln placed Grant in charge of all Union armies. His orders were clear. Lee’s army was the objective. Wherever Lee went, Grant was to follow. Grant did not view Lee as a mythical figure. He saw him as the key to the Confederacy. Crush Lee’s army, and the rebellion would fall.
Grant was not afraid of Lee. In his memoirs, completed just before his death in 1885, he addressed Lee’s reputation directly. He wrote that much of the national army and most of the press had clothed Lee with superhuman abilities. But Grant had known him personally and knew that he was mortal.
The Overland Campaign of 1864 became their brutal chess match. Grant crossed the Rapidan River and pushed into the Wilderness. Lee struck hard and inflicted heavy casualties. But Grant did not retreat as his predecessors had. He moved south to Spotsylvania, where fighting at the Bloody Angle was savage.
Grant kept pressing. He fought at North Anna and Cold Harbor, where he later regretted a costly final charge. But his strategy was working. He was wearing Lee down through attrition. In June 1864, Grant wrote to Chief of Staff Henry Halleck that Lee’s army was really whipped. He believed the prisoners they were taking showed it clearly.
Grant thought Lee’s successes were helped by circumstances. Lee had interior lines for quick movement, strong Southern support, and even sympathy from Northern critics and European observers. Grant reflected that Lee was a man who needed sunshine. He was supported by the unanimous voice of the South and treated like a demigod.
Grant compared Lee to Confederate General Joe Johnston, whom he had faced in the West. Grant said he never had as much anxiety with Lee in his front as he did with Johnston. He found Johnston trickier and more unpredictable. Lee, in Grant’s view, was predictable in his defensiveness. He often entrenched and rarely seized the offensive.
During the siege of Petersburg, which lasted from June 1864 to April 1865, Grant cut Lee’s supply lines. Lee’s counterattacks failed with heavy losses. By early 1865, the end was near. Richmond fell on April 3. Lee fled west, hoping to link up with Johnston in North Carolina.
Grant pursued. On April 7, he wrote to Lee, saying the result of the last week must convince him of the hopelessness of further resistance. He asked for Lee’s surrender to avoid more bloodshed. Lee hesitated at first, but on April 9, the two men met at Appomattox Courthouse.
Grant arrived muddy and without a sword, wearing a private’s blouse with general’s straps. Lee was immaculate, with his sword at his side. They shook hands cordially. They spoke briefly about their time in the Mexican War. Lee vaguely remembered it.
Lee steered the conversation to surrender. Grant offered generous terms. Officers could keep their side arms and horses. Men were paroled and allowed to go home. There would be no trials for treason. When Lee mentioned his starving troops, Grant ordered 25,000 rations.
As they parted, Grant doffed his hat. Lee returned the gesture. Grant later wrote that he could not know what Lee felt, as Lee’s face was impassable. But Grant’s own feelings were not jubilant. He wrote that he felt sad and depressed, not rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had fought so long and valiantly.
Grant was clear about the cause. He believed it was one of the worst for which a people ever fought, and one for which there was the least excuse. He respected Lee as a soldier, but he saw Lee’s cause as utterly wrong. Grant believed the war’s root was slavery, and Lee’s defense of it was misguided.
The next day, the two met again on horseback between the lines. They spoke pleasantly for about half an hour about peace prospects. Grant urged Lee to advise other Confederate armies to surrender. Lee said he would need to consult with Jefferson Davis first.
After the war, their paths crossed once more. Grant became president in 1869 and championed Reconstruction and black rights. Lee became president of Washington College, now Washington and Lee University. On May 1, 1869, Lee visited the White House. The meeting was brief, about 15 minutes. It was cordial but formal.
Lee died in 1870 and became a Southern icon. Grant, battling throat cancer, finished his memoirs in 1885. The book became a best-seller and secured his family’s future. In it, he repeated his view that Lee was able but favored by circumstance.
So what did Grant truly think of Lee? He admired the man. He pitied his defeat. But he firmly believed Lee fought for an evil cause. There was no hatred. Grant even supported Lee’s pardon.
Grant saw Lee as a worthy foe, mortal like any other, whose legend outshone reality. Their story is a reminder that heroes are human, causes matter, and mercy can heal. Grant looked ahead to reunion. Lee returned to educate the South’s youth. Through Grant’s eyes, Lee was no demigod. He was a brave man on the wrong side of history.