A. I do not recollect it, nor do I know it was ever required. I was

regularly commissioned in the army of the Confederate States, but I do

not really recollect that that oath was required. If it was required,

I have no doubt I took it; or, if it had been required, I would have

taken it.

Q. Is there any other matter which you desire to state to the

committee?

A. No, sir; I am ready to answer any question which you think proper

to put to me.

NEGRO CITIZENSHIP.

Q. How would an amendment to the Constitution be received by the

secessionists, or by the people at large, allowing the colored people,

or certain classes of them, to exercise the right of voting at

elections?

A. I think, so far as I can form an opinion, in such an event they

would object.

Q. They would object to such an amendment?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. Suppose an amendment should nevertheless be adopted, conferring on

the blacks the right of suffrage, would that, in your opinion, lead to

scenes of violence or breaches of the peace between the two races in

Virginia?

A. I think it would excite unfriendly feelings between the two races;

I cannot pretend to say to what extent it would go, but that would be

the result.

Q. Are you acquainted with the proposed amendment now pending in the

Senate of the United States?

A. No, sir, I am not; I scarcely ever read a paper. [The substance

of the proposed amendment was here explained to the witness by Mr.

Conkling.] So far as I can see, I do not think that the State of

Virginia would object to it.

Q. Would she consent, under any circumstances, to allow the

black people to vote, even if she were to gain a large number of

representatives in Congress?

A. That would depend upon her interests; if she had the right of

determining that, I do not see why she would object; if it were to her

interest to admit these people to vote, that might overrule any other

objection that she had to it.

Q. What, in your opinion, would be the practical result? Do you think

that Virginia would consent to allow the negro to vote?

A. I think that at present she would accept the smaller

representation; I do not know what the future may develop; if it

should be plain to her that these persons will vote properly and

understandingly, she might admit them to vote.

Q. (By Mr. Blow.) Do you not think it would turn a good deal, in the

cotton States, upon the value of the labor of the black people? Upon

the amount which they produce?

A. In a good many States in the South, and in a good many counties in

Virginia, if the black people were allowed to vote, it would, I think,

exclude proper representation--that is, proper, intelligent people

would not be elected, and, rather than suffer that injury, they would

not let them vote at all.

Q. Do you not think that the question as to whether any Southern State

would allow the colored people the right of suffrage in order to

increase representation would depend a good deal on the amount which

the colored people might contribute to the wealth of the State, in

order to secure two things--first, the larger representation, and,

second, the influence desired from those persons voting?

A. I think they would determine the question more in reference

to their opinion as to the manner in which those votes would be

exercised, whether they consider those people qualified to vote; my

own opinion is, that at this time they cannot vote intelligently, and

that giving them the right of suffrage would open the door to a good

deal of demagogism, and lead to embarrassments in various ways; what

the future may prove, how intelligent they may become, with what

eyes they may look upon the interests of the State in which they may

reside, I cannot say more than you can.

The above extract presents the main portion of General Lee's

testimony, and is certainly an admirable exposition of the clear

good sense and frankness of the individual. Once or twice there is

obviously an under-current of dry satire, as in his replies upon the

subject of the Confederate bonds. When asked whether he remembered at

what time these bonds were made payable, he replied that his "general

recollection was, that they were made payable six months after

a declaration of peace." The correction was at once made by his

interrogator in the words "six months after _the ratification of a

treaty of peace_" etc. "I think they ran that way," replied General

Lee. "So that," retorted his interrogator, "the bonds are not yet due

by their terms?" General Lee's reply was, "I suppose, _unless it is

considered that there is a peace now, they are not due_."

This seems to have put an abrupt termination to the examination on

that point. To the question whether he had taken an oath of allegiance

to the Confederate Government, he replied: "I do not recollect having

done so, but it is possible that when I was commissioned I did; I do

not recollect whether it was required; if it was required, I took it,

or if it had been required, I would have taken it."

If this reply of General Lee be attentively weighed by the reader,

some conception may be formed of the bitter pang which he must have

experienced in sending in, as he did, to the Federal Government,

his application for pardon. The fact cannot be concealed that this

proceeding on the part of General Lee was a subject of deep regret to

the Southern people; but there can be no question that his motive was

disinterested and noble, and that he presented, in so doing, the most

remarkable evidence of the true greatness of his character. He had no

personal advantage to expect from a pardon; cared absolutely nothing

whether he were "pardoned" or not; and to one so proud, and so

thoroughly convinced of the justice of the cause in which he had

fought, to appear as a supplicant must have been inexpressibly

painful. He, nevertheless, took this mortifying step--actuated

entirely by that sense of duty which remained with him to the last,

overmastering every other sentiment of his nature. He seems in this,

as in many other things, to have felt the immense import of his

example. The old soldiers of his army, and thousands of civilians,

were obliged to apply for amnesty, or remain under civic disability.

Brave men, with families depending upon them, had been driven to this

painful course, and General Lee seems to have felt that duty to

his old comrades demanded that he, too, should swallow this bitter

draught, and share their humiliation as he had shared their dangers

and their glory. If this be not the explanation of the motives

controlling General Lee's action, the writer is unable to account for

the course which he pursued. That it is the sole explanation, the

writer no more doubts than he doubts the fact of his own existence.

XIX.

GENERAL LEE'S LAST YEARS AND DEATH.

For about five years--from the latter part of 1865 nearly to the end

of 1870--General Lee continued to concentrate his entire attention and

all his energies upon his duties as President of Washington College,

to which his great name, and the desire of Southern parents to have

their sons educated under a guide so illustrious, attracted, as we

have said, more than five hundred students. The sedentary nature of

these occupations was a painful trial to one so long accustomed to

lead a life of activity; but it was not in the character of the

individual to allow personal considerations to interfere with the

performance of his duty; and the laborious supervision of the

education of this large number of young gentlemen continued, day after

day, and year after year, to occupy his mind and his time, to the

exclusion, wellnigh, of every other thought. His personal popularity

with the students was very great, and it is unnecessary to add that

their respect for him was unbounded. By the citizens of Lexington, and

especially the graver and more pious portion, he was regarded with a

love and admiration greater than any felt for him during the progress

of his military career.

This was attributable, doubtless, to the franker and clearer

exhibition by General Lee, in his latter years, of that extraordinary

gentleness and sweetness, culminating in devoted Christian piety,

which--concealed from all eyes, in some degree, during the war--now

plainly revealed themselves, and were evidently the broad foundation

and controlling influences of his whole life and character. To

speak first of his gentleness and moderation in all his views and

utterances. Of these eminent virtues--eminent and striking, above

all, in a defeated soldier with so much to embitter him--General Lee

presented a very remarkable illustration. The result of the war seemed

to have left his great soul calm, resigned, and untroubled by the

least rancor. While others, not more devoted to the South, permitted

passion and sectional animosity to master them, and dictate acts and

expressions full of bitterness toward the North, General Lee refrained

systematically from every thing of that description; and by simple

force of greatness, one would have said, rose above all prejudices and

hatreds of the hour, counselling, and giving in his own person to all

who approached him the example of moderation and Christian charity. He

aimed to keep alive the old Southern traditions of honor and virtue;

but not that sectional hatred which could produce only evil. To a lady

who had lost her husband in the war, and, on bringing her two sons to

the college, indulged in expressions of great bitterness toward the

North, General Lee said, gently: "Madam, do not train up your children

in hostility to the Government of the United States. Remember that we

are one country now. Dismiss from your mind all sectional feeling, and

bring them up to be Americans."

A still more suggestive exhibition of his freedom from rancor was

presented in an interview which is thus described:

"One day last autumn the writer saw General Lee standing at his

gate, talking pleasantly to an humbly-clad man, who seemed very

much pleased at the cordial courtesy of the great chieftain, and

turned off, evidently delighted, as we came up. After exchanging

salutations, the general said, pointing to the retreating

form, 'That is one of our old soldiers, who is in necessitous

circumstances.' I took it for granted that it was some veteran

Confederate, when the noble-hearted chieftain quietly added,

'He fought on the other side, but we must not think of that.' I

afterward ascertained--not from General Lee, for he never alluded

to his charities--that he had not only spoken kindly to this 'old

soldier' who had 'fought on the other side,' but had sent him on

his way rejoicing in a liberal contribution to his necessities."

Of the extent of this Christian moderation another proof was given

by the soldier, at a moment when he might not unreasonably have been

supposed to labor under emotions of the extremest bitterness. Soon

after his return to Richmond, in April, 1865, when the _immedicabile

vulnus_ of surrender was still open and bleeding, a gentleman was

requested by the Federal commander in the city to communicate to

General Lee the fact that he was about to be indicted in the United

States courts for treason.[1] In acquitting himself of his commission,

the gentleman expressed sentiments of violent indignation at such a

proceeding. But these feelings General Lee did not seem to share. The

threat of arraigning him as a traitor produced no other effect upon

him than to bring a smile to his lips; and, taking the hand of his

friend, as the latter rose to go, he said, in his mildest tones: "We

must forgive our enemies. I can truly say that not a day has passed

since the war began that I have not prayed for them."

[Footnote 1: This was afterward done by one of the Federal judges, but

resulted in nothing.]

The incidents here related define the views and feelings of General

Lee as accurately as they could be set forth in a whole volume. The

defeated commander, who could open his poor purse to "one of _our_ old

soldiers who _fought on the other side_," and pray daily during the

bitterest of conflicts for his enemies, must surely have trained his

spirit to the perfection of Christian charity.

Of the strength and controlling character of General Lee's religious

convictions we have more than once spoken in preceding pages of this

volume. These now seemed to exert a more marked influence over his

life, and indeed to shape every action and utterance of the man.

During the war he had exhibited much greater reserve upon this the

most important of all subjects which can engage the attention of

a human being; and, although he had been from an early period, we

believe, a communicant of the Protestant Episcopal Church, he

seldom discussed religious questions, or spoke of his own feelings,

presenting in this a marked contrast, as we have said, to his

illustrious associate General Jackson.

Even during the war, however, as the reader has seen in our notices of

his character at the end of 1863, General Lee's piety revealed itself

in conversations with his chaplains and other good men; and was not

concealed from the troops, as on the occasion of the prayer-meeting

in the midst of the fighting at Mine Run. On another occasion, when

reviewing his army near Winchester, he was seen to raise his hat to a

chaplain with the words, "I salute the Church of God;" and again, near

Petersburg, was observed kneeling in prayer, a short distance from

the road, as his troops marched by. Still another incident of the

period--that of the war--will be recorded here in the words of the

Rev. J. William Jones, who relates it:

"Not long before the evacuation of Petersburg, the writer was one

day distributing tracts along the trenches, when he perceived

a brilliant cavalcade approaching. General Lee--accompanied by

General John B. Gordon, General A.P. Hill, and other general

officers, with their staffs--was inspecting our lines and

reconnoitring those of the enemy. The keen eye of Gordon

recognized, and his cordial grasp detained, the humble

tract-distributor, as he warmly inquired about his work. General

Lee at once reined in his horse and joined in the conversation,

the rest of the party gathered around, and the humble colporteur

thus became the centre of a group of whose notice the highest

princes of earth might well be proud. General Lee asked if we ever

had calls for prayer-books, and said that if we would call at his

headquarters he would give us some for distribution--'that some

friend in Richmond had given him a new prayer-book, and, upon his

saying that he would give his old one, that he had used ever since

the Mexican War, to some soldier, the friend had offered him a

dozen new books for the old one, and he had, of course, accepted

so good an offer, and now had twelve instead of one to give away.'

We called at the appointed hour. The general had gone out on some

important matter, but (even amid his pressing duties) had left

the prayer-books with a member of his staff, with instructions

concerning them. He had written on the fly-leaf of each,

'Presented by R.E. Lee,' and we are sure that those of the gallant

men to whom they were given who survive the war will now cherish

them as precious legacies, and hand them down as heirlooms in

their families."

These incidents unmistakably indicate that General Lee concealed,

under the natural reserve of his character, an earnest religious

belief and trust in God and our Saviour. Nor was this a new sentiment

with him. After his death a well-worn pocket Bible was found in his

chamber, in which was written, "R.E. Lee, Lieutenant-Colonel, U.S.

Army." It was plain, from this, that, even during the days of his

earlier manhood, in Mexico and on the Western prairies, he had read

his Bible, and striven to conform his life to its teachings.

With the retirement of the great soldier, however, from the cares of

command which necessarily interfered in a large degree with pious

exercises and meditations, the religious phase of his character

became more clearly defined, assuming far more prominent and striking

proportions. The sufferings of the Southern people doubtless had a

powerful effect upon him, and, feeling the powerlessness of man, he

must have turned to God for comfort. But this inquiry is too profound

for the present writer. He shrinks from the attempt to sound the

depths of this truly great soul, with the view of discovering the

influences which moulded it into an almost ideal perfection. General

Lee was, fortunately for the world, surrounded in his latter days

by good and intelligent men, fully competent to present a complete

exposition of his views and feelings--and to these the arduous

undertaking is left. Our easier task is to place upon record such

incidents as we have gathered, bearing upon the religious phase of the

illustrious soldier's character.

His earnest piety cannot be better displayed than in the anxiety which

he felt for the conversion of his students, Conversing with the Rev.

Dr. Kirkpatrick, of the Presbyterian Church, on the subject of the

religious welfare of those intrusted to his charge, "he was so

overcome by emotion," says Dr. Kirkpatrick, "that he could not utter

the words which were on his tongue." His utterance was choked, but

recovering himself, with his eyes overflowing with tears, his lips

quivering with emotion, and both hands raised, he exclaimed: "Oh!

doctor, if I could only know that all the young men in the college

were good Christians, I should have nothing more to desire."

When another minister, the Rev. Mr. Jones, delivered an earnest

address at the "Concert of Prayer for Colleges," urging that all

Christians should pray for the aid of the Holy Spirit in changing the

hearts of the students, General Lee, after the meeting, approached the

minister and said with great warmth: "I wish, sir, to thank you for

your address. It was just what we needed. Our great want is a revival,

which shall bring these young men to Christ."

One morning, while the venerable Dr. White was passing General Lee's

house, on his way to chapel, the general joined him, and they entered

into conversation upon religious subjects. General Lee said little,

but, just as they reached the college, stopped and remarked with great

earnestness, his eyes filling with tears as he spoke: "I shall be

disappointed, sir, I shall fail in the leading object that brought me

here, unless the young men all become real Christians; and I wish you

and others of your sacred profession to de all you can to accomplish

this result."

When a great revival of religious feeling took place at the Virginia

Military Institute, in 1868, General Lee said to the clergyman of his

church with deep feeling: "That is the best news I have heard since I

have been in Lexington. Would that we could have such a revival in all

our colleges!"

Although a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and preferring

that communion, General Lee seems to have been completely exempt from

sectarian feeling, and to have aimed first and last to be a true

Christian, loving God and his neighbor, and not busying himself about

theological dogmas. When he was asked once whether he believed in the

Apostolic succession, he replied that he had never thought of it, and

aimed only to become a "real Christian." His catholic views were shown

by the letters of invitation, which he addressed, at the commencement

of each session of the college, to ministers of all religious

denominations at Lexington, to conduct, in turn, the religious

exercises at the college chapel; and his charities, which were large

for a person of his limited means, were given to all alike. These

charities he seems to have regarded as a binding duty, and were so

private that only those receiving them knew any thing of them. It only

came to be known accidentally that in 1870 he gave one hundred dollars

for the education of the orphans of Southern soldiers, one hundred

dollars to the Young Men's Christian Association, and regularly made

other donations, amounting in all to considerable sums. Nearly his

last act was a liberal contribution to an important object connected

with his church.

We shall conclude these anecdotes, illustrating General Lee's

religious character, with one for which we are indebted to the

kindness of a reverend clergyman, of Lexington, who knew General

Lee intimately in his latter years, and enjoyed his confidence. The

incident will present in an agreeable light the great soldier's

simplicity and love for children, and no less his catholic feelings in

reference to sects in the Christian Church:

"I will give you just another incident," writes the reverend

gentleman, "illustrating General Lee's love for children, and their

freedom with him. When I first came to Lexington, my boy Carter (just

four years old then) used to go with me to chapel service when it was

my turn to officiate. The general would tell him that he must always

sit by him; and it was a scene for a painter, to see the great

chieftain reverentially listening to the truths of God's word, and

the little boy nestling close to him. One Sunday our Sunday-school

superintendent told the children that they must bring in some new

scholars, and that they must bring old people as well as the young,

since none were too old or too wise to learn God's word. The next

Sabbath Carter was with me at the chapel, from which he was to go with

me to the Sunday-school. At the close of the service, I noticed that

Carter was talking very earnestly with General Lee, who seemed very

much amused, and, on calling him to come with me, he said, with

childish simplicity: 'Father, I am trying to get General Lee to go to

the Sunday-school and _be my scholar_.' 'But,' said I, 'if the general

goes to any school, he will go to his own.' 'Which is his own,

father?' 'The Episcopal,' I replied. Heaving a deep sigh, and with a

look of disappointment, the little fellow said: 'I am very sorry he

is '_Piscopal._ I wish he was a Baptist, so he could go to _our_

Sunday-school, and be my scholar.' The general seemed very much amused

and interested as he replied, 'Ah! Carter, we must all try and be

_good Christians_--that is the most important thing.' 'He knew all the

children in town,' adds Mr. Jones, 'and their grief at his death was

very touching.'"

This incident may appear singular to those who have been accustomed to

regard General Lee as a cold, reserved, and even stern human being--a

statue, beneath whose chill surface no heart ever throbbed. But,

instead of a marble heart, there lay, under the gray uniform of the

soldier, one of warm flesh and blood--tender, impressible, susceptible

to the quick touches of all gentle and sweet emotion, and filling, as

it were, with quiet happiness, at the sight of children and the sound

of their voices. This impressibility has even been made the subject

of criticism. A foreign writer declares that the soldier's character

exhibited a "feminine" softness, unfitting him for the conduct of

affairs of moment. What the Confederacy wanted, intimates the writer

in question, was a rough dictator, with little regard for nice

questions of law--one to lay the rough hand of the born master on the

helm, and force the crew, from the highest to the lowest, to obey his

will. That will probably remain a question. General Lee's _will_

was strong enough to break down all obstacles but those erected by

rightful authority; that with this masculine strength he united an

exquisite gentleness, is equally beyond question. A noble action

flushed his cheek with an emotion that the reader may, if he will,

call "feminine." A tale of suffering brought a sudden moisture to his

eyes; and a loving message from one of his poor old soldiers was seen

one day to melt him to tears.

This poor and incomplete attempt to indicate some of the less-known

traits of the illustrious commander-in-chief of the Southern armies

will now be brought to a conclusion; we approach the sorrowful moment

when, surrounded by his weeping family,[1] he tranquilly passed away.

[Footnote 1: General Lee had three sons and four daughters, all of

whom are living except one of the latter, Miss Anne Lee, who died in

North Carolina during the war. The sons were General G.W. Custis Lee,

aide-de-camp to President Davis--subsequently commander of infantry in

the field, and now president of Washington and Lee College, an officer

of such ability and of character so eminent that President Davis

regarded him as a fit successor of his illustrious father in command

of the Army of Northern Virginia--General W.H.F. Lee, a prominent and

able commander of cavalry, and Captain Robert E. Lee, an efficient

member of the cavalry-staff. These gentlemen bore their full share

in the perils and hardships of the war, from its commencement to the

surrender at Appomattox.]

On the 28th of September, 1870, after laborious attention to his

duties during the early part of the day, General Lee attended, in the

afternoon, a meeting of the Vestry of Grace Church, of which he was a

member. Over this meeting he presided, and it was afterward remembered

that his last public act was to contribute the sum of fifty-five

dollars to some good object, the requisite amount to effect which was

thus made up. After the meeting, General Lee returned to his home,

and, when tea was served, took his place at the table to say grace,

as was his habit, as it had been in camp throughout the war. His lips

opened, but no sound issued from them, and he sank back in his chair,

from which he was carried to bed.

The painful intelligence immediately became known throughout

Lexington, and the utmost grief and consternation were visible upon

every face. It was hoped, at first, that the attack would not prove

serious, and that General Lee would soon be able to resume his duties.

But this hope was soon dissipated. The skilful physicians who hastened

to his bedside pronounced his malady congestion of the brain, and,

from the appearance of the patient, who lay in a species of coma,

the attack was evidently of the most alarming character. The most

discouraging phase of the case was, that, physically, General Lee

was--if we may so say--in perfect health. His superb physique,

although not perhaps as vigorous and robust as during the war,

exhibited no indication whatever of disease. His health appeared

perfect, and twenty years more of life might have been predicted for

him from simple reference to his appearance.

The malady was more deeply seated, however, than any bodily disease;

the cerebral congestion was but a symptom of the mental malady which

was killing its victim. From the testimony of the able physicians who

watched the great soldier, day and night, throughout his illness, and

are thus best competent to speak upon the subject, there seems no

doubt that General Lee's condition was the result of mental depression

produced by the sufferings of the Southern people. Every mail, it is

said, had brought him the most piteous appeals for assistance, from

old soldiers whose families were in want of bread; and the woes of

these poor people had a prostrating effect upon him. A year or two

before, his health had been seriously impaired by this brooding

depression, and he had visited North Carolina, the White Sulphur

Springs, and other places, to divert his mind. In this he failed. The

shadow went with him, and the result was, at last, the alarming attack

from which he never rallied. During the two weeks of his illness he

scarcely spoke, and evidently regarded his condition as hopeless. When

one of his physicians said to him, "General, you must make haste and

get well; _Traveller_ has been standing so long in his stable that he

needs exercise." General Lee shook his head slowly, to indicate that

he would never again mount his favorite horse.

He remained in this state, with few alterations in his condition,

until Wednesday; October 12th, when, about nine in the morning, in the

midst of his family, the great soldier tranquilly expired.

Of the universal grief of the Southern people when the intelligence

was transmitted by telegraph to all parts of the country, it is not

necessary that we should speak. The death of Lee seemed to make all

hearts stand still; and the tolling of bells, flags at half-mast,

and public meetings of citizens, wearing mourning, marked, in every

portion of the South, the sense of a great public calamity. It is not

an exaggeration to say that, in ten thousand Southern homes, tears

came to the eyes not only of women, but of bearded men, and that the

words, "Lee is dead!" fell like a funeral-knell upon every heart.

When the intelligence reached Richmond, the Legislature passed

resolutions expressive of the general sorrow, and requesting that the

remains of General Lee might be interred in Holywood Cemetery--Mr.

Walker, the Governor, expressing in a special message his

participation in the grief of the people of Virginia and the South.

The family of General Lee, however, preferred that his remains should

rest at the scene of his last labors, and beneath the chapel of

Washington College they were accordingly interred. The ceremony was

imposing, and will long be remembered.

On the morning of the 13th, the body was borne to the college chapel.

In front moved a guard of honor, composed of old Confederate soldiers;

behind these came the clergy; then the hearse; in rear of which was

led the dead soldier's favorite war-horse "Traveller," his equipments

wreathed with crape. The trustees and faculty of the college, the

cadets of the Military Institute, and a large number of citizens

followed--and the procession moved slowly from the northeastern gate

of the president's house to the college chapel, above which, draped in

mourning, and at half-mast, floated the flag of Virginia--the only one

displayed during this or any other portion of the funeral ceremonies.

On the platform of the chapel the body lay in state throughout this

and the succeeding day. The coffin was covered with evergreens and

flowers, and the face of the dead was uncovered that all might look

for the last time on the pale features of the illustrious soldier. The

body was dressed in a simple suit of black, and the appearance of the

face was perfectly natural. Great crowds visited the chapel, passing

solemnly in front of the coffin--the silence interrupted only by sobs.

Throughout the 14th the body continued to be in state, and to be

visited by thousands. On the 15th a great funeral procession preceded

the commission of it to its last resting place. At an early hour the

crowd began to assemble in the vicinity of the college, which was

draped in mourning. This great concourse was composed of men, women,

and children, all wearing crape, and the little children seemed as

much penetrated by the general distress as the elders. The bells of

the churches began to toll; and at ten o'clock the students of the

college, and officers and soldiers of the Confederate army--numbering

together nearly one thousand persons--formed in front of the chapel.

Between the two bodies stood the hearse, and the gray horse of the

soldier, both draped in mourning.

The procession then began to move, to the strains of martial music.

The military escort, together with the staff-officers of General Lee,

moved in front; the faculty and students followed behind the hearse;

and in rear came a committee of the Legislative dignitaries of the

Commonwealth, and a great multitude of citizens from all portions of

the State. The procession continued its way toward the Institute,

where the cadets made the military salute as the hearse passed in

front of them, and the sudden thunder of artillery awoke the echoes

from the hills. The cadets then joined the procession, which was more

than a mile in length; and, heralded by the fire of artillery every

few minutes, it moved back to the college chapel, where the last

services were performed.

General Lee had requested, it is said, that no funeral oration should

be pronounced above his remains, and the Rev. William N. Pendleton

simply read the beautiful burial-service of the Episcopal Church. The

coffin, still covered with evergreens and flowers, was then lowered to

its resting-place beneath the chapel, amid the sobs and tears of the

great assembly; and all that was mortal of the illustrious soldier

disappeared from the world's eyes.

What thus disappeared was little. What remained was much--the memory

of the virtues and the glory of the greatest of Virginians.

APPENDIX.

We here present to the reader a more detailed account of the

ceremonies attending the burial of General Lee, and a selection from

the countless addresses delivered in various portions of the country

when his death was announced. To notice the honors paid to his memory

in every city, town, and village of the South, would fill a volume,

and be wholly unnecessary. It is equally unnecessary to speak of the

great meetings at Richmond, Baltimore, and elsewhere, resulting in

the formation of the "Lee Memorial Association" for the erection of a

monument to the dead commander.

The addresses here presented are placed on record rather for their

biographical interest, than to do honor to the dead. Of him it may

justly be said that he needs no record of his virtues and his glory.

His illustrious memory is fresh to-day, and will be fresh throughout

all coming generations, in every heart.

I.

_THE FUNERAL OF GENERAL LEE_.

The morning of the obsequies of General Lee broke bright and cheerful

over the sorrowful town of Lexington. Toward noon the sun poured down

with all the genial warmth of Indian summer, and after mid-day it was

hot, though not uncomfortably so. The same solemnity of yesterday

reigned supreme, with the difference, that people came thronging

into town, making a mournful scene of bustle. The gloomy faces,

the comparative silence, the badges and emblems of mourning that

everywhere met the eye, and the noiseless, strict decorum which was

observed, told how universal and deep were the love and veneration

of the people for the illustrious dead. Every one uniformly and

religiously wore the emblematic crape, even to the women and children,

who were crowding to the college chapel with wreaths of flowers

fringed with mourning. All sorrowfully and religiously paid their last

tributes of respect and affection to the great dead, and none there

were who did not feel a just pride in the sad offices.

AT THE COLLEGE GROUNDS.

Immediately in front of the chapel the scene was peculiarly sad.

All around the buildings were gloomily draped in mourning, and the

students strolled listlessly over the grounds, awaiting the formation

of the funeral procession. Ladies thronged about the chapel with

tearful eyes, children wept outright, every face wore a saddened

expression, while the solemn tolling of the church-bells rendered the

scene still more one of grandeur and gloom. The bells of the churches

joined in the mournful requiem.

THE FUNERAL PROCESSION.

At ten o'clock precisely, in accordance with the programme agreed

upon, the students, numbering four hundred, formed in front and to the

right of the chapel. To the left an escort of honor, numbering some

three hundred ex-officers and soldiers, was formed, at the head

of which, near the southwestern entrance to the grounds, was

the Institute band. Between these two bodies--the soldiers and

students--stood the hearse and the gray war-steed of the dead hero,

both draped in mourning. The marshals of the procession, twenty-one in

number, wore spotless white sashes, tied at the waist and shoulders

with crape, and carrying _bâtons_ also enveloped in the same

emblematic material.

Shortly after ten, at a signal from the chief marshal, the solemn

_cortége_ moved off to the music of a mournful dirge. General Bradley

Johnson headed the escort of officers and soldiers, with Colonel

Charles T. Venable and Colonel Walters H. Taylor, both former

assistant adjutant-generals on the staff of the lamented dead. The

physicians of General Lee and the Faculty of the college fell in

immediately behind the hearse, the students following. Slowly and

solemnly the procession moved from the college grounds down Washington

Street to Jefferson, up Jefferson Street to Franklin Hall, thence to

Main Street, where they were joined by a committee of the Legislature,

dignitaries of the State, and the citizens generally. Moving still

onward, this grand funeral pageant, which had now assumed gigantic

proportions, extending nearly a mile in length, soon reached the

northeastern extremity of the town, when it took the road to the

Virginia Military Institute.

AT THE MILITARY INSTITUTE.

Here the scene was highly impressive and imposing. In front of the

Institute the battalion of cadets, three hundred in number, were drawn

up in line, wearing their full gray uniform, with badges of mourning,

and having on all their equipments and side-arms, but without their

muskets. Spectators thronged the entire line of the procession, gazing

sadly as it wended its way, and the sites around the Institute were

crowded. As the _cortége_ entered the Institute grounds a salute of

artillery thundered its arrival, and reverberated it far across the

distant hills and valleys of Virginia, awakening echoes which have

been hushed since Lee manfully gave up the struggle of the "lost

cause" at Appomattox. Winding along the indicated route toward the

grounds of Washington College, the procession slowly moved past the

Institute, and when the war-horse and hearse of the dead chieftain

came in front of the battalion of cadets, they uncovered their heads

as a salute of reverence and respect, which was promptly followed by

the spectators. When this was concluded, the visitors and Faculty of

the Institute joined the procession, and the battalion of cadets filed

into the line in order, and with the greatest precision.

ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.

The following was the order of the procession when it was completed:

Music.

Escort of Honor, consisting of Officers and Soldiers of the Confederate

Army.

Chaplain and other Clergy.

Hearse and Pall-bearers.

General Lee's Horse.

The Attending Physicians.

Trustees and Faculty of Washington College.

Dignitaries of the State of Virginia.

Visitors and Faculty of the Virginia Military Institute.

Other Representative Bodies and Distinguished Visitors.

Alumni of Washington College.

Citizens.

Cadets Virginia Military Institute.

Students of Washington College as Guard of Honor

AT THE CHAPEL.

After the first salute, a gun was fired every three minutes. Moving

still to the sound of martial music, in honor of the dead, the

procession reëntered the grounds of Washington College by the

northeastern gate, and was halted in front of the chapel. Then

followed an imposing ceremony. The cadets of the Institute were

detached from the line, and marched in double file into the chapel up

one of the aisles, past the remains of the illustrious dead, which lay

in state on the rostrum, and down the other aisle out of the church.

The students of Washington College followed next, passing with bowed

heads before the mortal remains of him they revered and loved so much

and well as their president and friend. The side-aisles and galleries

were crowded with ladies, Emblems of mourning met the eye on all

sides, and feminine affection had hung funeral garlands of flowers

upon all the pillars and walls. The central pews were filled with the

escort of honor, composed of former Confederate soldiers from this and

adjoining counties, while the spacious platform was crowded with the

trustees, faculties, clergy, Legislative Committee, and distinguished

visitors. Within and without the consecrated hall the scene was

alike imposing. The blue mountains of Virginia, towering in the near

horizon; the lovely village of Lexington, sleeping in the calm,

unruffled air, and the softened autumn sunlight; the vast assemblage,

mute and sorrowful; the tolling bells, and pealing cannon, and solemn

words of funeral service, combined to render the scene one never to be

forgotten.

The sons of General Lee--W.H.F. Lee, G.W.C. Lee, and Robert E.

Lee--with their sisters, Misses Agnes and Mildred Lee, and the nephews

of the dead, Fitzhugh, Henry C., and Robert C. Lee, entered the church

with bowed heads, and silently took seats in front of the rostrum.

THE FUNERAL SERVICES AND INTERMENT.

Then followed the impressive funeral services of the Episcopal Church

for the dead, amid a silence and solemnity that were imposing and

sublimely grand. There was no funeral oration, in compliance with the

expressed wish of the distinguished dead; and at the conclusion of the

services in the chapel the vast congregation went out and mingled with

the crowd without, who were unable to gain admission. The coffin was

then carried by the pall-bearers to the library-room, in the basement

of the chapel, where it was lowered into the vault prepared for its

reception. The funeral services were concluded in the open air by

prayer, and the singing of General Lee's favorite hymn, commencing

with the well-known line--

"How firm a foundation, ye saint of the Lord,

Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word!"

and thus closed the funeral obsequies of Robert Edward Lee, to whom

may be fitly applied the grand poetic epitaph:

"Ne'er to the mansions where the mighty rest,

Since their foundations, came a nobler guest;

Nor e'er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed

A purer saint or a more welcome shade."

II.

_TRIBUTES TO GENERAL LEE_.

In the deep emotion with which the death of General Lee has filled all

classes of our people--says the _Southern Magazine_, from whose pages

this interesting summary is taken--we have thought that a selection of

the most eloquent or otherwise interesting addresses delivered at the

various memorial meetings may not be unacceptable.

LOUISVILLE, KY.

On October 15th nearly the whole city was draped in mourning, and

business was suspended. A funeral service was held at St. Paul's

Church. In the evening an immense meeting assembled at Weissiger

Hall, and, after an opening address by Mayor Baxter, the following

resolutions were adopted:

"_Resolved_, That, in the death of Robert E. Lee, the American people,

without regard to States or sections, or antecedents, or opinions,

lose a great and good man, a distinguished and useful citizen,

renowned not less in arms than in the arts of peace; and that the

cause of public instruction and popular culture is deprived of a

representative whose influence and example will be felt by the youth

of our country for long ages after the passions in the midst of which

he was engaged, but which he did not share, have passed into history,

and the peace and fraternity of the American Republic are cemented and

restored by the broadest and purest American sentiment."

"_Resolved_, That a copy of these resolutions be forwarded to the

family of General Lee, to the Trustees of Washington College, and to

the Governor and General Assembly of Virginia."

ADDRESS OF GENERAL BRECKINRIDGE.

"_Mr. President, Ladies, and Gentlemen_: In the humble part which it

falls to me to take in these interesting ceremonies, if for any cause

it has been supposed that I am to deliver a lengthy address, I am

not responsible for the origination of that supposition. I came here

to-night simply to mingle my grief with yours at the loss of one of

our most distinguished citizens, and, indeed, I feel more like silence

than like words. I am awe-stricken in the presence of this vast

assemblage, and my mind goes back to the past. It is preoccupied by

memories coming in prominent review of the frequent and ever-varying

vicissitudes which have characterized the last ten years. I find

myself in the presence of a vast assemblage of the people of this

great and growing city, who meet together, without distinction of

party, and presided over by your chief officer, for the purpose of

expressing respect to the memory of the man who was the leader of the

Confederate armies in the late war between the States. It is in itself

the omen of reunion. I am not surprised at the spectacle presented

here. Throughout the entire South one universal cry of grief has

broken forth at the death of General Lee, and in a very large portion

of the North manly and noble tributes have been paid to his memory.

"My words shall be brief but plain. Why is it that at the South we see

this universal, spontaneous demonstration? First, because most of the

people mourn the loss of a leader and a friend, but beyond that I must

say they seem to enter an unconscious protest against the ascription

either to him or them of treason or personal dishonor. It may be an

unconscious protest against the employment by a portion of the public

press of those epithets which have ceased to be used in social

intercourse. It is an invitation on their part to the people of the

North and South, East and West, if there be any remaining rancor in

their bosoms, to bury it in the grave forever. I will not recall the

past. I will not enter upon any considerations of the cause of that

great struggle. This demonstration we see around us gives the plainest

evidence that there is no disposition to indulge in useless repinings

at the results of that great struggle. It is for the pen of the

historian to declare the cause, progress, and probable consequences of

it. In regard to those who followed General Lee, who gloried in his

successes and shared his misfortunes, I have but this to say: the

world watched the contest in which they were engaged, and yet gives

testimony to their gallantry,

"The magnanimity with which they accepted the results of their defeat,

the obedience they have yielded to the laws of the Federal Government,

give an exhibition so rare that they are ennobled by their calm yet

noble submission. For the rest their escutcheon is unstained. The

conquerors themselves, for their own glory, must confess that they

were brave. Neither, my friends, do I come here to-night to speak

of the military career of General Lee. I need not speak of it this

evening. I believe that this is universally recognized, not only in

the United States, but in Europe; it has made the circuit of the

world. I come but to utter my tribute to him as a man and as a

citizen. As a man he will be remembered in history as a man of the

epoch. How little need I to speak of his character after listening to

the thrilling delineation of it which we had this morning! We all know

that he was great, noble, and self-poised. He was just and moderate,

but was, perhaps, misunderstood by those who were not personally

acquainted with him. He was supposed to be just, but cold. Far from

it. He had a warm, affectionate heart. During the last year of that

unfortunate struggle it was my good fortune to spend a great deal of

time with him. I was almost constantly by his side, and it was during

the two months immediately preceding the fall of Richmond that I came

to know and fully understand the true nobility of his character. In

all those long vigils he was considerate and kind, gentle, firm, and

self-poised. I can give no better idea of the impression it made upon

me than to say it inspired me with an ardent love of the man and a

profound veneration of his character. It was so massive and noble, so

grand in its proportions, that all men must admire its heroism and

gallantry, yet so gentle and tender that a woman might adopt and claim

it as her own. If the spirit which animates the assembly before me

to-night shall become general and permeate the whole country, then may

we say the wounds of the late war are truly healed. We ask for him

only what we give to others. Among the more eminent of the departed

Federal generals who were distinguished for their gallantry, their

nobility of character, and their patriotism, may be mentioned Thomas

and McPherson. What Confederate is there who would refuse to raise his

cap as their funeral-train went by or hesitate to drop a flower upon

their graves? Why? Because they were men of courage, honor, and

nobility; because they were true to their convictions of right, and

soldiers whose hands were unstained by cruelty or pillage.

"Those of us who were so fortunate as to know him, and who have

appeared before this assemblage, composed of all shades of opinion,

claim for him your veneration, because he was pure and noble, and it

is because of this that we see the cities and towns of the South in

mourning. This has been the expression throughout the whole South,

without distinction of party, and also of a large portion of the

North. Is not this why these tributes have been paid to his memory? Is

it not because his piety was humble and sincere? Because he accorded

in victory; because he filled his position with admirable dignity;

because he taught his prostrate comrades how to suffer and be strong?

In a word, because he was one of the noblest products of this

hemisphere, a fit object to sit in the niche which he created in the

Temple of Fame.

"But he failed. The result is in the future. It may be for better or

for worse. We hope for the better. But this is not the test for his

greatness and goodness. Success often gilds the shallow man, but it is

disaster alone that reveals the qualities of true greatness. Was his

life a failure? Is only that man successful who erects a material

monument of greatness by the enforcement of his ideas? Is not that man

successful also, who, by his valor, moderation, and courage, with all

their associate virtues, presents to the world such a specimen of

true manhood as his children and children's children will be proud to

imitate? In this sense he was not a failure.

"Pardon me for having detained you so long. I know there are here and

there those who will reach out and attempt to pluck from his name the

glory which surrounds it, and strike with malignant fury at the honors

awarded to him; yet history will declare that the remains which repose

in the vault beneath the little chapel in the lovely Virginia Valley

are not only those of a valorous soldier, but those of a great and

good American."

General John W. Finnell next addressed the audience briefly, and was

followed by.

GENERAL WILLIAM PRESTON.

"_Mr. Chairman, Ladies, and Gentlemen_: I feel that it would be very

difficult for me to add any eulogy to those which are contained in the

resolutions of the committee, or a more merited tribute of praise than

those which have already fallen from the lips of the gentlemen who

have preceded me. Yet, on an occasion like this, I am willing to come

forward and add a word to testify my appreciation of the great virtues

and admirable character of one that commands, not only our admiration,

but that of the entire country. Not alone of the entire country,

but his character has excited more admiration in Europe than among

ourselves. In coming ages his name will be marked with lustre, and

will be one of the richest treasures of the future. I speak of one

just gone down to death; ripe in all the noble attributes of manhood,

and illustrious by deeds the most remarkable in character that have

occurred in the history of America since its discovery. It is now some

two-and-twenty years since I first made the acquaintance of General

Lee. He was then in the prime of manhood, in Mexico, and I first saw

him as the chief-engineer of General Scott in the Valley of Mexico. I

see around me two old comrades who then saw General Lee. He was a

man of remarkable personal beauty and great grace of body. He had a

finished form, delicate hands, graceful in person, while here and

there a gray hair streaked with silver the dark locks with which

Nature had clothed his noble brow. There were discerning minds that

appreciated his genius, and saw in him the coming Captain of America.

His commander and his comrades appreciated his ability. To a club

which was then organized he belonged, together with General McClellan,

General Albert Sydney Johnston, General Beauregard, and a host of

others. They recognized in Lee a master-spirit..

"He was never violent; he never wrangled. He was averse to

quarrelling, and not a single difficulty marked his career; but

all acknowledged his justness and wonderful evenness of mind. Rare

intelligence, combined with these qualities, served to make him a fit

representative of his great prototype, General Washington. He had been

accomplished by every finish that a military education could bestow.

"I remember when General Lee was appointed lieutenant-colonel, at the

same time that Sydney Johnston was appointed colonel, and General

Scott thought that Lee should have been colonel. I was talking with

General Scott on the subject long before the late struggle between the

North and South took place, and he then said that Lee was the greatest

living soldier in America. He did not object to the other commission,

but he thought Lee should have been first promoted. Finally, he said

to me with emphasis, which you will pardon me for relating, 'I tell

you that, if I were on my death-bed to-morrow, and the President of

the United States should tell me that a great battle was to be fought

for the liberty or slavery of the country, and asked my judgment as to

the ability of a commander, I would say with my dying breath, let it

be Robert E. Lee.' Ah! great soldier that he was, princely general

that he was, he has fulfilled his mission, and borne it so that

no invidious tongue can level the shafts of calumny at the great

character which he has left behind him.

"But, ladies and gentlemen, it was not in this that the matchless

attributes of his character were found. You have assembled here, not

so much to do honor to General Lee, but to testify your appreciation

of the worth of the principles governing his character; and if the

minds of this assemblage were explored, you would find there was a

gentleness and a grace in his character which had won your love and

brought forth testimonials of universal admiration. Take but a single

instance. At the battle of Gettysburg, after the attack on the

cemetery, when his troops were repulsed and beaten, the men threw

up their muskets and said, 'General, we have failed, and it is our

fault.' 'No, my men,' said he, knowing the style of fighting of

General Stonewall Jackson, 'you have done well; 'tis my fault; I am to

blame, and no one but me.' What man is there that would not have gone

to renewed death for such a leader? So, when we examine his whole

character, it is in his private life that you find his true

greatness--the Christian simplicity of his character and his great

veneration for truth and nobility, the grand elements of his

greatness. What man could have laid down his sword at the feet of a

victorious general with greater dignity than did he at Appomattox

Court-House? He laid down his sword with grace and dignity, and

secured for his soldiers the best terms that fortune would permit. In

that he shows marked greatness seldom shown by great captains.

"After the battle of Sedan, the wild cries of the citizens of Paris

went out for the blood of the emperor; but at Appomattox, veneration

and love only met the eyes of the troops who looked upon their

commander. I will not trespass upon your time much farther. When I

last saw him the raven hair had turned white. In a small village

church his reverent head was bowed in prayer. The humblest step was

that of Robert E. Lee, as he entered the portals of the temple erected

to God. In broken responses he answered to the services of the Church.

Noble, sincere, and humble in his religion, he showed forth his true

character in laying aside his sword to educate the youth of his

country. Never did he appear more noble than at that time. He is now

gone, and rests in peace, and has crossed that mysterious stream that

Stonewall Jackson saw with inspired eyes when he asked that he might

be permitted to take his troops across the river and forever rest

beneath the shadows of the trees."

After a few remarks from Hon. D.Y. Lyttle, the meeting adjourned.

AUGUSTA, GA.

A meeting was held at Augusta, on October 18th, at the City Hall. The

preamble and resolutions adopted were as follows:

"_Whereas_, This day, throughout all this Southern land, sorrow,

many-tongued, is ascending to heaven for the death of Robert E. Lee,

and communities everywhere are honoring themselves in striving to do

honor to that great name; and we, the people of Augusta, who were not

laggards in upholding his glorious banner while it floated to the

breeze, would swell the general lamentation of his departure:

therefore be it

"_Resolved_, That no people in the tide of time has been bereaved

as we are bereaved; for no other people has had such a man to lose.

Greece, rich in heroes; Rome, prolific mother of great citizens, so

that the name of Roman is the synonyme of all that is noblest in

citizenship--had no man coming up to the full measure of this

great departed. On scores of battle-fields, consummate commander;

everywhere, bravest soldier; in failure, sublimest hero; in disbanding

his army, most pathetic of writers; in persecution, most patient of

power's victims; in private life, purest of men--he was such that all

Christendom, with one consent, named him GREAT. We, recalling that so

also mankind have styled Alexander, Caesar, Frederick, and Napoleon,

and beholding in the Confederate leader qualities higher and better

than theirs, find that language poor indeed which only enables us to

call him 'great'--him standing among the great of all ages preëminent.

"_Resolved_, That our admiration of the man is not the partial

judgment of his adherents only; but so clear stand his greatness and

his goodness, that even the bitterest of foes has not ventured

to asperse him. While the air has been filled with calumnies and

revilings of his cause, none have been aimed at him. If there are

spirits so base that they cannot discover and reverence his greatness

and his goodness, they have at least shrunk from encountering the

certain indignation of mankind. This day--disfranchised by stupid

power as he was; branded, as he was, in the perverted vocabulary of

usurpers as rebel and traitor--his death has even in distant lands

moved more tongues and stirred more hearts than the siege of a mighty

city and the triumphs of a great king.

"_Resolved_, That, while he died far too soon for his country, he had

lived long enough for his fame. This was complete, and the future

could unfold nothing to add to it. In this age of startling changes,

imagination might have pictured him, even in the years which he yet

lacked of the allotted period of human life, once more at the head of

devoted armies and the conqueror of glorious fields; but none could

have been more glorious than those he had already won. Wrong, too,

might again have triumphed over Right, and he have borne defeat with

sublimest resignation; but this he had already done at Appomattox.

Unrelenting hate to his lost cause might have again consigned him to

the walks of private life, and he have become an exemplar of all the

virtues of a private station; but this he had already been in the

shades of Lexington. The contingencies of the future could only have

revealed him greatest soldier, sublimest hero, best of men; and he was

already all of these. The years to come were barren of any thing which

could add to his perfect name and fame. He had nothing to lose; but,

alas! we, his people, every thing by his departure from this world,

which was unworthy of him, to that other where the good and the pure

of all ages will welcome him. Thither follow him the undying love

of every true Southern man and woman, and the admiration of all the

world."

ADDRESS OF GENERAL A.R. WRIGHT.

"_Mr. Chairman_: I rise simply to move the adoption of the resolutions

which have just been read to the meeting by Major Cumming. You have

heard, and the people here assembled have heard, these resolutions.

They are truthful, eloquent, and expressive. Although announced as

a speaker on this sad occasion, I had determined to forego any such

attempt; but an allusion, a passing reference to one of the sublime

virtues of the illustrious dead, made in the resolutions which have

just been read in your hearing, has induced me to add a word or

two. Your resolutions speak of General Lee's patience under the

persecutions of power. It was this virtue which ennobled the

character, as it was one of the most prominent traits in the life, of

him for whose death a whole nation, grief-stricken, mourns, and to pay

a tribute to the memory of whom this multitude has assembled here this

morning. While General Lee was all, and more than has been said

of him--the great general, the true Christian, and the valiant

soldier--there was another character in which he appeared more

conspicuously than in any of the rest--the quiet dignity with which he

encountered defeat, and the patience with which he met the persecution

of malignant power. We may search the pages of all history, both

sacred and profane, and there seems to be but one character who

possessed in so large a degree this remarkable trait. Take General

Lee's whole life and examine it; observe his skill and courage as a

soldier, his patriotism and his fidelity to principle, the purity of

his private life, and then remember the disasters which he faced and

the persecutions to which he was subjected, and it would seem that _no

one_ ever endured so much--not even David, the sweet singer of Israel.

Job has been handed down to posterity by the pages of sacred history

as the embodiment of patience, as the man who, overwhelmed with the

most numerous and bitter afflictions, never lost his fortitude, and

who endured every fresh trial with uncomplaining resignation; but it

seems to me that even Job displayed not the patience of our own loved

hero; for, while Job suffered much, he endured less than General Lee.

Job was compelled to lose his children, his friends, and his property,

but he was never required to give up country; General Lee was, and,

with more than the persecutions of Job, he stands revealed to the

world the truest and the most sublime hero whom the ages have

produced. To a patriot like Lee the loss of country was the greatest

evil which could be experienced, and it was this last blow which has

caused us to assemble here to-day to mourn his departure. He lost

friends and kindred and property in the struggle, and yet, according

to the news which the telegraph brought us this morning, it was the

loss of his cause which finally sundered the heart-strings of the

hero, and drew him from earth to heaven. Yes, the weight of this

great sorrow which first fell upon him under the fatal apple-tree at

Appomattox, has dwelt with him, growing heavier and more unendurable

with each succeeding year, from that time until last Wednesday morn

when the soul of Lee passed away.

"As I said before, Mr. Chairman, I only rose to move the adoption of

the resolutions; and if I have said more than I ought to have said,

it is because I knew the illustrious dead, because I loved him, and

because I mourn his loss."

ADDRESS OF JUDGE HILLIARD.

"It is proper that the people should pay a public tribute to the

memory of a great man when he dies. Not a ruler, not one who merely

holds a great public position, but a great man, one who has served his

day and generation. It cannot benefit the dead, but it is eminently

profitable to the living. The consciousness than when we cease to live

our memory will be cherished, is a noble incentive to live well.

This great popular demonstration is due to General Lee's life and

character. It is not ordered by the Government--the Government ignored

him; but is rendered as a spontaneous tribute to the memory of an

illustrious man--good, true, and great. He held no place in the

Government, and since the war has had no military rank; but he was a

true man. After all, that is the noblest tribute you can pay to any

man, to say of him he was a true man.

"General Lee's character was eminently American. In Europe they

have their ideas, their standards of merit, their rewards for great

exploits. They cover one with decorations; they give him a great place

in the government; they make him a marshal. Wellington began his

career with humble rank. He was young Wellesley; he rose to be the

Duke of Wellington. In our country we have no such rewards for great

deeds. One must enjoy the patronage of the Government, or he must take

the fortunes of private life.

"General Lee was educated at the great Military Academy, West Point.

He entered the army; was promoted from time to time for brilliant

services; in Mexico fought gallantly under the flag of the United

States; and was still advancing in his military career in 1861, when

Virginia became involved in the great contest that then grew up

between the States. Virginia was his mother; she called him to her

side to defend her, and, resigning his commission in the Army of the

United States, not for a moment looking for advancement there, not

counting the cost, not offering his sword to the service of power, nor

yet laying it down at the feet of the Government--he unsheathed it and

took his stand in defence of the great principles asserted by Virginia

in the Revolution, when she contended with Great Britain the right of

every people to choose their own form of government. Lost or won, to

him the cause was always the same--it was the cause of constitutional

liberty. He stood by it to the last. What must have been the

convictions of a man like General Lee, when, mounted on the same horse

that had borne him in battle, upon which he was seated when the lines

of battle formed by his own heroic men wavered, and he seized the

standard to lead the charge; but his soldiers rushed to him, and

laying their hands on his bridle, said, 'General, we cannot fire a

gun unless you retire?' What must have been his emotions as he rode,

through his own lines at Appomattox, to the commander of the opposing

army, and tendered his sword? Search the annals of history, ancient

and modern; consult the lives of heroes; study the examples of

greatness recorded in Greece leading the way on the triumphs of

popular liberty, or in Rome in the best days of her imperial rule;

take statesmen, generals, or men of patient thought who outwatched the

stars in exploring knowledge, and I declare to you that I do not find

anywhere a sublimer sentiment than General Lee uttered when he said,

'Human virtue ought to be equal to human calamity.' It will live

forever.

"General Lee died at the right time. His sun did not go down in the

strife of battle, in the midst of the thunder of cannon, dimmed by the

lurid smoke of war. He survived all this: lived with so much dignity;

silent, yet thoughtful; unseduced by the offers of gain or of

advancement however tempting; disdaining to enter into contests for

small objects, until the broad disk went down behind the Virginia

hills, shedding its departing lustre not only upon this country but

upon the whole world. His memory is as much respected in England as it

is here; and at the North as well as at the South true hearts honor

it.

"There is one thing I wish to say before I take my seat. General Lee's

fame ought to rest on the true base. He did not draw his sword to

perpetuate human slavery, whatever may have been his opinions in

regard to it; he did not seek to overthrow the Government of the

United States. He drew it in defence of constitutional liberty. That

cause is not dead, but will live forever. The result of the war

established the authority of the United States; the Union will

stand--let it stand forever. The flag floats over the whole country

from the Atlantic to the Pacific; let it increase in lustre, and let

the power of the Government grow; still the cause for which General

Lee struck is not a lost cause. It is conceded that these States must

continue united under a common government. We do not wish to sunder

it, nor to disturb it. But the great principle that underlies the

Government of the United States--the principle that the people have

a right to choose their own form of government, and to have their

liberties protected by the provisions of the Constitution--is an

indestructible principle. You cannot destroy it. Like Milton's angels,

it is immortal; you may wound, but you cannot kill it. It is like the

volcanic fires that flame in the depths of the earth; it will yet

upheave the ocean and the land, and flame up to heaven.

"Young Emmett said, 'Let no man write my epitaph until my country is

free, and takes her place among the nations of the earth.' But you may

write General Lee's epitaph now. The principle for which he fought

will survive him. His evening was in perfect harmony with his life. He

had time to think, to recall the past, to prepare for the future. An

offer, originating in Georgia, and I believe in this very city, was

made to him to place an immense sum of money at his disposal if he

would consent to reside in the city of New York and represent Southern

commerce. Millions would have flowed to him. But he declined. He

said: 'No; I am grateful, but I have a self-imposed task which I must

accomplish. I have led the young men of the South in battle; I have

seen many of them fall under my standard. I shall devote my life now

to training young men to do their duty in life.' And he did. It was

beautiful to see him in that glorious valley where Lexington stands,

the lofty mountains throwing their protecting shadows over its quiet

home. General Lee's fame is not bounded by the limits of the South,

nor by the continent. I rejoice that the South gave him birth; I

rejoice that the South will hold his ashes. But his fame belongs to

the human race. Washington, too, was born in the South and sleeps

in the South. But his great fame is not to be appropriated by this

country; it is the inheritance of mankind. We place the name of Lee by

that of Washington. They both belong to the world."

NEW ORLEANS.

A meeting was held in the St. Charles Theatre, as the largest building

in the city. The Hon. W.M. Burwell delivered an eloquent address,

of which we regret that we have been able to obtain no report. The

meeting was then addressed by the

HON. THOMAS J. SEMMES.

"Robert E. Lee is dead. The Potomac, overlooked by the home of the

hero, once dividing contending peoples, but now no longer a boundary,

conveys to the ocean a nation's tears. South of the Potomac is

mourning; profound grief pervades every heart, lamentation is heard

from every hearth, for Lee sleeps among the slain whose memory is so

dear to us. In the language of Moina:

'They were slain for us,

And their blood flowed out in a rain for us,

Red, rich, and pure, on the plain for us;

And years may go,

But our tears shall flow

O'er the dead who have died in vain for us.'

"North of the Potomac not only sympathizes with its widowed sister,

but, with respectful homage, the brave and generous, clustering around

the corpse of the great Virginian, with one accord exclaim:

'This earth that bears thee dead,

Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.'

"Sympathetic nations, to whom our lamentations have been transmitted

on the wings of lightning, will with pious jealousy envy our grief,

because Robert E. Lee was an American. Seven cities claimed the honor

of having given birth to the great pagan poet; but all Christian

nations, while revering America as the mother of Robert E. Lee, will

claim for the nineteenth century the honor of his birth. There was but

one Lee, the great Christian captain, and his fame justly belongs to

Christendom. The nineteenth century has attacked every thing--it has

attacked God, the soul, reason, morals, society, the distinction

between good and evil. Christianity is vindicated by the virtues of

Lee. He is the most brilliant and cogent argument in favor of a system

illustrated by such a man; he is the type of the reign of law in the

moral order--that reign of law which the philosophic Duke of Argyll

has so recently and so ably discussed as pervading the natural as well

as the supernatural world. One of the chief characteristics of the

Christian is duty. Throughout a checkered life the conscientious

performance of duty seems to have been the mainspring of the actions

of General Lee. In his relations of father, son, husband, soldier,

citizen, duty shines conspicuous in all his acts. His agency as he

advanced to more elevated stations attracts more attention, and

surrounds him with a brighter halo of glory; but he is unchanged; from

first to last it is Robert E. Lee.

"The most momentous act of his life was the selection of sides at the

commencement of the political troubles which immediately preceded the

recent conflict. High in military rank, caressed by General Scott,

courted by those possessed of influence and authority, no politician,

happy in his domestic relations, and in the enjoyment of competent

fortune, consisting in the main of property situated on the borders

of Virginia--nevertheless impelled by a sense of duty, as he himself

testified before a Congressional committee since the war, General Lee

determined to risk all and unite his fortunes with those of his native

State, whose ordinances as one of her citizens he considered himself

bound to obey.

"Having joined the Confederate army, he complained not that he was

assigned to the obscure duty of constructing coast-defences for South

Carolina and Georgia, nor that he was subsequently relegated to

unambitious commands in Western Virginia. The accidental circumstance

that General Joseph E. Johnston was wounded at the battle of Seven

Pines in May, 1862, placed Lee in command of the Army of Northern

Virginia. As commander of that army he achieved world-wide reputation,

without giving occasion during a period of three years to any

complaint on the part of officers, men, or citizens, or enemies, that

he had been guilty of any act, illegal, oppressive, unjust, or inhuman

in its character. This is the highest tribute possible to the wisdom

and virtue of General Lee; for, as a general rule, law was degraded;

officers, whether justly or unjustly, were constantly the subject

of complaint and discord, and jealousy prevailed in camp and in the

Senate-chamber. There was a fraction of our people represented by an

unavailing minority in Congress, who either felt, or professed to

feel, a jealousy whose theory was just, but whose application, at such

a time, was unsound. They wished to give as little power as possible

because they dreaded a military despotism, and thus desired to send

our armies forth with half a shield and broken swords to protect the

government from its enemies, lest, if the bucklers were entire and the

swords perfect, they might be tempted, in the heyday of victory, to

smite their employers. But this want of confidence never manifested

itself toward General Lee, whose conduct satisfied the most suspicious

that his ambition was not of glory but of the performance of duty. The

army always felt this: the fact that he sacrificed no masses of human

beings in desperate charges that he might gather laurels from the

spot enriched by their gore. A year or more before he was appointed

commander-in-chief of all the Confederate forces, a bill passed

Congress creating that office. It failed to become a law, the

President having withheld his approval. Lee made no complaints; his

friends solicited no votes to counteract the veto. When a bill for the

same purpose was passed at a subsequent period, it was whispered about

that he could not accept the position. To a committee of Virginians

who had called on him to ascertain the truth, his reply was, that he

felt bound to accept any post the duties of which his country believed

him competent to perform. After the battle of Gettysburg he tendered

his resignation to President Davis, because he was apprehensive his

failure, the responsibility for which he did not pretend to throw on

his troops or officers, would produce distrust of his abilities and

destroy his usefulness. I am informed the President, in a beautiful

and touching letter, declined to listen to such a proposition. During

the whole period of the war he steadily declined all presents, and

when, on one occasion, a gentleman sent him several dozen of wine, he

turned it over to the hospitals in Richmond, saying the wounded

and sick needed it more than he. He was extremely simple and

unostentatious in his habits, and shared with his soldiers their

privations as well as their dangers. Toward the close of the war, meat

was very scarce within the Confederate lines in the neighborhood of

the contending armies. An aide of the President, having occasion to

visit General Lee en official business in the field, was invited to

dinner. The meal spread on the table consisted of corn-bread and a

small piece of bacon buried in a large dish of greens. The quick-eyed

aide discovered that none of the company, which was composed of the

general's personal staff, partook of the meat, though requested to

do so in the most urbane manner by the general, who presided; he,

therefore, also declined, and noticed that the meat was carried off

untouched. After the meal was over, he inquired of one of the officers

present what was the reason for this extraordinary conduct. His reply

was, 'We had borrowed the meat for the occasion, and promised to

return it.'

"Duty alone induced this great soldier to submit to such privation,

for the slightest intimation given to friends in Richmond would have

filled his tent with all the luxuries that blockade-runners and

speculators had introduced for the favored few able to purchase.

"This performance of duty was accompanied by no harsh manner or

cynical expressions; for the man whose soul is ennobled by true

heroism, possesses a heart as tender as it is firm. His calmness under

the most trying circumstances, and his uniform sweetness of manner,

were almost poetical. They manifested 'the most sustained tenderness

of soul that ever caressed the chords of a lyre.' In council he

was temperate and patient, and his words fell softly and evenly as

snow-flakes, like the sentences that fell from the lips of Ulysses.

"On the termination of the war, his conduct until his death has

challenged the admiration of friends and foes; he honestly acquiesced

in the inevitable result of the struggle; no discontent, sourness, or

complaint, has marred his tranquil life at Washington College, where

death found him at his post of duty, engaged in fitting the young

men of his country, by proper discipline and education, for the

performance of the varied duties of life. It is somewhat singular

that both Lee and his great lieutenant, Jackson, should in their last

moments have referred to Hill. It is reported that General Lee said,

'Let my tent be struck; send for Hill;' while the lamented Jackson in

his delirium cried out, 'Let A.P. Hill prepare for action; march the

infantry rapidly to the front. Let us cross over the river and rest

under the shade of the trees.' Both heroes died with commands for

military movements on their lips; both the noblest specimens of the

Christian soldier produced by any country or any age; both now rest

under the shade of the trees of heaven."

REV. DR. PALMER

Then spoke as follows:

"_Ladies and Gentlemen_: I should have been better pleased had I been

permitted to sit a simple listener to the eloquent tribute paid to the

immortal chieftain who now reposes in death, by the speaker who has

just taken his seat. The nature of my calling so far separates me from

public life that I am scarcely competent for the office of alluding to

the elements which naturally gather around his career. When informed

that other artists would draw the picture of the warrior and the hero,

I yielded a cheerful compliance, in the belief that nothing was left

but to describe the Christian and the man. You are entirely familiar

with the early life of him over whose grave you this night shed tears;

with his grave and sedate boyhood giving promise of the reserved force

of mature manhood; with his academic career at West Point, where he

received the highest honors of a class brilliant with such names as

General Joseph E. Johnston; his seizure of the highest honors of a

long apprenticeship in that institution, and his abrupt ascension in

the Mexican War from obscurity to fame--all are too firmly stamped in

the minds of his admirers to require even an allusion. You are too

familiar to need a repetition from my lips of that great mental and

spiritual struggle passed, not one night, but many, when, abandoning

the service in which he had gathered so much of honor and reputation,

he determined to lay his heart upon the altar of his native State, and

swear to live or die in her defence.

"It would be a somewhat singular subject of speculation to discover

how it is that national character so often remarkably expresses itself

in single individuals who are born as representatives of a class. It

is wonderful, for it has been the remark of ages, how the great are

born in clusters; sometimes, indeed, one star shining with solitary

splendor in the firmament above, but generally gathered in grand

constellations, filling the sky with glory. What is that combination

of influences, partly physical, partly intellectual, but somewhat more

moral, which should make a particular country productive of men great

over all others on earth and to all ages of time? Ancient Greece, with

her indented coast, inviting to maritime adventures, from her earliest

period was the mother of heroes in war, of poets in song, of sculptors

and artists, and stands up after the lapse of centuries the educator

of mankind, living in the grandeur of her works and in the immortal

productions of minds which modern civilization with all its

cultivation and refinement and science never surpassed and scarcely

equalled. And why in the three hundred years of American history it

should be given to the Old Dominion to be the grand mother, not only

of States, but of the men by whom States and empires are formed, it

might be curious were it possible for us to inquire. Unquestionably,

Mr. President, there is in this problem the element of race; for he

is blind to all the truths of history, to all the revelations of the

past, who does not recognize a select race as we recognize a select

individual of a race, to make all history; but pretermitting all

speculation of that sort, when Virginia unfolds the scroll of her

immortal sons--not because illustrious men did not precede him

gathering in constellations and clusters, but because the name shines

out through those constellations and clusters in all its peerless

grandeur--we read the name of George Washington. And then, Mr.

President, after the interval of three-quarters of a century, when

your jealous eye has ranged down the record and traced the names that

history will never let die, you come to the name--the only name in all

the annals of history that can be named in the perilous connection--of

Robert E. Lee, the second Washington. Well may old Virginia be proud

of her twin sons! born almost a century apart, but shining like those

binary stars which open their glory and shed their splendor on the

darkness of the world.

"Sir, it is not an artifice of rhetoric which suggests this parallel

between two great names in American history; for the suggestion

springs spontaneously to every mind, and men scarcely speak of Lee

without thinking of a mysterious connection that binds the two

together. They were alike in the presage of their early history--the

history of their boyhood. Both earnest, grave, studious; both alike

in that peculiar purity which belongs only to a noble boy, and which

makes him a brave and noble man, filling the page of a history

spotless until closed in death; alike in that commanding presence

which seems to be the signature of Heaven sometimes placed on a great

soul when to that soul is given a fit dwelling-place; alike in that

noble carriage and commanding dignity, exercising a mesmeric influence

and a hidden power which could not be repressed, upon all who came

within its charm; alike in the remarkable combination and symmetry of

their intellectual attributes, all brought up to the same equal level,

no faculty of the mind overlapping any other--all so equal, so well

developed, the judgment, the reason, the memory, the fancy, that

you are almost disposed to deny them greatness, because no single

attribute of the mind was projected upon itself, just as objects

appear sometimes smaller to the eye from the exact symmetry and beauty

of their proportions; alike, above all, in that soul-greatness, that

Christian virtue to which so beautiful a tribute has been rendered by

my friend whose high privilege it was to be a compeer and comrade with

the immortal dead, although in another department and sphere; and

yet alike, Mr. President, in their external fortune, so strangely

dissimilar--the one the representative and the agent of a stupendous

revolution which it pleased Heaven to bless and give birth to one of

the mightiest nations on the globe; the other the representative and

agent of a similar revolution, upon which it pleased high Heaven to

throw the darkness of its frown; so that, bearing upon his generous

heart the weight of this crushed cause, he was at length overwhelmed;

and the nation whom he led in battle gathers with spontaneity of grief

over all this land which is ploughed with graves and reddened with

blood, and the tears of a widowed nation in her bereavement are shed

over his honored grave.

"But these crude suggestions, which fall almost impromptu from my

lips, suggest that which I desire to offer before this audience

to-night. I accept Robert E. Lee as the true type of the American

man and the Southern gentleman. A brilliant English writer has well

remarked, with a touch of sound philosophy, that when a nation has

rushed upon its fate, the whole force of the national life will

sometimes shoot up in one grand character, like the aloe which blooms

at the end of a hundred years, shooting up in one single spike of

glory, and then expires. And wherever philosophy, refinement, and

culture, have gone upon the globe, it is possible to place the finger

upon individual men who are the exemplars of a nation's character,

those typical forms under which others less noble, less expanded, have

manifested themselves. That gentle, that perfect moderation, that

self-command which enabled him to be so self-possessed amid the most

trying difficulties of his public career, a refinement almost such as

that which marks the character of the purest woman, were blended

in him with that massive strength, that mighty endurance, that

consistency and power which gave him and the people whom he led such

momentum under the disadvantages of the struggle through which he

passed. Born from the general level of American society, blood of a

noble ancestry flowed in his veins, and he was a type of the race from

which he sprang. Such was the grandeur and urbaneness of his manner,

the dignity and majesty of his carriage, that his only peer in social

life could be found in courts and among those educated amid the

refinements of courts and thrones. In that regard there was something

beautiful and appropriate that he should become, in the later years of

his life, the educator of the young. Sir, it is a cause for mourning

before high Heaven to-night that he was not spared thirty years to

educate a generation for the time that is to come; for, as in the days

when the red banner streamed over the land, the South sent her sons

to fight under his flag and beneath the wave of his sword, these sons

have been sent again to sit at his feet when he was the disciple

of the Muses and the teacher of philosophy. Oh, that he might have

brought his more than regal character, his majestic fame, all his

intellectual and moral endowments, to the task of fitting those that

should come in the crisis of the future to take the mantle that had

fallen from his shoulders and bear it to the generations that are

unborn!

"General Lee I accept as the representative of his people, and of the

temper with which this whole Southland entered into that gigantic,

that prolonged, and that disastrous struggle which has closed, but

closed as to us in grief. Sir, they wrong us who say that the South

was ever impatient to rupture the bonds of the American Union. The war

of 1776, which, sir, has no more yet a written history than has the

war of 1861 to 1865, tells us that it was this Southland that wrought

the Revolution of 1776. We were the heirs of all the glory of that

immortal struggle. It was purchased with our blood, with the blood of

our fathers which yet flows in these veins, and which we desire to

transmit, pure and consecrated, to the sons that are born to our

loins. The traditions of the past sixty years were a portion of our

heritage, and it never was easy for any great heart and reflective

mind even to seem to part with that heritage to enter upon the

perilous effort of establishing a new nationality.

"Mr. President, it was my privilege once to be thrilled in a short

speech, uttered by one of the noblest names clustering upon the roll

of South Carolina; for, sir, South Carolina was Virginia's sister,

and South Carolina stood by Virginia in the old struggle, as Virginia

stood by South Carolina in the new, and the little State, small as

Greece, barren in resources but great only in the grandeur of the men,

in their gigantic proportions, whom she, like Virginia, was permitted

to produce--I heard, sir, one of South Carolina's noblest sons

speak once thus: 'I walked through the Tower of London, that grand

repository where are gathered the memorials of England's martial

prowess; and when the guide, in the pride of his English heart,

pointed to the spoils of war collected through centuries of the past,'

said this speaker, lifting himself upon tiptoe that he might reach to

his greatest height, 'I said, "You cannot point to one single

trophy from my people, or my country, though England engaged in two

disastrous wars with her."' Sir, this was the sentiment. We loved

every inch of American soil, and loved every part of that canvas

[pointing to the Stars and Stripes above him], which, as a symbol of

power and authority, floated from the spires and from the mast-head

of our vessels; and it was after the anguish of a woman in birth that

this land, that now lies in her sorrow and ruin, took upon herself

that great peril; but it is all emblematized in the regret experienced

by him whose praises are upon our lips, and who, like the English

Nelson, recognized duty engraved in letters of light as the

only ensign he could follow, and who, tearing away from all the

associations of his early life, and, abandoning the reputation gained

in the old service, made up his mind to embark in the new, and, with

that modesty and that firmness belonging only to the truly great,

expressed his willingness to live and die in the position assigned to

him.

"And I accept this noble chieftain equally as the representative of

this Southland in the spirit of his retirement from struggle. It could

not escape any speaker upon this platform to allude to the dignity of

that retirement; how, from the moment he surrendered he withdrew from

observation, holding aloof from all political complications, and

devoting his entire energies to the great work he had undertaken to

discharge. In this he represents--an the true attitude of the South

since the close of the war attitude of quiet submission to the

conquering power and of obedience to all exactions; but without

resiling from those great principles which were embalmed in the

struggle, and which, as the convictions of a lifetime, no honest mind

could release.

"All over this land of ours there are men like Lee--not as great, not

as symmetrical in the development of character, not as grand in the

proportions which they have reached, but who, like him, are sleeping

upon memories that are holy as death, and who, amid all reproach,

appeal to the future, and to the tribunal of History, when she shall

render her final verdict in reference to the struggle closed, for the

vindication of the people embarked in that struggle. We are silent,

resigned, obedient, and thoughtful, sleeping upon solemn memories,

Mr. President; but, as said by the poet-preacher in the Good Book, 'I

sleep, but my heart waketh,' looking upon the future that is to come,

and powerless in every thing except to pray to Almighty God, who rules

the destinies of nations, that those who have the power may at least

have the grace given them to preserve the constitutional principles

which we have endeavored to maintain. And, sir, were it my privilege

to speak in the hearing of the entire nation, I would utter with

the profoundest emphasis this pregnant truth: that no people ever

traversed those moral ideas which underlie its character, its

constitution, its institutions, and its laws, that did not in the end

perish in disaster, in shame, and in dishonor. Whatever be the glory,

the material civilization, of which such a nation may boast, it still

holds true that the truth is immortal, and that ideas rule the world.

"And now I have but a single word to say, and that is, that the grave

of this noble hero is bedewed with the most tender and sacred

tears ever shed upon a human tomb. I was thinking in my study this

afternoon, striving to strike out something I might utter on this

platform, and this parallel between the first Washington and the

second occurred to me. I asked my own heart the question, 'Would you

not accept the fame and the glory and the career of Robert E. Lee just

as soon as accept the glory and career of the immortal man who was his

predecessor?' Sir, there is a pathos in fallen fortunes which stirs

the sensibilities, and touches the very fountain of human feeling. I

am not sure that at this moment Napoleon, the enforced guest of the

Prussian king, is not grander than when he ascended the throne of

France. There is a grandeur in misfortune when that misfortune is

borne by a noble heart, with the strength of will to endure, and

endure without complaining or breaking. Perhaps I slip easily into

this train of remarks, for it is my peculiar office to speak of that

chastening with which a gracious Providence visits men on this earth,

and by which He prepares them for heaven hereafter; and what is true

of individuals in a state of adversity, is true of nations when

clothed in sorrow. Sir, the men in these galleries that once wore the

gray are here to-night that they may bend the knee in reverence at

the grave of him whose voice and hand they obeyed amid the storms of

battle: the young widow, who but as yesterday leaned upon the arm of

her soldier-husband, but now clasps wildly to her breast the young

child that never beheld its father's face, comes here to shed her

tears over this grave to-night; and the aged matron, with the tears

streaming from her eyes as she recalls her unforgotten dead, lying on

the plains of Gettysburg, or on the heights of Fredericksburg, now,

to-night, joins in our dirge over him who was that son's chieftain and

counsellor and friend. A whole nation has risen up in the spontaneity

of its grief to render the tribute of its love. Sir, there is a unity

in the grapes when they grow together in the clusters upon the vine,

and holding the bunch in your hand you speak of it as one; but there

is another unity when you throw these grapes into the wine-press,

and the feet of those that bruise these grapes trample them almost

profanely beneath their feet together in the communion of pure wine;

and such is the union and communion of hearts that have been fused by

tribulation and sorrow, and that meet together in the true feeling of

an honest grief to express the homage of their affection, as well as

to render a tribute of praise to him upon whose face we shall never

look until on that immortal day when we shall behold it transfigured

before the throne of God."

The meeting then adopted the following preamble and resolutions:

"_Whereas_, Like orphans at the grave of a parent untimely snatched

away, our hearts have lingered and brooded, with a grief that no

cunning of speech could interpret, over the thought that Robert Edward

Lee exists no more, in bodily life, in sensible form, in visible

presence, for our love and veneration, for our edification and

guidance, for our comfort and solace; and--

"_Whereas_, We have invoked all mute funeral emblems to aid us with

their utmost eloquence of woe, and we cannot content ourselves with

contemplating, from the depth and the gloom of our bereavement, the

exalted and radiant virtues of the dead:

"_Resolved_, That we, the people of New Orleans, have come together

under one common impulse to render united homage to the memory which

holds mastery in our minds, whether we turn with bitter regard to the

past, or with prayerful and chastened aspirations to the future.

"_Resolved_, That as Louisianians, as Southerners, as Americans,

we proudly claim our share in the fame of Lee as an inheritance

rightfully belonging to us, and endowed with which we shall piously

cherish, though all calamities should rain upon us, true poverty--the

poverty indeed that abases and starves the spirit can never approach

us with its noisome breath and withering look.