Lee's Ghost

Woe to the conquered.

Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill,
Complain thou not, O heart; for these
Bank-in the current of the will
To uses, arts, and charities.

—Sidney Lanier, a Southern poet, “Opposition”

Source: screenshot from The Washington Post.

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The countenance of Robert E. Lee assumed an incandescent glow atop a furnace before nameless foundry workers melted it down to oblivion. His bronze eyes seemed to peer down with a noble quietude, like a man who would deny his tormentors the satisfaction of a modicum of his suffering.

So was the fate of the statue of Lee that sat astride his horse in Charlottesville, Virginia, which was at the center of the “Unite the Right” rally in 2017.