One hundred fifty years ago, Robert E. Lee surrendered. The defeated general was already becoming a legend and, that day, he looked it. His gray uniform was buttoned to the throat, and the April sun caught his magnificent silver beard, high boots and jeweled sword-hilt.

This was the man who had, extraordinarily, been offered the command of both sides’ armies; and who, though he disliked slavery and was cool about secession, could not in the end bring himself to draw his blade against Virginia.