As the title to this piece suggests, discussing historical events often depends on whether it in itself is a good story. This is not to be confused or presumed that ‘bad’ events are a ‘good’ story, but rather the story itself must be compelling in order to garner our attention. Some historical events that require our knowledge of them are less than admirable or overly interesting: think the invention of the shoe lace. But behind every shoe lace tied is a person with a story of his/her own to tell. And no two stories are alike. This is what makes learning and teaching history fascinating and rewarding.
One of my favorite stories that I used to tell to grade school students was the curious life of coincidences of Virginian Wilmer McLean. Those of you familiar with his story can rest assured I do not plan to detail every aspect of his life here. But for those unfamiliar with Mr. McLean, consider the strange fate of how his name appears in the annuals of American History.
McLean was a grocer living near Manassas, Virginia in 1861 when the Civil War broke out. During the First Battle of Bull Run that began on July 21, McLean’s farm was in the midst of the blood and fury. Cannon and rifle shots pocked his house. Following the events, McLean, a Confederate sympathizer and wary of Union encroachment, decided to move his family to safer quarters further south to the hamlet of Appomattox Court House. It seemed McLean had escaped much of the war until the war literally came knocking on his door one morning in April 1865.
Several stories exist over what exactly transpired this morning. The one I learned in college, taught by a military historian, goes something like this. As the Union Army under Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant had cut off supply routes to Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia, what spirits remained within Lee’s ranks quickly began fading towards desperation. Many of his soldiers would soon starve to death. Lee, recognizing that he was outnumbered and surrounded in all directions, finally accepted the inevitable: surrender. A courier had been sent to the Union lines to inform Grant that Lee was ready to discuss terms of surrender. On the morning of April 8, two Confederate officers walked the streets of Appomattox, the nearest town to both armies, looking for a suitable place to hold a meeting between the rival commanders. The doors to the local church were locked. When they saw a man walking his dog, the two officers requested if the man knew of a place where a meeting ‘of the highest importance’ could be held. The man reluctantly offered the parlor room in his home. The man was Wilmer McLean.
On April 9, 1865, in the home of Wilmer McLean, Confederate General Robert E. Lee officially surrendered his forces to Union General Ulysses S. Grant. The meeting was cordial from the beginning. Lee arrived first. Grant, nursing a migraine (not from drinking), showed up late. The air was immediately softened when Grant spoke fondly of his memories serving beneath Lee in the Mexican War. In fact, it was Lee who had to break up the reminiscing to get down to why the two men were there. On the spot, Grant wrote out the complete terms of unconditional surrender, allowing Lee’s officers to keep their sidearms and his soldiers to keep their horses. When it was over, the two men shook hands, and Lee departed. Walking down the steps and saddling his horse, Traveller, General Lee, shielded by his subordinates, trotted along the dusty street that was now aligned on either side with Union soldiers. Immediately, the solders began jeering and mouthing off to Lee. Grant, appearing on the porch, reportedly shouted, “There will be none of that now!” The soldiers went silent. Lee, the defeated general, was looked upon with a mystique by the blue boys. He was their endgame: the specter that dogged them and haunted their dreams for four long, bloody years. Now he was their captured flag, their trophy to hoist, but Grant, emulating Lincoln, demanded no malice towards the enemy. And with his surrender, the Civil War would finally begin its final days.
For Wilmer McLean, the meeting brought short term pandemonium to his family’s home. Union officers quickly went about snatching everything in the room not bolted down. The desks both Lee and Grant sat at individually were seized as keepsakes and other furniture in the room was bartered for a handful of dollars. McLean moved his family out of the house two years later and the house was eventually torn down to be moved to a new location as a monument, but the plan fell apart. A replica now sits in the spot at Appomattox, Virginia.
So why tell this story? Life has a way of occasionally presenting ‘can you believe it’ stories that happen to be true. The story of Wilmer McLean is one of them. How many citizens could claim that the Civil War began in his backyard (Manassas) and ended in his living room (literally)? And what’s ‘fun’ about telling this particular story is that the incredible coincidence of it all strikes a chord with everyone. It’s why when I used to tell it to students, focusing on the ones who you knew were not into history, they would respond positively, and ask questions.
If the point of telling history is to tell a good story, then why doesn’t Mr. McLean’s tale get more recognition? I would like to think because he was not a president or a general or anyone of particular importance, his story has sunk to a minor footnote in the volumes of Civil War lore where one can read it, nod in an elevated brow of curiosity, and then move on. But we should remember that its these types of stories that actually imprint themselves deeper into our psyches more than the blood and guts of battlefields. For those of us who’ve never experienced combat, the reading of combat can be enlightening, but it also tends to seem like fantasy. When we read stories like McLean’s, many more of us can relate to the dumb-luck comedy of how life can throw things at you in ways you’d never imagine. His story is one such tale that reminds us all that when we think we’ve figured it out, fate has a funny way of playing us all for fools.
Very interesting and this is a great feat of research and discovery. Keep it coming and this is very inspiring.
You are off to a rollicking start, Adam! I look forward to your future postings.