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Civil War America
Wade Hampton: Confederate Warrior to Southern Redeemer
One of the South's most illustrious military leaders, Wade Hampton III was for a time the commander of all Lee's cavalry and at the end of the war was the highest-ranking Confederate cavalry officer. Yet for all Hampton's military victories, he also suffered devastating losses in his family and personal life. Rod Andrew's critical biography sheds light on his central role during Reconstruction as a conservative white leader, governor, U.S. senator, and Redeemer; his heroic image in the minds of white southerners; and his positions and apparent contradictions on race and the role of African Americans in the New South. Andrew also shows that Hampton's tragic past explains how he emerged in his own day as a larger-than-life symbol--of national reconciliation as well as southern defiance.
640 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2008
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
June 10, 2021
Military commanders' lives have fascinated me. This man is no exception. His views today, looked through a 21 century lens, may be controversial yet let's place his life in context of the early to mid 19c America. It always hits me as an Aussie that the Civil War was fought between few states and within a relatively small area of the USA. Hanpton's personal losses were significant and we feel for him.
December 21, 2008
One of the wealthiest plantation owners in late antebellum South Carolina, one of the Confederacy's most talented cavalry officers and most accomplished "political generals," and a major leader of the Democratic "Redeemer" movement that ultimately defeated Northern efforts to "Reconstruct" the South, Wade Hampton III's legendary career cuts across a wide swath of Southern history. Even given his daunting historical stature, however, it is remarkable that at least four full-length biographies of Hampton have appeared in just the last five years! At over six hundred pages Rod Andrew's is much the fullest and most ambitious of this crop. The author takes on the substantial task of imposing order on the different stages of the general's career, generally with impressive success.
While fantastically wealthy in terms of land and slave ownership, Hampton was also seriously debt-ridden even before the war. Passionately committed to the cause of secession and the Confederacy, like so many anxious white South Carolinians during the same period, Hampton committed his person and his wealth to the war effort to an extent that few if any could match. He raised the famous "Hampton legion" at his own expense, and served throughout the war with great distinction and at great personal danger and sacrifice. He was repeatedly wounded on the battlefield, establishing a reputation for courage and tactical sense second to none among Confederate cavalry leaders. He also lost one of his sons, shot down before his eyes on a Virginia battlefield in one of the conflict's most famously heart-wrenching scenes. The Civil War firmly established Hampton as the favorite son of white South Carolinians, but also ruined him financially, as his home was burned and his slaves emancipated. Following the war he emerged as a champion of resistance to Republican Reconstruction policy, but also as a spokesman for a paternalistic strategy aimed at winning African Americans over to the Democratic party. His moderate plan envisioned creating a new biracial political movement in the South led by the old white elite. Hampton's vision was decisively rejected by white South Carolinians, though the old Confederate hero himself continued to enjoy their esteem, particularly after he grudgingly accepted the death of his career in state politics in 1890 at the hands of the ferociously racist political machine of his rival "Pitchfork Ben" Tillman.
Andrews's book is somewhat old-fashioned in its massive amount of biographical detail and unabashedly favorable interpretation of its subject, but does appropriately draw on a wide range of contemporary scholarship, particularly relating to "the intertwining concepts of honor, paternalism, and chivalry," which he argues are fundamental to understanding the South Carolinian's beliefs and behaviors (p. 3). This focus is useful and convincing to a point, though arguing that "race was rarely [the] primary concern" of a figure so heavily committed to secession, the Confederacy, and the Redeemer movement might be overstating the case somewhat (p. xv). But in fact Andrew is generally judicious in interpretation, if perhaps a bit strident in maintaining this position at times. He takes issue for instance with Stephen Kantrowitz's recent argument that Tillman's violently anti-black policy and Hampton's conciliatory paternalism were both essential to restoring white supremacy to South Carolina, and the South generally. Andrew is certainly right that the two men's racial attitudes were distinct and should not be conflated, but still the basic point that both policies in practice worked toward the renewed subjugation of African Americans seems like the important one.
Nevertheless the author provides an insightful analysis of Hampton's already anachronistic (if not outright mythical) paternalistic attitudes and their increasingly overt and disdainful rejection by his fellow white Democrats in the postwar South. As the Redeemers increasingly acted on their determination to accomplish the political disfranchisement and social and economic subordination of African Americans through bloody violence, Hampton and his views became marginalized. By the time of his death in 1902, however, the discredited, discarded political leader had been elevated to a lofty status in South Carolina (and nationally) as a supposed paragon of the martial, chivalric values of the Old South and the Lost Cause. The mythical paternalistic South that he both loved and came to personify no longer existed of course, and probably never really did. In this sense, studying his bitter political enemy Ben Tillman's political career would surely tell us more about the ugly practical social realities and political workings of the post-bellum South. It is unsurprising though that modern historians and readers, as well as his contemporaries, would prefer to think about the more comfortable and admirable myth represented so well by Wade Hampton III.
While fantastically wealthy in terms of land and slave ownership, Hampton was also seriously debt-ridden even before the war. Passionately committed to the cause of secession and the Confederacy, like so many anxious white South Carolinians during the same period, Hampton committed his person and his wealth to the war effort to an extent that few if any could match. He raised the famous "Hampton legion" at his own expense, and served throughout the war with great distinction and at great personal danger and sacrifice. He was repeatedly wounded on the battlefield, establishing a reputation for courage and tactical sense second to none among Confederate cavalry leaders. He also lost one of his sons, shot down before his eyes on a Virginia battlefield in one of the conflict's most famously heart-wrenching scenes. The Civil War firmly established Hampton as the favorite son of white South Carolinians, but also ruined him financially, as his home was burned and his slaves emancipated. Following the war he emerged as a champion of resistance to Republican Reconstruction policy, but also as a spokesman for a paternalistic strategy aimed at winning African Americans over to the Democratic party. His moderate plan envisioned creating a new biracial political movement in the South led by the old white elite. Hampton's vision was decisively rejected by white South Carolinians, though the old Confederate hero himself continued to enjoy their esteem, particularly after he grudgingly accepted the death of his career in state politics in 1890 at the hands of the ferociously racist political machine of his rival "Pitchfork Ben" Tillman.
Andrews's book is somewhat old-fashioned in its massive amount of biographical detail and unabashedly favorable interpretation of its subject, but does appropriately draw on a wide range of contemporary scholarship, particularly relating to "the intertwining concepts of honor, paternalism, and chivalry," which he argues are fundamental to understanding the South Carolinian's beliefs and behaviors (p. 3). This focus is useful and convincing to a point, though arguing that "race was rarely [the] primary concern" of a figure so heavily committed to secession, the Confederacy, and the Redeemer movement might be overstating the case somewhat (p. xv). But in fact Andrew is generally judicious in interpretation, if perhaps a bit strident in maintaining this position at times. He takes issue for instance with Stephen Kantrowitz's recent argument that Tillman's violently anti-black policy and Hampton's conciliatory paternalism were both essential to restoring white supremacy to South Carolina, and the South generally. Andrew is certainly right that the two men's racial attitudes were distinct and should not be conflated, but still the basic point that both policies in practice worked toward the renewed subjugation of African Americans seems like the important one.
Nevertheless the author provides an insightful analysis of Hampton's already anachronistic (if not outright mythical) paternalistic attitudes and their increasingly overt and disdainful rejection by his fellow white Democrats in the postwar South. As the Redeemers increasingly acted on their determination to accomplish the political disfranchisement and social and economic subordination of African Americans through bloody violence, Hampton and his views became marginalized. By the time of his death in 1902, however, the discredited, discarded political leader had been elevated to a lofty status in South Carolina (and nationally) as a supposed paragon of the martial, chivalric values of the Old South and the Lost Cause. The mythical paternalistic South that he both loved and came to personify no longer existed of course, and probably never really did. In this sense, studying his bitter political enemy Ben Tillman's political career would surely tell us more about the ugly practical social realities and political workings of the post-bellum South. It is unsurprising though that modern historians and readers, as well as his contemporaries, would prefer to think about the more comfortable and admirable myth represented so well by Wade Hampton III.
September 21, 2016
I’ve been doing research on Wade Hampton, and this is by far the most useful source I’ve read so far. Rod Andrew Jr. does an excellent job of exploring Hampton’s often contradictory actions and words; he explains them in the context of the times and Hampton’s social class and succeeds in presenting a balanced, well-researched portrait of a complex man that does not gilt him with Lost Cause glorification or condemn him for not holding 21st century views in the 19th century. Anyone who reads this book will find in its pages a fascinating character and will finish it with a better understanding of the times and events it covers.
Hampton was one of the strongest voices opposing secession in South Carolina, but when his state seceded he threw himself behind it without restriction, even donating the proceeds from his 1861 cotton crop to the Confederacy, which was part of the reason he had to file bankruptcy some years after the war. During the war, he received the first of three wartime wounds while leading an infantry brigade at First Manassas (First Bull Run); after the death of J.E.B. Stuart in 1864, he became the commander of Robert E. Lee’s cavalry until he left Lee’s army and returned to South Carolina to defend his state against William T. Sherman’s juggernaut.
Hampton may have owned more slaves than anyone else in the country at the beginning of the Civil War—certainly he owned hundreds—but post-war, he was far more moderate on racial matters than many of his contemporaries. As South Carolina’s governor (first elected in 1876) he kept his promises to black voters by appointing members of their race to political positions. In speaking to white audiences, he repeatedly asked for fair treatment of Negroes (to use the term of his time) and told those audiences that if the state’s policy became one of turning its back on the colored people he could not carry out that policy, for it would sacrifice his honor. But he also told a meeting of his black supporters that any race that put itself in opposition to the white race “must give way before the advancing tide and die out as the Indians have done.”
Andrews explains Hampton’s concern for freedmen after the war was not a desire for racial equality but was a combination of condescending paternalism (noblesse oblige) and concern with his own honor, living up to promises he made to South Carolina’s black population. Hampton was born into the state’s elite and throughout his life he retained a belief that the elite class should lead and others should follow. He actively sought a degree of equality between races—in education for example—but always with the notion that his class would remain atop the social hierarchy, above poor and middle-class whites as well as blacks, all of whom should vote to keep the elite in power.
During the war he developed a hatred for Yankees that he carried throughout Reconstruction, but he joined President Rutherford B. Hayes and others for a goodwill tour of several states to promote national reconciliation. He spent much of his later life trying to redeem the South in the eyes of the world and history and never lost his conviction that state’s rights were supreme and the Confederate cause was just, but his personal honor and dignity won him many supporters throughout the country. Nevertheless, at various times he was attacked by Democrats, by Republicans, and sometimes both at the same time.
I recommend this book to readers seeking a better understanding of Southern society and Southern thinking in the 19th century, and I especially commend it to anyone looking for a thoughtful biography about a complex, contradictory individual.
Hampton was one of the strongest voices opposing secession in South Carolina, but when his state seceded he threw himself behind it without restriction, even donating the proceeds from his 1861 cotton crop to the Confederacy, which was part of the reason he had to file bankruptcy some years after the war. During the war, he received the first of three wartime wounds while leading an infantry brigade at First Manassas (First Bull Run); after the death of J.E.B. Stuart in 1864, he became the commander of Robert E. Lee’s cavalry until he left Lee’s army and returned to South Carolina to defend his state against William T. Sherman’s juggernaut.
Hampton may have owned more slaves than anyone else in the country at the beginning of the Civil War—certainly he owned hundreds—but post-war, he was far more moderate on racial matters than many of his contemporaries. As South Carolina’s governor (first elected in 1876) he kept his promises to black voters by appointing members of their race to political positions. In speaking to white audiences, he repeatedly asked for fair treatment of Negroes (to use the term of his time) and told those audiences that if the state’s policy became one of turning its back on the colored people he could not carry out that policy, for it would sacrifice his honor. But he also told a meeting of his black supporters that any race that put itself in opposition to the white race “must give way before the advancing tide and die out as the Indians have done.”
Andrews explains Hampton’s concern for freedmen after the war was not a desire for racial equality but was a combination of condescending paternalism (noblesse oblige) and concern with his own honor, living up to promises he made to South Carolina’s black population. Hampton was born into the state’s elite and throughout his life he retained a belief that the elite class should lead and others should follow. He actively sought a degree of equality between races—in education for example—but always with the notion that his class would remain atop the social hierarchy, above poor and middle-class whites as well as blacks, all of whom should vote to keep the elite in power.
During the war he developed a hatred for Yankees that he carried throughout Reconstruction, but he joined President Rutherford B. Hayes and others for a goodwill tour of several states to promote national reconciliation. He spent much of his later life trying to redeem the South in the eyes of the world and history and never lost his conviction that state’s rights were supreme and the Confederate cause was just, but his personal honor and dignity won him many supporters throughout the country. Nevertheless, at various times he was attacked by Democrats, by Republicans, and sometimes both at the same time.
I recommend this book to readers seeking a better understanding of Southern society and Southern thinking in the 19th century, and I especially commend it to anyone looking for a thoughtful biography about a complex, contradictory individual.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews