For years, this has been one of those books I was going to get to. I suppose it was a recent trip to Gettysburg that spurred me to finally crack the dingy-looking pages of a bookstore special, the memoirs of General James Longstreet, From Manassas to Appomattox. There is a raw power to this material that sometimes overwhelms. There is self-interest in this account, an alibi-intensive recounting, that sometimes pervades the narrative, but there is also that sense of helplessness, of waste, that surrounds the account. In one sense, I avoided this book out of denial. Longstreet was a Confederate general. I may have thought that reading such a volume would offer approval of the “Rebel” cause. Since my own ancestors lived in the mountains of Georgia at the time, I somehow sensed that I would incur a certain amount of guilt in the reading.
I know this is illogical. In wargames, using map-like boards on table-tops, moving miniature figures across model railroad-like terrain, and commanding troops on my computer screen, I never sensed that I was giving in to the darker portion of my heritage. That was always “representative” of history. It was close enough to learn, but not close enough to be locked into the perspective of the time. With General Longstreet’s perspective, one senses the waste, the futility, the self-absorbed ambition, and the incompetence within that ragtag army. For some reason, it hits me harder because the reader is experiencing these battles from the perspective of someone who wanted to win and was frustrated when it wasn’t happening. And, personally, it often felt like Longstreet was very quick to pass the blame (or conversely, to claim credit).
I often wondered why so many men who had been trained and served as Union officers (such as Longstreet himself) were allowed to resign the army and enlist with the Confederate cause, but hadn’t seen the clear-cut reason until I read, “…private soldiers could not go without authority from the War Department; that it was different with commissioned offiers, in that the latter could resign their commissions, and when the resignations were accepted, they were independent of military authority, and could, as other citizens, take such action as they might choose…” (p. 30).
These memoirs contain some interesting suggestions. Longstreet believed that a spy in Colonel Stuart’s Confederate cavalry had tipped off Union General McCall of a raid on a supply depot in Dranesville (p. 62), leading to what Longstreet called the first Union success of the war and McClellan’s largely undeserved reputation as “the Young Napoleon.” (p. 63) Longstreet also cites the account of General Rains (of D. H. Hill’s division) finding an abandoned ammunition wagon with some artillery shells which hadn’t been fired and sensitive fuse primers. By burying them in the midst of some brush and tree limbs, the general was able to transform ammunition that couldn’t be used by the Confederate troops into what we would call IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) today and probably suggested “mines” to those in Longstreet’s day. The devices were apparently successful as a group of Federal cavalry are reputed to have set them off and taken casualties (p. 79). I hadn’t thought about that tactic in ACW terms.
Ever consider that movie trope (in westerns and war movies in particular) where a character puts a hat on a stick to draw fire or uses an impromptu designed “dummy” to draw fire? Longstreet tells about the creation of a literal “straw man” that the Confederates named “Julius Caesar” designed to draw Federal artillery fire (pp. 325-6). Maybe that trope isn’t as far-fetched as one would think. Do you remember stories and pictures about barefoot Confederate soldiers? Longstreet confirms, “…the poorly protected feet of our soldiers sometimes left bitter marks along the roads.” (p. 526) On the same page he details ordering men without shoes to remain as camp guards instead of marching into battle, but “…many preferred to march with their comrades.”
I really enjoyed some of the interesting (but sometimes gross) anecdotes told by the general in this volume. Longstreet seemed inordinately interested in the third horse shot out from under General D. H. Hill on the first day of Antietam. Lee, Longstreet, and some others were reconnoitering from the crest of a hillside on foot while D. H. Hill was riding on horseback. Longstreet states that he asked Hill to ride a bit aside from them lest he draw fire on the whole group. A single cannon shot rang out and Longstreet claims he said, “There comes one for General Hill!” Then, the shot took off both of the horse’s forelegs. Even then, when Hill was having trouble extricating himself, Longstreet makes the suggestion of how he could get loose (p. 254).
Did you ever think about how security was handled in that pre-shredder era? Longstreet recounts: “Some of the Confederates were a little surprised that a matter of such magnitude [an operational order from Lee] was intrusted [sic] to pen-and-ink despatches [sic]. The copy sent me was carefully read, then used as some persons use a little cut of tobacco, to be assured that others could not have the benefit of its content.” (p. 213) How about the recoil in cannons packed with double-shot? In a desperate, last-ditch effort to hold off a Yankee advance, a gunnery captain named Miller double-shot the two cannons he commanded and, according to Longstreet, “…his guns at the discharge leaped in the air from ten to twelve inches.” (p. 251) The recoiling cannons were just so easy to picture!
In a testament to the times, Longstreet cannot resist preaching a sermon comparing the situation with the conquest of Israel. Alas, he mixes his metaphors by first comparing the Confederates to the inhabitants of Jericho (“…was scarcely a greater miracle than the transformation of the conquering army of the South into a horde of disordered fugitives before an army that two weeks earlier was flying to cover under its homeward ramparts” – p. 283) and then, similar to the army of Israel which was immediately routed at Ai (“Providence helps those who can avail themselves of His tender care, but permits those who will to turn from Him in their own arrogance. ….in self-confidence, they lost sight of His helping hand, and in contempt of the enemy dispersed the army, …given up to the reward of vainglory.” – pp. 283-4). This excerpt demonstrates how pervasive Biblical allusions were—even in such violent times and in support of a reprehensible institution (slavery).
Ever wonder at military lessons to be learned from reading old battle accounts? How about the following warning about using what could be “combined arms” as though all were the same type. In this case, the Confederate infantry were under the command of a cavalry general near Hagerstown, MD. “They had dire complaints to make of the way cavalrymen put them in columns of fours against batteries when they could have advanced more rapidly and effectively in line of battle and saved half of their men lost.” (p. 428) Of course, logistics are important as well as revealed when “…unfortunately, as our resources became more circumscribed, the officers, instead of putting forth stronger efforts in their business, seemed to lose the energy of their former service, and General Lee found himself called upon to feed as well as fight his army.” (p. 574) And, one learns from such memoirs that some things never change. More than once Longstreet complains of Bragg, “…he wanted papers that would throw the responsibility of delay upon other shoulders” (p. 483) and complained of having to fight a campaign while “…our friends in rear putting in their paper bullets.” (p. 486) “Paper bullets” is an exceptionally good term for harmful bureaucracy.
Some of the history recounted in this volume was unknown to me. I had forgotten that General Braxton Bragg, after ignoring the advice of his subordinates and failing to follow through on his orders was relieved of command at Dalton, GA, President Davis called him to Richmond as commander-in-chief (p. 516). It was rather unnerving to see this action take place where a general who kept snatching defeat from the jaws of victory could countermand the orders of more efficient officers (pp. 541, 545).
Thinking of Bragg, I was very amused at the unidentified newspaper which printed upon learning that General Bragg was ordered to Wilmington: “We understand that General Bragg is ordered to Wilmington. Good-by, Wilmington.” (p. 584) One other particularly interesting observation was Longstreet’s description of a meeting with Lincoln about amnesty. Lincoln told the general that neither Jefferson Davis, General Lee, or himself would ever get amnesty. Even when Longstreet quoted Jesus’ words about the one being forgiven the most loving the most, Lincoln was adamant (p. 634). The book took me a long time to read. It was a lot to take in and required a bit of map study and correlation with other sources. But it is probably the most valuable book on the War Between the States/War to Preserve the Union that I’ve read. I’m very thankful someone preserved this.