War: A Commentary

Over the last year, many of these blog entries have addressed the looming spectre of a casino on the outskirts of the sacred fields of Gettysburg. During that time, some who supported such a venture questioned the meaning of these grounds. Responses frequently discussed the soldiers' sacrifices and their impact on our future while rightfully underscoring our duty to honor the dead of our country. In focusing on such, we often avoid the issue of war itself for without war, without the colossal spilling of blood on these fields, few would view Gettysburg with such reverence.

A Small Section of Arlington National Cemetery
Throughout our history, witnesses to sanguinary struggles often expressed their desire that the conflict they experienced emerge as the last of its kind. Few would question these sentiments. During the American Civil War, casualty numbers eclipsed anything the nation had previously suffered. Single battles left dead and wounded in greater numbers than those produced by multiple combinations of previous wars. However, after sectional hostilities ended, the United States would continue their war with the Indians in a quest to control the lands between the Mississippi and the Pacific Ocean. In the 1880s, a collection of Union and Confederate soldiers would volunteer to fight with a new wave of soldiers in the Spanish American War. With the birth of a new century, as Civil War veterans became fewer in number and the memory of their struggle faded, the United States would join the war to end all wars.

World War I, the Great War, produced devastation on a scale that, in comparison, relegated the American Civil War to a mere skirmish. Estimates for World War I vary but consistently range between 8 and 9 million deaths with a staggering overall casualty list of 30 to 35 million. In the summer and fall of 1916, the Battle of the Somme, which degenerated into a bloody struggle of attrition, would contribute over one million casualties to the angel of death's ghastly harvest. Civilian deaths added perhaps another 6 million or more to the war's grim total.

As the world suffered through the aftermath of World War I taking stock in what they had lost, the seeds of an even greater conflict already threatened germination. A few short decades later, the soul of humanity would cry out in sustained agony as over 60 million soldiers and civilians would lose their lives during World War II. At the end of the millennium, estimates for all wars conducted in the 20th century would range from between 170 and 216 million deaths worldwide.

Holocaust & Andersonville Camp Survivors
The Second World War will forever be linked with the atrocities of the holocaust. The temptation exists to view this immense tragedy as an event which, if remembered, will not occur again. But when viewing the skeletal forms of those who suffered through the years of Nazi persecution, one is reminded of the similarly emaciated forms of Civil War soldiers who emerged from our own prisoner of war camps. Motivations and intentions differed but this did not change the cruelty and suffering experienced by the individual prisoners.

In late July, 1861, as the press disseminated the casualty figures for the Battle of Manassas / Bull Run, many responded with horror that the conflict had killed over one thousand men in a single day. Less than one year later, Shiloh’s 23,000 casualties, with over 3,000 dead, would induce some to label General Grant a "Butcher" as Americans struggled to reconcile the costs of this expanding war. Antietam, Fredericksburg, Stones River, Chancellorsville, and then Gettysburg would bring new levels of horror as the countless lifeless forms laying on precious American soil exploded in number. Gettysburg’s 50,000 casualties with nearly 10,000 dead continued to shape how the populace viewed war. The shock after Bull Run had long since faded into a very distant memory.

The Overland Campaign of 1864 would numb the senses as the number of dead and wounded continued their ascent from the previous year. General Grant would lose 60,000 men between the Battles of the Wilderness and the initiation of the Siege of Petersburg. That dreadful count closely matched the total number of men General Robert E. Lee commanded when the campaign began. General Lee would likewise see some 30,000 of his men fall. Despite the sorrow that enveloped much of 19th century America, these terrible numbers served only as an omen of the conflagration yet to come.

The Dead of Cold Harbor
War is fraught with contradictions. General Stonewall Jackson, one of the south’s fiercest warriors, would offer in a letter to his wife, "People who are anxious to bring on war don't know what they are bargaining for; they don't see all the horrors that must accompany such an event." General Grant, although acknowledging the advantages of war, also stated in his memoirs, "But this war was a fearful lesson, and should teach us the necessity of avoiding wars in the future." Just a few paragraphs later however, he would also state, "We must conclude, therefore, that wars are not always evils unmixed with some good." After the war, General Sherman, whose forces devastated vast regions of the south, would offer to a gathering of Michigan students, "There is many a boy here today who looks on war as all glory, but, boys, it is all hell."

Confederate cavalry commander Nathan Bedford Forrest, vilified by some with accusations of a ferocious lust for blood, would offer to his defeated countrymen, "Civil war, such as you have just passed through, naturally engenders feelings of animosity, hatred and revenge. It is our duty to divest ourselves of all such feelings, and, so far as it is in our power to do so, to cultivate feelings toward those with whom we have so long contested, and heretofore so widely but honestly differed. Whatever your responsibilities may be to government, to society or to individuals, meet them like men." Of course, perhaps the most famous quote along these lines came from General Lee at Fredericksburg, site of an overwhelming Confederate victory. "It is well that war is so terrible, lest we grow too fond of it."

Few could advocate successfully for the general desirability of war. Yet a similarly small number could discount its necessity as long as men pursue power on a vast scale at the expense of the lives and liberties of others. Perhaps the despair expressed at the loss of 3,000 US soldiers in the current Iraqi war serves as an encouraging indication that we have learned from experience. Regardless of the degree of support or disagreement with the current administration’s policies, as a nation, we express sadness at the loss of each life while supporting the soldiers who at this very moment risk death or dismemberment while we read this article.

We must preserve the relics and reminders of our history so that such lessons do not surrender to forgetfulness or indifference. Our Civil War battlefields must survive the pervasive threat of the developer’s shovel so that current and future generations can remember the lessons so painfully learned at the cost of so much of our ancestors’ blood.

Without the perspective of history, we cannot fully understand the context of today’s public affairs. Lacking both, we cannot act to the better good and will remain captive within the same prison of ignorance, violence, and retribution. With several thousand years of history, the human race, taking stock in all of the lessons learned, should prove capable of finding practical solutions to most interpersonal and international conflicts. Perhaps then and only then, will we yield to the better angels of our nature and end the slaughter of millions.

Sincerely,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com

All original material Copyright © 2005-2007. All Rights Reserved

Sources:
Project Gutenberg - Grant's memoirs
National Park Service
BBC: The Somme: Hell on earth
Wikipedia
A Path Divided
The Quote Database
Century, Bloody Century
Wars and Conflicts
AMG Publishers

Commentary: Our Capacity for Gallantry and Brutality

When I first created this blog, I announced my intention to fill these pages with responses to e-mails and questions that arose both from my postings here and from my primary website, brotherswar.com. Having strayed somewhat from that purpose, a recent reader has politely brought me back to center. He wrote, " I am intrigued by what you said in this blog: "Gettysburg is a good thing. It’s a symbol of what we were and could yet again become, in both a negative and positive aspect." Would you mind elaborating on that thought? I'd love to understand your perspective on the relation to Gettysburg and our future."

So many thoughts swirled in anticipation of answering this question that I struggled mightily with how to organize them. I did not know where to begin. Familiar sayings such as "Those who ignore the lessons of history are bound to repeat them" came to mind. While such wisdom resonates, (surely we cannot understand how we arrived here without studying from whence we came) even this thought seemed to trivialize the essence of Gettysburg. While considering the competing ideas contending for the privilege of defining this place, something continuously drew me back to the hallowed ground where ten thousand died and many more suffered wounds.

First and foremost, Gettysburg is a place where events occurred the depth of which I cannot fathom. A tremendous number of ordinary Americans, over 160,000, collided on these now peaceful fields. Most of these men knew intimately the horrors of war. They withstood the incomprehensible slaughter at Antietam, Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville. The veterans of such conflicts saw men mowed down, thousands killed in what seemed mere moments. If not harmed themselves, certainly many tended to the grievously wounded or aided with burying the ever-growing number of dead. Still, with these images fresh in their minds, on the farms and fields of Gettysburg they again shouldered muskets and faced the enemy. On Cemetery Ridge, along the low stone row, men in blue gazed across the mile wide stretch of gently rolling fields, knowing what was to come. Standing now on the same ground, envisioning the long gray lines moving irresistibly in their direction, one cannot avoid wondering what drove men to risk never again seeing their wives, children, parents, and friends. By braving a hailstorm of deadly lead and exploding iron, they offered to forever sacrifice their hopes, dreams, and futures.

While the grisly depictions of battle ring familiar, how many dare to truly consider what these men faced? Most soldiers had seen first hand the devastation wrought by artillery rounds moving at over 1,000 feet per second. Solid shot continues through any man it hits. No mercy. No second chance. What just one ball touches, it shatters. As one soldier aptly stated, "The truth is, when bullets are whacking against tree trunks and solid shot are cracking skulls like eggshells, the consuming passion in the breast of the average man is to get out of the way." Shell and case shot, iron projectiles filled with gunpowder and iron balls, exploded in the ranks when burning fuses touched the powder inside or when percussion caps slammed violently into the ground. Iron flew in all directions, mangling anything in its path. When oncoming soldiers closed to within range, canister replaced long-range ammunition. Small iron balls packed in tin cans converted lines of cannon into a formidable array of massive shotguns. Soldiers described rows of men simply vanishing when a cannoneer unleashed canister, leaving only a faint red mist to drift away in the grim foul air of the now christened battlefield.

When considering Pickett’s Charge from the Southern point of view, if the men in gray survived the hell of the artillery fire, several thousand muskets leveled at the advancing line awaited only a target. An ounce of lead fired from a rifled musket shattered bones and tore flesh. Soldiers wounded by shot, shell, or ball that had first hit a man in their front at times needed to have pieces of that person removed from their own wounds. The soldiers with both Lee's and Meade’s army knew this, and yet they marched forward.

As the Confederates advanced, the waiting Union soldiers knew they faced perhaps the largest most successful army on the planet. Prior to the Civil War, the entire United States Army counted only about 16,000 soldiers in its ranks. Lee’s army would number about 75,000 with some 12,500 marching towards them in several lines, muskets loaded, eyes forward. In one year, Lee’s soldiers won victories on the Peninsula, Manassas, Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville. Still the Federals held their ground, determined to fight.

The question "why" frequently echoes in my head as I wonder about these men and ask how similar in capacity might we prove ourselves if in like circumstances. The soldiers of both armies came from the people of the land, laborers, farmers, professionals, lawyers, teachers, printers, writers, politicians, professional soldiers, landowners, and immigrants. They had families and futures. If for just a moment you could look into their eyes, grip their hands, you would see a person, no different from the people of any era including ours. The crude pictures and period clothes make distancing ourselves from them both simple and at times convenient. Yet still we ask, could we have braved the fatal fire? Would we have killed on such a horrific scale? Would we prove capable of the same gallantry, bravery, and brutality?

Looking past the horror of the battlefield, we easily find other possible parallels to our own time. The men of the army suspected treachery in the government. They missed home. Political parties created smear campaigns, spinning stories and using the media to attack their opponents. The country had massive war debt. The President sacrificed civil liberties on the altar of national security and victory in war. Common people came together to support the soldiers, even if they disapproved of the war. People of all quarters sacrificed. Riots erupted to protest perceived unfair treatment. In these instances, we know of our capacity to do the same.

Along with these issues, there remain countless relevant questions when considering the Civil War. What does it take for one human to consider enslaving another? Why would someone risk dismemberment or gruesome death to keep someone else’s slave in chains or likewise to shatter those shackles and set them free? How did this one massive battle with its 50,000 casualties impact the rest of the war and the country? How did the families cope with such overwhelming loss and sorrow? How did the war change our country? How did we overcome the intense animosity between the north and south, black and white, immigrant and citizen, republican and democrat? Did this war give birth to a strong centralized federal government? If so, what did we gain and what did we lose? How did we cope with the suspension of civil rights? How did we resolve the problems stemming from the tremendous war debt? What lessons could we learn from reconstruction? How did Lincoln benefit from assembling a cabinet comprised of members of both political parties, three of whom had run against him for President? Without the ability to study our history, we cannot answer these questions and apply the knowledge gained to current similar situations. In short, we could not learn from our past and would most certainly repeat the same mistakes while trying to gain what others had already achieved.

Despite the obvious benefits from pursuing these issues, several questions continue rise above the others. How could these men repeatedly face death? Do we all have the same capacity for such bravery? Likewise, how could men, who would typically never have considered such acts, riot, ransack, and plunder? Again, do we all have a similar capacity? Do we have within us what they had?

My quest to understand the American Civil War began serendipitously when by sheer good fortune I found and read the book Killer Angels. Within days I drove several hours to see Gettysburg and the fields where such unbelievable deeds transpired. I walked slowly onto the field of Pickett’s Charge and stood breathlessly looking out over the mile wide stretch of ground traversed by thousands, and defended by thousands more. Without the battlefield to inspire, without the firsthand opportunity to learn and ponder, not only would I not have the opportunity to seek the answers, I likely would not have asked the questions. If we do not learn from what our ancestors have done, for better or worse, we will make many of their mistakes again much to the detriment of the people with us today as well as those yet to come.

"Forget the past, and the future may now allow us time to repeat it. History is never antiquated, because humanity is always fundamentally the same." - Walter Rauschenbusch

Sincerely,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com

All original material Copyright © 2006. All Rights Reserved

Commentary: Were We the Good Guys?

Some months past, while walking eagerly towards the Gettysburg Battlefield Visitor’s Center, I noticed a mother with her young daughter approaching me in the opposite direction. The little one, walking with a child's carefree light step, turned to her mother and asked innocently, "Mommy, were we the good guys or the bad guys." Clasping her hand, the smiling Mom announced proudly to her daughter, "We were the good guys." Although an unfortunately common sentiment, I have struggled to accept its complete accuracy for some time. Reconciling the notion that one group of people possessed an overall higher degree of morality remains a difficult task. Few would debate the despicable evil of slavery. Yet I could not easily accept the contention that, in a country with a similar heritage, history, and people, the entire collection of persons in one section had emerged so morally different from all of those in the other.

Long before the bloodiest war in US history turned against the Confederacy, the seceding states eagerly identified the institution of slavery as the primary justification for seeking to form their own country. Although many after the war touted the banner of states rights, the Southern states own initial brazened pronouncements declared otherwise. On December 20, 1860, South Carolina opted for the long threatened secession, severing her ties with the Union to which she had belonged since 1788. In the coming months, ten other Southern states would follow in her rebellious footsteps. Upon her separation from the United States, South Carolina’s delegates spoke of the initial negotiations when first entering the Union over 70 years earlier. " The Constitution of the United States, in its fourth Article, provides as follows: "No person held to service or labor in one State, under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor, but shall be delivered up, on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due." This stipulation was so material to the compact, that without it that compact would not have been made."

A few weeks after, Mississippi followed her Southern sister’s lead stating emphatically, "Our position is thoroughly identified with the institution of slavery-- the greatest material interest of the world." Days later, Georgia added her voice as she also left the old Union for the new. Georgian representatives would throw a few more logs on the secessionist bonfire, accusing the new Republican Party of treachery. "The prohibition of slavery in the Territories, hostility to it everywhere, the equality of the black and white races, disregard of all constitutional guarantees in its favor, were boldly proclaimed by its leaders and applauded by its followers."

Despite initially arguing for maintaining the now fragile Union, in his famous Cornerstone speech, Confederate Vice-President Andrew Stephens offered, "The new (Confederate) constitution has put at rest, forever, all the agitating questions relating to our peculiar institution -- African slavery as it exists amongst us -- the proper status of the negro in our form of civilization. This was the immediate cause of the late rupture and present revolution…its (our new government) cornerstone rests upon the great truth, that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery -- subordination to the superior race -- is his natural and normal condition…"

These statements seem damning enough. Yet, more must exist of this issue than the obvious failings of some on one side of this conflict.

In "The Negro’s Civil War", James McPherson notes that in the early 1860s, there existed those who specifically sought disunion and separation from the slave states. A country divided would absolve the Federal Government and private citizens from their legal obligation to assist in the recapture of runaway slaves. The North would become safe ground, eliminating the necessity of extending the journey for freedom to the region north of the United States’ upper border. Slaves successfully crossing onto free soil could then safely settle in the northern states.

Others apparently did not gaze fondly upon the idea of the North as a safe haven for former slaves. In the 1850s, some Northern states established Personal Liberty Laws in response to the Fugitive Slave Act to impede the re-capture and return of runaways to slavery. Others however passed legislation now known collectively as "Black Laws" which hindered or eliminated blacks' ability to move into their states. Although established prior to the 1850s, Ohio’s version of the Black Law stated ominously, "Be it enacted by the General Assembly of the State of Ohio, that from and after the first day of June next, no black or mulatto person shall be permitted to settle or reside in this state, unless he or she shall first produce a fair certificate from some court within the United States, of his or her actual freedom." In the early 1850s, Illinois, Iowa, and Indiana barred immigration of black persons into their states. Indiana’s Constitution, adopted in 1851, declared explicitly, "No negro or mulatto shall come into or settle in the State, after the adoption of this Constitution." The Illinois Historic Preservation Association notes that in 1853, their state deemed illegal the act of bringing "…a free Negro into the state."

In 1860, when South Carolina began the cascade of states seceding from the Union, some feared the beginning of a black exodus to the safe grounds of the North. Several states made known their displeasure with that possibility. In January of 1861, Pennsylvania said, "…That the people of Pennsylvania, entertain and desire to cherish the most fraternal sentiments for their brethren of other States, and are ready now, as they have ever been, to co-operate in all measures needful for their welfare, security and happiness, under the Constitution which makes us one people. That while they cannot surrender their love of liberty inherited from the founders of their State, sealed with the blood of the Revolution, and witnessed in the history of their legislation, and while they claim the observance of all their rights under the Constitution, they nevertheless maintain now, as they have ever done, the Constitutional rights of the people of the slaveholding States, to the uninterrupted enjoyment of their own domestic institutions."

Ohio added in their resolution, "…That the people of Ohio are inflexibly opposed to intermeddling with the internal affairs and domestic relations of the other States of the Union; in the same manner and to the same extent as they are opposed to any interference by the people of other States with their domestic concerns.". They continued, "…That it is incumbent upon any States having enactments on their statute books, conflicting with or rendering less efficient the Constitution or laws of the United States, to repeal them…". This seems a likely reference to the Personal Liberty Laws intended to counteract the Fugitive Slave Act.

New Jersey would declare, "…be it resolved, that the resolutions and propositions submitted to the Senate of the United States by the Hon. John J. Crittenden of Ky., for the compromise of the questions in dispute between the people of the Northern and of the Southern States, or any other constitutional method that will permanently settle the question of slavery, will be acceptable to the people of the State of New Jersey, and the Senators and Representatives in Congress from New Jersey be requested and earnestly alleged to support those resolutions and propositions. The first article of the Crittenden Compromise stated, "Slavery would be prohibited in all territory of the United States "now held, or hereafter acquired," north of latitude 36 degrees 30 minutes. In territory south of this line, slavery was "hereby recognized" and could not be interfered with by Congress. Further, property in slaves was to be "protected by all the departments of the territorial government during its continuance." States would be admitted to the Union from any territory with or without slavery as their constitutions provided."

New Jersey would also reference repealing the Personal Liberty Laws. "…And be it resolved, That such of the States as have in force laws which interfere with the constitutional rights of citizens of the other States, either in regard to their persons or property, or which militate against, the just construction of that part of the constitution that provides that "the citizens of each State shall be entitled to all the privileges and immunities of citizens in the several States," are earnestly urged and requested, for the sake of peace and the Union, to repeal all such laws."

In an address to the Confederate Congress, President Davis spoke of part of the process by which the North had earlier abolished slavery. "The climate and soil of the Northern States soon proved unpropitious to the continuance of slave labor, whilst the converse was the case at the South. Under the unrestricted free intercourse between the two sections, the Northern States consulted their own interests by selling their slaves to the South and prohibiting slavery within their limits." So while some strove to free their states of slavery, the slaves did not necessarily find themselves free. A percentage of former Northern Masters sold their now outlawed slaves into continued bondage in the Southern States.

Several states protested the Emancipation Proclamation which may have contributed to a northern migration. Individuals did likewise. Horatio Seymour, Governor of New York, famously stated that he would do all he could to preserve the Union but blasted the Emancipation Proclamation. Others encouraged colonization, the emigration of black persons to lands outside of the United States, as a fair solution to the "Negro Question" of what to do with freed slaves. The Library of Congress summarized, "During the 1850s, the (American Colonization) society also received several thousand dollars from the New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Missouri, and Maryland legislatures." Clearly, although many in the Northern States desired to see their individual regions free from the stain of slavery, some wished that the new birth of freedom would occur elsewhere.

Countless Northerners fought with unparalleled bravely to advance the cause of peace and save the Union that we now call home. Others worked tirelessly towards the noble end of complete and total abolition of the institution of slavery. Yet because of the above, for a little while longer, I will continue to struggle with blanket questions asking, "Who were the good guys?"

Respectfully,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com

All original material Copyright © 2006. All Rights Reserved

********************
Sources:

Causes of the Civil War
South Carolina Historical Documents
CivilWarHistory.com: Northern Black Laws
Tulane University: The Crittenden Compromise
Indiana Historical Bureau: Indiana Constitution of 1851
Illinois Historic Preservation Agency: African American Timeline
Library of Congress: An African-American Mosaic

Commentary: A Southern Victory at Gettysburg

A gentleman from England who had a short time ago toured the Battlefields at Gettysburg sent me a question. It read in part, “Our guide on the tour gave us a talk on the build up to the civil war and talked about what might have happened. Simply put he pointed out that if the confederates had won at Gettysburg they might have forced Lincoln to sue for peace and there would have been two Americas, USA AND CSA. Supposing that had happened. How do the think these two countries would have developed. I have heard the point of view that they would have inevitably drifted back together again. Others say that in a way the war is still going on and therefore they would have stayed apart.”

Honestly, I find the answering of "what if" questions difficult primarily because I do not believe anyone can provide an adequate answer. To attempt such, one must decide which of the infinite number of factors which had contributed to the original outcome would remain constant and which would change in an expected or defined manner. Millennia of efforts have failed to develop a reliable strategy for predicting the actions of one person over short periods of time in somewhat controlled situations. How much more complicated then would we find the task of predicting the outcome of events with an entire country at war?

The danger with choosing the factors on which to focus stems in part from the temptation to selectively emphasize those that, even subtly, support preconceived views and biases. Even when assuming some measure of objectivity, too many questions vie for priority on the list of considerations to permit accurate forecasting. First, if you accept the necessity of a Southern victory at the Battle of Gettysburg to winning Southern independence, a point debatable on its own, the question remains whether or not it would have proven sufficient. Yet even with this somewhat basic question, the pitfalls emerge. I find unrealistic the assumption that casualty figures would have remained the same if the outcome of the Battle of Gettysburg differed. After General Robert E. Lee took command of the Army of Northern Virginia, he had several major strategic victories where he took the offensive. However, the Southern casualty figures tended to be higher in either number or percentage than the Federals with each costly success. The Sevens Days and Chancellorsville, where he repeatedly assumed the aggressive, serve as prime examples.

More questions emerge. Would a victory at Gettysburg then have allowed for a sufficient number of Southern commanders remaining to permit the Confederate government to successfully prosecute the war? Such hypotheticals proposed prior to the Battle of Chancellorsville would doubtfully have included the possibility of General Thomas J. Jackson's death. Likewise, when considering similar questions for Gettysburg, how many would include in the discussion the possible death of James Longstreet, JEB Stuart, or even General Lee as they followed up their success?

If Lee had won at Gettysburg, would Longstreet's detachment have gone on to support General Braxton Bragg and contribute to the Confederate victory at Chickamauga or would Lee have decided that he needed Old Pete to follow up his recent success? If Longstreet remained with the Army of Northern Virginia and Union General William S. Rosecranz at least did not suffer defeat at Chickamauga, would the following siege at Chattanooga have occurred? If not, would the lack of an opportunity for Ulysses S. Grant to raze the siege have meant that President Lincoln would not have opted to elevated him to General in Chief? Would Lincoln have moved Grant north to confront Lee without this promotion? Would William T. Sherman still have waged his lethal March to the Sea if instead General Rosecranz moved into Georgia after a Union victory or even a stalemate at Chickamauga?

If the Confederates had won at Gettysburg, would European powers have intervened or had the Union’s narrow victory at Antietam significantly diminished that likelihood? Would the Union victory at Vicksburg, and perhaps Chickamauga if Longstreet was not with Braxton Bragg, have held England and France at bay?

With a Union loss at Gettysburg, would the possible cries for General George B. McClellan have returned him again to the Eastern Theater and if so, would he have then still run for president in 1864? If not, would the Democratic party have chosen another candidate who could have more clearly defined a unified Democratic platform? If so, could that person have defeated Lincoln especially given the potential decline in Northern morale with a loss at Gettysburg?

If the south appeared on the verge of winning, would other northern states have seceded and formed their own Union as some had threatened? With a Southern victory, would foreign powers have invested in a devastated Confederacy allowing the necessary degree of reconstruction for an expeditious re-birth? Would the Northern businesses have again eagerly imported Southern cotton, reviving the devastated economy while rekindling the need for slave labor? Would the south have moved on to conquer or purchase Cuba and other land south of the existing borders in order to perpetuate slavery? Would they have then clashed again with the North for the remaining territories to continue to acquire land with a cotton friendly climate?

If Lincoln won re-election despite the hypothesized Southern successes, would John Wilkes Booth have played the role of assassin? If not, what would the impact of a still determined Lincoln have had on the war effort?

Then we consider the question of black Americans, both freed and still in bondage. They certainly would not have become passive actors in this postulated play. Even if the Confederates emerged from the conflict victorious, would enough white men have survived the war to sustain the institution of slavery? University of Virginia Professor Dr. Gary Gallagher has argued that the relationship between slave and master changed significantly as the war progressed due to the absence of white men to manage the plantations. Would those slaves who remained in bondage but assumed greater degrees of authority have acquiesced to the loss of their new found power, limited as it was? What actions would the veteran United States Colored Troops, over 100,000 strong, have taken after their mustering out of the Army should the South have won?

Obviously, this could continue indefinitely but would serve no useful purpose except to perhaps continue to evade drawing hypothetical conclusions. Those offered would draw critical responses based on those factors on which the critic chose to focus. Debate still rages about the impact of specific tactical decisions made or not made during the battle itself. Given the lack of agreement on events of a much smaller scale, the potential results of a Confederate victory during the Battle of Gettysburg will likely continue to elude us all.

Sincerely,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com

All original material Copyright © 2006. All Rights Reserved

The Value of Men

During the last 140 years, countless persons have found themselves consumed with a passion for the Late Unpleasantness, the American Civil War. Stemming from questions such as “Why did this happen“ and “What made them do this” they read, listened, and walked the fields in search of answers. They enthusiastically sought understanding of what led men to fight this catastrophic war and to die in such incomprehensible numbers.

With a conflict of this scale, we could not, if we would, examine each death. We focus not on any one individual, but frequently opt instead for the more ghastly descriptions of death and the vast endless lists of casualties. The tragic, spectacular deaths and those of key participants predictably hold our attention. With the sacrifice of so many, we tend to overlook the simple, single loss of one.

In a nation of near 300 million, how do we define the relevance of the death of a single nameless man? When we discuss the preservation of Battlefields, the furnaces within which millions violently forged our nation, each argument includes the obligatory justifying statistics concerning the number sacrificed on the locations and grounds in question. But what of the parcels of land which claimed only a pittance, only one or two mortals now entirely forgotten?

In those places where our soil lays saturated with blood, where thousands of souls seeped from torn and battered flesh, we rightfully offer the proper reverence. Yet by such a singular focus, do we then deem as inconsequential the place where mother earth cradles the life’s blood of but a single man? While larger battlefields welcome millions of visitors annually, the small timeworn grave of the Civil War veteran in the hometown cemetery frequently goes unnoticed and unattended, their final resting place deteriorating further with each neglectful day.

Had we the ability to speak with them, the suffocating, enveloping sorrow of the soldier’s widow, orphaned children, or grieving parents would cry out in emphatic protest. Given a moment, we could to some degree understand their loss. Along our nation's highways, many erect small memorials to those they loved where fate stole a precious life from the ones left behind. Anonymous to most, these many small shrines mark ground of unquestionable meaning to those whose love will now go unreturned and whose regrets will remain painfully unassuaged. Now irrevocably gone from this life, they will never be seen, held, kissed, spoken with, or relied upon again. So too became the lot of many a young soldier.

With reverent determination, we hold sacred the fields of Gettysburg, Antietam, Vicksburg, Chickamauga, Chancellorsville, Shiloh and all others dyed by the blood of so many. These grounds welcome continuous streams of the curious and reflective. Yet by our inattention elsewhere, do we risk trivializing that one death, the solitary picket whose life spirit ebbed as he sank down onto the unmarked ground he did his duty to defend? Do we honor any less the soldier who marched, fought, and endured, only to join the tens of thousands who died a decidedly inglorious death from dysentery, cholera, or tuberculosis away from the now memorialized battlefields? How much less then do we hold dear the life of the unknown wounded soldier unable to drag himself into the open where aid instead of death might find him? So too, their families suffered as they went on with souls forever burdened by a hardened emptiness. When the soldier’s suffering and life passed, his agony rushed forward to claim as victim the many who would mourn his and their mutual loss. When his pain ended, theirs began. Over two thirds of the six-hundred and twenty-thousand men who died during this war perished not on the glorious field of battle but in inadequate medical facilities, tents, fields, yards, barns, and other nondescript places so very far from home.

And what of the men seared by the fire of battle who survived the war? How many more strode into battle on determined legs, with strong arms and a clear eye only to have lead or iron tear from them a portion of their formerly whole selves? Sanitized words like "wounded" or "casualty" hide the grim torment of the shattered soldier. Musket balls, round shot, shards of artillery, and bayonets tore through flesh and shattered the bones of men who then fell onto the bloody agonizing ground. Most did so on fields now no longer known as the places of their suffering.

How do we rightfully honor these men consumed by the horrors of war away from the grounds and monuments so treasured? We remember them, each of them. We hold sacred the lives and memories of all who perished, North and South, that our nation might live. We honor those whose blood nourished the growth of the young nation that became the country that we now call home. We mourn their loss, honor their courage, and protect their legacy.

But what is the worth of just one man, perhaps not of my blood, state, race, or time? On the day that we waiver in answering this question, we begin the perilous slide towards becoming once again a nation that would sacrifice hundreds of thousands to decide the rights and value of men.

Respectfully,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com.

All original material Copyright © 2006. All Rights Reserved

The One “Real” Hero of Gettysburg

Early this morning, I received a curious e-mail from a very pleasant visitor which, in part, read as follows:

“I just read the book “The Killer Angels” for my US History class and it was great! My teacher asked us a question in class the other day:

According to historians, who is the real Union hero at Gettysburg?

I’ve done a lot of research and have not found a concise answer. My personal feeling, based on the book, is that it’s Chamberlain. When I asked my teacher if it was Chamberlain, he said no. He said it’s someone that I wouldn’t expect - someone from the first day in battle.”

Needless to say, I found myself befuddled that historians as a whole had allegedly agreed upon the identity of the one true or “Real” Hero of Gettysburg. My mind scanned familiar and lesser known names seeking the possible identity of this singularly exceptional individual. The teacher’s words hinted that this one true hero, as agreed upon by historians, would prove to have been present July 1st but would not be an entirely obvious choice. The guardian of this valued tidbit of 19th Century trivia tactfully added that, although he wasn’t present July 1st, the mantle of real hero would not rest on Colonel Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. Conveniently ignoring the impression that few historians seem to hold consensus on much of anything, and instead of attempting to discern the mysterious person’s name, I wanted to consider the list of undeserving men these clues would necessarily eliminate.

The noted qualifications immediately exclude Union Major General Winfield Scott Hancock from contention. Although present on Day 1, he certainly would not pass as “someone that I wouldn’t expect”. General Hancock would, at the behest of General George Gordon Meade, take command of the field towards the end of July 1st, 1863, notwithstanding the presence of an officer of greater seniority and despite currently heading only a division which had not yet reached the town. That evening he would write to Meade “General: When I arrived here an hour since, I found that our troops had given up the front of Gettysburg and the town. We have now taken up a position in the cemetery….The battle is quiet now. I think we will be all right until night. I have sent all the trains back. When night comes it can be told better what had best be done. I think we can retire; if not, we can fight here, as the ground appears not unfavorable with good troops.”


General Winfield Scott Hancock Monument
Cemetery Hill, Gettysburg, PA
On July 2nd, after General Sickle’s grievous wounding, Meade would again direct General Hancock to assume command of both his and the crumbling 3rd Corps. Among other acts that day, the ubiquitous Hancock would separately send the 1st Minnesota and Colonel George Willard's Brigade into the fray at the expense of countless brave men to maintain the center of the Union lines. On Day 3, Hancock's 2nd Corps would play the primary role in repulsing the Confederates’ grand charge. While actively moving along the northern lines, he would suffer a painful thigh wound which would plague him until his death several decades later.

The details given eliminate Union Generals Buford and Reynolds from consideration as “Real” heroes since again, they might be “expected” to reside on the list of deserving contenders. Brigadier General John Buford’s defense in depth and the fighting of his cavalry as infantry to delay the Rebel advance would not qualify him for real hero status. Major General John Fulton Reynolds, commander of the left wing of the venerable Army of the Potomac would not pass the heroism test, despite assuming the responsibility for committing his Corps to stopping the Confederate advance and surrendering his life to preserve the opportunity for eventual Union possession of the crucial heights south of town. Before the deadly bullet struck, General Reynolds would commit to General Meade “…we will hold the heights to the south of the town” adding “I will barricade the streets of the town if necessary.” Possession of this high ground combined with tremendous northern sacrifice would two days hence win the field for the men in blue.

By the parameters given, the stalwart soldiers of the Iron Brigade could not bear the label “real heroes”, despite sacrificing 1,153 of 1,885 (61%) men defending the Federals' claim to the high ground. During their later withdrawal, in the midst of a leaden hailstorm, these men of iron would repeatedly, stubbornly reform their lines to contest the Confederate advance. Wounds and death served as the immediate reward most often received for the performing of their duties.

The 147th New York Infantry, who fought just to the north of the Midwesterners, would also be excluded despite remaining alone on the field in a brutal slugfest with several Confederate regiments of Brigadier General Joseph R. Davis’ Brigade. Believing they had no orders to retreat, the New Yorkers continued to stand firm even after all other Union troops on that section withdrew to safer ground. Union Brigadier General Lysander Culter would report “The loss of this gallant regiment was fearful at this point, being officers 2 killed and 10 wounded, 42 men killed and 153 wounded--207 out of 380 men and officers within half an hour.”

The men of the 6th Wisconsin, the 95th New York, and the 14th Brooklyn would apparently qualify as also-rans despite their sacrifice as they charged the Butternuts sheltered in the Railroad Cut. In Steven W. Sears excellent book simply entitled “Gettysburg” he relates what Colonel Rufus Dawes, commanding the 6th Wisconsin, wrote to his fiancée concerning their “victory” at the Cut. “Our bravest and best are cold in the ground or suffering on beds of anguish. One young man, Corporal James Kelley of Company B, shot through the breast came staggering up to me before he fell and, opening his shirt, to show the wound said, Colonel, won't you write to my folks that I died a soldier?"


Little Round Top, Gettysburg, PA
Since the real hero had to have been present on Day 1, this would also immediately disqualify Colonels Joshua L. Chamberlain, Strong Vincent, and Patrick O’Rorke, General Stephen Weed and Lieutenant Charles Hazlett. All but Colonel Chamberlain died on these grounds as they fought to preserve their fragile hold on Little Round Top, the far left of the entire Union line. Colonels Vincent and O'Rorke would fall leading their men in battle. Lieutenant Hazlett would receive his death blow as he bent over to hear the words of his dying friend, General Stephen Weed.

None of the Union’s decimated 3rd Corps would be so honored, nor would any of the Brigades who battered themselves against tenacious Confederate attackers coming to their defense. Colonel Cross’ brigade, the Irish Brigade, and those of General Zook, and Colonel Brooke would allegedly not qualify as real Gettysburg heroes.

The men of the 1st Minnesota who obeyed General Hancock’s desperate, near suicidal order to advance against an entire Southern brigade, seemingly do not qualify. Despite this slight in awarding heroic status, Lieutenant Lochren of Minnesota’s 1st Regiment would report sadly but with pride, “What Hancock had given us to do was done thoroughly. The regiment had stopped the enemy, held back its mighty force, and saved the position, and probably that battle-field. But at what a sacrifice! Nearly every officer was dead, or lay weltering with bloody wounds--our gallant colonel and every field-officer among them. Of the two hundred and sixty-two men who made the charge, two hundred and fifteen lay upon the field, struck down by Rebel bullets; forty-seven men were still in line, and not a man was missing.”

Colonel Willard’s men, who blunted the devastating onslaught of General William Barksdale’s Mississippians, would find themselves blacklisted despite the comments of their division commander. Brigadier General Alexander Hayes later would say, “The history of this brigade’s operations is written in blood...The loss of this brigade amounts to one-half the casualties in the division.” Just as his men achieved success, part of Colonel Willard’s head would be torn off by a Confederate shell as he strove to lead his men forward.

Brigadier General George Sears Greene could not serve as the ever elusive real hero. While commanding a line of men stretched precariously thin, he ordered them to build substantial earthworks and defend Culp's Hill to the last. His foresight and bold generalship allowed his 1,500 men, the only remaining on a hill held just hours before by the Union 12th Corps, to fend off repeated assaults from an entire Confederate Division some 4 times their number. But, since one might anticipate his candidacy, he would not fit the guidelines supplied.


69th Pennsylvania Monument, Gettysburg, PA
The rules set by the equally anonymous teacher would preclude from contention Generals Alexander Web, John Gibbon, and Alexander Hayes, each of whom displayed active, effective generalship during the repulse of Pickett’s Charge. The Ohioans and Vermonters, who flanked each end of the Confederate assault wreaking havoc on the unprotected Southerners, do not qualify. The men of the 69th New York, their ranks decimated as the offensive progressed while they dutifully held their ground at the swirling vortex of the leaden storm, do not qualify.

Since, by definition, only one “real” hero of Gettysburg exists, and since this paragon wore a uniform of blue, this would bar from consideration any of the butternuts contending from the other side of the field. None of the 23,000 to 28,000 killed, wounded, and missing apparently deserve status above that of “Gettysburg casualties”.

CSA Lieutenant General Longstreet, General Lee’s senior Corp commander and most trusted subordinate, would then find himself on the list of those excluded, despite the thoughts of Brigadier General James Kemper, a brigade commander in Pickett’s Division. He would later state of Longstreet’s conduct during the violent cannonade on July 3rd, “Longstreet rode slowly and alone immediately in front of our entire line. He sat his large charger with a magnificent grace and composure I never before beheld. His bearing was to me the grandest moral spectacle of the war. I expected to see him fall every instant. Still he moved on, slowly and majestically, with an inspiring confidence, composure, self-possession and repressed power in every movement and look that fascinated me."

Even General Robert Edward Lee would apparently prove lacking in spite of his leadership on Day 3. A British military observer, Lieutenant Colonel Arthur Freemantle of Her Majesty’s Coldstream Guards, walked the Confederate lines as Pickett’s Charge advanced and ultimately failed. Watching General Lee move among the shattered remnants of the once formidable command, he would offer, "If Longstreet’s conduct was admirable, that of Lee was perfectly sublime. He was engaged in rallying and in encouraging the broken troops and was riding about a little in front of the wood, quite alone, the whole of his staff being engaged in a similar manner farther to the rear. His face, which was always placid and cheerful, did no show signs of the slightest disappointment, care, or annoyance; and he was addressing to every soldier he met a few words of encouragement, such as: ‘All this will come right in the end; we’ll talk it over afterwards; but in the meantime, all good men must rally. We want all good and true men just now,’ etc. He spoke to all the wounded men that passed him, and the slightly wounded he exhorted to ‘bind up their hurts and take up a musket’ in this emergency. Very few failed to answer his appeal, and I saw many badly wounded men take off their hats and cheer him.

I saw General Wilcox come up to him, and explain, almost crying, the state of his brigade. General Lee immediately shook hands with him and said cheerfully, 'Never mind, General, all this has been my fault. It is I that have lost this fight, and you must help me out of it in the best way you can.' In this manner I saw General Lee encourage and reanimate his dispirited troops and magnanimously take upon his own shoulders the whole weight of the repulse."

And so the list could continue of those perhaps deserving of a better fate than relegation to the status of mock heroism. Yet after this somewhat cathartic writing, the hope remains that this unknown teacher had in actuality posed a misleading question to encourage reflection concerning the qualities of heroism. Perhaps also he intended to lend understanding of the potential impact and limitations of one person’s actions in such great and tragic events. Certainly, in the quest for those who behaved heroically, the three days at Gettysburg provided countless examples and candidates.


A Union & Confederate Veteran at the 1913 Gettysburg Reunion
(Courtesy of the National Park Service)
If I may be so bold as to offer my opinion on this question, to me, along with the men named above and those who would forever sleep on the now sacred bloodstained fields, the greatest heroes of the Battle of Gettysburg will for all eternity remain those who lost fathers, husbands, sons, friends, comrades, limbs, sight, and other capacities only to then reconcile with their former adversaries with an eye towards mending the broken and bleeding country. A stroll along the Seminary Ridge wood line near where Pickett’s men weathered the cannonade reveals an example of this magnanimity noted on a National Park Service interpretive marker.

The placard notes that, from the cover of the woods along Seminary Ridge, Confederate Lieutenant Thomas C. Holland of the 28th Virginia waited with the men of his regiment. He and the soldiers of the 28th would endure the tremendous cannonade and then weather the swirling storm of iron and lead to cross the open fields and face their enemy. During the eventual determined surge of Pickett's Charge, a bullet slammed into Lieutenant Holland's face exiting through the back of his head.

Of the 88 men of the 28th Virginia to begin the charge, Lieutenant Holland found himself among the 81 noted casualties. Despite his grave wounding, he miraculously survived both the battle and the war. Half a century later, during one of Gettysburg’s Grand Reunions, on those same fields, he faced the Union soldier who had shot him. This time, as each beheld the other, they extended their now weaponless hands in mutual respect and friendship.

Sincerely,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com.

All original material Copyright © 2005. All Rights Reserved

******************
References for this article:

1. NPS: Voices of Battle
   
2. Home of the American Civil War: Buford’s Defense
   
3. Wikipedia: The Iron Brigade
   
4. eHistory: Official Records of the Rebellion
   
5. The Longstreet Chronicles
   
6. NPS: The Courage to Face Consequences
   
7. Gettysburg. Stephen W. Sears, Houghton Mifflin, 2003
   
8. The Generals of Gettysburg: The Leaders of America's Greatest Battle. Larry Tagg, DaCapo Press; July 1998
   

Apocryphal History

After posting the article "The Heart of a Soldier", I received comments properly cautioning a certain wariness concerning Sallie Pickett’s writings suggesting that they lack a certain degree of historical accuracy. Perhaps this is so. Several of the Late Unpleasantness’ most visible participants have had such accusations levied towards them. Certainly, Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain and John Brown Gordon reside high on the ledger of those so charged.


Notably, despite their storied accomplishments, neither man entered the conflict as a professional soldier yet neither failed to meet the colossal challenges which lay in wait. Both would suffer grievous wounds expected to prove mortal. Both would return to again lead their men.

John B. Gordon would suffer first at Antietam in what to most has become a familiar story. As the then Colonel Gordon commanded the 6th Alabama along the northern end of the Bloody Lane, he swore to General Lee that “These men are going to stay here, General, till the sun goes down or victory is won.” Later as minnie balls swarmed like angry hornets, Colonel Gordon, who had escaped injury in previous engagements, found himself walking his lines with blood flowing from where three bullets had found him.

The Georgian would later describe, “A fourth ball ripped through my shoulder, leaving its base and a wad of clothing in its track. I could still stand and walk, although the shocks and loss of blood had left but little of my normal strength. I remembered the pledge to the commander that we would stay there till the battle ended or night came. I looked at the sun. It moved very slowly; in fact, it seemed to stand still…I had gone but a short distance when I was shot down by a fifth ball, which struck me squarely in the face, and passed out, barely missing the jugular vein.”

Gordon was far from the only soldier to face such a grim fate in that Bloody Lane. As one soldier would later describe, “In this road there lay so many dead rebels that there formed a line which one might have walked on as far as I could see, many of whom had been killed by the most horrible wounds of shot and shell and they lay just as they had been killed apparently amid the blood which was soaking the earth.”

Colonel and later Major General Chamberlain would suffer likewise in a war that shattered the lives of so many formerly whole and vigorous men. Wounded in several prior engagements, his most threatening would come during the war’s 3rd year. On June 18, 1864, outside of Petersburg Virginia, a Confederate bullet tore through both of Chamberlain’s hips breaking his pelvis, severing arteries, and nicking his bladder. Expected to die as would most at the time with such wounds, he recovered to lead his men once again, suffering an additional wound in the process.

Understanding why and how these men faced then escaped death’s indifferent grasp only to willingly re-enter the same arena remains an integral part of the study of this time in our history. To pursue these questions, we inevitably search for insight within the text of the participants' own words. In doing so, we recognizing the factors that impact objectivity while attaching equal importance to the question of why each wrote what they did. We pursue the motivations these men possessed which allowed them to both endure and achieve and then choose how to recall and record their experiences. The same certainly applies to Sallie Pickett who suffered during this war in her own right. Along with enduring the daily perils and uncertainties of war, her husband, Major General George Pickett would become famous not from glorious victories but from the disastrous assault at Gettysburg which would ever after bare his name. The Southern General would also suffer strained relations with General Robert E. Lee, a potentially insupportable impiety.

The question becomes then why Sallie wrote what she did, seeking her reasons within the context of her times. Instead then of banishing her writings from the canon of our shared history, Sallie’s writings serve as an integral part of that history offering a window into the motives and actions that formed the nation in which we live today. If in part she pursued the elevation of her husband's wartime image, we can ask why she focused on the perceptions of Northerners as opposed to his Southern brethren. The previous article noted Sallie Pickett’s underscoring of his friendship with Lincoln, certainly a nod to the victors as opposed to the vanquished in this great and bloody conflict. Labeling her intentions as wholly self-serving perhaps approaches the truth but likely ignores other no less explanatory motives.

While answering the above, we note that these men and women were not substantially different than those of today. Ordinary people throughout the centuries have risen to great heights to commit deeds of valor and courage. Some too exerted their energies for motives far less worthy of admiration and praise. Understanding that we possess the same potential for greatness while harboring the same for narcissistic self-serving provides one of the great benefits of the study of our both glorious and sometimes shameful past. Learning from these lessons to better our future proves far nobler still.

Sincerely,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com.

All original material Copyright © 2005. All Rights Reserved

******************
References for this article:

1. Documenting the South
   
2. e-history: Ohio State University
   

Manhood

During the winter of 1862-63, the Corbin family offered Confederate Lieutenant General Thomas J. Jackson the hospitality of Moss Neck Manor, their magnificent home along the Rappahannock River in Eastern Virginia. Perhaps the most feared Southern warrior, Jackson's formidable reputation had spread throughout the fiercely divided nation. In the spring of 1862, he had mystified Northern Generals in the Shenandoah Valley, crushing all forces unfortunate enough to make his acquaintance. He pushed his men to the brink of exhaustion and beyond while severely dealing with even mild infractions of discipline. Old Jack became the General who could change the fate of the young nation. Yet during his time at Moss Neck, he spent much time with six year old Janie, one of the Corbin's young daughters. As a staff officer would note, “Her pretty face and winsome ways were so charming that he requested her mother that she might visit him every afternoon, when the day’s labours were over. He had always some little treat in store for her—an orange or an apple—but one afternoon he found that his supply of good things was exhausted. Glancing round the room his eye fell on a new uniform cap, ornamented with a gold band. Taking his knife, he ripped off the braid, and fastened it among the curls of his little playfellow.”

When the spring campaigning season slipped away from winter's cold grasp, Jackson returned to the field leaving his little friend behind. Janie would not see her famous playmate again, but not because of his accidental wounding at Chancellorsville. Little Janie would die that spring of an illness 19th century medicine could neither prevent nor cure. When the General learned of the sad news, the stern warrior's heart shattered and he wept openly with some reporting that he fell to his knees in prayer. However, none interpreted the fearsome General's emotional display at the death of a child as a sign of potential weakness. This man who had to maintain razor sharp focus on the battlefield regardless of the human devastation enveloping him, cried at the loss of a little girl.

At some point in my education, I recall a professor discussing the genesis of the perceived lack of emotional expression in men, especially those throughout our country's founding days. This purveyor of psychosocial wisdom offered that, due to the many hardships encountered, men by necessity had to bury their feelings in order to set a steely example for the family. This no-nonsense pragmatic approach to a life fraught with danger would ensure the family's survival, or so the explanation continued, by concentrating only on the essentials of existence. Without grand, romantic sentimentality, the inevitable disasters and tragedies would neither overwhelm the intensely focused father nor distract him from providing for those depending upon his labors. The head of the household needed to be hard as nails, ready to fight the animals, hostiles, diseases or elements that may threaten his household. This attitude, this way of being, would allow the young family and the nation within which they lived to survive.

Certainly, the people of the 19th century placed value on the ability to endure hardship without complaint. General Ulysses S. Grant implied as much in his memoirs when discussing General Lee's surrender. Grant recalled, "What General Lee's feelings were I do not know. As he was a man of much dignity, with an impassible face, it was impossible to say whether he felt inwardly glad that the end had finally come, or felt sad over the result, and was too manly to show it. Whatever his feelings, they were entirely concealed from my observation…"

One southern diarist, Mary Polk Branch, documented a Southern Colonel's account of the death of her uncle, Confederate General Leonidas Polk. Colonel Hopkins, a member of the General's staff, wrote admirably of the stoic passing. "In an instant I was at his side, but, alas! too late, for at that very instant a solid shot was tearing its murderous way, with a hissing sound, through his chest, carrying his heart, and shattering both his arms. Without a groan his great manly form, so full of honor and of love, tottered and fell, with his feet to the foe, and his face upturned to the sky above."

Despite the chasmal prejudicial divides during this era, even race proved insufficient to consistently temper admiration when considering manly virtues. Ohio Governor Samuel J. Kirkwood spoke with high honor of the US Colored Troops at the Battle of Milliken's Bend. "I thought that by the help of these blacks the enemy had been prevented from boasting a victory for rebel arms, and I thanked God that they had the manliness and the bravery to come forward and help us. I thought it made little difference whether men were white or black or what color they were. Let men be pea green or sky blue, or any other color under the heavens, if they have the manliness and the courage to come up and fight for the old flag, I am ready to say Godspeed to them."

A Union private offered a glimpse into his view of masculinity when discussing how wounded soldiers typically responded to their fate. "The enlisted men were exceedingly accurate judges of the probable result which would ensue from any wound they saw. They had seen hundreds of soldiers wounded, and they had noticed that certain wounds always resulted in death. After the shock of discovery had passed, they generally braced themselves and died in a manly manner." Manhood meant a lack of self-pity or unnecessary emotional expression.

The alleged denial of such expression and attention to duty allowed the man to focus on the crucial tasks at hand without distraction, or so the theory went. His status, his needs, became secondary to those depending upon his works. Some 19th century accounts seemed to support this contention. Another diarist, Mrs. Burton Harrison, wrote of Private Randolph Fairfax, her 18-year-old cousin, and his death at the Battle of Fredericksburg. She lamented, "This youth, handsome and gifted, serious and purposeful beyond his years, the flower of his school and college, in all things worthy the traditions of his warlike ancestry, was killed by a piece of shell entering the brain, as he stood by his gun at sunset under a hot fire from the enemy's batteries." General Robert E. Lee would later write to Private Randolph's father, "I have grieved most deeply at the death of your noble son. I have watched his conduct from the commencement of the war and have pointed with pride to the patriotism, self-denial and manliness of character he has exhibited." Both emphasize the sacrifice and forbearance that contributed in their eyes to the essence of manhood.

The early American male also had to be ready to fight when necessary to protect his family, community, and honor, allegedly further burying any thought of egocentric self-expression or emotional gratification. Soldiers respected this willingness to face peril and fight, even when present in their adversaries. Colonel Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain wrote with admiration of his Alabamian protagonists at Gettysburg, "Ranks were broken; some retired before us somewhat hastily; some threw their muskets to the ground- even loaded; sunk on their knees, threw up their hands calling out, 'We surrender. Don't kill us!' As if we wanted to do that! We kill only to resist killing. And these were manly men, whom we could befriend and by no means kill, if they came our way in peace and good will." If deemed not sufficiently manly, the male would resist fighting, lest he strain his sense of honor. Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest's well-documented insubordinate altercation with General Braxton Bragg displays this clearly. "I have stood your meanness as long as I intend to. You have played the part of a damned scoundrel, and are a coward, and if you were any part of a man I would slap your jaws and force you to resent it."

Overcoming hardship to prosper indicated the finest attributes of manhood. Frederick Douglas would honor his martyred President with such sentiment. At the dedication of the Freedman's Memorial, he would offer to the crowd gathered, "Born and reared among the lowly, a stranger to wealth and luxury, compelled to grapple single-handed with the flintiest hardships of life, from tender youth to sturdy manhood, he grew strong in the manly and heroic qualities demanded by the great mission to which he was called by the votes of his countrymen. The hard condition of his early life, which would have depressed and broken down weaker men, only gave greater life, vigor, and buoyancy to the heroic spirit of Abraham Lincoln. He was ready for any kind and any quality of work. What other young men dreaded in the shape of toil, he took hold of with the utmost cheerfulness."

Although these incidents include only a minute portion of those occurring during the war, they provide some support to the contention that men needed to suppress emotion to overcome challenges and survive. Those successful at obtaining this emotional void, earned the respect of others, thus reinforcing the ideal. Based on the above, perhaps the original thesis may prove true. However, these same battle-hardened men who provided examples to support this presumption likewise furnished similar instances that both contradict and inspire. The men of this age did not hesitate to express emotion. Love, affection, sadness, and a host of other emotional outpourings flowed as comfortably as the harder, more familiar sentiments already noted.

Perhaps the most well know examples include the letters men wrote to their wives. Major Sullivan Ballou, in preparation for the coming Battle of First Manassas, wrote an emotionally gripping letter just days before he died. Opening his heart to his beloved wife, the Major offered, "Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready.…But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours -- always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by."

In a letter to the woman he dearly loved, Confederate Major General George E. Pickett would speak of his fervent desire that she become his wedded wife. "Now, my darling, may angels guide my pen and help me to write—help me to voice this longing desire of my heart and intercede for me with you for a speedy fulfillment of your promise to be my wife. As you know, it is imperative that I should remain at my post and absolutely impossible for me to come for you. So you will have to come to me. Will you, dear? Will you come? Can't your beautiful eyes see beyond the mist of my eagerness and anxiety that in the bewilderment of my worship—worshiping, as I do, one so divinely right, and feeling that my love is returned - how hard it is for me to ask you to overlook old-time customs, remembering only that you are to be a soldier's wife? A week, a day, an hour as your husband would engulf in its great joy all my past woes and ameliorate all future fears. So, my Sally, don't let's wait; send me a line back by Jackerie saying you will come. Come at once, my darling, into this valley of the shadow of uncertainty, and make certain the comfort that if I should fall I shall fall as your husband. You know that I love you with a devotion that absorbs all else—a devotion so divine that when in dreams I see you it is as something too pure and sacred for mortal touch."

And yet, such sentiments did not pass only between man and wife or those wishing to be. After the war, Robert E. Lee wrote to his old war-horse, James Longstreet about the latter's business ventures. In this letter, he did not hide his feelings concerning his old friend. "If you become as good a merchant as you were a soldier, I shall be content. No one will then excel you, and no one can wish you more success and more happiness than I. My interest and affection for you will never cease, and my prayers are always offered for your prosperity."

The expression of emotion towards old comrades occurred in other settings as well. Also after the war, George Pickett would have his former officers to his home for breakfast before they left for their own families in other parts of the battle-scarred country. His wife Sally wrote of their sad goodbyes. "He gave his staff a farewell breakfast at our home. They did not once refer to the past, but each wore a blue strip tied like a sash around his waist. It was the old headquarters' flag, which they had saved from the surrender and torn into strips, that each might keep one in sad memory. After breakfast he went to the door, and from a white rose-bush which his mother had planted cut a bud for each. He put one in my hair and pinned one to the coat of each of his officers. Then for the first time the tears came, and the men who had been closer than brothers for four fearful years, clasped hands in silence and parted."

A few years earlier, on the fateful day that George Pickett's name would burn into historical immortality, the General spoke to his fiancee of his commander's heart-wrenching decision to send men forward in what would become the heroic tragedy of Pickett's Charge. "While he was yet speaking a note was brought to me from Alexander. After reading it I handed it to him, asking if I should obey and go forward. He looked at me for a moment, then held out his hand. Presently, clasping his other hand over mine without speaking he bowed his head upon his breast. I shall never forget the look in his face nor the clasp of his hand when I said: - "Then, General, I shall lead my Division on." I had ridden only a few paces when I remembered your letter and (forgive me) thoughtlessly scribbled in a corner of the envelope, "If Old Peter's nod means death then good-by and God bless you, little one," turned back and asked the dear old chief if he would be good enough to mail it for me. As he took your letter from me, my darling, I saw tears glistening on his cheeks and beard. The stern old war-horse, God bless him, was weeping for his men and, I know, praying too that this cup might pass from them. I obeyed the silent assent of his bowed head, an assent given against his own convictions, - given in anguish and with reluctance."

So it was then that the men of our earlier years did not reside in the silent chasms of emotional void. No surprise then stems from what occurred when General Stonewall Jackson met his own storied end, surrounded by his closest friends. The Reverend James Power Smith, formerly Captain Smith of Jackson's Corps, would describe the last minutes. "And here, against our hopes, notwithstanding the skill and care of wise and watchful surgeons, attended day and night by wife and friends, amid the prayers and tears of all the Southern land, thinking not of himself, but of the cause he loved, and for the troops who had followed him so well and given him so great a name, our chief sank, day by day, with symptoms of pneumonia and some pains of pleurisy, until, 3:15 P.M. on the quiet of the Sabbath afternoon, May 10th, 1863, he raised himself from his bed, saying, " No, no, let us pass over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees"; and, falling again to his pillow, he passed away, over the river, where, in a land where warfare is not known or feared, he rests forever 'under the trees." As Jackson's now widowed wife would later note, "Tears were shed over that dying bed by strong men who were unused to weep."

Sincerely,

Randy

Please visit my primary site at www.brotherswar.com.

All original material Copyright © 2005. All Rights Reserved

******************
References for this article:

1. The Project Gutenberg: Stonewall Jackson and The American Civil War
   
2. The United States National Park Service: The Story of the Battle of Gettysburg
   
3. History 101: Oration in Memory of Abraham Lincoln
   
4. Bartleby.com: Personal Memoirs of U.S. Grant
   
5. The Forrest Preserve
   
6. University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill: Documenting the American South
   
7. Spartacus Educational: The American Civil War
   
8. African Americans and the Civil War
   

Taking the hard right instead of the easy wrong.

Having never served in the military, I cannot approach understanding how it feels to withstand enemy fire or to order others into harms way. Perhaps because of this, I struggle with the concept of "Moral Courage" as applied to military figures in American Civil War literature.

With the mention of 19th century moral courage, Abraham Lincoln easily comes to mind. His desire towards war's end to "let 'em up easy" certainly contradicted the fate many wished for the defeated Rebels. Had he lived, proposing this stance risked his own political harm as he sought to better the future of the Southerners in his care.

General Robert E. Lee's choice to serve Virginia and sacrifice the status and reputation gained through decades of United States military service certainly qualifies, doing so to avoid the prospect of taking arms against his own family. The opposite approach, taken by Major General George H. Thomas, a Virginian who chose Union but lost his Southern family, fits too. Confederate General Patrick Cleburne's proposal to free and arm slaves, the first from a major Confederate commander, also applies. General Lee's choice to surrender his command at Appomattox and seek peace, thus avoiding the brutality of guerrilla warfare, certainly deserves its place on the list as well.

Other examples include Colonels Strong Vincent and Patrick O'Rorke at Gettysburg, who risked possible court martial when they opted to defend Little Round Top without approval from their immediate superiors. Both paid with their lives. Saying "Damn your orders", Lieutenant Stephen F. Brown of the 13th Vermont, defied his commander and filled canteens of water for his parched men as they marched the hot, dusty roads towards Gettysburg. For his defiance, he was put in arrest. On varying scales, these are instances of such courage.

Other examples are less clear. Do Lieutenant General James Longstreet's protests against Lee's plans at Gettysburg fit? If not, perhaps his generalship once the fighting began on Day 2 was such an example. Putting aside his own objections, he did his duty.

What about Sherman's March to the Sea? Would the label of moral courage have been applied had his tactics been used against Northern cities? Had a Southern commander replicated Sherman's ruthlessly efficiency, Northerners who viewed Uncle Billy as heroic would now have demanded retribution.

The absence of moral courage allegedly contributed to Union Major General George B. McClellan's failings at Antietam. On the single bloodiest day of the war, critics state that McClellan lacked the moral courage to commit even more men to potentially end the war. Having the courage then, the explanation goes, may have avoided the long lists of casualties which necessarily stem from prolonged conflicts. His opposite in determination and temperament, General Ulysses S. Grant allegedly had the requisite degree of moral courage to pursue necessary ends. Grant's supporters valued his willingness to take the responsibility of ordering others to into harms way for a cause bigger than any one soldier. Sometimes described as butchery, his single-mindedness contributed immeasurably to the formation of the Union as it continues to exist today. Slavery, which may have died a slower more lingering death, would have continued with millions more paying the price. Instead of these millions, thousands bought their freedom with human currency, committed to this effort by those with the courage to do so.

Lincoln and Lee may provide the most accepted and comfortable examples of moral courage because of the ease with which many agree with the sentiments behind their actions. Federals and Confederates alike can respect them in spite of their divided loyalties. Debatably fewer accept Grant's and Sherman's actions. But that may perhaps say more about our own discomfort with accepting the gift of the re-United States which we know to have been purchased at such a high and bloody price. Yet how many who argue that the cost was too high would today have the moral courage to consider returning this gift already given?

Respectfully,

Randy

All original material Copyright © 2005. All Rights Reserved