@panzade,
Hey . . . no problem. I highly recommend
R. E. Lee and
Lee's Lieutenants. However, they should be red with a bowl of grainy salt close to hand. For example, compare
Chancellorsville, by Theodore Ayrault Dodge (the great American military historian of the late 19th, early 20th century--he was there for the battle; i also recommend his
A Bird's Eye View of our Civil War for the best short history).
It's all very interesting. In the 1920's, when he was still just a lowly and unknown journalist, Douglas Southall Freeman wrote a very sharp critique of the military performance of the Confederacy. His two most salient points were condemnation of the area defense policy, and the strategic defensive/operational-tactical offensive policy. The latter policy is thoroughly dissected and condemned by two historians from (i think) the University of Alabama, in a book entitled
Attack and Die, published about 1980.
The basic problem was the romantic attitude toward militarism in the South, and the apparent belief that they would win, or at least not lose, because they were militarily superior to the North. Therefore, they remained within their own territory, foolishly attempted to defend all of their territory. For example, a brigade of ab0ut 2500 men from Florida joined the Army of Northern Virginia, and less than a year later, they arrived at Gettysburg with scarcely more than half that number surviving. Meanwhile, 15,000 or more state militia and volunteers defended a state which the Yankees had no interest in. The first shots of the war were fired in Pensacola (January, 1861), and the Federal commander there retired to Fort Pickens in the harbor, after destroying the military supplies on the mainland that he could not remove. The United States Navy showed up, and thereafter, there was no further reason to do anything in Florida. One small expedition tried, half-heartedly, to invade the state, and were turned away. For the rest of the war, the Florida boys sat around slapping each other on the back, and eating up free rations.
Operationally and tactically, though, the boys would attack the Yankees just about everywhere they met them. This was extremely foolish, as the attacker suffers the most casualties, especially with what were then modern weapons. So, for example, in the Seven Days Battle, Lee (who did just about no staff work) attempted to trap Fitz John Porter's "Grand Division" (roughly a third of McClellan's army) north of the Chickahominy River. Because no staff work had been done, and because Lee was loathe to publicly criticize his commanders, Jackson was not lead properly on his approach march, and did not take part in the first day's battle. At the same time, Alvin Powell "Little Powell" Hill attacked at Mechanicsburg, even though he was not to have launched his attack until he had heard Jackson's guns. Lee did not interfere. He once told a foreign observer (it might have been Freemantle, but i'm not sure of that) that he planned the operation, lead the army to the chosen site of the battle, and then let his officers fight it. He told the man that when he had brought his army into contact with the enemy, he believed that he had done the whole of his duty.
Jackson spent most of the second day wandering around, because the guide who had been sent to him took him to New Cold Harbor, and not Old Cold Harbor, as was intended. The man was sent on his mission without written orders, and even got in an argument with Jackson when the latter realized that they were marching
away from the sound of the guns.
In the absence of Jackson's intended flank attack, Porter's boys inflicted a horrible slaughter on the Southerners at Beaver Dam Creek. Porter had been begging McClellan to let him pull out ever since rains had swollen the Chicahominy River, which separated him from the rest of the army. He was actually in the process of leaving his position when the Confederates began their week of attacks. Essentially, he fought a series of rear-guard actions. As long as he was north of the river, he was vulnerable, but the near complete lack of coordination in Lee's army meant that he could post a strong rear guard, and hurry the rest of his troops on the retreat. Jackson finally caught up to the rest of the Army, after Porter had inflicted another horrible slaughter on them at Gaines Mill, before the arrival of the Army of the Valley to launch a sundown attack which drove the Federals off--but Porter was keeping his trains in front of his troops, and the Confederates were continually attacking nothing more than a strong rear guard who were punishing them severely for it.
Lee launched Huger, "Prince John" Magruder and Longstreet at the flank of McClellan's support line for Porter at the battle of Savage Station, but the attacks were sent in piecemeal, and Magruder shied from the attack (or so Longstreet claimed--either way, Magruder's career was effectively over), so that another completely useless slaughter took place. Meanwhile, Jackson, now moving with the rest of the army, participated in another slaughter at Glendale. Lee and company continually congratulated themselves on driving the enemy off, but they were suffering higher casualties than the Yankees, which they could ill afford in either the short of the long term.
Porter had two topographical engineers from the Coast and Geodetic Survey with him (the ancestor of today's NOAA), and they found fords for his army which his artillery and trains used to cross White Oak Swamp, without bridging the stream, and carried out in the middle of the night. Jackson arrived the following morning, and wasted the day bridging White Oak Swamp, while Porter's rear guard artillery played hell with them. Lee and his "staff" were entirely ignorant of the fords the two civilian engineers had found for Porter the night before.
By now, Porter had escaped, and all of the casualties which Lee's army had suffered were basically useless. But that was not the end. The Yankees set up more than a hundred artillery pieces on a low hill, Malvern Hill, and put infantry in field fortifications in front of them. Lee had one more go at the Yankees, and as Daniel Harvey Hill remarked, it wasn't a battle, it was just wholesale murder. Confederate artillery batteries would unlimber, open up, and be blown to bits in five or ten minutes. The infantry were mowed down like wheat before the scythe.
But Lee was a hero. He had vigorously and relentlessly attacked the enemy, and he had "driven them off." That's what the people of the South wanted to see, and he gave it to them in spades.
Lincoln constantly said he needed to find a man who understood the numbers. Lincoln didn't care if you won, as long as you attacked the Confederates relentlessly, because they could not support a war of attrition. He may have interfered too often, but when he got Grant--no kind of battlefield commander, but someone who understood the numbers--he let him have a free hand.
Freeman must have seen the light, or been tipped wise by someone that his thesis was not consonant with the great "lost cause" version of the Civil War which was so popular in the South, that many of its basic (and false) tenets have been accepted as the majority view of popular Civil War history. Freeman's
R. E. Lee is superb scholarship, and it also completely ignores the basic suicidal nature of Southern operational policy. Those two boys who wrote
Attack and Die fudged a lot of the numbers, but even if you correct their errors, the math is plain. The Confederates were killing themselves faster than they were killing Yankees, and they could not afford that.