snood wrote:Leaving that flag aside is progress, IMO.
I agree. However, note that the car is still called "the General Lee." When i was a child, Lee's birthday was a public holiday--at least, it was a day off school. Lee was certainly one of the best campaigners the USMA at West Point ever produced (and one of their highest academic performers).
At the same time, i think he failed his trust. He knew that the South could not defend every inch of its territory, and the attempt to do so tied up tens of thousands of badly needed troops. Before the battle of Shiloh, he advised Albert Sidney Johnston to strip the Gulf Coast of defensive troops in order to build up an army big enough to challenge Grant. Yet, even when he had reached the height of his popularity and influence, he did not make an issue of the failure of the Confederate States government to concentrate its resources, human and material, and assure they could stay in the fight. His biggest failure, however, was his profligate waste of lives. In the Seven Days, his object was to "bag" Fitz John Porter and his "wing" of the Federal army. By the end of the first day, the Confederates had paid a horrible price, and had not driven Porter from his position. They needed to trap him before he could cross the Chickahominy River. That paralyzed McClellan and the rest of the army, who could not retreat to the south while Porter was held north of the River. But he failed, and at Mechanicsville and Boatswains Swamp(aka Beaver Dam Creek), the Southerners shed rivers of blood, and failed to move Porters troops. At Gaines Mills, their continued attacks cost them horribly--and while inflicting heavy casualties on the Federals, they failed to prevent Porter from retreating across the Chickahominy. Thereafter, there was no hope of bagging Porter, or of punishing McClellan's army. McClellan was a fool, and was retreating with twice the force (before the battle, the odds were, roughly, 110,000 Federals versus 55,000 Confederates [claims that the Confederates had 80,000 ignore that Lee had to leave men behind in the Richmond trenches]--but Lee still attacked repeated). Every battle after Porter managed to get over the Chickahominy was a waste of his troops--Savage Station (badly bungled by the division commanders), Glendale (badly bungled by Lee) were a waste, and accomplished little, when the object was to drive off an army which was already retreating. But the worst of all was Malvern Hill, where more than 5000 Confederates were shot down in frontal assault against a hill bristling with more than 200 canon--it was an awful slaughter, and it accomplished nothing.
After the second battle of Manassas that summer, he crossed the Potomac with an army much reduced by casualties, and desertions by men who refused to invade the North. He almost fatally divided his army. At Shapsburg, the only thing which saved his army was the stupidity of McClellan, who knew Lee's army was scattered all over western Maryland (he actually had a copy of Lee's full general orders for the army in his possession, which some fool dropped, and two Yankees found wrapped around some cigars), and yet failed to make the coordinated attack. Lee's army, despite reinforcement, and because of desertions was down to 45,000 men. But not all of them were even present at the beginning of the battle. McClellan sent in three attacks, one at a time, and the Confederates beat off one attack, only to be obliged to shift troops to meet the next attack. At one point, Daniel Harvey Hill picked up a musket and lead 300 men in a savage and seemingly suicidal counterattack in the center. But he survived, and the exhausted Federals had shot their bolt. In the afternoon, McClellan sent in the third of his uncoordinated attacks, at the stone bridge (now known as Burnside's Bridge, after the local Federal commander), where the Antietam Creek was too deep to wade. At the height of this attack, the only thing between the Yankees and victory was the artillery position of the Richmond Howitzers, orphan boys in their teens from the orphanages of Richmond. One impressed general commented to their commander: "Your men (yeah, right) stand killing better than any i've seen."--by which he meant that those poor boys tolerated being shot down in appalling numbers. The orphan boys and their artillery were finally forced to retreat, and D. R. Jones who counterattacked, was driven off by the Yankees, the "Cameron Highlanders" from New York. Just at the critical point, the men of Alvin Powell "Little Powell" Hill's Light Division, the largest division in Lee's army arrived after marching all night and all day from Harper's Ferry. The marched west to the ford at Shepherdston, and then back to the east again, and marched straight into the battle. As Wellington said of Waterloo, it was a damned close run thing. Lee barely managed to escape with his army, which had suffered nearly 25% casualties (more than 10,000 killed, wounded and missing out of somewhat less than 45,000 actually enagaged).
After that, Lee's army was too exhausted, to beaten-up, too bled down to attack. McClellan was fired, and Burnside took command of the army. At Fredericksburg, he launced repeated frontal assaults on Lee's position, much as Lee had done at Malvern Hill, but with much worse consequences. Burnside's army suffered nearly 13,000 casualties, while Lee's men suffered on just more than 5000. Most of Lee's casualties came when Jackson's generals, on the southern end of the line, allowed a gap to open in their lines, which George Gordon Meade was able to exploit--that nasty little fire fight accounted for three quarters of the Southern casualties. To the north, Longstreet's First Corps was situated on a command ridge above the town, called Marye's Heights. Longstreet's artillery commander told him: "A chicken cannot live on that field when we open on it." It was very nearly true. With a wide and deep drainage ditch to cross, the Yankees were mowed down before they could form to attack. The Confederates were behind a stone wall in a sunken road. Southerners were standing five deep in the sunken road, and the four lines at the back simply loaded their muskets and passed them forward to the front line which kept up a continuous fire. The Irish Brigade got closer than anyone else--and suffered 50% casualties before breaking and retreating. Lee commented: "It is well that war is so terrible, lest we grow to fond of it." The Yankees launched fifteen or more separate attacks (as at Sharpsburg/Antietam, the lack of coordinated attacks doomed them), and accomplished nothing. They were forced to retreat. Longstreet was very impressed by the result, which would lead to a huge controversy about Gettysburg.
In the spring of 1863, Longstreet was away from the army with two of his four divisions, in southern Virginia. Burnside had been replaced by "Fighting Joe" Hooker, after his disasterous (though bloodless and embarrassing) "Mud March", and Hooker worked hard to build up the army, and was the Civil War equivalent of a "GI General." He introduced the unit patch to instill pride in the men, and allowed prostitutes free access to the men, which they cheered of course, calling the "Hooker's Girls," and eventually, just hookers. Hooker came up with the same sensible plan which Meade proposed and Grant approved in 1864. But Hooker was not Meade, nor much less was he the kind of commander as was Grant. He completely suckered Lee, and crossed the river north of Fredericksburg, and began advancing through "the Wilderness," a tangled forest of scrub brush and stunted trees which spread over hundreds of square miles. He arrived at a major crossroad and large clearing in the middle of the Wilderness, by the house of Melzy Chancellor, and locally known as Chancellorsville. In the woods, all the advantages of a larger army and superior artillery were lost. Some historians claim that Hooker stopped his army at Chancellorsville, on a ridge, because he intended Lee to attack him, and suffer the kind of losses which Burnside had suffered at Fredericksburg. Others claim that Hooker lost his nerve, because he had been promoted past his competence and was sure what to do next. Although i supsect the latter explanation is the correct one, it doesn't really matter. Lee, despite having not just a smaller army, but an army reduced by Longstreet's absence with two (Pickett and Hood) divisions, immediately determined to attack. The divisions of Richard Anderson and Lafayette McLaws attacked repeatedly in the heavy woods and brush, where visibility was badly limited. Although somewhat protected from Yankee artillery, they were attacking men who had dug in and erected earthworks reinforced with logs. Not only were casualties heavy, but small brush fires broke out all along the line, frequently burning the wounded alive as they lay, unable to crawl away from the flames. It was an ugly business.
The rest of the army under Jackson, except for Jubal Early's division left to guard the flank, were now sent on a day-long march around Hooker's army. Anderson and McLaws put up a front of continuing the attack, although their men had little fight left in them. Federal artillery on a hill near Chancellorsville saw Jackon's men marching west, and, incredibly, Hooker decided that meant Lee was retreating (a case of believing what he most wanted to believe), but more incredibly, he decided that meant he did not need to do anything. The two battered divisions of Anderson and McLaws were outnumbered by more than five-to-one, but Hooker did not attack. In the late afternoon, Jackson's boys finally had marched completely around Hooker's army, and were poised on Hooker's right. Scouts could see the Federal troops building cook fires, boiling coffee and slaughtering beeves for their supper. It took the Confederates almost two hours to sort out their troops and form a line in the tangled woods, but near sundown, they attacked. Most of the Federal troops they faced were members of Howard's XIth Corps, and they were facing south, not west. Worst of all, more than two thirds of the Corps were German and Polish immigrants, most of whom spoke no English, and nearly all of whom had never heard a shot fired in anger. The Confederates rolled them like a cheap, thin rug.
Nightfall settled, and in the confusion of the woods, Jackson's men had to stop while their commanders straightened out the line and put their regiments back together. Jackson found a local boy who knew the roads, and he said that there was a little-known road which ran past the Federal flank to United States Mine Ford, the supply point over the river for Hooker's army, and his main line of retreat. Jackson rode out with some staff officers and couriers to scout the road. As he and his party were returning, they rode across the front of the Confederate line. Federal cavalry had been harassing the Southerners from nightfall, and it was now near midnight. Unable to see who it was, but hearing riders, the Confederates opened fire, and Jackson was badly wounded. Having had one arm amputated and with his recovery complicated by pneumonia, he would die three weeks later. "Little Powell" Hill took command of the corps, as senior division commander. He went out to scout his line in the darkness after midnight, and was struck by shrapnel from Federal artillery, which, not knowing what else to do, simply began firing down the road as it was the only open space in which to use their guns. Although not badly wounded, Hill was carried from the field, and convinced his senior division commander to allow the army's cavalry commander, J. E. B. Stuart to take command.
The next day, although Hooker had already given up the fight, and was only concerned to keep the door open for his retreat, Stuart attacked the Yankees. It was a foolish and unnecessary attack, and didn't even succeed in hurrying the retreat, since there was a bottle neck at the fords. After Jackson died, Lee decided to re-orgoranize. He took one of Longstreet's divisions, Anderson, and two divisions of the Second Corps, Heth's and Pender's, and formed a Third Corps which he gave to A. P. Hill. Richard Stoddard Ewell had been Jackson's senior division commander, but had been wounded a year before. As he now returned to the Army, he was given the three divisions left in the Second Corps. Lee now determined to invade the North for a second time, and with Stuart screening Hookers army, he marched for the Potomac. Longstreet, who, you will remember (if you're still reading) had been impressed with the losses Burnside's men had suffered when they attacked the Army of Northern Virginia in a good defensive position. After the war, a controversy was to arise, because Longstreet claimed he had an understanding that in Pennsylvania, they would find a good defensive position, and allow the Yankees to attack, and when the Yankees were exhausted and bled down, the Confederates would counter-attack.
In late June, Lee's army was strung out in a huge arc. Parts of the First Corps, in the rear, were still crossing the Potomac, and the Second Corps, in the advance was marching on York and Harrisburg, far to the Northeast. Hill and the Third Corps were in the middle. On the afternoon of June 30, 1863, they got word that there were Federal troops to the east, near a small and insignificant market town, Gettysburg. Lee determined upon a battle, and told Hill to send out a reconnaissance. Hill passed the order along to Harry Heth, who sent out a brigade, and then, thinking better of it, advanced with his entire division. Near night fall, they ran into a Federal cavalry division commanded by a Southerner from Kentucky, John Buford. There was a lazy fire fight, and Buford withdrew nearer to the town, and Heth's men "slept on their arms," while Heth decided to attack the next day.
Lee didn't know what was in front of him, and rather casually did nothing to interfere with Heth. He had apparently already decided to fight, though, because he sent orders to Ewell to reverse his march and join the army, and sent word to Longstreet to hurry up. He had learned that Hooker had been replaced by Meade (the enterprising commander who had exploited the gap in Jackson's line at Fredericksburg), upon which Lee commented: "I know him. He will make no blunders in my front, and he will not fail to exploit any that i make." It is rather extraordinary what he contemplated in light of that opinion. The next day, July 1, 1863, Heth advanced on Buford. Buford's men were equipped with "repeating" breech-loading carbines, and inflicted heavy casualties on the Southerners. Cavalry was an expensive proposition in those days, so Buford withdrew as soon as he safely could do so, and his casualties were light. By now, Dorsey Pender's divsion was coming up, and A. P. Hill was with him. On the Federal side, John Reynolds (Pennsylvania's favorite son, who had turned down the command of the army after Hooker was fired, after which the command was offered to Meade), was marching north with two of his three divisions (First Corps). His First Brigade, First Division, First Corps was known as the Iron Brigade, because of the heavy casualties they had sustained in their second fight without flinching. They wore the 1854 regulation uniform, which included a tall, black "slouch" hat--so the Southerners just called them "them black hat fellers." Reynolds rode out to look at the position which Buford was evacuating. Advancing Confederate troops fired upon him (he was riding with his orderly, a sergeant, but was otherwise alone), and he was killed outright.
Despite that, Abner Doubleday took command, and General Meredith lead the First Brigade--the Iron Brigade forward--and drove off the Confederate advance, and took several hundred Confederates prisoner by trapping them in a railroad cutting, and capturing their brigade commander. But now, the two brigades of the First Division were the only Federal line. They had to hold, and they did. The Iron Brigade suffered horribly, with more than 60% casualties in the battle--the 24th Michigan suffered 80% casualties. But they held, and marched away when they were relieved. By now, Heth's and Pender's divisions had been fighting since sun-up, had suffered heavy casualties (the attacker almost always suffers heavier casualties), and were disorganized. Coming up behind the First Corps was the Eleventh Corps, those Germans and Poles who had been attacked at Chancellorsville. They advanced beyond Gettysburg to the North (Howard wasn't much of a commander--if he had not been forced to retreat, his Corps could have been taken in flank by Hill's boys). By now, Ewell's Second Corps was arriving from the north, having backtracked to the west, and turned south toward the sound of the guns. Robert Rhodes and Jubal Early showed up with two of the most veteran divisions in Lee's army. Early rolled up Barlow's division of the XIth Corps, foolishly exposed north of town, and that let Rhodes get on the flank of the First Corps, by now exhausted and heavily bled down. They were forced to retreat, but were relieved by Hancock's II Corps. By now, both sides were fought out, and Howard had established a very good position south of the town on Cemetery Hill and the northern end of Cemetery Ridge.
Longstreet's first two divisions--Lafayette McLaws and John Bell Hood--arrived early on the next morning (about 2:00 a.m., i believe), and was thunderstruck to learn that Lee intended to attack (or so he said after 1870, when the war was over and Lee was dead). He fumed and stormed around biting the collective head off his staff, and later in the morning counseled against the attack with Lee (or so he said after 1870, when the war was over and Lee was dead). His claim was that he and Lee had an understanding to await the attack of the Yankees, shatter their line, and then counter-attack. But that was not what Lee had in mind. Longstreet was ordered to attack with the two divisions present, at the southern end of the Federal line. The attacks were very costly, and although successful at first, were ultimately a failure. Diversionary attacks by the Second Corps at the northern end of the line were half-hearted, were not pressed, and did nothing to aid Longstreet. Longstreet took so long to get into position, that Ewell's attacks were already finished. (Many historians claim he was "pouting" and unnecessarily delayed the march, but i don't agree--his men had marched through most of the night, and his staff needed to scout the approach march. As usual, Lee's staff work wasn't poor, it was non-existent. He treated his staff as messengers and pleasant companions.)
By the third day, Lee's army was (as he ought to have seen), pretty well fought out. Nevertheless, he had the division of George Pickett from the First Corps who had only arrived late the previous day. He took what brigades from Hill's Third Corps who could still be expected to fight, and formed a division under James Johnston Pettigrew, Heth's senior brigade commander (Heth had been wounded). Taking brigades from Pender's division (Pender had suffered a wound which was eventually fatal the day before), he formed a division under Isaac Trimble, a white haired old man whose idea of a good time was to rush at the enemy with intent to do bodily harm; Trimble had been wounded a year earlier, and had just returned to the army. With those two divisions on the Pickett's left flank, Lee launched an attack on the Federal army in their position on Cemetery Ridge, which i would say was doomed at the outset. Once again, Ewell's men were to launch a diversionary attack--while very bloody in local fights, it didn't do much to distract the Yankees.
Pickett's charge was a disaster. One of Pettigrew's brigades virtually disappeared as Federal artillery fire shredded it. With them gone, the next brigade on the left, Davis' brigade, was now the target, and suffered very badly until an Ohio regiment launched a surprise attack when the brigade broke and retreated. To the south, Yankees advanced and poured a withering fire into the right flank, into Pickett's brigade commanded by James Kemper. Kemper was wounded and captured, only to be recaptured by the advance of Pickett's division. Too badly wounded to be moved when Lee eventually retreated, he was left behind, and was captured again. All three brigades advanced into the fire of every gun the Yankees could bring to bear. Almost half of Pickett's divison was shot down. The other two brigade commanders, Lewis Armistead and Richard Garnett were also wounded. Garnett got close, and then was enveloped in the smoke from Yankee artillery 20 yards away, and was never seen again, alive or dead. Armistead actually made it into the Federal line, was wounded, and died two days later.
Lee was heard to say: "This is all too bad."--after which he rode among the survivors retreating to the Confederate line saying: "This is all my fault." (At least he took responsibility for his actions.) Pickett is alleged to have looked over at him, saying: "That old man cost me my division." Lee held on for two days, and retreated in a heavy rain on July 5.
Many historians focus on the faults in Lee's exercise in command. I agree with most of what they say, but i would point out that there were two armies there, and the Army of the Potomac fought well, and with tenacious ferocity when most threatened. (C.f. the Iron Brigade on the first day, and the defense of Little Round Top by the brigade of Strong Vincent--Vincent was wounded, and died from wounds five days later, allowing Joshuah Chamberlain of the 20th Maine to claim all the glory for his regiment, and making a career for himself after the war as "the Savior of Gettysburg." Don't believe it--the book
The Killer Angels and therefore the recent motion picture
Gettysburg are based no Chamberlain's version of events, and simply unrealistic. Strong Vincent was dead, and no one told his story. Even Chamberlain's own officers and men became disenchanted after the war, and disputed his version of events.) Nevertheless, the Yankees would have had little chance of shooting down so many Southerners if Lee had not attacked. The battle was a "meeting engagement" meaning the two armies were on the move and collided. Meeting engagements can produce wonderful results for a commander--such as the Duke of Marlborough at Oudenarde in 1708--but you have to win on the first day. It is folly to continue to attack if you don't win the opening day of a meeting engagement, as the enemy can select his position and slaughter the men you send to attack. This is precisely what happened at Gettysburg.
After Gettysburg, Lee was never again in a position to take the fight to the enemy. At Bristoe Station, A. P. Hill launched the last "hell bent for leather" attack of that army in that war, and was ambushed. It is said that even Lee was incensed, and would not listen to Hill, saying: "Bury these poor men, General, and we'll say no more about it." Even Lee had his limits. The only other attacks which his army were to launch in the war were those forced upon them by circumstance in the Wilderness campaign of 1864.
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Lee's behavior in the war was odd, and i would say almost pathalogical. I think that as a life-long career soldier of the United States, the thought of fighting that war slightly unhinged him. He remained faithful to his home state, and took up arms against the Union, but i don't think he was ever happy about that. Early in the war, he had a bad reputation. He was called "Granny Lee" because of the West Virginia campaign, a failure for which he was not entirely responsible, but for which he did not do any staff work, a lesson he did not learn. Throughout the war, his staff did little useful work to carry out his orders. He would issue his orders, and leave it up to his subordinate commanders and their staff members to plan and execute the attacks required by the plan. He told one European observer with his army that he would bring the army to where they should be, and that with that he had done the whole of his duty, and that the outcome was no longer in his hands.
He was obviously appalled by the consequences of the war. He frequently wrote about how terrible war was, his most famous quote on the subject being:
What a cruel thing is war: to separate and destroy families and friends, and mar the purest joys and happiness God has granted us in this world; to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbors, and to devastate the fair face of this beautiful world. Yet he almost never failed to attack, to attack repeatedly and savagely, and to attack long after attacking would do no earthly good: Glendale, Savage Station, Malvern Hill, Chantilly, the last day of Chancellorsville and the last day of Gettysburg were all unnecessary and unproductive attacks which cost his army dearly.
He said both that the war was not about slavery, and that his people had suffered defeat because they had fought to preserve slavery. His attitude to his enemy was very revealing. He never spoke ill of the Northerners, and usually referred to them as "those people over there." When some ladies in Orange Court House tole him that young ladies in the town had gone to the Yankee camp when it was occupied to hear the bands. The commander had been Major General John Sedgwick. Lee said the the young ladies should seek pleasant in innocent pleasure where it could be found, and then said: "I know Major Sedgwick, and he will have nothing but gentlemen around him." Note that he referred to Sedgwick as Major--his rank
before the war. That was not an isolated incident either--at Chancellorsville, Sedgwick attacked Jubal Early, and an army chaplain rode up, almost breathless, to report the attack. Lee soothed him and then replied: "I have just sent General McLaws to call upon Major Sedgwick." He also seems to have seen himself as somehow frozen in his pre-war situation. Look at the photo below:
Note that there are three stars on his collar. In the Confederate service, that is the rank insignia of a Colonel--but Lee was a "full" General, what we would call a "four-star General." Yet he wore the rank insignia of a Colonel--
which is the rank he held in the United States Army before the war. I also believe that he attempted to commit suicide by combat in the Wilderness in 1864 when he attempted to ride to front at the head of the Texas Brigade, until the NCOs grabbed his reins and forced him to the rear.
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After the war, Lee became the President of Washington College--which is today Washington and Lee University. He made some comments about the war, but largely, did not illuminate why he made the decisions that he did. He died in 1870, and immediately after began the hagiography of Robert E. Lee, largely sponsored at first by Jubal Early. As time has passed, his mantle of "sainthood" has just grown. In many respects, his letters over the course of his life show him to be, apart from obsessed with being a perfect gentleman, a very humble man. I doubt that he would have enjoyed the thought that he would be treated as a saint.
I'm fairly certain that he would have been unimpressed with the idea of having a car in a low-rent television series named after him.
