Lee's Lieutenants

by Douglas Southall Freeman

  In accordance with the custom of the day, it seemed proper that he say farewell to his child. Jackson recognized her at once. The baby smiled back and did not seem in any way frightened. Through the fog of morphia and weakness he played with her and called her endearing names until he sank back into the unconscious. When next he aroused, Sandie Pendleton was standing by his bed. The presence of the young soldier brought Jackson back for an instant to a world of camps and sinning soldiers. “Who is preaching at headquarters today?” he asked, and was gratified when told that Lacy was. Still more was Jackson pleased when Sandie told him the whole army was praying for him. “Thank God,” he murmured, “they are very kind….” Presently he spoke again. “It is the Lord’s Day…. My wish is fulfilled. I have always desired to die on Sunday”45

  Sandie went out to weep and not to weep alone. Everyone was in tears. The faithful Jim was overwhelmed. Dr. McGuire thought he should stimulate Jackson with some brandy. Jackson shook his head. “I want to preserve my mind, if possible, to the last.” Once more he slipped back into the land of far and near. He murmured again, gave orders, sat at mess with his staff, was back in Lexington with his little family, was fighting, was praying.

  More there was in the same mutter—Hill, Hawks, orders to the infantry—and then a long, long silence. Now … the clock striking three, the spring sunshine in the room, the rustle of new leaves in the breeze, peace and the end of a Sabbath Day’s journey. Fifteen minutes more; breathing now was in the very throat; and then from the bed, clearly, quietly, cheerfully, “Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.”46

  CHAPTER 24

  Renewal and Reorganization

  1

  “HAVE NO FEAR WE SHALL NOT BEAT THEM!”

  A wail went up everywhere in the South. From the time the first news of the wounding of Jackson had reached the Confederate people, they had felt a concern that hopeful professional assurances had not relieved. That Jackson would not die, the Whig assured its readers: “We need have no fears for Jackson…. He came not by chance in this day and to this generation. He was born for a purpose, and not until that purpose is fulfilled will his great soul take flight.”1 Now that hope was disappointed and faith was challenged, there was an emotional outlet in such ceremonies as a battling people could provide. The decision was to transport the body to Richmond and send it thence to Lexington for burial.

  All the pomp the grieving capital could command it displayed for the body of the fallen soldier. The few church bells that had not been molded into cannon were tolled. All business stopped. Arnold Elzey led the procession down Broad Street and to the entrance to Capitol Square. Thence between lines of troops at present arms the casket was borne to the governor’s mansion. Over the coffin, by the President’s order, a handsome new “national flag,” the first of a modified white design, was draped. The next day, in order that thousands might see, a new procession carried the body to the Capitol, where it was laid in state in the Confederate House of Representatives. To the hall now were admitted all who could file past during the day and a long evening.

  On May 13, with added tributes, the body was placed aboard a Virginia Central train and carried to Gordonsville, whence by the Orange and Alexandria it was transported to Lynchburg. From that city, on a canal boat, it was sent to Lexington. Everywhere along the route there was repetition, more distressed, of the scenes on the road from Wilderness Tavern to Guiney’s. Then it had been food and drink brought out for him; now it was spring flowers. Covered with these blossoms, the casket lay for the night of the fourteenth in Jackson’s old classroom. On May 15, Friday, after a funeral in the church of which he had been a deacon, the body was committed to the earth. Among the escort was the V.M.I., cadet battalion and convalescents and invalided veterans of the Stonewall Brigade.2

  The President telegraphed General Lee: “A great national calamity has befallen us.” In general orders of May 11, Lee spoke of “the daring, skill, and energy of this great and good soldier.” So deeply was Lee moved by the loss that he scarcely could speak of Jackson without tears, and to the end of his days he never mentioned his greatest lieutenant otherwise than with deep, affectionate admiration. “Such an executive officer,” he said, “the sun never shone on.” Any disparagement of Jackson was an offense to him. In the press lament was universal. As the Examiner saw him, “There was the stuff of Cromwell in Jackson. Hannibal might have been proud of his campaign in the Valley, and the shades of the mightiest warriors should rise to welcome his stern ghost.”3

  From the moment that the death of Jackson had seemed probable, the same question had concluded every lament—Where was his successor to be found; what would be the effect on the Southern cause of a loss so dire? Mingling resignation and deep perplexity were the words of the commanding general: “I know not how to replace him. God’s will be done. I trust He will raise up someone in his place….”4

  Most often mentioned was Dick Ewell. In the judgment of some, the sole question concerning Ewell was whether, after the loss of his leg at Groveton, he could be sufficiently active to exercise field command. Ewell’s own attitude was flawlessly generous. He was convinced that Early had earned command of the division Jube had led during his long absence from the field. “What is very certain,” he had written Early, “is that I won’t ask for any particular duty or station, but let them do as they see proper with me.” Ewell could now walk readily on his wooden leg with the help of a stick and he showed himself acrobat enough to mount his horse from the ground and to keep his seat when mounted. Did his physique match his record? Would Davis and Lee conclude that he could endure the strains of long marches, of cold bivouacs, of far-spread battlefields?5

  Was Powell Hill better qualified? In the autumn of 1862, Lee had esteemed him, after Longstreet and Jackson, the best commander then with the army. Lee had intimated, even, that if a third lieutenant general had been needed, Hill would have been qualified. Nothing had happened after that time, despite Hill’s quarrel with Jackson, to lower Lee’s estimate. On May 6, as soon as Hill was sufficiently recovered from his bruises to ride, Lee had restored him to temporary command of the Second Corps and returned Stuart to the direction of the cavalry. That bespoke his confidence in Hill. Powell Hill’s brigadiers enjoyed his hospitality, admired him as a leader, and liked his fiery spirit. Outside his division, due to the quarrel, feeling against Hill may have existed among a few of Jackson’s more emotional friends.6

  Some of Hill’s supporters were both jealous and suspicious of Stuart. The chief of cavalry is not known to have hoped for the command of the Second Corps, or even to have desired it. Stuart himself was more concerned to receive full credit for what he had accomplished May 3. Failure to receive prompt praise was not Stuart’s only distress. He mourned for Jackson, he mourned for Channing Price. The work of that invaluable staff officer Stuart entrusted, with uncommon discernment, to the former adjutant of the 3rd Virginia cavalry, Henry B. McClellan. Fortunately for Stuart, when he lost his fine young cousin he could lean almost from the start on McClellan.

  Besides Ewell, Powell Hill, and Jeb Stuart, no other officers of Lees army appear to have been mentioned widely as immediate successor to Jackson. By seniority, Harvey Hill was next to Ewell among Lee’s major generals; both Harvey Hill and Lafayette McLaws held older commissions at that grade than did the commander of the Light Division or the chief of cavalry. McLaws had ruled himself out of promotion by what he had not done at Maryland Heights and Salem Church; Harvey Hill was at the moment engaged in another painful exchange of notes that led the commanding general to believe more firmly than ever that Hill would not assume responsibility. If Harvey Hill and Lafayette McLaws were not considered when perhaps they expected to be, two others who probably did not anticipate that honor so soon were regarded as of the stature of future lieutenant generals. These men were John B. Hood and Dick Anderson. They were rated “capital officers” by General Lee who added: “They are improving, too, and will make good co
rps commanders, if necessary.”7

  Around hundreds of mess tables, Stuart, Powell Hill, and Ewell were discussed as the three among whom a choice would be made. Nothing was certain until May 23. Then, almost a fortnight after the death of Jackson, notice was sent to Dick Ewell in Richmond that he was promoted lieutenant general. Formal orders directed him to proceed without delay to Fredericksburg and to report to Lee for assignment to duty.

  Ewell received the news, so far as the records show, with no undue elation. Before he left Richmond, he allowed himself time to fulfill one ambition that he probably had cherished long: He married his widowed cousin, Lizinka Campbell Brown, daughter of George W. Campbell, former senator from Tennessee, secretary of the treasury, and minister to Russia. She was an able, strong-minded woman and had the complete, unquestioning affection of her soldier cousin, whom she probably rated far higher as a soldier than Ewell himself ever dreamed of doing. Surrender of he who was regarded as incurably the bachelor had been unconditional. She was his; but not in his mind so completely his that he could introduce her as such. For a time she was, to bowing generals, “my wife, Mrs. Brown.”8

  In part, the appointment of Dick Ewell was made because of sentimental association of his name with Jackson, and in part because of admiration for his unique, picturesque, and wholly lovable personality. Of his ability to lead a corps nothing was known. Ewell had never handled more than a division and he had served directly with Lee for less than a month. When he was advanced to corps command, nothing was said of his brief connection with Lee. So closely was his name linked with Jackson’s, and so justly popular was Old Bald Head for his gallant generosity that none questioned, apparently, either the appointment or his ability to fill it.

  Perhaps Ewells reserved commanding general should be excepted from this statement. Lee may have wished to divide risks at the same time that he recognized merit. On the morning of May 24, the day after Ewell was promoted and before the news of his advancement reached the men on the Rappahannock, Powell Hill received a call to army headquarters. He was admitted to Lees tent and in a few friendly sentences was told that the two existing corps were unwieldy for operation in a wooded country, that the President had consented to the establishment of a Third Corps, that it would consist of Hills old division, of Andersons transferred from Longstreet, and of a third division still to be formed, and that this new Third Corps was to be commanded by … Ambrose Powell Hill, lieutenant general.

  As in October Lee had recommended the promotion of both Jackson and Longstreet, so now he advocated to the President, who heartily approved, the elevation of both Ewell and Powell Hill. Ewell, Lee told the President, “is an honest, brave soldier, who has always done his duty well.” Hill was recommended as “upon the whole … the best soldier of his grade with me.” Lee justified in sound words the advancement of the two men: “I wish to take advantage of every circumstance to inspire and encourage … the officers and men to believe that their labors are appreciated, and when vacancies occur that they will receive the advantages of promotion…. I do not know where to get better men than those I have named.”9

  There was little open grumbling at these promotions. Longstreet in later years wrote that Ewell deserved promotion, but Old Pete pointed out that both Harvey Hill and McLaws were Powell Hill’s seniors. At the time the promotions were made, he voiced no objection and, except for his waning personal dislike of Powell Hill, probably felt none. If anyone complained, it may have been Lafayette McLaws, who could affirm that he was overslaughed by the advancement of Powell Hill; but if McLaws said anything, it simply was to inquire why he was passed over.10

  Hill’s elevation meant that some officer would be named to head the Light Division and would be made a major general. Hill knew that his advancement had been expected, and that Harry Heth and Dorsey Pender had been regarded as open, rival candidates to succeed him. As soon as he left the commanding general’s tent on the day he was told of his promotion, Hill took the first opportunity of writing Lee a letter, which he delivered in person that afternoon. The new chief of the Third Corps explained that he ascribed the Light Divisions good conduct “to its esprit de corps, to its pride in its name, and to its uniform ‘shoulder to shoulder feeling,’ and good feeling between the different brigades. If a judicious appointment of major general is not made, I fear that all this will be lost.”

  Concerning the two candidates, Hill went on: “Of Gen. Heth, I have but to say that I consider him a most excellent officer, and gallant soldier.” Of Pender, he “has been four times wounded and never left the field, … has the best drilled and disciplined brigade in the division, and more than all, possesses the unbounded confidence of the division…. Hence, as much as I admire and respect Gen. Heth, I am conscientiously of opinion that in the opening campaign, my division under him, will not be half as effective as under Gen. Pender.” Wherefore, Hill suggested what Lee already had decided to recommend—that two brigades of Hills command be united with two other brigades, so that, if Heth were promoted, he might have this command, while Pender became a major general to head his own brigade, McGowans, Thomas’s, and Lane’s.

  This plan was submitted to the President. Higher rank for Heth was put in some doubt by the fact that he had been nominated by Davis in October 1862 and been refused confirmation by the Senate, but in view of the need for a qualified man for a new ninth division, the commanding general and the President had decided to proceed. One other obstacle stood in the way—a third candidate for early promotion in the person of Robert Ransom, Jr., who came from the same state, North Carolina, as Pender. Political ties might be twisted and friendships taxed by preferring one to the other. A choice was avoided by sending Samuel G. French to Mississippi and advancing Ransom to take French’s place and thereby clearing the way for Pender.11

  Heth had so many old friends and bound new acquaintances to him so readily by his social charm that few begrudged what manifestly he had desired. Ransom was pleased. Dorsey Pender, after Chancellorsville, wrote his wife: “If not before, I won promotion last Sunday and if it can be done I think I shall get it.” Once he had the advancement he coveted, he ceased to record his feelings. It was his nature to desire, to strive, to achieve, and having reached his goal, to minimize what he had gained.

  Difficulty was faced in procuring the troops assigned Pender. Two of the four brigades were in the Carolinas, and some unpleasantness with Harvey Hill and sharp misunderstanding occurred before an accord was reached on their departure. This bargain confirmed Lee’s belief that Harvey Hill would not exercise discretionary powers and that, ipso facto, he was not suited to the type of command Lee exercised. That was the end of Hill’s place in Lee’s esteem as a departmental commander, though he did not lose the personal good will of his chief. Nor did he lose then or thereafter his merited reputation as a superb combat officer.12

  Ransom would remain south of the James, but the new major generals, Harry Heth and Dorsey Pender, would take their places in the new Third Corps. Rodes would command the former division of Harvey Hill. The fourth vacancy had been filled at the peak of the emergency that followed the discovery that Colston was unsuited to lead a division. Scarcely had Trimble begun to conquer his osteomyelitis than he fell sick again. As always, his spirit was free; his flesh held him captive. He could not take the division that Jackson long had saved for him. In Trimble’s stead, Allegheny Johnson, who had been slated for D. H. Hill’s division—now assigned Rodes—was called from Richmond on hurried orders. Trimble, for his part, was given charge of the Valley District, which Grumble Jones had not directed to public satisfaction. Although the assignment was not one that a man of Trimble’s fighting impulse desired, it was accepted cheerfully and with a certain satisfaction because of Jackson’s service on that famous battleground.13

  So much for the major generals, all of whom seemed competent. Cadmus Wilcox was deeply and not unreasonably disappointed that he was passed over. If the selections were a bitter cup for anyone else, no taste of it
lingers in the records. As for the brigadiers, Paul Semmes was back; but the promotion of Rodes, Heth, and Pender, the death of Paxton, the retirement of J. R. Jones, the absence of Lawton, the disabling of Nicholls, and the relief of Colston necessitated the promotion of eight men to the grade of brigadier general.

  Was there sufficient qualified material from which to draw? One promotion was a matter of course. Difficult as Pender’s place would be for any man to fill, Colonel Alfred M. Scales of the 13th North Carolina had led the brigade several times and had demonstrated his capacity. Similarly, John B. Gordon was fitted logically for command of Rodes’s old brigade. But Gordon had been assigned temporarily to Lawton’s brigade of Early’s division, and so completely had Gordon won the hearts of his fellow-Georgians that their officers unanimously petitioned that he remain their chief. Lee thought it wise to accede to this request.

  Aside from Scales and Gordon, trouble immediately was encountered in finding competent men. The grim truth was that in six brigades that lacked generals, not one of the senior colonels was ripe for promotion. Perhaps Lee was expecting more of brigadier generals and was setting higher standards for them, but for the first time attrition at the level of brigade command was threatening dangerously the organization of the army. Some of the most reliable, veteran regiments might be rendered ineffective because they would not be well led.

  What was to be done? For a time, Rodes’s brigade could be left under Colonel E.A. O’Neal of the 26th Alabama. Again, though Colonel J. M. Brockenbrough of the 40th Virginia was not suited for promotion to the command of Field’s brigade, he could ^e counted upon to keep together a command sadly reduced in numbers. This temporary arrangement left four brigade vacancies, all of them unfortunately in the famous Jackson-Trimble-Colston-Johnson division. Who could take the Stonewall Brigade? J. R. Jones s brigade readily might have been given to Colonel T. S. Garnett of the 48th Virginia, but Garnett had been killed on May 3. Colston’s brigade—who was to handle it? Three of its regiments were from Virginia, two from North Carolina. Unpleasant state rivalries had shown themselves; how were they to be resolved? Lastly, could anything be done with Nicholls’s Louisiana brigade that had lost its most promising chief? Was it to be admitted that this excellent brigade could not be supplied with a qualified officer of appropriate rank?