Command Profile: James Longstreet

Few Civil War command figures have generated as much controversy and discussion in the many years since the war as James Longstreet. Known as “Old Pete” to his friends in the pre-war Regular Army, Longstreet was affectionately referred to by Robert E. Lee as his “old war horse.” Lee came to rely upon Longstreet not only for his often sage strategic and tactical advice, but also his ability to employ his corps in delivering crushing blows against the enemy. However, it was that very same relationship with Lee and his post-war life as a ‘reconstructed rebel” that made him the target of the Lost Cause movement’s leadership.

He was blamed by Jubal Early and the other leaders of the Lost Cause for the loss at Gettysburg and his sometimes intemperate responses just threw fuel on the fire on controversy. As a result, we are left with a historical picture of Longstreet that is clouded by that controversy and the arguments surrounding what really happened at Gettysburg. To be sure, an entire book could be written about Longstreet and Lee on July 2, 1863, and several historians have attempted to do just that. I certainly don’t have the room in this venue to explore that topic to the level it deserves. Rather, I will endeavor to simply analyze Longstreet as a commander and summarize what I believe is the most logical answer to the questions surrounding his performance at Gettysburg.

Longstreet was born in South Carolina but spent most of his youth on his uncle’s plantation near Augusta, Georgia. It seems his father selected the military as a career for his son when the boy was very young, but realized that the local educational resources were not sufficient to prepare him for any military academy. So, he sent James to his brother’s plantation, where he could receive better schooling. After his father’s death in 1833, his mother moved to Alabama, but young James remained with his uncle. However, when his uncle attempted to obtain an appointment to West Point for him, there was none available from the local Georgia congressman. Therefore, they turned to a relative who happened to be the congressman from the Alabama district where his mother lived and Longstreet got his appointment in 1838.

Longstreet was a solid if not spectacular cadet in a class that included George Thomas, William Rosecrans (his roommate), George Pickett, and John Hood. However, ironically, the cadet who became his closest friend at West Point was Ulysses Grant. Longstreet was commissioned a second lieutenant in 1843 and assigned to the 4th U.S. Infantry at Jefferson Barracks, outside St. Louis, Missouri. His friend Grant would follow him there two years later and it was Longstreet who introduced Grant to Julia Dent, who was his fourth cousin. Longstreet would eventually be best man at their wedding.

Like Grant and most of the other young men who would be commanders in the Civil War, Longstreet saw considerable service in Mexico. He was cited for bravery in combat, receiving brevet promotions to major. Wounded in the thigh at Chapultepec, he recovered and returned to service after the war with assignments in Texas and New Mexico.

As the nation began to tear apart in late 1860, Longstreet considered what course to take. He was generally opposed to secession, but did believe in the doctrine of states’ rights. Therefore, on May 9, 1861, some three weeks after the firing on Fort Sumter, he resigned his commission in the U.S. Army and accepted a commission from Alabama free of obligations to Federal service and, in his own words, “a clear conscience.” However, the facts of Longstreet’s resignation and entry in Confederate service tell a far different story, one that provides an interesting glimpse into the dark side of Longstreet’s character, and also tells that, while he may have been a good soldier, he was also a very ambitious one.

Most of the Southern officers who resigned their commissions to fight for the Confederacy followed a very careful and honorable process. First, they tendered their resignations and awaited notice that their resignations were accepted. Only then did they apply to their home states for commissions and many waited until they traveled home following their release from U.S. service to so in person. Then, once in the service of their state, they might eventually be elevated to positions directly serving the Confederate government in Richmond based on assignments to command a brigade, division, or corps. But this was not the path taken by James Longstreet.

As early as January 1861, he corresponded with officials in Alabama about the prospects of a commission there. As the most senior officer from Alabama serving in the U.S. Army who had entered West Point from that state, this was a logical course of action as he might expect to get a very senior commission. But, all the while, he was still a serving officer in the U.S Army and he was negotiating for his personal improvement with those who were seceding from the United States and who would soon be its enemy. Worse, according to official records, Longstreet was tendered a commission as a lieutenant colonel of infantry from Alabama on March 16, 1861. On May 1, he accepted this commission, a full eight days before he resigned from Federal service and a month before that resignation was accepted. In fact, he later accepted pay from the government in Montgomery dated to May 1. Remember that the Confederacy had attacked Federal forces at Fort Sumter in April and been declared in rebellion by the President of the United States. Therefore, while serving in supposed good faith as an officer in the U.S. Army, James Longstreet accepted a commission in an enemy army and later would take money for that period. It was not the act of an honorable man, but it was most assuredly the act of an ambitious one.

Interestingly, as further proof of his personal ambition, rather than traveling to Alabama to assume service, as most of his comrades did, Longstreet went straight to the new Confederate capital in Richmond, seeking an assignment. Once there, he met personally with Jefferson Davis, who informed him that he had been appointed a brigadier general with date of rank on June 17. He was ordered to report to General Beauregard near Manassas, and assume command of a brigade of three Virginia regiments. His outstanding service at First Manassas earned him a promotion to major general and command of a division.

However, during the winter of 1861-1862, Longstreet was devastated by personal loss when a typhoid epidemic in Richmond claimed the lives of three of his children. Those who knew him well said that he changed dramatically after that. His tent, which had been the scene of much drinking and card playing, became a more sober and serious place. He would rarely drink alcohol from that time forward and became far more somber.

After Lee assumed command of the Army of Northern Virginia, Longstreet was given command of 15 brigades, nearly half the army. He would perform superbly for Lee in the Seven Days Battles, aggressively attacking McClellan’s army and driving it back down the peninsula and way from the very doorstep of Richmond. Unlike several of his counterparts, he displayed adeptness at managing such a large force as well as a cool, calm demeanor during the heat of battle. Lee apparently noticed this characteristic as well, and Longstreet would become his closest lieutenant and advisor. Lee would later say, "Longstreet was the staff in my right hand."

Longstreet continued to perform well as Lee turned against John Pope’s Union Army of Virginia. Arriving at Second Manassas on August 29, 1862, his corps was responsible for delivering the smashing blow to Pope’s left flank the next day, sending Federal forces in full retreat back to Washington. Later, however, this singular success would be turned against Longstreet by Lost Cause advocates and would even carry into 20th century historiography. The Lost Cause leaders would point out that Longstreet was supposed to have attacked earlier in the day, but asked Lee to postpone the attack while he prepared his corps and reconnoitered the battlefield. This, they claimed, was a sign of his slowness, lack of aggression, and even disobedience to Lee. Lee’s 20th century biographer and virtual “disciple,” Douglas Southall Freeman, would write that these actions at second Manassas were a sign of things to come and that Longstreet’s performance on July 2 at Gettysburg began here. Freeman would write, "The seeds of much of the disaster at Gettysburg were sown in that instant—when Lee yielded to Longstreet and Longstreet discovered that he would."

Longstreet continued to serve Lee well during the Maryland Campaign a few weeks later. He wisely counseled Lee not to split the army by sending Jackson and his corps to Harper’s Ferry. While Lee did not listen to what was probably very good advice, Longstreet accepted his commander’s decision. Then, at Antietam, he advocated the tactical defense, which he came to believe was not only the soundest course in battle, but also was the South’s best long term approach to surviving and defeating Union forces.

Thus, when Lee entered Pennsylvania in June 1863, Longstreet later would claim that his understanding from discussions with Lee prior to the invasion was that, while the overall strategy was offensive, the plan was to maneuver Federal forces into battle at a place of Lee’s choice, where the Army of Northern Virginia could employ a tactically defensive posture. Therefore, when Lee encountered the Army of Potomac, Longstreet was surprised that his general decided to continue attacking offensively on the second day of the battle. According to Longstreet, he advised Lee to break contact with the enemy and move strategically around his left flank, where they could position themselves between Union forces and Washington, undertake the tactical defensive, and force a fight on Lee’s terms.

Whether that was actually what Longstreet told Lee is something we will never know as there were, apparently, no witnesses or at least none who recorded the event. Further, in three different published versions of the story, Longstreet is inconsistent in what he claims to have said to Lee. Plus, his advice seems somewhat fuzzy and Lee was probably right to reject the idea as he had no idea where the rest of Meade’s army was deployed. He had already been forced to wander about Pennsylvania blind due to Jeb Stuart’s absence and, as a result, he had stumbled into some portion of the enemy army. To now move off to the south in the face of that army, where he might run into the rest of it, made little sense. But, whatever was said, it is clear from other accounts that Longstreet was rebuffed by Lee and was angered by that rejection. Therefore, there is probably some credence to arguments that his lackluster command performance during the next few hours of July 2 was colored by his disagreement with Lee.

An attack on the Union left that was supposed to be launched at midday was delayed by a series of errors, marches in the wrong direction, and an insistence on waiting for more troops to come up. In the balance, his performance from that morning until 4:00 p.m. that afternoon seems like one of an inexperienced, unprofessional soldier and not like the skilled, savvy professional soldier that James Longstreet was. However, despite the fact that he may have felt as he did about the attack and that, once he reached the Union left, he found the enemy not as vulnerably positioned as told earlier, Longstreet sent his men in with aggression and determination. Only the timely arrival and employment of Union reserves, along with stubborn resistance by the soldiers of the Army of the Potomac stopped Longstreet’s relentless assault in what may have been the toughest three hours of fighting during the entire war.

But, Longstreet’s Gettysburg controversy did not end on July 2. The next day, he opposed Lee’s plan for an assault by men from George Pickett’s division and A.P. Hill’s corps against the Federal center. Longstreet would later claim that he told Lee that “no fifteen thousand men ever arranged for battle can take that position.” Again, we will never know whether he actually said those words, but the evidence is clear that he opposed the attack and felt strongly that it would fail and do so disastrously.

As the Confederate artillery barrage on Union forces on Cemetery Ridge continued, Longstreet sent an amazing note to Lee’s artillery chief, Porter Alexander, in which he told the artilleryman to essentially use his judgment as to the effectiveness of the artillery fire and not only advise General Pickett when to launch the assault but also whether to attack at all. Alexander was shocked by the note in which it appears Longstreet was actually trying to shift responsibility for ordering the charge to the more junior Alexander. The artilleryman responded to Longstreet in such a manner that Longstreet realized he could not ask someone else to give an order he himself opposed. When Pickett finally came to Longstreet and asked him if he should advance, Longstreet turned away, appearing very “grave and concerned.” Finally, Old Pete could only nod, apparently unable to speak the words that would send so many to their deaths.

Following the defeat at Gettysburg, in September 1863, Longstreet and his corps were dispatched to Georgia and assigned to the irascible Braxton Bragg and the Army of Tennessee. Longstreet would arrive in time to play a critical role in that Confederate army’s only true victory, the defeat of the Union Army of the Cumberland at Chickamauga under Longstreet’s old West Point roommate, William Rosecrans. But Longstreet soon clashed openly with Bragg, as seemingly did everyone else. Further, sending an ambitious man like Longstreet into the snake pit that was the command staff of the Army of Tennessee only added to the already toxic leadership environment. The generals on Bragg’s staff, who had been lobbying for his removal for months, now had what they saw as a powerful and potentially influential ally in James Longstreet. Longstreet would accommodate them by writing a remarkable and utterly insubordinate letter to the Confederate Secretary of War, James Seddon, in which he stated, "I am convinced that nothing but the hand of God can save us or help us as long as we have our present commander."

Seddon forwarded the letter to Jefferson Davis and Davis made what was his second trip to deal with the rebellious generals of Bragg’s army. The president’s visit included what may have been one of the most bizarre moments of the war in which Bragg was forced to sit and angrily face his detractors as, one by one, they openly condemned him. For his part, Longstreet stated that Bragg "was incompetent to manage an army or put men into a fight" and that he "knew nothing of the business." However, just as before, Davis refused to relive Bragg of command and did nothing to change the command picture in the army.

Bragg would then reassign all the officers who opposed him or reduce their authority. Longstreet, who had commanded an entire wing of the army at Chickamauga, was now demoted to only command those forces he had brought with him from Virginia. As a result, he tried to extract himself from Bragg’s siege of Chattanooga. Eventually, he would be ordered to break free from Bragg and undertake operations against Ambrose Burnside’s army at Knoxville. Longstreet finally had an opportunity to prove himself as an independent commander in the field, but he failed miserably in this role. His siege of Knoxville was a failure and his army was forced to spend a harsh winter in the mountains of east Tennessee.

In 1864, Longstreet and his corps would rejoin Lee’s army as they awaited an offensive by Longstreet’s old friend, Ulysses Grant. When that offensive began in May 1864, Longstreet would lead his men into the thick of the fighting on the right flank in the Wilderness. During the fight, in which he rolled up Winfield Scott Hancock and the Federal left “like a wet blanket,” Longstreet was severely wounded when a bullet from friendly fire tore through his shoulder, severing nerves, and ripping a gash in his throat. He would recover and return to Lee in October 1864; however it would take years for him to fully regain the use of his right arm.

Longstreet served with Lee until the end of the war, defending Petersburg and then taking the long retreat that ended at Appomattox. When Lee asked his advice on surrender, Longstreet initially maintained the time had not yet come for that. However, once they found themselves blocked at Appomattox Court House, he knew the time had come. After the surrender, he would shake hands with his friend Grant on the porch of Wilbur McLean’s house and return to private life.

Following the war, Longstreet moved to New Orleans and, ever the opportunist, joined the Republican Party. Leveraging his relationship with Grant, who was now president, he served in a variety of posts and became an outspoken an advocate for equal rights for blacks, national reunification, and reconstruction. It is little wonder that he made such a ready target for the racist leaders of the Lost Cause. As the years passed, Longstreet became the scapegoat for Confederate defeat in the Civil War. James Longstreet may have, at times, allowed his own personal ambition to overcome his sense of honor, but he was a talented soldier who was, without doubt, the greatest of all the South’s corps commanders. The South was defeated both at Gettysburg and in the war for many reasons, but Longstreet was not one of them.

Only in recent decades has his life been reexamined with less prejudice and his name restored. In fact, it would not be until 1998 that a monument to him would be erected anywhere in the United States. Ironically, that monument stands at Gettysburg.

Two Days in April, Part 2: Breakthrough at Petersburg

With the Confederate disaster at Five Forks on April 1, 1865, Robert E. Lee knew that he and his army were in dire straits. Not only was the Southside Railroad cut, but Sheridan’s cavalry was now poised to potentially cut off his lines of retreat. Further, Pickett’s men had functioned as Lee’s only mobile reserve. With the loss of those men, he had been forced to begin emptying the fortifications in front of Richmond, ordering Longstreet to bring his force south. This might allow him enough strength to forestall another calamity should Ulysses S. Grant attack, giving the Army of Northern Virginia a chance to escape, which now seemed their only option. He was hoping to buy time, but must have feared that his opponent, the always aggressive Grant, might see the opportunity before him and strike quickly.

In fact, Grant had already ordered a massive attack on Petersburg’s entrenchments for the next morning, Sunday, April 2. Grant’s plan for the assault was fairly simple. A massive bombardment would begin around midnight and continue until 4:00 a.m., when the infantry of IX and VI Corps would move forward. IX Corps would form on the right and attack the trenches in and around Fort Mahone, while the VI Corps assaulted the Confederate trenches along the so-called Boydton Plank Road line. Meanwhile, the newly formed XXIV Corps would form on the left of VI Corps and either swing in behind them to exploit any breakthrough or attack the Confederate line to VI Corps’ left, as the situation dictated.

That night, as the orders for the next morning were distributed in the Union camps, the soldiers received them with a fatalistic resolve. They had all participated in previous attacks on the formidable Confederate defenses and had seen them all turned back. Just before midnight, the men of VI and IX Corps began to form up. The night was chilly and damp, which added to what was a growing sense of dread. One officer in VI Corps heard a soldier tell his comrades, “Well, goodbye boys; this means death.” Another, Captain Thomas Beals of IX Corps, would later write, “There can be no doubt that few of us expected to emerge alive from this affair: for one, I did not.”

At midnight, the Union guns opened fire on the Confederate fortifications. In the ten months that Lee’s army had held the line at Petersburg, they had endured many bombardments, but nothing like this one. The Union artillerymen were using every gun available and the night sky was filled with the burning arcs of shells as they made their way towards the Confederate fortifications. The noise was deafening, so much so that, when the signal gun for the attack was fired, no one could hear it.

Around 4:00 a.m., both IX and VI Corps advanced with teams of “pioneers” in the lead. These men carried axes and their job was to quickly hack through the hedges of abatis and chevaux-de-frise that formed the first line of Confederate defense. The pioneers were followed by rank upon rank of infantry, who advanced with fixed bayonets. Their rifles were loaded, but not capped, to prevent an accidental firing that might reveal their position. The hope was that the infantry could approach the first line of Southern pickets in their rifle pits undetected, then quickly rush and subdue them. This, they hoped, might limit the warning to the main Confederate defensive line.

General Parke’s IX Corps reached the Confederate lines first, attacking Fort Mahone, known to the Union troops as “Fort Damnation.” The lines around Mahone were defended by about 3,600 men under General John B. Gordon. Their numbers were so small, that they could only post about 1,000 men per mile. However, despite the thinness of their ranks, they made "Fort Damnation” live up its name as they raked the waves of Union infantry with salvos of double-canister and volley after volley of rifle fire. Despite this, the Union troops kept coming, tearing their way through the abatis, and plunging into the rain-flooded ditch at the base of the Confederate breastworks, where many wounded Federals would fall and drown. From there, they scrambled up the sides of the earthworks, and jumped into the stronghold, fighting hand-to-hand with bayonets and rifle butts.

At first the IX Corps attack was successful, taking three Confederate batteries and gaining partial possession of another. But, soon, the attack bogged down amid the maze of entrenchments and no breakthrough could be made. One Confederate soldier recalled that, “the open space inside Fort Mahone was literally covered with blue-coated corpses.” By 11:00 a.m., Gordon and his men had contained Parke's breach and began to work on counterattacks to push the Union attackers out of the fort.

Map image used with permission by the Civil War Preservation Trust

However, further to the west, things were not going so well for Lee’s men. There, the battle-hardened VI Corps, under the command of General Horatio Wright, advanced in a massive wedge formation, sweeping over the Southern rifle pits and crashing into the fortifications like a great surging wave. The Confederate lines here were held by Wilcox's and Heth's divisions of A.P. Hill's Corps, a total of six brigades holding a front of about six miles along the Boydton Plank Road. As was the case at Fort Mahone, the Confederate line was very thin. As a result, the Federal infantry breached the entrenchments at several points as the defenders clawed and fought hand-to-hand with their attackers.

The first man into the Confederate trenches was Captain Charles Gould of the 5th Vermont Infantry. As he leaped into the trench leading his men, he was bayoneted through the cheek and mouth by a North Carolinian. Gould killed his assailant with a saber as he fired his service revolver at other converging Confederates. One of the defenders then struck him down with a rifle butt, while yet another bayoneted Gould in the back. Gould, who would be awarded the Medal of Honor, fought back ferociously and was finally saved by his color sergeant, who clubbed the attackers with his own rifle, then grabbed the young captain by the collar and pulled him up out of the trench, sending him to safety in the rear.

All along the Boyden Plank Road line, men of the VI Corps poured over the Confederate entrenchments and all resistance was “swept away and scattered like chaff before a tornado.” Wright’s troops boiled over and through the trenches, pushing past the Boyden Plank Road and reaching the Southside Railroad, a mile behind Confederate lines. By shortly after 5:00 a.m., the Confederate line was completely smashed, and the defenders were fleeing in all directions. Wright managed to reform his exuberant men and swing them left, sweeping down the Confederate line toward Hatcher’s Run, where they linked up with General Gibbon’s XXIV Corps, which had achieved an easier breakthrough.

As the VI Corps was overrunning the Boyden Plank Road line, General James Longstreet arrived at Lee’s headquarters. He found Lee still in bed, not asleep but suffering from rheumatism. Longstreet sat on the edge of the bed as Lee discussed the events at Five Forks and instructed him where to place his men once they arrived. While they were talking, one of Lee’s staff burst into the room, telling him, “General, the lines have broken out front. You’ll have to go.” Lee calmly rose from his bed and walked to the front door, where he could clearly see the lines of blue-clad infantry advancing towards them. The general quickly dressed, mounted his horse, and rode off with his staff. Knowing that all was lost here, he put a plan in motion to send his army into retreat through Petersburg, across the Appomattox River, then west where he hoped to eventually link up with Joseph Johnston’s Army of Tennessee. Before leaving, he sent one last telegram to his Secretary of War, John C. Breckenridge, in which he told him, “I advise that all preparation be made for leaving Richmond tonight.”

When Lee’s message reached Breckenridge, he sent a copy via messenger to President Jefferson Davis, who was attending Sunday morning services at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Davis was sitting his usual pew when the messenger strode up the aisle and handed him the telegram. Davis read it silently, and then he “arose, and was noticed to walk rather unsteadily out of the church.” Parishioners said later that they could read nothing by his expression, but, as more messengers arrived and more government officials hurried out, they all knew what must be happening: the Yankees had finally broken through.

Back in front of Petersburg, the fighting continued. The breakthrough by Wright’s corps, now threatened the entire Confederate position at Petersburg. If the Federal troops could advance quickly enough, they might actually enter the city and seize the bridges over the Appomattox River, the very ones the Lee needed to get his army safely away. Lee needed to slow that advance until Longstreet could get into position. The only things stopping the Federals now were Fort Gregg and Fort Whitworth, occupied by about 300 troops from various Mississippi, North Carolina, and Georgia brigades.

About 11:00 a.m., Wright’s VI Corps was approaching Fort Gregg. However, Wright deferred the attack to Gibbon and XXIV Corps. VI Corps had been up for almost 18 hours straight, and had been fighting and marching since before 5:00 a.m., so Gibbon's men would have to make the effort to take Fort Gregg. Gibbon was more than happy to take on the assignment and his men advanced at 1:00 p.m.

The fort's garrison, outnumbered 10 to 1, was too small to break up the attack, but in too strong a position to be overrun by brute force. Plus, they fought with uncommon ferocity, cutting down the attacking Federal infantry with a deadly hail of cannon and rifle fire. Each defender had two rifles and, as they fired one, a man behind them would reload the other. Still, Gibbon’s men pressed forward and, soon, they were piling in and over the ramparts. The fighting inside Fort Gregg and Fort Whitworth would be some of the most desperate of the war. The Confederate defenders refused to go down, despite calls for their surrender. Finally, they would be subdued, but, of the 300 Confederate defenders inside Fort Gregg, only 30 were left standing. Gibbon, meanwhile, had lost 714 men killed, wounded, or missing.

The determined defense of Fort Gregg gave Lee time to deploy Longstreet’s men. As Longstreet watched the assault through his glasses, he saw his old friend, John Gibbon, near the front. Longstreet raised his hat, hoping Gibbon would see the salute of his old comrade. However, Gibbon did not see his friend in the distance across the lines of battle. Then, Longstreet recognized another man through his glasses, someone for whom he had stood up as best man at a wedding long ago in St. Louis: Ulysses Grant. Longstreet did not know it at that moment, but they would be reunited in only a week’s time.

As the firing at Fort Gregg died down, on the other end of the Petersburg line, John Gordon launched his counterattack at Fort Mahone. The assault hit the Union IX Corps hard, nearly driving them out of the fortifications. However, the timely arrival of reinforcements from the Army of the Potomac provost brigade, plus one brigade from VI Corps, stopped Gordon in his tracks, and the Georgian fell back. Gordon, however, would not give up and he prepared his men for another counterattack. But, just as he was about to move forward, word came that VI Corps had broken through to the west and the evacuation of Petersburg was inevitable. So, he abandoned his plans and, instead, began the retreat.

Grant now ordered his corps commanders to push forward and close the ring around Lee. However, Longstreet’s men were able to hold them back, and, with no fresh troops available, the exhausted soldiers of VI, IX, and XXIV Corps could not continue the fight. By late afternoon Grant decided to call a halt to the offensive and plan an attack for the next morning. However, during the night, Lee would get across the river and begin his retreat. Grant, for his part, would then mount the great pursuit that would end a week later at Appomattox Court House.

The Gettysburg Campaign: Part 3

As the evening of July 2, 1863 approached, the massive Confederate assault on the Union left had begun to wane. Despite initial successes, Longstreet’s attack came to a halt as his units lost momentum due to their own losses and the impact of resistance from Federal reserves. Longstreet’s attack was to have been coordinated with an assault by Ewell’s corps on the Federal right. Ewell’s attack was to have functioned as a demonstration or diversion, which would become a major attack if the opportunity presented itself. Ewell planned his attack to move from left to right, with Johnson’s division moving up the steep, rocky slopes of Culp’s Hill, followed quickly by Early’s division assaulting the northeastern side of Cemetery Hill.

Unfortunately for Lee and his army, Ewell did not attack when Longstreet did and, in fact, his attack did not start until Longstreet’s offensive was over and darkness was quickly overtaking the battlefield. Johnson’s men made their attack on Culp’s Hill and became engaged in a protracted, vicious fight in the darkness that saw them make gains on the lower portion of Culp’s Hill, but nowhere else. The Federal forces on the hill, meanwhile, had been weakened by withdrawal of units needed to shore up the Federal left and center. However, the remaining Federals under the command of Brigadier General George Greene put up tremendous resistance and, eventually, the XII Corps units that had been pulled away returned to help stall the Confederate attack. Had Johnson attacked at the correct time, those units might have been unable to return in time to help Greene fight off the attack. Once again, as would happen throughout the battle, Confederate efforts had been blunted because their inability to coordinate attacks allowed Meade’s army to shift forces when needed.

When Johnson’s men were engaged on Culp’s Hill, Early began to move the brigades of Hays and Hoke against Cemetery Hill. While the Union defensive position there might have appeared formidable, they were not so strong as one might expect. First, the XI Corps units manning the defenses on the hill had been badly mauled by Ewell’s men on July 1 and, now, they had to ensure they defended both sides of the hill from attack. Next, the position was essentially a salient that pointed north towards Gettysburg. As such, it was vulnerable to simultaneous attacks from the west and east sides and, as noted by Confederate General Porter Alexander, it was especially susceptible to enfilading artillery fire. In fact, Alexander considered the position both vulnerable enough and strategic enough to have warranted the focus of Lee’s attack on July 3 instead of Cemetery Ridge.

It must also be noted that Cemetery Hill was, indeed, of great strategic importance to the Army of the Potomac. It was the anchor point for the north end of the Union line and its loss could have led to the collapse of the entire right flank of the army. In addition, Cemetery Hill and Culp’s Hill both were vital to control of the Baltimore Pike and, thus, Meade’s lines of communication and a potential avenue of retreat.

Given the hill’s salient nature, a simultaneous attack against the northeastern and western face of the Union defenses would have seemed the best chance for success. Apparently, there was some thinking in this direction as Ewell had intended for Rodes’ division to attack the opposite side of the hill. Once again, however, a Confederate unit was not in position when it should have been and, in this instance, did not even seem to attempt an attack. In fact, Rodes’ maneuvers could hardly even be referred to as a feint. However, Rodes was not entirely to blame. He was expecting Pender’s division from Hill’s corps to support his right, but Pender’s men never materialized despite pleas from Ewell. This sort of lack of cooperation was not unique within the Army of Northern Virginia, and, at Gettysburg, it was not only a typical problem, it was also a fatal flaw.

As a result, Early’s men attacked Cemetery Hill without support on their right, confining the attack to the northeastern side of the hill. The opposing XI Corps’ infantry were made more vulnerable when their division commander, Adelbert Ames, elected to shift the 17th Connecticut to the right, creating a gap in the line near its northern end. Early’s men took advantage of the gap and drove through it and up the hill towards the Federal artillery. Several of Ames’ regiments fell back and reformed to defend the guns, while other stoutly maintained their positions at the base of the hill. As the fighting ensued in darkness, XI Corps units from west of the pike along with Carroll’s brigade from II Corps were able to bolster the Union defenders and counterattack to drive Early’s men off the hill. Here once more, the lack of coordinated Confederate pressure allowed Union forces to shift manpower when they needed it most. That ability, combined with hard fighting by the defending XI Corps infantry and artillery, was enough to turn Early back and end the threat to Cemetery Hill.

The next morning, Lee ordered a second attack on Culp’s Hill. In all likelihood, Lee intended that this attack would take place at the same time as an assault by Longstreet on the right flank. But, once again, poor coordination and the inept Confederate command system resulted in problems for the Army of Northern Virginia. Pickett’s division, which was supposed to move up and be ready to attack at dawn, was not in place, and Ewell’s men were left to attack on their own.

Historian Jeffrey Wert states his opinion that Lee had no knowledge of the “tactical situation on Ewell’s front” when he issued the order. But, Ewell overrode the objections of his own commanders and supported Lee’s orders. Ewell should have known better but Ewell had never personally examined the terrain and Union defenses on Culp’s Hill. This lack of tactical awareness seems to have plagued the Confederate command structure at Gettysburg. At critical moments, there seems to have been a distinct lack of awareness by key commanders, including Lee himself, of terrain, of defenses, and of the overall tactical situation. This kind of awareness is what any modern soldier would term as the all-important “preparation of the battlefield.” Why it was in such short supply in the Army of Northern Virginia is a compelling question.

The XII Corps defenders were planning a counterattack to regain the lower portion of the hill when Ewells men struck. Despite the fact Ewell had doubled the number of attackers, the assault would fail. The Union field fortifications, the terrain, and the actions of the Federal defenders were simply too much for Ewell’s men to overcome. Despite three separate assaults by Johnson’s men, they would never really come close to breaking the Union line atop the upper hill and they were badly mauled by the intense rifle fire of the XII Corps. While the victory at Culp’s Hill was crucial for the Union’s position, the Confederate attack was probably a misguided and ill-fated effort. Even if it had been coordinated with an attack by Longstreet, it probably would have failed. The Union defenses were simply too strong and the forces on-hand were more than sufficient to turn Ewell’s men back. In the end, it was an unnecessary and useless waste of good men.

With Pickett’s men absent, Lee now considered his alternatives. He was determined to attack again and, again, he summarily dismissed Longstreet’s idea of a move around the Federal right. At first, he wanted Longstreet to attack the Union left as planned with McLaws, Hood, and Pickett, once the latter arrived. When Longstreet was able to talk his commander out of this idea, Lee began to focus on the Federal center, on the copse of trees on Cemetery Ridge that would soon become so much a part of the collective American memory.

When stripped down to its basic elements, Lee’s plan for what became popularly known as “Pickett’s Charge” was very basic. His concept called a large-scale infantry assault against the Union center on Cemetery Ridge, which was to be preceded by a massive artillery barrage. Once the leading infantry units broke through the Federal line, they would be quickly followed by supporting troops who would then exploit the breakthrough and turn down the Federal line, rolling up the defending Union infantry in the process. It was shock assault tactics at its most basic, relying on firepower and focused use of mass.

However, despite the fact that the plan was developed by a man regarded by many then and now as a tactical genius, it was badly flawed. The plan for the attack relied heavily on the ability of Confederate artillery to either seriously damage Federal batteries or force them to pull their guns back. This was a critical ingredient in the plan because Lee’s infantry would be forced to cross nearly a mile of open terrain where they would be within range of Federal guns almost from the moment they stepped off. Therefore, for the infantry, it was matter of exposure both in the sense of the terrain as well as in time and distance. Unfortunately, the Southern artillery was not up to the task. Its long-range ammunition was in short supply and much of it was of poor quality.

In addition, preparation of the battlefield was again lacking. Not only would the open, slightly undulating terrain expose the Southern infantry to Federal artillery fire, the point chosen for the attack could not have been worse in that it allowed virtually every battery the Army of the Potomac to be used to counter the attack. Not only would batteries on Cemetery Ridge come into play, but Federal guns on Cemetery Hill and Little Round Top would be able to reach out and hit the attacking infantry. In fact, over 120 guns would eventually be deployed against the Confederate assault. Further, there were the fences along Emmitsburg Road. These would slow the infantry down and break up their formations just as they came within effective rifle and canister range of the Union positions. These factors should have been obvious to an experienced military engineer like Lee, but they were apparently either overlooked or dismissed. As Porter Alexander would later observe, “The point selected and the method of attack would certainly have been chosen for us by the enemy had they had the choice.”

When the attack began, Confederate artillery did unleash a seemingly impressive barrage. However, while noisy and spectacular, it did not achieve the desired results. Federal artillery was not silenced. In fact, it soon began to respond and gave back more than it received. Lee’s guns received effective counter-battery fire, which further limited their effectiveness. In fact, Porter Alexander, whose job it was to advise Longstreet and Pickett when the latter should move his infantry forward, was finally moved to do so primarily because he was running out of both ammunition and guns.

Picketts’ infantry assault is notable primarily for its bravery. The men went in as ordered and Federal long-range artillery began to take an immediate toll. By the time they reached the fences, their combat power was already beginning to wane. The effect of the fences was exactly as could have been predicted. Those who made it beyond the road were subjected to heavy rifle and canister fire as they moved up the gentle slope towards the stone walls on the ridge. They would actually pierce the Federal line at several points, but a staunch defense and localized counterattacks turned them back. It was all a matter of a poorly conceived and planned attack going against a determined, well-positioned defender. No amount of bravery would change the outcome.

While one might ask what would have happened if Pickett’s assault had succeeded, it is perhaps better to ask if it ever could have succeeded. First, it should be noted that exploring “what ifs” in past battles is a tricky and difficult task. Anyone who has ever conducted a postmortem examination of a military operation can tell you that it is a difficult thing to do, even if the battle was yesterday. The problem is that there are so many variables and so many nuances that could be influenced by a single change in events. This problem compounds itself as time passes, making “what if” analyses a practice that might be fun, but one that rarely produces much of historical value.

Still, when one examines Pickett’s attack, it must be said that, as planned, it had little chance and, as executed, it had even less. Confederate artillery was simply not up to the task it was given and, without it being effective, the attack simply could not suceed. Further, there is also the question of the use of supporting troops to exploit the breakthroughs made by Pickett’s men. Indeed, there was such a role planned for Wilcox and Lang’s brigades, but Longstreet, who opposed the entire concept for the attack, never sent them forward. If he had, one might wonder if they would have made a difference.

However, the answer to that question is that they probably would not have made an effective difference. Had they followed close on the heels of Pickett and Pettigrew’s men, they would have been subjected to the same long-range artillery fire, especially from the batteries along the Union flanks, which ceased to fire at the leading assault elements once they closed on Cemetery Ridge. In addition, the use of supporting troops to exploit a breach in the enemy’s lines was a difficult thing to accomplish during the Civil War. Follow-on units had a tendency to become crowded in with those in front of them and had problems trying to maintain a cohesive formation as they approached the point of attack. In this case, one can well imagine Wilcox and Lang’s forces, having been weakened by artillery fire as they crossed the field to Emmitsburg Road, simply bogging down as they crowded in with the surviving elements of the lead assault, before they too were subjected to a galling close range fire, and melted away at the stone wall.

Meanwhile, as Union defenders turned Pickett back, there was also some significant action occurring along the flanks by Federal Cavalry. On the Union right, General David Gregg’s men outfought Stuart’s cavalry in a fight for control of roads critical to the Union position. Had Gregg failed, Stuart could have easily threatened the Union rear and altered the character of the battle. Perhaps more potentially important, however, was the fighting along the Union left. Here, Kilpatrick and Merritt conducted cavalry operations that, while costly and disjointed, offered an opportunity to counterattack Lee’s army in the aftermath of Pickett’s defeat. When reading the accounts of Farnsworth’s ill-fated attack, one cannot help but wonder what the Federal infantry on the Union left was doing during this time. Here was a golden opportunity to drive McLaws’ and Hood’s men from the field and roll up the Confederate right, if only someone had ordered it. It raises question as to how much Meade knew about these operations as they were occurring. It would appear that, while he would later report these actions, he either knew little of them as they happened or simply did not see the opportunity they presented.

As it happened, Meade did not order a counterattack of any kind, even though men like Hancock recommended it. Some historians believe that Meade’s decision to simply take what he had won was a wise one and the only realistic option. It may have been so, but only because Meade seems not to have prepared for such an eventuality. He had mentally accepted the defensive role and had no contingency plan for anything but staying where he was or retreating. Swiftly organizing an offensive counterattack by a force committed wholesale to the defensive would probably have seemed an impossible and irresponsible thing to do to George Meade. Certainly, Ulysses Grant might have done otherwise if placed in the same situation, but that is yet another tantalizing “what if.”