Command Profile: William W. Averell

I have always found William Woods Averell a somewhat fascinating Civil War command figure. Now, I know that many of you may be saying, “William who?” However, if you have been reading this blog consistently over the course of the last year, you may recall that I have mentioned Averell on several occasions. That is because Averell commanded the Union’s 4th Separate Brigade in West Virginia. As a result, he played a key role in the events surrounding my essays on Droop Mountain, the David Creigh affair, and the service of one of my ancestors, Samuel Snider, who served as a private in Averell’s command.

As to why he fascinates me, one of the reasons is that reaction of, ‘William who?” Interestingly, while almost every Civil War general who ever commanded anything beyond his adjutant and immediate staff has a biography published, no one has ever written one on Averell. The closest thing to a biographic effort was Edward Eckert and Nicholas Amato’s editing of Averell’s unfinished memoirs, titled “Ten Years in the Saddle,” which only covered his early life and his military career up to 1862. Beyond that, little notice has been given to Averell’s wartime career. And, perhaps, that is because the only thing noteworthy about Averell’s command performance is his unrealized potential, and maybe that is also what makes him a little fascinating as well.

William Averell grew up in the area around Cameron, New York, and his father was a man of many trades, including farmer, justice of the peace, postmaster, and constable. When young William was old enough to be on his own, he moved to the nearby town of Bath, where he worked as a drugstore clerk. However, like many young men, Averell had ambitions beyond life in upstate New York and yearned to attend college. Unfortunately, his parents did not have the funds to support his ambitions, so he sought an appointment to West Point, which he received in 1850. Averell thrived during his years at the Military Academy, making many good friends and embracing the life of a soldier—he found what he believed to be his calling. He would graduate in 1855, 26th in a class of 34, and was commissioned as a lieutenant of cavalry.

Following assignments at Jefferson Barracks near St. Louis and Carlisle Barracks in Pennsylvania, we was sent west to the New Mexico Territory, where he saw his first combat fighting the Navajos, Kiowas, and Zunis. Unlike some, Averell seems to have enjoyed the life of a soldier in a distant frontier garrison, both the often dull routine as well as the excitement of patrol, with its ambushes and close encounters with death. However, the most important thing to note about William Averell and his early military career is that he truly became a classic product of the “Old Army” and, as such, for better and for worse, his attitudes and conduct as a commander during the Civil War would be formed on that basis.

When I say that Averell was a product of the pre-war U.S. Army culture, I mean that is several ways. First, while he recognized wars were the result of political policy, he did not believe that they should be fought for political ends or purposes. Even more so, he did not believe that those holding political office, including the President of the United States, should play any significant role in the conduct and execution of the war—that was solely the domain of the soldier. This attitude was further strengthened by Averell’s view of the Civil War as an unnecessary product of political ambitions and failures that was now left to soldiers to fix. One could also go so far as to say that he viewed the Civil War as an unpleasant interruption in the soldierly life that now caused members of the heretofore brotherly fraternity of Army officers to fight one another, disrupting the pleasant and serene lifestyle of garrison duties.

In fairness, however, it must also be said that Averell believed in the cause of the Union, as did many of his fellow Northern professional soldiers, and was determined to fight in that cause. Still, it is important to understand that the Union was all he believed in fighting for—unpleasant issues such as the extension of slavery to the territories and emancipation had no place in the cause. The South merely needed to be shown the error of their ways via a few Federal victories and then politely allowed to re-renter the Union. In this sense, one can see that Averell stood in the same camp of officers that included men like George B. McClellan and John Fitz-Porter. In fact, it has been said that he almost a mirror image of McClellan, and, as I will describe, there is much truth in that statement.

Averell was badly wounded by a Indian arrow in 1859 and he returned to his family in Bath to convalesce and regain strength in his leg. Than convalescence leave would continue until the firing on Fort Sumter, some two years later. Having regained his health, he traveled to Washington and reported for duty. Following a rather incredible assignment in which he traveled thousands of miles on horseback through Confederate territory to successfully deliver orders to a Federal garrison in the Indian Territory beyond Arkansas, Averell was ordered to Averell was take command of an unruly Kentucky Cavalry regiment, later re-designated as the Third Pennsylvania Cavalry. Appointed as the regiment’s colonel, he trained, organized, and equipped them, turning them into a reasonable facsimile of a fighting unit. This success resulted in his promotion to command of a cavalry brigade that included that same regiment.

However, by the early summer of 1863, Averell had displayed another characteristic shared by George McClellan: a lack of resolve. Like McClellan, Averell was an excellent organizer, trainer, and planner. But, unfortunately and just like McClellan, when the fighting began, while he might go into battle with fury, he soon would back off and never finish the job. Like McClellan, he did not believe in the concept of a “hard war” as did men like Grant and Sherman, and he wanted the fighting to be more civilized and polite. He thought that one should hurt the enemy just enough to make them change their minds. As a result, he lacked the kind of aggression needed to be a successful commander. During the Chancellorsville campaign, this tendency highlighted him sufficiently to receive the wrath of General Joe Hooker. Hooker needed scapegoats following his disastrous defeat and Averell became one. Hooker relieved him of command and he was ordered first to Washington and then Philadelphia.

Before he could arrive in Philadelphia, fate intervened in the form of General Robert Schenck, commander of the Department of West Virginia. Schenck was badly in need of officers who could reorganize and train his scattered forces and he believed Averell might be just the man for the job. Upon arrival in West Virginia, Averell found his command to be a somewhat ragtag mixture of Ohio and West Virginia cavalry, infantry, and light artillery who had seen rather undistinguished service in a series of Federal defeats in the Shenandoah Valley and at Second Manassas. Worse, shortly after he arrived, Averell was ordered to retrain and reorganize his infantry into cavalry and to do so as quickly as possible. This would be a complicated task under the best of circumstances but Averell’s problem was compounded by a lack of proper saddles, bridles, and other essential materials needed to train and equip a mounted force. Luckily, however, most of the regiments being converted consisted of West Virginia farm boys who at least understood how to mount and ride a horse. That fact, combined with Averell’s considerable talents as an organizer and trainer resulted in the rapid transformation of three complete regiments of infantry into “mounted infantry.” These men quickly proved to not only be adept at rapid movement on horseback, they also possessed the ability to fight either mounted or dismounted. Described by one visiting Union general as a truly fierce looking group of solders, the 4th Separate Brigade would be successful operating under Averell during a series minor raids and skirmishes during the summer and early fall of 1863.

Their first real test and Averell’s, as well, would come in the Droop Mountain campaign. The men would perform well, driving off Confederate forces defending the road over that mountain toward Lewisburg and sending them into full retreat. Averell, on the other hand, would not do so well. While his plan and execution for the engagement at Droop Mountain was masterful, he once again stopped short of his objective. His orders had been to take Lewisburg and drive on to the nearby Virginia and Tennessee Railroad bridge over the New River. Once there, he was to destroy the bridge and, thus, sever a vital supply link to Confederate forces operating under James Longstreet in eastern Tennessee. But, once he reached Lewisburg, Averell hesitated, perceiving danger in every rumored move of the enemy and always believing the worst. He then elected to liberally interpret his orders and, citing supply shortages which did not exist, he turned his command about and went home.

This is not to say, however, that Averell was not a good leader. Shortly after Droop Mountain, he led his men on the Salem Raid against the same Virginia and Tennessee Railroad, this time trying to destroy rail lines and rolling stock near Salem, Virginia. The raid was noteworthy for its audacity and the horrible winter weather his command encountered. But, despite snow, sleet, ice, driving rains, and flooded streams, Averell led his men to Salem and back, suffering with them, shivering in his saddle just like them. Few officers could have performed as well. Still, the raid accomplished little and the rail facilities in and around Salem were repaired in a matter of days. And, like Droop Mountain, the raid would be presented by Averell as a great success and his commanders would accept that version of the story.

The picture that emerges here is one of an officer who appeared competent but, perhaps, that was only because he was fighting small, isolated actions in one of the war’s backwaters. Here, his lack of aggressive leadership was not so apparent. Unfortunately for William Averell, the course of the war would soon change and he would again find himself commanding troops engaged in major actions. Worse, this time, he would be serving under one of the most aggressive and mercurial commanders of the war, Philip Sheridan.

In the summer of 1864, Averell and his brigade would be reassigned to Sheridan’s new Army of the Shenandoah, which was directed by General grant to drive Jubal Early’s Confederate army out of the valley and secure the Shenandoah once and for all. Sheridan was the perfect man for the job—decisive, aggressive, and demanding, everything William Averell and officers like him were not. Initially, he performed well. Late in the afternoon during the Battle of Third Winchester, with infantry fighting raging, Averell and Wesley Merritt led their cavalry divisions down the Valley Pike from the north at a thundering gallop, crashing into the Confederate left flank. They quickly overran the cavalry and infantry defending the Southern redoubts there and forced the enemy infantry to withdraw. The damage caused by this attack was phenomenal. The word that Union cavalry was in their rear spread panic all along the Confederate line, and Early’s soldiers began a mad dash for the rear, “whirling through Winchester.” In some ways, this moment would be the zenith of Averell’s career, and it would be short lived.

A few days later, at Fisher’s Hill, as Early’s army fell back in disorder from another defeat at Sheridan’s hands, Averell was ordered pursue the retreating Confederate troops. Sheridan’s hope was that the cavalry would scatter and essentially destroy Early’s forces then and there, ending the campaign. He sent a dispatch to Averell, saying, “I do not want you to let the enemy bluff you or your command, and I want you to distinctly understand this note. I do not advise rashness, but I do desire resolution and actual fighting, with necessary casualties, before you retire. There must now be no backing or filling by you, without a superior force of the enemy actually engaging you.” However, once again, Averell chose to interpret his orders loosely. Rather than aggressively following and engaging Early’s men, he decided to stop and regroup, allowing the enemy to retreat unmolested. Sheridan was outraged. That very evening, he issued the following special order:

SPECIAL ORDERS No. 41.

HDQRS. MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION, September 23, 1864.

I. Bvt. Maj. Gen. W. W. Averell, commanding Second Cavalry Division, Department of West Virginia, is relieved from duty with that command and will at once proceed to Wheeling, W. Va., there to await orders from these headquarters or higher authority. General Averell will only take with him his personal staff. Col. William H. Powell, Second West Virginia Cavalry, is assigned to the command of the Second Cavalry Division, Department of West Virginia, until otherwise ordered.

By command of Major-General Sheridan

Averell was crushed and his military career was over. He returned home to Bath where, ironically, he would receive his brevet promotion to Major general on March 13, 1865. Five days later, he would tender his formal resignation from the army that he loved so much. He consider Sheridan’s actions in relieving him at Fisher’s Hill to have been illegal and unjustified and, while he would go on to a successful post-war career as a diplomat and inventor, he would spend much of his remaining life fighting to restore his name as an officer. Finally, in 1888, with fellow Democrat Grover Cleveland in the White House, Averell was reinstated in the Army by a special Act of Congress and placed upon the retired list. With his reinstatement, he was appointed to the post of Assistant Inspector General of Soldiers’ Homes. He resigned the position in 1898 and died two years later on February 3, 1900.

In some ways, William Averell’s command portrait is that of a man caught in the middle of tremendous change, both in the military culture of the United States and in the nature of war itself. No longer would the Army fight wars free from what men like Averell and McClellan saw as political “interference.” From this point forward, the president would function as commander-in-chief and establish political war aims for the nation. The military’s job was to develop and execute a strategy to achieve those aims. Further, under General Order 100, which was issued in 1863 and would serve as the foundation for U.S. military doctrine well into the 20th century, those aims would now include freedom for any and all enslaved persons. And, the strategy to achieve those aims might very well involve the use of massive force and destructive power. For all his talents as a soldier, William Averell could not see the necessity to change with the times, to look ahead, and to see that the army and the art of war were revolutionizing right before his eyes. His stubborn adherence to a command style based on training, detailed organization, endless preparation, and an overriding spirit of caution combined with a lack of vision to be his undoing as a commander.

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.