Excerpt
Chapter I November 17 1864 Virginia
A cold wind crept through the long abandoned home and wrapped itself around the shadows of two strong men. The older man stood in the middle of the room like an ancient gnarled oak. His body bent and worn, but his foundation securely rooted in the soil of Virginia. The younger man was in many ways a seed from that same tree. He turned his back for a moment, to stare into the darkness that awaited them both outside the window. The hour was rapidly approaching midnight, and it seemed to be getting colder. That darn bitter wind refused to remain outside, as it cut through the cracks of the shanty like an unstoppable deluge, much like the Federal juggernaut that had pushed and cornered this once valiant and optimistic, overachieving and yet tatterdemalion army.
The gray haired man rubbed his hands to keep warm, while his younger general thoughtfully danced calloused fingers through his thick brown beard. The younger man kept his eyes intent on the trenches that formed their last line of defense. He knew that the better days were gone. It was only a matter of time, until the war of attrition ended the Confederacy.
The older man broke his trance.
Well my war horse, I hope you have a good reason for persisting on meeting me here at this time.
General James Longstreet always felt a touch of pride when General Lee referred to him, as his war-horse. It had strong connotations. However, now was not the time for such feelings. He looked into the eyes of his commanding general, and said a small prayer, that maybe this time he would listen.
General Lee, we have no chance, here. That was how he said it. He ended his statement with the word here. He was hoping that if he let Lee figure this out on his own, that it would seem like Lees plan. That was the key. Longstreet realized only now the mistake he made at Gettysburg when he tried to offer Lee sound advice. He had not given Lee the chance to form a conclusion on his own, and so Lee must have thought that he meant to override his command.
That could not happen again.
General Lee was a good Christian, but he was also a proud man. No one knew that more than Longstreet. Lee appeared benevolent and humble to all, and he was. However, he was also very proud of his armys unperceivable victories over superior forces. No matter how hard Lee tried to repress his pride, for the Lord considered it a sin, Longstreet knew it was there, existing just a few layers beneath his skin. Lees pride was the driving force of this army. It was really all that they had left to fight for. Lee had to know this, had to feel proud of his accomplishments. He deserved to be. Yet, Longstreet felt a wrenching rage in the pit of his stomach because of this pride that Lee had in himself and in his army. This unwelcome nausea was caused by the three-day event that had occurred during the summer of 63 at Gettysburg.
After an extremely successful first day offensive in Pennsylvania, the Southern army had an opportunity to side step the Federal army and get between them and their capital. Wasnt that was the reason for the offensive in the first place, to outmaneuver the enemy, draw them into the open, find good ground, dig in and let them attack? Longstreet had shown Lee how well such tactics had worked back at Fredericksburg, where the Federals, with superior numbers, were massacred trying to take a well-fortified position. How had such an intelligent man not seen this, seven months later, when the tables were turned on him?
Pride. That was how.
When it was clear that the Yankees were not intending to attack at Gettysburg, he practically begged Lee to leave them on the defensive, and simply move around them to threaten Washington. This would have forced the enemy to abandon their defenses and attack us instead of us attacking them. That was the key to winning a war where your opponent had the upper hand in numbers. The set up was there, practically handed to them. They were given a golden opportunity to cut off the Federal army from its capital. Longstreet could imagine hearing the Northern politicians angrily yelling their complaints and fears at the President. They would have cajoled Lincoln into having the Northern army attack before Washington fell to the rebels. The result would have been another slaughter like the one the Yanks suffered at Fredericksburg. Longstreet fully understood that, and he expected Lee to as well.
Unfortunately Lee would attack. The more Longstreet thought about it now, the more it caused the pain in his side to threaten to rip through his soul. How could an army, without its cavalry and thus not knowing the exact position or size of its enemy attack, go on the offensive over open ground, against a well-fortified position?
Again it was pride. Pride enhanced by Lees prior victory at Chancellorsville.
It was shortly after the defensive victory at Fredericksburg, when Longstreets corps was sent south of Richmond to forage for much needed supplies as well as to contest the Federal forces that were threatening the coast. Thus, he was not present for Lees greatest triumph. Incredibly, Lee had done the impossible against an army that doubled his in size. While the Federals were pressing Lee at Fredericksburg, Union General Fighting Joe Hooker detached more than half his force, numbering more than Lees whole army, into the Confederate rear. Lee was now faced with two armies pressing against him, one from each side. Audaciously, he decided to leave a small force to contest the Federal crossing at Fredericksburg, hoping that their recent failure to cross the river would prevent another attempt. This allowed him to send the bulk of his command to face General Hookers force of eighty thousand.
Several factors had allowed his plan to succeed, the primary one being General Hookers inability to command. The failure of the fifty thousand Yanks left back at Fredericksburg to speedily and decisively shatter the twelve thousand Confederates that opposed them, allowed Lee to concentrate the majority of his army on Hookers advance. Still, the Southern army was well outnumbered and should have hoped for a stalemate at best.
Longstreet doubted whether anyone involved at the battle of Chancellorsville truly believed that the outcome would result in a Confederate victory except perhaps for Stonewall Jackson. The unorthodox Southern commander consistently led his corps in tactics that were unforeseeable to both the enemy and even many on his own side.
Jackson was a firm believer in the offensive. He had a concept of how a smaller force could defeat a larger one. It required hitting it in its flank. It was like taking a ten-foot stick and placing it against a five-foot stick. Obviously if the ten foot stick hit the five foot stick head on, its sheer size would crush the smaller one. Yet, as Jackson dogmatically believed, if you took the five-foot stick away from the front of the ten-foot stick, and placed it across the top of the bigger stick, you would make a letter T. Now the smaller stick was much bigger than that portion of the larger stick that it faced. That was how you had to hit a superior force. Hit and never stop until it was entirely defeated. In that, Jackson was a genius.
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