“His are as noble ashes as rest beneath the sod of any land.”
We think it safe to say that there is something in the suggestion that these late attacks on General Longstreet’s action at the battle of Gettysburg have for their inspiration a political bitterness of more than thirty years’ standing. Certainly, it is true that up to the close of the Civil War, and, indeed, for several years afterwards, no one ever heard a question raised as to his military ability. On the contrary, it was everywhere conceded, especially by his immediate comrades and associates, that he stood almost at the top of the list of Confederate warriors, not only in the matter of professional equipment, but in that of personal integrity and character. With the exception of Robert E. Lee, Longstreet was regarded as the very prince of the fighters, strategists, and great commanders of that heroic episode. If any one had hinted, even as late as 1869, that there was the smallest flaw in his fame, either as a soldier or a gentleman, the author of the intimation would have had enough quarrels on his hands to last him to his dying day.
Along in the later sixties, however, Longstreet was a resident of New Orleans. He had engaged in business there, having as his partner Colonel Owen, another Southern soldier of high standing and distinguished service. The shadow of reconstruction was then brooding over the South, and thoughtful men, who had accepted the result of the war in loyal faith, consulted together as to the best means of averting its evils, which were at that time sufficiently defined. Finally, in 1870 or 1871, the so-called “Unification Movement” was launched. At its head were numbers of the most prominent and influential men in Louisiana, and conspicuous among them was Beauregard. The project was discussed by the newspapers and generally approved in the more substantial and responsible circles. At last a meeting was called for the purpose of bringing together the best representatives of both races and arranging, if possible, a course of action which would make for peace and order and avert the turmoil that afterwards succeeded to the irruption of the carpet-baggers and the consequent régime of chaos. Before the appointed day, however, Longstreet’s coadjutors experienced a change of heart. They abandoned the experiment which they themselves had devised, and Longstreet was left almost without countenance or sympathy. With characteristic determination, he adhered to the policy his judgment and conscience had originally approved. Of course, it came to nothing, and he, stung by what he regarded as the desertion of the others, and still more deeply hurt by criticisms showered on him, often from the ranks of his quondam associates, went on as he had begun. Then began the breach which in time widened to animosity, ostracism, and lifelong alienation. He may have been mistaken. At least he was courageous and consistent. But we feel sure it cannot be successfully denied that doubts as to his military genius were cradled in that unhappy episode.
We have no idea of participating in any controversy over the details of Gettysburg. That may be left to the survivors who were in a position to form intelligent opinions. For our part, we think of Longstreet now as all of his compatriots thought of him up to 1870—that he was one of the finest figures on the stage of the Civil War; a spectacle of perfect gallantry; an example of warlike force and splendor. We do not believe he ever received an order from Lee which he did not execute with instant energy. We do not believe he failed in anything, either there or elsewhere, that became a valorous and brilliant soldier. He is dead now, and cannot answer his accusers, but nearly forty years have elapsed since he sheathed his stainless sword in 1865, and, in our calm, dispassionate opinion, his are as noble ashes as rest beneath the sod of any land.
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(Jacksonville, Florida, Times-Union.)
“Peace and honor to his storm-driven soul.”
Now that James Longstreet is no more, the South should forgive the estrangement that followed long years of service. Perhaps he was wiser than we—perhaps to-day we are not very far from the position he took a generation ago. Perhaps his greatness as a soldier was largely due to the same qualities which set his people in opposition to him in civil life—he had utter confidence in his own judgment, and he went straight for what he thought was right regardless of all prudential considerations.
We have accepted the result of the war in good faith—let us accept all that goes with it in our hearts and minds. Others advised while Longstreet acted—once we hated him because he headed our foes to make us keep order; were the riots against which Longstreet stood in New Orleans to be repeated in Atlanta, we know Gordon or Wheeler would head the regulars to restore peace and order if their counsels were disregarded. The time makes a difference to the sufferers—but not to the historian through whose glasses we can now afford to look. Longstreet is dead—weave violets and amaranth in his wreath of laurel—peace and honor to his storm-driven soul.
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