Naturally the world turned to the Richmond newspapers for Southern history, and with what results I will give an illustration: All war histories teach that in Longstreet’s assault on the third day his right division (Pickett’s) displayed more gallantry and shed more blood, in proportion to numbers engaged, than any other troops on any occasion ever had. Now, if gallantry can be measured by the number or per centage of deaths and wounds, and by the fortitude with which casualties are borne, then there were several commands engaged in this assault, which displayed more gallantry than any brigade in General Longstreet’s pet division. Who is there who knows anything of this battle to whom the name of Virginia is not familiar?
To how many does the name of Gettysburg suggest the names of Tennessee, Mississippi or North Carolina? And yet the Tennessee brigade suffered severely; but the courage of its survivors was unimpaired. There were three Mississippi regiments in Davis’ brigade, which between them had one hundred and forty-one men killed on the field. Pickett’s dead numbered not quite fifteen to the regiment. The five North Carolina regiments of Pettigrew’s division bore with fortitude a loss of two hundred and twenty-nine killed.
Pickett’s fifteen Virginia regiments were fearfully demoralized by a loss of two hundred and twenty-four killed. Virginia and North Carolina had each about the same number of infantry in this battle. The former had three hundred and seventy-five killed, the latter six hundred and ninety-six.
When in ante-bellum days, Governor Holden, the then leader of the Democratic cohorts in North Carolina, was the editor of the “Raleigh Standard,” he boasted that he could kill and make alive. The Richmond editors during the war combining local and intellectual advantages without boasting did the same. They had the same power over reputations that the Almighty has over physical matter. This fact General Longstreet soon learned, and the lesson once learned, he made the most of it. He would praise their pet troops and they would praise him, and between them everything was lovely. He was an able soldier, “an able writer, but an ungenerous.” Troops from another corps, who might be temporarily assigned to him were invariably either ignored or slandered.
The Gascons have long been noted in history for their peculiarity of uniting great boastfulness with great courage. It is possible that some of General Longstreet’s ancestors may have come from Southern France. His gasconade, as shown of late by his writings, is truly astonishing, but his courage during the war was equally remarkable. Whether his Virginia division excelled in the latter of these characteristics as much as it has for thirty-six years in the first, I will leave the readers of this monograph to decide.
If to every description of a battle, a list of casualties were added, not only would many commands, both in the army of Northern Virginia and in the army of the Potomac, which have all along been practically ignored, come well to the front; but those who for years have been reaping the glory that others sowed, would have the suspicion that perhaps after all they were rather poor creatures. Our old soldier friend, Col. John Smith, of Jamestown, Va., to an admiring crowd, tells his story: “He carried into action five hundred men, he charged a battery, great lanes were swept through his regiment by grape and canister, whole companies were swept away, but his men close up and charge on, the carnage is appalling, but it does not appall, the guns are captured, but only he and ten men are left to hold them. His regiment has been destroyed, wiped out, annihilated,” and this will go for history. But should Truth in the form of a list of casualties appear, it would be seen that Colonel Smith’s command had fifteen killed and sixty wounded. That is three in the hundred killed, and twelve in the hundred wounded. Some gallantry has been displayed, some blood has been shed, but neither the one nor the other was at all phenomenal. “There were brave men before Agamemnon.”
In some commands the habit of “playing possum” prevailed. When a charge was being made, if a fellow became badly frightened, all he had to do was to fall flat and play dead until his regiment passed. Afterwards he would say that the concussion from a shell had stunned him. It is needless to say that troops who were addicted to this habit stood higher abroad if their correspondent could use his pen well, than they did in the army.
Was it arrogance or was it ignorance which always caused Pickett’s men to speak of the troops which marched on their left as their SUPPORTS? It is true that an order was issued and it was so published to them that they should be supported by a part of Hill’s Corps, and these troops were actually formed in their rear. It is equally true that before the command to move forward was given this order was countermanded and these troops were removed and placed on their left. As these movements were seen of all men this order could not have been the origin of the belief that Pettigrew had to support them. Was it arrogance and self-conceit? It looks like it. That their division stood to Lee’s army in the same relation that the sun does to the solar system. But then these people, it not blessed with some other qualities, had brains enough to know that our army could fight and conquer, too, without their assistance. They did comparatively little fighting at Second Manassas and Sharpsburg, had only two men killed at Fredericksburg, did not fire a shot at Chancellorsville, for they were miles away, and it is no exaggeration to say that they did not kill twenty of the enemy at Gettysburg.
The front line of troops, the line which does the fighting, was always known as “the line.” The line which marched in rear to give moral support and practical assistance, if necessary, was in every other known body of troops called the supporting line or simply “supports.” Pickett’s division had Kemper’s on the right, Garnett’s on the left, with Armistead’s marching in the rear of Garnett’s. Pettigrew’s formed one line with Lane’s and Scales’ brigades of Pender’s division, under Trimble, marching in the rear of its right as supports. How many supporting lines did Pickett’s people want? The Federals are said occasionally to have used three. Even one with us was the exception. Ordinarily one brigade of each division was held in reserve, while the others were fighting, in order to repair any possible disaster.
To show how a falsehood can be fortified by Art, I will state that I visited the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia and there saw a very large and really fine painting representing some desperate fighting at the so-called “Bloody Angle.” Clubbing with muskets, jabbing with bayonets and firing of cannon at short range, was the order of the day. Of course I knew that the subject of the painting was founded upon a myth; but had always been under the impression that while many of Pickett’s and a few of Pettigrew’s men were extracting the extremities of certain undergarments to be used as white flags, a part of them were keeping up a scattering fire. While before the painting a gentleman standing near me exclaimed: “Tut! I’ll agree to eat all the Yankees Pickett killed.” Entering into conversation with him I learned that he had been at Gettysburg, had fought in Gordon’s Georgia brigade, and that he did nor have a very exalted opinion of Pickett’s men. As our Georgian friend was neither remarkably large nor hungry-looking, several persons hearing his remark stared at him. That he did exaggerate to some extent is possible, for I have since heard that among the dead men in blue, near where Armistead fell, there were six who had actually been killed by musket balls.