Fighting for the Confederacy

The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander

Gary W. Gallagher, Gary W. Gallagher

• Publisher: The University of North Carolina Press
• Year: 2000
• ISBN:
  9780807882344
• Topic: Storia
• Subtopic: Storia della guerra civile americana

Originally published by UNC Press in 1989, Fighting for the Confederacy is one of the richest personal accounts in all of the vast literature on the Civil War. Alexander was involved in nearly all of the great battles of the East, from First Manassas through Appomattox, and his duties brought him into frequent contact with most of the high command of the Army of Northern Virginia, including Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and James Longstreet. No other Civil War veteran of his stature matched Alexander's ability to discuss operations in penetrating detail-- this is especially true of his description of Gettysburg. His narrative is also remarkable for its utterly candid appraisals of leaders on both sides.

Chapter 1 EARLY DAYS

I can recall vividly the occasion when I first heard the idea suggested that the Southern states would secede from the Union under certain circumstances. I think it must have been about 1848. I was a small boy, perfectly devoted to shooting & fishing, & I was the protege, in these amusements, of our excellent neighbor (in Washington, Geo.) Mr. Frank Colley, an old gentleman of 70, but not too old to start at daylight & ride 8 miles to Little River, & sit on the bank & fish all day for a single “sucker.”

On one of these expeditions, Mr. Colley told me that secession was being talked of, & I remember well the spot in the road where we were, & the pang which the idea sent through me, & my thinking that I would rather lose my gun—my dearest possession on earth—than see it happen.

Two or three years later, at an election for delegates to a state convention, Toombs ran as a Union delegate against Gartrell as a secession candidate.¹

My feelings were so much enlisted that I got into a quarrel with two of the “town” boys, Jim Hester & Ben Kappell, which came very near ruining my life.

I was told that these two had armed themselves with pistols & intended to whip me. I borrowed an old “pepper-box” revolver from our “overseer,” John Eidson, loaded it heavily, & got 6 special “Walker’s Anticorosive Caps” for the nipples, instead of the common “G. D.’s.”²

It would be too long to detail the quarrel, but, indignant at being bullied by two older & larger boys, I at last came into collision with Jim Hester. He struck me over the head with a light “skinny-stick,” breaking it. I drew my revolver &, aiming at his breast, pulled the trigger. It snapped failing to explode the cap. Hester drew a single barrel pistol, while I tried another barrel, which also snapped. This second failure made me think that the Walker caps were made of copper too thick for the hammer of my pistol, & that all six barrels would fail. At [the] same time—while he had drawn a pistol, Hester paused a moment, & made no motion to aim or fire at me. This made me pause in the very act of pulling the trigger for a third trial; for I thought that if I continued to try to shoot, it would make him shoot, & that my pistol would continue to fail on account of my thick caps while his might not. I therefore stopped pulling on the trigger & waited to see what he would do. On this other boys ran in & took both of our pistols away. Some one said to the boy who took mine, “See if that pistol is loaded.” He raised it over his head & pulled the trigger for the 3rd barrel (it was a self cocker). This time it went off loud & clear.

My father had very recently forbidden my staying at [the] play ground so as to be late at supper, & this little episode kept me until long after supper-time. My brother Charley knew that a difficulty was imminent & he hurried through supper & started out to the play ground, which was in an open lot west of the lawn in front of the house. As he left the house, he heard the report of my pistol (fired by the boy who took it from me) & ran out & met me just leaving the ground, the boys having separated Hester & myself, & started us both home.

Charley & I returned & met Father at the door. Hester’s blow had made my nose bleed, & I had gotten my face bloody from it, & in reply to my father’s rather angry questions, what was the matter, & why I was out so late, I told the whole occurrence. He was much shocked at it—so much so that I did not get the punishment I expected, & felt that I deserved. He & Mr. Hester, Jim’s father (a most excellent man) forbade us both to visit the play ground for a long time, & meanwhile Jim & I made friends.³

But gratitude to a Providence which saved me so narrowly from a calamity which would have ruined my whole life, has led me ever since to avoid & eschew politics, as too prolific of quarrels for one who, like myself, is liable to become reckless of consequences when in a passion.

From my earliest recollection I was very anxious to go to West Point but my father would never listen to it until I was about 14 years old, when two of my sisters had either married, or were about to marry, graduates of the U.S. Mil. Acad., when he gave his consent. I can still recall the occasion. He was sitting in the front porch of the old family home at Washington, Geo., one summer evening about the year 1849, talking with Lawton & Gilmer.⁴ I was in the “drawing-room” where some of my sisters were playing on the piano & singing & I had fallen asleep on the sofa, when some one, I forget who, came in from the porch calling me & I was waked & brought out on the porch. Then I was told that Father consented to my going to West Pt., provided I would promise to study hard enough to “graduate in the engineers.” I was wide awake in a moment & ready to promise anything, & from that day all my thoughts & ambitions were of the army. Gilmer drilled me a little in the manual of arms occasionally that summer & in my studies special attention was given those which were taught at West Point.

My father soon went to see [the] Hon. Robt. Toombs, one of our near neighbors, & then the member of the House of Reps, for our district in Geo.—the 8th—to get his promise of the appointment in 1851 when I would be 16. But the place was already filled by W. R. Boggs⁵ of Augusta, who would not graduate until 1853, so Mr. Toombs tried to get for me an apptmt. “at large” from the president. He nearly succeeded in 1852 but not quite—& I had to wait until Boggs graduated in 1853.

But this delay was doubtless the best thing for me in giving me better preparation & maturer mind, for I was only 18 in May ’53 a few days before I entered as a cadet.

My father had been at great pains not only about my education but that of all of his children. When his four oldest daughters were growing up he brought out Miss Sarah Brackett from Mass. She came in March 1835 & stayed 8 years as a teacher for them, & it resulted in a large & prosperous “Seminary” under her control with a considerable corps of teachers all from the North, & scholars from all over the state. When the four boys came on next, he brought out several male teachers, of whom Mr. Russell M. Wright of Easthampton Mass., & Dr. A. M. Scudder (who moved to Athens & lived there all his life) were the most prominent. Scudder preceded Wright. I was under S. for only a year or two, & most of my education was under Mr. Wright, who lived & taught in Washington until the war when he had to return north, & still lives, I believe (1894), in Castleton, Vt.⁶

There is little to be said of my boyhood. I was passionately fond of shooting & fishing & my friendship with two old gentlemen, growing from this fondness, was a great source of amusement to my older sisters. They were Mr. Frank Colley, with whom I went fishing, & Mr. James Dyson, with whom I went hunting. My school intimates were Zeb & Dempsey Colley (sons of Mr. Frank C.; & Dempsey [was] killed in the war at Fredbg.), Ned Anthony, Henry Andrews & Garnett A., & Wylie & Jimmy DuBose (Wylie [was] killed in [the] Seven Days at Richmond [in] 1862).⁷

My father had two plantations—one in Liberty Co., Geo. (“Hopewell”), a rice & Sea Island Cotton place, near Riceboro; & the home place in Washington. There were about forty to 50 Negroes—little & big on each place.⁸ They were all looked after by him & my mother as if they were children. Their clothes were all cut out & made up by the women under my mother’s supervision, & she also taught all the young ones in Sunday afternoon “Sabbath-school.” Provisions for the whole year were generally made on the plantations, & “hog killing” & curing was the event of the winter. If he had not raised enough hogs of his own, my father would buy from ten to thirty, from “droves” which were brought down from Kentucky & Tennessee by hundreds—driven slowly & kept fat on the way. As the most humane way of killing them, I was usually allowed to stay at home & shoot them with a rifle.⁹ A cold day was of course selected for the killing, a large fire of logs 6 to 8 feet long built up with about forty large stones in among the logs, & a big hogshead, in an inclining position at the end of a platform, held the water to scald the hair off, preparatory to cleaning them. [Figure 1 appears here in the manuscript.] The hot rocks from the fire put in the water, & taken out when cold, with a hoe soon had the water boiling. When cleaned & opened the hogs were hung up on the “sawpit” timbers & let hang all night watched by one or two men sleeping by the big fire & cooking livers &c. all night. [Figure 2 appears here in the manuscript.] About 30 or 40 hogs made a “killing” & there would be two or three every winter. All hands were at work making lard, sausages, spare ribs, hogs head cheese, jowls, “cracklings” &c. &c.

Figures 1 and 2. Hogshead and platform; Hogs on “sawpit” timbers

Of the servants on the Washington place I remember Adam, the lame shoemaker; Jack Ryans, the carpenter (& an excellent one), his wife Morots, the cook, & his children William, Stephen & Joel—all carpenters—James the driver, Tom, who succeeded his mother as cook—who died during the war—& Mary, who was sold at her own request to go with her husband—I don’t remember where finally, but first to a Mr. Cozart; Charles, an old but very faithful man-about-lot & his family—his wife Sukey, daughters Margaret, sold to go to Milledgeville with her husband, Eliza, Maria & Caroline, house girls, [and] son Jim; Old Bob & his wife Dilsey, super-annuated—who lived near the “big poplar”; Harry the gardener & his family—wife Rhina, sons July & Jacob, daughters Fanny [and] Hester. Then there was Emanuel the foreman at the plantation, wife Kitty, children Jane & Jerry. Then I remember but forget families & relationships [of] Lewis, deaf & a sort of blacksmith, Old Abram, Mercer, Little Johnnie, Mom Peggie, & several young ones growing up when I left home in 1853 for West Point. There was also a regular semptress Mary Ann & a regular washwoman Mary¹⁰ & her daughter Sally.

Miss Sarah Brackett finally married Rev. Nehemiah Adams, a Presbyterian minister of Boston, Mass., & being in bad health came out & spent a winter with my father sometime in the fifties after the publication of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Dr. A. on his return north wrote a book (intended as a sort of reply I think to Uncle Tom) called “A South-side view of Slavery,”¹¹ which caused him some trouble with some of his friends at home.

Cadet Life

The winter of 1852 & 1853 I spent in Savh. taking lessons in French & drawing & staying with the Lawtons on South Broad St. In May ’53 I started from Washn., Geo., for West Point, by rail via Augusta, Branchville, Wilmington, Weldon, Richmond, Aquia Creek, Washn. City, &c., taking 3½ days to the trip & stopping in N. Y. at [the] Astor House, then the fashionable hotel. I visited cousin John Hillhouse near Troy, N. Y., & entered at West Point with Bob Anderson from Savh. about June 12th.

At my examination for admission I measured 5’ 9½” barefoot & weighed about 150. My first room mates were Bob Anderson & Dick Meade from Petersburg, until we went into camp. In camp my tent mates were Tom Berry from Newnan, Geo., Dick Brewer from Annapolis, Md., & ______ Burnet from N. Y., who only remained a cadet until next January when he was found deficient. When we went into barracks in Sep. I was put in Co. D & roomed in Div. No. 7, Room 19 with Lawrence Kip from Albany, son of Bishop Kip of Cal. The Kips are related to our Hillhouse kin. Kip resigned at the approach of the June examination [in] 1854. In my 3rd class year I was a corporal in Co. B & roomed with C. H. Morgan of N. Y. a very good fellow.¹² My father & mother visited me during encampment in [the] summer of ’54 & mother was ill for some weeks in a room on [the] 2nd floor of [the] east wing of Roe’s Hotel, & my last sight of her dear face was there when she was able to be taken off. But she would not let me come the last morning to say good-bye. She died Feb. 28, 1855.

I came home on furlough in June ’55 & stayed till Aug. 20th. During it I visited Cliff¹³ in Athens at the Asbury Halls & went on a trip to Madison Springs & Toccoa & Tallulah Falls. In the party were Jack Church,¹⁴ who had just graduated at West Pt., & his two sisters Mrs. Craig & Miss Annie Church, Jimmie Hull & Mrs. Rucker, whom he afterward married, & also Miss Cara Lucas, now Mrs. Hallonquist, a Miss Maria Heath from Richmond & several others whose names I cannot recall. I was much smitten with [the] charms of Miss Annie C. but it so happened that she did not reciprocate them & I never saw her again. She married a Whitner & died in Anderson, S. C., leaving a large family.

On my return to West Point I was made orderly sergt. of Co. D & roomed with Bob Anderson in [the] 2nd story, south west room, Division 7. Bob was sergt. major.

I remember my roll-call yet—all but the 4 corporals, thus: Sergts. Kimmell, Quattlebaum, Claflin; Corporals Sloan & 3 others whose names are forgotten; Privates Bacon, Bailey, Beck, Berry, Bevill, Brewer, Chamberlain, Coontz, Claflin, Cunningham, Enos, Ferguson, Gibbes, Gilmer, Holt, Hopkins, Ives, Johnson, Kennedy, Kerr, Laramie, Lee F., Lorain, Lyon, McFarland, Marmaduke, Mills, Mishler, Morgan, Napier, Parker, Ramseur, Randol, Ricketts, Rugg, Sanders W., Smith A., Stivers, Sweet, Tabor, Talbot, Taylor, Thomas, Vanderbilt, White R., Williams.¹⁵

As I write these names every one calls up a face & almost every one a story. Many of the stories, too, are tragedies—ending in death on the battlefield, one of which, that of Sanders W., will be told when I reach in my narrative the siege of Knoxville in Nov. 1863, when it happened that I with two regts. of infantry & a battery attacked a brigade of cavalry commanded by Sanders, & he was killed.

But one of these stories had even a darker end than one on the battlefield, & I will tell it here as it has no place in my narrative. It has never been published, & no story I have ever known has appealed more deeply to my sympathy. And I doubt if any one now living even recalls poor Kennedy’s memory as often as I.

He was from Louisiana—I don’t know what part—nor can I recall now his first name or initials, but he was a quiet modest fellow, with bluish gray eyes, neutral colored hair & a pleasant oval face & medium height & build. I don’t know how hard he studied, but he was one of a large lot who were found deficient in Jan. 7, 1855, & were sent off.

When the war broke out Kennedy was in our western army somewhere & he was taken prisoner, but managed to escape from the Northern prison where he was confined & got across to Canada.

While there he joined in a wild, absurd, & utterly indefensible scheme to burn N. Y. City gotten up by some Confederate refugees there—on their own responsibility & without any authority or countenance from Confederate authority. Kennedy & one or two others went to N. Y., & on a certain day Kennedy started a fire in Barnum’s Museum on Broadway not far from the Astor House & the others started fires in one or two hotels. All of the fires were soon discovered & extinguished, but it was known that they were a Confederate effort to burn the city & large rewards were offered for those concerned in it. Kennedy had made his escape back to Canada & stayed at Niagara Falls. Some detective went there & managed to get into his confidence & roomed with him & at last persuaded Kennedy one day to walk across the suspension bridge with him. He had officers on the lookout with warrants & no sooner did poor Kennedy set foot on U.S. soil than he was arrested.

He was tried, sentenced & hung in old Fort Lafayette. The poor fellow tried to keep up his courage by jocularly asking old Col. Munroe in command of the Fort for a drink as he was led to the gallows & by singing a drinking song as the halter was placed about his neck.¹⁶

During my last year, June ’56 to ’57, I was captain of Co. D & occupied the tower room of Div. 8 with Tom Baylor¹⁷ for [a] roommate, who was cadet quartermaster.

Utah Expedition

I graduated in ’57, 3rd in my class & was made brevet 2nd It. of engineers. After 3 mos. furlough I was ordered back to West Point as It. of Co. A engineer troops & asst. instructor of practical military engineering.

In the fall of 1857 Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston started to Utah Territory with troops to install Gov. Cumming as governor; the Mormons, who had previously had Brigham Young for governor, having refused to recognise as govr. or receive anyone else.¹⁸ Gen. Johnston got as far as Fort Bridger 100 miles east of Salt Lake & was compelled to go into winter quarters; the Mormons having fortified & obstructed the passes in the Wahsatch Mountains & having also captured & burned some of the provision trains sent out to supply him, by the contr...