THE WILDERNESS

*****

“Major-General J. M. Schofield,“Knoxville, Tennessee:“I deem it of the utmost importance to drive Longstreet out immediately, so as to furlough the balance of our veterans, and to prepare for a spring campaign of our own choosing, instead of permitting the enemy to dictate it for us. Thomas is ordered to start ten thousand men, besides the remainder of Granger’s corps, at once. He will take no artillery, but will take his artillery horses, and three mules to one hundred men. He will probably start next Monday.“U. S. Grant,“Major-General.”

“Major-General J. M. Schofield,“Knoxville, Tennessee:

“I deem it of the utmost importance to drive Longstreet out immediately, so as to furlough the balance of our veterans, and to prepare for a spring campaign of our own choosing, instead of permitting the enemy to dictate it for us. Thomas is ordered to start ten thousand men, besides the remainder of Granger’s corps, at once. He will take no artillery, but will take his artillery horses, and three mules to one hundred men. He will probably start next Monday.

“U. S. Grant,“Major-General.”

How General Grant abandoned the move against Longstreet, while Longstreet kept Schofield bottled up all through that trying winter in his works about Knoxville, is old history.

The Confederate government finally abandoned the plan of occupying East Tennessee, and on the 7th of April Longstreet was ordered, with the part of his command that had originally served with the Army of Northern Virginia, to join General Lee on the Rapidan.

I have gone thus far into the East Tennessee campaigns for the pleasure it gives me to reproduce the following resolutions passed by the Confederate Congress during General Longstreet’s arduous work in the winter of 1863–64:

“No. 42. Joint Resolutions of Thanks to Lieutenant-General Longstreet and the officers and men of his command.“Resolved by the Congress of the Confederate States of America, That the thanks of the Congress are due, and hereby cordially tendered, to Lieutenant-General James Longstreet and the officers and men of his command, for their patriotic services and brilliant achievements in the present war, sharing as they have the arduous fatigues and privations of many campaigns in Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Tennessee, and participating in nearly every great battle fought in those States, the commanding general ever displaying great ability, skill, and prudence in command, and the officers and men the most heroic bravery, fortitude, and energy, in every duty they have been called upon to perform.“Resolved, That the President be requested to transmit a copy of the foregoing resolutions to Lieutenant-General Longstreet for publication to his command.“Approved February 17, 1864.”

“No. 42. Joint Resolutions of Thanks to Lieutenant-General Longstreet and the officers and men of his command.

“Resolved by the Congress of the Confederate States of America, That the thanks of the Congress are due, and hereby cordially tendered, to Lieutenant-General James Longstreet and the officers and men of his command, for their patriotic services and brilliant achievements in the present war, sharing as they have the arduous fatigues and privations of many campaigns in Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Tennessee, and participating in nearly every great battle fought in those States, the commanding general ever displaying great ability, skill, and prudence in command, and the officers and men the most heroic bravery, fortitude, and energy, in every duty they have been called upon to perform.

“Resolved, That the President be requested to transmit a copy of the foregoing resolutions to Lieutenant-General Longstreet for publication to his command.

“Approved February 17, 1864.”

The Wilderness is a forest land about fifteen miles square, lying between and equidistant from Orange Court-House and Fredericksburg. It is broken occasionally by small farms and abandoned clearings, and two roads,—the Orange Plank Road and the turnpike, which are cut at right angles by the Germania road,—in general course nearly parallel, open ways through it between Fredericksburg and the Court-House. The Germania Ford road joins the Brock road, the strategic line of the military zone, and crosses the turnpike at Wilderness Tavern and the plank road about two miles south of that point.

General Grant was making his head-quarters near the Army of the Potomac, in Culpeper County, Virginia, commanded by Major-General George G. Meade. The aggregate of the Federal command was about one hundred and thirty thousand men.

The Army of Northern Virginia was on the west side of the Rapidan River. Its total number at the beginning of the campaign was then put by Colonel Taylor, chief of staff, at about sixty-four thousand.

However, the numerical strength of the armies did not decide the merits of the campaign. The commanders on both sides had chosen their ground after mature deliberation. They knew of each other’s numbers and resources, and made their plans accordingly. A number of their respective leaders had known each other personally for more than twenty years. They had the undivided support and confidence of their governments and their armies. General Lee was as always the trusted leader of the Confederates; General Grant by his three years’ service in the West had become known as an all-round soldier seldom if ever surpassed. GeneralLongstreet, who thought most highly of General Grant from every stand-point, always said that the biggest part of him was his heart.

In this case General Grant had no fixed plan of campaign except to avoid the strong defensive line occupied by General Lee, and to draw him out to open battle.

General Lee’s orders were against a general engagement until the Federal forces should attack, but in the midst of varied manœuvrings the battle was begun in half a dozen quarters before either commanding general had expected it. Hancock advanced before sunrise ready for battle, just as Longstreet’s command, which had come up from Mechanicsville, reported to General Lee. Longstreet’s line was formed along the right and left of the plank road, Kershaw on the right, Field on the left. Hancock’s musketry was doing considerable damage to the forces in front, and as Longstreet’s lines were forming the men broke files to give free passage for their comrades to the rear. The advancing fire was getting brisk, but not a shot was fired in return by Longstreet’s troops until the divisions were ready. Three of Field’s brigades were formed in the line of the left, and three of Kershaw’s on the right. The advance of the six brigades was ordered, and Hancock’s lines, thinned by their previous fighting and weaker than the fresh men now coming against them, were checked and pushed back to their intrenched lines. Then the fighting became steady and firm.

THE WOUNDING OF GENERAL LONGSTREET AT THE WILDERNESS, MAY 6, 1864.

Finally Hancock’s line began to break. As they retreated and the Confederates advanced, a fire was started in the dry leaves and began to spread. The Confederate forces, in spite of the fire, moved on. As the battle waged, General Wadsworth, who was gallantly leading a division of the Federal forces, fell mortally wounded, and there was then a general breakin the Union line. Jenkins’s brigade was conspicuous among the Confederates in pursuit. Jenkins exclaimed to those around him, “I am happy; I have felt despair of the cause for some months, but am relieved, and feel assured that we will put the enemy back across the Rapidan before night.” A few minutes later he fell mortally wounded. In the general mêlée Longstreet was leading in advance of his troops, and in the midst of close firing was shot by his own men. This caused the Confederate lines to slow up in their advance. Orders were given General Field by Longstreet to push on before the enemy could have time to rally, but in the midst of the general confusion, General Lee ordered the broken lines to be reformed, and the advantage already gained was not followed up.

General Field, in his subsequent account of the day,said,—

“I was at Longstreet’s side in a moment, and in answer to my anxious inquiry as to his condition, he replied that he would be looked after by others, and directed me to take command of the corps and push on. Though at this moment he could not have known the extent or character of his wounds (that they were severe was apparent), he seemed to forget himself in the absorbing interest of the movement he was making.“Had our advance not been suspended by this disaster, I have always believed that Grant would have been driven across the Rapidan before night; but General Lee was present, and ordered that our line, which was nearly a right angle, should first be straightened out. The difficulty of manœuvring through the brush made this a tedious operation, so that when we did advance with large reinforcements from Ewell’s Corps placed under my orders, the enemy was found awaiting us behind new breastworks, thoroughly prepared.”

“Had our advance not been suspended by this disaster, I have always believed that Grant would have been driven across the Rapidan before night; but General Lee was present, and ordered that our line, which was nearly a right angle, should first be straightened out. The difficulty of manœuvring through the brush made this a tedious operation, so that when we did advance with large reinforcements from Ewell’s Corps placed under my orders, the enemy was found awaiting us behind new breastworks, thoroughly prepared.”

In a letter touching this subject to General Longstreet, Colonel Fairfaxsaid,—

“On reaching the line of troops you were taken off the horse and propped against a tree. You blew the bloody foam from your mouth and said, ‘Tell General Field to take command, and move forward with the whole force and gain the Brock road,’ but meantime hours were lost.”

A NorthernhistorianHsaid, on the samepoint,—

“It seemed indeed that irretrievable disaster was upon us; but in the very torrent and tempest of the attack it suddenly ceased and all was still. What could cause this surcease of effort at the very height of success was then wholly unknown to us.”

Some years after, General Hancock said to GeneralLongstreet,—

“You rolled me up like a wet blanket, and it was some hours before I could reorganize the battle.”

In discussing the war, General Longstreet always dwelt with peculiar tenderness on the last days that culminated with the surrender at Appomattox. His mental belief for two years before the surrender was that from the very nature of the situation the Union forces would in all probability finally triumph, but his brave heart never knew how to give up the fight, and the surrender was at last agreed upon while he was still protesting against it.

The incident is well known of a number of the leading Confederate generals, who, having decided that further resistance was useless, went to General Lee and suggested surrender upon the best terms that could be had as the wisest thing to do. General Longstreet declinedto join with them. General Pendleton was spokesman for the party. His account of the conference is thus related by General A. L. Long in his Memoirs of Lee:

“General Lee was lying on the ground. No others heard the conversation between him and myself. He received my communication with the reply, ‘Oh, no; I trust that it has not come to that,’ and added, ‘General, we have yet too many bold men to think of laying down our arms. The enemy do not fight with spirit, while our boys do. Besides, if I were to say a word to the Federal commander, he would regard it as such a confession of weakness as to make it the condition of demanding an unconditional surrender, a proposal to which I will never listen.... I have never believed we could, against the gigantic combination for our subjugation, make good, in the long run, our independence, unless some foreign power should, directly or indirectly, assist us.... But such considerations really make with me no difference. We had, I am satisfied, sacred principles to maintain, and rights to defend, for which we were in duty bound to do our best, even if we perished in the endeavor.’“Such were, as nearly as I can recall them, the exact words of General Lee on that most pitiful occasion. You see in them the soul of the man. Where his conscience dictated and his judgment decided, there his heart was.”

“Such were, as nearly as I can recall them, the exact words of General Lee on that most pitiful occasion. You see in them the soul of the man. Where his conscience dictated and his judgment decided, there his heart was.”

No words of eulogy show up so clearly the characters of Lee and likewise of Grant as their own direct words and deeds. On the evening of April 7, 1865, General Grant wrote General Lee as follows:

“The results of the last week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of that portion of the Confederate army known as the Army of Northern Virginia.”

General Longstreet was with General Lee when he received this note. It was handed to General Longstreet without a word. After reading it General Longstreet handed it back, saying, “Not yet.” General Lee replied to General Grant that same evening:

“I have received your note of this day. Though not entertaining the opinion you express on the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia, I reciprocate your desire to avoid useless effusion of blood, and therefore, before considering your proposition, ask the terms you will offer on condition of its surrender.”

While this correspondence was pending, both armies, under the respective directions of Grant and of Lee, continued their preparations for battle as if there was no thought of cessation. The next day, April 8, General Grant wrote General Lee as follows:

“Your note of last evening, in reply to mine of the same date asking the conditions on which I will accept surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, is just received. In reply I would say that, peace being my great desire, there is but one condition I would insist upon,—namely, that the men and officers surrendered shall be disqualified for taking up arms again against the United States government until properly exchanged. I will meet you, or will designate officers to meet any officers you might name for the same purpose, at any point agreeable to you, for the purpose of arranging definitely the terms upon which the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia will be received.”

To this General Lee replied, under the same date:

“I received at a late hour your note of to-day. In mine of yesterday I did not intend to propose the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, but to ask the terms of your proposition. To be frank, I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender of this army, but as the restoration to peaceshould be the sole object of all, I desired to know whether your proposals would lead to that end. I cannot, therefore, meet you with a view to the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia; but as far as your proposal may affect the Confederate States forces under my command and tend to the restoration of peace, I should be pleased to meet you at tenA.M.to-morrow on the old stage road to Richmond, between the picket-lines of the two armies.”

That night General Lee spread his couch about a hundred feet from the saddle and blanket that were General Longstreet’s pillow for the night, and it is not probable that either had a more comfortable bed than the other. Of the early hours of the next day, the last day of active existence of the Army of Northern Virginia, Colonel Venable, of General Lee’s staff, has written a touching account, which is published in General Long’s “Memoirs of General Lee.” When further resistance seemed useless, he quoted General Lee assaying,—

“Then there is nothing left me but to go and see General Grant, and I would rather die a thousand deaths.”

Many were the wild words of passionate grief spoken by the officers around him. Said one, “Oh, General, what would history say of the surrender of the army in the field?” According to Colonel Venable, General Lee replied, “Yes, I know they will say hard things of us; they will not understand how we are overwhelmed with numbers. But that is not the question; the question is, Is it right to surrender this army? If it is right, then I will take all the responsibility.”

Presently General Lee called General Longstreet to ride forward with him. He said that the advance columns stood against a very formidable force which he could not break through, while General Meade was at Longstreet’s rear ready to call for all the work that therear guard could do. He added that it did not seem possible for him to make further successful resistance. General Longstreet asked if the sacrifice of his army could benefit the cause in other quarters. He thought not. Then, said Longstreet, “The situation speaks for itself.” Several other leading generals were consulted, and all of them held the same view.

Meanwhile, the Federal forces appeared plainly to be preparing for attack. The Confederates continued work on their lines of defence. General Longstreet ordered parts of the rear guard forward to support the advance forces, and directed General E. P. Alexander to establish them with part of his batteries in the best position for support or rallying line in case the front lines were forced back.

Thus the last line of battle formed in the Army of Northern Virginia was by the invincible First Corps, twice conqueror of empire!

GENERAL ALEXANDER ARRANGING THE LAST LINE OF BATTLE FORMED IN THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA.

In talking over the delicate situation, General Lee told General Longstreet that he feared his refusal to meet General Grant’s proposition might cause him to demand harsh terms. General Longstreet assured him that he knew General Grant well enough to be certain that the best terms possible would be given—even such terms as he himself would be willing to give a gallant foe under similar circumstances. How true this estimate proved all the world now knows.

He lies in state, while by his flag-draped bierPass the long ranks of men who wore the gray—Men who heard shriek of shot and shell unmoved—Sobbing like children o’er the lifeless clay.Through the fair South the heroes whom he ledAgainst the blue lines in the stricken fieldMuse on the days ere Appomattox wrenchedThe laurel wreath from Dixie’s shattered shield.The glories of Manassas, Chancellorsville,And all the triumphs those gray legions gainedSeem gathered in a shadowy host besideThat casket and those colors battle-stained!While in the frozen North the men who stroveAgainst his squadrons, bartering blow for blow,Bow silvered heads, exclaiming lovingly,“May he rest well! He was a noble foe!”Genius and courage equally were his—He fought in cause his heart maintained as right,And when the sword clanked in the rusted sheathHe murmured not against the losing fight,But made endeavor, with a loyal soul,To heal the wounds the years of strife had wrought—And in the fields of peace more glories wonThan in the battles his gray warriors fought!—W. A. P., in Chicago Journal.

—W. A. P., in Chicago Journal.

James Longstreet was born in Edgefield District, South Carolina, January 8, 1821, son of James and Mary Ann (Dent) Longstreet, and a descendant of the Longstreets and Randolphs of New Jersey and the Dents and Marshalls of Maryland and Virginia. Richard Longstreet, progenitor of the name in America, settled in Monmouth County, New Jersey.

James Longstreet, subject of this sketch, removed with his parents to Alabama in 1831, from which State he received his appointment to West Point, and was graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1842. He was promoted in the army as brevet second lieutenant of the Fourth Infantry, July 1, 1842, and served in garrison at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, 1842–44; on frontier duty at Natchitoches, Louisiana, 1844–45; was promoted second lieutenant of the Eighth Infantry, March 4, 1845; was in military occupation of Texas, 1845–46, and served in the war with Mexico, 1846–47. He participated in the battle of Palo Alto; May 8, 1846; the battle of Resaca de la Palma, May 9, 1846; was promoted first lieutenant Eighth Infantry, February 23, 1847, and participated in the siege of Vera Cruz, March 9–29, 1847; the battle of Cerro Gordo, April 17 and 18, 1847; the capture of San Antonio and the battle of Churubusco, August 20, 1847; the battle of Molino del Rey, September 8, 1847; the storming of Chepultepec, September 13, 1847, where he was severely wounded in the assault on the fortified convent. He was brevetted captain, August 20, 1847, “for gallant and meritorious conduct in the battles of Churubusco and Contreras,” and major, September 8, 1847, “for gallant and meritorious conduct at the battle of Molino del Rey.” He served as adjutant of the Eighth Infantry, 1847–49; was in garrison at Jefferson Barracks, 1848–49; and served on frontier duty in Texas in 1849. He was chief of Commissariat of the Department of Texas, 1849–51, and served on scouting duty in Texas, Kansas, and New Mexico, 1851–61. He was promoted captain, December 7, 1852, andmajor of staff and paymaster July 19, 1858. He resigned his commission in 1861 and was appointed brigadier-general in the Confederate States army, and commanded a brigade at Blackburn’s Ford, Virginia, from July 18 to and including July 21, 1861. He was promoted major-general and commanded the rear guard of Joseph E. Johnston’s army during the retreat from Yorktown, Virginia. He commanded the Confederate forces in the field, composed of his own and part of D. H. Hill’s division and Stuart’s cavalry brigade, at the battle of Williamsburg, May 5, 1862; commanded the right wing of Johnston’s army at Seven Pines, May 31 and June 1, 1862; his own and A. P. Hill’s division, in the Seven Days’ Battle before Richmond; and commanded the right wing of Lee’s army of Northern Virginia in the second battle of Bull Run, August 29 and 30, 1862; and in the Maryland campaign, September, 1862; the First Corps (Confederate left) at the battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862. He was on duty south of the James River in April, 1863, and was ordered to rejoin General Lee at Chancellorsville, Virginia, but Lee, without awaiting his return made precipitate battle May 2 to 4, 1863. He commanded the right wing of the Army of Northern Virginia at Gettysburg July 1 to 3, 1863. He served under General Bragg in the Army of the Tennessee, and commanded the left wing of that army, composed of Hindman’s division, Polk’s corps, Buckner’s corps, and two divisions and artillery of Longstreet’s corps, at the battle of Chickamauga, September 19 and 20, 1863. He was sent with part of his corps and Wheeler’s cavalry against Burnside’s army in East Tennessee, in November, with orders to recover possession of that part of the State. He drove Burnside back into his works around Knoxville, and held him there under siege from November 17 to December 4, 1863, when Sherman approached with twenty thousand of Grant’s army, near Chattanooga, for relief of the besieged army. Bragg ordered precipitate attack of the fortifications, but they were too strong to be carried by assault. Just then orders came from President Davis for Longstreet to return to Bragg’s army in distress at Chattanooga. Longstreet held his army in possession of East Tennessee, keepingthe Federal forces close about their works, until January, 1864, when he was ordered to withdraw towards General Lee’s army in Virginia, and he participated in the battle of the Wilderness, May 5 and 6, 1864, when he commanded the two divisions of the First Corps forming the right of Lee’s army, and was severely wounded. After convalescing he participated in all the engagements of the Army of Northern Virginia in 1864. He commanded the First Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia from the date of its organization until surrendered by General Lee at Appomattox Court-House, Virginia, April 9, 1865. He was called the hardest fighter in the Confederate army, and the fairest military critics of the century have estimated his military genius as second to no commander in the Confederate States service.

He removed to New Orleans and engaged in commerce immediately after the surrender. He was Surveyor of Customs of the Port of New Orleans, 1869; Supervisor of Internal Revenue, 1878; Postmaster at Gainesville, Georgia, 1879, and was appointed by President Hayes United States Minister to Turkey, serving 1880. He was United States Marshal of the Northern District of Georgia, in 1881, and was appointed United States Commissioner of Railroads by President McKinley in October, 1897, serving until the date of his death in 1904.

On the 8th day of March, 1848, at Lynchburg, Virginia, he was married to Marie Louise Garland, daughter of General John Garland, U.S.A., of a noted Virginia family, hero of two wars. Mrs. Longstreet died at Gainesville, Georgia, December 29, 1889.

On the fiftieth anniversary of the battle of Molino del Rey, September 8, 1897, at the Executive Mansion in Atlanta, Georgia, he was married to Helen Dortch, daughter of the late Colonel James S. Dortch, a brilliant Georgia lawyer, of a distinguished North Carolina family.

General Longstreet died at Gainesville, Georgia, January 2, 1904, and was buried at Alta Vista Cemetery, that place, with military honors, January 6.

Gainesville, Georgia, January 6, 1904.

The funeral of General James Longstreet, which was held at eleven o’clock to-day at the county court-house, was the most impressive ceremonial ever held in Gainesville. Several thousand people gathered in and around the court-house, and when the guards threw open the doors to the public just preceding the service, which occurred in the main court-room instead of in the rotunda as originally intended, there was a great crush, though every endeavor was made to handle the vast throng with every possible ease. Only a few minutes were consumed in filling every available seat, and outside there appeared to be absolutely no diminution in the size of the crowd.

A few moments before twelve o’clock, the active pall-bearers bore the casket up the stairway from the rotunda, where it had lain in state from two o’clock yesterday, and placed it in position just in front of the judge’s rostrum. It was banked in a profusion of exquisite floral offerings, many of which came from out-of-town Confederate camps, other organizations, and from personal friends. Across the head and foot were thrown a Confederate and a United States flag, and standing near was the handsome silk flag of the Candler Horse Guards.

If any should doubt that the people among whom the General lived did not love him and revere his memory, this doubt would have been dispelled to-day if they had seen the demonstration over his casket as the last sad rites were being said. Not a business house in town was open, everything in the city closing tight their doors from the beginning of the funeral until after the body was placed to rest in Alta Vista Cemetery. From every quarter the people came and upon every lip there was praise of the immortal deeds of the great Confederate commander.

As the body was being placed in position, Bishop Keiley, Father Schadewell, of Albany, and Father Gunn, of Sacred Heart Church, Atlanta, emerged from the judge’s privatechambers on the left and were escorted to a position in front of the casket. The burial service of the Roman Catholic Church was conducted by the Right Rev. Bishop Keiley, of Savannah; Father Schadewell, of Albany, and Dr. Gunn, of the Sacred Heart Church, of Atlanta. Father Schadewell read the liturgical Latin service, then gave the same in English. Some of the beautiful prayers are given elsewhere.

After reading the service and the blessing of the remains the right reverend bishop, who himself had served as a soldier from 1860 to 1864 in the Confederate army under Longstreet, spoke as follows:

“Had it pleased God that the cause which met defeat at Appomattox eight and thirty years ago had been crowned with that success for which both its justice and the singular devotedness of its defenders had given us right and warrant to hope, a far different scene had been witnessed here to-day. It might have been that Federal as well as State authorities had met to pay a merited tribute to this dead hero, who valiantly sustained on many a bloody field the imperishable principles of the right of self-government.

“Had it pleased God to spare the precious lives of those of his companions in arms who have passed over the river, then we had seen the peerless Lee, the brave Johnston, and the dashing Hampton sharing our grief and mingling their tears with ours over the remains of the soldier whom Lee loved. Is there e’en a suggestion of irreverence in the thought which would people this hall with the dauntless spirits of our dead?

“Having met defeat in an unequal struggle and having loyally accepted the results of that struggle; having devoted our time and scanty means to the upbuilding of our loved land; having been blessed by a merciful God beyond our dreams or deserts, we lay aside our tasks to-day for awhile to recall the glories of our past and to tell of the valor of one who fought and bled for us.

“The foeman need not frown,They are all powerless now;We gather here and we lay them down,And tears and prayers are the only crownWe bring to wreathe each brow.

“Having passed the span which Providence ordinarily allots as the term of human life, General James Longstreet has answered the roll-call of the great God.

“What a brilliant page in history is filled with his grand career. Born more than eighty years ago in the neighboring State of South Carolina, he entered West Point in his seventeenth year and graduated therefrom in his twenty-first. He served with marked distinction in the Mexican War and was more than once complimented for his gallant conduct and merited and received promotion.

“When the Southern States withdrew from the Union by reason of attacks on their reserved rights which were guaranteed by the Constitution, and were forced into the war between the States, James Longstreet offered his services and sword to the cause of self-government. No history of the war may be written which does not bear emblazoned on every page the story of his deeds. Why need I recount them here? Assuredly no one will question the gross impropriety of discussing incidents of the career of Longstreet during the war which have been the subject of criticism by some.

“We who knew him forty-odd years ago; we who shared his convictions and in humble ways bore a part in the good cause; we know what a tower of strength Longstreet was to the noblest knight who has graced tented field since the peerless Bayard passed from earth,—Robert E. Lee; we feel and know to-day that neither boundless praise nor fullest words of gratitude can exaggerate the worth of James Longstreet or pay him what we owe.

“By what I deem is a peculiarly fortunate coincidence, we are committing his remains to the tomb on a day when the Catholic Church commemorates the manifestation of our Saviour to the Gentiles in the persons of the wise men, who, led by a star, came from their distant homes to Bethlehem. The Bible tells us that they found the Child and Mary, His Mother. God has sent stars which have been beacon-lights on our pathway through the world, though in their gleaming we have foolishly failed at times to see the guiding hand of a merciful Providence. Joy and sorrow, sickness, and even death have been stars which should have led us nearer and nearer to God.

“It is my duty as a priest of God to call your attention to the obvious lesson of this occasion,—the vanity of mere earthly greatness and the certainty of death and the necessity of preparation for it. James Longstreet was a brave soldier, a gallant gentleman, but better still—a consistent Christian. After the war between the States he became a member of the Catholic Church, and to his dying day remained faithful to her teaching and loyal to her creed.

“Deep down in the heart and breast of every man when touched by the correcting hand of God there is a longing for some means of communicating with loved ones who have been taken from us by death. Oh that we might reach them or tell them of our love or do something for them!

“In that familiar profession of faith, which comes down to us even from the days of the immediate followers of the Master, there is a clause which brings comfort to the afflicted heart of the sorrowing and answers the longings of the grief-stricken. It is that solemn profession of our belief in the communion of saints.

“To the Catholic heart it tells of a golden chain of intercession longer than the ladder of the patriarch and reaching from the cold dead clods of earth even to the great throne of God; a golden chain which links and binds together the children of God here and above; a brilliant and mystic tie which binds and unites the blessed ones who now see God in heaven to us who yet labor and wait in this vale of tears. It tells us of their interest in our salvation and their prayers in our behalf. But it brings yet more solace and comfort to aching hearts when it soothes the grief of those who are in doubt as to the dead who have had their garments soiled with the warfare of this world and have left it not prepared to meet that God before whom scarce the angels are pure; for it tells, too, that even we may aid by our prayers those who are yet in the communion of saints.

“The last words of Mother Church have been said for James Longstreet. Softly and tenderly they fall on every Christian ear, for the children of the Church they have a deeper meaning.

“May his soul rest in peace. Amen.”

This concluded the funeral services and the body was bornefrom the court-house to the hearse by the active pall-bearers. The procession then formed in the following order: Queen City Band, Candler Horse Guards, and Governor’s Horse Guards, honorary escort; hearse with pall-bearers, family and relatives, Confederate Veterans, Daughters of the Confederacy, mayor and council and county officers, Brenau College, Children of the Confederacy, citizens and public generally. The procession moved up North Bradford Street to Spring Street, out Spring Street to Grove, down Grove to West Broad, thence Broad to Alta Vista Cemetery.

Father Schadewell accompanied the remains to the cemetery, where a short service was held, the crowd baring their heads when the following prayer was read:

“Almighty and most merciful Father, who knowest the weakness of our nature, bow down thine ear in pity unto Thy servants upon whom Thou hast laid the heavy burden of sorrow. Take away out of their hearts the spirit of rebellion and teach them to see Thy good and gracious purpose working in all the trials which Thou dost send upon them. Grant that they may not languish in fruitless and unavailing grief, nor sorrow as those who have no hope, but meekly look up to Thee, the God of all consolation, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

“Grant, O Lord, that whilst we lament the departure of our brother, Thy servant, out of the life, we may bear in mind that we are most certainly to follow him. Give us grace to make ready for that last hour by a devout and holy life and protect us against a sudden and unprovided death. Teach us how to watch and pray that when the summons comes we may go forth to meet the bridegroom and enter with him into life everlasting, through Christ our Lord. Amen. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.”

A volley was then fired over the grave of the dead leader by the Candler Horse Guards and a detachment from the Governor’s Horse Guards, under command of Colonel A. J. West, and Captain W. N. Pillow, taps were sounded, and the grave closed over one of the greatest warriors the world has ever known.

*****

Pathetic Scenes Marked the Interment of Lee’s “Old War-Horse.”

With muffled drums and the flag that was furledWith the cause that was lost, when the last smoke curledFrom the last old gun, at the last brave stand—His soul marched on with the old command;And the step was slow, as they bore away,To await the eternal muster day,Their old-time comrade, lost awhile,But loved long since for the brave old smileThat cleared the way when he only knewHis ways were Gray and their ways were Blue;And if for a time, he walked alone,He’s all right now, for “Longstreet’s home:”Back to his old command he’s gone,With Lee and Jackson looking on,And cheering him back to the ranks againWith the Blue and the Gray all melted in.

Gainesville, Georgia, January 6, 1904.

Slowly the bells of Gainesville toll a requiem, the last taps have sounded only to be lost again across the winter-browned fields of Georgia, but the reveille of awakening still rings out clear and true that to-day old comrades in arms, citizens, soldiers, admirers, friends, women of the South, children of a rising generation, Georgia, and all Dixieland may know that Lieutenant-General James Longstreet, the “war-horse” of the Confederacy, has at last again joined his old command.

And the thousands who marched to the little cemetery just as the sun started on its sleeping journey in the west did not come to say a last good-by; with uncovered heads they simply said good-night.

In the court-house which but a few months ago was a converted hospital for the care of those maimed by a terrible cyclone, the body of General Longstreet rests beneath the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy and the Stars and Stripes of the Union. Old soldiers passed in a never-ending procession with uncovered heads for one last look upon the face of their commander. Look if you will behind that curtain of mist before the eyes of thatwearer of a gray uniform and you will see quite another picture. It is that of his beloved “Old Pete,” as he was known by his own command, hurrying on to the support of General Jackson at Manassas. Or his indomitable courage on the retreat from Gettysburg “leading on and on as strong in the adversity of defeat as in the success that follows victory.” Or perhaps hurrying towards the front at the Wilderness, the intrepid leader so far in the van that he was wounded by his own men. Or at the last succumbing at Appomattox to the inevitable and with Lee reaping the reward of honor that belonged to a surrender that cost more bravery than all of the battles of that blood-drained period of history.

The sentinels that guard the bier are withdrawn. The body is carried by loving hands to the court-room above. Here in the presence of his nearest relatives and friends that taxed not alone the capacity of the building, but overflowed into an acre of mourning humanity outside.

Here in the closely crowded hall of justice converted into a sanctuary by lighted candles and the priestly robes of the officiating clergy, the services were held. There was no music save the stifled sob of brave men whose hearts were awakened to the sacred ties of old-time memories in a way beyond their control. Bishop Keiley, himself an old soldier of General Longstreet, and Rev. Fathers Gunn, of Atlanta, and Schadewell, of Albany, officiated. After the reading of the prayers of the impressive service of the Roman Catholic Church, Bishop Keiley in a beautiful eulogy revered again the memory of his old friend and commander. His address appears in another column, but the choking of his voice, the closed eyes shutting back the tears that would come,—these things are lost in the reproduction of printer’s ink and can only remain in the memories of those who were so privileged as to be present.

The picture was most inspiring. Look, if you will, at the one-time forest of battle-flags, hewn down and water-logged in the blood of many victories to a tiny grove of priceless ribbons that rise and fall with the wavering strength of the old soldiers who carry them. And in this same sweetly sad procession march with faltering steps the men who wore the gray and the sturdystep of those who, now belonging to a rising generation, wear the blue of the reunited union.

But perhaps even more inspiring than the uniforms of gray were the women of the South, Daughters of the Revolution, school-girls, Daughters of the Confederacy, many of them wives or widows of old comrades—the bravest army of home-defenders, valor-inspiring soldiers that ever dared not only to die but to let die all that was highest and dearest in one common cause. Impressive is the marching of men. But the marching of women—it is different, wonderfully, beautifully different.

What was said may soon be forgotten, but what was seen by those who gathered at the grave will live forever in the memory of all those who saw. Above the opening of the last resting-place of General Longstreet the two flags he loved so well were again crossed and stacked for the bivouac that knows no waking. Just as the near relatives and dearest friends were gathered about the grave, there stepped up an old veteran and delivered the Stars and Bars as the last, loving message from General Jenkins, of North Carolina. With this old flag and the Stars and Stripes, the General was buried.

Then, just as the body was about to be lowered, another figure bent with the ravages of time and trembling with the emotion that bespeaks a tender heart and brave courage made his way to the circle about the grave. His interruption of the services was beautiful beyond all hope of describing.

“I want,” he said, and he hesitated not as one who has forgotten some carefully prepared speech, but rather as one whose heart was getting the better of his attempt at expression, “I want to bury this jacket, my old gray jacket, with my General. I’ve got my papers, too, my enlistment papers. They’re all here, and they’re all clean. I wasn’t an officer, but I belonged to Longstreet’s command, and I’d rather be a private in the old corps than, than—— Well, I’ve served my time, and the General, he’s served his time, too. And I reckon I won’t need my uniform and papers again. But I’d like to leave them with him for always. They were enlisted under his command, and as I don’t ever want to be mustered out again, I’d just like to leave them with him always, if you don’t mind.”

And as no one minded unless it was in the most beautiful way possible, the faded gray jacket and the enlistment papers were lowered with the crossed flags of two republics and many floral offerings as a last loving tribute to General Longstreet, who, with the final sounding of taps, again passed for ever and ever to his waiting commander and his old command.

“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 thebest 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 consequentrégimeof 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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