why the interest in A.P. Hill

A question via email that has been asked numerous times.  Why the interest in A.P. Hill? 

One of the first books I read about the Civil War was D.S. Freeman’s classic three volume set Lee’s Lieutenants.  For those not familiar with this masterwork, following his four volume Pulitzer prize winning biography of Robert E. Lee, Freeman set about writing a history of the Army of Northern Virginia’s high command.  The trilogy proceeds in chronological order from the first days of the War all the way to the very end at Appomattox.  Lee’s various generals — from Longstreet to Jackson to Stuart to Gordon — all make appearances and are given roles in the drama.

It is here I first encountered A.P. Hill.  Most of Lee’s generals can be distilled down to a word or a phrase or a nickname.  For example, Longstreet is Lee’s “War Horse” — reliable, dependable, solid.  Jackson can be summed up as the “eccentric genius” — difficult, yet brilliant.  Stuart is the cavalier — the superb horseman, the Knight of the Golden Spurs.

A.P. Hill had a nickname too.  Friends and family referred to him as “Powell” and his nickname during the War was “Little Powell.”  Nevertheless, that nickname only suggests a slightness of stature.  It doesn’t give a clue or key to the man like “Old War Horse” or “Old Blue Light” or “Marble Man” or “Tige.”

Hill came across to me as a sort of shadowy character.  He clearly had a volcanic temper that would erupt when he felt he had been slighted.  His fascinating personal “battle” first with Longstreet, then with Stonewall Jackson reflects that.  On the other hand, Hill was well loved by his men.  A courier remembered that “of all the generals, only A.P. Hill never failed, even during the heat of battle, to have a kindly word and perhaps a little joke for the couriers.”

As a general, Hill could be brilliant.   His career was marked by several successes — the highest among them arriving in the nick of time at Sharpsburg.  Yet to counterbalance those brilliant days, Hill had his share of bad days — the most notable being the disaster at Bristoe Station.

I came to the study of the War in the mid 1990s, one of the many people who had their interest in Civil War history ignited by the movie Gettysburg.  (Gettysburg was, of course,  not one of Hill’s better battles.)  While some people may have found their interest passed quickly, mine didn’t.  The more I read about the Civil War, the more I wanted to know.  I became entranced by the period and wanted to know everything I could.  And it was the people who intrigued me the most.  It was as if the War was a grand tragedy written by a great mind like Shakespeare, with this colorful cast of characters — rouges and villains, heroes and idols.  Yet, it was all real, it had all really happened.  You could even travel to Gettysburg and walk over the same ground that Meade and Lee had ridden over.  You could stand on Cemetery Ridge and even crouch behind the stonewall and imagine what it was like to see Pickett’s and Pettigew’s men emerge from the tree line on July 3.

I had a healthy interest in battlefield tactics, and to this day enjoy poring over maps and trying to figure out which regiment was where, how a brigade ended up where it was, of principles of war.  I like to picture battle lines in my head.  But what really captured my imagination was trying to understand the people.  How did men face fire like that and not run?  What was it really like to be there?

In 1997, I signed on to the internet for the first time and discovered there was much out there already about the Civil War.  By that time, I had developed an interest in A.P. Hill.  For whatever reason, I found that I liked this shadowy character who wore a red shirt into battle, dared to pick fights with Longstreet and Jackson, was unquestionably very brave, yet was also significantly flawed.  While there was quite a bit out on the internet about the War, I found there was precious little about A.P. Hill in the new world.

Back before everyone could have a blog and broadcast their thoughts to the world, we had websites.  Websites were also fairly easy to set up and run (though not as easy as a blog), and like blogs you could pretty much publish anything you wanted about any topic.  That said, most websites weren’t personal thought collections like many blogs or little blurbs about what the author is thinking about at any given time.  Rather, they were topical.  I thought it would be neat to give Hill a big, interesting website.  Maybe he had been forgotten, or mostly forgotten anyway, in the books, but I decided that would not be in the new electronic age.

And so I started reading about Hill and then writing about him.  The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. At first, I was more interested in Hill as a general.  But the more I learned about him, the more I wanted to know him as a person.

I wanted Hill to have a nice looking website.  So I learned first HTML, then XHTML, then CSS so I could have a decent looking website.  I studied web design a little bit.  I scanned in pictures and I kept on reading anything I could find with even just a passing reference to Hill.

My site started out small, then grew into a behemoth.  When my dad bought me a copy of the Official Records on CD-Rom, I painstakingly added the reports of not only Hill, but all his subordinates to my site.  When I received a copy of the Southern Historical Society Papers, I again carefully combed through looking for interesting articles about Hill or the men who served under him.

As an internet subject for someone’s first real history project, Hill turned out to be a good subject.  There is a good amount of information available about him, but not an insurmountable amount.   He also had enough paradoxes about him that even people who might not otherwise be interested in history could find Hill an intriguing and interesting fellow.

By the time I graduated from college in 2002, my website was mainly complete, though I still add to it from time to time when I find something interesting or read something interesting about Hill.

And so in that roundabout way, I return to the question — why A.P. Hill?  I could have picked any character — after all, there was no website about John Sedgwick or John Gordon or even of Winfield Scott Hancock.  I think I picked A.P. Hill because he was an interesting person.  Not because he was the War’s best general.  He was not.  Not because he was the War’s worst general.  He was not.  Not because he was saintly.  Hill was not.  Rather, I picked him because he human.  I liked the balance between good and bad qualities.  Human beings are not all good or all bad.  Well, at least most of us aren’t.  Most of us are a mixture of both flaws and good qualities.  In the words of Nietzsche we are “Human, All Too Human.”

Hill was definitely human.  And, I think that’s why he still interests me even today.

supremely happy in battle

This is Colonel William Ransom Johnson Pegram, one of the remarkable young men produced — and then taken, sadly when the outcome was already decided — by our Civil War. ¹ He was known as “Willy.” ² Looks more like a school boy or the professorial type than a warrior gunner, don’t you think? But he was one of the most fierce fighters in the Army of Northern Virginia. General Harry Heth would even remark that Pegram was “one of the few men who, I believe, was supremely happy when in battle.”

A law student at the beginning of the War, at the tender age of 19 (he would not turn twenty for several months), Pegram joined the Richmond “Purcell Artillery” in April 1861. Because he suffered from severe near-sightedness, he had to wear gold rimmed spectacles — even in the heat of battle.

This bookish appearing fellow was an especial favorite of A.P. Hill. ³ During the Gettysburg Campaign, Pegram had fallen ill with fever. He then had to ride to catch up with his men. “General Hill,” Lee said, “I have good news for you; Major Pegram is up.” Hill responded, “Yes, that is good news.” When a staff officer recited the exchange to Pegram, the officer noted that “Pegram valued those few words from the General of the army and the General of his corps more than another star upon his collar.”

Yet, Pegram would have liked promotion and it was richly deserved. Upon seeing a recommendation that Pegram be promoted to command of a brigade near the end of the War, Hill endorsed it: “No officer of the Army of Northern Virginia has done more to deserve this promotion than Lieutenant Colonel Pegram.”

But because Pegram served in the artillery and because he was a young man, he was not ever promoted above the rank of colonel. Speaking to Heth, Lee asked, “He is too young–how old is Colonel Pegram?”

Heth replied, “I do not know, but I suppose about 25.”

Lee answered: “I think a man of 25 as good as he ever will be; what he acquires after that age is from experience; but I can’t understand, when an officer is doing excellent service where he is, why he should want to change.” And the recommendation for promotion was thus returned, camp gossip had it, with the statement that “the artillery could not lose the services of so valuable an officer.”

And so on April 1, 1865, Pegram found himself still in command of his battalion of artillery at the battle of Five Forks. Freeman would recount the day thusly: to the artillerists, it was a day of disaster not to be recorded solely in terms of four guns lost or of good soldiers captured.

Willy Pegram had once sworn that his guns would not be taken from his while he lived; he finally suffered the loss of a gun at Five Forks, but it was only while lying mortally wounded, shot through the left side. He died the next morning. With great feeling his friend Gordon McCabe remembered his final hours,

At about 10 o’clock we reached Ford’s, and I obtained a bed for him . . . I had given him morphine in small quantities until he was easier, and he soon fell into a doze. The enemy advanced on the place about 12 o’clock, and I was left alone with him. I sent off our sabres, horses, spurs, etc., as I felt sure that we would be captured. I shall never forget that night of waiting. I could only pray. He breathed heavily through the night, and passed into a stupor. I bound his wounds as well as I knew how and moistened his lips with water. Sunday morning he died as gently as possible.

His men liked to say no bullet had been molded that could ever take down their young commander who had survived so many sharp fights and so many hails of lead; sadly, it was not so.

Like Pender, Willy Pegram was a devoted Christian and a pious, brave young individual. Of Pegram it was said, “he fell in the discharge of his duty, and died with the philosophy of a Christian.” Many would agree with John C. Haskell that Pegram was the best artillery officer in the Army of Northern Virginia. He was buried in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, near his brother, General John Pegram, killed a few weeks before.

The following day, likely not knowing of Pegram’s fate, A.P. Hill was killed. Seven days after that, Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia surrendered at Appomattox.

The true scope of the tragedy of the Civil War was that it cost our country young, brilliant men like Willy Pegram, who would have been destined to be the country’s leaders. Pegram sadly illustrates that it was often the best and brightest who were killed. And adding to the senseless of his death was the timing — the outcome had been decided by that point, it had only become a question of when and where the final end would come.

1. Willy’s older brother, John, was a West Point graduate, class of 1854. He was a Confederate general and was killed at the battle of Hatcher’s Run in February, 1865, soon after his marriage to the “most beautiful woman of her generation,” Hettie Cary. The death devastated Willy who had always been close with his brother. [↩]
2. D.S. Freeman refers to Pegram as “Willie,” but his biographer Peter Carmichael points out that Pegram usually was called “Willy” by his family.  Although Freeman was a careful historian, a very good historian, I am deferring to Carmichael as a Pegram expert. [↩]
3. And as Hill was known to the men for his red shirt, so Pegram was known for his specs. Upon sighting Pegram, infantryman were said to remark “there’s going to be a fight, for here comes that damn little man with the ’specs’.” Pegram was cut of the same cloth as Hill, and if Pegram flaw it was he was sometimes too aggressive and eager in a fight. [↩]

The February 6 Triumvirate

In lieu of the usual monument post today (most of which are related to the Army of the Potomac), I decided to take a brief break and turn my attention to the Army of Northern Virginia.

History is full of odd and interesting coincidences. One of the more interesting that you may not be aware of is that three stellar, young Army of Northern Virginia generals were born in successive years on this date in history (February 6th).

Interestingly, this illustrious trio represented four Confederate states (Georgia, Alabama, North Carolina, and Virginia). There was one civilian soldier and two professionals (both graduates of the West Point class of 1854). Two were killed in the Civil War; one rose to become a prominent post-war politician.

They are in order of birth:

General John B. Gordon was born on February 6, 1832 in Upson County, Georgia. He was a lawyer and engaged in mining operations prior to the War. Gordon rose from the colonelcy of an Alabama regiment to eventually command of the illustrious Second Corps. He survived a terrible series of wounds at Sharpsburg and commanded the last attack by the Army of Northern Virginia at Fort Stedman. Ramrod straight and imposing on the field of strife, one of Gordon’s admiring men would exclaim that to see Gordon on the battlefield would put fight into a whipped chicken. Of the illustrious triumvirate, Gordon was the only one to survive the War. He served his state for years as a senator and as a governor. Gordon died in January 1904.

“He was,” Union General John Sedgwick said, “the greatest cavalryman foaled in America.” James Ewell Brown Stuart — “Jeb” — was born on February 6, 1833. He was the quintessential cavalier of the War. A professional soldier, he would rise to command of the Army of Northern Virginia’s cavalry and arguably become the best cavalryman of the Civil War. Even if you don’t think Stuart worthy of that lofty title, it is indisputable that he was one of the most flashy and iconic of all the generals of not only the Confederacy, but of the entire Civil War. Stuart — the eyes and ears of Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia — was mortally wounded at the battle of Yellow Tavern in May 1864 and died the following day. Among his last words on the battlefield were the entreaty to his men: “I’d rather die than be whipped.” ¹

When Robert E. Lee ticked off the loss of his “best men” in a letter in the fall of 1863, the name William Dorsey Pender was prominent. Pender was born on February 6, 1834, making him the youngest of the three Army of Northern Virginia generals who celebrated their birthday on February 6th. Pender was a professional soldier (West Point class of 1854 ² — same class as Stuart) with a knack for getting wounded. Rising up through the ranks of A.P. Hill’s storied Light Division, Pender was Hill’s choice to take over that command. Hill even went so far as to make certain Pender received command of the Light Division over Henry Heth, who was technically the senior and one of Hill’s dearest friends. Pious, brave to the point of flaw, and an excellent soldier marked for potential higher command, Pender was mortally wounded in command of the Light Division at Gettysburg. One of his officers summed him up thusly: “He was one of the coolest, most self-possessed and one of the most absolutely fearless men under fire I ever knew.”

(Other famous people born on February 6 include the greatest baseball player of all time, Babe Ruth. I give the Babe the title of the greatest because not only could he hit, he could also pitch. There is no one quite like him in the game.)

There you have it — three stellar young generals of the Army of Northern Virginia, all born in three consecutive years on February 6th.

1. Ironically, Stuart and Sedgwick, the beloved commander of the Union VI Corps, died within days of each other. [↩]
2. The class of 1854 produced 11 generals; of these 11, 6 were killed in battle, including five for the Confederacy. [↩]

2nd Maryland CSA

In stark contrast to the hundreds of Union regimental monuments, there are relatively few monuments to Confederate regiments at Gettysburg. A very notable exception is the monument to the “2nd Maryland.”

Located on Culp’s Hill near the “saddle” where Slocum Avenue makes a hairpin turn, the monument is relatively simple and rather unremarkable in design. The monument appears very traditional and in keeping with the rest of the memorials on the field. It consists mainly of a tapered die topped by a highly polished granite ball. Each of the four sides includes the Baltimore cross.

The monument was dedicated on November 19, 1886 at a cost of $1,000.00. It consists of Hardwick Granite. A small marker also represents the point reach during the July 3 fighting. General Steuart was among those in attendance at the dedication.

The sharp-eyed will notice if they peruse the Army of Northern Virginia’s Order of Battle that there is, in fact, no 2nd Maryland! And therein lies the relatively interesting history of the monument.

In October 1884, the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association granted permission to the survivors of the 1st Maryland Battalion (which had served in Steuart’s Brigade of Ed Johnson’s Division) to erect a monument indicating it’s position on the battlefield. Some Union veterans opposed allowing a Confederate monument. Of particular problem was the fact that there were already TWO Union “First Marylands” — the 1st Maryland “Potomac Home Brigade” and the 1st Maryland “Eastern Shore.” Both units also had monuments nearby the site chosen by the 1st Maryland, CSA.

The GBMA decided to allow the 1st Maryland CSA to build a monument, but required that it be designated as the 2nd Maryland Infantry, CSA, to avoid confusion with the two Union 1st Marylands. The men of the 1st Maryland CSA reluctantly agreed.

(Defiantly, however, they etched the words “1st Maryland changed to” right above the 2nd Maryland CSA designation on the monument.)

North Carolina State Monument

The beautiful and striking North Carolina Monument is located on West Confederate Avenue, near A.P. Hill’s headquarters. The Tennessee state memorial is located a short distance away.

(This is the monolith containing the names of the North Carolina units present as part of the Army of Northern Virginia. It was dedicated at the same time as the rest of the monument.)

The North Carolina Monument was dedicated on July 3, 1929. It cost $50,000.00. This money was appropriated by the state to both pay for the monument and to purchase the land upon which it sits. The United Daughters of the Confederacy paid for the monolith.

The sculptor was Gutzon Borglum (1867-1941); the monument consists of standard bronze and stands nearly 16′ in height. Borglum, of course, is most famous for his work at Mount Rushmore. (He also executed the work at Stone Mountain in Georgia.)

The bronze sculpture is located approximately where Pettigrew’s brigade would have stepped off in “Pickett’s Charge.” A wounded officer urges his men on while pointing towards Cemetery Ridge. A colorbearer carries the all important symbolic flag, while a veteran whispers encouragement to a younger comrade.

Borglum modeled the faces on those of actual Confederate veterans. Orren Randolph Smith, designer of the “Stars and Bars,” served as the model for the face of the colorbearer.

Dum Spiro Spero

Dedicated on the 100th anniversary of the July 2d battle, the South Carolina Memorial contains carved palmetto trees and the front details the names of each South Carolina unit to fight at Gettysburg. It stands where Kershaw’s Brigade attacked the Rose Farm and the Wheatfield. The front of the monument also contains a line from Henry Timrod’s “Ode at Magnolia Cemetery” appropriate to all Confederate soldiers at Gettysburg: “There is no holier spot of ground than where defeated valor lies, by mourning beauty crowned.”

Dum Spiro Spero is the state motto of South Carolina. It is Latin for “While I breathe, I hope.”

Main Shaft - Front

Reverse (Facing West)

Main Side (Facing East)

Up Men and to Your Posts …

The Virginia State Monument

The first monument on the field for the South (as well as the largest and most expensive monument), the Virginia state monument was dedicated June 8, 1917. It features an equestrian statue of General Robert E. Lee reputed to be one of the finest equestrians in the world and one of the best likenesses of Confederate commander Lee.

The seven figures at the base represent the diverse elements that made up Lee’s army — a professional, a mechanic, an artist, a businessman, and a farmer. The sculptor of the entire monument was Frederick Sievers.

These are some of my best pictures collected together of the stunning Virginia Monument at Gettysburg.

Full View

Lee on Traveller

Base of the Monument

The Longstreet Monument

One of the newer bronze monuments on the battlefield — and the only bronze dedicated solely to a Confederate General — is the monument to General James Longstreet.

Executed by sculptor Gary Casteel, this monument is located in what are known as Pitzer’s Woods, just behind West Confederate Avenue on Seminary Ridge.

Longstreet (January 8, 1821 – January 2, 1904), commanded Lee’s First Corps.  Longstreet is well known by Gettysburg and Civil War afficiandados, so a description of his life and career (as well as his time at Gettysburg) is a bit beyond the scope of this brief entry.

The monument was dedicated on July 3, 1998.  The monument has been criticized for the horse seems disproportionately small.  Also the lack of a pedestel makes the monument unlike others on the battlefield.

The monument fund was started by North Carolina Division Sons of Confederate Veterans.  The site of the monument was chosen in part because of its proximity to Longstreet’s headquarters; the monument site is approximately .2 of a mile north of Longstreet’s headquarters on the Pitzer Farm.

The fact sheet for the monument notes:

The monument will be a life size equestrian statue which has been designed by Mr. Gary Casteel, noted sculptor from Maurertown, VA. It will consist of a bronze horse and rider at ground level. This will give the appearance of movement in a classical design. The bronze inscription will be mounted on two stone pedestals placed in front of the monument. The reforestation will continue up to the monument giving the appearance of the General observing the lines on the third day of battle. Approval of the monument and landscaping designs was granted by the National Park Service on September 13, 1995. A sign marking the site of the monument was erected by the Longstreet Memorial Fund and National Park Service personnel on September 25, 1995.

As previously stated, this is the only monument at Gettysburg dedicated solely to a Confederate general.  The only other CSA general depicted is Robert E. Lee on the top of the Virginia State Monument.

the ANV - Freeman Challenge

“Shiloh Nick” over at Battlefield Wanderings says he’s going to take a crack at “ranking” the Army of Northern Virginia officers listed at the end of chapter 8, volume 1, of Lee’s Lieutenants. Here’s another link to the post if anyone else wants to give it a try: One for the ANV fans. (By the way, all of the officers not listed in Freeman’s actual text are listed via the footnotes. So I didn’t just pull the names out of thin air. )

If you attempt the task of ranking these 51 officers, let me know when you’re ready with your list by commenting on this post and I’ll send you my email address. I’ll publish any lists I get here. I’d be curious to see how much difference of opinion there is.

one for the ANV fans

Here’s one to ponder for those out there who consider themselves Army of Northern Virginia afficanados.

At the end of chapter 8 of volume one of Freeman’s classic Lee’s Lieutenants, Freeman speaks of the fates of the various officers at Manassas:

Ten held that rank [ general officer ] on the day of battle. One of them, Bee, was mortally wounded. Another, Bonham, resigned at the rank then held. A third, Johnston, already had the highest grade in the army. Of the others, Beauregard and Kirby Smith became Generals; Longstreet, Jackson, Holmes, and Ewell rose to be Lieutenant Generals, and D.R. Jones died as a Major General. Of the colonels at Manassas, A.P. Hill, Early and Hampton ended their service as Lieutenant Generals. Seven other Colonels were to be Major Generals and fourteen were to lead Brigades; one Major, Whiting, and two Lieutenants, became Generals of divisions, three lieutenant colonels, eight Captains, with one Lieutenant and three state milita officers, serving as aides, were to recieve the three stars and the wreath of Brigadeir General.

In short, to the nine general officers who survived Manassas, forty-two were to be added from men in the army along Bull Run that July day. Of the fifty-one, ten were doomed to lose their lives during the war. Eight, and no more than eight, were to prove plainly unqualified for the final grade they reached; nine were to show themselves of low capacity to command; seventeen could be regarded as average soldiers; the remaining seventeen were to be renowned.

The seven colonels who became major generals are Stuart, Elzey, Willliam Smith, Samuel Jones, Rodes, Kershaw, and Kemper. The fourteen to lead brigades were Micah Jenkins, Featherson, Garland, Corse, N.G. Evans, Harry Hays, Kirkland, Hunton, W.N. Pendelton, J.S. Preston, William Barksdale, J.C. Vaughn, P. St. George Cocke, and Thomas Jordan. The two lieutenants are Fitz Lee and Rosser; the three lieutenant colonels are T.T. Munford, George Steuart, and John Echols. James Dearing was the other Lieutenant; the state milita officers were States Rights Gist, Johnson Hagood, and Samuel McGowan. Finally, the eight captains were Williams C. Wickham, Porter Alexander, Imboden, Lindsay Walker, James Conner, W.H. Stevens, W.H. Terry, and G.M. Sorrel.

The ten who lost their lives (who you don’t otherwise elimenate by the way if you do the math) are obvious. The unlucky ten were A.P. Hill, Jackson, Jenkins, Barksdale, Rodes, Dearing, Stuart, D.R. Jones, Cocke, and Garland.

Here’s the task: categorize these 51 generals as Freeman would have. And then — do you agree? Who is “renowned”? Who is of “low capacity”? Who was plainly incompetent?

This task is actually a lot more difficult to do than appears at first glance. For one thing, you need to know a lot about the Army of Northern Virginia. But that alone won’t cut it, you also need to know a lot about several other theaters of operations too. Some of these officers, I dare say, are quite obscure.

A few are obvious. It’d be hard to argue that Longstreet and Jackson were not “renowned.” By the same token, I don’t think too many people would quibble with placing Lee’s magnificant failure of an artillery officer (Pendelton) in the ranks of those plainly unqualified.

But beyond that it gets tricky.

How do you place someone like Cocke who committed suicide soon after Manassas? Or Bonham who resigned soon thereafter? Does that make him “average”? Do you judge based on one performance? Do you categorize someone who was promoted beyond his capacity (for example, like many would argue Richard Ewell and A.P. Hill turned out to be) as of “low capacity” or as “average” when earlier in the War they won great renown and were probably amongst the best at the lower grade from which they were promoted? And what the heck do you do with someone like Johnston or Beauregard?

How about solid soldiers like Kershaw or McGowan — “average” or “renowned”? How do you compare someone who ended the War in command a brigade of cavalry (i.e. Wickham) to a corps artillery chief (i.e. Lindsay Walker) to a department head (Samuel Jones) to an army commander (Johnston or Beauregard)? What do you do with those killed early in battle (Garland) versus those killed late in the War in battle (Dearing)? How about those who only briefly wore the wreath around their stars (again, Dearing)? How about those who’s careers were interupted chronically by a series of wounds?

Are those who died gallantly in battle (Rodes, Garland, Barksdale, Gist) to be automatically ranked higher than a commander who did not suffer that misfortunate?

Give it a try.