When
General Grant, having been made lieutenant-general, came East and assumed direction of the armies operating against
Richmond, the war had been in progress three years; about a dozen great battles had been fought between the two principal
Virginia armies, in which alone the aggregate losses in killed and wounded were over 90,000; half as many more had fallen in scores of lesser actions—all to no purpose, for, notwithstanding the fact that perhaps equal losses had been inflicted on the
Confederates, the situation of the beligerents in
Virginia remained substantially the same as when the
first battle of Bull Run occurred in 1861.
Retaining
Meade in command of the Army of the Potomac, but casting his personal fortunes with that magnificent but unfortunate
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army,
Grant inaugurated a campaign against
Lee which involved a succession of bloody battles hardly paralleled in modern warfare, in which the
Confederate commander, almost constantly acting on a careful defensive, to husband his rapidly failing strength, was barely able throughout this terrible summer to hold his own and protect
Richmond.
By thus always fighting behind fortified lines and taking few chances,
Lee was enabled to inflct far greater losses on the
Union army than his own sustained.
But, nevertheless, the
Confederate losses were also quite large.
Confederate bulletins and newspapers from time to time announced the repulse of the
Yankees with ‘great slaughter,’ and showered enthusiastic praises upon the brave and brilliant defense their great leader was making against overwhelming numbers, yet the
Union army day by day drew nearer and nearer
Richmond, and the very terseness with which, after the first trial of strength with
Grant, the heretofore bold and dashing Confederates hugged their breastworks, was evidence that they were cowed and dismayed by this new order of warfare.
Grant at once detected this after the
Wilderness; he asserted to his government that
Lee was already whipped, and that it was impossibie to get a battle out of him in the open.
Grant pressed the fighting with such ferocity and persisted in it with such bull dog tenacity that he began to be stigmatized by his enemies North and South as a ‘butcher.’
It is my purpose to indulge in some speculations concerning this campaign, and the
Union losses, comparing them with other campaigns of the war, and then let the reader form his own conclusions as to whether
Grant's eventual success was dearly bought or otherwise.
The period of which I shall treat is the forty-one days beginning with the
battle of the Wilderness, on the 5th of May, and ending with the crossing of the
James on the 15th of June, 1864.
The fighting, beginning on the 5th, was almost continuous throughout the month of May, but practically ended with the
battle of Cold Harbor on the third of June.
The total Union losses in all the battles of this period in killed and wounded (I do not include prisoners, as they are not counted in the butcher's bill), was follows:
| Killed. | Wounded. | Total. |
Wilderness, 2 days | 2,246 | 12,037 | 14,283. |
Spotsylvania, 14 days | 2,725 | 13,413 | 16,138. |
North Anna, Cold Harbor, etc., 24 days | 2,436 | 11,811 | 14,247. |
| —— | —— | ——— |
Total, 41 days | 7,407 | 37,261 | 44,668. |
The campaign in which these losses were made may be truthfully
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described as a series of seige operations, alternating with flank movements toward
Richmond to turn the
Confederates out of fortified positions too strong and too well defended to be broken through.
But
Lee, who was an able engineer officer, having always the inner line, found it easy again to interpose and throw up new defenses.
This process was repeated four different times—first at
Spotsylvania, then at the
North Anna river, again at Cold Harbor, and finally in front of
Petersburg.
It is not necessary to my purpose to discuss the
Confederate losses in these operations further than to say that they also were quite heavy.
There is no complete return of them, but subordinate reports leave no room for doubt that at the
Wilderness, where
Lee at first assumed the offensive, there were not less than 10,000, and perhaps as many as 12,000 killed and wounded; around
Spotsylvania between 8,000 and 10,000;
North Anna, Cold Harbor, etc., about 5,000.
I think the total may be fairly stated at 25,000 men. The The fighting, it will be seen, was not all one-sided.
Even the
Confederate fortified lines were several times pierced by fierce attacks, and the safety of
Lee's entire army momentarily imperiled.
The Wilderness is generally assumed to have been a drawn battle, but in fact it was a Union triumph.
Grant had not actually driven
Lee from the field, but he had maintained himself south of the river, offering, if not again delivering battle.
While safely covering his own capital,
Grant still menaced the enemy's, for he held the roads leading south, and at once actually proceeded to advance further into the interior of
Virginia.
He had held the enemy at bay, inflicting such staggering blows as to at last change the policy of that enemy from a hitherto generally successful offensive-defensive into a purely and very careful and timid defensive one.
More,
General Grant had destroyed the illusion in the
Union army that
Lee was absolutely infallible and that the
Rapidan was a sort of
Chinese wall which could not be successfully passed while
Lee defended it. This was a victory in itself.
Just one year previously
Lee had boldly attacked
Hooker on this same ground and disastrously defeated and driven him back across the
Rappahannock.
Hooker's forces in the
Chancellorsville campaign were greater by 20,000 than
Grant's in the
Wilderness, while
Lee's were about the same in both.
At
Spotsylvania Hancock broke through the
Confederate breastworks and captured many prisoners.
Feeble attempts of the
Confederates at
Spotsylvania,
North Anna, and Bethesda Church to take the offensive were easily repulsed, and with considerable loss.
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In short, in this campaign the
Union army was handled with a boldness and confidence unknown in its previous history, and with a success in the presence of
R. E. Lee which surprised those to whom his name had been a terror for three years. All expectation of out-manoeuvering and defeating the superior Federal army in the open had evidently been put aside, though it is plain
Lee had confidence that he could repeat the
Chancellorsville episode when he marched on
Grant in the
Wilderness.
His previous successes in this favorite field against large armies gave him ground for such expectation.
But the cyclone tactics of the
Confederate leader of 1862-3 were now completely reversed.
True,
Lee was largely outnumbered, but not so largely as at
Chancellorsville.
It is not likely that many favorable openings were afforded by
General Grant for promising attack, but in the numberless movements at
Spotsylvania of corps back and forth, it seems strange that
Lee did not make an opportunity with his old-time skill to strike effectively, but here he preferred a strict defensive, a policy in marked contrast with the bold advance at the
Wilderness on May 5, and
Longstreet's attack on the 6th.
Grant's style of fighting was a new sensation on this front.
The partisans of defunct Federal generals previously cleaned out by
Lee, who prognosticated disaster, were silenced by
Grant's advance; opposition journals and the supporters of
McClellan, who had declared that the war was a failure, spread exaggerated lists of killed before the country for political purposes.
Through such agencies there was created a popular impression that
Grant's warfare was utterly devoid of sense or science; that by mere weight of numbers and through sheer stolidity he was maintaining a losing fight; that
General Lee—a great military genius—was constantly outgeneraling him, watchfully biding his time and from behind impregnable breastworks shooting down the
Union troops like pigeons almost at will, while losing very few himself.
Cheap historians afterward followed these lines.
Many ignorant people are still of that impression, especially those who have read only the earlier histories and have depended upon sensational newspaper accounts for their knowledge of the war, written before the contemporaneous official reports of both sides were accessible.
Never was there a greater mistake.
Lee had previously been lucky in his adversaries; now he had met one who understood his business; who like himself knew how to Weigh relative chances; who knew when his army was licked and also when it wasn't; who,
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seconded by
Meade, knew how to spread an army out and fight it properly, and who did not lose his head when merely repulsed and rush away in retreat, under the impression that all was lost.
No such series of rapid and able—even brilliant—manoeuvres as those around
Spotsylvania were seen on any other battle-field of the war. They were skilfully met; they had to be to save the Confederate army.
It is natural that this continuous fighting and these heavy losses should have had the effect to somewhat impair the morale of the
Union army, yet seemingly the troops charged the
Confederate breastworks at Cold Harbor, with
Richmond in sight, as bravely as they did those at
Spotsylvania.
Grant never abandoned the offensive from first to last, and was constantly feeling for the weak spot in his adversary's armor.
Now for my parallel.
The distinguished Confederate leader,
General R. E. Lee, was appointed to the command of the Army of Northern Virginia after the
battle of Fair Oaks, where his predecessor,
General Joseph E. Johnston, was wounded.
For the purpose of loosening
McClellan's hold on
Richmond General Lee began a series of operations on the 25th of June, 1862, known as the Seven Days battles, in which he succeeded in driving off the
Union general and relieving
Richmond from the menace of immediate attack.
In these battles the
Confederates acted on the offensive, and were precipitated against the
Union positions by their commander day after day with a persistent energy bordering on desperation.
Their losses were frightful.
In the first battle at
Beaver Dam Creek on the 26th of June, some 18,000 Confederates charged a strong line held by
McCall's single division and were repulsed with ease, with a loss of about 3,000 men, killed and wounded,
McCall's killed and wounded amounting to less than 400, all told.
The
battle of Gaines' Mill followed on the 27th, the
Confederates attacking a strong line and eventually winning a victory, but at great cost of bloodshed.
Other battles followed,
McClellan retreating to the
James, where again the
Confederates made desperate efforts to break the
Union lines at
Malvern Hill, but were signally repulsed, with a loss of not less than 6,000 killed and wounded, the
Union army suffering not half as much.
After this series of bloody battles, in which
Lee lost 19,739 men, killed and wounded, to
McClellan's 9,796,
Lee marched toward the
Rappahannock, attacking
Pope at
Cedar Mountain, again at
Bull Run and
Chantilly, and finally pressing the
Union army back into
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the fortifications about
Washington.
He then invaded
Maryland, but was attacked at
South Mountain on the 14th of September, and again at
Antietam on the 17th, where, acting on the defensive, he was enabled to inflict heavy losses on
McClellan, but was also badly shattered himself and forced to retire across the
Potomac.
Shortly after he fell back behind the
Rappahannock, through sheer exhaustion, to recuperate and rest his army, which had been incessantly toiling and fighting with splendid valor since the 26th of June.
In these various battles
Lee's losses were as follows:
| Killed. | Wounded. | Total. |
Seven days battles | 3,478 | 16,261 | 19,739. |
Cedar Mountain | 347 | 929 | 1,276. |
Second Bull Run | 1,740 | 7,372 | 9,112. |
Antietam | 1,863 | 9,339 | 11,202. |
| —— | ——— | ——— |
Total | 7,428 | 33,901 | 41,329. |
The Confederate returns of losses in these operations are incomplete and unsatisfactory.
For several of the lesser battles, in which perhays, 3,000 or 4,000 men were lost, no reports of losses whatever appear.
The Confederates did not report their slightly wounded by a special order of
Lee himself.
It is demonstrated that the total losses of
Lee in these campaigns were not less than 45,000 men killed and wounded, and the reports contain internal evidences that they probably exceeded the total of 50,000.
The aggregates shown above are approximately correct, so far as they go, and for the Seven Days battles are undisputed.
Around
Richmond,
Lee, like
Grant, forced the fighting against a partially fortified enemy, and held his men up to the necessary work with the same tenacity of purpose that characterized
Grant's operations from the Vilderness to the
James.
His losses fully equaled and probably exceeded
Grant's.
Lee's bloody assaults at
Beaver Dam Creek and at
Malvern Hill were even more unjustifiable by any apparent military necessity than
Grant's assaults at Cold Harbor, and they were just as costly in human blood.
Every man he lost at
Antietam was a waste of life, because he had no need to fight that battle.
Yet no man has risen up to stigmatize the brilliant Confederate leader as a ‘butcher.’
It is true that
Lee had temporarily relieved
Richmond, beaten
Pope, captured
Harper's Ferry, and made a good fight at
Antietam—all brilliant episodes doubtless, as they added greatly to his military reputation.
But summing all up after
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his forced retreat across the
Potomac, who can point out any real, tangible advantage attained for his cause by all these bloody sacrifices?
His victories over
McClellan and
Pope were disappointing, but they did not shake the determination of the
North, or for one moment unsettle its purpose to crush the rebellion.
He had inflicted on the enemy losses less than his own army had sustained, except in prisoners; the long, unceasing strain of battle, with its harassments and its killings, had brought his once formidable army to so low a state of morale and discipline that there was well-grounded fear of its total dissolution by wholesale desertion and straggling after
Antietam, if we may believe
General Lee's own statements and those of
D. H. Hill and others.
September 22d, five days after the battle, his total infantry force present for duty was officially stated at only 35,757.
Lee telegraphed
Secretary Randolph September 23d, that ‘unless something is done the army will melt away.’
In short, at this time the
Confederate outlook was gloomy.
The fortunes of the
Confederacy were then at a lower ebb, in my opinion, than at any other period of its existence, except during the last few months prior to the final collapse in 1865.
Its army was reduced to a frazzle by its frightful losses, and other causes far more more dangerous to its existence; the object of its chief general's campaign had been defeated and his weakened army thrown back upon the defensive.
And what was worse, notwithstanding
Lee's apparent successes, which had set the
South delirious with joy, while he had thus been sensibly growing weaker, his adversary, constantly gaining in strength, was now confronting him more numerous and powerful, more confident and determined than ever.
McClellan's effective army shortly after
Antietam had increased to over 15o,000 men.
Lee was relatively worse off than at the beginning of his series of brilliant operations.
All the reinforcements added to
Joe Johnston's army in June had disappeared into the grave, the
Southern hospitals or deserted to their homes.
Mere stupidity largely contributed to
Lee's principal successes, whereas in
Grant's advance upon
Richmond, the
Confederate defense, from first to last, was conducted with consummate ability.
And note the difference in results.
Lee lost 45,000 men and gained no permanent advantage, whereas
Grant, after losses not exceeding the other's, permanently fastened himself upon the very throat of the rebellion, and just eleven months from the time he set forth he had accomplished his object in its complete overthrow to recompense
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the country for its sacrifices.
It is highly probable he would have made even a shorter campaign of it had he been in command instead of
McClellan after or previous to the
battle of Antietam.