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Found this excerpt from General Gordon, thought it was interesting:
"Seated at Clarkson Potter's table, I asked Barlow: "General, are you related to the Barlow who was killed at Gettysburg?" He replied: "Why, I am the man, sir. Are you related to the Gordon who killed me?" "I am the man, sir," I responded. No words of mine can convey any conception of the emotions awakened by those startling announcements. Nothing short of an actual resurrection from the dead could have amazed either of us more. Thenceforward, until his untimely death in 1896, the friendship between us which was born amidst the thunders of Gettysburg was greatly cherished by both."
Full excerpt below
Returning from the banks of the Susquehanna, and meeting at Gettysburg, July 1, 1863, the advance of Lee's forces, my command was thrown quickly and squarely on the right flank of the Union army. A more timely arrival never occurred. The battle had been raging for four or five hours. The Confederate General Archer, with a large portion of his brigade, had been captured. Heth and Scales, Confederate generals, had been wounded. The ranking Union commander on the field, General Reynolds, had been killed, and Hancock was assigned to command. The battle, upon the issue of which hung, perhaps, the fate of the Confederacy, was in full blast. The Union forces, at first driven back, now reënforced, were again advancing and pressing back Lee's left and threatening to envelop it. The Confederates were stubbornly contesting every foot of ground, but the Southern left was slowly yielding. A few moments more and the day's battle might have been ended by the complete turning of Lee's flank. I was ordered to move at once to the aid of the heavily pressed Confederates. With a ringing yell, my command rushed upon the line posted to protect the Union right. Here occurred a hand-to-hand struggle. That protecting Union line once broken left my command not only on the right flank, but obliquely in rear of it. Any troops that were ever marshalled would, under like conditions, have been as surely and swiftly shattered. There was no alternative for Howard's men except to break and fly, or to throw down their arms and surrender. Under the concentrated fire from front and flank, the marvel is that any escaped. In the midst of the wild disorder in his ranks, and through a storm of bullets, a Union officer was seeking to rally his men for a final stand. He, too, went down, pierced by a Minié ball. Riding forward with my rapidly advancing lines, I discovered that brave officer lying upon his back, with the July sun pouring its rays into his pale face. He was surrounded by the Union dead, and his own life seemed to be rapidly ebbing out. Quickly dismounting and lifting his head, I gave him water from my canteen, asked his name and the character of his wounds. He was Major-General Francis C. Barlow, of New York, and of Howard's corps. The ball had entered his body in front and passed out near the spinal cord, paralyzing him in legs and arms. Neither of us had the remotest thought that he could possibly survive many hours. I summoned several soldiers who were looking after the wounded, and directed them to place him upon a litter and carry him to the shade in the rear. Before parting, he asked me to take from his pocket a package of letters and destroy them. They were from his wife. He had but one request to make of me. That request was that if I should live to the end of the war and should ever meet Mrs. Barlow, I would tell her of our meeting on the field of Gettysburg and of his thoughts of her in his last moments. He wished me to assure her that he died doing his duty at the front, that he was willing to give his life for his country, and that his deepest regret was that he must die without looking upon her face again. I learned that Mrs. Barlow was with the Union army, and near the battlefield. When it is remembered how closely Mrs. Gordon followed me, it will not be difficult to realize that my sympathies were especially stirred by the announcement that his wife was so near him. Passing through the day's battle unhurt, I despatched at its close, under flag of truce, the promised message to Mrs. Barlow. I assured her that if she wished to come through the lines she should have safe escort to her husband's side. In the desperate encounters of the two succeeding days, and the retreat of Lee's army, I thought no more of Barlow, except to number him with the noble dead of the two armies who had so gloriously met their fate. The ball, however, had struck no vital point, and Barlow slowly recovered, though this fact was wholly unknown to me. The following summer, in battle near Richmond, my kinsman with the same initials, General J. B. Gordon of North Carolina, was killed. Barlow, who had recovered, saw the announcement of his death, and entertained no doubt that he was the Gordon whom he had met on the field of Gettysburg. To me, therefore, Barlow was dead; to Barlow, I was dead. Nearly fifteen years passed before either of us was undeceived. During my second term in the United States Senate, the Hon. Clarkson Potter, of New York, was a member of the House of Representatives. He invited me to dinner in Washington to meet a General Barlow who had served in the Union army. Potter knew nothing of the Gettysburg incident. I had heard that there was another Barlow in the Union army, and supposed, of course, that it was this Barlow with whom I was to dine. Barlow had a similar reflection as to the Gordon he was to meet. Seated at Clarkson Potter's table, I asked Barlow: "General, are you related to the Barlow who was killed at Gettysburg?" He replied: "Why, I am the man, sir. Are you related to the Gordon who killed me?" "I am the man, sir," I responded. No words of mine can convey any conception of the emotions awakened by those startling announcements. Nothing short of an actual resurrection from the dead could have amazed either of us more. Thenceforward, until his untimely death in 1896, the friendship between us which was born amidst the thunders of Gettysburg was greatly cherished by both.
In the LSU edition of Gordon's memoirs, the editor says that story of Gordon is fabricated and was never denounced by anyone because of bountiful happiness that characterized the Reconciliation Period.
Found this excerpt from General Gordon, thought it was interesting:
"Seated at Clarkson Potter's table, I asked Barlow: "General, are you related to the Barlow who was killed at Gettysburg?" He replied: "Why, I am the man, sir. Are you related to the Gordon who killed me?" "I am the man, sir," I responded. No words of mine can convey any conception of the emotions awakened by those startling announcements. Nothing short of an actual resurrection from the dead could have amazed either of us more. Thenceforward, until his untimely death in 1896, the friendship between us which was born amidst the thunders of Gettysburg was greatly cherished by both."
Full excerpt below
Returning from the banks of the Susquehanna, and meeting at Gettysburg, July 1, 1863, the advance of Lee's forces, my command was thrown quickly and squarely on the right flank of the Union army. A more timely arrival never occurred. The battle had been raging for four or five hours. The Confederate General Archer, with a large portion of his brigade, had been captured. Heth and Scales, Confederate generals, had been wounded. The ranking Union commander on the field, General Reynolds, had been killed, and Hancock was assigned to command. The battle, upon the issue of which hung, perhaps, the fate of the Confederacy, was in full blast. The Union forces, at first driven back, now reënforced, were again advancing and pressing back Lee's left and threatening to envelop it. The Confederates were stubbornly contesting every foot of ground, but the Southern left was slowly yielding. A few moments more and the day's battle might have been ended by the complete turning of Lee's flank. I was ordered to move at once to the aid of the heavily pressed Confederates. With a ringing yell, my command rushed upon the line posted to protect the Union right. Here occurred a hand-to-hand struggle. That protecting Union line once broken left my command not only on the right flank, but obliquely in rear of it. Any troops that were ever marshalled would, under like conditions, have been as surely and swiftly shattered. There was no alternative for Howard's men except to break and fly, or to throw down their arms and surrender. Under the concentrated fire from front and flank, the marvel is that any escaped. In the midst of the wild disorder in his ranks, and through a storm of bullets, a Union officer was seeking to rally his men for a final stand. He, too, went down, pierced by a Minié ball. Riding forward with my rapidly advancing lines, I discovered that brave officer lying upon his back, with the July sun pouring its rays into his pale face. He was surrounded by the Union dead, and his own life seemed to be rapidly ebbing out. Quickly dismounting and lifting his head, I gave him water from my canteen, asked his name and the character of his wounds. He was Major-General Francis C. Barlow, of New York, and of Howard's corps. The ball had entered his body in front and passed out near the spinal cord, paralyzing him in legs and arms. Neither of us had the remotest thought that he could possibly survive many hours. I summoned several soldiers who were looking after the wounded, and directed them to place him upon a litter and carry him to the shade in the rear. Before parting, he asked me to take from his pocket a package of letters and destroy them. They were from his wife. He had but one request to make of me. That request was that if I should live to the end of the war and should ever meet Mrs. Barlow, I would tell her of our meeting on the field of Gettysburg and of his thoughts of her in his last moments. He wished me to assure her that he died doing his duty at the front, that he was willing to give his life for his country, and that his deepest regret was that he must die without looking upon her face again. I learned that Mrs. Barlow was with the Union army, and near the battlefield. When it is remembered how closely Mrs. Gordon followed me, it will not be difficult to realize that my sympathies were especially stirred by the announcement that his wife was so near him. Passing through the day's battle unhurt, I despatched at its close, under flag of truce, the promised message to Mrs. Barlow. I assured her that if she wished to come through the lines she should have safe escort to her husband's side. In the desperate encounters of the two succeeding days, and the retreat of Lee's army, I thought no more of Barlow, except to number him with the noble dead of the two armies who had so gloriously met their fate. The ball, however, had struck no vital point, and Barlow slowly recovered, though this fact was wholly unknown to me. The following summer, in battle near Richmond, my kinsman with the same initials, General J. B. Gordon of North Carolina, was killed. Barlow, who had recovered, saw the announcement of his death, and entertained no doubt that he was the Gordon whom he had met on the field of Gettysburg. To me, therefore, Barlow was dead; to Barlow, I was dead. Nearly fifteen years passed before either of us was undeceived. During my second term in the United States Senate, the Hon. Clarkson Potter, of New York, was a member of the House of Representatives. He invited me to dinner in Washington to meet a General Barlow who had served in the Union army. Potter knew nothing of the Gettysburg incident. I had heard that there was another Barlow in the Union army, and supposed, of course, that it was this Barlow with whom I was to dine. Barlow had a similar reflection as to the Gordon he was to meet. Seated at Clarkson Potter's table, I asked Barlow: "General, are you related to the Barlow who was killed at Gettysburg?" He replied: "Why, I am the man, sir. Are you related to the Gordon who killed me?" "I am the man, sir," I responded. No words of mine can convey any conception of the emotions awakened by those startling announcements. Nothing short of an actual resurrection from the dead could have amazed either of us more. Thenceforward, until his untimely death in 1896, the friendship between us which was born amidst the thunders of Gettysburg was greatly cherished by both.
True or not, it does make a wonderful story of the nation binding its wounds. I love to read accounts of
Yanks and Rebs becoming friends after the war. I also
enjoy reading accounts of Yanks and Rebs trading "stuff" while on picket duty. Thanks.
True or not, it does make a wonderful story of the nation binding its wounds. I love to read accounts of
Yanks and Rebs becoming friends after the war. I also
enjoy reading accounts of Yanks and Rebs trading "stuff" while on picket duty. Thanks.
Precisely, I think it speaks volumes that Johnston is a pall bearer at Sherman's funeral (winds up getting pneumonia and dying because apparently it was so cold).
Wheeler, commanding US forces in Cuba (though ordering a charge against the Yankees!)
I heard somebody say, "When the myth becomes true, print the myth!" - that kind've applies here because EVEN IF FALSE, at the very least, the underlying hope of the author is that both North and South will find empathy in the other's suffering during the war.
Precisely, I think it speaks volumes that Johnston is a pall bearer at Sherman's funeral (winds up getting pneumonia and dying because apparently it was so cold).
Wheeler, commanding US forces in Cuba (though ordering a charge against the Yankees!)
I heard somebody say, "When the myth becomes true, print the myth!" - that kind've applies here because EVEN IF FALSE, at the very least, the underlying hope of the author is that both North and South will find empathy in the other's suffering during the war.
I am curious about Johnston and Sherman. One thing I have read says that Johnston refused to wear a hat and got pneumonia and died saying, when asked to wear a hat "If I were in his place and he standing here in mine he would not put on his hat." In another place, I read that Johnston went to Sherman's funeral to "make sure the ******* is really dead."
I credit the former more than the latter but does anyone know the source of Wiki's contention that "Johnston, like Lee, never forgot the magnanimity of the man to whom he surrendered, and would not allow an unkind word to be said about Sherman in his presence"?
__________________ "There must be more historians of the Civil War than there were generals figthing in it... Of the two groups, the historians are the more belligerent." David Donald, Lincoln Reconsidered (1961)
There is a bond that grows when men share the same dangers and feel the same fears and experience the same horrors that mortal combat breeds, and once its all said and done, the combatants usually have a mutual respect for each other. How many stories are there of two pickets trading some "Virginny tabacky" for some "New Yawk cawfee"
My grandfather's book from 1896, called Under Both Flags - A Panorama of the Great Civil War by C. R. Graham; has many stories from veterans from both sides of the Civil War. Personal accounts. Ranks of all kinds.
Throughout the entire book, there are many random acts of kindness on the battlefield as well as behind the scenes. After the ending of the Civil War, many former adversaries became good friends and or attended funerals to honor the 'man.'
One story, from Mrs. Dockery, wife of Brig. General Thomas P Dockery (Arkansas) at Vicksburg. She was not in the town of Vicksburg, as General Dockery had her go to safety. So, after the battle Mrs. Dockery went to General Grant to personally request permission to enter the town and find the disposition of her husband. General Grant had Vicksburg on 'lock down' per se and not violating his orders -- had one of his orderlies ride into Vicksburg and find out the disposition of General Dockery. In the meantime, General Grant hosted a fine dinner for Mrs. Dockery and her accompanying companions. The orderly found Pemberton to inquire about General Dockery as well as telling where Mrs. Dockery would be when he was able to move freely again. While the dinner was going on -- all conversations were extremely respectful to Mrs. Dockery and her feelings were respected.
Daughter of General Dockery, Octavia; writes about how General Grant's dog was always at his feet. One of those mascots that really didn't have an owner but, the dog adopted General Grant. She reports how Grant, although fond of the dog gave the dog to Pemberton, reportedly a Spitz and being with Pemberton, General Grant handed up the dog and said, this dog's name is Truce..
Another story from Vicksburg; from Col. L. P. Thomas (42nd Georgia-CSA); telling an artist by the name of Davis; ..."Kindness used up the 42nd Georgia finished ravages of the campaign and being a ranking officer was marched with the 42nd out of Vicksburg's fortification, 7-4-1863. He contines, that he heartily remembers how thoughtful consideration, evidenced by General Grant and his men from first to last, and from each to all was appreciated. Colonel Thomas further said, that they were not looking for nothing of the sort, when they marched out of Vicksburg that morning. Down hearted and bittter, ragged and hungry, bitterly cross; we found Grant's men well fed--yes, when we had found them. They were not withdrawn from the front until we had stacked arms and hung our equipment on the slacks & rested our colors upon the guns with which we had defended those flags so well. Then guided, we marched to the camping grounds, plainly the best to be found near by. Then every opportunity was given to us to tidy up, enjoy better food, better everything, have a rest and get acquainted with you all (Davis the Union artist who documented battles). The artist was busy working out the preliminaries of what General Joseph E. Johnson named the best battle picture he over said. Using the worn and devaced field notebooks in the men's pockets, established the location of what the officers knew.
General Grant's simple instructions to his men at Vicksburg -- to remember that our guests tomorrow were soldiers and that the meeting was an unarmed one; from circumstances, our guests would need to be fed and lodged, the best of our power, and that the incident of stacking arms should take place without the presence of mor than a picket guard, and later the men of both armies might meet unarmed and thus fraternize like the "picket's truce.' Grant and Pemberton met under the truce preceding capitulation under the "Vicksburg Oak." General A. J. Smith, General McPherson stood on the earthworks to the right and chated with General Bowden and Colonel Montgomery of General Pemberton's staff. (The only ones alive as of 1896) are the veteran editor Charles A. Dana and me (the artist - Theo. R. Davis). There were courtesies by and between soldiers which were not made prominent to the officers--the boys did it in their own way. The soldiers as well as officers, treated the surrendered soldiers like guests--not prisoners.
There other like stories in this book -- Reading through them and other accounts. I believe those men of those Civil War days, knew when it was time to be soldiers and knew when it was time to be gentlemen and extend every kindness as possible. The 'golden rule.'
At the time of Vicksburg, General Grant was just another 'general.' He was another veteran. He was not under mandate from the President. However, I am of the belief that word of mouth travels far and wide about what General is worthy of respect or that of avoiding. The 'touching' exchange of a federal troop mascot (the dog) to General Pemberton and witnessed by the daughter of General Dockery --and naming the dog Truce is perhaps 'telling.'
Further, General Grant and his forces did not 'have to' treat prisoners so well. Standard rations and such--however, General Grant and his forces did set the 'tone' per se--on the 'gentleman's code of conduct.'
This is why, I do believe the story of Barlow and General Gordon as well as other intimate stories that happened on the field of battle between the Blue and the Gray. I know it was an entirely different time and different 'manners' of the day. I feel that any attempt to place our 'present values' cannot supersede what those who were there speak of. We can only go in endless circles. At times--you just have to believe they speak of the truth from their own standards of it.
In this same book, Under Both Flags - A Panorama of the Great Civil War; Colonel Marshall, closes aide to General Robert E. Lee and present at the surrender to General Grant at Appomattox, spoke for a good while in giving his eulogy at Grant's funeral. Colonel Marshall spoke of great respect and how much General Grant meant to the Confederate veterans, in all things in the surrendering of the Confederate Army--General Grant made it dignified and respectful. With every opportunity to be harsh or bitter, there was none. It was General Grant's extention of respectful dignity of fellow soldiers that won admiration by all, to include him personally.
So, as we know-- General James Longstreet having knowledge of General Grant, being his best man at his wedding--knew Grant would be a very fair man. Preserving the Union was very important to Lincoln, Grant and so many others --and, orders were given there would be no celebration at the Appomattox surrendering of arms -- All, things--like Vicksburg--would be treating the former foe as guests--not prisoners.
I cannot say for other Generals if they would have been such 'gentlemen.'
I am sure Generals like W. S. Hitchock and men like him, would be as kind as General Grant. I don't think General T. Stonewall Jackson would have been so 'kind.' The same with other 'hot heads' like General Sheriden who still wanted to wipe out the Confederates entirely--to every last man--'The Black Flag.' It just took General Lee to take the steps to end the senseless slaughter.
I heard somebody say, "When the myth becomes true, print the myth!" - that kind've applies here because EVEN IF FALSE, at the very least, the underlying hope of the author is that both North and South will find empathy in the other's suffering during the war.
Someone else said, why let facts interfer with a good story?
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