“…People who say slavery had nothing to do with the war are just as wrong as people who say slavery had everything to do with the war. That was a very complicated civic thing…it’s always been identified as a war over slavery, believe me, no soldier on either side gave a damn about the slaves. They were fighting for other reasons entirely in their minds. Southerners thought they were fighting the Second American Revolution, Northerners thought they were fighting to hold the Union together. And that held true throughout the whole war, except for some people who were absolute poisons on both sides fire-eaters in South Carolina, and abolitionists in Massachusetts, but most of the people were fighting because… southerners once said I’m fighting because you’re down here, if you want to invade my home you got me to fight. Others say you’re trying to tear the fabric of the Union therefore you should be put down and not allowed to do what you think you want to do. It’s a very complicated subject, and I’m sorry to see it degenerate into such things.”
-Shelby Foote
-Shelby Foote
Forwarded from The Wardrobe 👑
“I think it better to do right, even if we suffer in so doing, than to incur the reproach of our consciences and posterity.” — Robert E Lee’s Maxims for Young Gentlemen
Painting of Gen. Lee ennoscriptd:
“Oh, I Wish He Was Ours!”
Those who had seen the General at the time of the first invasion of Maryland remarked that he had aged perceptibly in ten months, but Southern sympathizers did not lionize him less on that account, and even one Northern girl who persisted in waving a Union flag was heard to say as he passed, "Oh, I wish he was ours"
“Oh, I Wish He Was Ours!”
Those who had seen the General at the time of the first invasion of Maryland remarked that he had aged perceptibly in ten months, but Southern sympathizers did not lionize him less on that account, and even one Northern girl who persisted in waving a Union flag was heard to say as he passed, "Oh, I wish he was ours"
“I was at the battle of Gettysburg myself, and an incident occurred there which largely changed my views of the Southern people. I had been a most bitter anti-Southman, and fought and cursed the Confederates desperately. I could see nothing good in any of them. The last day of the fight I was badly wounded. A ball had shattered my left leg. I lay on the ground not far from Cemetery Ridge, and as General Lee ordered his retreat, he and his officers rode near me. As they came along, I recognized him and, though faint from exposure and loss of blood, I raised up my hands, looked Lee in the face, and shouted as loud as I could, ‘Hurrah for the Union!’
The General heard me, looked, stopped his horse, dismounted and came toward me. I confess that I at first thought he meant to kill me. But as he came up he looked down at me with such a sad expression upon his face that all fear left me, and I wondered what he was about. He extended his hand to me, and grasping mine firmly and looking right into my eyes said, “My son, I hope you will soon be well.”
If I live a thousand years I shall never forget the expression on General Lee’s face. There he was, defeated, retiring from a field that had cost him and his cause almost their last hope, and yet he stopped to say words like those to a wounded soldier of the opposition who had taunted him as he passed by! As soon as the General had left me, I cried myself to sleep there upon the bloody ground.”
-Marcus J Wright
From a narrative from a collection of first-hand accounts found in “Civil War Treasury” edited by B.A. Botkin
The General heard me, looked, stopped his horse, dismounted and came toward me. I confess that I at first thought he meant to kill me. But as he came up he looked down at me with such a sad expression upon his face that all fear left me, and I wondered what he was about. He extended his hand to me, and grasping mine firmly and looking right into my eyes said, “My son, I hope you will soon be well.”
If I live a thousand years I shall never forget the expression on General Lee’s face. There he was, defeated, retiring from a field that had cost him and his cause almost their last hope, and yet he stopped to say words like those to a wounded soldier of the opposition who had taunted him as he passed by! As soon as the General had left me, I cried myself to sleep there upon the bloody ground.”
-Marcus J Wright
From a narrative from a collection of first-hand accounts found in “Civil War Treasury” edited by B.A. Botkin