Civil War

Three Fictional Encounters in Three Factual Events

July 16, 2025 By Glynn Young Leave a Comment

In my novel Brookhaven, the teenaged Sam McClure has three fateful encounters with John Haygood. The three happen in successive years, and each of the three involve Civil War military operations.

I was reminded of this when Emerging Civil War posted articles on two of the three operations a week apart this month.

The first encounter happens during Grierson’s Raid, an operation ordered by Ulysses S. Grant to distract the Confederates during his siege of Vicksburg in 1863. Some 1,700 Union cavalrymen rode through Mississippi, starting at the Tennessee border and finishing in Union-occupied Louisiana. They tore up railroad track and caused considerable havoc, but more importantly, they kept the Confederates focused away from Grant transferring his army across the river to besiege Vicksburg from the east.

One of the towns visited by Grierson’s cavalrymen was Brookhaven, where they burned the train station and tore up track. In the novel, Captain Haygood meets Sam in the McClure General Store, where Sam’s grandfather is accidentally pushed against a counter and dies in the boy’s arms. Sam later hears a conversation between Haygood and Sam’s mother Louisa, and he realizes what their relationship had been years before. It’s that knowledge which sets the story of Sam’s enlistment in the Confederate Army into motion.

*An artist’s depiction of trying to escape the fires with wounded during the Battle of the Wilderness. (Library of Congress)*

The second encounter happens a year later, during the Battle of the Wilderness near Richmond. Samis carrying messages between generals, and in the thick of the fighting, he meets John Haygood once again, this time at the point of a pistol.

This battle was horrendous, even in the context of all the other Civil War battles. The Wilderness was dense scrub forest. The weather had been dry for weeks, and Union artillery shells ignited the dense, dry woods into a blazing inferno. The Union guns are said to have killed more of their own army’s men than anything the Confederates did. Wounded men, unable to escape on foot, often shot themselves rather than be burned alive.

The Emerging Civil War story I read on July 3 was about an Australian general in World War I, Sir John Monash, who is considered to be one of the best generals of that war. One reason is how closely he studied the American Civil War’s Battle of the Wilderness and how Grant modified his strategic objectives. I’m neither a veteran nor a military historian, but I read so much about the battle for the novel that I think I felt like one.

*A depiction of the Union breakthrough at Petersburg, April 2, 1865. (Library of Congress)*

The third encounter between young Sam McClure and John Haygood happens during another military encounter, the final Battle of Petersburg. Petersburg, south of Richmond, was an important railroad junction to keep Richmond and Lee’s army supplied. It had been under Union pressure for a considerable period, and the pressure was finally working. Petersburg’s fall forced Lee (and the Confederate government) to abandon Richmond. Lee fled west, reaching the town of Appomattox Courthouse, where he surrendered.

Sam, still running messages between armies, takes cover in the woods during a Union cavalry charge. And it is the mortally wounded John Haygood whose horse collapses there, almost at Sam’s feet. This third and final encounter will lead to a meeting two years later.

I don’t such a cavalry charge took place in fact, but Emerging Civil War published an article July 11 that described the final piercing of Petersburg’s defense on April 2, 1865. That would be the date of Sam’s final meeting with Haygood. A week later, Lee surrendered. (I deliberately chose April 9 as Sam’s birthday; the surrender happened the day Sam turned 15.)

I probably shouldn’t be surprised; this is what happens with historical novels. But I find myself still taken with how factual reports continue to bring me right back to the story I wrote.

Related:

Bloody Promenade by Stephen Cushman.

The Battle of the Wilderness by Gordon Rhea.

Echoes of the Wilderness: Grant, Lee, and Monash’s Art of War – Leigh Goggin at Emerging Civil War.

Petersburg Breakthrough – Edward Alexander at Emerging Civil War.

Top illustration: Major Benjamin Grierson and his cavalry make a triumphant entry into Union-controlled Baton Rouge at the conclusion of their famous raid through Mississippi. (Library of Congress)

“Mosby’s Rangers” by James Joseph Williamson

July 9, 2025 By Glynn Young 2 Comments

In my novel Brookhaven, I have the 13-year-old Sam McClure sent to the Confederate army in the East. His father had fought with Robert E. Lee in the Mexican American War, and Lee hoped that the young Sam had learned some of his father’s espionage and survival skills. The young man is assigned to a unit called Colby’s Rangers, and after a few weeks of basic training is sent with others to prepare for Lee’s invasion of the North, which culminated in the Battle of Gettysburg.

The model for Colby’s Rangers in the novel is an actual unit called Mosby’s Rangers. It was less involved in espionage and more involved in disruptions of federal lines, camps, and supply lines. When General Jeb Stuart “rode around” the Union army of George McClellan in 1862, it was Mosby’s Rangers leading the cavalry.

Beginning in April 1863, James Joseph Williamson was a private who gained what many Confederate soldiers and cavalrymen desired – a spot in Mosby’ Rangers. Some 44 years later in 1909, he published a memoir of his time with the unit, which stretched to the end of the war in 1865. Mosby’s Rangers: A Record of the Operations of the Fourth-Third Battalion Virginia Cavalry, From Its Organization to the Surrender is the title. and it was republished as an e-book in 2018. (It’s also available as an audio book.)

Memoirs of the Civil War by soldiers were common in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries. The Civil War generation was dying out, and much of the story had not been told. Generals had been their memoirs published; Ulysess S. Grant’s memoirs were a bestseller. But now it seemed it was the soldiers and lower officers who were publishing accounts “from the ground level.”

Williamson published two editions in his lifetime; the second corrected errors and added information. He had kept a diary during the war years, and the diary became the basis for the memoir.

It’s a highly readable, interesting, and often thrilling account. John S. Mosby was a Virginian attorney when he joined the Confederate Army. He caught the eye of Jeb Stuart, and he soon became known as one of Stuart’s key men. Mosby’s Rangers operated primarily in the Shenandoah Valley and northern Viriginia, he it’s fair to say they ran circles (literally and figuratively) around Union armies.

He was nicknamed the “Gray Ghost;” his cavalrymen could slip through enemy lines almost like phantoms. One of the most famous of the Rangers’ exploits was in March 1863. In the early morning hours, a group of 30 Rangers led by Mosby discovered a break in Union lines. They traveled several miles to Fairfax County Courthouse and captured Union Brigadier General Edwin Stoughton, two captains, 30 soldiers, and nearly 60 horses without a shot being fired to a man lost. And then they made their way back to Confederate lines. The story electrified the South and outraged the North; it also earned Mosby a promotion. After Stuart’s death, Mosby reported directly to Lee.

Williamson was one of the 29 men who accomplished “the impossible raid,” and his account is riveting.

Mosby survived the war, despite a bounty placed on his head by Grant. Impressed by what Mosby had accomplished, Grant would pardon him when he became President. They became friends, and Mosby – to the dismay of his Southern fans – became a Republican and worked to unify the country. His popularity diminished rapidly.

Mosby’s Rangers is a great story, told first-hand by a man who was there and saw it happen.

Top photograph: A group of Mosby’s Rangers, with Mosby in the center.

“Glorious Courage: John Pelham in the Civil War” by Sarah Kay Bierle

June 25, 2025 By Glynn Young Leave a Comment

In my research for my novel Brookhaven, it was difficult not to run across references to one particular officer.

John Pelham was an Alabama boy, the third of three sons and born in 1838 in a small wooden house in rural Benton County. His father was a doctor and farmer, enjoying both community respect and economic success. The family’s reputation was such that John’s father was able to get an appointment for his son to the U.S. Military Academy. The young man arrived at West Point in 1856, enrolling in a five-year degree program.

As the rhetoric of the years leading up to the Civil War became increasingly heated, West Point must have become a strange place – outwardly uniform but inwardly affected by the same passions rearing the country apart. John left the academy in 1861, one month shy of graduation. Like other Southerners at West Point, he was being closely watched as secession tore the country apart. He made his way to New York City and then to border-state Kentucky, finally reaching home. Just as he’d been watched by his commanding officers at West Point, he’d also been observed by their Southern counterparts, who were keen to make use of his military training.

For the rest of his short life – he would be mortally wounded aged 24 at the Battle of Kelly’s Ford in 1863 – John Pelham became the stuff of legend. Historian Sarah Kay Bierle has spent years studying in his life, separating fact from myth. The facts of his military prowess didn’t need myth and legend to enhance his reputation. Despite almost all of his letters having disappeared, she’s been able to reconstruct his life and accomplishments from the letters and reports of others as well as official records and reports.

Bierle has succinctly and compellingly summarized it all in Glorious Courage: John Pelham in the Civil War.

And what an enthralling story it is.

Pelham proved the utility of the horse artillery. Have horses pull artillery pieces meant they could be moved frequently and strategically during battle. Pelham demonstrated the value – and his own – during the battles of the Peninsular Campaign, First and Second Manassas (Bull Run), Antietam, and Fredericksburg, among several others. He caught the eye of Confederate generals like Stonewall Jackson, Jeb Stuart, and Robert E. Lee. He was promoted to major and then recommended for a promotion to lieutenant colonel, which was pending at the time of his death.

He became known as the “Gallant John Pelham;” it was Lee who described his “glorious courage” (and inspired the title of Bierle’s book). In the years after the war, the legends cropped up around him; it seems every young Southern woman had had a romance with him. (And while it was in a different context, it was Pelham who inspired one aspect of the main character in my novel – how legends get born that often have no basis in fact.)

Bierle is what’s called a public historian, working in the field of Civil War education and battlefield preservation. She’s written articles and essays for numerous publications, including Emerging Civil War, and is a frequent speaker on Civil War topics. Her previous publications include Decisions at Chancellorsville, War in the Western Theater, and Call Out the Cadets: The Battle of New Market, May 15, 1864.

Glorious Courage is a fascinating read. It does what good history should do – separate fact from fable and present a person or event as it should be. In the case of John Pelham, he didn’t need legends to enhance his reputation, and Bierle serves her subject very well indeed.

Related:

Martha Pelham’s Letter: Finding Colorful Details for John Pelham’s 1858 Summer – Sarah Kay Bierle at Emerging Civil War.

Artillery: John Pelham – Artilleryman, Gallant Fool, Splendid Boy – Sarah Kay Bierle at Emerging Civil War.

Podcast: Historian Sarah Kay Bierle on ‘Gallant’ John Pelham – John Banks’ Civil War Blog.

Top photograph: One of there three known photo of John Pelham.

“Fred Grant at Vicksburg” by Albert Nofi

June 4, 2025 By Glynn Young Leave a Comment

When I wrote my historical novel Brookhaven, I was aware of this story, but I didn’t know it in terms of the color and details. Now I do.

In the spring of 1863, Frederick Dent Grant was 12 going on 13. He’d been born in St. Louis. His mother was Julia Dent Grant, daughter of a slaveowner in St. Louis County. His father was Ulysses S. Grant, general in the Union Army, who was now encamped down the Mississippi River, charged with taking Vicksburg, the last Confederate fortification not in Union hands along the Mississippi. Memphis, New Orleans, and Baton Rouge were all in Union hands; Vicksburg was the last impediment to Union control of the river.

And then Grant did something that would seem almost inexplicable to parents today. In early March of 1863, he sent for his oldest son Fred to join him for the Vicksburg campaign. Fred’s mother also did something inexplicable – she let him go, although she did keep nine-year-old Ulysses Jr. with her and the family.

Fred Grant was one thrilled boy. He would talk about it, and give speeches on it, for the rest of his life.

Far from being watched, monitored, or babysat by an orderly, Fred had almost free roam the camps and even many of the battles. His father would occasionally try to keep him in a safe place, but Fred usually found a way to experience the excitement. His was with the army for numerous battles around Vicksburg, traveled with the army for the Battle of Jackson, and was there when Vicksburg surrendered. He also came down with a common soldier’s ailment – dysentery – and was eventually sent home to St. Louis to recuperate.

Many of Fred’s speeches still exist, and he wrote down his account of the experience in memoir form. Historian Albert Nofi had assembled many of these sources and edited Fred Grant at Vicksburg: A Boy’s Memoir at His Father’s Side During the American Civil War. Fred’s account in not a series of diary entries but rather the adult son of the Union general looking back on one of the most important engagements of the Civil War. While the Battle of Gettysburg usually gets more attention, the fall of Vicksburg established full Union control of the Mississippi River and split the Confederacy in two.

Fred Grant is more than an edited and annotated memoir, however. Nofi provides a succinct and informative introduction and includes several helpful appendices. These are a summary of the Grant and Dent families’ history, short biographies of people and explanations of places mentioned in the text, the order of battle, military terminology, and several other helpful sections that help provide context. The book is also profusely illustrated with photographs, including one of the young Fred Grant at about the time of Vicksburg.

Nofi received his Ph.D. in military history from the City University of New York. He’s written more than 40 books on military history and is a founding member and director of the New York Military Affairs Symposium. He lives in New York City.

Fred Grant is a memoir, yes, but it also provides a window of a boy’s perspective of war, his father who happened to be one of the most important figures of the Civil War, and how we remember the formative events of our lives. I’s a thoroughly enjoyable book.

“The Southern Tradition at Bay” by Richard Weaver

May 21, 2025 By Glynn Young 2 Comments

It’s something of an obvious truism to say that “winners write history.” That’s my starting point for considering The Southern Tradition at Bay: A History of Postbellum Thought by Richard Weaver.

First published in 1968, the work was republished in 1989, and then again in the past year. It is a thoughtful examination, or re-examination, of the mind of the South after the Civil War and how Southerners interpreted their defeat. Weaver isn’t about defending the “Lost Cause” as much as is he focused on what was in the mind of the South before the war, what was driving those thoughts, how it developed during the war and after.

If you read the vast majority of histories and commentaries on the Civil War and its causes (and I read more than my fair share during the research for my novel Brookhaven), the vast majority will tell you that the cause, THE cause, was slavery. That determination, however, ignores considerable evidence. Even most northerners believed that the war was about preserving the Union, not to eradicate slavery. Slavery certainly moved more into the driver’s seat with the 1863 Emancipation Proclamation.

Weaver takes a different approach. He spent considerable time and effort examining memoirs, letters, journals, and other “first-hand” materials and concluded that what drove secession and war for the South, and in reverse for the North, was the clash of what was essentially a feudal society motivated by a romantic idealism and the egalitarian, more mechanized ideas born during the French Revolution and eventually finding their way into industrialization. Notions of chivalry were no match for the industrial juggernaut the Northern states were becoming.

These ideas are not merely historical; they still are playing themselves out in culture, politics, and even religion. Consider the writings of Wendell Berry about localism, community, and agriculture, and the research writer Paul Kingsnorth has been doing on what he calls “the machine.” We’re still grappling with many of the same ideas that Weaver saw as bringing on the Civil War and what followed. After the war, Southerners, he says, were outraged at being called traitors; they saw the North as having betrayed the constitution and its principles. This belief seasoned their defenses, eventually leading to the “Lost Cause” idea.

He considers the background or heritage of the war, what the apologists said, what both Southern and Northern soldiers themselves said in letters and memoirs, the fiction that came from the war, what notable figures like Henry Grady (the Atlanta publisher who coined the phrase “the New South”) said and defended, and the writings of the critics of the Southern feudal tradition.

His conclusion: “The South possesses an inheritance which it has imperfectly understood and little used. It is in the curious position of having been right without realizing the grounds of its rightness. I am conscious that this reverses the common judgment; but it may yet appear that the North, by its ready embrace of science and rationalism, impoverished itself, and that the South by clinging more or less unashamedly to the primitive way of life prepared itself for the longer run.”

Weaver (1910-1963) taught English at the University of Chicago, yet he was mostly known for his work on intellectual history, rhetoric, and politics. A native of North Carolina, he received his A.B. degree in English from the University of Kentucky and his M.A. degree from Vanderbilt University. Before the University of Chicago, he taught at Auburn and Texas A&M universities and then returned to school to earn a Ph.D. degree from Louisiana State University. He was influenced by the so-called Agrarians, which included Cleanth Brooks, Robert Penn Warren, and John Crowe Ransom.

His thesis was titled “The Confederate South, 1865-1910: A Study in the Survival of a Mind and a Culture.” It would eventually be published as this book, The Southern Tradition at Bay. Throughout his life, he was strongly associated with political and social conservatives. Having reading the work, it seems that Weaver thoughtfully, quietly, and comprehensively made his case.

The Biography of a Civil War Regiment

April 30, 2025 By Glynn Young 1 Comment

In my historical novel Brookhaven, the elderly Sam McClure recalls his experience with the Iron Brigade in the Civil War. It was of short duration, only about three weeks, but he attached himself to the brigade’s soldiers after the Battle of Gettysburg. He was following his orders; he was all of 13 years old, but he was working as a spy for a Confederate group called Colby’s Rangers.

Sam admits he never really learned anything of importance; what he did was to run errands and keep the soldiers entertained with recitations of poetry by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The brigade suffered a high casualty rate during the war; it was known for its fearlessness. Sam meets up with a bare handful of survivors at the Gettysburg Reunion of 1913, but he never reveals his identity. He listens as the veterans eventually discuss “the boy who recited Mr. Longfellow’s poems.”

He tells his listeners that he’s always felt bad for misleading the men; the reporter Elizabeth Putnam gives him another insight, that he provided a respite to the men from the horrors of war. Her words move Sam to such an extent that he spends time alone in the woods.

Historian James Marten has written a somewhat unusual history of a key part of the Iron Brigade. The Sixth Wisconsin and the Long Civil War: The Biography of a Regiment is not an history of all of the battles the regiment fought in. The battles are included, of course, because they played such an important role in the lives of regiment’s men. But Marten uses the word “biography” very deliberately; he’s not telling the story of the regiment’s history so much as he’s telling the story of men who comprised the regiment. As he writes, the book is a story of “how men made war and what the war made of those men.”

Marten’s subject: the 2,000 men who served in the regiment at one point or another. The men wore distinctive black hats; in fact, they because known as the “Black Hat Brigade” as well as the “Iron Brigade” for their seemingly utter fearlessness. And the regiment was changing fairly constantly; the often horrendous losses suffered required a constant infusion of recruits. And his study goes well beyond the war years of 1861-1865, because while the fighting may have stopped, the impact went on for decades. One could argue that we still feel the impact of the American Civil War.

He addresses four areas: the men’s military history as well as their lives as veterans; what they survived as veterans; how the generation of Civil War men “invented the very idea of war,” and the kind of “constructed community” that the Sixth Wisconsin became. It’s a fascinating way to tell a well-known story.

Marten in a professor emeritus of history at Marquette University. His academic work has focused in two areas: the Civil War and the histories of children and youth. His more than 20 books includes The Children’s Civil War, Sing Not War: The Lives of Union and Confederate Veterans in Gilded Age America, America’s Corporal: James Tanner in War and Peace, and Buying and Selling Civil War Memory in Gilded Age America. He is a past president f the Society of Civil War Historians and the Society for the History of Children and Youth.

The Sixth Wisconsin and the Long Civil War is an extraordinarily well-research account of a famous Civil War regiment, not only through the war years but in the long decades that followed. And it explains why war isn’t only what happens on the battlefield.

Top photograph: Men of the Sixth Wisconsin in their famous black hats.

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