Critic’s Corner — October 2019

Originally published October 2019 · pp. 40

Voices of the Civil War Series, Peter Carmichael, Series Editor. For my What the Yankees Did to Us (2012), I drew upon a number of Union soldiers’ letters, memoirs and diaries. Some of them were unpublished, from libraries and archives. In meum opus pingue (Latin for “my fat work”—it was 527 pages!) I thanked the late, great Albert Castel. When I was reading Dr. Castel’s draft of Decision in the West in the summer of 1990, Albert told me that he had researched beyond Sherman’s capture of the city, into its occupation by Union troops. He once thought of including the Federal occupation in his book, and had accumulated research material on it; but by then he had sufficient text already for a sturdy volume. Subsequently, in the rarest display of scholarly generosity I have ever encountered, Dr. Castel sent me his photocopies of Union soldiers’ manuscripts and diaries concerning the occupation, most from Northern libraries and archives that I could never hope to visit. Albert surprised me further when my Atlanta Will Fall: Sherman, Joe Johnston, and the Yankee Heavy Battalions was published in 2001. Unknown to me, my publisher had sent my draft to him, asking for a pre-publication assessment. Imagine my surprise when the first copy of my book arrived, and I read Albert’s blurb on the back cover: “Demolishes old myths and replaces them with new truths, and does so in a fashion that is as hard-hitting as a 20-pounder Parrott shell striking its target. To be read with profit and joy.” (Wherever you are, thank you, Albert!) But back to the published literature of the occupation, which is rich and diverse. Every now and then it behooves us armchair historians to put aside the increasingly microscopic battle histories and generals’ biographies, and get the real scoop on the war, which is to say, from the writings of the soldiers themselves. In my research on the Union occupation of our city, one of the most valuable sources I found was A Legacy of Valor: The Memoirs and Letters of Captain Henry Newton Comey, 2nd Massachusetts Infantry. It has been edited by Lyman Richard Comey; Captain Comey was his great-grandfather’s cousin. Publication was by the and death, frequent skepticism of their officers, yet selfless perseverance through patriotic ardor and loyalty to comrades. Even in our armchair, reading such writing today can be for us an uplifting, emotional encounter. Stephen Davis is Book Review Editor for CWN. His What the Yankees Did to Us was published in 2012 by Mercer University Press.

A Legacy of Valor: The Memoirs and Letters of Captain Henry Newton Comey, 2nd Massachusetts Infantry. Edited by Lyman Richard Comey. University of Tennessee Press, 2004.

violent death and dying, and I knew I would be forever changed in some way by that experience.” Captain Comey’s service with the 2nd Massachusetts extended to the western theater, as he followed Sherman into Georgia and the Carolinas. Through his words, artfully edited by Lyman Comey from their three sources, we have a chance yet again to understand the soldier’s experience: hardship and suffering, violence

University of Tennessee Press in its “Voices of the Civil War” Series in 2004. Henry Comey was 21, recently graduated from Phillips Exeter Academy, when he enlisted as a private in Co. G, 2nd Massachusetts Infantry, on May 14, 1861. He was promoted corporal in June 1862, 1st sergeant three months later, and second lieutenant in January 1863. In letters, a diary, and a memoir (written just after the war), Comey described his experiences with an arresting admixture of sensitivity and erudition. At Kernstown he saw a man’s head blown off by cannon-shot. “It was the worst sight I have ever seen in my life, and I would never forget it….but I will never be able to find the words to describe it.” Throughout his experience, in fact, Comey found it hard to put into writing what a soldier saw. This reminds me of what I read decades ago about English Victorians: it wasn’t that they were prudish about sexuality; they just hadn’t developed the vocabulary to express it. Slightly wounded at Cedar Mountain, Comey opined, “soldiers are so poorly informed that they often do not know much about their regiment’s success or failure in a particular battle.” More, soldiers exercised a very justified right to question the generals’ take on a battle. Comey did: “General Pope [says] that the battle of Cedar Mountain was a ‘great victory.’ We have great doubt about that. Possibly somebody’s purpose was accomplished, but the members of the Second beg to say that ours was not.” After Antietam, Comey again found words wanting to describe what he had seen in a letter of September 18: “You must not wonder if I don’t write you. You would not if you knew.” Then, after Chancellorsville, where he “had splattered in my face twice, men’s brains,” Comey confessed to his father that he had “so much to write, everything is mixed up.” On the third morning of Gettysburg, Comey, a captain by now, overheard his regimental commander question an order to attack the Rebels. “Are you sure that is the order?” “Yes,” answered the courier. “Well, it is murder, but it’s the order. Up, men; over the works.” Later, Comey buried the body of his colonel. Seeing such things, Comey recorded what many of his comrades concluded: “I had learned a hard lesson of loyalty, courage and valor which I would never forget. I had also learned about