Guerilla Warfare
Guerilla Warfare
Guerilla Warfare
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access to Journal of the Civil War Era
In 1861, on the very eve of the Civil War, Edmund Ruffin published a
speculative novel titled Anticipations of the Future: To Serve as Lessons
for the Present Time, in the Form of Extracts of Letters from an English
Resident of the United States, to the London Times, from 1864 to 1870.1
It has never quite enjoyed the attention from historians that it deserves.
Ruffin did fairly well in anticipating the future. He foresaw urban riots
in the North during a civil war with the South, though he thought they
would arise from class consciousness rather than objections to conscrip-
tion. He predicted that the states of the Old Northwest would eventually
cleave to the southern confederacy, and indeed anxieties about that possi-
bility were often expressed during the actual Civil War of 1861–65. On his
most important point, namely, that guerrilla warfare would lead to south-
ern independence, he was proved wrong, but he looked hopefully to see its
embrace by Confederate society throughout the war.2
What is most significant about the book is simply that Ruffin was think-
ing about the future in 1861, about what might happen if the South really
seceded, trying to figure out how the slave states might gain independence
despite the North’s great military advantages. It is difficult to find any sub-
stantial consideration of those questions in books or pamphlets published
in the South on the eve of secession; arguments over the constitutional-
ity of the act of secession itself dominated the polemical literature of the
day. Emory M. Thomas, after writing many works on the Confederacy, still
wonders at the lack of foresight displayed in the immediate origins of the
Civil War and raises the question, “Both sides, it seems, decided to go to
war because they could not—or would not—calculate the cost of their deci-
sions.”3 Thus Ruffin stands out. Say what one will about his amateurish
exercise in futurist fiction, he was thinking about the apparently unthink-
able: what would happen if the South really did secede from the Union
and faced a war with the North, which was obviously greatly superior in
population, transportation, and manufacturing. The dangerous resort to
37 6
37 8 j ou rnal of t h e c iv i l wa r e ra , volum e 6 , i s s u e 3
Along with this quiet retention of social distance came the imposition of
chivalry and restraint, and the novel is replete with instances in which sol-
diers are schooled in sparing their prisoners of war.
The most important lesson for secession, of course, was the lesson of all
successful guerrilla warfare, the accomplishment of military victory with
inferior numbers and resources. That was the important point made in
Simms’s description of Colonel Marion himself, as “the subtle ‘Swamp Fox,’
who, slender of form, and having but little confidence in his own physical
prowess, was never seen to use his sword in battle; gaining by stratagem
and unexpected enterprise those advantages which his usual inferiority
of force would never have permitted him to gain otherwise.”15 The parti-
sans are always outnumbered in their ambushes of the enemy. In short,
the South could win victories by partisan warfare despite inferior numbers
and resources, and, though it proved bloody and destructive of farms and
homes, the officers could keep that warfare well above the level of savagery.
Slavery remained generally secure.
Over the years, Simms’s romances on the American Revolution in
South Carolina, of which The Partisan was the first volume to appear, have
been variously interpreted, but one central point has been consistently
Tucker rushed his book to press, unfinished. But he had made his point.
The final action in the book, an ambush, is but a skirmish, but it shows the
way to the future and to southern independence. “Marksmen” described
as “mountaineers” play the key role in the rebels’ victory, ambushing the
enemy emerging from a defile in the mountains.21Tucker did not live to see
Virginia and other states attempt their independence. He died almost a
decade before secession. But The Partisan Leader spoke to the new age: an
edition of his book was published in Richmond in 1862.22
Edmund Ruffin’s rich descriptions of guerrilla warfare, written a quar-
ter century after The Partisan Leader, were fully the equals of Simms’s
and Tucker’s. Anticipations of the Future, which appeared in Richmond
just before the war began, has as its hero “a guerrilla officer,” identified
only as “J.M.” The action takes place in the future, during the presidency of
William H. Seward, who succeeds Abraham Lincoln and whose term com-
mences in 1865. After suffering years of northern tyranny and corruption,
southern states secede and war ensues. The plot hinges on the subsequent
military action. Though a guerrilla and in command of a small force, J.M.
is a West Point graduate and conducts his operations according to the rules
and customs of war in terms of taking prisoners. He is, however, also a
West Virginian (a native of Wheeling) and not a member of a first family
of Virginia from the Tidewater aristocracy. The action he conducts is not
a military set-piece in open field with glories attendant but an ambush,
pure and simple, made possible by treachery and insider information.
The battle takes place at night and involves derailing troop trains invad-
ing Virginia, a feat made possible by J.M.’s previous peacetime position
in management in the railroad company. The odds are very great against
the southerners in terms of numbers, but the exploitation of the mountain
terrain and surprise render the vastly larger and well-disciplined Union
forces subject to great slaughter. In short, the focus of the military action
in the book is on “extensive guerrilla operations” on the part of the South
against the northern invaders.23
When the scene in the book shifts to the West, the nature of warfare
depicted remains the same: guerrilla war waged against the advancing
United States army , in this instance at the Ohio River:
On the third day of the march . . . when the [United States] army had
advanced only twenty-five miles, altogether, enemies began to be felt,
In scenes like this one, Ruffin joined his vision of the future of the South to
familiar American myths of military superiority. The myth of the hunters
of Kentucky, whose rifles and marksmanship had been celebrated as the
key to Gen. Andrew Jackson’s victory over the British at New Orleans in
1815, proved readily adaptable to southern nationalism from the start.25
Ruffin was less concerned than Simms and Tucker with the aristocratic
qualifications of the officer leading the partisans. He paid attention to dis-
tinguishing social characteristics for the common soldiery. Here is a scene
from his imagined military campaign in Virginia:
The late temporary cessation of firing, and of all annoyance of the
invading army had been made by order of the commander of the mili-
tia army, and which order it was very difficult to persuade the hunter-
riflemen of the neighboring country to obey. The destruction of bridges,
and the show of offering battle, had been used to draw the regular army
into the most difficult ground, where its superiority in discipline, and its
artillery, would be of no value. And as soon as these ends were reached,
the whole power of the irregular force was put in action. No regular
battle, on open ground, was to be offered, or accepted, by any party of
the Virginians, whether large or small. But, on their march, every cover
or place of concealment was to be made use of for ambush, or to make
advantage of for firing on the enemy. The riflemen occupied every such
place along the line of the march of the regular army; and those of the
■ What Ruffin’s book and the others alert us to is the easy acceptance
of the idea of a guerrilla strategy from the very start of the Confederate
experiment—in popular imagination, that is, not in the minds of the West
Point generals who actually commanded Confederate armies.27 The idea of
guerrilla warfare enjoyed broad popular support in the Confederacy from
the very start—in so far as public opinion can be assessed from popular
printed works and from the newspapers. Despite natural fears of slave
revolt, always operative in southern society, there is evidence, at the begin-
ning of their national experiment at least, of willing and mythic identifica-
tion with guerrilla warfare in popular beliefs in the Confederacy. The point
here is not that the Confederacy might have gained its independence that
way. That is a hypothetical or counter-factual question for military histori-
ans to decide. The point is that, at the time, many southerners thought they
might win through guerrilla warfare or that guerrilla warfare would likely
be one of the ways they would win, among others, and that they apparently
had confidence that it would not greatly disturb slavery.28
John Hunt Morgan, on the one hand, and bushwhackers and sadists like
William Quantrill, “Bloody Bill” Anderson, and other Missouri guerrillas,
on the other hand.32
As for the national American myth of partisan warfare, a widespread
belief in American superiority in fighting in ways learned from wars with the
Native Americans and often believed to have been employed successfully
against the disciplined redcoats in the American Revolution informed the
American conception of military history. The trend was greatly accelerated
by the myths surrounding the Battle of New Orleans in 1815, which cele-
brated the role played by Kentucky and Tennessee riflemen—again against
disciplined redcoats—at precisely the moment that American nationalism
was most obviously forged.33 Always the idea was that the way Americans
fought was superior for its individualism, marksmanship, and camouflage,
and could be readily contrasted with the ways of warfare in Europe.
■ And neither did anyone else among the less systematic thinkers and
writers in the Confederacy. The beginning of the actual war in 1861 did
nothing to dampen the confidence of white southerners in the valuable
contribution that partisan warfare could make to Confederate indepen-
dence. Their hopes were loosely expressed in newspapers and even in the
popular names the eager volunteers took for their military units in 1861.
A remark of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s predicting that the outcome of the war
would be decided by very different means than partisan warfare provoked
one of the first affirmations of the usefulness of guerrillas. In May 1861
the press reported that Lee had said that the coming war would “be one
of artillery.” The editors of the Charleston Mercury refused to believe that
Lee had “committed himself to any such absurdity.” The “strength of the
South,” they insisted, “will consist in its cavalry and its riflemen, this is our
strength, and in its individuality of personal character, which involves the
whole secret of guerilla or partisan warfare.” These “attributes” had “made
the Southern a military people, par excellence.”52
The essence of the myth of guerrilla warfare in southern history lay in
confidence in the yeomen, when properly organized and guided by plant-
ers—just as it was depicted in the imaginary fiction of the antebellum
years. After all, surely the yeomen and not the cavaliers enjoyed the famil-
iarity with deer rifles and possessed the expertise in hunting and camp-
ing that made this sort of war successful in the swamps and mountains
of the South. Still awaiting the actual “invasion” of the South, the editors
of the Charleston Mercury in the next month termed the ideal defense
“what we may call extempore warfare, including what is called the war of
partisans and guerillas.” “These are simply the militia of a country,” they
explained, “seizing whatever weapon offers, and cutting off the advance,
the rear guards and the foraging parties of the foe.” Such a form of war
was specially suited to the “vast dense forests,” the “swamp retreats,” and
the “thousand defiles” of the South. The Mercury recalled the example of
“Marion’s Men” in the American Revolution and of the legendary “Robin
Hood,” and touted the efficacy of the “good old double-barrelled deer gun”
■ Alas for the dreamers, the group most likely to express reservations
about the employment of guerrillas in the Confederacy was the higher
command of the Confederate armies. We should not generalize from the
attitudes of those professionals to the society at large. On that score the
Confederate high command was not representative at all. From begin-
ning to end, Robert E. Lee was opposed. It has become one of the most
frequently repeated anecdotes about Lee to recall his conversation with
the artillery general Edmund Porter Alexander on the eve of the surren-
der at Appomattox on April 9, 1865. To Alexander’s suggestion to disperse
the Army of Northern Virginia into the interior to fight as guerillas, Lee
responded that he had no use for war in which soldiers had “no rations” and
were “under no discipline.” “Already demoralized by four years of war,” the
fugitive soldiers “would have to plunder & rob to procure subsistence. The
country would be full of lawless bands in every part, & and a state of society
would ensue from which it would take the country years to recover.”86 Even
early in the war, Lee looked to artillery and not bushwhackers to decide the
fate of the Confederacy. Though he then served in hardscrabble western
Virginia, operations there did not alter his point of view. Four years later, at
the end, Lee still turned a cold shoulder to partisan warfare. And when he
did so, he did not mention slavery, and, if he was like Confederates who did
admire guerrilla warfare, he likely was not even thinking about slavery.87
Yet many Confederates thrilled to the prospect of irregular and partisan
warfare as a way of winning against the greater numbers and resources of
the North. In fact, that infatuation with guerrilla warfare, nurtured over
the years in the South from the Revolution to the war by such romantics
as William Gilmore Simms, helps explain the nature of public opinion
early in the life of the Confederacy. In retrospect, the odds seemed so long
against the Confederacy that they caused the historian Richard N. Current,
later the editor of the Encyclopedia of the Confederacy, to wonder, while
writing an essay on Confederate defeat in one of the most influential of
books on the subject, “Why did the South even risk a war in which she
was all but beaten before the first shot was fired?”88 There seems to have
been altogether too much reliance on Confederate bluster as an explana-
tion for public opinion: the oft-quoted belief that one southerner could
whip ten Yankees.
notes
William A. Blair encouraged me and helped me a great deal with this manuscript.
Carol Reardon gave it a useful reading in its early stages. The anonymous readers for
this journal also offered genuinely helpful advice.
1. Edmund Ruffin, Anticipations of the Future to Serve as Lessons for the Present
Time, in the Form of Extracts of Letters from an English Resident of the United States,
to the London Times, from 1864 to 1870 (Richmond, Va.: J. W. Randolph, 1860).
2. Daniel E. Sutherland, A Savage Conflict: The Decisive Role of Guerrillas in the
American Civil War (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2009), 27,
29–30, 265–66.
3. Emory M. Thomas, The Dogs of War, 1861 (New York: Oxford University Press,
2011), 6.
4. Gary W. Gallagher, The Confederate War: How Popular Will, Nationalism, and
Military Strategy Could Not Stave Off Defeat (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1997), 127, 141, 143, 148, 150.
5. Reid Mitchell, “The Perseverance of the Soldiers,” in Why the Confederacy Lost,
ed. Gabor S. Boritt (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 125; Richard E. Beringer
et al., Why the South Lost the Civil War (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1986),
346; George M. Fredrickson, Why the Confederacy Did Not Fight a Guerrilla War after
the Fall of Richmond: A Comparative View (Gettysburg, Pa.: Gettysburg College, 1996),