Alternate History Thread III

Hi Althistorians!

By reading some random stuff on the internet i came with this idea.

Real world:

212 BC, second Punic war. After a 2 years long siege, the Roman forces, led by general Marcus Claudius Marcellus, capture Siracusa. Archimedes was contemplating a mathematical diagram when the city was captured. A Roman soldier commanded him to come and meet General Marcellus but he declined, saying that he had to finish working on the problem. The soldier was enraged by this and killed Archimedes with his sword. General Marcellus was reportedly angered by the death of Archimedes, as he had ordered him not to be harmed. (wikipedia)

PoD:

The legionary who found Archimedes was a little less ****** than its real world counterpart and led the famous scientist to general Marcellus despite his unwillingness, with the help of a sword pointed at his neck.

Archimedes was led to Rome in safety, carrying along his work, his papers and his instruments. The Senate had great consideration for his work on military machines and his overall ingenuity. With his "added value", Rome could develop new, more powerful war machines and perfectionate its navy.

His importance for Rome allowed him to enjoy a relative freedom, despite being a war prisoner. He was allowed to talk publicly and teach his knowledge to others. Being somewhat dissatisfied of his job in the military science field, as he was in Syracuse, Archimedes founded a school in Rome, where he could put some effort in what he liked more.

Eventually he died of old age a few years after, not before his school could attract some students and survive despite him. A young scholar, particularly talented, was able to fully understand his researches and even to develop them further.

---

Now, what would have been the consequences of such a diversion? Is it a fertile idea? Could it have changed the following history of Rome in some way?
 
You're just trying to find a point of weakness in our religion...crafty bugger...
Perhaps at one time I did. As of now I have a list of weaknesses a mile long, so I am simply content to extrapolate on the myriad and highly interesting differences between the numerous christological interpretations within the numerous denominational fissions.
 
The legionary who found Archimedes was a little less ****** than its real world counterpart and led the famous scientist to general Marcellus despite his unwillingness, with the help of a sword pointed at his neck.

Archimedes was led to Rome in safety, carrying along his work, his papers and his instruments. The Senate had great consideration for his work on military machines and his overall ingenuity. With his "added value", Rome could develop new, more powerful war machines and perfectionate its navy.

His importance for Rome allowed him to enjoy a relative freedom, despite being a war prisoner. He was allowed to talk publicly and teach his knowledge to others. Being somewhat dissatisfied of his job in the military science field, as he was in Syracuse, Archimedes founded a school in Rome, where he could put some effort in what he liked more.

Eventually he died of old age a few years after, not before his school could attract some students and survive despite him. A young scholar, particularly talented, was able to fully understand his researches and even to develop them further.

---

Now, what would have been the consequences of such a diversion? Is it a fertile idea? Could it have changed the following history of Rome in some way?
Fantastic to see you, tr1cky! I remember the old amazing Rome victory with great fondness...it was one of the first threads I read upon coming to the forums! [/fawn]

If the Senate does decide to grant Archimedes amnesty - he was a war criminal, you know, for designing those terrible machines that sent so many valiant legionaries to their deaths - then things could get very interesting indeed. I always thought that the only reason the Roman Empire collapsed was due to the arrant stupidity of the upper classes, that in turn due to inbreeding and lead poisoning from the pipes (which, IIRC, has already been discussed...) - so if Archimedes designs a good concrete sewer system to work with the Cloaca Maxima (utilizing, of course, his famed "screw" as well) and we never use lead pipes at all, then IMHO Rome could basically run over anything in its way. It's just a little bit inconceivable that a few hundred thousand barbarians could overrun a nation of over 50 million persons who were relatively united and had a superior system of war, and if we remove even the tiniest reasons for Rome to collapse...

Also, (nitpicking here) Rome doesn't need any improvements to her navy - she already controls the waves as of the First Punic War, and naval development basically stops until the Arabs arrive later on, with the lone exception of Agrippa's harpax.

Still, this on the whole is a very interesting idea, and I would be happy to see some kind of TL written with this as the PoD.
 
Going in a slightly different direction than I first envisioned, but oh well.

Wars of Heaven
Chapter 1: Earth’s Funeral Dirge​

To the west, the sun sank, its light being extinguished like a torch being thrust into a bucket of water. Richomeres breathed a sigh of relief as darkness crept across the land. He was safe, at least for now, safe in the lover’s embrace of night, safe from the enemy which had been chasing him like hunting dogs chasing their frightened prey. Richomeres felt like Sisyphus, condemned to roll the same stone up the same hill for eternity, except in his case, it was to fight the same battle against the same enemy, over and over for eternity. Unlike Sisyphus’ punishment which started with his own death, Richomeres’ own trials started with the death of others. It all started with the thrice-cursed Augustus Valens. Richomeres warned him to wait for Augustus Gratian, but that arrogant man wanted the glory of the battle himself, willing to frivolously throw away his men’s lives in exchange for the ability to boast of a victory.

But his men were not the only ones who paid for his lust for a victory. When the two armies met at Adrianople, Valen himself died, killed along with two thirds of the army in the worst Roman defeat since Teutoburg Forest. Richomeres was present for that battle, and vividly remembered hiding in a ditch for several hours, waiting for a chance to escape the roving Goth cavalry which gleefully ran down Romans like they were hunting boar, not humans. Eventually, Richomeres was able to make it to the safety of Augustus Gratian’s camp. Before Richomeres arrived, Gratian was already moving in response to the defeat of his co-Augustus. Richomeres figured that visions of becoming the next Constantine must have danced in Gratian’s head, for instead of appointing a new Augustus for the East, Gratian conferred that title upon himself, marching towards the victorious Goths in order to protect his new realm. But now, Richomeres could swear he was living some Greek tragedy. Already he had seen one Augustus laid low for his hubris, now, just today he had seen the humbling of another. The last he saw of Gratian, he was fleeing the battle, abandoning the same troops he had led to the slaughter. And so now Richomeres was again hiding in a ditch, waiting, waiting to again make his escape from the victorious barbarians. Curses on Valen. Curses on Gratian. Curses on them both for ignoring Richomeres’ advice. If only he was Augustus, then these damned Goths would be the ones cowering in fear. If only…



378 CE would prove to be one of those pivotal years, one that would dam the river of history, changing its flow forever. In a few short months, two Roman Emperors, would lie unburied and unrecognized, their blood fertilizing the fields of Thracia. With them would lie the cream of two Roman armies. As would be expected, the death of two Emperors and the loss of two armies in such short succession provoked cataclysmic events. In the West, the sole remaining Augustus was seven year old Valentinian II, Augustus in name only over Italy, Illyria, and Africa. Into this power vacuum stepped several claimants. To the north, in Britian, the Spanish-Celt general Magnus Maximus declared himself Augustus and invaded Gaul. There, he was met by the Frankish general Merobaudes, who had been magister militum under the recently deceased Gratian. Added to this was the army of Ennodius, proconsul of Africa, who invaded southern Italy, perhaps at the instigation of Ambrose, bishop of Milan, a powerful figure who frequently clashed with the Arian sympathizing court of Valentinian II. Meanwhile, in the East, things were even more confused. With two Roman armies virtually destroyed, the Goths moved unchallenged throughout Thracia, for the remainder of 378.

Meanwhile, every ambitious general in the East raised an army, declaring themselves Augustus. Richomeres, the Comes Domesticorum of the late Gratian, who had participated in both the battle of Adrianople, where Valens died, as well as the battle of Philippopolis, where Gratian met his end, managed to rally the survivors of these two battles. Reinforcing these with newly raised levies and hired mercenaries, as well as stripping the land of their garrisons, Richomeres managed to scrape together 20,000 men. With these men, he declared himself Augustus of the East and started chasing the Goths around Thracia, hoping a victory against them would raise his prestige and help solidify his position. In this task, however, he was thwarted by Frigeridus, who had command of the remnants of Gratian’s army which he had left in Pannonia and who had been marching southward to join Gratian’s army when Gratian had been killed. Taking similar actions as Richomeres, he led an army of 15,000 men. Using these men to back his own claim of Augustus, Frigeridus alternating sparred with both the Goths and Richomeres. To further confuse the issue, various Asian generals also appointed themselves Augustus, though there armies were smaller than one would think as Augustus Valens had depleted the eastern borders in his war against the Goths. Nonetheless, though containing inferior troops than would normally be stationed on the border, these generals had access to the much richer cities of Asia, and so could boast formidable war chests.

Needless to say, the following years were filled with war, intrigue, betrayal, and death. To give justice to the complicated state of affairs at this time would take pages multiplied by pages. Nonetheless, by 380, things had reached a more stable conclusion as smaller armies were defeated and subsumed by larger armies, which in turn clashed with still other armies. In the west, Magnus Maximus had defeated Merobaudes and had carved out an Empire consisting of Hispania, Gaul, and Britannia. In Italy, Ennodius had used the support of the powerful Catholic faction to defeat the Arian supporting Valentinian II, ruling over Italy and western North Africa. By 380, these two had agreed to recognize each other as Augustus and created a relatively stable border along the Alps. Further east, Frigeridus had been driven out of Thracia and had taken up residence in Pannonia, ruling it and most of Illyria. The rest of Europe was claimed by Richomeres, in a peace treaty allowing the rampaging Goths to create out two kingdoms which encompassed most of Macedonia, and Achaia under his authority. Ammanius, holding Asia and North Africa, rounded out the list of surviving claimants to the title of Augustus.

After this, there descended upon the Empire a peace born from exhaustion. However, the seeds of destruction had been planted and it was almost time for the harvest. The east especially had become vulnerable. Because of the war with the Goths, the east had already suffered a manpower crisis as two armies were virtually destroyed. In addition to this, the swath of destruction caused by the Goths depopulated the Balkans, shrinking the pool of potential recruits for the army. This caused both Frigeridus and Richomeres to invite more and more barbarian tribes into the Empire, using them as mercenaries to bolster their forces. These tribes, however, proved to be untrustworthy allies. Having no particular loyalty to any one side, they frequently switched sides or deserted as often as they fought. In addition, as money to pay them ran out, the tribes would turn to plundering the countryside, posing just as much of a threat as the Goths they were brought over to fight. In Asia things were only marginally better. Taking advantage of the Roman infighting, the Sassanid king Shapur II engaged upon his third series of wars with Rome, making significant gains until his death late in 379. His successor, Ardashir II, failed to exploit his advantageous position, and in 380 signed a peace with Ammanius. This peace created a stable border, as afterwards the Sassanids turned inward, Ardashir II more concerned with hunts and women over hitting the weakened Romans. However, though stable, the manpower drain caused by the Roman wars meant that it was vunerable, its stability owing to the Sassanids weakness of will rather than the strength of its defense.

In 382, the fragile peace that had descended was once again shattered, passing away like morning dew before the noonday sun. Since stable borders had first appeared in 380, relations between Richomeres and Ammanius had been strained. Richomeres, wishing to court the favor of both his Gothic sometimes allies as well as his own citizens had promoted the Homoiousion formula championed by the Demophilus, bishop of Constantinople. This policy put him in direct conflict with Ammanius, who championed the homoousion party held by the influential Alexandrian church. In an effort to consolidate their respective positions, each persecuted the party supported by the other. In addition to religious tensions was the more practical political tensions caused by the suspicion each had that the other coveted his land.

These tensions finally erupted into war in 382. Prior to this, the Goths had constructed, or been given, depending on who one believed, a navy, which they used to raid the coast of Ammanius. These raids culminated in what amounted to the invasion of Crete early in 382. Feeling that Richomeres was at best incompetent, unable to control his subjects, and at worst encouraging the attacks against him, Ammanius gathered his armies together, invading Thracia.

Ammanius, however, had vastly underestimated Richomeres. Believing that Richomeres was at the mercy of his barbarian mercenaries, Ammanius gathered together a large war chest, which he planned on using to bribe away the mercenary segments of Richomeres’ army. However, this war chest was captured by Richomeres’ fast moving Gothic cavalry, having the opposite effect from the one intended, as Richomeres used his newly gained money to tie his mercenary force more closely to him. Thus it was, when the two armies met at Apriae, they were more equal than Ammanius had gambled on. During the battle, Richomeres’ Gothic cavalry stationed on his flanks easily routed the Arabian cavalry that opposed them. They then used their superior mobility to wheel on the battlefield, hitting Ammanius’ infantry on their flanks. The infantry, the integrity of their lines already diminished by their own battle with their opposites, broke at this new attack.

The aftermath of this battle was predictable. Ammanius attempted to retreat with the remnants of his broken army, hoping that if he could make it back to Asia, he could raise a new army. Richomeres, of course, did everything he could to prevent this. In this task, his Gothic cavalry again proved its worth, using its superior mobility to harass the infantry. Deprived of their own cavalry as a result of the battle of Apriae, the infantry could do little as the constant attacks turned the retreat into a rout. It was during this rout that Ammanius was captured by the Gothic cavalry, which handed him over to Richomeres, who, predictably enough, had him killed. With Ammanius dead and their army defeated, Asia quickly fell to Richomeres. Unfortunately for him, however, as he would quickly find out, conquering a territory and holding a territory were two different things entirely.
 
It's just a little bit inconceivable that a few hundred thousand barbarians could overrun a nation of over 50 million persons who were relatively united and had a superior system of war, and if we remove even the tiniest reasons for Rome to collapse...

Actually that's all the barbarians ever do. Indeed, the larger and the better-organised a population is, the easier it is to conquer and control if their society's defense mechanisms (a.k.a. the army) malfunction.

I really wouldn't say that being inbred or poisoned was all that important. Ruling classes are practically made to grow corrupt and decadent over time. A better canalisation might help with the demographics somewhat, though.

The Strategos: Richomeres sounds good, as do Gothic kingdoms in the Balkans.

and in 380 signed a peace with Ammanius, creating a stable, if incredibly weak on the Roman side, border.

Hmm?
 
Actually that's all the barbarians ever do. Indeed, the larger and the better-organised a population is, the easier it is to conquer and control if their society's defense mechanisms (a.k.a. the army) malfunction.
When in Roman history did the army "malfunction"? Roman ideas and tactics weren't the problem per se - otherwise, why would European descendants of those same barbarians read De Re Militari and try to adopt superior Roman practice for the next millennium? The key battle - that of Adrianople - was lost through command idiocy, not through an inherent failure of the Roman system.

Good work on the TL, Strategos - although I would have thought that Theodosius would just put himself into power if Gratian didn't do it for him. Also, is Ammanius similar to Ammianus Marcellinus?
 
When in Roman history did the army "malfunction"? Roman ideas and tactics weren't the problem per se - otherwise, why would European descendants of those same barbarians read De Re Militari and try to adopt superior Roman practice for the next millennium? The key battle - that of Adrianople - was lost through command idiocy, not through an inherent failure of the Roman system.

Because even if a book isn't the final word its still import to read, i.e. how Clauswitz is still read even if the circumstances of war have drastically changed. I still think the Romans would have fallen a few centuries later - even winning Adrianople how would the Romans have fared against the Sassanids, the moble steppe armies of the Huns and company, the Viking sea raiders (which a legion style of army formation would have been incapable of dealing with, necessitating major structural reform), or the very moble and fanatic Muslims (this last might be butterflied away but the first two wouldn't have), additionally the germanic barbarians were growing proportional stonger as they adopted roman ideas. Plus there is the whole 'horsehockey economy and economic policies' thing with the end of territorial expansion into semi-developed lands and only having undeveloped lands beyond.

Plus eventually 535–536 is going to kick the northern parts of the Roman empire in the teeth as well ;).
 

Edited for clarity. I was trying to say that the border was stable but it was due to Sassanid inaction, not Roman strength.

Good work on the TL, Strategos - although I would have thought that Theodosius would just put himself into power if Gratian didn't do it for him.

Theodosius was a retired provincial aristocrat when he was appointed co-Augustus. If I remember correctly he was even at Spain at the time (he was born in Spain, and I think he had retired to his family estates there at the time). Without imperial backing, a retired general couldn't do much against two active generals who have a better claim on the remnants of the Roman army in the East.

Also, is Ammanius similar to Ammianus Marcellinus?

Maybe. I couldn't find the name of a governor/general in that area I could use, so I used the "Ammaianus" part of Ammainus Marcellinus' name as my character. All I can say is that he was alive during this time period and in the East. If you want him to be the same one, I have no problem with that, otherwise, just consider it a generic Roman placeholder name.
 
Very good Strategos. Will be very interested to see where you take the triumph of the Homoiousians and the fall in prominence of the Pope of Alexandria's faction.
 
When in Roman history did the army "malfunction"?

When it both grew obsolete and ran out of quality manpower, and so was forced to rely upon more modern and more available but much less reliable barbarian troops.

Also when it started fighting itself more often than it fought foreign incursions. Either way, in the end it failed to perform its functions, for one reason or another. That's called a malfunction. It left the empire open to conquest.

I'd say that the poor Roman economy did have a lot to do with the army's later failings, though technically that kind of degeneration (into warlordism) is natural for an extensive and disparate empire, especially a one held together more by armed force than by civil institutions (a condition pretty much dictated by the aforementioned disparity and diversity).

I was trying to say that the border was stable but it was due to Sassanid inaction, not Roman strength.

So the Sassanids failed to make any long-term gains?
 
Indeed, the fall of Rome it was in part a cultural failing, but the idea of the Western Roman Empire's inevitable collapse is invalidated by the very survival of the Eastern. If anything, Roman, or perhaps Byzantine, tactics DID change, and the traditional legion eventually disregarded. The transition to medieval, cavalry/siege warfare can already be observed in the later Persian/Roman wars.

Also, a solid, somewhat homogenous Greek population did help the East, but the fragmentation of Italy was far from inevitable, even if Britain and probably Gaul were doomed.

A series of circumstances might have preserved at least a Western Roman rump state, such as timely intervention from the East...perhaps if Zeno had not been so occupied with civil war, as Wikipedia's featured article so recently notes.
 
Indeed, the fall of Rome it was in part a cultural failing, but the idea of the Western Roman Empire's inevitable collapse is invalidated by the very survival of the Eastern. If anything, Roman, or perhaps Byzantine, tactics DID change, and the traditional legion eventually disregarded. The transition to medieval, cavalry/siege warfare can already be observed in the later Persian/Roman wars.

Also, a solid, somewhat homogenous Greek population did help the East, but the fragmentation of Italy was far from inevitable, even if Britain and probably Gaul were doomed.

A series of circumstances might have preserved at least a Western Roman rump state, such as timely intervention from the East...perhaps if Zeno had not been so occupied with civil war, as Wikipedia's featured article so recently notes.

Well the west faced different threats, different geography, different ethnic groups about, and had a different economic set up (the east saw less depopulation of the cities and had more developed states to interact with), I'd say the survival/non-survival of the East has little bearing on the probablity of western survival.
 
Furthermore, the East did indeed fall. Considerably after the West, but only because of reforms that made it essentially not a Roman empire anymore. I believe this shows--to my satisfaction, at least--that the Romans would not necessarily have held out against "barbarians", who, after all, really were fairly advanced for being the instigators of the "Dark Ages".
 
Hi Dachs! Thanks for your warm welcome :)

I'm glad to see that the Archimedes affair is of some interest. I wonder how he could have influenced the Republic if he would have been drawn to Rome alive. A stronger empire, less prone to fall to the barbarians?

I've tried to estimate what could have been the effect of a living Archimedes in the Roman Republic with some speculation about Rome in the late republican / early imperial age. I don't think to be an expert in ancient Rome history, so feel free to contradict me.

Agriculture: well developed during the Punic Wars. Fertile land, excellent crops. Taxes were often paid in crops rather than in coins. But there are no sign of improvement in the following times. No better tools to work the land. No better crop rotation. It never became intensive.

Science: same story. Cutting edge in construction and urbanistics, but no significative advancements since then.

State management. Excellent during the Republic, it only worsened afterwards. Why? Probably a state like the Republic of the Punic Wars was easier to manage, but something like the early empire was already a different matter. Once the conquests stopped, Rome found itself in a tight budget. To keep itself efficient it required some changements, some modernization, some optimization in how it was led. Such improvements never took place. It seems to me that not only there were bad leader, but the administrative class in its whole was far from being efficient in state affairs.

Commerce. Once again, florid during the Punic Wars, and continually declining afterwards.

The impression I had is that Rome reached its peak in the 2nd-1st century BC, then it was an almost continue trend downward, until its final demise. Well, at this point one asks itself what could have turned a nation of brilliant soldiers, farmers, builders and merchants into a bunch of weaklings and fools.

Can the main culprit be found in the lack of any organized education system? Rome had no schools. Only the elite had access to culture, through private teachers. But the most part of the population was essentially unalphabetized.

No schools -> no creative minds; no scientists; no competent public managers; no agronomy; no modernization; no cultural growth; no new ideas.

Could Archimedes have been done something about that? Sure he was only a man, but he was also the most prominent scientist of his era. It's said that he died at 75, but this date is just a guess of a Byzantine historian, based on the simple sentence that "Archimedes died old". He could have been 50, and lived 20 years more. Enough to influence the Roman republic, and start a resurgence in science and tecnology.

Just my thoughts. I could be completely wrong for what i know. It would be interesting to know the opinion someone with a better knowledge than mine.
 
I would love to comment more on tr1cky's ideas, but unfortunately I have little time, so I'll just post this. It gets longer. ;)

A House Divided.

While the decade of the 1860s was momentous all over the world, nowhere is it better evidenced than in Germany, Italy, and the United States. In Italy, the culmination of the Risorgimento led to the unification of nearly the entire peninsula, which for so long had been shackled to the rule of one foreign empire or another. The events in Germany altered the balance of power in Europe drastically and changed the face of international politics. However, it is what happened in America that deserves the closest attention, for while its effects were initially rather limited, the shockwaves from the domestic conflict of the 1860s in the United States spread all over the world.

There is no better place to begin reviewing the 1860s in America than the year 1860 (technically the last year of the 1850s, but this critical decade was long in development). The previous decades had seen the rise of sectional tensions, especially between the northern states (who were generally more commercial oriented and more and more anti-slavery) and the southern states (whose collective economies relied on slavery in order to produce agricultural products at a profitable rate). A planned slave revolt, led by a northern abolitionist, one John Brown, was to have been kicked off by the seizure of a US Army arsenal in northern Virginia at Harpers Ferry in 1859; the federal response, led by Lieutenant Colonel Robert E. Lee and a unit of Marines, ended in the surrender or death of all of the “revolutionaries”, as well as Brown's forcible capture. The would-be architect of the destruction of slavery was duly convicted by a jury and hanged by the neck until dead. Many abolitionist writers, including such eminences as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Victor Hugo, called Brown a martyr; most southern slave owners expected further attacks from the “Republican” revolutionaries, and began to arm. These tensions culminated in the 1860 presidential election, wherein four opposing candidates from sectional parties ran for the highest office in the country. John Bell, from the Constitutional Union party, gained his support from die-hard Whigs and Know-Nothings; the Democrats split, with the northern delegates nominating “Little Giant” Stephen Douglas and the southern “Fire-Eaters” putting forth John Breckinridge. The new Republican Party, though, held together, advancing a fairly moderate platform and nominating Abraham Lincoln as their candidate. These Republicans already had virtually complete control in the northern states, so they confined their campaigning to quiet campaign clubs; desperate, Stephen Douglas raced on a nationwide campaign tour to garner as much support as possible. The issue was never in doubt for the Republicans, though, and they were swept into office with a clear electoral majority. The manner in which Lincoln had been elected was somewhat ominous, though; almost no one cast a ballot for him in the entire South.

Not long after the election, but before Lincoln could take office from incumbent James Buchanan, the state of South Carolina seceded. As 1861 dawned, more states withdrew from the Union, all in the Deep South: Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi had all declared that they were seceding from the United States by March 1861. These states formed their own government, that of the “Confederate States of America ”, which seized federal arsenals all across the southern states and elected as its president Jefferson Davis, a former Secretary of War. In Texas , a quarter of the US Army entered that of the CSA under David Twiggs, a veteran of the Mexican War of 1846-8. All of this was basically ignored by lame duck President Buchanan, who declared that the South had “no right to secede, but I have no power to prevent them”. Lincoln ’s representatives, though, desperately tried to seek peace. A conference was held in Washington , DC in February that fell through; a hastily-proposed “Crittenden Compromise” (after the style of those of 1820 and 1850) also failed to sway the southern states. Again, Buchanan failed to make preparations for war, so many of the northern state governors did so for him, buying up arms and gathering militiamen to turn into an extemporized Regular force. Finally, in March, Lincoln became President, and in his inaugural speech insisted that the South had no legal right to secede, and that he would not invade the South or attempt to end slavery, but that he would take action to preserve US federal property – such as one of the only remaining US Army forts inside Confederate-held land, Fort Sumter in Charleston harbor. The fort was soon surrounded by Confederate militiamen and some cadets from the Citadel. Buchanan sent a relief expedition in the unarmed merchantman Star of the West to resupply the fort; the Citadel cadets, the only men in the Confederacy skilled with artillery, turned it back. Upon Lincoln's inauguration, he decided to send a new expedition with supplies to the fort in order to keep the men inside alive; when notified, the Confederate government decided to commence bombardment of the fortifications to try to force Fort Sumter's garrison to capitulate before the relief ships got through. On April 12, 1861, one Edmund Ruffin, a Confederate secessionist with the batteries under General P.G.T. Beauregard, fired the first shot of the civil war at the fort in the middle of Charleston harbor. After two days of constant bombardment, the fort's commander, Colonel Robert Anderson, surrendered Fort Sumter to the Confederacy and was allowed to return to the United States with his men. The American Civil War had begun.

With the battle of Fort Sumter, Lincoln called for 74,000 volunteers for ninety days to crush the rebellion. However, many states that had thus far been on the fence turned to the Confederacy, refusing to raise arms against their brethren: Tennessee, Arkansas, Virginia, and North Carolina all voted to secede and join the CSA, and the government's capital was moved to Richmond, Virginia. The two sides immediately began to make plans. Most believed that the war would be quickly over, and advocated a push towards the opposing side's capital city. Only Winfield Scott, a veteran of the Mexican War and countless other conflicts, proposed a longer-range plan, to crush the life out of the Confederacy by seizing the line of the Mississippi River, a key transportation artery, and to set up a blockade around the Confederate coastline to destroy their economy. While President Lincoln agreed with the Mississippi and blockade plans – which were collectively dubbed the “Anaconda Plan” by the press – he also wanted a push on Richmond to try to decapitate the Confederacy quickly. Meanwhile, the South continued to arm itself and prepare to defend their homeland. Confederate diplomacy was very active in these days, looking for support from Britain and France in particular. Napoleon III and Lord Palmerston, although favorably disposed to the Southern cause, were reluctant to commit themselves to Confederate independence, and didn't believe that the CSA could sustain itself. An army, under the command of Beauregard, lay in wait for any Federal attack on northern Virginia in Prince William County, while an army under Joe Johnston sat in the Shenandoah Valley farther west. Irvin McDowell, in command of the Federal extemporized volunteer Army of Northeast Virginia, moved into northern Virginia and contacted Beauregard's Army of the Potomac at Manassas. While McDowell dithered and prepared for a decisive battle to destroy the rebel army, Johnston's troops managed to beat off a Federal attack under General Robert Patterson and board trains bound for Manassas Junction. When the Union troops finally began their attack on July 21, Beauregard had been reinforced significantly by Johnston's troops. In a sanguinary contest that lasted into the afternoon, the Union attack was first repulsed by the Southern army (in which Col. Thomas Jackson's brigade stoutly resisted enemy attack and earned him the sobriquet “Stonewall”) and then was driven back in disorder to Washington. The Army of Northeast Virginia took shelter in the strong fortifications of Washington, DC, which the Confederate troops declined to test. Everyone knew now that the war would last far longer than any of them had expected.

George B. McClellan, new commander of the entire Union Army, prepared a new plan for invasion of Virginia. Instead of attempting to force his way overland across several major rivers and through a large forest to Richmond, McClellan decided to embark his army onto a naval flotilla and sail onto the Virginia Peninsula, from which he could easily assault the relatively undefended capital. Further west, Confederate attention would be attracted by a convergent attack on the critical Shenandoah Valley led by Nathaniel Banks. The Confederacy was forced to react to the Union moves quickly. In April, the lumbering Federal armies began to close in on the fertile Shenandoah, and the man in command of the Southern troops there, “Stonewall” Jackson of Manassas fame, prepared to conduct a brilliant campaign on interior lines. Utilizing the still wide separation between the converging armies of McDowell, Banks, and Rosecrans, Jackson's single corps fought battles at Kernstown, Front Royal, Winchester, Cross Keys, and Port Republic, smashing the Federal troops at each encounter. By the time the dust had settled, the men in blue were in retreat once again, and Jackson had managed to spend four months distracting Federal attention from the more important Peninsular front. Jackson's exhausted corps was ordered back to the defense of Richmond, which was under serious threat from a vast Federal army under McClellan himself.

The Union troops had prepared to sail in early March, but before that could happen, the US Navy had to secure passage for them. The newly-extemporized Navy, which had to be almost entirely created from scratch by Gideon Welles and his assistant, Gustavus Vasa Fox, had managed to develop with the help of one John Ericsson a partially-submarine vessel clad in iron called the USS Monitor. This ironclad ship, which was basically a floating platform for Ericsson's new turret design, was supposed to be able to punch easily through pretty much anything that the young Confederate Navy could muster. However, before the Monitor could reach the Chesapeake, a new C.S. Ship whose skin couldn't be penetrated by any of the new Union shell ammunition was on the scene, and it had wreaked havoc with the Union blockading vessels. The Monitor steamed for its battle with the CSS Virginia, formerly the USS Merrimack. At Hampton Roads in early March, the two iron titans fought a drawn battle, but the Monitor could prevent the Virginia from unduly damaging the US transports. McClellan's army was duly disembarked at Fort Monroe and began to slowly push up the peninsula. The capital protection forces under Johnston were able to scramble men to the scene as McClellan's dilatory advance gave the rebels plenty of time to gather reinforcements. Even so, McClellan was able to seize Yorktown and bull through the Confederate rearguard at Williamsburg. By May 25, the Federals were in sight of Richmond itself. Seeing this, McClellan split up his army for better organization; Johnston promptly ordered a double envelopment, trying to catch the Federals spread out and disorganized. At Fair Oaks on May 31 and June 1, the South launched its attack, but parts were delayed, so what was supposed to be a deadly double envelopment turned into a series of piecemeal attacks on a single front, which were easily repulsed. This near-disaster forced President Davis to get rid of Johnston and replace him with the hero of Harper's Ferry, Robert E. Lee.

As soon as Jackson's troops were close by, Lee launched his first attacks of what would become known as the Seven Days' Battles. On June 26, he attacked the Federals at Mechanicsville, but was repulsed in the same fashion as at Fair Oaks due to Jackson's absence. The next day, another attack was planned at Gaines's Mill, but again Jackson failed to carry out his role and the Federals first repulsed the Southern attack, and then withdrew in good order. McClellan had been spooked by Lee's repeated attacks and the demonstrations of more Confederate troops in front of Richmond, and ordered a general withdrawal to Harrison's Landing on the peninsula. Lee seized his chance and harried the individual Union corps as they attempted to reach safety on the Peninsula. At Peach Orchard, Savage Station, White Oak Swamp, and Glendale-Frayser's Farm, the Federals easily beat off the Southern attacks, then on the First of July drew themselves up on Malvern Hill to defend the disembarkation point at Harrison's Landing. Fitzjohn Porter, in operational command of the Union troops at Malvern Hill, brilliantly threw back Lee's attack, in which the Confederate Army lost 5,000 men in 2 hours. Again McClellan ordered a senseless retreat, and soon the Federal army huddled in defeat on the banks of the James, despite never losing a battle in the past seven days. Lee had somehow pulled victory out of a string of defeats.

Lincoln, constantly reacting to the rebels' every move, ordered the creation of John Pope's Army of Virginia from the shattered commands that had been repulsed in the Shenandoah. Pope began a slow movement towards Richmond overland from the north, and Lee prepared to engage him directly. On August 29-30, the southerners landed a decisive defeat on Pope at the Second Battle of Manassas, whereat James Longstreet's Corps swung around to the Federals' rear while Jackson attracted their attention to the front. The Union army began to disintegrate again, but General Phil Kearny pulled defeat out of an utter rout by holding off Jackson's advancing corps for long enough for the remainder of the Army of Virginia to reach the safety of the Washington forts. The fight degenerated into a nighttime hand-to-hand running battle, in which Kearny was killed and the Federals managed to escape. Lee prepared to invade the North, in order to finally secure European recognition and support for the rebel cause. Lincoln in Washington desperately recalled McClellan from the Peninsula and had him formulate a new army out of the shreds of Pope's and the Army of the Potomac. Lee began to march north, issuing secret orders to his subordinate commanders – and miraculously, one of these order sets fell into Federal hands. McClellan, with his usual alacrity (or lack thereof), launched his army across South Mountain towards the Confederate army at Sharpsburg; Lee barely managed to gather together his disparate corps before battle was joined at Antietam Creek on September 17. McClellan prepared for a general attack, but was repulsed in a series of sanguinary fights all along the line at the Bloody Lane, Burnside's Bridge, and in front of Sharpsburg itself. By the end, both armies had suffered enough casualties for the rebels to withdraw; the Union claimed the victory, with nearly 27,000 casualties on both sides. The United States had been saved, however temporarily.

President Lincoln saw the opportunity to prevent the European nations from recognizing the Confederacy. Britain and France were really only refusing to recognize the Confederacy on two grounds: that of the apparent staying power of the Union – confirmed by the bloodbath of Antietam just now – and that annoying little practice of slavery which the South insisted on pursuing. Thus far, Lincoln had tried to prevent the war from being about slavery, so as to coax the rebelling states back into the fold. Now that this was clearly impossible, and now that he had a shred of possibility of backing himself up, he issued a proclamation emancipating the slaves of the Southern states – but only the ones currently in rebellion – to take effect at the beginning of next year. The French and British were once again scared off; the North had gained some breathing room. Now it was time to deal with the Confederacy – but McClellan's usual lack of speed had allowed the Confederacy to once again get away. Lincoln promptly fired McClellan and replaced him with Ambrose Burnside. Burnside moved into central Virginia, aiming once again for Richmond, but was halted on the Rappahannock River while waiting for bridging equipment. This gave Lee more time to form up on the formidable Marye's Heights beyond the town of Fredericksburg on the southern bank; when Burnside threw his troops into the attack on December 13, 1862, they were repulsed fourteen times with devastating loss, despite personal bravery. The US Army lost nearly 13,000 men that day with exactly zero gain, and retreated back across the Rappahannock two days later. The Eastern theater of the Civil War had remained bloodily indecisive that year.

In the West, the Federals were definitely ascendant. General Ulysses S. Grant, a commander Henry Halleck's Department of Missouri, was ordered to make an amphibious assault on the forts of Henry and Donelson along the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers. Fort Henry, which wasn't particularly easy to defend, was abandoned by the Confederates in February for Donelson; Grant invested Donelson and began a siege. The rebel command, under John Floyd, Gideon Pillow, and Simon Boliver Buckner, attempted to break through the Union lines, but couldn't make headway and were thrown back into the fort by vigorous counterattacks. Pillow and Floyd managed to escape, but Buckner was left behind with nearly 12,000 soldiers, trapped in the fort. He attempted to surrender to Grant, but the Federal commander responded with the famous, "No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted." The rebels were cowed; Buckner gave up his command on February 16, and Grant got a nickname: "Unconditional Surrender". The Southern cordon defense of Tennessee was now broken; Albert Sidney Johnston, in charge of the defense of that state, was forced to withdraw further south when Grant and Don Carlos Buell took Nashville nine days after Buckner's surrender. At Corinth, Mississippi, Johnston concentrated 40,000 men in preparation for a counterblow. Grant, who was intent on taking that city as a base for operations into northern Mississippi, was halted by order of Halleck so as to wait for Buell, who was hastening from Nashville. Johnston seized his opportunity and launched an immediate attack on Grant's ill-defended cantonment at Shiloh on April 6. The Federal outposts were quickly driven in, and suddenly Grant found his army under heavy attack by troops under Johnston's and Beauregard's command. As the Union troops were forced back towards Pittsburgh Landing, a large number of blue-clad troops were cut off and surrounded by the Confederate soldiers; this "Hornet's Nest" resisted attack for seven hours before finally being overwhelmed. The sacrifice of these troops gave Grant time to form a solid defense line in front of Pittsburgh Landing; in a futile attempt to charge the position, Johnston was killed leading his men. During the night of the sixth, Buell's troops finally arrived on the scene and were ferried across the river to join Grant; on the seventh, Buell and Grant launched a massive counterattack that drove Beauregard's men from the field in disarray. This battle, nearly as bloody as Antietam later that year, was decried by the press in the North, and Grant was condemned widely for spending his soldiers wastefully. Lincoln came to the rescue of his commander, saying, "I can't spare this man. He fights." Through the rest of the year, Grant pushed south into Mississippi, and although he was not able to gain a decisive victory over the Southern troops, he seized Corinth and made preparations to attack Vicksburg, the strongest fort on the Mississippi River. In eastern Tennessee, Buell and later his successor, William Rosecrans, moved slowly against Confederate troops under Braxton Bragg, who finally was engaged on December 31 in a battle that lasted for four days at Murfreesboro, where a tactically drawn battle ended in some of the highest casualty rates of the war and a Southern withdrawal.

The conquest of the Mississippi as planned by Winfield Scott was proceeding apace. On April 24, not long after Grant's victory at Shiloh, Commodore David Farragut broke through a weak Confederate river fleet and seized New Orleans at the mouth of the great river; a few weeks later, Captain Charles Davis forced the surrender of Memphis, upriver in Tennessee. By this time, it was clear that the only real Southern bastion preventing complete Union control of the Mississippi was the great fortress of Vicksburg, Mississippi. While Farragut maneuvered his ships into position, defeating the CSS Arkansas on the river and driving her into the Vicksburg base, Grant began an overland advance. In November, he began to drive General John Pemberton back towards the fortress, but the next month, an assault on the Chickasaw Bluffs under William Tecumseh Sherman was met with staunch resistance and repulsed. Vicksburg remained an extant barrier to Union control of the Great American River as 1862 ended.

In the east, Burnside, who had failed completely at Fredericksburg, was replaced by "Fighting Joe" Hooker. Hooker planned an envelopment of Lee's army, which sat at the Tabernacle Church not far from Fredericksburg. He ordered John Sedgwick with 40,000 men to drive Lee in his direction, while his own large army crossed the Rappahannock and moved into the town of Chancellorsville. Wily Bobby Lee wasn't sitting still all this time, though; he had found a route around Hooker's rear, and planned to envelop the envelopers by sending Jackson's corps around behind Hooker and crushing his army. At first contact on May 1, Hooker assumed his defensive position, thinking that if Lee attacked his defenses like Burnside had done at Fredericksburg, the Southern army would be easily vanquished and the road to Richmond would lie open. Lee did not oblige, sending Jackson on his end run in the hopes that Hooker wouldn't attack his weakened, divided army. The Federal commander, still clinging to his original plan, didn't leave his cantonments, and late in the afternoon of May 2 Jackson's corps appeared on the flank of the XI Corps, who were cooking dinner at the time. That corps, primarily composed of German immigrants, mostly fled, and Jackson continued to debouch onto Hooker's flank as the day turned into dusk. At this worst of all possible moments, Hooker's headquarters was hit by a Confederate artillery barrage and he got shell shock, failing to give any orders at all while Jackson's corps ran amok in his rear. Jackson, seeing that the Union troops weren't leaving, continued to lead the attack personally into the night, but was misidentified by one of his own men and hit by friendly fire in the dense wilderness. Over the next few days, Hooker regained his bearings and pulled his troops into a defensive position around United States Ford, all the while calling on Sedgwick to break through Early's weak defenses on Marye's Heights and hit Lee in the rear. Sedgwick was about as dilatory as McClellan had been, though, and only on the 4th of May did he break through Early's defensive line - after which Early simply countermarched and moved to isolate him on the ground north of Fredericksburg, just as Hooker's bridgehead was slowly contracting north of Chancellorsville. Hooker and Sedgwick finally withdrew north of the Rappahannock on the night of the 5th, and conceded the field. This crushing victory by the Confederacy came at a high price, though, and Lee's men lost over a quarter of their strength, although they killed a greater number of Union soldiers. Chancellorsville, while the greatest defeat yet suffered by the Federal armies, also showed signs of improvement by the men in blue; they had held on for three days after suffering what would normally have been a debilitating blow to any army, a far cry from the militiamen who broke and ran at Manassas two years ago. As Lee prepared to invade the North a second time, the generals of the Army of the Potomac could take solace in the fact that their men were now at the best they had ever been.
 
The Decisive Campaign: Gettysburg.

After waiting for a month in front of Fredericksburg, staring the Union troops in the face, Lee finally began to move on his invasion of the North. This campaign would be decisive: if it failed, the Confederacy would have lost in both East and West, and faced certain doom; if it succeeded, the failure in the West would be redeemed and the European Powers would join in the struggle against the Union to support the Glorious Cause and prop up the Confederacy. Lee decided to risk it all on this one throw of the dice. He was relatively certain of success; the great defeats the Federals had suffered at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville in the last six months had drained their manpower. This last army, led by Hooker, was the final all-volunteer army in the Union; the draft was instated that summer, and with it the vigor and elan of the Federal troops would no doubt ebb. He also knew that this defensive strategy, while it had gained the Confederacy moral ascendancy, was also draining his troop strength at a terrifying rate. He needed to invade the North and settle accounts before all was lost.

On June 3, 1863, Lee's army slipped away from Hooker at Fredericksburg and began to move northwest towards South Mountain. His cavalry, under J.E.B. Stuart, lay in Culpeper County, in both a reconnaissance and screening mode. However, the Union cavalry corps, now under Alfred Pleasonton, was moving to engage the rebel horsemen, and outnumbered Stuart's troopers by 1,500. At Brandy Station on June 9, Pleasonton surprised the Confederates and caught Stuart napping; it took all day for the Southern cavalry to rally and finally beat off the Union attack with a few savage counterattacks of their own. Again, the Federal cavalry demonstrated their growing competence and superiority, while the Confederates were humiliated by their lack of preparation and their near defeat. Later that day, Lee's main body began to cross the Blue Ridge at Manassas Gap and move into the Shenandoah Valley beyond. Seeing this, Hooker's first reaction was to go after Richmond, now uncovered by Southern troops. The Union high command, including Lincoln himself, rebuffed Hooker's plans for the Richmond drive and instead ordered him to keep between Lee's army and Washington. Meanwhile, the Pennsylvania militia began to gather, called up by Governor Curtin. In the Loudoun Valley, Stuart repulsed the Federal cavalry probes on Lee's right rear flank at Aldie, Middleburg, and Upperville, and then decided to “loosely interpret” his orders to secure Lee's flank: he went on what was basically a joyride, moving around the Union rear and seizing supply convoys, but doing little damage and providing Lee with no intelligence or protection whatsoever. The Union cavalry, in the meantime, continued to carry out their own role of support and reconnaissance for Hooker's marching army, spread out over several miles. However, late in June, as Lee’s vanguard under Richard Ewell neared Harrisburg, Hooker was relieved by Lincoln for not only the fiasco at Chancellorsville but also his clashes with the high command over matters in the past month and a half. He was replaced with George Gordon Meade, formerly commander of the V Corps. Early in the morning of June 28, Meade was woken by an officer with his new orders and immediately assumed that he was under arrest for some indiscretion. After getting that straightened out, he immediately assumed command and began issuing orders instantly and began to get acquainted with his job on the fly. He had surprised Lee, who only became aware that the Union army was north of the Potomac and indeed in northern Maryland after one of Longstreet’s spies informed him of such; he quickly recalled all of his troops, some of whom were advancing towards the Susquehanna towards Harrisburg, and ordered them to concentrate at Gettysburg, a convenient road junction towards which all of his disparate corps could move easily.

Ambrose Powell Hill had taken over part of Jackson’s old Corps, and he was the closest to the assigned rally point. His leading division, that of Harry Heth, was beginning to move into the town on June 29, but the first brigade to near the town (under Johnston Pettigrew) noticed Union cavalry forming up at Gettysburg, and so withdrew without a fight. That cavalry division, under the command of John Buford, quickly took up positions on the high ground northwest of the town of Gettysburg, so as to allow them to withdraw back to the even better series of ridges south of Gettysburg when the main body arrived. Buford’s troops dismounted and took up positions on McPherson Ridge, just behind Willoughby Run. His two brigades, under William Gamble and Lysander Cutler, were armed with the new Federal cavalry carbine, a faster-firing beast that gave them a fire volume advantage – one they would sorely need the next day against the numbers that were coming their way.

Heth’s division’s leading brigades, those of James Archer and Joseph Davis, encountered Buford’s cavalry outposts early in the morning of July 1, 1863. After firing a few times for effect, the Federal troopers withdrew to join their comrades on McPherson’s Ridge. Finally, the main body contacted Gamble’s troops, who hid behind fences and were able to easily reload their carbines from behind cover, whereas the Confederate troops had to stand up to reload. Little progress was made by the southern troops, who were held up at McPherson’s Ridge quite easily by Buford’s shell of resistance. At about 10:20 in the morning, Buford was finally reached by a superior Union officer, the able commander of the I Corps, John Reynolds. Reynolds was with his first division, that of Jim Wadsworth, the infantry vanguard of the entire Army of the Potomac. He deposited these infantry with Buford and rushed back to hurry more of his Corps along the line. The infantry, in particular the famed Iron Brigade (the First Brigade of the First Division of the First Army Corps of the Army of the Potomac), stiffened the cavalry’s line and forced the Confederates to deploy into line. Reynolds helped to shepherd these men into position and then began to lead a counterattack into Herbst’s Woods to drive out Archer’s brigade. At this unfortunate juncture, he was shot, probably randomly, and the Federals unexpectedly lost one of their best corps commanders. He was duly replaced by Abner Doubleday, who was nowhere near as good a leader as his boss had been. With Doubleday in charge, more Confederate troops began to hit the last of Buford’s cavalry, still under Cutler, and force them back. Now, though, the rebel troops began to break up and get confused over what the actual objective was: some were turning south to hit the Iron Brigade in the flanks, and some were streaming on towards the town of Gettysburg. As soon as Davis finally got his brigade under control and began to direct attacks against a railroad cut which guarded the Iron Brigade’s flank, the Union troops had managed to stiffen their line again. Fighting soon began to die down as the day inched on toward noon and more of Hill’s corps began to arrive on the scene.

A.P. Hill now had two divisions, those of Heth and Dorsey Pender, behind Willoughby Run. Troops from Dick Ewell’s corps, coming south from Harrisburg, were appearing further north of the town. Now that the I Corps was facing him, the second corps in line, the XI Corps under Oliver Howard, began to deploy north of Gettysburg to hold off Ewell’s troops. The XI Corps’ Germans had broken and run at Chancellorsville; now was a chance to redeem themselves and plug the line. Unfortunately, their commander, Howard, was still not the sharpest crayon in the box, and proceeded to try to control a space that was just too big for his corps to cover. Howard, assuming command of the entire battlefield in Reynold’s absence, was replaced by Carl Schurz, one of his division commanders, who in turn was replaced by Alexander Schimmelfennig. Schurz moved his corps towards Oak Hill, the major high ground north of the I Corps’ position. Unfortunately, Ewell’s lead division, that of Bob Rodes, had beaten him there. Rodes’ troops began to stream off the hill as Schimmelfennig and Adolph von Steinwehr tried to get their divisions into some kind of blocking position. Meanwhile, the other division commander, Francis Barlow, decided to take the other major high ground north of Gettysburg, now called “Barlow’s Knoll”. Unfortunately for the bluecoats, the space between Barlow’s Knoll and Oak Hill was just too vast for even an entire corps to hold by itself. When Ewell’s troops began to deploy and move to attack, the divisions of Rodes and Jubal Early pushed the XI Corps off the field and sent them streaming south in defeat. With their northern flank unprotected, the remnants of the I Corps and Buford’s division also began to withdraw in order, ripping huge holes in the Confederate formation with their artillery. At this point, Lee arrived on the field and ordered Hill to resume his attacks; as he did so, Doubleday’s withdrawal nearly turned into a rout. The Confederate pursuit was disorganized, though, and as day turned to twilight, the Army of the Potomac had a strong defensive position on the good ground south of Gettysburg, on Cemetery Ridge, Cemetery Hill, and Culp’s Hill, while the rebels had secured their own high ground in the form of Seminary Ridge. The evening went on, and Lee immediately tried to renew the attack, ordering Dick Ewell to try to assault Culp’s Hill, which was still weakly held. Ewell formed his troops up and prepared to attack, but was spooked by the sight of a few Union troops from the other arriving corps on the hill, and decided not to attack. Just after midnight, Meade arrived, and immediately began piecing together plans to first maintain the current defensive position, but to draw Lee into repeated attacks just like what had happened at Fredericksburg, as had been Hooker’s original plan.

Lee’s plans for July 2 would involve his entire army. Both his Second (Ewell) and Third (Hill) Corps were there on the battlefield, and Longstreet’s First Corps was still descending from South Mountain. Longstreet, who was already there, tried to convince Lee to try something else, and leave the battlefield, march around the Union flank, and rob them of their good ground. His commander, though, believed that the Southern troops would be able to carry any position, just as they had at Chancellorsville and indeed the previous day. Lee wanted to outflank the Union army as well, but his plan was for a tactical flanking movement, with Longstreet moving against the southern flank of the Union troops on Cemetery Ridge to seize Cemetery Hill and command the battlefield from that high ground. His scheme, though, was colored by false information: Stuart had still not returned from his joyride throughout Maryland, and he didn’t really know where the Army of the Potomac was exactly. Longstreet was ordered to move his men out as soon as possible and attack as soon as they were on the field, and Ewell would demonstrate against Culp’s Hill as soon as he heard the sound of the guns further south in order to draw Union attention.

On the Northern side, the arriving III Corps of Daniel E. Sickles was moving toward its new positions, anchoring the line on Cemetery Ridge by seizing the “Rocky Hill”, or Little Round Top. However, Sickles remembered that he had been forced to give up good ground to horrible result at Chancellorsville, and he deemed the terrain to the west of Cemetery Ridge appropriate – a series of orchards and a major rock structure, Devil’s Den, dominated the ground, and if Sickles had to take up positions where he was commanded, he would be hit from artillery on this higher ground. Unfortunately, he – just like poor Schurz the day before – simply didn’t have the manpower in his III Corps to hold the ground he wanted. Sickles moved into position around midday on July 2, and Meade soon learned of the error. However, he had no time to rectify it – Longstreet’s Corps was already deploying to attack against the southern face of Sickles’ salient, and the battle was joined. Meade had no choice but to feed more troops in to try and establish a new line and prevent the loss of III Corps.

Longstreet, though, was acting petulantly. His scheme for maneuvering around the Union flank had been trashed by Lee, and he decided that if he was to carry out a bad plan, he might as well not do it the right way. The two divisions he had on the scene, those of Hood and McLaws, took a long time to form up and prepare for assault; when they finally did, they were under unclear orders. Hood told his division, the extreme right flank of the entire rebel army, to go “forward and take those heights!” There were a lot of heights, though, and nobody was quite sure which ones he meant; things were made worse when he was hit by an artillery shell and lost an arm, and was carried to the rear. With no one in command, Hood’s division lurched towards Big Round Top and Sickles’ Corps. McLaws, further to the left, wasn’t counting on any resistance at all – and when Sickles’ men opened up on his troops, they had a perfect enfilading fire, and Union cannon from the ridge were able to plow through his lines. Hood’s division, now theoretically under the command of Evander Law, moved on toward Big Round Top. Attempting to scale the hill, the Confederates were extremely disorganized by the underbrush, especially a large thicket on Big Round Top that took a long time to cut through. [1] This time was critical to the Federal forces, who managed to move their corps out of marching order as soon as they got to the battlefield and march them straight to the crisis points all along Sickles' line. Part of the V Corps was dispatched to Little Round Top; the brigade under Colonel Strong Vincent managed to repel repeated attacks by several Confederate units. A particularly dramatic stand was made by the 20th Maine Regiment at the extreme left flank of the Union line: when the unit was nearly out of ammunition, the commander, Lt. Col. Joshua Chamberlain, ordered a right wheeling charge that swept the attacking troops back and forced the Southerners' retreat. That part of the Federal line was safe, but other locations were in danger as well: Sickles, in particular, was hard pressed all around. Devil's Den, the Peach Orchard, and the Wheat Field all became storied tales of US resistance to Confederate assaults that finally carried the positions and forced a Union retreat at high cost to both sides – but III Corps and elements of several other corps that had been fed into the fighting were able to reform on Cemetery Ridge not far away. The Confederacy was not finished, though, as night fell, and Anderson's divisions under Hill launched several attacks all along the central part of the Union line under cover of darkness. There were quite a few open spots in the line vulnerable to penetration due to Sickles' stupidity; Winfield Hancock, commander of the II Corps, took the initiative and ordered the 1st Minnesota Regiment to attack a vastly superior oncoming Southern force to buy him more time to form a line. With conspicuous gallantry and amazing skill, the Minnesotans managed to hold off an Alabaman brigade long enough to plug the line, but they suffered a horrendous 67% casualties and were nearly annihilated. As July 2 ended, the two armies once again reformed, rested, and prepared for the final, decisive day, when all troops were on the field.

Lee, hearing the results of Anderson's attacks, decided that the central part of the Union line was extremely vulnerable and ripe for destruction. Concentrated artillery, in a grand battery line those of Napoleon, would blow a vast hole in the center of the Union line, through which his newly arrived division under George Pickett would carry the assault into Meade's rear, smashing all vestiges of Federal resistance and finally winning the decisive battle that he hoped for. Longstreet made noises of disagreement, again recommending a flank march around to the south, but Lee overrode him and determined on a simultaneous attack by Ewell, whose troops had once again failed to do much of anything the previous day, and elements of Longstreet's and Hill's corps, who would attack the center of the line. A massive battery, under the command of Longstreet's artillery commander, Porter Alexander, was assembled to destroy the Union line. Meade, on the other hand, was ready for an attack. He expected to meet yet another assault somewhere along the line and decided that this repulse would be deadly for the Confederate troops. He assembled a small reserve, made up of some of John Sedgwick's VI Corps, and nearly the entire Cavalry Corps under Pleasonton. Wherever the attack came, he would be able to first repel it, and then annihilate what was left of the Southern army. Meanwhile, a minor hiccup occurred in the late morning of July 3 as Union troops bombarded the Confederate portion of the works on Culp's Hill, attempting to seize lost ground. Ewell was thrown off balance, and was unable to complete his part of the attack. Annoyed, Lee, decided on the main effort, and ordered the barrage to commence at 1 PM.

The Confederate artillery barrage, the loudest sound yet heard on the American Continent, involved about 150 cannons and lasted for two hours. In accordance with Meade's plan, Henry Hunt, Union artillery commander, decided not to effect counterbattery fire and instead kept his guns on a tight leash. What little counterbattery fire there was was sporadic and often overshot the Southern guns, instead landing on the massed infantry in the woods beyond. Alexander, noting this, believed that that meant that the Federal guns had been mostly knocked out. Longstreet ordered his troops - three divisions under Pickett, Isaac Trimble, and Johnston Pettigrew - to begin their assault at about 2:50. 13,000 soldiers, stretched into a line a mile long, advanced in serried ranks towards the formidable Union positions on Cemetery Ridge. The Federal artillery began to open up, not all at once in a barrage, but every so often, trying to kill a lot of Confederates but not force them into a stampede. Despite these precautions, the unit closest to the Union artillery – Brockenbrough's brigade, from Heth's old division – simply disintegrated, coming apart not long after the commanders tried to redress their lines in the middle of the field. As the Confederates closed in on the Union line, Cemetery Ridge erupted in rifle fire. Federal infantry began to mow down the Southern troops. Still, doggedly, the rebel soldiers kept slogging on. Finally they were at the stone wall; the gray-clad soldiers continued to struggle on; many fell back, forced to retreat by the sheer carnage, but several footholds were clawed into the Union line. A brief, sanguinary struggle ensued at the stone wall; in hand to hand combat, the sheer numbers of the boys in blue and their bayonets forced back the valiant Confederate troops. Finally, the great mass of them broke and ran, nearly at the same time, joining the rest of their army which was already flooding towards the Southern lines.

At that point, Meade gave the order, and suddenly seven thousand horsemen erupted from behind the Union lines. At the same time, the Union troops of Hancock's II Corps that had manned the line - and their large reserve - rose from their entrenchments and began to pursue the Confederate troops across the valley. The running mass of gray soldiers could do little - they couldn't make a stand, they couldn't run fast enough, and they weren't about to be saved. The Federal troopers, with brevet Brigadier General George Custer in the lead, slashed through the heart of the amorphous blob of Confederate troops, tearing what last semblance of order that had existed completely to shreds. George Pickett was killed trying to rally his men; every other brigade and division commander that participated in the charge was also cut down in similar fashion. Back on Seminary Ridge, Porter Alexander refused to fire his grand battery at the oncoming Union troops: for one, he didn't want to hit what Confederate troops there were still in the valley, and he didn't have that much ammunition left for all of his guns after the two hour bombardment just previously. With that, the last hope for the Southern troops in the valley was lost. Lee refused to risk the rest of his army for those men; he withdrew with part of A.P. Hill's corps south to the remnants of Hood's and McLaws' divisions down south.

The Confederate Army of Northern Virginia was split in two. Ewell's corps, still mostly in one piece, was cut off from the rest of the army, under Lee and Longstreet, which managed to safely withdraw south towards the Potomac under the watchful eyes of the rest of Pleasonton's cavalry corps. At Gettysburg itself, the fourth day was spent in a bloody battle inside the town that saw the envelopment and subsequent surrender of Ewell's command. This surrender was quickly followed up by news just as good from out West; Ulysses Grant had managed to first dislocate and dislodge the Confederate defenses in central Mississippi, and then spent a month besieging Vicksburg, whose commander Pendleton surrendered on the same day as Ewell raised the white flag. July 4, 1863 - Independence Day - was the greatest day in American history. The Union, so long bedeviled by Southern victories, was now on the ascendant; victory was now assured over the Richmond rebels.

It remained to be seen if those rebels quite knew that yet.

[1] – I have been through this thicket. It’s still there, and is a real pain in the butt to try to penetrate, even if you’re not trying to stay in line abreast with a lot of equipment and warm clothing.

Comments? Questions? Nitpicking? Hate mail from Southerners?
 
Nice work, Dachs. No mistakes, since you stuck to the historical record until near the end. Btw, did you draw from Killer Angels at all? It is pretty much the Gettysburg book.

I'm curious to see what Lee's next moves are. He probably won't have the resources to pull something off like the Wilderness Campaign, so I'm predicting something like a shorter, bloodier version of Petersburg.

Of course, the suggestions of Lee's officers at Appomattox to carry on a guerilla war might be more persuasive here.
 
So, Dachs, what exactly is the PoD? I'm not THAT knowledgeable about the Civil War...obviously it has to do with the splitting of the Confederate army after Gettysburg, but what exactly is the change?
 
Indeed, the fall of Rome it was in part a cultural failing, but the idea of the Western Roman Empire's inevitable collapse is invalidated by the very survival of the Eastern. If anything, Roman, or perhaps Byzantine, tactics DID change, and the traditional legion eventually disregarded. The transition to medieval, cavalry/siege warfare can already be observed in the later Persian/Roman wars.

Also, a solid, somewhat homogenous Greek population did help the East, but the fragmentation of Italy was far from inevitable, even if Britain and probably Gaul were doomed.

A series of circumstances might have preserved at least a Western Roman rump state, such as timely intervention from the East...perhaps if Zeno had not been so occupied with civil war, as Wikipedia's featured article so recently notes.

Valid points all, except that the Eastern Roman Empire really was very different from the western. It was, you know, more Greek, generally more homogenous and in a pretty good strategic position - not really very good, that is, for maintaining a large empire in the long run, but adequate for a regional power with Anatolia and the Balkans (both having good natural defenses).

Also, I never said anything about a cultural failing; that much did occur, but it was a part of the Roman society's general crisis. And I was talking more about its administrative and military detirioration.

Could Archimedes have been done something about that?

In a word, no. Many others didn't. Rome might be interested in military or engineering innovations, but honestly, who's going to let some old Greek, no matter how brilliant, reform the entire system of education, and to the effect of bringing literacy to the plebians none the less (because honestly they really MIGHT get some weird ideas in their heads, and that would lead to quite some chaos; it reminds me of a somewhat implausible but still intriguing althist I read long ago about a Gracchite "communist" revolution in ancient Rome)? At best he could set up some kind of a "school" in the broader meaning of the term, and pass on some technological knowledge, but that strikes me as somewhat inconsequential in the long run (the Romans weren't killed by the lack of technology).

Dachs - well-written, though again I'm rather out of my depth here. Nice to see the Union winning in an ACW althist for a change, though.
 
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