Chapter 22 – This poem “General Longstreet – The Aftermath” focuses on the Confederate retreat following the Pickett, Pettigrew, and Trimble charge. It turned out to be a total disaster for the Confederates. Of the 15,000 Rebels that stormed across the field only 50% survived unscathed. The rest were either killed, wounded, or captured.
by Christopher Rudolph © 2015
Chapter 23 – General Longstreet – The Aftermath
Still sitting on the rail fence
He formally tried to pray
But the words wouldn’t come
Knew not what to say
He had watched the battle
Dissolve into nightmare
Fredericksburg in reverse
Total despair
They came slowly back
Stunned soldiers in shock
Nobody running
Stubbornly they walked
Shells still falling
Muskets dragging on the ground
Steadily moving
Past the deadly mounds
In the retreating flood of men
Longstreet was a boulder in the stream
Men parting around him dazed
Like in a catatonic dream
A bloody man rode up on a horse
He screamed as his face contort
Captain Robert Bright of Pickett’s staff
He wanted more support
Longstreet shook his head
“Pull back,” he told Bright
“Nobody to send now
We must give up this fight”
Nine brigades went in
Only half the men returning
Piles of dead strewn everywhere
Copse of Trees still burning
Then in a state of sheer terror
General Pickett arrived strained
Hair like a wilted flower
Uniform bloodstained
Lee told Pickett to form his division
Behind the ridge back to the rear
Pickett said, “Sir, I have no division”
So many had disappeared
Pickett fell down from his horse
Tears streaming down his face
Ranted and raved
For his soldiers to be replaced
But Lee could not fix it
There was nothing that could be done
He could not reverse death
Or the setting of the sun
He certainly regretted
The outcome of the assault
Bowing his head Lee said
“It was all my fault”
A rain storm arrived that night
Lee ordered a retreat
This time they lost
Must accept their defeat