History has largely forgotten Patrick Ronayne Cleburne. Perhaps this is not surprising. Like many Irishmen throughout history, he fought on the losing side of a foreign war and, as we know, history is written by the victors. However, since Americans are presently given to Civil War retrospectives, it is fitting that we remember one of the Confederacy’s greatest military leaders, a man who threw his career away on the issue of slave emancipation.
Born in Youghal, County Cork, in 1828, Cleburne believed he had embarrassed his family name when he failed the entrance examination of the medical School of Apothecaries in Dublin. In search of a new start he came to the United States in 1849, settling in Helena, Arkansas, where he became a pharmacist.
By all accounts, Cleburne prospered in his new surroundings. Looking to improve him-self, he studied law and passed the bar in 1856. Eventually, he became a large landowner, well-known and popular in his adopted community. We are told that he did not drink or smoke, but such exemplary habits did not protect him from the violence endemic to the period. In a gunfight he killed a man who had attacked him and was himself wounded. His statement at the inquiry which followed gives us a measure of the man: “I had either to de- fend myself or run, and I was trained in a school where run- ning formed no part of my accomplishments.”
The advent of the Civil War found Cleburne a strict states’-rights man. He was convinced that if a war came, the Southern cause would be one of liberty the right of states to manage their own affairs. Strange as such sentiments might seem to our modern ear, many Southerners were prepared to fight and die for a society that embraced slavery as an institution. Most Southerners, of course, did not own slaves. Their anger was fueled by radical elements within the abolitionist parties of the North such as the Know Nothings who hated everyone foreign-born.
In 1860 Cleburne volunteered to fight as a private. Two years later his superior abilities raised him to the rank of major general and the command of a division in the Army of Tennessee. He fought in all the great battles of the Western theater: Shiloh, Shelton House, Perryville, Murfreesboro, Chickamaugua, Missionary Ridge and Franklin. In the words of the historian Maurice Hennessy, Cleburne’s “rise to fame verged on the meteoric.”
Hailed after the battle of Chickamaugua as “the Stonewall Jackson of the West,” Cleburne was worshiped by his troops, and was considered one of the bravest leaders among men to whom courage was commonplace. He possessed a special affinity for the Fifth Regiment of his division which was composed almost entirely of Irishmen from Memphis. One of its officers later stated: “The hero worship (amounting almost to idolatry) on the one hand, and the sympathy and admiration on the other, that existed between this regiment and Cleburne was re- markable, and can only be partially accounted for by their common birthplace, their thorough devotion to the Southern cause, and the ties that bind men who have often met the common foe in the death grapple.”
As had been predicted, the Irishman’s career was ruined. By advocating making soldiers out of slaves, he had made himself suspect and on February 1, 1864, A.P. Stewart, a subordinate of Cleburne, was promoted over him to lieutenant general.“
During one battle Cleburne received a message under a flag of truce from General T.W. Sweeney, commander of the Union division opposing him. Sweeney, also a native of County Cork, proposed that when the war was over they join in raising a Fenian army to liberate Ireland. Cleburne replied that he thought after this war they both would have had enough fighting to last them the rest of their lives.
But what truly makes Cleburne of interest to us was his stand on slave emancipation. The Irishman saw that by late 1863 Southern conscription had slowed dramatically, with the North owning a two to one superiority in men. Cleburne reasoned that if Africans were offered their freedom in return for enlisting as soldiers, the Southern ranks would swell with able-bodied men capable of working harder than many of their white counterparts.
Of course, the very idea was political dynamite. Most whites lived in fear of a slave uprising. They all remembered Nat Turner. The notion of actually giving guns to Africans was anathema to the Southern leadership.
Cleburne was not dissuaded. He held no brief for slavery but he believed fervently in the romantic ideals of the South. He became convinced that his plan was the dramatic move necessary to save the South.
His aides to a man attempted to change his mind. They argued that his proposition was too radical and that it flouted Southern tradition. They predicted that if Cleburne persisted in advocating his proposal, he would not only see it rejected by the Army but he would also destroy his prospects for promotion to lieutenant general. Cleburne responded that he was duty bound to make the argument to his superiors, regardless of any impact upon his Career.
On January 2, 1864, the division and corps commanders of the Army of Tennessee were summoned to hear the Irishman’s proposal. Cleburne stood before them that night and made an eloquent argument. Adopt his proposal, he said, and a number of benefits accrue.
England and France would immediately recognize and assist the Confederacy; the North would be deprived of a powerful motive for continuing to prosecute the war; Africans would lack incentive to fight against the South; and the Southern armies would become numerically superior to those of the North. Today we see that by guaranteeing freedom to all Africans loyal to the South, Cleburne in effect was calling the Southern elite’s bluff as to whether their rebellion was truly over states’ rights and not slavery.
Cleburne’s arguments fell on deaf ears. General Johnston, his ultimate superior, refused to even submit the proposal to the War Department. When a colleague of Cleburne mailed a copy directly to Jefferson Davis, the President of the Con- Confederacy rejected it summarily. (Ironically, shortly before the end of the war, Davis desperately advocated legislation similar to Cleburne’s plan. By then it was too late.)
As had been predicted, the Irishman’s career was ruined.
By advocating making soldiers out of slaves, he had made himself suspect and on February 1, 1864, A.P. Stewart, a subordinate of Cleburne, was promoted over him to lieutenant general. Destiny had other plans for our Cleburne. On November 30, 1864, he was killed at the Battle of Franklin. His bravery at the end is worth retelling.
General John Hood ordered Cleburne to make a frontal assault on entrenched Union lines at Franklin. Today historians agree that the strategy was unsound in that infantry will rarely prevail against fortifications supported by artillery emplacements, particularly when the charge was ordered without benefit of a preliminary artillery barrage. Cleburne’s protests were rejected.
As General Gowan wrote: “He seemed greatly depressed and fully realized, as did every officer present, the desperate nature of the assault we were about to make. He informed us that by the direction of General Hood he called us together to impress upon us the importance of carrying the works of the enemy at all hazards… [and the need] to fix bayonets and take the works at the point of the bayonet….” As Gowan saluted and turned to leave, he said, “Well, General, few of us will ever return to Arkansas to tell the story of this battle.” Cleburne replied, “Well, Gowan, if we are to die, let us die like men.”
Cleburne, as was his custom, followed his division into the midst of the battle. His first horse was killed under him. A second mount was killed before Clebume could get into the saddle. Gowan recounts that Cleburne, sword in hand, then “moved forward on foot, waving his cap.” Seconds later, he was killed by a bullet to the heart.
Cleburne’s maddened troops heroically drove through the breastworks, running the Northerners from the field. But the Southern losses were appalling. The terrible casualties sustained by the white Army of Tennessee made inevitable their defeat at Nashville sixteen days later and hastened the doom of the Confederacy.
As is often the case with history, we are left with imponderables. If Cleburne’s plan had been adopted, might the Confederacy have been saved? We can say with certainty only that the rebellion clearly would have been prolonged indefinitely.
This in turn might have been sufficient to gain the South’s independence, for the rebels never needed to achieve a military win as did the North. As Patrick Ronayne Cleburne well understood, a draw would have sufficed.
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