LESS THAN TWO weeks before a scheduled reunion of the Third Georgia Regiment in August 1883, Robert Bagby—who had served in Company H—was “surprised” to read in a local newspaper an editorial from a fellow veteran “objecting” to the proposed presence of their former commander, Major General William Mahone. Bagby’s response indicates that he understood the origin of this complaint. He assured his comrade that “the men who are invited to meet us on this occasion are expected to do so as survivors of a Lost Cause and not as representatives of a State or Federal Politics.” The distinction drawn between the acknowledgment of a shared Confederate past and more recent political alignments reflects the extent to which Mahone’s war record had become clouded by his foray into Virginia and national politics. Bagby assured his readers that he did not necessarily approve of Mahone’s politics but was convinced that he could welcome his former commander with open arms: “It is not my wish or desire to applaud Gen. Mahone for the active part he bore in the late war between the States, or vilify or abuse him for his connection with Virginia politics but as a Confederate soldier who followed where he led in the dark and trying hours of the past. I, for one, am willing to let politics of the living present rest long enough to remember the record made by Gen. Mahone while fighting for a principle that was near and dear to us all.”1
By 1883, William Mahone had become one of the most controversial and divisive politicians in the country. As the organizer and leader of the Readjuster Party (named for its policy of downwardly “readjusting” Virginia’s state debt), Mahone led the most successful independent coalition of black and white Republicans and white Democrats. From 1879 to 1883, Readjusters governed the state. They elected a governor and two U.S. senators and served in six of Virginia’s ten congressional districts. With Mahone at the helm of the party and buttressed by Senate patronage, the coalition controlled the state legislature and the courts. As a result, a large percentage of the state’s federal offices went to the Readjusters’ black majority. These African Americans played a prominent role in shaping the party’s platform, which resulted in their gaining increased access to the polls, officeholding, and jury service.
Postwar image of William Mahone. (Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.)
The legislative agenda of the Readjusters, as well as Mahone’s prominent role within the party and the U.S. Senate, generated heated attacks in newspapers and more personal forms of communication. Even the duel, which had disappeared from the South during the first two decades after the Civil War, reappeared during the four years of Readjuster control. Like former Confederate general James Longstreet, Mahone incurred the wrath of a growing and influential Lost Cause movement that, in addition to rationalizing Confederate defeat, sought to maintain Democratic Party solidarity by fostering white supremacy and states’ rights. Though Longstreet’s affiliation with the Republican Party resulted in his being blamed not only for Confederate defeat at Gettysburg but for the loss of the war as well, Mahone’s postwar political career presented conservative Virginians with a more immediate threat. Lost Cause advocates continually attacked Mahone and the Readjusters because the increased involvement of African Americans in the political process constituted a direct threat to their goal of turning back the clock to a point in the prewar past when white Southern slaveholders stood atop the social and political hierarchy.2
Lost Cause advocates such as Jubal Early and others assumed an aggressive posture against Mahone and other former Confederates who threatened their own conservative social and political agenda. That Mahone was not an outsider but a popular Confederate major general meant that he had to be dealt with severely, and they responded in large part by attacking his war record. His detractors assailed a war record that Mahone and his close associates helped construct—and often embellished—to further his own postwar career, first as a railroad magnate, next as an unsuccessful candidate for the 1877 gubernatorial nomination, and finally as a leader of the Readjusters and U.S. senator aligned with the Republican Party.
A closer look at Mahone’s postwar difficulties sheds light on the heated debates, or “reputation war,” surrounding the political limits to which the Confederate past could be applied. A more careful examination will also undermine the notion that Southerners—especially Virginians—were in agreement over who could claim rightful ownership of their past. Although historians have shown the influence of sectional reconciliation and other conditions on early histories of the war, they have not examined sufficiently the extent to which Virginians fought over the conditions under which one could claim a legitimate connection to the Confederate past. In this case the heated disputes reached into and even divided the small community of veterans that Mahone helped to maintain through the 1870s.3
Mahone’s plunge into Virginia politics and unsuccessful bid for the gubernatorial nomination followed quickly on the heels of the loss of the Atlantic, Mississippi, and Ohio railroad to receivership in 1876. The issue that propelled Mahone into the political arena was the question of what to do about the state’s debt. By 1870 it had amounted to $45 million—much of it having been incurred before the war, when Virginia was committed to internal improvements and when its boundaries included the new state of West Virginia. The issue was necessarily divisive because it directly affected the state’s revenue and previous legislation that had authorized financial support for the fledgling public school system and other social services. Although Mahone made it clear that the debt could not be ignored entirely, in June 1877 he went on record as a “friend of the public school system of Virginia,” which he believed “should be effectually nurtured.” In readjusting the debt downward, Mahone believed there would be enough left to finance the public schools. In 1877 he organized a faction with the Conservative Democratic Party supporting readjustment while contesting the gubernatorial nomination. Unable to win a majority of the delegates to the party’s convention, Mahone released his supporters, leading to the nomination and election of Frederick Holliday.4
Only after Governor Holliday had, in early 1879, vetoed a measure to reduce the debt and redirected funds appropriated for the public schools to help pay the interest on the debt did Mahone split from the Conservative Party and call a convention of self-styled “Readjusters.” The division between Readjusters and their opponents was drawn along racial, social, and political lines. Much of the early support for readjustment came from poor whites in western counties and prosperous yeoman farmers in the Shenandoah Valley, who were enthusiastic about the benefits of public schools and resentful of the more conservative counties in eastern Virginia. White and black urban workers and agricultural workers also supported readjustment. Members of Virginia’s black population—many committed to the Republican Party—argued that since they had played no part in contracting the debt during the antebellum years, they were not responsible. Those advocating paying off the debt in its entirety, called “Funders,” tended to be the more conservative elements in the state, including bankers and large businessmen, residents of more urban centers, and white men living in counties dominated by African Americans. The choice for some Funders was not a mutually exclusive one but a question of what deserved priority. In short, paying off the debt was a matter of honor.5
Once organized, the Readjusters placed William Cameron, veteran of the Twelfth Virginia Infantry, in the governor’s mansion and won election in six of Virginia’s ten congressional districts. With a majority of Readjusters in the General Assembly, Mahone was elected to the U.S. Senate, slated to take his seat in March 1881.
The success of the Readjusters was based in part on their ability to reach voters who had been excluded or previously ignored in political matters. This achievement galvanized Virginia’s black population with the possibility of increased participation in politics. At the same time, the success of Mahone and the Readjusters concerned those Virginians who worried about any political, racial, and social realignment. Such realignments during this period, and their accompanying debates, were arguably the most heated since the brief period leading to Virginia’s secession back in April 1861. In 1880 a pamphlet appeared: John Brown and William Mahone: An Historical Parallel, Foreshadowing Civil Trouble, by George W. Bagby. “In 1858 occurred the raid of John Brown,” wrote Bagby, misdating the 1859 incident at Harpers Ferry. The “raid” of Mahone and the Readjusters in 1879, though “less bloody,” was “more dangerous than that of John Brown.” “Both raids occurred in Va, and the negro was in both cases the instrument relied on to destroy the old order of things.” Linking Mahone and Brown accomplished a number of goals. First, memories of John Brown could easily be recalled because of the visceral fears that his actions had engendered. It also made clear the extent of the current perceived threat to the stability of the Commonwealth and at the same time called Mahone’s loyalty into question.6
Around the same time an editorial in the Richmond Times suggested that the Readjuster Party constituted “one of the nastiest and most infamous governments” and that “General Mahone was instigator and mainspring of every act in that government that humiliated Virginians.” Along with calling into question the nature of Readjuster rule, emphasizing Mahone’s military background with the title “General” helped bring to light concerns about his “sincerity” and, perhaps more important, his “patriotism.”7
Throughout the four years of Readjuster control, both sides focused on Mahone’s war record. To his supporters, Mahone’s service to the Confederacy reflected not only commitment to independence but also to the welfare of the Commonwealth. Mahone’s enemies attacked his war record and military reputation with the ultimate goal of challenging his loyalty to the Lost Cause as well as his interest in the continued welfare of the state. At least one Mahone supporter acknowledged the close connection being drawn between the politics of debt and the Confederate past: “Frequently we hear appeals to the late Confederate soldiers to maintain the honor and credit of old Virginia now as they were wont to do at such perils and sacrifices as characterized them from Manassas to Appomattox. Lately we saw it stated that nearly all the Generals of Virginia were funders and therefore the soldiers should be.” A writer with the Southern Intelligencer concluded that Mahone “does not care enough for what Lee and Jackson would have done [about the state debt] if they were now alive.”8
Mahone’s supporters no doubt found it easy to connect his political goals with his military career by building on an interpretation contained in the De Peyster sketch as well as Mahone’s own activities with Confederate veterans and, most important, the general’s proximity to the old Crater battlefield. One Virginia newspaper claimed that Mahone displayed “the very highest qualities of the born soldier,” and his “tenacity, dash, and skill” never failed “to inspire confidence in him and dismay in the enemy’s army.” Another Virginian took issue with a statement made by former Confederate general Joseph Johnston, who called Mahone one of “the finest specimens of a newspaper General.” The writer responded: “The truth is there was no officer in the Army of Northern Virginia whose reputation rested more exclusively upon his own individual merits than William Mahone.” Even readers in the remote state of Iowa were informed that Mahone’s “line was the last to give way at Appomattox. He was among the most trusted soldiers in the confederacy, and ranked with Longstreet and Pickett as a fighting commander who always led his men.” The Norfolk Landmark anticipated “that the time will come when Virginia will do him [Mahone] honor as the hero of the Crater,” because it was he who on that occasion “saved Lee’s army.”9
More than one newspaper repeated a widely accepted story originating with J. Horace Lacy that toward the end of the war Lee had Mahone in mind to replace him in the event of his death or inability to continue to lead the army. “There is little doubt,” according to the Capital, “if in the last year of the war General Lee had been killed, disabled or removed from causes unforeseen from the head of the army, that Mahone would have taken his place.” Another writer followed De Peyster’s sketch closely, acknowledging that Mahone’s “division laid down more muskets” at Appomattox “than any other one in the army.” “It was the recognition of these qualities in the military character of Mahone,” continued the writer, “which impelled Lee to name him as the Commander-in-Chief of the Confederacy when he expected to retire.” Regardless of the story’s popularity, there is no wartime evidence to confirm that Lee intended to place Mahone in command of the army. The widespread use of Mahone’s war record and the tendency to exaggerate his importance throughout the war only fueled the anger of his political enemies.10
This postwar view of the Crater was produced for Union veterans on a tour of Civil War battlefields, probably in the 1880s. (Virginia Historical Society, Richmond)
In November 1881 Readjusters capitalized on their gains when they elected William Cameron to the governor’s chair and elected H. H. Riddleberger to join Mahone in the Senate. Mahone himself took his seat in March of that year at a time when the Senate was evenly divided between Republicans and Democrats. If Mahone’s loyalty to Virginia and the South had been questioned because of the legislative agenda of the Readjusters, his decision to cast his vote with the South’s old political enemy could be interpreted as nothing less than apostasy. With Mahone’s support, the Republican Party was able to organize the Senate around its own legislative goals. As a reward for his support, Mahone was given the chairmanship of the Committee on Agriculture as well as membership on three additional committees. More important, Mahone gained the support of the federal administration in the form of an extensive patronage, which allowed him to advance the careers of African American supporters in Washington and Virginia.11
With Readjusters in control of both houses of the state legislature and Cameron in the governor’s chair, legislation was easily passed. The state debt was readjusted downward to $21 million, which left sufficient funds for public schools, the hiring of black teachers, and even a hospital for mentally ill African Americans. Readjusters abolished the poll tax, which had been used to disfranchise black voters, and the whipping post. In 1882 the General Assembly passed legislation supporting the literacy fund with an appropriation of $379,270, plus an additional payment to public schools; schools with black teachers were also given support. The sum of $100,000 was appropriated to support the founding of the Normal and Collegiate Institute (later Virginia State University) and Central Hospital in Petersburg, both for African Americans. Readjusters also cut property taxes for poor farmers by 20 percent.12
Black Virginians were rewarded for their votes on both the state and federal levels through political patronage. The presence of African Americans increased sharply in different agencies, including the Treasury Department, Pensions Bureau, Secretary’s Office, and Interior Department. At the height of Readjuster control, African Americans made up 38 percent of workers in the post office. With Mahone’s help, African Americans also found jobs as clerks and copyists in Washington. It was in the field of education, however, where blacks enjoyed the most visible increase in participation. Readjuster reforms increased the number of black teachers from 415 in 1879 to 1,588 in 1884, and black student enrollment went from 36,000 to 91,000 during those years. In addition, African Americans served as jurors and clerks, policemen in towns, and guards at state penitentiaries.13
Although black Virginians were integral to the Readjuster Party’s continued success, the irony of a former Confederate general actively courting their vote did not go unnoticed. “Those who had been the bitterest and most dangerous foes to the Colored People,” wrote the biographer of black Readjuster Robert A. Paul, “were calling for their support. . . . The one who had hurled hundreds of colored soldiers into the death-fraught crater of Petersburg had announced himself the leader and director of the new party. They who had fought on the field of blood and labored in the arena of politics to deprive the Colored man of his constitutional rights now proclaimed that Colored men should enjoy the full rights and prerogatives of citizens.”14
Attacks against Mahone increased in number and intensity as Readjuster legislation and Mahone’s influence in the Senate brought to the forefront groups that had been barred from any serious participation in both state and local government. For Virginia’s more conservative citizens, such changes were seen as a threat to the stability of what they perceived to be established social hierarchies. Reporters covering debates on the floor of the Senate noted, “Southern Senators speak as bitterly of General Mahone and his followers as they did of carpet-baggers, scalawags, and niggers.” The Richmond State urged its readers to stand guard against “the treason of many of [Virginia’s] own sons who in times past were counted among her most devoted and loyal defenders and protectors.” Without mentioning Mahone by name, the editor reminded his readers, “The Revolution gave us but one ARNOLD, during the whole seven years of its course, while the Confederate war failed to yield a single one on either side until after it had been fought out.” Though many of Virginia’s native sons “held out long and well . . . at last some of them succumbed, and are now found, ARNOLD-like, leading their old enemy against their old friends and associates.” Earlier comparisons with John Brown had emphasized the perceived threat to the political and social structure that Mahone and the Readjusters represented, but comparisons with Benedict Arnold reinforced the belief that Mahone had betrayed his fellow Virginians, including former Confederates, for political and economic gain.15
On the eve of the 1881 gubernatorial election, Mahone and Jubal Early—now associated with the Funders—rekindled an old feud that had originated following the publication of the De Peyster sketch back in 1870. Furious with the way he was portrayed in that publication, Early initiated a monthlong correspondence with Mahone that almost resulted in a duel. According to De Peyster, “Although his name was Early, he was always late. Jubal was always hesitating whether to fight or not; he would ride up and down the lines, from fifteen to twenty minutes, debating whether or not to begin; whereas the battle was to be won or lost meanwhile.” Rumors of a duel to be fought intensified and broadened the rift between the two former Confederates. Finally, in October 1881, Early published the entire correspondence. The pamphlet numbered nineteen pages, including comments by Early, and was sent to newspapers for reprinting. The publication of the correspondence gave Early the last word on the subject. However, the importance of its publication lies in the fact that it opened an avenue of attack that connected Mahone’s political career with his identity as a former Confederate officer.16
Such a connection was easily inferred by observers. “The fate of Southern generals, no matter how brilliant their career during the war, who have ventured since the peace to entertain opinions disagreeable to their fellow citizens . . . is not a pleasant one.” Comparing Mahone with both James Longstreet and John Mosby, this particular commentator stated confidently that as “long as he remained in sympathy with the Bourbons he was the darling of the Southern Democracy,” but as soon as he strayed from accepted discourse, he “found himself an outlaw and held up to scorn.” The emotionalism of such attacks surpassed those leveled at Longstreet and Mosby because of the nature of the changes taking place in Virginia, Mahone’s alliance with the Republican Party, and the possibility that Readjuster success might serve as a catalyst for independent movements elsewhere. At least one writer wondered “who shall be selected as the Mahone of Georgia politics.” In addition to Georgia, between 1880 and 1884 independent candidates and movements were launched in Mississippi, North Carolina, and Texas.17
Funder-supported organs also challenged Mahone’s loyalty to the men who had served under him in the war. Such a move countered the steps Mahone himself had taken after the war to enlist their support for his business interests and political aspirations—most notably through the reunions of “Mahone’s Brigade Association.” One newspaper accused Mahone and the Readjusters of removing “gallant, disabled soldiers” from public positions “and putting in their places negroes, who have no claims upon the State.” Mahone’s detractors not only attacked the growing involvement of black Readjusters in positions of power but also helped paint Mahone as a betrayer of former comrades and the Confederate cause. “When a Confederate soldier so far forgets the memories of the lost cause, as to displace fellow comrades who lost their limbs in battling for that cause,” mused one newspaper editorial, “he is not likely to hesitate to go further for party purposes.” Mahone’s enemies also challenged his loyalty to his former comrades with broadsides. One such example announced in bold letters, “CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS DEPRIVED OF BREAD BY MAHONE.”18
It is difficult to gauge the extent of the damage to the bond that Mahone had worked to establish with his fellow veterans. Funder attacks reflect the fact that Confederate veterans were now being perceived as a highly politicized group whose loyalty to former commanders could be trumped by political concerns. Presenting a united front, veterans of Mahone’s Virginia brigade rallied in defense of their former commander. “General Mahone has shown us a way out of the woods,” asserted one veteran, and “we shall follow him and fear no danger.” Another former soldier, writing under the pen name Private True and aiming to show that Mahone and the Readjuster Party had not betrayed Virginia’s veterans, exclaimed that the highest officers within the Readjuster Party, including Senator Riddleberger, Congressman John Paul, Governor “Willie” Cameron, and Secretary of State William Elam had all either been privates in the war or had risen in the ranks to first lieutenant.19
Not surprisingly, the most common target for Mahone’s political enemies was his performance at the Crater. As has already been demonstrated, Mahone had built his postwar reputation around the leadership qualities he displayed on that battlefield, which many argued had been responsible for the Confederate victory. His performance on that day was a central focus of most biographical accounts, including De Peyster’s, and the memories of many of the veterans of Mahone’s Virginia brigade hinged on the assumption that their old leader had performed admirably. In addition, the Crater proved to be an ideal target because of its continued popularity as a point of curiosity for Virginians as well as a site for the reunion of Northern veterans. In reference to the Crater, many of Mahone’s detractors questioned his conduct on the battlefield, whether he had ordered the charge that led to the retaking of the salient, and whether he in fact had led his old brigade in its recapture.20
The most significant challenge to Mahone’s conduct at the Crater came from his former subordinate Brigadier General David A. Weisiger, who took command of the Virginia brigade following Mahone’s promotion to division command. In June 1880 the Funder-supported Richmond Commonwealth reprinted a letter sent by Weisiger to Captain Gordon McCabe asserting that Mahone never left the safety of the “covered way,” which the brigade used for shelter before the final push to retake a portion of the Crater, and that he selected the position from which the brigade would attack. In addition to claiming that Mahone had shirked his duty for the safety of cover, in September 1880 Weisiger wrote in the Richmond State that he himself “gave the order to ‘forward!’ at the opportune moment, when it was observed that the enemy were preparing for a charge.”21
Mahone’s defenders were quick to respond to these challenges. Four former members of the Virginia brigade collected nineteen accounts from fellow veterans of the unit, all of which challenged specific points made by Weisiger. About half of these accounts were penned before the political upheaval associated with Readjuster control. Their accounts were prefaced by the acknowledgment that “events have occurred since” the battle “that have separated the actors in that scene. . . . But, whenever the members of that heroic Old Brigade revert to the Crater fight, it stands before them distinct and vivid as in the hour it was waged.” In presenting a unified front, Mahone’s supporters hoped to put to rest any doubt concerning his performance at the Crater.22
Lieutenant John Laughton of the Twelfth Virginia recalled having “seen Gen. Mahone superintending the formation of the line,” as did William Coldwell, who remembered that he “overtook Gen. Mahone and an engineer officer” as they moved along the covered way into position. Coldwell made it a point to acknowledge that though he was not a “political friend” of Mahone’s, he could not stand by and allow his reputation to be “traduced and vilified by the envy, hatred and malice of enemies, fifteen years after Robert E. Lee acknowledged his just glory by promoting him.” “Gen. Mahone was in the trenches before and after the final charge,” according to Colonel George T. Rogers of the Sixth Virginia, “and directed each action of the brigade . . . during the greater part of that terrible battle, as he did the movements of each other brigade engaged.” James Blakemore placed Mahone a “short distance from and a little in advance of the left of the line of our formation and who was then awaiting the movements of Georgia brigade, emerging from the covered way.” Mahone’s men also took issue with Weisiger’s claim that it was he who gave the order to attack. For the eight men of Companies A and B of the Sixteenth Virginia, Mahone’s role was solidified in their collective memories: “Contrary to this assumption on Gen. Weisiger’s part, we feel perfectly free to say that Gen. Mahone was with his Old Brigade, and that we know he superintended the arranging of the troops in line of battle; that we saw him pass down the line, and heard him give the command, ‘Fix bayonets! Reserve your fire until you get to the breastworks!’”23
Readjuster-backed organs such as the Virginian also fired back in defense of Mahone. H. H. Riddleberger countered by pointing out the connection between politics and the attacks on Mahone’s reputation by Funder-backed newspapers; he went on to defend Mahone by urging readers to remember that the “old veterans of his famous command . . . still hurrah for Mahone.” In addition, reference to Lee’s own ability to “judge” the “courage” and “qualifications of his subordinates” aided Mahone’s defense. Finally, it was hoped that remembering that Lee “would have elected between Mahone and [John B.] Gordon” to replace him as commander of the Army of Northern Virginia, if necessary, would provide a final vindication for Mahone.24
In a letter to the editor of the Richmond Times, Charles S. Venable, who had served on Lee’s staff, commented on recently reprinted accounts of the battle of the Crater that he believed made an “exceedingly false impression in regard to General Mahone and his superb conduct on that occasion.” Venable countered by reassuring the editor that “every message sent that day by General Lee (who was near by), was sent to Gen. Mahone, as commander of the troops engaged [in] repelling the enemy at the Crater and the adjacent line.”25
The continued attacks on Mahone’s war record and the spirited defenses of it reflect the importance that both sides attached to the Confederate past, and specifically the Crater. No doubt the confused nature of the fighting in and around the Crater made it possible to draw conflicting conclusions surrounding central questions related to the battle. Arguably, the truth of what happened at the Crater was the least important concern for the participants in the ongoing debates. Neither side was interested in forging a mutually agreed-upon account of what happened at the Crater because they both were content simply to make political use of their disparate memories.
In November 1883 Readjuster control of Virginia ended abruptly as a result of a race riot in Danville, which left one white man and four black men dead just three days before the state elections. Democrats seized on the riot as evidence of the fruits of Readjuster legislation and capitalized on it by winning two-thirds of the seats in both branches of the General Assembly. Mahone’s control of the state government was broken. In 1884 the situation deteriorated further when Mahone decided to campaign for James G. Blaine in the presidential election under the banner of the Republican Party. Grover Cleveland won the state by 6,000 votes, as Democrats in the state legislature continued to replace Republican and Readjuster officeholders.26
Replacement of Readjuster officials proceeded aggressively. A Virginia newspaper assured its readers that “the good work will surely go on until not one single Mahoneite is left in office.” Outside Virginia, observers predicted that with Cleveland’s victory, “he will fling all civil service reform professions to the winds and set up the guillotine until the head of every friend of General Mahone has dropped into the basket.” Such editorials attest not only to popular perception of Mahone’s position as leader of the Readjusters but also to the belief that he alone was responsible for the radical political and social changes that took place in Virginia.27
Finally, with Fitzhugh Lee’s ascendancy to the governorship in 1885 and Democratic control of the state legislature, Mahone’s service in the U.S. Senate was terminated. Fitzhugh Lee and the Democrats’ success in the gubernatorial election of 1885 hinged in part on the party’s ability to appropriate much of the Readjusters’ legislative program, including free school textbooks, public education, and Virginia’s first comprehensive pension scheme for Confederate veterans. Lee may also have taken a page out of Mahone’s political handbook by presenting himself as a war hero. It was not uncommon for Lee to enter a town with a military escort. While campaigning through Rockbridge County, “he was mounted on a magnificent bay horse, and looked as he rode through the crowded streets every inch a soldier,” remembered one observer. Stories also abounded citing Lee’s deliberate invocation of his famous uncle, Robert E. Lee; he used the Confederate hero’s saddle during his tour of Virginia’s western counties. Lee also employed a “headquarters stand of colors used by Gen. Geo. E. Pickett,” which accompanied the “mounted men that escorted the gallant cavalier in his movements through the country.”28
Mahone remained loyal to the Republican Party until he died in 1895, though he was never able to achieve the kind of victory won by the Readjusters. Nevertheless, his work to defeat the Bourbons and further the interests of Virginia’s African American population led on occasion to impressive results. In 1886 Republicans captured seven of the ten congressional seats in Virginia, and in the presidential canvass that followed in 1888, Mahone brought the Republicans to within 1,500 votes of victory. As he did with the Readjusters, Mahone kept tight control of the Republican political machine. Reactions to his close oversight of affairs ranged from accusations of dictatorial control to the abandonment of the Republican Party for personal as well as ideological and political disagreements. Finally, in 1889 Mahone ran unsuccessfully for governor by campaigning on behalf of a protective tariff that he hoped would aid Virginia’s industrial workers.29
Throughout this period, Mahone was forced to deal with continued attacks on his war record by former Confederate officers outraged by his decision to align himself with the Republican Party—none more so than former Confederate general James Lane. Lane’s vendetta against Mahone stretched back into the war and was a result of the bloody fight at Spotsylvania’s “Mule Shoe” salient on May 12, 1864. Lane’s North Carolina brigade captured three enemy flags from Ambrose Burnside’s command only to be challenged by Mahone, who claimed that his brigade had secured one of the flags and, further, that the North Carolinians had behaved dishonorably during the fight. A negative portrayal of Lane’s performance at Spotsylvania found its way into the De Peyster sketch, which was later revised in the face of Jubal Early’s criticisms. Lane also harbored deep resentment against Mahone because of the Virginian’s conduct at Reams Station in August 1864, when his men took credit for capturing Union artillery pieces already captured by the North Carolina brigade of Colonel William McRae. Finally, the two sparred over whose men were responsible for the defense of Fort Gregg on April 2, 1865.30
Lane enthusiastically joined the growing chorus of attacks against Mahone’s leadership of the Readjusters and alliance with congressional Republicans in 1881 by publishing his report on the battle of Spotsylvania, which branded Mahone “a liar and a coward, a man without honor.” Even as late as 1890, Lane could not resist an opportunity to challenge Mahone’s record. Following the unveiling of the Soldier’s Monument at Blandford Cemetery, Lane challenged a number of “false claims” made, including which unit was responsible for the “valuable and heroic defense of Fort Gregg” and the size of the Confederate units surrendered at Appomattox. Lane, venting his frustrations in the pages of the Southern Historical Society Papers, was convinced that these “false claims” were “set up . . . at the instance of General Mahone.”31
Lane’s frustration reflected the feelings of betrayal voiced by numerous Confederate veterans and Virginians that continued to reverberate until Mahone’s death on October 8, 1895, and beyond. Eulogies proved just how difficult it was for some to distinguish between Mahone’s political and military careers. Though the Norfolk Landmark applauded Mahone for his “strategic ability,” “personal bravery,” and “self command,” the newspaper concluded that his death “removes one of the most conspicuous figures in the public life of this State since the war.” With Mahone’s death, Virginia “loses one of her most distinguished sons,” suggested the Portsmouth Star, and “as an organizer of force, he was unquestionably one of the greatest minds of the age.” Still, the Star reminded its readers of Mahone’s personal legacy: “The name of Virginia was dragged in a mire of reproach and became a by-word and a mockery. From the effects of that political delirium we are just recovering.”32
The public debate surrounding Mahone’s loyalty and military record was not intended simply to get the historical record straight. Mahone’s use of his military record to further his own postwar interests provided an easy target for his detractors and serves as a context for understanding what is best described as a reputation war. His leadership of the Readjusters and leadership within the Republican Party threatened such Southern traditions as white supremacy, black subordination, and an agrarian economy with democratic struggle, black political action, and a progressive economic outlook. The legislative agenda of the Readjusters and Mahone’s association with the Republicans challenged Lost Cause assumptions that reinforced a conservative political and legislative agenda. That Mahone was not an outsider but rather a successful Confederate major general could not be ignored. Comparing Mahone to John Brown and Benedict Arnold attested to the popular belief that he had betrayed the Southern values fought for in the war. The battles between Mahone and his Lost Cause detractors were not simply about what really happened at the Crater. Instead, they instituted a contest over who could claim legitimate ownership and control of Virginia’s Confederate heritage.
