1862. Admiral David Farragut orders enclaves to be established in Texas as part of the Federal blockade. This involves attempts against Corpus Christi, Sabine Pass, Galveston, and Port Lavaca. By the end of the year Federal troops reduce the defenses of Sabine Pass and occupy Galveston, the state's principal port. However, the gains prove tenuous. While Federal sailors await Union infantry reinforcements, the Confederates, under Gen. John B. Magruder, seize the initiative. They organize a makeshift fleet of "cottonclads"--lightly armed and armored, but good platforms for sharpshooters--and boldly attack the Union fleet whenever it lies close to shore. Meanwhile, Confederate troops bombard from land. Ultimately, this counterattack results in the destruction or capture of four Union warships and three supply vessels and temporarily lifts the blockade. A lively account of innovative and daring tactics against superior forces by a dynamic historian.

In September 1863, Union Gen. William S. Rosecrans drives into Georgia flanking Confederate Gen. Braxton Bragg out of Chattanooga. Bragg, heavily reinforced, turns on Rosecrans and nearly traps him before he can fall back. The two great armies finally meet at Chickamauga. Through woods and small clearings, a confused but vicious battle rages as each army gropes and grapples at the other trying to find the enemy's flanks. At nightfall, Rosecrans holds his ground and continues to slide his army northward to Chattanooga. The following morning, however, Bragg launches an attack that catches Rosecrans in the midst of a clumsy readjustment of his lines. Half the Union Army is crushed and sent streaming back to Chattanooga. The other half, led by the redoubtable George H. Thomas, stands firm, weathers furious day-long assaults, and salvages honor and survival for the beaten Union Army. A brief, fast-moving, colorful account of one of the biggest and bloodiest battles of the Civil War by a widely published historian.

An important primary source for eighty years, Lee's Dispatches is now once again available to Civil War scholars, students, and enthusiasts. When first published in 1914, these letters, written between June 2, 1862, and April 1, 1865, put Lee's strategy in clearer perspective and shed new light on certain of his moves that had been in dispute.

As Douglas Southall Freeman states in the Introduction, every written line of Lee's was a lesson in war. For example, the letters reveal that in 1862, when plans for the defense of Richmond were under review, the Confederate high command considered but rejected a bold proposal to strengthen Stonewall Jackson's army in the Shenandoah Valley, embark on a vigorous offensive campaign against the North, and, if necessary, abandon Richmond.

Together these 215 dispatches offer a portrait of Lee that can otherwise be glimpsed only by sifting through hundreds of other letters scattered through the ponderous volumes of the Official Records. They fill many important details about the leadership of the South's greatest general, especially about his close and always cooperative relationships with President Davis.

First published in 1949, Frank L. Owlsey's _Plain Folk of the Old South_ was the first book to systematically lay to rest the myth of the antebellum South's division into three classes--planters, poor whites, and slaves. Owsley draws on a wide range of source materials--firsthand accounts such as diaries and the published observations of travelers and journalists, church records, and county records including wills, deeds, tax lists, and grand-jury reports--to reconstruct carefully and accurately the prewar South's large and significant "yeoman farmer" middle class. He follows this history of these people beginning with their property holdings and economic standing, and tells of the rich texture of their lives: the singing schools and corn shuckings, courtship rituals and revival meetings, barn raisings and logrollings, and contests of markmanship and horsemanship such as "snuffing the candle," "driving the nail," and the "gander pull." Frank L. Owsley, who died in 1956, taught southern history for many years at Vanderbilt University, and later at the Univeristy of Alabama. He was the author of _States Rights in the Confederacy_, _King Cotton Diplomacy_, and _The United States from Colony to World Power_, and was one of the contributors to _I'll Take My Stand_.

"Cracker Culture" is a provocative study of social life in the Old South that probes the origin of cultural differences between the South and the North throughout American history. Among Scotch-Irish settlers the term "Cracker" initially designated a person who boasted, but in American usage the word has come to designate poor whites. McWhiney uses the term to define culture rather than to signify an economic condition. Although all poor whites were Crackers, not all Crackers were poor whites; both, however, were Southerners.The author insists that Southerners and Northerners were never alike. American colonists who settled south and west of Pennsylvania during the 17th and 18th centuries were mainly from the "Celtic fringe" of the British Isles. The culture that these people retained in the New World accounts in considerable measure for the difference between them and the Yankees of New England, most of whom originated in the lowlands of the southeastern half of the island of Britain. From their solid base in the southern backcountry, Celts and their "Cracker" descendants swept westward throughout the antebellum period until they had established themselves and their practices across the Old South. Basic among those practices that determined their traditional folkways, values, norms, and attitudes was the herding of livestock on the open range, in contrast to the mixed agriculture that was the norm both in southeastern Britain and in New England. The Celts brought to the Old South leisurely ways that fostered idleness and gaiety. Like their Celtic ancestors, Southerners were characteristically violent; they scorned pacifism; they considered fights and duels honorable and consistently ignored laws designed to control their actions. In addition, family and kinship were much more important in Celtic Britain and the antebellum South than in England and the Northern United States. Fundamental differences between Southerners and Northerners shaped the course of antebellum American history; their conflict in the 1860s was not so much brother against brother as culture against culture.

A detailed journal of local, national, and foreign news, agricultural activities, the weather, and family events, from an uncommon Southerner Most inhabitants of the Old South, especially the plain folk, devoted more time to leisurely activities--drinking, gambling, hunting, fishing, and just loafing--than did James Mallory, a workaholic agriculturalist, who experimented with new plants, orchards, and manures, as well as the latest farming equipment and techniques. A Whig and a Unionist, a temperance man and a peace lover, ambitious yet caring, business-minded and progressive, he supported railroad construction as well as formal education, even for girls. His cotton production--four bales per field hand in 1850, nearly twice the average for the best cotton lands in southern Alabama and Georgia--tells more about Mallory's steady work habits than about his class status. But his most obvious eccentricity--what gave him reason to be remembered--was that nearly every day from 1843 until his death in 1877, Mallory kept a detailed journal of local, national, and often foreign news, agricultural activities, the weather, and especially events involving his family, relatives, slaves, and neighbors in Talladega County, Alabama. Mallory's journal spans three major periods of the South's history--the boom years before the Civil War, the rise and collapse of the Confederacy, and the period of Reconstruction after the Civil War. He owned slaves and raised cotton, but Mallory was never more than a hardworking farmer, who described agriculture in poetical language as "the greatest [interest] of all."

First published in 1949, Frank Lawrence Owsley's Plain Folk of the Old South refuted the popular myth that the antebellum South contained only three classes -- planters, poor whites, and slaves. Owsley draws on a wide range of source materials -- firsthand accounts such as diaries and the published observations of travelers and journalists; church records; and county records, including wills, deeds, tax lists, and grand-jury reports -- to accurately reconstruct the prewar South's large and significant "yeoman farmer" middle class. He follows the history of this group, beginning with their migration from the Atlantic states into the frontier South, charts their property holdings and economic standing, and tells of the rich texture of their lives: the singing schools and corn shuckings, their courtship rituals and revival meetings, barn raisings and logrollings, and contests of marksmanship and horsemanship such as "snuffing the candle," "driving the nail," and the "gander pull." A new introduction by John B. Boles explains why this book remains the starting point today for the study of society in the Old South.

Describes tactical theory in the 1850s and suggests how each related to Civil War tactics Why did the Confederacy lose so many men? The authors contend that the Confederates bled themselves nearly to death in the first three years of the war by making costly attacks more often than the Federals. Offensive tactics, which had been used successfully by Americans in the Mexican War, were much less effective in the 1860s because an improved weapon--the rifle--had given increased strength to defenders. This book describes tactical theory in the 1850s and suggests how each related to Civil War tactics. It also considers the development of tactics in all three arms of the service during the Civil War. In examining the Civil War the book separates Southern from Northern tactical practice and discusses Confederate military history in the context of Southern social history. Although the Southerners could have offset their numerical disadvantage by remaining on the defensive and forcing the Federals to attack, they failed to do so. The authors argue that the Southerners' consistent favoring of offensive warfare was attributable, in large measure, to their Celtic heritage: they fought with the same courageous dash and reckless abandon that had characterized their Celtic forebears since ancient times. The Southerners of the Civil War generation were prisoners of their social and cultural history: they attacked courageously and were killed--on battlefields so totally defended by the Federals that "not even a chicken could get through."