Tracing 'A Long Arc': These 9 Civil War-era photographs in an Atlanta exhibit drive home identity, race and trauma across the South, US

A young Union artilleryman (High Museum of Art, more information below)

I have been remiss in making a timely post about my visit to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta to see its incredible exhibit, “A Long Arc: Photography and the American South since 1845.”

The show, which concludes its Atlanta run on Sunday (Jan. 14), has nearly 200 black and white and color photographs. They are presented chronologically, taking the visitor through a series of rooms.

As the introductory panel says, “A Long Arc” demonstrates “how Southern photography has shaped American concepts of race, place, and history.” I am no art critic, so I offer a New York Times essay, this article and this one for deeper looks.

While I was struck during my October visit by compelling images from the past 100 years (some seen here), I am concentrating this post on the first gallery, related to slavery, secession and the Civil War. (Picket photo below)

As the High states, photography was in its relative infancy on the eve of the war.

“Portrait photography in the antebellum South was most distinctive for how it projected and channeled racial and social identity at a moment of intense debate over slavery. It was not unusual for Southern slaveholders to commission photographs of their children with enslaved members of their households, a means of reinforcing social hierarchies. Yet, significantly, the medium also offered free Black Americans a means to declare their presence and self-possession in a society that did not regard them as citizens.”

Wartime studios provided portraits soldiers could send home. Photographs of battlefield carnage and the destruction of Southern cities viewed the land as “the repository of memory, history, and trauma,” says the High, which amassed most of the collection.

I am sorry that I am writing this just before the Atlanta exhibit ends (life got in the way). But if you can't get there in the next couple days, the Addison Gallery of American Art in Andover, Mass., will be hosting "Long Arc" from March 2 to July 31.

SLAVE PEN IN VIRGINIA

Several images of such markets were taken during the war, often after Federal forces had taken a Rebel city, such as Alexandria, Va., shown here. The photographer was A.J. Russell, a member of the 141^st New York. When he took the photo, the building had been converted into a prison holding Confederates.

According to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, between 1830 and 1836, Alexandria – across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. – was the seat of the slave trade. Hundreds of slaves were held in this building.

A New York Times essay on the High Museum exhibit said this about the “Slave Pen” label for photograph: “Think about the cold fact of that label for a moment. The places where enslaved people were imprisoned before being sold weren’t called jails. They were called pens. Built to contain livestock.”

Andrew Joseph Russell (American, 1830-1902), Slave Pen, Alexandria, Virginia, 1863, albumen silver print from glass negative, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, purchase with funds from the Lucinda Weil Bunnen Fund and the Donald and Marilyn Keough Family, 2021.266. 

DEFIANT SECESH SHOWS HER COLORS

In 1860-61, patriotic fervor (both pro- and anti-secession) was at its height, according to the Creative Cockades website. Women, in particular, wore dresses or other garments festooned with cockades, or they might wear a sash, such as this Southern woman. The reality of a bloody war had not yet set in and many thought the coming conflict would be minimal.

In South Carolina, civilian men and women, and even companies of soldiers, wore palmetto emblems during the Civil War, according to Hinman Auctions.

“Southern cockades were generally all blue, all red, or red and white,” according to Creative Cockades. “Once again, center emblems include stars, military buttons and pictures, but additionally Southern products such as palmetto fronds, pine burs, corn or cotton were used.

Unidentified photographer, woman wearing secession sash,  ca. 1860, ambrotype, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, purchase with funds from the Lucinda Weil Bunnen Fund and the Donald and Marilyn Keough Family, 2021.279. 

WHITE CHILD WITH ENSLAVED CHILD

This image really caught my attention: What was their relationship exactly? What became of them later in life?

The New York Times said this of such photographs: “Even before photographs of battle fortifications and mass graves and prison camps and cities in ruin brought home in detail the enormous scale and human cost of the Civil War, images of the realities of enslaved people in the South inspired widespread moral outrage and aided the abolitionist movement. Southern politicians had been lying about both the benevolence of enslavers and the ‘three-fifths’ nature of Black humanity since the founding of this country, but the real truth about slavery began to come clear to most people outside the South only when first photographs of enslaved people ermerged.”

Whitehurst Studios, Mary Zulette Waterhouse, Richmond, Va., Age about Two, with Unidentified Enslaved Child, 1850s, hand-tinted sixth plate daguerreotype in hinged enclosure, 3 1/2 x 3 inches, Addison Gallery of American Art, Phillips Academy, Andover, MA, museum purchase, 2012.21

CHILLING COLLECTION OF SKULLS

This photograph by John Reekie (1832-1885) can lead viewers to gasp at its content and composition. It was included in a sketch book produced by legendary Civil War photographer Alexander Gardner. The relatively unknown Reekie captured African-American soldiers in April 1865 digging up the remains of Union troops who died nearly a year before at Cold Harbor, Va.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art says this of the photograph: “Reekie’s atypical low vantage point and tight composition ensure that the foreground soldier’s head is precisely the same size as the bleached white skulls and that the head of one of the workers rests in the sky above the distant tree line. It is a macabre and chilling portrait -- literally a study of black and white -- that is as memorable as any made during the war.

A Burial Party, Cold Harbor, Virginia, 1865, published 1866, albumen silver print, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, purchase with funds from the Lucinda Weil Bunnen Fund and the Donald and Marilyn Keough Family, 2021.267

GET YOUR PICTURE RIGHT HERE!

Isaac H. Bonsall (1833–1909), according to the High Museum, was one of many enterprising photographers who took advantage of the public’s rising interest in photography, especially studio portraits, during the onset of the Civil War.

“These photographs allowed sitters to strengthen bonds with their loved ones, reinvent themselves, and construct personal histories,” the museum says. “In 1862, the New York Tribune published an observer’s account of the onslaught of traveling portrait studios among the army: “A camp is hardly pitched before one of the omnipresent artists in collodion and amber … pitches his canvas gallery and unpacks his chemicals.”

Bonsall’s Photo Gallery, Chattanooga, TN, 1865, albumen silver print, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, purchase with funds from the Lucinda Weil Bunnen Fund and the Donald Marilyn Keough Family, 2021.269.

RAMMING THE ROUND HOME

The men of 2nd Regiment, United States Colored Light Artillery, Battery A, are shown on drill circa 1864. Organized in Nashville in 1864 and dispatched until 1866, the unit accompanied the infantry and cavalry troops into battle with horse-drawn cannons.

Though many batteries were relegated to everyday garrison duty, Battery A fought in the Battle of Nashville in December 1864, where these photographs chronicling the loading and firing of the gun may have been taken, the High Museum says.

Unidentified photographer, albumen silver print, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, purchase with funds from the Lucinda Weil Bunnen Fund and the Donald and Marilyn Keough Family, 2021.275.

EYES OF A YOUNG ARTILLERYMAN (top photo)

More than 25.000 black artillerymen, many of whom were freedmen from Confederate states, served in the Union Army. Artillerymen were required to handle hundreds of pounds of supplies, such as the gun, its limber, a traveling forge and caissons to store the ammunition, according to the High Museum.

Unidentified photographer, Young biracial artilleryman, undated, ambrotype, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, purchase with funds from the Lucinda Weil Bunnen Fund and the Donald and Marilyn Keough Family, 2021.280. 

CONFEDERATE WORKS IN GEORGIA

George N. Barnard (1819-1902) arrived in Atlanta shortly after the Confederates abandoned the city. He was intent on taking photographs of its defenses, including this image of what is now part of the Georgia Tech campus.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art says “this view is one of the most frequently cited and reproduced of all Barnard’s war photographs. The subject is an abandoned Confederate fort with rows of chevaux-de-frise running through the landscape.”

Rebel Works in Front of Atlanta, Ga., No. 1, 1864, printed 1866, albumen silver print, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, gift of Mrs. Everett N. McDonnell, 75.23.

At James Longstreet's grave in Georgia, taking measure of a man whose reputation gets stronger with time -- and through a new biography

Longstreet's grave on Sunday, birthday cake later at the Piedmont Hotel (Picket photos)

With a copy of the new biography of James Longstreet in tow, I drove Sunday to Gainesville, Ga., for the annual memorial service honoring the Confederate general.

I’ve been to Alta Vista Cemetery before (though I don’t remember it being as chilly) and I was long familiar with (and have written about) Lt. Gen. Longstreet’s controversial life – his performance at Gettysburg and, later, support for Reconstruction, black suffrage and the Republican Party.

When I visited and interviewed people about the Southern pariah nearly 15 years ago, his story was little-known to most Americans. Yes, the novel “The Killer Angels” and the film “Gettysburg,” coupled with scholarship by historians, helped to usher in a reassessment of the general.

But I think America’s current political divide – a take no prisoners philosophy – and its racial reckoning since Charlottesville and Charleston have made for perfect  timing for Elizabeth R. Varon’s “Longstreet:The Confederate General Who Defied The South.” In the past couple months, I have noticed more articles about Longstreet than ever before. Varon’s biography, which I read over the holidays, has generally been well-received.

A small gathering Sunday at Longstreet's grave in Gainesville, Ga. (Picket photo)

On Sunday, I stood near a dozen other people – many members of the Gainesville-based The Longstreet Society -- circling the family plot. While an impressive monument mentions the general’s Confederate service and an iron Southern Cross of Honor is positioned nearby, it’s notable a U.S. flag flies above the grave and violinist played the National Anthem during the brief service –- 120 years after the man’s passing.

Society president Richard Pilcher gave a brief summary of the general’s life, mentioning his military prowess, public service and courage away from the battlefield – working for reconciliation after the war. “Many Southerners considered him a traitor to the cause, and blamed him for the Confederacy’s defeat,” he said.

Of the people I spoke with at the cemetery and at the society’s headquarters about a mile away, only a couple had read much of Varon’s book, which dubs Longstreet “Confederate Judas” in the prologue. But they know the general’s story – and have been his defender for a generation. (Sharon Johns plays during the memorial service at Alta Vista, below)

Longstreet lived in Gainesville the last 30-plus years of his life, filling federal jobs, writing his memoirs, defending his war record and lobbying for the reunification of North and South. The society has held the memorial service for 29 consecutive years.

Member Doug Smith, a lifelong resident of the area, at the service read Theodore Roosevelt’s famous passage about bravery – the kind Longstreet demonstrated as he defended himself when he was assailed by Southerners who deemed him a turncoat for supporting former enemy Ulysses S. Grant and Reconstruction.

Longstreet, who supported slavery before and during the conflict, did an about-face on race and famously led black and white troops in New Orleans during a violent white uprising in the 1870s. And while he was not a racial egalitarian, Longstreet pushed for black suffrage in the decade after Appomattox (He was not an active civil rights activist in his last years.)

The worthy man, Roosevelt wrote, is he who fights for something despite the pain, willing to fail “while daring greatly.”

I spoke with Smith afterward at the historic Piedmont Hotel, the society’s headquarters. Longstreet operated the hotel and lived there for a time, welcoming those who took a buggy from the rail depot a couple blocks away. He famously served them Southern fried chicken, according to legend.

“You could be flawless if you sat on the couch every day,” Smith told me, providing his perspective on Roosevelt’s words and their application to Longstreet.

As members and visitors enjoyed birthday cake (Longstreet’s birthday is January 8), Smith told me he learned nothing as a child about the general. Southern leaders and educators had brushed Longstreet aside, and veneration for his valor was out of the question.

“I never heard of him one bit until the Gettysburg movie came out,” Smith said of the 1993 film that starred Tom Berenger as Longstreet.

The movie focused heavily on the Gen. Robert E. Lee-Longstreet relationship during the battle. The latter, who Lee called his “old war horse,” lobbied for a more defensive posture.

Longstreet in postwar years voiced his opinion that Lee should not have launched the disastrous Day Three attack at Gettysburg. Advocates of the romantic Lost Cause myth lashed out at him, and said he failed Lee at Gettysburg by delaying the execution of orders.

But many Confederate veterans lionized him and he was popular at reunions, including a notable gathering at Gettysburg in 1888.

The society’s museum mostly covers Longstreet’s military service, his family and the hotel. Pilcher estimates about 60 percent of the interest in the general is about his Civil War record.

Longstreet supporters, like those I spoke with Sunday, defend his actions at Gettysburg. Interestingly, one portrays Lee at various events, such as he did Sunday.

“I love Lee, but Lee made a mistake at Gettysburg,” Raymond E. Loggins, dressed in uniform (left), said on the porch of the remaining portion of the hotel.

Smith said Longstreet was a pragmatist and believed it made sense for the South to accept defeat and move forward. As for the general’s motivation?

“The war is over. We lost. Get over it. I’ve got to make a living,” Smith theorized, who has read portions of the new biography.

Even after reading Varon’s book, I still don’t know exactly why Longstreet took the path he did after the Civil War. Was it because of his deep friendship with Grant? Was it by taking federal jobs in Republican administrations, as he did, he would be exempt from foes firing him if he held a local position? Or, maybe he wanted the South to lower its head and do what it was needed to be full equals.

We may never know, and a framed piece of text at the museum, entitled “PRESENTISM,” goes to the difficulty of understanding the thoughts of people who lived 160 years ago.

Only the first floor of the old Piedmont Hotel survives (Picket photos)

“Presentism is an ugly virus invading journalism, history, religion and other fields,” the message reads. “It is the idea that we should apply the modern world’s moral and ethical standards to judge people of the past who had different standards. And, if people from our past are found wanting in the judgment of the present, the virus would eradicate their names and their memorials from the world.”

Of course, many Americans vociferously disagree when it comes to the Confederacy, saying actions speak louder than words. Civil rights activists, according to CNN, say monuments are racist and offensive because they honor those who promoted the enslavement of Black people.

“Destroying these monuments and these memorials will not erase the legacy of slavery,” said Southern Poverty Law Center researcher Kimberly Probolus in 2022. “But abolishing these memorials is a first and essential step in combating the white supremacist values of the Confederacy.”

Dan Paterson, a great-grandson of Longstreet who lives in Virginia, was unable to attend Sunday’s memorial. But he told me beforehand he plans to read Varon’s book soon.

“I was aware of the book coming out for quite some time and my anticipation was guarded as it usually has been regarding Longstreet books over the years,” Paterson wrote in an email, adding he has enjoyed some biographies of the general.

“Given the monument destruction of the last several years, including grave desecration, I am a bit leery of the angle taken on any former Confederate commander, much less my ancestor,” said Paterson, who said he had ancestors who fought on both sides. He faulted the recent removal of the Confederate monument at Arlington National Cemetery.

“Taking down a reconciliation monument right before Christmas is not a good look.”

Regarding Longstreet, Paterson said: “It seems to me, from what I am told, he will probably be the only former Confederate not canceled. Those are the words of my son. who also added that the liberals/progressives are backing him up or his reputation, as it were.”