OP-ED: Coloring Civil War Photos

As the title of this post suggests, this is merely my opinion. It is in no way intended to offend or to judge anyone.

I have mixed feelings concerning the colorization of Civil War era photos or for that practice to be applied to images made prior to color film. This is my personal taste. To me the black and white picture has less distraction from other things beyond the true subject, whatever that may be. I do realize that coloring can be helpful to some in their study. It can be looked upon as a progression of history and the study of it.

Colorizing photos is not new and has been around in some fashion for nearly as long as photography itself. Numerous examples can be found in the Library of Congress Photo and Print Collection, as well as state archives and historical society collections. They are generally limited to tinting the faces of the subject to add more life or adding some gold to a uniform. Over the last couple of years there has been a trend to digitally colorize the photographs of the American Civil War. Colorizing the old photos can, if done correctly, bring out subtle features that may be difficult to see in the original black and white. Folds in a uniform, texture of the cloth, or a button lost in the shadows are enhanced by adding color. Even the ground of a battlefield can be better appreciated with color added. While not quite three dimensional, color seems to sharpen the little things in a photograph. It is an art in its own right.

Photography of the mid Nineteenth century was a relatively new and interesting art form. The photos generally had a central subject, or focal point, that was intended to draw the viewer into the scene. The peripheral objects such as grass, trees, tables, and tents were just that. They just happened to be there. People viewing the photos at that time knew what color the uniforms were, that the grass was green and the sky was blue. Those things were taken for granted as they were not the subject.

The Twenty-first century removes us from the color of 150 years ago, and colorizing some of the portraits can be helpful to re-enactors, modelers, and just plain folk. It is interesting to see uniforms with rows of shiny brass buttons, or smoke curling from a campfire. Still, much of the coloring is based on educated guess, especially when dealing with Confederate uniforms. Now we can see, if not perfectly, what the soldiers were wearing, the color of the tents, tables,and what not. That is if the viewer does not get lost in the photograph by taking in everything. A scene with a group of officers in front of a tent now becomes the tent, what is in it? What is that lying on the ground next to it? What kind of tree is that? Is that a dog in the background? The officers suddenly become superfluous, lost in the jumble of what once was the background. A good example of this can be seen in the following image.

Burnside with aides near Warrenton Virginia 1862

 

One must look beyond the subject to the background to find the extra soldiers inside the tent. The main subject, Ambrose Burnside and aides is not appreciably lost. With color the men in the tent will become more obvious and then become the subject. I have not seen this in color, but it may come along. There are some photos that would lend themselves well to color, such as the following. I believe it has been color enhanced but I could not find a link to it.
 

 

110th Pennsylvania Infantry near Falmouth, Virginia, December 1862

In this image the subject is the soldiers, so color can enhance it without destroying the original intent of the photographer. So yes, I am all aboard for colorizing images such as these, although with the first example it can be a trade off between the original intent and the modern need to harness the images for newer interests and purposes or just pure curiosity.

 

Adding color to the images of casualties, some of which are quite grisly, seems to be the new order of the day. Copyright considerations do not allow me to add colored versions of images such as the following, but they are beginning to appear. A color version of this image can be seen here  .

 

Dead Confederates at Antietam

 

Casualty photos were new in the Civil War. The imagery of the conflict was largely sanitized and bloodless until after the battle of Antietam in the Autumn of 1862. Then things changed. The photographer Alexander Gardner had been there and soon his images would be on display at Matthew Brady's studio in New York City. The world outside of the immediate vicinity of a battlefield would soon see what war was. Many families had already been touched by the war prior to Antietam and knew of death or brutal wounds but even they were not familiar with the stark reality depicted in Gardner's work. As a New York Times reporter wrote on October 20, 1862:
 

Crowds of people are constantly going up the stairs; follow them, and you find them bending over photographic views of that fearful battle-field, taken immediately after the action. Of all the objects of horror one would think the battle-field preeminent, that it should bear away the palm of repulsiveness. But, on the contrary, there is a terrible fascination about it that draws one near these pictures, and makes him loath to leave them. You will see hushed, reverent groups standing around these weird copies of carnage, bending down to look in the pale faces of the dead, chained by some strange spell that dwells in dead men's eyes. It seems somewhat singular that the same sun that looked down on the faces of the slain, blistering them, blotting out from the bodies all semblance of humanity, and hastening corruption, should have thus caught their features upon canvas, and given them perpetuity for ever. But it is so.[1]

Perhaps it is this same “terrible fascination” that is leading to the coloring of the casualty images. This is where I become uncomfortable with the work. Some of it is well done with only some darkening on the uniform around the wounds. They are not much different than the original. It is my opinion that these images should not be modernized with color, especially some of the more ghastly ones. My opinion may be influenced by the distance of 150 years between the event and today and I have seen the images for many years. The originals are quite terrible enough as they are. The distance of time and my familiarity with the images does not lessen the terrible aspect of the images. The original purpose of them was to show the horrors of the battlefield. They did, and they do, that quite effectively without addition.

Perhaps I am missing the intent behind coloring the dead. Perhaps, but I do have to ask: what benefit can we derive from coloring them?

As you see, I do see the benefits of coloring portraits and camp scenes but it is the dead that I have reservations about. If it advances the scholarship of history I will be all for it. For now though I just do not see it.

I will stick with the black and white, for you see, I know grass is green, the sky is blue... And blood is red.

The Picket

For images from the 19^th century to the present, including Civil War casualties, see the following link. Images colorized and for sale.

http://images.historyinfullcolor.com/allphotos

For other color Civil War images and discussion of them, see the forum at Civil War Talk. Com. Ones marked as “GRAPHIC” are casualties. By looking through the other threads in that forum one can see the value of color for people looking for authenticity in their re enacting or modeling endeavors.

http://civilwartalk.com/forums/colorized-period-photographs.139/

1- New York Times, October 20, 1862, from http://www.nytimes.com/1862/10/20/news/brady-s-photographs-pictures-of-the-dead-at-antietam.html?scp=84&sq=matthew+brady&st=p

Images from the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Online Catalog

Burnside “Warrenton, Virginia, General Ambrose E. Burnside and staff officers” from http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/cwp2003004807/PP/ Alexander Garner, photographer

“Camp of the 110^th Pennsylvania Infantry, Near Falmouth, Virginia, December 1862 from

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2011645181/ photographer unknown

“Antietam, Maryland; Bodies of Confederate dead gathered for burial” from

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/cwp2003000134/PP/ Alexander Gardner, photographer

Other News For February, 1863

The Adams Sentinel (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) was not unlike other newspapers in that its pages were filled with news of the present conflict. On this evening of February 3, 1863, they could have no inkling that the town it served would become the headline. Here is what the paper brought its readers in Other News:

Locusts Coming This Year

Joseph Harris writes to the St. Clairsville (Ohio)Chronicle that the locust will be on hand this year, it being the 17^th since their last appearance. He says:

The Pharaoh locust made their first appearance on the wing May 19, 1846; on the 23^rd commenced singing;on the 31^st commenced boring the trees and laying eggs. June 6, commenced dying; the males first. On the 25^th all dead. (Taken from notes taken at the above dates.)
This year there will be locusts in abundance. Prepare your small trees by tying them up with straw for 25 days and you are safe, if you do it right.[1]

The Sentinel also reported of an interesting, yet disgraceful episode that occurred in the United States Senate. Under discussion was a bill pertaining to political arrests and the suspension of the writ of habeus corpus. This short article is a followup to the main disturbance and bears no headline:

In the U.S. Senate on Wednesday, Mr. Clark of Rhode Island, introduced a preamble and resolution,stating that Senator Saulsbury had behaved in a turbulent and disorderly manner when called to order by the Vice President, and had drawn a pistol and threatened to shoot the Sergeant at Arms, and that such conduct being disgraceful to the Senate, and destructive of all order and decorum, that said Senator be expelled from the Senate. The resolution was laid over.

On Thursday,Senator Saulsbury, having apparently returned to a sound state of mind, apologized for his conduct in the Senate on Tuesday last. It is probable that the resolution for his expulsion will not now be called up.

The account of the tumult is related across the page, and the tirade is full of anti- Lincoln venom. Statements from Saulsbury include:

(Saulsbury) stated that Mr. Lincoln was the weakest man ever placed in high office. He said he had been in conversation with him, and knew he was an imbecile.

(Saulsbury) if he wanted to paint a despot,he would paint the hideous form of Abraham Lincoln.[2]

The entire scene seems to have played out over several hours with the disgruntled Saulsbury being escorted from, then returning to the chamber several times. He was finally removed once and for all. Willard Saulsbury Sr. was a Democrat from Delaware. The resolution to expel him in fact was never taken up and he remained in office until 1871.

Willard Saulsbury Sr.

Pittsburgh Gazette Reports some mischief on February 26:

Snowballers Arrested

Two boys named Edward Fennity and – Howard were yesterday arrested for throwing snowballs at a man who was driving through the streets of Allegheny. The man declined to prosecute, and the boys were let off on paying the costs.

The paper also warns of a scam that the authorities feel may be in its early stages:

A few days since a rather good looking girl was engaged as a domestic at the residence of a gentleman on Penn Street, and worked well until the evening of the second day, when she suddenly disappeared, carrying away a set of fine furs, some dresses and some other clothing belonging to the lady of the house – together with her jewelry box,containing a valuable gold watch, three sets of jewelry, and other articles , worth probably $250. It is now believed that the whole affair was a well arranged scheme of robbery – that the girl had a confederate in the business, and that she will endeavor to play the same game upon others.[3]

 

George B. McClellan was seen in Boston, Massachusetts and the Boston Evening Transcript of February 6 reported two instances:

 

General McClellan visited the Everette School today, and was of course enthusiastically received by the little folks, to whom he was introduced by the teacher as “the savior of his country.” Mac being Mac. [4]

Another sighting found him at 11 o'clock on a special train bound for Salem.

At Lynn a large concourse of people were gathered to see him and a salute of 13 guns was fired. On his arrival at Salem a salute was also fired, and the pressure of the crowd at the railroad station made a passage through it very difficult. He was driven at once to the Essex House, and was there introduced to a large number of the prominent citizens. Col. Goodrich of Gen. Burnside's staff, and other soldiers who had seen service, were also present. Gen. McClellan was afterward entertained at the house of Geo. Peabody, Esq., and returned to this city [Boston] during the afternoon.

Last evening Gen. McClellan was presented with a very handsome sword, with a richly chased hilt containing a diamond. The sword was purchased at a cost of several hundred dollars by some of his friends in this city, and was presented by the Citizens Committee. No speeches were made, but a letter from the Committee requesting his acceptance of the weapon was read by one of their number. The General afterward attended a soiree at a private residence.[5]

McClellan at his finest no doubt. He may have been cultivating prominent citizens in an effort to return to command of the Amy of the Potomac or to the army in some other capacity. It surely appears that way.

The Daily Journal at Wilmington North Carolina got wind of the story and offered this in the February 7 issue, via the Richmond Whig. It questions McClellan motives:

Yankee Generals

The two dismissed Yankee heroes, McClellan and Burnside, are having a pleasant time down East. McClellan is in Bosting, hob-nobbing with the cod-fish aristocracy of the ancient Burg. He has been honored with a series of grand receptions,by Ed. H. Elridge,(Eldredge) Esq., Wm. Gray, Esq., Mr. Wolcott and Mr. Lawrence – 800 invited guests, refreshments. He had visited Cambridge, attended by that prince of flunkies, the Honorable Edward Everett, and was promised a grand demonstration in Faneuil Hall. “Those who have had the good fortune to meet the General (says Jenkins) are uniform in their commendations of the man. Though not a brilliant conversationalist, he is unmistakably a sensible man – which is much better.”

The motive of this visit to the Puritans is yet a secret. These are the people that had McClellan dismissed, and have persecuted all connected with him. Does he seek to humiliate them by extorting ovations, or is he seeking a restoration to the command of the Army, by a public acknowledgment of the supremacy of the genuine Yankee?[6]

 

This was only half of the short article reporting on the trip, and it was no more flattering to Burnside in the other half.

The Boston trip was made at the invitation of conservative Republicans there. Perhaps the article in the Daily Journal was correct in its assumption that McClellan was gaining a measure of satisfaction at the Boston elites, and the Republican Party's, expense. The Republicans may have found themselves with their collective heads in a noose. If they could cozy up to McClellan, the soldiers might tend to vote for their party. Affection for Mac was still high in the Army of the Potomac. After the Battle of Fredericksburg, Francis Blair Sr. wrote a letter to Abraham Lincoln dated the December 18 urging him to give McClellan a high command, preferably the Army of the Potomac:

“We must look to the army as a great political as well as war machine. The soldiers are to give us success in the field and at the polls. McClellan is dear to them. He will bring them to the support of the country & you.” [7] The Republicans needed Mac.

 

Democratic Presidential Campaign - 1864

McClellan may have began nursing his political aspirations during the Winter of 1862 – 63, and the trip to Boston was a way for him to gain some traction. It is interesting that McClellan was living in New York City (Manhattan) and was often seen in company of several prominent conservative Democrats, including John Jacob Astor who had been a volunteer on his staff during the Peninsular Campaign as well as other friends, old and new, who were influential Democrats. It would not be uncommon to continue long standing relations with those men. Still, it may have given the Republicans pause. New York City newspapers followed his movements as did numerous other papers around the country.

And there was :

The War

The Scientific American of February 21 brings news of a new implement of devastation:

Crozier's Patent Automatic Battery

All that is necessary, then, in this battery, is to work the handle up and down,and the battery vomits forth a discharge of bullets which is truly terrible to contemplate in its destructive power. [8]

 

 

Although the Seventh Indiana (119^th Regiment of Volunteers) did not muster in until October 1863, news of the Enrollment Act was being spread in the Northern press in February. The act was signed by Lincoln March 3, and posters like this would blossom across the country during the late Winter and Spring of 1863.

 

 

The Picket

Sources

1-The Adams Sentinel, February 3, 1863 (image 2) from Google news

http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=SDNreWq1RjYC&dat=18630203&printsec=frontpage&hl=en

2-ibid

3- The Daily Pittsburgh Gazette, February 26, 1863, images 2 and 3 at Google news, http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=TNEldfgDb5MC&dat=18630226&printsec=frontpage&hl=en

4-Boston Evening Transcript, February 6, 1863, image 2 from Google news.google.com http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=sArNgO4T4MoC&dat=18630206&printsec=frontpage&hl=en

5- Ibid, image 4

6- Daily Journal, Wilmington North Carolina, February 7, 1863 image 2 from Google news.google.com http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=Cew3JUE5alsC&dat=18630207&printsec=frontpage&hl=en

7- Sears, Stephen W., George B. McClellan The Young Napoleon, 1988, page 351

8- The Scientific American, February 21, 1863, page 1 and 2 from Internet Archives, http://archive.org/stream/scientific-american-1863-02-21/scientific-american-v08-n08-1863-02-21#page/n0/mode/2up

Broadside from Indiana Historical Society, Civil War Materials collection, http://images.indianahistory.org/cdm4/item_viewer.php?CISOROOT=/dc008&CISOPTR=202&CISOBOX=1&REC=9

McClellan and Saulsbury from the Library of Congress

A Changed Perspective: July 4th, 1864, in Diaries

Hell had broken loose that Spring of 1864. Places that once were unknown beyond the local populations would become synonymous with death and suffering. Names like Marietta, Kennesaw Mountain, and Resaca lay in the path of William T. Sherman and his army, and the Confederacy was slowly being ground away from the west. Meanwhile, Robert E. Lee and Ulysses Grant were locked in the embrace of death with names like the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Cold Harbor being forever etched upon the memories of the citizens of both sides.

The Year 1864 was not a good year for some of the men of the Thirty-Fifth Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. The men had been formed and mustered into Federal service In August , 1862, “for three years or during the war” with some of their officers already veterans, and all ready to serve. The regiment had seen much fighting including fights at South Mountain and Antietam, and Fredricksburg. They transferred west for a time and saw service in Kentucky and East Tennessee, before returning to the east for the Wilderness and the battles beyond. On this July 4, some of the men had been prisoners of war, held at the prison camp at Andersonville Georgia. One of the men, Sergeant Henry Tisdale, was captured May 24 while fighting at the North Anna River (Hanover Junction) in Virginia. He shared a portion of his journal chronicling his life as a prisoner with the committee compiling the regimental history. Here is what he wrote on that bleak day:

“Woke to thoughts of home, inspired by “the day we celebrate”. For the last two weeks I have been saving up the extra rations allowed me of the meal and rice,we four having determined to have a Fourth of July dinner, if possible. (his messmates were two other men from the Thirty -Fifth and one from a New York cavalry regiment) The extra rations have at times been liberal, so by scrimping a little we saved what, put upon the market brought us the sum of two dollars and seventy cents. With this we concluded to have a bean soup. We purchased of the Reb sutler two onions for sixty-five cents, six potatoes for eighty cents, a red pepper for twenty-five cents, one and a half pints of beans for thirty-five cents and pork for forty cents. We had a jolly time cooking it and smacked our lips as heartily in eating it as ever at in Fourth of July in the Old Bay State.” [1]

Whilst the Bay Staters were celebrating the day with a fine meal of bean soup, Sergeant Onley Andrus of the Ninety-Fifth Illinois, which was mustered into Federal Service in September, 1862. He writes from Memphis to his sister:

“Yesterday was the “Glorious Fourth” at least up in Gods country. I suppose you make it so,but here patriotism is at a discount. I was in the city yesterday a while. The Militia was out and paraded the principle streets. The only noticeable feature in their maneuvers was the long faces and their growlings and mutterings at such proceedings,as it was very warm. The day passed off very quickly at our camp. Only a few got tight, and them not very.” [2]

This is quite a comparison. The boys from Massachusetts were still celebrating with what they had, and the boy from Illinois complains it is hot.

Corporal James E. Hall of the Thirty-First Virginia is still keeping his diary. He has also had a bad year, but his troubles began on another July day in 1863. On July 3 he was wounded at Gettysburg, and as he trailed the Army of Northern Virginia southward as one of the walking wounded he was captured the afternoon of July 5. That was a sad 4th for him also. At first he was confined at Fort Delaware, having arrived there on July 10. He would remain there until October 25 when he was transferred to Point Lookout, Maryland, where he arrived October 27, 1863.

On this July 4,1864 he records:

“All quiet still today. Two gunboats lying close to the Point have exhibited an unusual number of national flags,as this is their national day. Have heard no salutes yet.” [3]

Hall was quite faithful about writing in his diary so it may be presumed that he did not hear any “national salutes”. If he had he would surely have noted it. Another thing to notice is his reference to the Fourth as “their national day” and completely dismissing the promise it had once held for both sections. Hall would remain at Point Lookout until February 10, 1865, when he was exchanged. He went on furlough, which was cut short, and rejoined the regiment on March 16, near Petersburg, Virginia. He would see the end of the Army of Northern Virginia on April 9, 1865.

The end was near, but so far away on the Fourth of July, 1864. Attitudes concerning the day had changed dramatically since the first summer of the war. As can be seen by the diaries of the two prisoners, one still holds the day in high esteem, while the other dismisses it as being their day.

The ladies of the south hold it dear, yet realize their own independence may never come. They also use the day to vent their wrath upon the “Yankees”. Some of the diaries, which were not used here, give no notice whatsoever of the day. As with the 1862 diary entry of James H. Hougland, First Indiana Cavalry, then in Arkansas, writes:

“On a scout. 2 companies of the Illinois 33^rd, 2 companies of Indiana 8^th cavalry, Wisconsin 11^th, Indiana cavalry crossed Little Run. Saw Horseshoe and Strate lakes. Saw where the Rebels had camp. Charged. Had a fight at mouth of Rat River. Killed & took prisoners & clothes & provisions. Some of the Rebels ran off naked. Camped at Mr. Stokes's on Little Run. Had plenty of provisions. Pot of coffee.” [4]

It is true that coffee was a much welcome commodity to both sides, but what of the day?

July Fourth, 1865 will see the Union whole once more. Unity however will be some time in coming.

The Picket

Sources

1- Carruth, S., Cutter, T. E., Snow, E.F., et al, (1884) History of the Thirty-Fifth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, Boston. Mills, Knight & Co. printers

2- Andrus, O., Shannon, F.A., (1947) The Civil War Letters of Sergeant Onley Andrus, Urbana

3- Hall, J. Edmond, Dayton, R. Woods, (1961). The Diary of a Confederate Soldier: James E. Hall.[Lewisburg ? W. Va.] Page 62

4- Hougland, J. H., (1962), Civil War Diary of James H. Hougland,Company G, First Indiana Cavalry,for the Year 1862., Bloomington, Ind,:Monroe County Civil War Centennial Commission and Monroe County Historical Society, 1962

Source 1 retrieved from Googlebooks, http://books.google.com/

Sources 2-4 retrieved from Hathi Trust, http://www.hathitrust.org/

July 4th, 1861 in Diaries

Independence Day in the United States is always filled with food and fireworks as the citizens celebrate the day our forbears declared we were to be a sovereign nation and no longer willing to be governed by England. The day was observed in both sections of the country over the course of 84 years. 1860 would see the last July 4^th celebration with the nation whole and undivided. During the years 1861- 1865 the populations of both sides, civilian and soldier alike, would at least remember the day.

The following extracts were gleaned from diaries of soldiers and civilians, soldier letters, and regimental histories. They are for the year 1861.

July 4, 1861 had yet to see much of war. Fort Sumter had surrendered in April, but beyond a few very minor skirmishes not much had happened since and the First Battle of Manassas was still nearly three weeks in the future. There was nothing yet to show what lay ahead and almost every one believed it was going to be a short war.

Private Edward H. Basset of the First Minnesota Volunteer Infantry writes in his diary that:

“A national salute was fired here on July 4^th. In the evening some fire ballast rockets were set off over Washington and Alexandria. We were 7 or 8 miles from Washington, and the light from some of the balls thrown was enough to read by.” [1]

First Bull Run would be the baptism of fire on “the altar of Mars” for the boys of the First Minnesota.

A musician in the Nineteenth Ohio Volunteer Militia, a ninety day outfit, offers glowing reflection on the founding fathers in his regimental diary and includes the following line:

“...to-day the true sons of those noble old sires are contending for the rights guaranteed to them by the Declaration of Independence against foes that are far more unprincipled and dangerous than the minions of Geo. III in the days of '76, but may they, as the enemies of our country did at that time, be made to feel that the arms of freemen are long and strong and Tyranny shall feel their power.” [2]

Eloquent to say the least, and if one did not know the source of this, it would leave the impression a Southern Confederate may have written it. Such was the reverence of the day and the foundation it provided for the country as a whole. And such was the passion that led people of both sides to proclaim resistance to tyranny made theirs a noble cause.

The Nineteenth O.V.M. would participate in the Battle of Rich Mountain July 11, its only action of consequence, before it mustered out in August, 1861.

Jesse W. Reid, a private in the Fourth South Carolina Volunteer Infantry wrote in a letter to his wife on July 2:

“We are all anxiously awaiting the Fourth of July; it is only two days off. After it is over it will not be long till we know what to depend on.”

The South Carolinian was very aware that the United States Congress was set to convene on Independence Day. The next line Reid betrays his apprehension as to what course that body would choose to follow.

“A great many men here seem to flatter themselves that there will be but little fighting done. I can't say how it may be, but I very much doubt that doctrine. We will all soon know more about it.”

In a letter dated July 5, Reid tells his wife:

“On yesterday, the Fourth, the ladies and gentlemen of Leesburg and surrounding country came here in great numbers. The ladies presented us with a beautiful flag. A Virginia officer made the presentation speech in the name of the ladies. The acceptation speech was made by

Warren T. Wilkes, of Anderson, in the name of the regiment. We all agreed that it should never trail in the dirt. The Fourth is over. We will soon know what to depend on.”

The Fourth South Carolina Infantry would soon be fighting at First Manassas. In a letter to his wife written three days after the battle he concludes:

“Although the fight is over the field is yet quite red with blood from the wounded and the dead.” [3]

It would appear that Reid, Basset, and “The Musician” now knew what they “could depend on.”

That first Independence Day of the war was still viewed by the country with the naivete of children. Independence for the South would surely be secured or the Union preserved before the next July 4^th arrived, long before the turning of the calender to 1862 even. Remembered by both sections, July 4th still had meaning to both and neither fully comprehending what was about to unfold.
Bull Run was only a faint rumble of thunder over the horizon, a spectre of horror as yet unseen.

The Fourth of July would be different for the United States forever after.

The Picket

Sources

1- Basset, E.H., Basset, M. Harrison, Bull Run to Bristow Station Page 6-7

2- “A Musician” (1861) Three Months in Camp and Field:Diary of an Ohio Volunteer, Page 42

3- Reid, J. W., (1892), Diary of the Fourth Regiment of South Carolina Volunteers, Page 16-17, 26

All retrieved from http://www.hathitrust.org/

The USS Cumberland

Midday of March 8, 1862 brought what looked to some to be “The roof of a very large barn, belching smoke as from a chimney on fire.” coming out of the mouth of the Elizabeth River and into Hampton Roads. The CSS Virginia was on the prowl, and churning its way across the Roads toward its targets, USS Congress and USS Cumberland anchored at Newport News. They were rapidly becoming part of a bygone era, and by nightfall that era would end. They were of wooden structure, and propelled by the wind in their sails. Today they would face Virginia, and her steam propulsion and her iron encased hull, and neither ship would last the day.

Three other Federal warships were anchored at nearby Fortress Monroe, the frigates Minnesota and Roanoke, also of wooden construction but with steam auxiliary power, and the St. Lawrence, strictly wood and sail. All would lend some weight to the fight this day, but Minnesota and St. Lawrence would run aground and Roanoke was immobile due to a damaged propeller. She gave long range “moral support” , if ineffectual, fire. Federal shore batteries would also add to the maelstrom.

Congress and Cumberland had seen the monster coming and had slipped their anchors and cleared for action. The two big ships maneuvered as best they could to bring broadsides to bear against Virginia, but had difficulty in doing so. Yet they poured a hot fire as best they could at the unwieldy beast. Virginia was no mosquito, and she, too, had problems bringing all of her guns to bear at once. Her fire was devastating to the wooden vessels where as theirs was of little effect on the iron skin of their foe.

Virginia ran by Congress, unleashing a broadside as she went, then plowed her iron beak into the starboard side of Cumberland. The two ships stuck together as Cumberland took on water and Virginia wrestled to wrench herself free. Finally the two separated only as Cumberland began to settle and Virginia's iron snout was broken off. Cumberland soon settled to the bottom, her gun crews at their pieces to the very last. Their last broadside blew the muzzles off of two of Virginia’s guns.

Virginia now turned her attention again toward Congress, now run hard aground in her attempt to get to water the captain suspected would be to shallow for Virginia to maneuver in, only finding the depth much to shallow for his own craft. Virginia closed in and poured devastating fire into the stricken ship. Congress finally struck her colors and hoisted a white flag.

At dusk the fight would end. Light was fading and the tide was ebbing, so Virginia retreated to the mouth of the Elizabeth River. Congress was burning and would explode near midnight. Cumberland was under the waters of the Roads. Minnesota, St. Lawrence, and Roanoke were helpless, or nearly so. March 9, 1862 would possibly see the end of the Yankee fleet at Hampton Roads. It must have been a long night for the men there. But a new day brought forth a new era in the form of a “cheese box on a raft”... the USS Monitor. [1]

The above is to give some background of the first day of the fight at Hampton Roads and is in no way intended to be a definitive history on the battle. I did feel that some idea of what took place there would help the reader appreciate the following poem more, or if you are a stickler for detail, less appreciation.

The poem was published in 1863 by one of the 19^th century's literary giants, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and inspired by the fight put up by the Cumberland and her crew on the first day of the battle. It is interesting to see he chose this subject rather than the more glamorous fight between Virginia and Monitor. Although it was published in 1863, the poem likely was written sometime in 1862 and shortly after the battle.

The Cumberland

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay,
On board of the Cumberland, sloop-of-war;
And at times from the fortress across the bay
The alarum of drums swept past,
Or a bugle blast
From the camp on the shore.
Then far away to the south uprose
A little feather of snow-white smoke,
And we knew that the iron ship of our foes
Was steadily steering its course
To try the force
Of our ribs of oak.
Down upon us heavily runs,
Silent and sullen, the floating fort;
Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns,
And leaps the terrible death,
With fiery breath,
From each open port.
We are not idle, but send her straight
Defiance back in a full broadside!
As hail rebounds from a roof of slate,
Rebounds our heavier hail
From each iron scale
Of the monster's hide.
"Strike your flag!" the rebel cries,
In his arrogant old plantation strain.
"Never!" our gallant Morris replies;
"It is better to sink than to yield!"
And the whole air pealed
With the cheers of our men.
Then, like a kraken huge and black,
She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp!
Down went the Cumberland all a wrack,
With a sudden shudder of death,
And the cannon's breath
For her dying gasp.
Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay,
Still floated our flag at the mainmast head.
Lord, how beautiful was Thy day!
Every waft of the air
Was a whisper of prayer,
Or a dirge for the dead.
Ho! brave hearts that went down in the seas!
Ye are at peace in the troubled stream;
Ho! brave land! with hearts like these,
Thy flag, that is rent in twain,
Shall be one again,
And without a seam! [2]

There are facts woven into the poem that have not been distorted by poetic license. Parts one would expect to be romanticized indeed happened such as; Franklin Buchanan, commander of Virginia on the 8^th did demand Cumberland's surrender as she was sinking and was indeed met by a resounding “NO”. Also, when she went down she settled upright, and one mast bearing the Stars and Stripes remained above water. And finally, if not prophetically,

“Thy flag, that is rent in twain.

Shall be one again,

And without a seam!”

The Picket

Sources

1) Catton, Bruce, Terrible Swift Sword, pages 193-199, 1963

2) Pictures retrieved from http://www.history.navy.mil/index.html 4 June, 2012

3) Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1863, retrieved from http://www.hwlongfellow.org/poems_poem.php?pid=55, 4 June, 2012

Escape!

Captain Robert D. Chapman, Fifty-Fifth Georgia Infantry was captured at Cumberland Gap on September 9, 1863, and sent north toward the prison at Johnson's Island. He did not quite make it as he and a companion, Lieutenant James Lane made good an escape after a couple of days march. Evading Federal pickets and Yankee columns marching south, the pair also had bandits and bushwhackers to avoid. Some proved to be very dangerous as evidenced by Chapman and Lane's capture by a clan of them, and their nearly being murdered by them. Both Confederates had spent some time in the region and knew full well the dangers presented by such men. When the clan proposed their release early one morning, the men that were to escort them discharged their rifles, then reloaded them. Alarm bells went off in Chapman's head, and when their escort instructed the soldiers to take the left fork of a mountain path while they themselves took the right, it was enough evidence to Chapman that evil was afoot. The two followed the left fork a distance enough to be out of sight of their would be killers, then dove off of the trail and beat a hasty retreat through the underbrush. After some hours floundering through the tangled terrain the men found a path, followed it, only to find the cabin they came to looked very familiar. They had traveled in circles and were right back where the most danger lay, the home of the bloody clan! Realizing their mistake they quickly went the opposite direction!

After much tramping along rough trails, wading creeks, and generally wearing themselves out, they found a barn which to them looked more like civilization. It was early morning and they were spent, footsore, and famished. They helped themselves to some fence rails for a fire to dry their clothes, (not the smartest move, but they seem to have gotten away with it) then they curled up in the straw in the barn and slept, un-disturbed, for several hours. Late in the morning the soldiers roused themselves and set out again, traveling at a slow pace, not so much to avoid suspicion, but they were in no shape to travel quickly and Chapman had one shoe that was badly damaged and his sock was placed over it to keep it together. He would praise Southern women for their ability to knit such rugged socks!

Chapman and Lane traveled east and past the home of the farmer whose barn they had slept in and asked of his young son if the road led to a Rebel camp. Yes, was the answer, and the pair continued on their way. Unbeknownst to the Confederates, the farmer was a member of a Union Home Guard outfit that had been organized by loyal Union men in the neighborhood to protect their property from the ravages of Rebel bushwhacker bands. These were not the typical partizans or guerrillas that had the Confederate Cause at heart, rather they were the outlaws, thieves, and murderers that preyed on innocent victims irregardless of their loyalties. They quite often fought each other, and some of these bands were made up of deserters from both armies. In essence they were from the lowest stratum the Confederacy (or Federals) had to offer.

The farmers name was Sizemore which was also the name of the clan that had nearly murdered the two men up in the hills. This man was more upstanding and denounced his kinsmen. This Sizemore was told by his son that the men had passed by, and he and another man set out to capture them, thinking they were a part of an outlaw band or were on their way to become a part of one that inhabited the area. They took a short cut and placed themselves ahead of the weary soldiers, and soon captured them, the Confederates offered no resistance. Chapman felt that he would have been better off if they had just shot him, rather than having to face capture and its unknown result. Chapman and Lane presented themselves under aliases and as deserters from the Rebel army, the same story they had given to the hill country clan, just in case these men were more closely knit to their kin than they let on. Fortunately they were not, and as luck would have it their capture in all probability had saved their lives, for the camp they were heading toward in fact did belong to one of the bushwhacker bands.

News of Chapman and Lane's escape from the hills had reached the farmers home while he was in pursuit of the two rebels. The farmer demanded a full accounting of the episode, but Chapman balked, he being still unsure of the intent of his captor. He finally told all, but retained the facade of their being Rebel deserters. This satisfied Sizemore, who told them that they were the only two people he had ever heard of that had encountered his deadly kin and survived to tell the tale. They were still his prisoners, but now they were under the protection of Farmer Sizemore who promised to get the articles stolen from them earlier by his kin, and he did.

Farmer Sizemore advised the Confederates to travel to Booneville, Kentucky,with he and another man as escort, and turn themselves over to the Provost Marshal stationed there and take the oath to the Federal government. This he said would provide them legitimate travel papers so the two could travel freely about the countryside and eventually home. Chapman and Lane agreed to this, with one unspoken stipulation. They would not take the oath, but would turn themselves over to the Provost Marshal as officers in the Fifty-fifth Georgia, Confederate States Army. They preferred to be treated as prisoners of war than be seen as turncoats in the Confederacy. The 15^th of September 1863 marked the end of Robert Chapman's and James Lane's odyssey in the hill country. They had been on the lamb since the September 11, and the next day would see them once again on their way to Johnson's Island, only this time they would be delivered.



Captain Robert D. Chapman

Chapman and Lane arrived at Johnson's Island September 30, but were housed away from other officers of the Fifty-fifth as housing was allotted according to date of arrival. Chapman would contract diphtheria that winter but would recover. The winter of 1863-64 was one of the harshest in the region in years, and diphtheria and pneumonia ran wild through the camp. Life in the camp was not pleasant of course, but Chapman states that the food was adequate as far as prison fare goes, and only diminished as Lake Erie froze then later thawed rendering it difficult to supply the prison. Of course there was always a tunnel being dug or other means of escape being considered at all times. Shortly before his departure from the island, Chapman was involved in digging his own tunnel, but gave up when it was announced that he, along with other prisoners, would be transferred to Point Lookout, Maryland. James Lane would remain at Johnson's Island for the remainder of the war and be released in June 1865.

Chapman left the island on February 9, 1864 and was carried by boat to Sandusky, Ohio, where he and the others would be transported to Point Lookout by rail. He still had no intention of remaining a prisoner, and even had absconded with a couple of small saws from a workshop on the island. With these he attempted to saw through the floor of the train car that transported him and his fellows toward their new home. This plan was soon to be discarded, as the first saw was badly dulled in the effort, and the hole was discovered. At each stop along the way a guard detail was set on the platform and the opposite side of the train, so escape once the train stopped was rendered a hopeless proposition. The only other option was to exit the car through a window while the train was slowing down for a stop but still in motion. This plan was settled on, and Chapman was about to go into the night alone. He was better prepared for this escape, in a sense, than he was for the episode in the hills. He had learned from a fellow prisoner of a citizen, a young lady in Emmetsburg, Maryland, that would aid him and she would be able to point the way toward other sympathetic souls who would tell of more friends that would aid him in getting south. So near ten o'clock in the evening, February 11, 1864, his escape was made amid “thunder and lightning, earthquake, dirt, dust, and blood” just outside York, Pennsylvania. It had been discovered he was missing so he had to evade guards for a short time, but the train and guards finally moved on. “A lone Confederate had invaded Pennsylvania and flanked the enemy”!

From here his escape was somewhat tame as compared to the earlier adventure, yet he was still in danger of discovery all along the rout. The weather had turned foul, but his contacts were very hospitable but he could not linger long in one spot. He would travel through snowstorms and freezing landscapes along the way but he had to move, for his sake as well as his hosts. At length he would enter the Shenandoah Valley where he would meet half a dozen Virginia cavalrymen who were on furlough and secretly visiting kin in the Valley. These men comprised his escort home to Confederate lines where he arrived safely on March 1, 1864. After he was verified to be who he said he was, he went to Staunton, Virginia, where he entered the hospital for a few days. Then he went to Richmond to have a new set of identification papers made, having burned his originals way back in September of 1863, then applied for and received a thirty day furlough.

Captain Robert D. Chapman served the Confederate States for the remainder of the war among what was left of the Fifty-fifth Georgia, about 130 men, as part of a guard detachment and as Adjutant at the prison at Andersonville, Georgia and later in the line of Joseph Johnston's army facing Sherman in Georgia and the Carolinas. It all was the adventure of lifetime, or a lifetime in an adventure.

Source

Chapman, R.D., A Georgia Soldier in the Civil War, 1861-1865, 1923

Retrieved from http://www.hathitrust.org/

The Grant-Buckner Friendship

February 16, 1862 was a gloomy day for the Confederate soldiers at Fort Donelson on the Cumberland River near the Tennessee town of Dover. The weather was of course cold, but the gloom was not completely the result of foul weather. The command structure of this little army had very nearly collapsed entirely. The ranking generals, Brigadier General John B. Floyd (late Secretary of War in the Buchanan administration) and Brigadier General Gideon J. Pillow abandoned the place in the night. They feared a swift trip to the gallows for treason if they were captured by Ulysses Grant's army.

To make matters more distressing, Nathan Bedford Forrest, a colonel of cavalry at the time, had also left the place, slipping across icy swamps to safety. Forrest was no coward but he saw the futility of the position. Forrest declared he was going take his command out of the trap before it was surrendered or “bust hell wide open” in the attempt. [1]

The command of Donelson finally rested on Brigadier General Simon Bolivar Buckner. “For my part, I will stay with the men, and share their fate.” [2]

S.B. Buckner

Buckner was born April 1, 1823 near Munfordville, Kentucky and received sufficient education in the schools of the area to place him on good footing when he applied for and received an appointment to the US Military Academy at West Point. While there he would become acquainted with many cadets that would later become notable or notorious during the War Between the States. Among these were Thomas Jackson, George McClellan, Ambrose Burnside, and George Pickett. Also among the cadets at the same time was one Sam Grant. Buckner's own class of 1844 also graduated the renowned Winfield Hancock and Alfred Pleasanton. Buckner graduated eleventh in the class of twenty-five. [3] He served in the war with Mexico and was brevetted to captain for distinguished gallantry. And so did Sam Grant, who was also brevetted to the rank of captain during the war, for the same reason. Their friendship had dated back many years prior to the Civil War, including a time Buckner had covered a penniless Grants hotel bill in New York City while both were there. It was not a loan exactly, no money was
exchanged, but Grant did repay Buckner from money sent to him by his father Jesse Grant. Their friendship was therewith cemented. [4]

Now on this cold February day in 1862 the pair were facing each other. This time over the barrels of guns pointing in opposite directions. It must have been a strange feeling for Buckner knowing his old friend was across the way in command of troops who would make no such distinction. Grant was aware Buckner was in Fort Donelson, but he was not likely to know that Buckner was now in command of the fort. Not until he received the letter under flag of truce seeking terms over Buckner's name.

U.S. Grant

Grants response of “immediate and unconditional surrender” was followed by Buckners bitter reply; he would “accept the ungenerous and unchivalrous terms you propose.” In no way was Grant obligated to offer anything beyond this, and Buckner as a soldier would have known that. Perhaps his surly reply was based on the next line of Grants message: “I propose to move immediately upon your works.” It is quite possible Buckner may have expected a more cordial response to his request for terms given the old relationship the men shared, but it is doubtful he was expecting anything beyond what was acceptable military practice of the day. For his response he would be labeled by the press as being “petty”.

The two commanders would meet in an atmosphere that Grant termed as “very friendly”. Talking of the “old days” was not a matter of discussion, burial of the dead was uppermost in their minds, procuring rations for the prisoners and the number of them Grant was about to deal with took precedence. The next morning Buckner would be on his way north on a steamer, a prisoner of war, and Grant would be planning his next move. In the end the Confederates would receive what was due them as to terms which closely resemble what Grant offered Lee at Appomattox. Commissioned officers were allowed to keep their sidearms and personal property, the ranks were allowed their blankets, clothing, and personal property they could carry on their backs, plus they were issued two days rations. That is usually where the story of Fort Donelson ends, but before the two generals parted, Grant offered his “purse” to Buckner, which he politely declined. The old friendship was there still, but a bit strained. How would it have looked if the press had gotten a hold of this incident at the time? Surely Grants loyalty would have been called into question at a minimum, and Shiloh was a scant six weeks away. An episode such as this coupled with the first day of Shiloh may well have wrecked Grants career that was only now beginning to blossom. Fortunately for all concerned, even to this generation, Grant made his offer discreetly and no one was the wiser.

The press condemned Buckner roundly for the defeat soon after the surrender. That would ease somewhat when they learned of the actions of Pillow and Floyd.

After the war, Buckner would become a newspaper editor in New Orleans and then Louisville. While editor of the Louisville Courier in 1868 he was somewhat “baited” into making disparaging remarks about the then candidate candidate for the President of the United States, General Ulysses Grant. A New York paper had quoted him as saying Grant “was no general”, to which Editor Buckner replied: “he [Buckner] begged the indulgence of doing his own thinking, even though the Radicals may deem it advisable to deny so great a privilege to General Grant, and seek to limit the play of his intellect to horses and cigars.” [5] Therefore he would not use his position as editor to disparage anyone and his thoughts on Grants generalship had no bearing on the platform, the candidate, or if he merited his candidacy. He would keep his own counsel on the matter. The Courier was a leading Democrat newspaper in Kentucky, and Grant was a Republican. It would have been very easy to inflict damage on Grants campaign if he chose to. Buckner would support the Democratic ticket of Horatio Seymour and Frank Blair Jr. but at least he did not and would not attack Grant.

After Grant served two terms a president he entered private life and in 1884 his last business venture failed. Grant had invested nearly all of his savings in a banking firm in 1881 and the head of the firm swindled the money along with the investments of other Grant relatives including Ulysses Jr., a partner in the firm. There are no records that show Buckner sent any financial aid to the bereft former president, but a bishop in the Methodist Church South, E.E. Hoss, claims that Buckner sent Grant a check for $5000 dollars at the time. Buckner does not seem to deny or confirm the story himself. [6]

Shortly before Grant died at Mount McGregor, New York in July, 1885 Buckner with his new wife Delia, visited the dieing man. Esophageal cancer had rendered speaking painful for Grant painful, so his side of the conversation was carried out by writing on a note pad. The pair talked of Mexico and their time at West Point, and Buckner told his old friend that the soldiers, indeed most of the citizens of the old Confederacy were appreciative of him “not only for the magnanimity at the close of the war, but also for his just and friendly conduct afterward to prevent the government authorities from violating the terms of military convention which he had made then and which the South had accepted.”

Grant was visibly pleased, and on his pad he wrote the reply:

“I have witnessed since my sickness just what I have wished to see since the war: harmony and good feeling between the sections...”

The visit soon ended. Julia Grant and Delia Buckner collected the slips of paper Grant had written on, and Mrs. Grant allowed Mrs. Buckner to keep most of them. At first Buckner was loathe to release any part of the conversation to the press, but afterward he would relinquish some of it, that which pertained to the war, and kept the rest to himself. He said that beyond what he shared with the press “there was nothing whatever in the interview that is of interest to anybody except General Grant and myself.” [7]

The Buckner's returned to Kentucky, only to return to New York in a couple of weeks. General Grant Died July 23, 1885 and General Simon Bolivar Buckner would serve as one of his pallbearers.

In the end the friendship between Grant and Buckner was strained by the war, but it endured. The two would never face each other squarely on the battlefield after the fall of Fort Donelson or for that matter even meet again until the summer of Grants death, although Buckner had been in Washington “50 times while Grant was president” he felt no urge to call on him. “It was a sense of modesty and a desire to avoid notoriety and 

misinterpretation that kept him from seeing Grant in his exalted position.” Delia Buckner believed. [8]

Such a pity.

The Picket

Sources

1) The Partizan Rangers of the Confederate States Army, Johnson, Adam R., 1904 page 67
2) The Orphan Brigade, Davis, William C., 1980. page 70
3) Simon Bolivar Buckner: Borderland Knight, Stickles, Arndt M., 1940, page 13
4) Ibid, page 37
5) Ibid, page 296
6) Ibid, page 324
7) Ibid, pages 325-329
8) Ibid,page 324

Photos from Wikimedia Commons

Charles B. Johnson: What He Saw

Charles Beneulyn Johnson saw a lot while serving in the medical department of the 130^th Illinois Volunteer Infantry. Some of what he saw he describes in his books written long after the US Civil War. Writing during a time of medical advancement, he relates instances that fall under the “If we had only known” heading. Dirty medical instruments, poor sanitation of camps, bad food, bad water and of course enemy missiles, led to the deaths of thousands of soldiers, Union and Confederate. The following are but two episodes he describes in the book “Muskets and Medicine”.

This can be filed under the “Boys will be boys” heading. Early during the Siege of Vicksburg, a young Ohio soldier seeking to alleviate the boredom he and his regiment was enduring while waiting to advance, found some loose powder. “He ran it along in a little trail, covered this with dust, and tried to fire it. As it did not ignite, he was stooping over with his face close to the ground when the charge took fire. His face was badly burned, and later was attacked with erysipelas, from which death resulted.” [1] Erysipelas is a condition caused by bacteria and attacks the outer layer of skin and presents itself as reddening of the skin around a wound and it may enter the system from something as minor as an insect bite and the more damaged the area the greater the likelihood of infection. [2] The area around Vicksburg would have been a fine place indeed to have this condition develop.

Also at Vicksburg, on May 22, the captain of company F, 130TH Illinois, William M. Colby, was mortally wounded. A bullet had entered his brain, and he arrived at the field hospital in a coma. “The first thing our surgeon did was to run his index finger its full length into the wound; and this without even ordinary hand washing. Next he introduced a dirty bullet probe.” [3] Colby died a few days later. Johnson does not fault the surgeon, for as he says, “These facts are narrated to show the frightful handicap Civil War surgery was under from a lack of knowledge of asepsis and antisepsis...” and it was no reflection on the surgeon or his skill. He was doing the best he could with what he had and what he knew.

Yes, Johnson saw a lot during his three years service, and although he would not be wounded by bullets he was felled by chronic dysentery, a malady that would follow him for the rest of his life.

It was the lot that fell to the soldiers of both sides. Bad water, bad food, bad sanitation, and bad medical practices took the greatest toll on their lives. Some would survive all of this and the bloody battlefield, but none would ever completely heal.

Sources

1. Muskets and Medicine, or Army Life in the Sixties, Johnson, Charles Beneulyn, 1917, Page 105
2. Erysipelas, Davis, Loretta MD, January 11, 2010 Medscape Reference, Retrieved from http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/1052445-overview retrieved April 23, 2012
3. Johnson, page 132