And The Bands played On -A New Year’s Eve Story

It was cold and cloudy, with scant moonlight. The Union soldiers huddled by small campfires. Just over one hundred yards away, Confederate soldiers also struggled to keep warm. Nearly 100,000 American boys were about to engage in one of the great battles of the Civil War just outside Murfreesboro, Tennessee. It was the evening of December 30, 1862.

 Scattered among the troops on both sides were several small military bands, which were a part of almost all Army regiments during the Civil War. The drum beats and martial music were intended to help drive the common soldiers toward a rendezvous with destruction, pain and, possibly death, that they might otherwise have sought to avoid. The music was usually loud, stirring, gallant, and inspirational; and the drum beats set the cadence for the soldiers’ pace toward battle. The music helped instill pride and motivation that might drive the soldiers to “do their duty” with courage and honor.

 But occasionally, the bands played other types of music; especially during lulls in battle. The night before New Year’s Eve, in the rolling hills of Tennessee, was one of those nights when the bands, from both sides, were the only forces in opposition. Except for armed pickets guarding each sides perimeter, the soldiers had laid down their arms; rifles were stacked, artillery pieces were empty, pistol belts were loosened, and swords were in their scabbards. The noises of war were now silent, at least for the night. The two sides were so close that the men had been able to hear conversations from the enemy camps; and, not long after darkness fell, one could hear music as the musicians from several regimental bands began to play.

 At first it was a cacophony of different tunes and voices singing a variety of songs; but then it became silent again. For a few moments.

 It is lost in history as to which band started the competition, but most accounts give the nod to the Union musicians. One band began to play the popular Northern song, Hail Columbia. Then, as the band finished that song, the Confederate band struck up Dixie and the competition was on. The Union side played and sang, Yankee Doodle Dandy, a song that predated the Revolutionary War and, until the Civil War, was sung by Northerner and Southerner alike; but now acceptable only in the North. Then the Confederate band began to play My old Kentucky Home, a Stephen Foster tune, and a Southern anthem.

 Then, there was a lull in the music. After a few minutes, the Union band began to play a familiar tune. The song was originally part of a short opera, which was never very popular as an entire work; however, this one song had become a sentimental favorite throughout the United States, both North and South. (Some erroneously credit Stephen Foster, a prolific songwriter on the era, as the composer, but he was not). The song was about home! As the Union band sounded out the introduction, the Confederate band instantly recognized the tune and joined in; and, the music began to transcend the differences war can bring, if only for a few minutes. The soldiers, who would again soon be enemies, began to sing the same song, at the same time.

 Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there

Which seek thro’ the world, is ne’er met elsewhere

Home! Home!

Sweet, sweet home!

There’s no place like home

There’s no place like home!

An exile from home splendor dazzles in vain

Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again

The birds singing gaily that came to my call

And gave me the peace of mind dearer than all.

Home, home, sweet, sweet home.

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home!

 The boys started to sing the song again and the two bands played it again; however, the second time was a little softer and slower than the first round. Then, even quieter for a third time as the music and the words wafted over the open ground between the two sides. When the song finally ended, all was silent for the rest of the evening. Letters have survived, written by those who participated, and, whether the soldier was Union or Confederate, younger or older, enlisted or officer, they tell similar stories. One wrote, “It was the most lonely I had felt in the year since I left home.”  Another shared, “For a short time, I thought of our house, and you, and the children, warmly, without intrusion of war.” And from a seventeen year old boy to his mother, “I remember my thoughts were of you and my sisters and I longed to be home.”  

 General Braxton Bragg, who led the Confederate troops at Murfreesboro, told his staff to ban the song, fearing it would take the edge off the fighting men. 

 It did not!

 On December 31, 1862, New Year’s Eve, many of the boys who had been singing of home, in a strange mixed chorus, only a few hours before, began to die on that open ground which had separated the two sides.

 The peaceful interlude had ended.

Christmas With Abraham Lincoln

About the time Abraham Lincoln and his wife, Mary Todd, started their family, two literary events began to shape the manner in which Americans celebrated Christmas. First, a poem titled “A Visit From St. Nicholas” had been circulating anonymously for several years, but in 1837, the famous writer/poet Clement Moore admitted he was the author and the poem, under the new title of “T’was the Night before Christmas” exploded into American homes.  Then, a novella, by Englishman Charles Dickens, began to affect holiday traditions in England and America. The book was originally titled “A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas” which conveyed Mr. Dickens’ wish that reading it would become as traditional as singing a rhyming Christmas carol. After all, he wrote it specifically to make a profit by selling copies over future years. Of course, it did not take long before the public just called it “A Christmas Carol.”

 But, like most of us, Lincoln’s earlier experiences in his childhood also had an impact on his Christmas traditions as an adult. As a child and as a young man, he had lived in Kentucky, Indiana, and Illinois, an area which was still considered the “frontier,” and would be until the great western migration after the Civil War. Conditions there, for most families, were simple, often harsh, and there was neither the money nor the time for frivolous traditions. By the time Abraham Lincoln and Mary were married, there were some old traditions already in place in the more western parts of the United States; such as religious services, special meals with family, and possibly a string of evergreen boughs over a door and/or hearth. It is reasonable to expect, but we do not know for certain, that by the 1840s, the Lincoln family was exposed to Mr. Moore’s poem and/or Dickens’ book, and over time, they would have accepted some of the evolving Christmas practices. While there were as yet no pre-printed Christmas cards, written holiday sentiment was often expressed in the form of personal notes to close friends and family. Stockings may have been “Hung by the Chimney with care in the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there,” but gift giving, if any, was usually only for children (and, except for something in the stocking, not likely from St. Nicholas). We do know that Abraham and Mary loved their children and we can presume that the Christmas holidays were a special time for their family. Certainly, before he became President in 1861, the previous Christmas holidays in the Lincoln home were happier.  Lincoln enjoyed holiday activities with his family and he relished sharing time with friends. He was a popular lawyer and politician, and he and Mary participated in various social functions, during the Christmas period, in their home and at the homes of friends and political acquaintances. All in all, Christmas, at the Lincoln Springfield home, was quite normal for that period, and in that place.

During the Christmas holiday in 1860, the family was still living in Springfield. A month earlier, in November, Lincoln had won the national election to become the sixteenth President of the United States, but would not be inaugurated until the following March. Civil War was being discussed and South Carolina had already declared secession from the Union, with several other Southern states expected to follow; however, there was still hope that war could somehow be avoided. The Lincolns held a Christmas Eve reception in their home and many of their acquaintances stopped by, including one of Lincoln’s oldest friends and confidants, Congressman Edward Baker, who Lincoln had asked to introduce him at the coming Inauguration ceremony.  Then, the following March, Abraham Lincoln became the President of the United States; and about one month later, the Civil War, which he dreaded so much, began.

 And, his Christmases would never again be the same.

 Historians have dissected every aspect of Abraham Lincoln’s life looking for reasons for certain of his behaviors; and many have opined about his seemingly austere Christmases as President. Some suggest that Lincoln was concerned with his public image and did not want to appear involved in trivial activities in the midst of a brutal war. Others have written that he rejected most religious rituals and always lacked interest in Christmas. Another wrote, in an over-reach, that his “melancholy or depression” peaked at the holidays. There are even critics who claim that he used work as an excuse to get away from his difficult wife. These are actually unfair characterizations of the man, disguised as historical explanations. It is true that, during the Civil War, there was no tree in the White House, no special engraved cards, few gifts, and, the President worked all day on Christmas; however, the reasons for his Christmas schedules and habits when he was President are not very complicated and, I believe, easy to understand and explain.

 Foremost, during his four years as Commander-in-Chief, Abraham Lincoln wore the heavy duty of Presidential responsibility like a leaden cloak; it enveloped him and he could only rarely take it off. However, this was self-imposed, not due to any concerns about perceptions by his critics.  To him, there was a destructive war tearing the country apart, young men were dying, and there were daily decisions to be made; and, ultimately, he was the one in charge.

 However, there were also practical reasons that the Lincoln White House did not have a tree, and that the Lincolns did not send cards or give many gifts for Christmas.

 First, the placement of large Christmas trees in homes and public places was not a universal custom in the United States during the mid-1800s; more likely found in the northeastern regions and in settlements with a significant German or Scandinavian presence. Even if an ever-green tree had been desired by Lincoln, or any of his Presidential predecessors, it would not have lasted very long. The White House was more open to the public (and relatively unguarded) in those days and White House “visitors” were already notorious for cutting snips from curtains and carpets and stealing any small trinkets; therefore, a large decorated Christmas tree in the White House would have likely been a target for the scavengers. Further, sending and receiving formal Christmas cards was not yet a wide-spread practice, and gift giving was more selective than today, even among family and close friends.  

 But a Civil War had started in April, 1861, and raged on!

 December 25, 1861, was the Lincoln family’s first Christmas in the White House and since that last Christmas in Illinois, war had indeed struck the country. Tragically, his close friend, Edward Baker, who had introduced Lincoln at the Inauguration event, had been killed in battle. Also lost was Lieutenant Elmer Ellsworth, a young family friend, who had become one of the first to die in the war. And, these were just two of the many casualties on Lincoln’s mind that December. So, it was a solemn White House, even with his two young boys, Willy and Tad, who ran through the halls, and engaged in other rambunctiousness; and who probably longed for a happier day. Robert, the oldest son, had been away at college, but returned for a few days around Christmas. Further, social activities, which were so important to both Abraham and Mary back in Springfield, were almost non-existent for them in Washington; since Mrs. Lincoln did not have many friends in the Capital. Essentially, both she and her husband were considered outsiders by the long-entrenched congressional leaders, judges, and career bureaucrats who were the established Washington elite.  And their exclusion from the established societal circles would never end.

 And the War raged on for another year.

 December 25, 1862, was the second Christmas the Lincoln family spent in the White House, but that year may have been the saddest of all. Their youngest son, Willy, had died in February and Mrs. Lincoln could not seem to recover. Further, the war had become a stagnated mess of death and destruction, with some Union victories, but with a devastating defeat, just before Christmas, at Fredericksburg, Virginia, only about fifty miles from Washington DC (and the White House). Three months earlier, Lincoln had announced the Emancipation Proclamation to be effective January first, 1863, and the public was split on the unilateral move the President had made. If there had been a presidential poll back then, his approval rating would have been very low. On Christmas afternoon, after a morning cabinet meeting, the President and Mrs. Lincoln visited wounded soldiers at several Washington hospitals. We can only imagine that it was a lonely Christmas for young Tad.

 And the War raged on!

 December 25, 1863, was their third Christmas in the White House. Mrs. Lincoln was again receiving visitors, Tad had found some new friends, and Robert visited from Harvard; however, the President was still subdued. Although the war news was better, with several major victories for the Union armies, including at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, casualties continued to mount and the President still worked through the day. Back in September, Lincoln’s brother-in-law, Benjamin Helm, a Confederate General, was killed in battle; a personal loss since Abraham and Mary were close with Benjamin and his wife, Mary’s sister Emilie. Lincoln even invited Emilie to stay with them in the White House for a while so that the two sisters could comfort each other; and he granted Emilie a pass so that she could cross Union lines into Washington. His gesture of true familial grief resulted in scathing political attacks of  “giving comfort to the enemy” from some in Congress and newspaper editors. However, Lincoln simply replied that he and Mrs. Lincoln would choose their guests; and he otherwise ignored the criticism.

 But the War raged on!

December 25, 1864, was their fourth Christmas in the Presidential mansion and the mood was different. President Lincoln knew that the war would not last much longer, the Confederacy would be defeated, the Union would be preserved, and slavery would soon be outlawed. (The Senate had already passed the 13th Amendment to the Constitution, which would make slavery illegal, and he was prepared to press the House of Representatives on the issue.) Also, he had just been re-elected to a second four-year term by a wide margin of both voters and the Electoral College. He even received a welcome telegram from General William Tecumseh Sherman, announcing that Savannah, Georgia was now in Union hands, it read, “Mr. President, I beg to present you, as a Christmas gift, the city of Savannah.” Robert came home from Harvard, but worried his mother because he wanted to join the Army. (Lincoln would soon arrange a non-combat role for Robert on General Ulysses Grant’s staff). Tad, the President’s young son, who still lived in the White House, invited a group of newsboys, who sold papers around the area, to follow him home for dinner; without telling his parents. He knew his father would not mind, but he must have been at least a little concerned about his mother’s reaction; as she could be difficult at times. However, it appears that Mary Lincoln handled Tad’s surprise without drama.  Over the holidays, President and Mrs. Lincoln held several receptions for Union military leaders, politicians, and foreign emissaries. With that in mind, 1864 was probably the closest to a “normal” Christmas in the Lincoln White House.

 The war would rage on for another five months; and, unfortunately, 1864 would prove to be Abraham Lincoln’s last Christmas. The President was assassinated less than four months later. He was only fifty-six years old!

 For most of his life, however, Abraham Lincoln had enjoyed traditional Christmas customs, as they were practiced at that time, back home in Springfield, with family and friends. But for four years in the White House, with the circumstances he faced, it seems understandable that he could not fully enjoy the special holiday season. Although, I like to think this good man, and dutiful President, tried to keep the Christmas spirit for those four years, as best he could; despite the enormous problems he faced.

 Shouldn’t we be able to do so as well?

 Post-script:

Had he lived; I believe that Abraham Lincoln would have had more joyful Christmases in the White House over the next four years; primarily because the Civil War had ended. The nation would have benefited from his leadership during those coming years as he would have welcomed the former Confederate states back into the Union, and would have fought against the harsh re-construction laws imposed on the South by Congress. Further, he would have guided the country through the first few years of emancipation which, I believe, would have moderated the racial injustices which still affect us today. Then, in 1869, as a private citizen, he would have moved back to Springfield, practiced law with his partner, spent time with his friends and, in December, enjoyed Christmas with his family. But it was not to be.

 I wish for you and yours a peaceful holiday whatever your traditions. As for me and my family, we look forward to a Merry Christmas and a less dramatic New Year.

Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Messages

In the Lincoln era, Thanksgiving Day meant just that. A day set aside when all Americans could give Thanks for the blessings of life, liberty, the pursuit (but not a guarantee) of happiness, and the myriad of other experiences and gifts for which we should be grateful. It was intended to be a spiritual Thanksgiving, regardless of religious beliefs, race, creed and political differences. We may have lost a bit of that special reason for the occasion.

It is a historical fact that, on October 23, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln signed a proclamation declaring the final Thursday in November as a “Day of Thanksgiving” and our nation has continuously celebrated this special day, with just one change. Congress later moved the day to the fourth Thursday in November to avoid confusion in those infrequent years when there are five Thursdays in the month. We now had an official Thanksgiving Day!

But the story leading up to that declaration is more complicated and interesting. For example, that October 1863 proclamation was not Lincoln’s first, nor was Lincoln the first President to issue a proclamation of Thanksgiving in the United States. Even much earlier, Pilgrims in North America declared a Day of Thanksgiving in 1621 to celebrate their first harvest and, by the early 1700s, individual colonies began declaring a Day of Thanksgiving for various reasons and at different times of the year.

On a national level, on October 3, 1789, President George Washington proclaimed a Thanksgiving Day for Thursday, November 26.  However, since Washington was meticulously pragmatic and not prone to issue any type of religious or celebratory statements, he began with this disclaimer, “Both houses of Congress have requested me to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed.”

Thereafter, a few Presidents and the Governors of several states, periodically issued Thanksgiving Proclamations, however none designated a continuing November date.

During the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln issued four proclamations establishing special days for Prayer and/or Thanksgiving; in August 1861, in April and October 1863, and in October 1864. However, only the 1863 and 1864 proclamations attempted to establish a recurring Thanksgiving Day in November. The proclamations were actually collaborative efforts between Lincoln and William Seward, his Secretary of State, as the two had learned to respect and trust each other’s political instincts and writing skills. Seward was a devout Episcopalian and his passages tended to be more ecclesiastical and flourishing; while Lincoln, who was no less spiritual, tended to use simpler terms. Readers can usually discern which phrase was more likely Seward’s or Lincoln’s. 

Unfortunately, over time, some writers, especially in internet posts, have confused the various proclamations and presented erroneous text as “Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.” I have even seen some that include passages from his Gettysburg address and his Second Inaugural speech. These “modifications” may have been well-intended; however, it is important that we maintain a correct historical record of these proclamations or, over time, the false texts become the “new” history. For ease of identification, most scholars refer to the four proclamations as the 1861 Proclamation for Prayer, the April 1863 Proclamation for Prayer, the 1863 Thanksgiving Day Proclamation, and the 1864 Thanksgiving Day Proclamation. The following are only summaries, as the full texts are rather lengthy.

In August 1861, the awful realities were becoming evident that the Civil War would last longer and more people would die than anyone expected. Lincoln and Seward felt that the people might be comforted by a special day on which the nation as a whole would turn to their religious faith, in whatever forms that may take, to ask for guidance in restoring the forefathers’ vision for the United States. That 1861 Presidential proclamation read (in part):

“..And, whereas our own beloved country, once by the blessing of God, united, prosperous, and happy, is now afflicted with faction and Civil War, it is particularly fit for us to recognize the hand of God in this terrible visitation, and …. to humble ourselves and pray for His mercy….and that the inestimable boon of civil and religious liberty earned by the labors and sufferings of our forefathers, may be restored…” The Proclamation declared the last Thursday in September, 1861, as a day of humiliation, prayer, and fasting and urged “all ministers and teachers of religion of all denominations and the heads of all families to observe and keep that day according to their creeds and modes of worship.”

Not quite an official “Thanksgiving Day” but a good start!

By early 1863, Lincoln and Seward believed that the North would eventually defeat the Confederacy, but neither thought the War would end soon. In April, 1863, they decided to issue another proclamation of prayer; but still did not use the phrase “Thanksgiving” rather it set “April 30, 1863 as a day of national humiliation, fasting, and prayer.” It was signed by Lincoln and, in summary, it read as follows: “..We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven. ...But we have  vainly imagined….that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own (and) we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving Grace….And I do request that all the people abstain that day from their ordinary secular pursuits and to unite at their several places of public worship and in their respective homes, in keeping that day Holy…. Let us rest humbly in the hope (for) the restoration of our now divided and suffering country…”  This was a noble document, which set aside another day for national reflection, but it still did not establish a recurring Thanksgiving Day.

But Lincoln would soon have to deal with a determined woman named Sarah Buell Hale!  She was a well-known editor of the popular “The Ladies Magazine”, a novelist, and a poet, who wrote Mary had a Little Lamb. For over thirty years, she used her public persona to lobby individual states and Congress to declare a national Thanksgiving Day and, by 1860, thirty-one states had done so; however, she had no success with Congress or with the four Presidents who preceded Lincoln.  She and her readers continued to “encourage” (her word) and “pester” (one recipient’s word) national politicians to establish a specific day for Thanksgiving.  Then, in the midst of Civil War, Mrs. Hale wrote to President Lincoln suggesting that he declare a designated day “for all Americans to put aside sectional feelings and local incidents” and “to be thankful for the blessings of life, not of war.”  President Lincoln asked Secretary Seward to draft such a Presidential Proclamation, to which Lincoln only made a few changes; and, for the first time, a fixed date of the last Thursday in November for the national observance was established. 

The document, simply titled, Proclamation, was signed by Lincoln on October 3, 1863 and read (in part): “…the year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies…bounties which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come. In the midst of Civil War of unequaled magnitude and severity, peace has been preserved with all (other) nations, laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has been preserved except in the theater of military conflict; while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union.” Lincoln and Seward went on to describe the wealth that was building in the north from farming, mining, and transportation, and advances in bringing in new states from western territories; while still keeping up an aggressive war effort against the Confederacy. (That last portion was decried by Southern politicians and newspaper editors). But then Lincoln and Seward returned to the basic theme of gratitude and Thanksgiving. “No human counsel hath devised, nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. It seems fit and proper that they should solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledge as with one heart and one voice by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens to…observe the last Thursday in November as a Day of Thanksgiving and Praise… And I recommend to them that they do so with humble penitence…and commend to His tender care those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and implore the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and restore it ….to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and Union.” Note that the phrase “A Day of Thanksgiving” was specifically included!

Not every American, however, was pleased with the proclamation. While the October 1863 Proclamation was widely reported in Southern newspapers, rather than inspire people as it had in the North, it offended many in the South by its references to successful military campaigns against the Confederacy and restoration of the Union.

A year later, on October 20, 1864, President Lincoln issued his second actual Thanksgiving Day proclamation, again declaring the last Thursday of November for the special Day. As before, Lincoln and Secretary Seward collaborated to issue a memorable document, again titled simply Proclamation which read (in part): “It has pleased Almighty God to prolong our national life another year,…(to grant) many and signal victories over the enemy who is of our own household…He has augmented our free population by emancipation and by immigration, while he has opened new sources of wealth and has crowned the labor of our workingmen….. He has been pleased to inspire our minds and hearts with fortitude, courage, and resolution sufficient for the great trial of Civil War into which we have been brought by our adherence as a nation to the cause of freedom and humanity …Therefore I set apart the last Thursday in November as a day …of Thanksgiving and praise, for a return of the inestimable blessings of peace, union, and harmony throughout the land.”  Again, it was to be “a Day of Thanksgiving.”

However, because of an assassin’s bullet a few months later, this became President Lincoln’s last Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.

Sarah Hale lived to see her vision become a treasured special day “to be thankful for the blessings of life.”  And, as she, Lincoln, and Seward hoped, it is observed across all lines that, on other matters, may divide us; such as geography, ethnicity, religion, and politics.

Since every one of Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Proclamations spoke of unity and harmony within our country, I wonder what he would think of us now? Hopefully, in a year of serious political divisions, we will try to honor that message as we celebrate this special holiday.

I hope you have a wonderful, and reflective, Thanksgiving Day.  

The General vs. The Husband (Article #97)

The Confederate General cut a dashing figure, and he knew it; and his wife was many miles away. The husband was a Doctor and legislator in Tennessee, had earlier married his fourth wife, and he frequently travelled as part of his legislative duties. The Doctor’s new wife was beautiful and was twenty-five years younger than her husband. They were all living in the same small town.

 What could go wrong?

 Earl Van Dorn, was born in 1820 in Mississippi, and his mother was a niece of President Andrew Jackson. When Earl was eighteen, Jackson arranged an appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point. After his graduation in 1842, and commission as a Second Lieutenant, he held various positions in units of the U.S. Army in the Southern states. He married in 1843 and he and his wife had two children. During the War with Mexico in 1847-48, he served honorably, was twice wounded in action, and received several battlefield promotions. He later served in Indian Territory and was wounded four times in different skirmishes; sometimes by gunshots and other times by arrows. However, the last injuries seriously damaged internal organs and it was thought at the early stages that he might not survive. But he recovered, and went on to command units in the U.S. Army until he resigned his commission in January, 1861 when his home state of Mississippi seceded from the Union. He joined the Mississippi state militia and, when Jefferson Davis, then Commander of the militia, left to become President of the Confederate States of America, Earl Van Dorn became his replacement.

 But the new Confederate Army needed experienced officers so, in March, 1861, Van Dorn resigned from the state militia and accepted an appointment as a Colonel in the C.S.A. He led successful operations in Texas and was quickly promoted through the ranks to Major General by the fall of 1861. Jefferson Davis himself, then assigned General Van Dorn as Commander of the Trans-Mississippi District, considered to be a most difficult assignment because several lesser ranked Generals had staked out their own territories and refused to coordinate efforts. He quickly gained control of the situation and initiated an audacious plan. He would march through Arkansas, into Missouri, and capture St. Louis. He wrote to his wife, “I am now in for it, to make a reputation and serve my country conspicuously or fail. I must not, shall not, do the latter. I must have St. Louis – Huzza!”

 However, despite having a larger force in the area than the Union Commander, he failed to reach St. Louis! He was defeated at Pea Ridge, in Arkansas; but he was not dismayed. In his report to the Confederate Congress, General Van Dorn wrote, “I was not defeated, but only foiled in my intentions.” (Huh?)

 Soon Van Dorn suffered another defeat at Corinth, Mississippi, and Jefferson Davis had seen enough. He was, in effect demoted, but General Van Dorn was eager to regain his honor. Meanwhile, a Union General, Ulysses Grant, was having great success against Confederate forces in Tennessee. In his new position as a Cavalry Commander, Van Dorn decided that an attack on General Grant’s forces at Holly Springs could be an effective use of his units and a victory would rebuild his tarnished reputation. In a way, he succeeded at both goals, but he only partly restored his reputation. Among most senior Confederate officers, Van Dorn was respected as a good Cavalry tactician, but was no longer considered for major strategic positions, commanding mixed infantry, artillery, and cavalry forces. And, at least one other Confederate General, did not believe he was capable of even leading Cavalry. Nathan Bedford Forrest, one of the more outspoken Confederate Generals, publicly stated his reservations about Van Dorn’s judgement and was challenged by Van Dorn to a duel. Such a fracture among generals would have forced others to take sides, but cooler heads prevailed; and the duel was called off.

 In the first two years of the war, Van Dorn was only able to visit his home, wife and children in Mississippi on a few occasions. He had moved his headquarters to Spring Hill, Tennessee in March 1863 and found himself with time on his hands. His reputation as a “flatterer of women” was well known by this time, as he had usually made the acquaintance of Southern Belles wherever he was quartered. One contemporary called him, “The terror of ugly husbands.” In Spring hill, he was introduced to Jesse Kissack Peters, who was the fourth and (much) younger wife of a local physician and state legislator.  The good Doctor was away much of the time and General Van Dorn and Jesse began to be seen by neighbors in the area taking carriage rides together; and even having unsupervised visits to her home.

 Tongues began to wag!

 On April 12, Doctor Peters returned to Spring Hill and within hours (maybe minutes) was made aware of the situation between the General and his wife. Peters declared that he would kill Van Dorn and any of the General’s staff who he found on his land. One would expect that word would have gotten to both the General and the Doctor’s wife very quickly, but if they were aware, they disregarded the danger. That evening, while Dr. Peters was at a political meeting, the two met in her house and the Doctor barged in to find them in a somewhat compromising situation. The angry Doctor pointed a gun at the two and may have said a few choice words! The General evidently begged for Dr. Peters to spare Jesse and to not hold her responsible for her acquiescence in his pursuit of her; which seems to imply that Van Dorn considered his advances toward women to be irresistible! But, in any case, the Doctor backed down and allowed the General to leave.

 We do not know what went on in the Doctor’s home over next three weeks but, on May 7, 1863, Dr. Peters visited the home where General Van Dorn had his headquarters. The Doctor was familiar to the sentries and the General’s staff because he often had sought passes to leave town for official business; so, he was allowed to enter Van Dorn’s office. The General was writing at his desk as Doctor Peters walked up behind him and Van Dorn did not even look over his shoulder.

 He should have!

 Dr. Peters took out a small pistol and shot the General in the head. Peters was arrested, but never brought to trial as his lawyer argued that “Van Dorn had violated the sanctity of his home - a situation no man could leave unanswered.”

 Earl Van Dorn had survived wounds from Mexican soldiers and even arrows from Indian warriors; but he could not survive an attack from a jealous husband!

 Post script: As the Northern forces advanced through Tennessee and eventually throughout the south, a new twist in the episode became the subject of speculation; which is still repeated today. Some believe Dr. Peters and Jesse were conspirators with the Union and actually lured Van Dorn into what was a political/military assassination. Two facts lend some credence to that theory; (1) Dr. Peters did sign a loyalty oath to the Union and (2) he and his wife reconciled after Van Dorn’s death. On the other hand, I believe that it was jealousy, not politics, that motivated Dr. Peters, because there were more important Confederate generals that he could have eliminated; if that was his mission.

 But who knows for sure?

Lincoln on Tolerance and Reconciliation (Special Election Edition)

“Though passion may have strained, it must not break, our bonds of affection.” – Abraham Lincoln in his first Inaugural Address.

I published versions of this article in 2016 and 2018, and now think this updated version may be even more meaningful as we approach the 2020 election. I am worried! I believe the ability to widely disseminate inflammatory and insulting messages on the internet (or on TV) has emboldened some antagonists to be more vicious and has exacerbated conflicts. Cartoonish memes and sound-bites are not constructive dialogue and deepen resentments and divisions; without changing anyone’s mind. Of great concern to me is that some people, from both sides, have questioned someone’s patriotism, ethics, and even their religious faith based solely on their political preference.  Of course, we all see the rancor and divisiveness among our congressional and other political leaders; and both sides are equally to blame.  The vitriolic rhetoric is deafening and I fear that, after this election, those on the fringes of our two political parties will turn to violence no matter what the outcome. Remember, this has happened before in our nation!

 I believe Abraham Lincoln gave us guidance which may provide a starting point for our own reconciliation and healing.

 While the political campaigns in our time have been rough, at least until recently I thought that the campaign rhetoric in the 19th century was even worse. (I am not so sure now!) In his day, Abraham Lincoln was a target of some of the most vile and untrue charges ever aimed at any candidate. To his credit, he rarely responded to such attacks, but when he did, his comments were concise, reasonable, and sometimes humorous. While there was no mass electronic media in the 1800s, newspapers were prevalent and almost always partisan, promoting one candidate and one ideology over others and eviscerating opponents and different political philosophies. Most publishers considered politicians free game in editorials, in articles, and especially in political cartoons.

 Back then, truth was not a journalistic objective as partisanship reigned; and I fear today, in some cases, journalism has returned to that less-than-noble standard.

 In March 1861, Lincoln began his Presidency with his country literally torn apart. The South’s largest newspaper, in Richmond, Virginia, editorialized; “...whether the Potomac is crimson in human gore and Pennsylvania Avenue is paved ten fathoms deep with mangled bodies, the South will never submit to such humiliation and degradation as the Inauguration of Abraham Lincoln.”

Over the preceding decade, a war of words had become a war of secession, but then, in 1861, the unchecked words led to actual Civil War and massive death and destruction.

 Throughout his political career, Lincoln tried to remain above personal enmity and he consistently demonstrated graciousness in defeat and magnanimity in victory. Lincoln’s willingness to try to reconcile political differences, however, began much earlier. For example, in 1838, when he was twenty-nine and an Illinois legislator, he implored several angry colleagues to settle their differences through compromise and said, “There is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law.”

 In 1854 and 1858, Lincoln campaigned to become a U.S. Senator, but he was unsuccessful both times! The day after his defeats, he simply went back to work at his law office and his partner, William Herndon, remarked, “A person could not have known from Mr. Lincoln’s words or demeanor whether he had won or lost.”  But the losses did not keep Lincoln from pressing his ideas for political change; he just maintained a civil dialogue while doing so, and began to build a constituency. It paid off in 1860!

 After he won the election for President in November 1860, Lincoln began to select men to serve in his Cabinet. He put aside the rhetoric of the campaign and offered positions to all three of his Republican opponents for the nomination and also included Democrats in several critical offices. He said, “I am determined to seek the best men for the country, not the best men for Lincoln.”

 On March 4, 1861, Lincoln gave his First Inaugural Address, only two weeks after Jefferson Davis was sworn in as President of the Confederate States of America. In this conflicted setting, Lincoln spoke directly to the people of the South when he said; “I am loathe to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Those passions may have strained, but must not break, our bonds of affection.” However, his pleas went unanswered and, five weeks later, the Confederates fired on Fort Sumter beginning a four-year Civil War.

 With members of his wife’s family serving on both sides of the War between the States, Lincoln did not hold personal animosity toward those who chose the different path. During the Civil War, on several occasions, Lincoln visited the Washington hospitals which cared for Confederate prisoners. In one famous exchange while visiting wounded Confederate officers, Lincoln said; “If I were to tell you who I am, would any of you shake my hand? I am Abraham Lincoln.” A nearby Confederate officer replied; “Would you shake my hand if you knew I was a Confederate Colonel who has fought against you for four years?” Lincoln replied; “Well, I hope a Confederate Colonel will not refuse me his hand.” The two men shook hands and several others, but certainly not all, also came forward to greet Mr. Lincoln.

 By the time of the Second Inaugural in March 1865, it was clear to most reasonable observers that the war would end soon and the Confederacy would be vanquished. Lincoln directed most of his remarks at that Inauguration to tolerance, reconciliation, and re-union. He urged the citizens of the North to, “be sympathetic to our friends in the South … Let us judge not, that we not be judged.” And he concluded, “With malice toward none, with charity for all ... let us bind up the nation’s wounds,….to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves.”

 To assure that his wishes for generous peace terms for Confederate soldiers and officers were carried out by his military commanders, Lincoln directed, “Let them once surrender and reach their homes…Let them go, officers and all, I want no more bloodshed. I want no one punished; treat them liberally all around.  Just let the boys go home.”

 In the late evening of April 11th,1865, in a short speech from a White House window, Lincoln addressed the surrender of Robert E. Lee’s Confederate army.  He said, “Let us welcome the Southern states, back into the fold, without divisive argument over their behaviors…” And, he urged the crowd to “embrace our former rivals.”

 Then, at his last Cabinet meeting on the day of his assassination, Lincoln said: “Indeed I hope there will be no persecutions, no bloody work after this war is over. None should expect that I will participate in hanging or killing of these men, even the worst of them. Enough lives have been sacrificed. We must extinguish our resentments if we expect harmony and Union.”  He was referring to people who had sought to destroy the Union and led to a war that cost nearly a million lives. However, forgiveness and reconciliation were still foremost in his mind.

 We live in a wonderful Constitutional Republic. The Founders left us with a pure democratic popular vote process for most local, state, and congressional elections, and an Electoral Process for the selection of our Presidents. We should all vote as our conscience dictates and accept that others will do the same.  

 However, I expect that these next few weeks will be tumultuous, no matter what the election results bring. I sincerely hope that we all can moderate hostile rhetoric and try to reconcile with family and friends. We should not allow political differences to “break our bonds of affection.”  Who knows, maybe we can even be somewhat Lincolnesque and “extinguish our resentments.”

Husband and Wife Warriors (Article 96)

William McKesson Blalock (known by everyone as Keith) married Sarah Malinda Pritchard (known by everyone as Malinda) in April 1861, in the Presbyterian Church at Coffey’s Gap, North Carolina. Keith was 23 and Malinda was 19, actually a little late in life for marriage in that time and place; but they had known each other since childhood. Some, however, may have been surprised at the match because, over the years, the Blalocks and Pritchards had quarreled over land boundaries, and a myriad of other petty issues, and the disputes occasionally broke into outright violence. Several men had been killed over the generations, but no individual was ever charged in the murders. In the North Carolina mountains, justice was served individually, by those affected. Keith’s father may have been murdered, but all we know for sure is that he went missing when Keith was only a child; and his remains were found a year later. However, after his father’s death, Keith’s mother married Austin Coffey, a neighbor whose family was familiar with both the Blalocks and the Pritchards, but had stayed out of their feuds.  It would appear that, at first, the Pritchard family accepted Malinda’s choice of a husband now that Keith was in the Coffey family.

A few days before the wedding, however, Confederate forces had fired on, and captured Fort Sumter and President Lincoln had issued a call for 75,000 volunteers to put down the Southern rebellion. The Confederacy called into action militia units from the states which had seceded to fend off any Yankee invasion of the South. Therefore, unfortunately for Keith and Malinda, the pending war dominated conversations at the wedding because the three families (Pritchards, Blalocks, and Coffeys) were divided over secession and the need for war! Keith and Malinda, however, hoped to stay out of the conflict and not have to choose a position. They just wanted a peaceful life together.

As it was, all of the Pritchards were ardent secessionists, while the Blalocks were generally Unionists, with a few cousins who supported the Confederacy. The Coffeys were divided on the issue, with Austin Coffey, Keith’s stepfather, a supporter of the Union; while Austin’s brother, William, was a vocal secessionist. At the wedding, a few of the Pritchards and William Coffey publicly prodded Keith to declare himself for the Confederacy, much to the consternation of Austin Coffey. Keith seemed ambivalent on the matter, but he was probably more of a Unionist, if only because he still hoped to avoid military service.

Keith and Malinda Pritchard Blalock

Malinda said later, “It was the beginning of our great adventure!”

The wedding was a large event in the region, with over 100 guests, and the “shindig” covered two days. It can be assumed there was sufficient amounts of alcohol (moonshine, bottled whiskey, and even some well- made Scotch; after all, many of the attendees were Scottish Presbyterians). The discussions among the men began to turn into arguments, and the arguments turned into threats; and eventually, a few punches were thrown.

The wedding did not end well!

The North Carolina militia units were decidedly pro-Confederate and began to seek, and accept, more volunteers to swell their ranks. Nearly 5,000 men were enlisted, but Keith Blalock was not among them. While the first recruits to join were certainly eager volunteers, the militia units began to pressure those who had not yet signed up. Keith’s step-uncle, William Coffey, made repeated attempts to persuade Keith to join the militia, each attempt becoming more menacing and threatening. We do not know if Austin Coffey tried to protect Keith, but in the end, Keith agreed to “volunteer” for service. But he had a plan to avoid fighting!

He believed his unit would be sent into Virginia to confront the Northern forces, and he planned to simply desert and return home. Most people at the time, incorrectly, expected any war to be short, no matter the outcome, so he thought he would be able to resume his civilian life.

But Keith did not know that Malinda had a plan of her own. After induction into a small infantry unit, Keith began to march to his assigned area, but not in Virginia as he anticipated; instead along the North Carolina border. A few days into their march, a new soldier joined the unit. As the new recruit approached Keith, he heard a familiar voice say, “I am going to fight with you.” Malinda had done as much as she could to look like a young man and enlisted under the name of Sam Blalock, Keith’s younger brother. In her uniform, she looked like any other 15- or 16-year-old new soldier. (The Southern recruiters were never very inquisitive about age, they just wanted to fill the ranks.)

Any war takes turns least expected and, during a skirmish with a Yankee patrol, Malinda was wounded in the shoulder. The doctor who treated her discovered she was a woman and notified the unit commander. In another irony of war, that commander had attended her wedding and knew her family. Although she could have faced more serious charges, he just rescinded her enlistment and sent her home. In the meantime, Keith has a predicament! He wanted to go with Malinda, but by now was too well known in the unit and would have been hunted down if he deserted.

Their solution was ingenious.

He found a growth of poison oak and rubbed it over parts of his body. He had seen the effect before as a youngster and as soon as the blisters and fever were evident, he told the camp doctor that he had helped a sick stranger who also had welts. As expected, the doctor assumed Keith had contracted smallpox and quickly arranged a medical discharge and sent him home. He joined Malinda on the road and the two, now discharged soldiers, treated Keith’s poison oak symptoms and headed home.

Some of the secessionists back home heard about the discharges, but also noted that Keith bore no ill effects from his bout with small pox. They reported their suspicions to the Home Guard and to conscription officers, groups specifically formed to root out deserters and force new enlistees; and the enforcers then went to find Keith. Whether someone tipped off Keith and Malinda, or they just expected such a visit, Keith slipped away into the dense forest and rugged hills. Malinda stayed behind and met with the searchers, but since her discharge was valid, and there was still a code of chivalry, there was no action taken against her. She was watched, however.

But Keith and Malinda continued to communicate and even see each other. They developed a set of complicated signs and signals, and had established places in the forest to meet. The families in that region all knew about Keith’s situation; some gave him shelter, while others reported any sightings to the Home Guard or to conscription officers. But for months, Keith avoided capture.

Part of the reason for Keith’s success was the ineffective leadership of the local enlistment/conscription groups. However, in late summer of 1862, a new commander was appointed. Major Harvey Bingham had been an exemplary soldier, who suffered several serious wounds, which limited his battle effectiveness; but his tactical abilities and commitment to his cause were intact. He planned to force every able-bodied man in his region into Confederate service, and to capture every deserter. And Keith Blalock was high on the Major’s list.

His methods were ruthless, but effective. If he considered a man able-bodied, Bingham asked him to enlist, but if that failed, the man was beaten. By then, most joined up, but the few who did not were shot and killed. If any man tried to escape, Bingham skipped the first two steps and executed the runaway.

Some of Bingham’s “recruits” told him where sightings of Keith Blalock had occurred and the net began to close in. In late August, 1862, a group of Bingham’s men located one of Keith’s hide-outs and surrounded the cabin. Major Bingham was not with them, but Keith’s step-uncle William Coffey was the leader. Keith offered to surrender if Malinda could go free and William Coffey, to his regret, agreed that Keith could wait to surrender until he was sure Malinda was away and safe. The guards fell asleep, some reports were that they were drunk, and Keith slipped away in the night, rejoined Malinda, and the two headed for another distant hide-out.

To this point, Keith and Malinda operated together, but without any other organized assistance. However, the hills were full of other deserters, and men who had fled rather than enlist, and Keith began to assemble a rag-tag group, who looked to him as their leader. He wrote later, “I saw the need for men we could trust and who could shoot.”

Once more Bingham’s men located Keith, but this time, Keith’s mountain sharp-shooters forced the enforcers to withdraw. Fortunately, no one on either side was killed.

But Keith and Malinda realized it was only a matter of time before Bingham again located them in North Carolina and the next time could prove deadly. So, they, along with a few of their men, made their way into Tennessee, contacted Union forces, and offered their services.

In June 1864, Keith agreed to lead a force of 25 men, on two distinct missions. First, to scout the mountains along the Tennessee-North Carolina border for Confederate guerilla units (some were called Partisans); which he would engage if possible or report back to Union forces if the enemy contingent was too large.  His second mission was to recruit Confederate deserters he encountered, with promises of good pay and steady rations; neither of which was available to Confederate soldiers. As an added bonus, Keith and his men were issued more modern and lethal weapons, including repeating rifles and rapid load pistols. Since Malinda joined them, it is likely she was also equipped with the better weapons.

And they head back into North Carolina.

Their missions did not specifically include attacks on the Home Guards or conscription officers, but they learned that Major Bingham’s forces had killed a neighbor who had tried to flee; therefore, revenge became an added mission.

They soon encountered a small group of Home Guards and killed three of the men, and in a second attack, they killed two more. Major Bingham retaliated by killing a local farmer who was a known Union sympathizer. It became a deadly back and forth routine. The Blalock group attacked the Home Guard and anyone who supported their “recruitment” efforts and Bingham would burn a farm and assault or even murder the farmer.  Even boys not yet old enough to enlist were shot or hanged by Home Guards.

One group of antagonists was, as yet, unaffected by the rampage. Austin Coffey had reached an agreement with his brother, William, that neither of them would permit an attack on the other’s property or family (which included Keith’s mother as Austin’s wife). But Keith was not a party to the agreement and said later that he would kill William, a leader of the Home Guard, if he had the chance.

Malinda had recovered from her earlier wounds and was an active participant in the attacks on the conscription enforcers, until she was again wounded badly enough to require the attention of a surgeon. She made her way back to Union lines where doctors successfully repaired the damage to her arm; however, Malinda discovered she was pregnant. So, her fighting days were over and she convalesced in Tennessee, hoping for her husband’s safe return.

Meanwhile, Keith and his men continued to hunt and kill members of the Home Guard. Keith wrote later, “We all tried to do to them before they did to us.”

In January 1865, Keith and his men captured his step-uncle William Coffey and, at some point, one of Keith’s men executed William. While there is no proof that Keith directed the execution, neither did he ever deny giving the order.

The skirmishes continued, the death toll mounted on both sides, and later in January 1865, Keith was seriously wounded; he lost an eye and his jaw was shattered. However, he survived to fight again.

But the Home Guard was also busy. In February 1865, they captured Austin Coffey and tied him to a tree. Keith’s mother, Austin’s wife, escaped into the nearby woods and watched as events unfolded. Suddenly, without warning, one of the Home Guard officers walked over to Austin and shot him dead! Keith soon learned that his step-father had been murdered and vowed revenge saying he would kill the men responsible, “If it took 40 years after the war to do so.”

On April 26, 1865, with Abraham Lincoln’s assassination ten days earlier and the surrender of the Confederacy’s largest army, the war in North Carolina was essentially over. But not for Keith Blalock. Although he received a discharge, he had made a vow to kill the men involved in Austin Coffey’s death. In February 1866, nine months after the war ended, Keith cornered the man who he held most responsible for his step-father’s murder, and shot and killed him! It had not taken forty years. Keith was briefly arrested for the crime, but no trial was ever held, and he was quickly granted a full pardon by the new Republican Governor.

Malinda and Keith began a new life after four years of turmoil during the war. They had four children and both lived to see their children grown and grandchildren hustling about their home. Some of the old feuds still surfaced from time to time, but there was generally peace in the valley.

Malinda and Keith Blalock had earned their more tranquil life.

Surviving Vicksburg (Article 95)

From March until May 1863, Union General Ulysses S. Grant had tried numerous tactics to dislodge the over 30,000 Confederate forces from the area around Vicksburg, Mississippi. The town above the strategic port on the Mississippi River was built high on a bluff and commanded a long view of the great river. From that vantage point, Confederate gunners determined which ships passed safely and which would come under intense fire.  Since the river meandered in that area, and did not just run in a straight North-South line past Vicksburg, any vessel had to slowly navigate the bends which made the Confederate gunners very effective. If the Union could take Vicksburg, the flow of supplies to Confederate armies would be hampered and the entire Mississippi River from New Orleans to Illinois would be under Northern control. Despite General Grant’s attacks from different angles, often coordinated with fire from Union Navy vessels on the Mississippi, nothing seemed to work! Every land assault had failed, and too many Union soldiers were wounded and dead, without any significant advantage gained. Although the Union forces had gradually compressed the Confederate lines inward to the city, there was no breakthrough.  Over time, the Confederate soldiers consolidated into the small town itself and in defensive positions in the hilly terrain nearby. Grant knew there were at least 5,000 civilians in Vicksburg and gave an official warning that the town itself was now considered a target. 

Dora Miller, a northerner by birth and a Union supporter, was married to a Southern lawyer and lived in Vicksburg. She kept a diary throughout the campaign and on March 20, 1863, wrote, “In view of expected military operations against the city, non-combatants were being ordered by authorities to leave or prepare accordingly.” Only a few chose to leave at that time, but many must have questioned their decision as the months wore on.

Emma Balfour, a Southern woman, married to a local physician, wrote, “What is to become of all the living things in this place when the boats commence shelling--God only knows--shut up as in a trap--no ingress or egress--and thousands of women and children.”

From May 18-23, General Grant ordered another series of attacks but all failed to reach the outskirts of the city, and the Union casualties were heavy. Many of those dead and wounded were still lying where they fell. It was unmercifully hot and both Union and Confederate soldiers were now affected by the stench of dead soldiers and horses and the screams of those wounded. On the afternoon of May 24, 1863, the Confederate commander offered a truce so that the Union could safely retrieve bodies and care for their wounded. At first, General Grant refused, perhaps thinking it might be perceived as weakness; but by evening he accepted the respite. On the 25th, both Union and Confederate soldiers emerged from their positions and gathered in the battle area. Despite the grim task at hand, some of the men carried on a light hearted banter and others traded personal goods such as paper and buttons. One contemporary wrote that, “The air was filled with Yankee twang and Southern drawl.” But after the field was clear, Grant decided that there would be no more direct assaults.

Historian Shelby Foote wrote that Grant "did not regret having made the assaults; he only regretted that they had failed." Grant reluctantly settled into a siege and later wrote, “I now determined upon a regular siege—to 'out-camp the enemy,' as it were, and to incur no more losses."

But the White civilians, and the Black slaves who had no say in the matter, were now trapped in Vicksburg and would get no reprieve; and the shelling continued. With no new supplies permitted into the town, food, water, and medicine were rationed for the 30,000 Confederate troops and the 5,000 civilians. While the townspeople probably had enough supplies to last for months, if the only demand came from the civilians; the Confederate Army was never very well supplied and those soldiers now in Vicksburg became a further drain on the stored resources.

The residents and soldiers steadily went through the chickens and the few pigs and cows that were kept in the city; and then turned to other sources of meat. Dora Miller wrote, “I think all the dogs and cats must be killed, or starved, we don’t see any more pitiful animals prowling around.”  The reality of the situation was even worse than she wrote, as most of those household pets did not starve or run off, they were consumed by their owners out of desperation. After some time, the Confederate Army also permitted the slaughter of a few mules which they no longer needed to pull supply wagons; but even that supply quickly dwindled. Mrs. Miller added later, “I send five dollars to market each morning, and it buys a small piece of mule-meat. Rice and milk is my main food; I can’t eat the mule-meat. We boil the rice and eat it cold with milk for supper."

In his book, The Siege of Vicksburg, Richard Wheeler wrote about a sick little girl who was given a Blue Jay to care for by a Confederate soldier; but the girl was too sick to pay attention to the little bird. Later, the mother related that, without telling her child, the bird was used for soup.

Dora Miller wrote about the Southern soldiers, “They are like hungry animals seeking something to devour. Poor fellows! My heart bleeds for them. They have nothing but spoiled, greasy bacon, and bread made of musty pea-flour, and but little of that.”

There was a looming fear of starvation!

But there was another eminent danger to the civilian and military occupants of Vicksburg. Union shells constantly rained down on the city. Dora Miller wrote, “We are utterly cut off from the world, surrounded by a circle of fire. The fiery shower of shells goes on day and night. People do nothing but eat what they can get, sleep when they can and dodge the shells.”

Emma Balfour wrote later as the shelling reached the town, “I was up in my room sewing and praying in my heart . . . and we went …rushing into caves…Just as we got in, several (shells) exploded just over our heads. As all this rushed over me and the sense of suffocation from being underground, the certainty that there was no way of escape, that we were hemmed in, caged:--for one moment my heart seemed to stand still. Nearly all the families in town spent the night in their caves.”

Yes, she was writing about being in caves; not natural caves, but holes in the ground, recently dug out to provide some protection from the shelling.

Lida Lord described the futility of staying in a house. “Before sunset a bombshell burst into the very center of the dining room ... crushing the well-spread table like an eggshell, and making a great yawning hole in the floor, into which disappeared supper, china, furniture... and our stock of butter and eggs."

Since their homes provided no safety from the shells, the residents began to build caves into the hills; hoping that they would be at least resistant to the bombs. And, in many cases, they proved to be!

Most caves were dug by slaves or hired workers. While some caves were paid for and built for a specific family, it was more common for several families to agree to share the new space, with the inherent loss of privacy that had to be expected. However, there were also caves built by speculators who would sell them, but more often they would rent space in a cave and those conditions could be more crowded. Most had some furniture, and the more elegant caves had carpet. Lida Lord wrote of one of the more extravagant caves her family shared with several others. “The cave ran about twenty feet underground and communicated at right angles with a wing which opened on the front of the hill, giving us a free circulation of air. At the door was an arbor of branches, in which, on a pine table, we dined when shelling permitted. Near it were a dug-out fireplace and an open-air kitchen, with table, pans, …" She described one night when 65 people crowded in, including several slaves and other servants, as being, “Packed in, black and white, like sardines in a box.”

But even the best caves could not withstand a direct hit. When one shell hit, Lida described the scene, “…a landslide buried little Lucy McRae alive. Even as Dr. Lord, himself injured, was successfully digging the ….child out of the dirt, a baby boy was being born in another part of the cave.”

While the residents withstood the constant shelling, eventually, the eminent starvation of civilians and troops led the Confederate commander request surrender terms from General Grant on July 3rd. On that same day, Dora Miller wrote that, “..rats are hanging dressed in the market for sale with mule meat - there is nothing else.”

General Grant and General Pemberton, the Confederate commander, knew each other and their exchanges were cordial. Pemberton’s superiors in Richmond wanted him to hold out longer, but with starvation becoming a reality, surrender of the troops and the town was necessary. Grant offered generous surrender terms and, on July 4th, Pemberton agreed. Over 30,000 Southern soldiers received paroles, conditioned on an agreement to not engage Union forces; and they marched out of Vicksburg. Grant’s gesture was not just humanitarian; he knew he could not care for nor transport that many prisoners. Grant, in his memoirs, wrote that he hoped most would simply go back to their homes; however, to his disappointment, many rejoined other Confederate units and fought again.

The incessant bombing did cause civilian casualties in Vicksburg; but not as many as might have been expected from the thousands of shells of various types which were lobbed into the city. Twelve civilians were killed, including several children, and about 50 wounded badly enough to require care. It was, nonetheless, still a tragedy for the small town and its families.

But the fall of Vicksburg was a significant victory for the Union cause, and, personally, for General Grant. The Union, not the Southern forces, now controlled travel on the Mississippi River from New Orleans north into Northern states. However, it was a devastating loss for the Confederacy. A key lifeline for the South was lost and, in effect, the new nation was divided into states east or west of the River.  Although the Civil War would continue for nearly two years, and many more Southern cities would be ravaged by Union forces; the take-over of Vicksburg was like a stake in the heart for the secessionist cause.

But the people of Vicksburg had endured. They had dug over 500 caves, subsisted on rations no person expects to have to eat, and withstood a horrific bombardment. The caves certainly helped preserve lives; but when the people emerged after the battles were over, their splendid Southern town was utterly destroyed. However, they would soon begin to rebuild Vicksburg; although now, of course, under the watchful eye of their new neighbors, the Yankees.

And the Southern citizens of Vicksburg would refuse to celebrate the 4th of July for another eighty years!

Those Custer Boys (Article 94)

George Armstrong Custer left historians and other western authors with numerous stories (some partly true, some mostly false, and many exaggerated); but the most often told is about Custer’s Last Stand against a coalition of Native American Tribes at Little Big Horn on June 25, 1876. Even his title as “General” given in most accounts is an exaggeration, as he was a Lt. Colonel at the time of his death. Often overlooked, however, is the fact that two of his brothers, Thomas and Boston, were with him at the time. All three “Custer boys” died that day.

 But George Armstrong and Thomas were Civil War heroes, and Boston was a loyal younger brother who was willing to follow them into battle. In George’s case, he was a good career officer and effective battle leader in the Civil War who deserves to be remembered for more than just his “Last Stand.” Thomas, the middle brother, was a true hero of the Civil War and was twice awarded the Medal of Honor, still a rarity today. Boston was too young to enlist at the time, but joined his brothers, serving the U.S. Army as a contractor as soon as he was old enough.

 While the catchy term “Custer’s Last Stand” is not incorrect, George Armstrong had many other successful “Stands” before his death in 1876. And, because of his independent and aggressive tendencies, he was also involved in other controversial actions. He became an Army officer by graduating from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point just as the Civil War broke out in 1861. He graduated at the bottom of his class and had no recommendations from the staff except that he was an exceptional horseman. He was considered careless, undisciplined, and a poor student; and those traits led him to accumulate more demerits as a Cadet than anyone before him in the history of the institution. The fact is that Cadet Custer did not care about his standing. He just wanted an officer’s commission and a chance to lead in battle

 The Civil War had already started, and immediately upon graduation, the new Second Lieutenant was given a series of staff positions, near battle lines, but not in a leadership position, nor in direct action against the enemy. However, as his superior officers’ performance reports noted, he became a much better young officer than his cadet records might have predicted; despite his occasional audacious actions. In one instance, he and other mounted officers accompanied a senior General to determine the best place for their troops to cross a river. The General said, “It would help to know how deep it is?” Custer suddenly broke ranks, and rode his horse into the river, fought the current, and reached the other side! Then Custer yelled back, “That’s how deep it is, General.”

 But, eventually, he would get his chance in battle.

In June 1862, while serving in Virginia, he successfully led a series of pointed attacks and was personally congratulated by Commanding General George McClellan for “A very gallant affair.”  Officers who served with Custer admired his courage in battle, but some noted that he began to embellish the circumstances of the engagements. Such exaggerations were not entirely unusual for young officers, many of whom wanted a chance for a leadership position and progression to a higher rank. However, the promotions the younger officers received were usually not permanent changes in rank, but were granted temporarily (termed brevet) to give an officer authority during a specific battle or a tactical mission. In June 1863, at only twenty-three years of age, George Armstrong Custer received one of the brevet promotions to Brigadier General; and he made the most of it.

 His troops soon learned that they had a General who would lead from the front and would become among the first to engage the enemy. His cavalry charges became known as the “Custer Dash” as he exhorted others to follow his lead.

At Gettysburg, in July 1863, General Custer led his men in a charge against a superior Confederate force, which became one of the many small turning points in that epic battle. As described by a contemporary, General Custer rode to the front of his men, threw off his hat, so that his men could see his long hair, yelled “Come on you Wolverines” and, with his sabre raised, charged headlong into the Confederate cavalry. They rode so fast and hard that the two forces met in more of a collision than a battle, with men and horses thrown into the air; but Custer had stopped the Confederate advance. Evidently not satisfied that his superior officers would record the epic charge with the dramatic flair it deserved, Custer wrote in his battle report, “I challenge the annals of warfare to produce a more brilliant or successful charge of cavalry.” And then, almost as an afterthought, he added that 257 of his 400 men were listed as killed or wounded and inactive; which, if correct, may have been the worst casualty rate of any Union Force at Gettysburg. (It must be noted that records by other regimental officers in Custer’s command indicate a much lower casualty figure for all of Custer’s nearly 1,200 troops; perhaps Custer intended to address only one specific group in his report.)

 However, Custer was an effective battle leader and was respected by Generals Ulysses S. Grant and Phillip Sheridan, who ensured Custer was present at Appomattox Court House when General Grant met Robert E. Lee for the surrender of those Confederate forces. Custer considered it a great honor, which he often related to others.

At the end of the Civil War, George Custer had several civilian career options, but he decided to stay in the Army as a Cavalry officer, assigned to the Western Frontier of Kansas, Nebraska, and the Dakotas.  Earlier, in 1864, George had married Libbie Bacon. Some say he waited until he was a General to propose, but the fact is that they had known each since they were children and had corresponded regularly.  Contemporary accounts, plus Libbie’s articles after her husband’s death, indicate a couple deeply committed to each other.                           

Most historians overlook Custer’s wife, and that is a mistake, as Libbie had a strong influence on him. Perhaps his fighting legend is difficult to reconcile with the fact that he was a devoted husband. Custer missed Libby when they were apart and he once, in 1868, even risked arrest by his commanding officer for being AWOL (absent without leave) to visit her. He was only saved from Court Martial by a higher-ranking General who wanted Custer to lead a force deeper into Indian territory. As a historical side note, many years after the “Last Stand” at Little Big Horn, a former Indian Scout began to circulate an oral Cheyenne legend that George Armstrong had taken a Cheyenne woman as a wife and fathered two children by her during the period 1868-1869. That story still surfaces, but most historians believe it is untrue as there is evidence that George Armstrong was unable to father children because of an early illness. If the oral tradition has any validity, it was likely that his brother Thomas was the Custer involved. George’s widow never remarried and, for the rest of her life, attacked the rumors as false whenever they surfaced.

George Armstrong expected to retire from the U.S. army when he was forty, probably to begin a political career, and live the rest of his life with Libby. But he did not get that chance. He died at the age of 36 with his men facing an overwhelming force on June 25, 1876. It is historically unfortunate when an officer, who courageously fought for the United States and whose leadership in battle assured numerous victories, should primarily be remembered for a failed mission. He deserves better. 

Then, there is his brother, Thomas Custer, who enlisted in the Union Army, in September 1861, at age 16. He served as a foot soldier in the early campaigns of the Civil War and distinguished himself in battle. Superior officers gave him several field promotions, when other officers were killed or wounded, and he became recognized as a natural leader of men. These promotions to Lieutenant and Captain, were all temporary ranks and he would revert to his permanent rank of Corporal when the mission was over. That was standard procedure at the time and Thomas accepted that he was considered an enlisted soldier, not an officer, and just did his duty as asked.

But his bravery under fire was unquestioned. Thomas is one of only a few soldiers to be twice awarded the Medal of Honor; and both were for capturing Confederate Regimental flags while under intense enemy fire. In one instance, he not only seized the enemy flag, he actually captured several Confederates and marched them back as his prisoners to Union lines. These were not just foolhardy exploits as these battle flags, for both sides, symbolized more than regimental pride. During the chaos and confusion of combat, soldiers watched their Regimental flag and if it advanced, flanked, or retreated they would follow. Being chosen to carry the Regimental flag was an honor; however, the loss of a Regimental flag to the enemy was considered an embarrassing defeat.

Thomas mustered out with his unit in October 1864, before the war was over; however, based on stellar reports by superior officers, he received a commission as a Second Lieutenant. He became an aide to his brother, General George Armstrong Custer and accompanied him throughout the last year of the war.  Thomas was only twenty years old when the war ended.

He respected his older brother and was willing to serve as a junior officer in his units, during and after the Civil War. And, he was willing to follow his brother into harm’s way; which certainly is a special brotherhood.

But the Custer Boys also included the youngest brother, Boston! He was too young to enlist when the war started, but became a civilian contractor to the Army in the late stages of the war.  After the Civil War ended, when his brothers left for the Indian Territory, Boston joined them as a forage master for George's 7th Cavalry Regiment. On June 25, 1876, along with his 18-year-old nephew Henry Reed, Boston was trailing the main force with supplies when George Armstrong sent a courier to request more ammunition. Boston and Henry delivered the ammunition near Little Big Horn and there they both died along with George and Thomas.

Often lost in the story is that First Lieutenant James Calhoun, who was George’s brother-in-law, was also with the “Custer Boys” that day, and died with the others.

 So, how should we look at the Custer boys, George, Thomas, and Boston? There is no doubt in my mind that George and Thomas were heroes of the Civil War and dutiful soldiers for the U.S. Army afterward. And, Boston must have loved being with his brothers to follow them westward into what was certain to be a dangerous mission.

 They should all be remembered for more than the “Last Stand.”

Q & A September 1, 2020

Q and A September 1, 2020

 The following are more questions/comments I have received from readers over the past year. I usually print 5 or 6, however, the first question printed here deserved more of a response than I usually provide. The question, and I believe my response, are important because the exchange illustrates that the current frenzy to attack figures from our past by toppling, defacing or moving historic monuments and statues, can cause some to ignore common sense. They then actually harm memorials that project a positive message and which seem to support their cause. So, my response was long, probably too long for this post, but I did not know how to abbreviate the message. As a result, I will need to limit the number of other questions this time.

 (Q) I am sure you are aware of the Civil War Memorial in Boston to the 54th Massachusetts Regiment of Black soldiers and the unit’s commander Colonel Robert Shaw, who was White. There is now a controversy brewing about the memorial and whether it should be moved. I feel that this monument is different than others, which are being removed, and hope it is not altered in any way. Isn’t the story one of uplifting Black men and recognizing their courage? What is your opinion?

PHOTO- Shaw Memorial

(A)The monument you reference is in front of the Massachusetts State House. At last I checked, it is still obscured by a plywood wall to both protect it from further vandalism and to repair a section damaged earlier. The vandals have not yet caused extensive damage; although, on May 31, 2020, graffiti was painted on the plywood and the stone back of the monument. I am not sure why vandals chose this monument; perhaps ignorance of its message. The memorial was intended to commemorate the heroes of the Massachusetts 54th Regiment, an all-Black unit of Union soldiers and the Regimental Commander, Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, who was White. Colonel Shaw, and most of his men, were killed during an ill-fated land assault on Fort Wagner, a Confederate facility on Charleston Bay. The city of Boston, however, was not the original intended site for the memorial. The initial plan, envisioned soon after the Civil War, was to erect the memorial in Beaufort, South Carolina, near Fort Wagner; however, White citizens in the area objected to, and some threatened, the project. When the decision was made to instead erect the monument in Boston, numerous abolitionist societies joined with survivors of the 54th Massachusetts and emancipated former slaves to pay for the project. It would seem to me to be a memorial that should garner respect, not condemnation.

However, it appears that the “cancelling or cleansing” protests are not going away anytime soon, and in some cases, have gone astray. I believe there are Confederate statues and memorials that need to be removed and/or converted to be only a part of a learning center where the horror that was slavery is well explained. I do not support the myth of the Lost Cause which grants heroic stature to many undeserving Confederate leaders. But some of these more recent protests have lost focus and, in some cases, are directed at individuals who should be revered, not chastised. Of course, I believe Abraham Lincoln is one such icon; however, another who deserves remembrance is Union Colonel Robert Gould Shaw.

In early 1863, Colonel Shaw, a devoted abolitionist, volunteered to train and lead a newly formed Massachusetts regiment of 1,600 Black men, only a very few of whom had ever had any military experience. He believed that the Black soldiers, once trained, would prove equal in skill and courage to any other Union soldier. Colonel Shaw was convinced that the new Regiment eventually would change the way both Union and Southern Generals (and politicians) viewed the Black soldiers. And he was right!

In July, 1863, the Union Army and Navy began a systematic attack in Charleston Harbor, which was one of the last functioning Confederate ports on the Atlantic.  The port was surrounded by several forts including the massive and well-defended Fort Wagner.  On July 18, knowing that casualties from any land assault would be heavy, the Union Generals ordered the 54th Massachusetts Regiment, commanded by Colonel Shaw, to storm the fort.  Colonel Shaw knew it was a near suicide mission and that he and his men were being sacrificed to determine if a direct land assault might breech the walls of the fort.  Shaw met with his men before the battle and told them they would face heavy resistance and suffer many casualties, but he had confidence they would prove themselves up to their task that day. He said that they were among the finest soldiers he had ever commanded, and then added that, “Your actions, and discipline under fire will rewrite the history of your people, and I am proud to face this enemy with you.”

 And he did, as he led his men from the front!

 Colonel Shaw's men steadily fought their way through a maze of trenches which provided almost no cover from the Confederate sharpshooters who manned the top of the fort.  Most of the soldiers were struck and only a few of Shaw's men were able to reach the base of the fort; but none were able to actually breech the walls. The attack had failed and the casualties, dead and wounded, were heavy, including Colonel Shaw who was killed as he led the troops toward the fort. The Union Generals, after observing the withering patterns of fire from the fort, decided no frontal attack could succeed and chose instead to begin a siege; which lasted for two more months before Fort Wagner was finally abandoned by the South. The day after the battle, Colonel Shaw's body was stripped by Confederate soldiers and thrown into a mass grave with the many Black soldiers who had also been killed.  While Confederate General Johnson Hagood allowed the remains of other White officers to be returned north, he intended the treatment of Colonel Shaw's body to be an insult for leading the Black troops.

 However, Colonel Shaw's family did not react in the manner General Hagood probably expected. 

 Shaw's family had been prominent abolitionists in Boston and they were proud of their son's willingness to train and lead the Black regiment. While his family certainly mourned his death, they refused later offers to disinter his body for its return to Boston, to a more prominent final resting place and with full military honors.  His father said, “We can imagine no holier place than that in which he lies, among his brave and devoted soldiers, nor wish for him better company; what a bodyguard he has!” Then later, responding to a personal note of condolence from Abraham Lincoln, his father wrote, in part, “If our son's death contributes to securing equal justice, our loss, and grief, will be a blessing.”

 In 1866, former Black soldiers of the 54th Massachusetts and other black veterans raised enough money to commission the memorial we now see in Boston. Yes, it depicts Colonel Shaw on a horse surrounded by marching Black soldiers, evidently a scene some feel denigrates the Black foot-soldiers and promotes the superiority of the White Colonel. Nothing could be further from the truth. First, every black soldier depicted was based on an individual who served. Second, in the Civil War, senior officers rode horses and soldiers marched! Simple as that. It is impossible to imagine that the Black soldiers who contributed to that memorial intended to depict anything but respect for individual brave soldiers following their commander into a deadly battle.

 Only ignorance, or a twisted view of history, would cause anyone to want to disrespect that memorial. I hope it stays where it is.

 (Q) I read an internet post which claimed that Abraham Lincoln had permitted a secret message to be delivered to Jefferson Davis that stated Lincoln would grant a pardon to Davis, his cabinet, and top Generals if they would give up armed resistance by March 31, 1865. This would have saved many lives over the next month, including Lincoln’s. Was there such a message and if there was, why on earth would Davis have rejected it? He had to know by then the South would lose. The author of the article said it pointed out Lincoln’s goodness and Davis’s stubbornness.

(A) I do not believe there was such a message, at least as you describe it. Lincoln did permit an emissary, Francis Preston Blair, to go to Richmond and see if there was any chance Davis was ready to concede defeat and end the Confederacy. However, Lincoln did not expect a favorable response because he would not permit the Confederacy to survive as a separate nation, while he believed Davis would insist upon keeping some form of a Confederate state. Certainly, Lincoln discussed pardons for Confederate officials, soldiers and officers, within his cabinet, but not a specific offer to Davis. As to the post you read, sometimes history writers run out of ideas from historical facts and turn to speculation. I hope I have avoided that trap, so far.

 (Q) I know that Dwight Eisenhower as Commanding General in WWII supported Black soldiers in the military and, unlike previous Generals, permitted Blacks to be commissioned as officers; although in command of only all-Black forces. After the end of the war, President Truman ordered the complete integration of the Armed Forces, a position Eisenhower, by then a private citizen, supported. But Eisenhower was an admirer of Robert E. Lee and received some criticism for not condemning Lee as a traitor and slave-holder.  Are you aware of Eisenhower’s admiration for Lee? How do you reconcile his seemingly contrary position?

(A) I am no expert of Eisenhower but I believe his admiration for Robert E. Lee was based on Lee’s stellar record as a cadet at West Point, his courageous service in the Mexican War, and his outstanding engineering feats for the Army Corps of Engineers. Further, he studied Lee’s strategies and tactics during the Civil War and believed Lee was a master at military maneuvers. Finally, after the war, he admired Lee’s acceptance of loss without the rancor displayed by many other former Confederates. It is important to note that Eisenhower was no southern sympathizer, supported voting rights acts, and the integration of public schools. In his mind, he had room to condemn racial barriers but still admire Lee. An example of Ike’s thought process surfaced as he was finishing his second term as President in 1960. He received a letter complaining that he had a painting of Lee in the Oval office of the White House and the writer made sure newspapers received a copy of the letter. President Eisenhower responded as follows (in part).
“Dear Dr. Scott:
...Respecting your  inquiry calling attention to my often expressed admiration for General Robert E. Lee, I would say, first, that we need to understand that at the time of the War between the States the issue of secession had remained unresolved for more than 70 years. Men of probity, character, public standing and unquestioned loyalty, both North and South, had disagreed over this issue as a matter of principle from the day our Constitution was adopted. General Robert E. Lee was, in my estimation, one of the supremely gifted men produced by our Nation. …..He was a poised and inspiring leader, true to the high trust reposed in him by millions of his fellow citizens; he was thoughtful yet demanding of his officers and men, forbearing with captured enemies, but ingenious, unrelenting and personally courageous in battle, and never disheartened by a reverse or obstacle. Through all his many trials, he remained selfless almost to a fault and unfailing in his faith in God. Taken altogether, he was noble as a leader and as a man, and unsullied as I read the pages of our history. From deep conviction, I simply say this: a nation of men of Lee’s caliber would be unconquerable in spirit and soul. To the degree that present-day American youth will strive to emulate his rare qualities, including his devotion to this land as revealed in his painstaking efforts to help heal the Nation’s wounds once the bitter struggle was over, will be strengthened and our love of freedom sustained.
Such are the reasons that I proudly display the picture of this great American on my office wall.
Sincerely,
Dwight D. Eisenhower”

Well said, Mr. President! It must be noted that President Eisenhower also had a painting of Abraham Lincoln in the Oval Office and considered Lincoln, along with Washington, as the two greatest Presidents. He saw no contradiction in his admiration for Lincoln and for Robert. E. Lee.

Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com

Q & A August 1, 2020

Q & A from Readers – August 1, 2020

 Here are more questions/comments from readers and my replies. I always receive at least a few e-mails after I post a blog or article and I still get comments by readers of my books five years after publishing. I respond to every single one. In this post, I give you a very disappointed reader of my first book, published in 2015, but which he just finished. You may surmise that he is not a fan, but I enjoyed his critique. Next, I re-print a letter from a descendant of slaves who was trying to track her family history. I was not much help, but I admire her effort.  Another letter compares the horrible conditions of Civil War prison camps and the last offers a story of one family’s tragedy following that war.

 Q) I just finished reading your book, Abraham Lincoln-An Uncommon, Common Man, which was published in 2015. I bought a used copy recently from Amazon for $3.29, but I noticed that the retail price was $34.95. I think I paid a fair price, but the original owner did not. I could not believe the details you left out about the important political issues of his day and the other cast of characters who drove those issues. I found a few original observations, but I resent that you did not provide complete footnotes and more fully disclose your sources. Because of those lapses in historical protocols, I assess that your book was more of an opinion piece rather than a historical account. I have read over 7,000 history books, not all were great but most of them were more useful than your book. Historians like me expect better than such laissez faire work.

(A) Where to start? First, I wrote that book to introduce Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War to those who may not have your level of historical knowledge. I assume you intend “laissez faire” to reflect that my work is not thorough; however, I believe that I honestly described history, but in a manner easily read.  One earlier critic referred to it as “Lincoln 101” which was exactly the readers I hoped to reach, so I embraced the phrase. My concern with many history books is that they overwhelm the reader with minutiae and footnotes, which I realize are important to historians, but may cause the non-historian to lose interest. As to your having read 7,000 history books, I am amazed. I had never stopped to estimate a number, but I suppose in my lifetime I have read about 1,500 books focused on American history and about 200 on Lincoln, most of which I still have in my library. (But, nowhere near your 7,000!). However, if you are going criticize my books, and even other authors’ historical accounts and novels, please remember that most Americans probably only read a few books about history, and even fewer specifically about Abraham Lincoln; so, I am honored when they choose one of mine. You know that there is such a thing as a history snob; which is a person more interested in displaying a knowledge of factual minutiae, rather than helping others learn important lessons from history. (Of course, I am not pointing a finger.) {Note: I will not reprint the reply I received back, but suffice it to say, I lost a reader}

 (Q) I read with interest your article “An Escape Aboard the Planter” which described the sail to freedom by the slave Robert Smalls in Charleston Harbor. I am a descendant of slaves and the folklore of my family indicates my GGGgrandfather and grandmother who were slaves also escaped by boat from the Charleston area and were rescued by the Union Navy. Unfortunately, no photographs or even written records exist, however, their story was handed down verbally for several generations. Although there have been mixed race marriages by my grandparents in the 40s and my parents in the 1960s, I identify as Black. I knew my grandfather, who was Black and his version of the events was told to me as a child. My father, who was Black, passed away ten years ago, but was focused on his career and setting high expectations for my brothers and me and never wanted to discuss the family history. However, my mother who is White, has encouraged me to keep the story of the escape going through my children. When I read your article, I began to wonder if my family was on that boat with Robert Smalls in Charleston Harbor in May 1862?  Do you have access to any documents that might help me find out? I am married to a Black man who is a veteran, and we both share a love for this country, but, paraphrasing Abraham Lincoln’s words, we believe that it is important to keep the stain that was slavery in the minds of the American public. {Note: the writer provided the family name associated with her GGGgrandfather and subsequent generations, which I chose to redact}

 (A)  Your mother is wise to encourage you to research your heritage, even if it is now only oral history. New evidence is constantly being found which might tie back to the family story you have heard. The names of some of the slaves who escaped with Robert Smalls are listed in his account of the episode, however, I have not done extensive research into this matter. I know that Mr. Smalls left an extensive record of speeches and letters about the escape and you might find information there. Mr. Smalls is an important historical figure and, therefore, there is a good on-line collection of literature, articles, and opinion pieces about him readily available. I sincerely hope you can gain some details about your family history. I am sorry I could not be more help, but please let me know where your research leads.  {Added Note: I recently received an e-mail from the writer stating that her relative was not with Robert Smalls; however, she did discover that there were several other slave groups who escaped from the Charleston area by boat in the 1860s, so she is still searching for records. She is experiencing the fun (and frustration) of historical research. I hope she is successful in learning more about her family, as it will make a story to be treasured}

 (Q)In your book and in several articles, you wrote about the terrible conditions at Andersonville prison in Georgia, which is correctly named Fort Sumter. I do not question that Andersonville was a horrible place. However, by absence of criticism, you imply that Northern prisoner of war camps were more humane. They were not! Camp Chase in Columbus, Ohio and Camp Douglas in Chicago were notorious for not providing Confederate prisoners with shelter against the cold and many died as a result. But the Union prison camp in Elmira, New York rivalled the horrors of Andersonville and should always be mentioned in the same breath.  Although it was only used in the late stages of the war, it was called “Hellmira” for good reason. Over 3,000 men died out of the 12,000 Confederate prisoners housed at Elmira during its year of operation. Will you grant that Elmira was as bad as Andersonville and deserves the same condemnations?

(A) I am sorry that I cannot fully agree with you; Camp Elmira, Camp Chase, and Camp Douglas were certainly terrible places to be interred as were several other Confederate prisons. But none compared with the conditions permitted at Camp Sumter (Andersonville). Designed to house 7-10,000 men, in the fifteen months it was open, over 45,000 POWs were sent there. Some were moved to other nearby camps, but steady populations of over 30,000 were imprisoned in the squalid camp. Over 13,000 died before liberation in April 1865 and another 3,000 are believed to have died before they could be returned home. Elmira deserves condemnation as do other POW camps ran by both the Union and the Confederacy; however, Andersonville (Camp Sumter) was by far the worst and that fact cannot be mitigated by pointing out the failings of other camps. Andersonville proved to be its own special hell on earth. (NOTE: On the other hand, many people are probably familiar with Elmira for a more favorable part of its past. Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) was associated with Elmira College after the end of the Civil War and he is buried there in Woodlawn Cemetery. Some of the Confederate soldiers, who died in the prison camp, are also interred there; but most were moved to Southern cemeteries after the war.  

 (Q) You wrote about General John Pemberton who joined the Confederacy out of love for his wife, a Virginian. You also devoted some space in your book and in an article about Major Sullivan Ballou whose poignant final letter to his wife spoke of a breeze being his breath on her cheek if he were killed in action; which he was the following day. I am sure there were many such stories but I ran across a brief article about General Emory Upton which told of his tragic Civil War story. Do you know about him and his wife and the tragedy that befell them during the Civil War? If so, can you add details?

(A) I do know about Colonel Upton, but to be correct, their tragedies occurred after the Civil War. Colonel Emory Upton, whose temporary ranks included Major General, had a unique career. He was a graduate of West Point in 1861, and during his stay, had once challenged a classmate to a duel; fortunately, they both survived the swordfight. During the Civil War, he was regarded as a heroic and effective officer; however, he began to challenge certain Union tactical attack formations led by more senior officers. As his career progressed, he constantly derided decisions older Generals made utilizing outdated battlefield tactics; and he was occasionally reprimanded. However, he was so effective in the field, his minor insubordinations were overlooked. After the war, he was named to the West Point faculty where he pursued his more modern approach to tactical warfare. As to his marriage, he was single during the war, but he knew Emily Norwood Martin and they corresponded. They were married in 1868, three years after the war ended. Clearly, he was devoted to his wife as their many letters before and after their marriage indicate. But Emily was never well, suffering from respiratory issues, which would eventually claim her life in 1870, likely from tuberculosis. Colonel Upton was away on assignment when she died, and he never recovered from the loss. Although he stayed in the army, he lost his zeal and, a few years later, becoming ill himself, he committed suicide. After his death, a colleague took his many notes on army tactics, compiled them into a comprehensive narrative, and over time, he became (posthumously) recognized for modernizing the U. S. Army.

Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com

Q & A July 10, 2020

Q&A June 6, 2020

 The following are questions, comments, and rants I received over the past years from readers of my articles and books. Every new article generates a few e-mails, but some seem to grab the attention of a larger group of readers. Last year, for example, the article about Confederate memorials and the article about a fallen soldier at Gettysburg resulted in more correspondence than almost all other nearly 100 articles I have published.

 Recently, I received over thirty e-mails about the 2020 Memorial Day article, “Lincoln’s Young Friend” which recalled the tragic death of Col. Elmer Ellsworth. Most were just acknowledge-ments, but the following three e-mails brought a different perspective and may be of interest. Other readers commented on articles about the escape from Libby Prison and about the Northern born officer who joined the Confederacy based on his love for his wife.

 (Q)  While I enjoyed your article on Elmer Ellsworth, in the interest of accuracy I must point out a couple of bits of misinformation. Lincoln was not a friend or even an acquaintance of Ellsworth's father.  Ephraim was an impoverished handyman in New York. The only contact President Lincoln had with the senior Ellsworth was a letter of condolence Lincoln wrote to the family after young Ellsworth's murder.   Ellsworth had been introduced to Mr. Lincoln by Springfield Militia Commander John Cook shortly before Ellsworth took his Chicago-based U.S. Zouave Cadets on their sensational six-week tour in 1860.  Ellsworth and his Zouaves became a phenomenon.  Before that, Ellsworth was a law clerk and when Lincoln hired him shortly after the nomination, it was more as a campaign worker than as a clerk. Ellsworth was in charge of his newly recruited New York Fire Zouaves for less than two months when on May 24th they were ordered to help take Alexandria, Va.  However, they did not march across a bridge from Washington D.C. to Alexandria.  They took steamboats to Alexandria. This information is found in “1861, The Civil War Awakening” by Adam Goodheart and “Freedom Rising” by Ernest B. Furguson.

(A) Thank you for these corrections. I try to be historically accurate, however, I occasionally slip up. (Note: I have edited this e-mail a bit, just for space, but the writer’s factual information is intact.) I have now made these corrections to the article for the archives. I hope that these errors, whether Lincoln knew Col. Ellsworth’s father and the transportation Ellsworth used to get to Alexandria, do not detract from the story about a young soldier who died in the service to our country. My intent was a Memorial Day remembrance.

 (Q) I enjoyed your Memorial Day article about Union Colonel Ellsworth; however, for the third time, as I recall, for this special holiday, you wrote about the gallantry of a Union soldier. There were numerous examples of young Confederate soldiers who fought heroically and died in combat.  Do you not have similar regard for them?

(A) That is a fair question. In my mind, Memorial Day recognizes those who died serving the United States. I frankly had not given much thought to whether, or not, it also honors those who died fighting for the Confederacy. After about 1880, several Presidents and Congresses made conciliatory gestures to former Confederates to help try to heal the country. For example, they approved a Confederate Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery and there are Confederate soldiers buried there.  While some Southerners accepted the gestures regarding Arlington, most others did not. There are, however, numerous Confederate cemeteries throughout the South, and, in fact, the first Memorial Day observance was at one of these cemeteries where flowers were scattered on graves. Northern states realized the respect that bestowed and picked up the practice. A few Southern states still recognize a Confederate Memorial Day, but on different dates than the National holiday. I certainly grant you that there were many heroic acts by Southern soldiers, and their bravery should be remembered. (I have written about several such Confederate soldiers; Thomas Jackson, Sam Watkins, Will Thomas, John Mosby, and John Beall come to mind.) Their absence from my Memorial Day articles should not be seen as disrespect.

 (Q) The article you wrote about Union Colonel Ellsworth’s death at the hotel in Alexandria, Virginia is mis-guided at best and outright biased at worst. The only hero that day was James W. Jackson, the civilian owner of the hotel who defended his home and family against foreign invaders! Ellsworth was showboating when he went to the roof of the hotel, which was the private property of Mr. Jackson. Against five Yankee interlopers, really thieves, Jackson armed himself and stood his ground. He was killed by the other Yankee soldiers while in his home. It insults all Southerners for you to refer to him as the assailant. You should have selected another, more deserving Union soldier than Ellsworth to honor on Memorial Day and I would not have complained. Lincoln was a tyrant and I believe Ellsworth was trying to take a souvenir back to his boss. He deservedly paid the price. As an aside, you would be more of a historian and less of a bigot if you wrote occasionally about Southern heroes of that War of Northern Aggression.

(A)  (I should note that this letter is edited only for volume and repetition, but I did not change any key words; so, I believe I left intact the writer’s full message. The following is my reply to the writer.)  It is interesting to me that the very same event, after nearly 160 years, could be seen by two people so differently. We agree on the basic facts of the actual incident, but not the motives. The Confederate states, through their army and militias, instigated the Civil War. The state of Virginia did not rush to join other Southern states in secession and the United States Government had yet taken no action into Virginia. However, when Virginia voted to secede, over a month after the Civil War began, the proximity of Alexandria to Washington DC, just across the Potomac River, left the President with no choice to create a buffer to protect the Nation’s Capital from attack. The Confederate flag that Col. Ellsworth removed was a symbol of an insurgent power which would initiate any such attack, and I believe he did his duty as he saw it. The little research I have done on Mr. Jackson paints a picture of a very aggressive personality and a strong advocate for secession and slavery. I believe that most of the Alexandria citizens realized that the town would be occupied and they offered little resistance. There was no seizure of property by the Union soldiers and business were left intact; so, in my opinion, Mr. Jackson lost his temper at an inopportune time. He could have continued to operate his hotel, if he had chosen to do so. By the way, I did not portray Col. Ellsworth as having taken heroic action that day, only that he died while serving his country, and that is the only standard for being honored on Memorial Day.

(NOTE: The writer certainly is not alone in his view of Confederate history. For over 120 years, there was a plaque, displayed near the site of the shooting, honoring James Jackson as, “The first martyr to the cause of Southern Independence.” It was moved to a museum in 2017.)

 (Q) I read your article on General Arthur MacArthur, father of Gen. Douglas MacArthur. Have you researched the Custer family? Of course, George Armstrong Custer is famous for the debacle at Little Big Horn in 1876; but earlier, he and his brother were also heroes in the Civil War. What is your take on the Custers?

(A) The simple answer is that I agree that George and Thomas were heroes. In fact, a chapter of my latest book (yet to be published) has a chapter titled, Custer’s First Stands in which I highlight his Civil War record. He was a good officer and leader who deserves to be remembered for more than just his “Last Stand.” I did not include information about his brothers in the new book, simply for lack of space. His brother Thomas, also an officer in the 7th Cavalry, died with him at Little Big horn; however, in the Civil War, he was a two-time recipient of the Medal of Honor. The youngest brother, Boston, who also died at Little Big Horn, was serving as a civilian scout and forager to the 7th Cavalry, but did not serve in the Civil War. I have drafted an article, but not yet finished the research, tentatively titled “The Custer Boys” which I hope to publish in late 2020. If my book, “The Lincoln Era-Glimpses of Humanity in Chaotic Times” has not been published by then, I will probably include the chapter about George with the drafted article on all three brothers. They were a remarkable trio of young men!

 (Q) In April you published an article about John C. Pemberton, the Northern born General, who defected from the U.S. Army to join the Confederate Army supposedly because he loved his wife who was from Virginia. Two points: First he surely had a more philosophical or practical reason to defect; which is actually better described as to commit treason against the U.S. Further, why no photographs of the couple.

 (A) I do not believe there was another compelling reason for his decision; he loved his wife and her family, who were from Virginia. He did admire the heritage of Virginians in the founding of the nation, so that may have added to his decision. He had been stationed in Virginia for much of his military career, in the U.S. Army, and probably considered himself more a Virginian than a Pennsylvanian. Remember he remained in the Union Army even after the Civil War started and did not resign his commission until after Virginia voted to secede, in late May 1861. But overall, I believe his love for his wife Pattie, was his primary reason for joining the Confederacy. Also, I disagree with your characterization of his actions as traitorous. The federal legal position, as stated by Salmon Chase (when he became Chief Justice) held that those officers, who resigned their commission, did not commit treason; but did commit crimes against the government if they fought for the Confederate States of America. I agree that this is a very precise distinction without much difference. Yours is not the only request for photographs of this remarkable couple. I regret not including these photos in the original publication; it was a poor editing decision on my part trying to reduce the size of the article. While there are numerous photographs of John, as far as I know, only one photograph exists of his wife, Pattie. The following photo of John was taken soon after he joined the Confederate Army, but the lone photograph of Pattie is undated. Perhaps it was also near the start of the Civil War in 1861, when she would have been about 34 years old.

 PHOTO??

 (Q) When I first started your article about General Pemberton, who joined the Confederate Army because of his devotion to his wife, I anticipated that he died in the war. When I finished the story, and learned he survived the war, I wondered if he ever regretted his decision.

(A) Nothing I have read about him indicates regret. He did state on several occasions, (paraphrased), that if faced with the same choices, he would make the same decision. He lived another fifteen years after the war with his wife and children, and I like to think he was content.

 (Q) I was fascinated by the story of the escape from Libby prison by Union POWs. You note that Col. Thomas Rose returned to duty in the Union Army. An article I read recently stated that most POWs suffer some form of PTSD but it only referenced WWII and Viet Nam. Do you know if Civil War POWs experienced PTSD?

(A) Great question: In WWII, soldiers experiencing such trauma were often diagnosed with “shell shock or battle fatigue” and PTSD has only been a diagnosis for the past forty years or so. But, certainly some Civil War POWs, and other soldiers who were never captured, suffered from adverse phycological issues. In fact, Colonel Rose, who you mentioned, was a victim. He was in Libby prison for almost six months, planned and led the escape by a large number of POWs, but then was recaptured and returned to Libby until exchanged for a Confederate soldier a few months later. We know that his incarceration had an effect on him, because, after his release and return to duty, his fellow officers noticed changes in his demeanor and wrote about their observations. Colonel Rose had been an outgoing and energetic young officer; however, after his incarceration ended, they noted that he was reticent and quieter. In today’s world, he may have been diagnosed with PTSD and received treatment but, in the nineteenth century, he just labored on. War is traumatizing; no matter when, or where. Unfortunately, even today, successful treatment for PTSD can still be elusive.

(Q) I enjoyed the article about Abraham Lincoln initiating the Income Tax, but wanted to make one comment.  There was another major source of federal revenue prior to the Civil War, and that was the sale of public lands.  This began when the original 13 states gave up their claims to western lands during the ratification of the Constitution.  The proceeds from the sales of these lands could be used to pay off the public debt and to keep federal taxes low.  But Lincoln had a role to play here, too.  During the Civil War, with the southern states out of the Congress, the Republicans were able to get the Homestead Act of 1862 enacted.  That effectively ended land sales as a major source of federal revenue.  As a historical footnote on federal taxation, in the early 20th century groups favoring Prohibition supported the establishment of a federal income tax because one of the objections to banning the sale of alcohol was the loss of federal excise tax revenues.  Establishing a new income tax was seen as a way to compensate for that loss.  Little did anyone at the beginning of the 20th century foresee that the income tax would be THE primary source of federal revenues 50 years later!

(A) Thank you for the insight. You are correct about land sales, which also became a major source of funding for western states (Arizona included). I also think it is interesting that increasing tax revenues is also an argument for the legalization of a certain recreational drug, just as it was a concern during prohibition a hundred years ago. It is also interesting that the result after prohibition in the 1920s was both to retain the income tax and place new excise taxes on alcohol.  The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Contact the author at  gadorris2@gmail.com

Lincoln’s Young Friend - A Memorial Day Message (Article 93)

This photograph of Union Army Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth was taken in the spring of 1861. Civil War was eminent and the twenty-four year old intended to help quell the rebellion!

Abraham Lincoln had met Elmer two years earlier through an acquaintance in Chicago Illinois; and the young man had obviously made a lasting, and very positive, impression. Ellsworth was a law apprentice in Chicago when, after Abraham Lincoln had won the November 1860 election to be the next President of the United States, he applied to become a political assistant to the President-elect. At that time, Presidents were not inaugurated until March, so Lincoln had a few months to transition from being a busy country lawyer to President of a nation facing the real prospect of secession by several southern states. And, even worse, the possibility of Civil War! After Lincoln was inaugurated in March 1861, the war clouds gathered and on April 12, Confederate forces fired on Fort Sumter.

There would be Civil War and Elmer Ellsworth was prepared to serve his country. 

Soon after the start of the war, Lincoln and several others, including Illinois militia commanders, recommended Elmer, who had just turned twenty-four, for an officer commission in the Union Army. However, unlike many appointed officers early in the war whose military incompetence was soon evident, Elmer was well prepared for the military. While in Chicago, before joining Lincoln’s staff, he had been an officer in the local militia, and senior officials had noted his military professionalism.

He was initially given the rank of Captain and was sent to New York City to raise enlistees, who he would then train as new soldiers. He successfully raised the 11th New York Volunteer Regiment, which, in part, consisted of men who served in the city’s volunteer fire departments.  Ellsworth had an interest in military history and admired the Zouaves, a flamboyant, but lethal, Algerian fighting force which served in the French army and he wanted his unit to reflect that tradition. He designed uniforms for his men which resembled the Zouave’s, including their baggy trousers and red embellishments, and he instilled in the new soldiers a sense of the Zouave camaraderie that would enable them to fight as a team. His unit became known as the “Fire Zouaves” and quickly won the respect of staff Generals in Washington DC. His success with the New York regiment, and the recommendations of his former commanders, resulted in Elmer’s quick promotion to Colonel in the Union Army; and he was given a critical assignment.

Colonel Ellsworth was placed in charge of one of the detachments which guarded the White House and the President.

Because of his daily proximity to the Lincoln family, and his gregarious nature, Elmer and the two younger Lincoln boys became regular companions when Elmer was off-duty. He even won over Mary Todd Lincoln, which was never easy. During that time, while the young officer was always respectful of his duties and the President’s position, the two men also became close friends. The very tall Lincoln, at about six feet four inches, towered over the five-foot, six-inch Ellsworth, as they periodically strolled the grounds of the White House in quiet conversations. But, while we do not know of what they spoke, it is noteworthy that Lincoln later referred to his friend as “The greatest little man I ever met.”

On Thursday afternoon, May 23rd, Colonel Ellsworth attended a staff meeting and was given his group’s mission for the next day. The state of Virginia had just announced that its citizens had voted to secede from the United States and that meant that Washington DC was vulnerable to attack as Virginia lay just across the Potomac River. Colonel Elmer and his men, along with other Federal units, were to cross the river and occupy the city of Alexandria, Virginia.

That evening, Elmer Ellsworth wrote a letter to his parents, expressing his love for them and included this paragraph.

“We do not know what we will be met with, but I am inclined to be optimistic. If it may be that I am injured in some manner, cherish this consolation that I was engaged in the performance of a sacred duty. I am perfectly content to accept whatever any future may be.”

On Friday, May 24, 1861, Colonel Ellsworth led his men across the river into the new Confederate state of Virginia and into the town of Alexandria, which they were expected to secure as a protective buffer for Washington DC. The Union soldiers were able to rapidly deploy within Alexandria as they encountered no armed resistance, and hardly any verbal protests. So far, it was a peaceful occupation of the enemy city.

For the past several weeks, a large Confederate flag had flown from the roof of the Marshall House Hotel in Alexandria; a sight that could be seen from Washington DC and which irritated some Northern politicians and military leaders.  At some point, Colonel Ellsworth decided to go to the hotel and remove the flag; and he selected four soldiers to accompany him. As the group entered the lobby, those patrons who were there simply stepped aside. Ellsworth bounded up the stairs, located the passage to the roof, and lowered the Confederate flag. As he was descending the stairs back to the lobby, carrying the flag, the owner of the hotel suddenly appeared with a gun and shot Colonel Ellsworth.

The Union soldiers fired back and killed the assailant, but they could not save their commander. Elmer Ellsworth, at only twenty-four years old, died instantly; and became one of the earliest Union soldiers, and the first Union officer, to lose his life in the Civil War. However, as we now know, there would be hundreds of thousands more who also did not come home!

Colonel Ellsworth’s body was taken to the White House where the President was presented with the confiscated flag. In a solemn ceremony, Abraham Lincoln and his family would mourn the loss of their friend. Personally, Lincoln was devastated, and on May 25th, penned this letter (in part) to the soldier’s parents.

“To the Father and Mother of Col. Elmer E. Ellsworth,

My dear Sir and Madam,

In the untimely loss of your noble son, our affliction here, is scarcely less than your own. So much of promised usefulness to one’s country, and of bright hopes for one’s self and friends, have rarely been so suddenly dashed, as in his fall. In size, in years, and in youthful appearance, a boy only, (but) his power to command men was surprisingly great. This power, combined with a fine intellect, an indomitable energy, and a taste altogether military, constituted in him, as it seemed to me, the best natural talent, in that department, I ever knew. And yet he was singularly modest and deferential. My acquaintance with him began less than two years ago; yet through the latter half of the intervening period, it was as intimate as the disparity of our ages would permit. To me, he appeared to have no indulgences, I never heard him utter an intemperate word. What was conclusive of his good heart, he never forgot his parents. The honors he labored for so laudably, and in the end, so gallantly gave his life, he meant for them, no less than for himself. In the hope that it may be no intrusion upon the sacredness of your sorrow, I have ventured to address you this tribute to the memory of my young friend, and your brave and early fallen child. May God give you the consolation which is beyond all earthly power.

Sincerely, your friend in a common affliction.

A Lincoln”

In memoriam for Colonel Elmer Ellsworth and all of those many others who, since the American Revolution began over 250 years ago, gave their lives in service to our Country. May they rest in peace.

Escape Aboard the Planter (Article 92)

“I wanted freedom, but would leave only with my family”- Robert Smalls

 “If he would die, I would die with him” – Hanna, wife of Robert Smalls

 Compared to most slaves in South Carolina, Robert Smalls lived a relatively safe existence. His owner was Henry McKee who seemed to favor Robert, as well as Robert’s mother, who was a house servant. As Robert grew into his teen years, Mr. McKee gave him jobs of increasing responsibility; however, Robert was still clearly a slave and Mr. McKee was clearly his master. Some historians speculate that Robert’s father may have been Mr. McKee, a son of McKee, or a White manager named Smalls; however, in any case, Robert’s mother was certainly a victim of a male master taking advantage over a female slave. Robert grew up in a small cabin behind Mr. McKee’s main house in Charleston, South Carolina. He said later that his mother, at some point, asked Mr. McKee to send him to a plantation for a while; probably so that he could experience the more severe deprivations prevalent among slaves on those farms. She evidently did not want Robert to ever take his favored status for granted. After a short stint as a farm worker, when he was about thirteen, he was sent to work on Charleston’s docks and, over time, progressed through related trades such as longshoreman and sails rigger.

 Soon his skill, and knowledge of the harbor, was recognized and he became a wheelman, which was similar to a ship’s pilot; except that slaves were not allowed to use that professional title. Robert had learned the idiosyncrasies of the large harbor and the many tributaries, which were critical to guiding vessels safely through the various water depths and submerged rocks; and by the age of twenty, he was in steady demand by various ship owners who needed to navigate the harbor and shoreline. Of course, as a slave, his wages were paid to his owner; but in keeping with the favorable relationship between this slave and his master, Robert received a portion of the earnings. In 1856, when Robert was seventeen, he was allowed to marry Hanna Jones, also a slave, who was owned by a man who ran a local hotel.  Hanna was five years older than Robert and brought two daughters to the marriage, who were also slaves owned by Hanna’s’ master. The girls were probably fathered by their owner or one of his relatives; therefore, Hanna was a victim as was Robert’s mother. The couple was permitted to live in a small house near the hotel, probably an upgrade from Robert’s prior slave quarters, and the couple then had two children of their own; however, one died in infancy.  Over time, Robert hoped to buy freedom for himself and his family, and he and Mr. McKee and Hanna’s owner had even agreed upon a price; however, the total price went up with each child and, by the time the Civil War started, he had not been able to save enough.

 But Charleston harbor was bustling and the demand for his services as a wheelman (pilot) kept him busy and increased his already fine reputation as a reliable shipmate. In October 1861, Robert became the wheelman for the Confederate ship, CSS Planter, a small steam-driven ship which was armed with several weapons. The ship’s duties included transportation of men and equipment throughout Charleston Bay and into tributaries along the South Carolina coast. Although Northern ships had instituted a naval blockade of the harbor early in the Civil War, the area they tried to cover was so large that ships like the Planter moved with relative impunity.

 For now, Robert had a steady job and a home for his family, but he was a slave and he and his family were owned by another human being.

 Robert knew that he wanted to be free and, in the spring of 1862, began to plan an escape. Since he had been given wide latitude by his owner to move about independently, Robert could probably have managed to escape by himself. After all, he knew the territory, and such singular escapes were happening with some regularity now that the Civil War was entering its second year.

 However, Robert would not leave his family, which now included his wife Hanna and three children; so, he needed a plan that would include all five of them. He knew, of course, that an escape with five travelers would be much more complicated, and dangerous, than if he went alone. He told his family that any opportunity to leave would be fleeting and that they would have to be ready on a moment’s notice. He did not know when or where that opportunity would come, but he was constantly assessing situations. He confided in a few other slaves, who were often part of the crew of the Planter, and who he believed he could trust with his family’s lives.

      Mathew Brady Photograph

 He decided that his best chance to escape South Carolina was by sea and that the Planter would be the best ship to use. This was not just a decision to remain a slave or try to reach freedom, but also a decision of life and death. If caught stealing a Confederate Naval vessel, more likely than not, Robert Smalls would have been executed, as would the other slaves who helped him. His wife and children would have, at a minimum, been punished and likely sold to separate new owners. Robert’s decisions could not have been easy.

 The Planter was used by the Confederate Navy to move troops and equipment around Charleston and to lay mines throughout the harbor. Robert was trusted by the Planter’s Captain, C.J. Relyea, to guide the ship on these missions. Certainly, on occasion, Robert could look out over the bay and see the U.S. Naval vessels which formed an irregular and constantly adjusting blockade about seven miles outside the harbor.

 On May 12, 1862, Robert guided the Planter to a Confederate coastal station to retrieve some cannon and ammunition for a fort in Charleston Harbor, then docked back at the ship’s station at the Charleston Warf.

 At the time he did not know exactly when he might seize the Planter because the White Officers were under orders to always have at least one officer on board. But he wanted to execute his plan soon, so he had his family go to the wharf and hide on an empty ship which was nearby.

 He would wait for the right opportunity.

 We do not know if he, and the other slaves who agreed to his plan, would have been willing to try to overpower the officers to gain control of the ship; but they did not need to make that decision as fate intervened. Disobeying their orders, that same night, Captain Relyea and the other two officers, left the ship to go into town, perhaps to visit their families, and left Smalls and the slave crew on board.

 Robert Smalls saw his chance and he took it!

Starting about 3am, on May 13th, the crew maneuvered the Planter along the wharf’s edge to the ship where he had stowed his family. There were seven other slaves in the crew who decided to cast their lot with Robert Smalls and his family, and those slaves had also managed to have their family members join Hanna and her children on the other vessel. The Planter was a noisy ship, which billowed smoke and embers, so there was no way to sneak past the several sentry posts in the harbor. Instead, Smalls hoped to disguise himself as Captain Relyea and convince the sentries that the Planter was on a routine night mission. Such trips were common because it was easier to evade the Union Naval blockade at night. Smalls wore one of Captain Relyea’s jackets and donned a large straw hat that was similar to one that the Captain often wore. In the dark, and from some distance, he had to hope that the sentries would not notice that it was a Black man, not the White Captain, who was in charge of the ship. Since Robert was familiar with the harbor’s sentry points and knew the signal codes which allowed the Confederate ships to pass, the Planter and its passengers began to pass sentry points on its voyage our of Charleston Bay. His final sentry post was at Fort Sumter and, after giving the proper signal to that fort’s sentries, he was cleared to pass into open water about 4:30 am.

 But he was not safe yet!

Robert’s next problem was how to approach one of the large Union warships, in a Confederate naval vessel, without being fired upon. He fashioned a large white flag from a bed sheet his wife had brought; and hoped for the best. The first Union ship he encountered was the USS Onward and upon seeing the smaller ship approach, the sentinel crew on the Onward sounded the battle alarm and cannons were prepared to fire on the Planter. It was so dark that even the white bed sheet was not immediately visible; but then, after a few tense moments, the sunrise began and provided just enough illumination for a sailor of the Onward to spot the white flag.

 How close were the escapees to being blown out of the water? A witness reported, “Just as No. 3 port gun was being elevated, someone cried out, ‘I see something that looks like a white flag’; …….. As she neared us, we looked in vain for the face of a white man. When they discovered that we would not fire on them, there was a rush of contrabands (slaves) out on her deck, some dancing, some singing, whistling, jumping; and others stood looking towards Fort Sumter, and muttering all sorts of maledictions against it. As the steamer came near, and under the stern of the Onward, one of the Colored men stepped forward, and taking off his hat, shouted, ‘Good morning, sir! I've brought you some of the old United States guns, sir!” It was Robert Smalls who shouted the greeting. 

The Captain of the Onward went on board the Planter and was met by Smalls who formally introduced himself and asked if the Captain might have an extra American flag that could be raised on the former Confederate ship.

 Robert and his family were free! He was only twenty-three years old!

 Almost immediately, Robert was able to provide valuable information to the Union forces about the Confederate operations and shipping schedules within the Charleston area.

 Meanwhile, back on the wharfs in Charleston, the loss of the Planter was discovered and the three officers who left their ship against clear orders were arrested. After an investigation and military trial, Captain Relyea was convicted of dereliction, but the charge was subsequently dropped. It appears that the Confederate government was reluctant to air the issue publicly for two reasons; (1) they did not want to encourage other similar escapes, but (2) they could not comprehend that a slave could so dupe Southern naval officers, not only Captain Relyea, but also all of the sentry positions. In fact, there was speculation that several White men must have planned and executed Small’s escape, but Robert Smalls needed no such help!

 The U.S. Navy had a program to reward those who captured Confederate vessels and Robert and his crew of other former slaves were awarded the prize. Robert received $1,500.00, an amount that gave he and his family the first financial security they had ever known. And, he had a new job, for which all of the money he earned was his. He became a civilian employee of the U.S. Navy and would be a ship’s pilot, a title never permitted him as a slave in the south. His hope was to stay with the Planter, but it needed refitting before use by the U.S. Navy, so he was assigned to another ship in the interim. Later, he was reunited with the Planter until the end of the war.

 But before he could sail for the U.S. Navy, Robert was used in other capacities. His story was so compelling that political and military leaders in the North wanted Robert to tour major cities to raise money for the war effort; and he was a successful fund raiser. Also, a few wanted to use Robert’s new found fame for a second purpose; to encourage Abraham Lincoln, Secretary of War Stanton, and reluctant members of Congress to allow former slaves and African American freemen to join the Union Army and Navy. However, we do not know how much influence Robert had on that decision, because it would be another year before Black units were formed.

 Robert continued service with the U.S. Navy and at one point, may have been given a temporary commission, and designated as a ship’s Captain. While Robert participated in nearly twenty naval battles and/or skirmishes over the next three years, the Navy never recognized that his officer commission was legal and insisted that he was always a civilian under contract with the Navy. This rankled Robert and he applied several times for a Navy pension, not for the small amount of money he might gain, but to force the Navy to consider his service as military, not just civilian.  Finally, in 1897, by an act of Congress, not by the U.S. Navy, Robert Smalls was granted a pension equal to that of a Navy Captain.

 For Robert, that would have to do.

 After the War ended, in 1865, Robert settled with his family back in South Carolina where he purchased the house owned by his former master at a tax sale.  

 Robert became a leader of the state’s reconstruction Republican Party and was first elected to the South Carolina legislature and later was elected to became a member of the U.S. House of Representatives. Additionally, Robert started several successful businesses, including a short-line railroad and a newspaper, and became a federal collector of port fees, a position he held for over twenty years. By 1875, he was also in the forefront of the battles in South Carolina between those who wanted to reform the old south, and former Confederates who opposed civil rights and sought to return to a White dominated society. The political rhetoric was harsh, the Ku Klux Klan terrorized the former slaves, and, over time, Black office-holders like Robert Smalls began to lose elections. While his political influence waned, he remained active in his community of Beaufort until his death at age seventy-five in 1915.

 While his life after the Civil War was exceptionally productive, it was his daring seizure of the Planter, and the harrowing passage out of Charleston Harbor to freedom, which earned Robert Smalls a well-deserved place in history.

The Great Train Caper (Article 91)

In April 1862, a small group of Union soldiers and spies commandeered a locomotive from a Southern train which was running north through Georgia toward Tennessee. A few Confederates took chase after the locomotive, which was named the “General” and, at times, the resulting affair resembled “Keystone Cops vs. Robbers” more than a military operation.

 But it was deadly serious and it became known in folklore as “The Great Locomotive Chase!” Or, to some, “Andrews’ Raid.”

 In the first year of the Civil War, there were battles which temporarily interrupted rail service, but in much of the North and the South, civilian built train systems continued to serve passengers, as well as the military. In the Northern states, the systems were better developed with more options for North/South and East/West connections between towns. On the other hand, the Southern railway systems were limited to a few short east/west routes, with only one link that could run from the Mississippi River eastward through Tennessee and other Southern states to the Atlantic Ocean. There were a few more Southern railways which ran North/South and linked major cities primarily for the transport of goods. The Western and Atlantic Railway Company ran one such line on a regular schedule between Atlanta, Georgia and Chattanooga, Tennessee and it usually included at least one passenger car; however, on April 12, 1862, the train schedule was interrupted. Union operatives had decided to steal the locomotive!

 Actually, the engine was just a useful tool, and its theft was not the primary mission. The plan was to destroy telegraph lines and railroad tracks behind the locomotive as it was driven northward; and, if possible, to also destroy bridges and watering stations along the route. If successful, the destruction would render the rail line unusable by the Confederacy to move soldiers and heavy weapons to support their forces in Tennessee and Virginia.

 The idea was conceived by a Union scout (and spy) James Andrews who convinced Union Generals that his plan would aid the Union advances by depriving the Confederates of the ability to rapidly re-deploy forces into Tennessee battle areas. The destruction would be timed to coordinate with a strike by Union forces toward Chattanooga. While an alternative plan was discussed to simply send a few saboteurs to blow-up a bridge, Andrews believed more wide-spread destruction was necessary to prevent the Confederates from quickly reconnecting telegraph wires and reopening the rail line with a few track repairs. Assuming their plan worked, for which there were no guarantees, when the train neared Chattanooga after their destructive run north, the operatives would find their way back to Union lines. The proposed mission was certainly considered dangerous, but Andrews and General Ormsby Mitchell, who commanded the Union troops in Tennessee, believed it was possible. And, evidently, to them, it was worth the risk! Andrews was authorized to assemble a party of up to twenty-five volunteers, including soldiers from the Union Army. Leaving Union lines in middle Tennessee, the men scattered along different routes toward a planned rendezvous near a fuel and water stop few miles north of Atlanta. All of the operatives wore civilian clothes to blend in with the local populations who they might encounter along the way. It was agreed that even if a few of the volunteers failed to reach the destination by April 11, the remaining men would still execute their mission. As it turned out, only two did not make it in time to join their team.

 They chose to intercept the train at Big Shanty, where the train would take on water and fuel, and any passengers would also dis-embark from their railcar to get refreshments. Equally important, Big Shanty was the one stop with no telegraph operator!

When the train, pulled by the locomotive, General, came into Big Shanty, and, after the passengers entered the station, the raiders struck! They quickly uncoupled the passenger cars, and took off with the General, a tender, and three box cars. It is important to note that these trains could not go very fast, both by design limitations and due to the terrain, which was hilly and had many curves. The raiders were aware of the lack of speed on the route and did not foresee that as a problem. But they had not planned on one stubborn conductor! Irate at the theft of his train, William Fuller took off in a sprint after the train; and he was in good enough physical condition to stay within sight of the General. He later said that he was not certain what he would do if he caught it because he was aware there were numerous armed men now on board. But he continued to run behind the General, and was joined by two others. After about a mile, with the General still in sight, Fuller found a manual hand car on a short siding and he and his crew boarded it and continued to chase the General. Pumping the handles on the hand cart was not only much easier than running, it was also a bit faster.

 Decisions in wartime must be made on the fly and James Andrews faced his first decision, which was not part of the plan, when they encountered an older locomotive, the Yonah on another siding. He considered stopping to destroy that engine, but there were several workmen around and he did not want a firefight (yet) so he chose to continue north. In another stroke of bad luck, there had been a series of rain storms along the route and the wooden bridges, which Andrews had planned to set afire, were so wet that they would not burn. They even tried to burn one bridge by leaving one of the box cars on it, in which they had managed to start a small fire. However, the fire fizzled out and the pursuers easily pushed the box car aside. Andrews might have been able to start more combustible fires if he could have stopped to search for dry kindling, but he did not have the luxury of extra time. Unfortunately for Andrews, he needed to keep precisely to the train’s regular schedule; which might seem incongruous since he had just stolen it, but he had no choice!

 These train routes were single tracks which served both Northbound and Southbound traffic. Interspersed along the way were sidings where one train would be scheduled to pull over to let a train going the opposite direction pass on the main line. Pulling off on a siding was based on exacting timetables and missing a siding could lead to a head to head collision. Therefore, Andrews was forced to keep to the General’s published schedule. At each stop, Andrews told dispatchers and crews that they were Confederate contractors who were taking munitions and supplies to Southern forces defending Chattanooga. Since Andrews had cut telegraph lines along the way, the ruse worked because the dispatchers were not receiving any news of the raid from stations the General had already passed.

Sooner, not later, however, the Union raiders needed to begin to destroy the tracks behind them, which was their primary mission after all. But that meant stopping, which would disrupt the schedule; and they knew someone from Big Shanty was still following them.

 But an unforeseen circumstance, not a tactical decision, finally forced Andrews to stop the General. They came upon a station master, who had received orders from Confederate Generals in Chattanooga to hold all northbound trains to allow the passage of several special southbound trains. As it turned out, these trains were used to evacuate men and materiel out of the Chattanooga area further south to better defensive positions across the Georgia state line. As a result, Andrews was forced to wait on a siding. In the meantime, the dogged Fuller and his crew were gaining on the General! Fuller was able to abandon their hand-car when they came upon the Yonah, which Andrews had decided to leave undamaged; and they were able to get that old locomotive on the main line and continued the chase.

 Just as Fuller was about to close on Andrews, the station master finally let the General back on the main line. Andrews had his men damage a rail soon after they pulled out and Fuller could not drive the Yonah over the broken track. Not ready to give up, he again set out running after General. He spotted another locomotive, the William Smith on a siding and, after getting it back on the main line, drove that engine in pursuit of the General. But Fuller soon encountered another section of track which Andrews had damaged; so, Fuller now had to abandon the William Smith, but the determined conductor still would not give up. He ran almost another mile until he found the southbound locomotive “Texas” on a siding. Andrews had earlier convinced the crew of the Texas to permit the General to pass, using, again, the story that they were taking needed arms to the Confederate Army. Although the Texas was pointed south, Fuller decided to run the engine in reverse, tender car first; and he also convinced several nearby Confederate soldiers to join him on the Texas.

The pursuit began again and the Great Locomotive Chase was on! Andrews now not only had a determined adversary, but the Texas engine speed could match the General’s. Andrews no longer had time to stop and damage rails. He needed to get his men closer to Chattanooga so that they could escape back to Union lines.

 One of the Union operatives, William Pittenger, wrote of the chase: “Thus we sped on, mile after mile, in this fearful chase, around curves and past stations in seemingly endless perspective. Whenever we lost sight of the enemy beyond a curve, we hoped that some of our obstructions had been effective in throwing him from the track and that we would see him no more; but at each long reach backward the smoke was again seen, and the shrill whistle was like the scream of a bird of prey.”

 Andrews knew he could no longer stop, and in fact, he could see that the Texas was now slowly gaining on the General. In a last chance to stop his pursuers, he hoped to derail the Texas by throwing one of the large wooden railroad ties, which were on board, onto the tracks. As the General rounded one very tight curve, Andrews believed that the crew of the Texas would not see the tie on the tracks in time to slow or stop the train. He had his men throw off a tie and it landed and settled across the tracks; in a perfect position which should derail the Texas. And, as Andrews hoped, the Texas could not stop in time and rammed into the tie. Fuller later wrote that, “It caused quite a jolt” and the tender (which was in the lead with the locomotive pushing), actually raised up off the tracks. But miraculously for Fuller and the Texas, the tender car came back down right on the tracks and the Texas was still in hot pursuit. Fuller also wrote that, after the “jolt”, the Confederate soldiers, who had joined him earlier, asked if they could get off the Texas and Fuller wrote that, “Their wishes were not gratified.” They were along for the ride, whether they liked it or not!

 Then, Fuller got another break, and Andrews’ bad luck continued. Fuller, noticed that he had not recently seen a downed telegraph line and, about twenty miles from Chattanooga, stopped the Texas long enough to send a telegraph message forward to a Confederate Army station. Word was now out that the General had been stolen and was travelling north on the main line; and still in the middle of Confederate held territory.

Since the General had passed up the last several water and fuel stations to stay ahead of the Texas (and Fuller), she simply ran out of steam and coasted to a stop.  Unfortunately, Andrews and his men were eighteen miles short of his planned escape route and far behind enemy lines.

 Andrews and his crew scattered, but they were too far from friendly forces and all were captured by Southern soldiers, even the two men who had missed the rendezvous back at Big Shanty. The raiders were tried in Confederate military courts and found guilty of unlawful belligerency.  The verdicts were swift and final! James Andrews was considered a spy and was sentenced to death along with seven others; and as was common with spies, they were all buried unceremoniously. The remaining raiders were considered prisoners of war, but several, who were worried they might also be hanged, managed to escape. Some made it back to Union lines but others were returned as prisoners. Finally, all of the surviving raiders were exchanged later in the war for Confederate prisoners, including Corporal Pittenger, who left us a first-hand account about the Great Chase. Later, the Union Army, as it advanced through Georgia, exhumed the bodies of those executed and they were eventually interred, with honors, at the Chattanooga National Cemetery. To show his respect for the men and the mission, Secretary of War Edwin Stanton awarded a newly authorized decoration for heroism, the Medal of Honor, to most of the soldiers, including posthumously to those executed. However, James Andrews, architect and leader of the raiders, was a civilian and, therefore, not considered eligible to receive his nation’s highest honor.

 In the end, Andrews’ Raid, or The Great Locomotive Chase, was only minimally successful in disrupting Confederate strategy, but no one can question the courage and dedication of the men involved. They all accepted that their mission was dangerous and that there might be deadly consequences; and they volunteered anyway.

And, no one can deny the persistence, tenacity, and courage of William A. Fuller, the dedicated conductor of the General! Certainly, if Fuller had not stayed on the tail of the General, Andrews would have had time to cause more permanent damage to the vital railway link. Fuller was hailed as a hero throughout the South and he remained connected to the Southern railway systems until he retired. And, for his dedication to his assigned task, he was revered by other railroaders (both North and South) for the rest of his life. 

Abe Lincoln-Father of the IRS? (Article 90)

No one likes to pay taxes, but most of us realize that the country needs revenue to operate. So, we gripe and moan, but we pay up, if not from patriotic duty, then from fear. What many do not know is that Abraham Lincoln played a role in our present-day income tax.

There have been taxes, in what is now the United States, since early colonial times. At first, the tax load was carried by industries and businesses, not by individuals, except as a pass-through in increased prices. There were tariffs (taxes on imports and exports), excise taxes (on goods transferred within a country), and fees such as stamps for official documents.  But the imposition of taxes, and efforts to collect them, have often brought conflict. In fact, the primary issue which led to the American Revolution was whether Britain had the right to impose taxes on the colonies when they were not represented in parliament.

The English Stamp Act of 1765 required all legal documents, including wills, contracts, and permits executed in the American colonies to carry a tax stamp, purportedly to cover the cost of maintaining administrative services and the military presence which protected the colonies. Americans rose up in strong protest, arguing in terms of “No Taxation without Representation” and forced Britain to repeal the stamp tax. However, British leaders still needed to raise some revenue from the colonies, not only to pay for the services and protections, but also to demonstrate control.

So, in 1767, Parliament passed laws which placed a tax on many products, including paper, paint, glass and tea imported from Great Britain or any British protectorate to the colonies.  These were not a direct tax that people paid, but a tariff (just a tax by a different name) collected from the ship's captain when the cargo was unloaded. The famous Boston Tea Party was a tax protest by colonists who raided docked ships and dumped barrels of tea into the harbor. Britain’s over-reaction helped escalate the conflict and was a factor which led to the Declaration of Independence and eventually, the Revolutionary War.

In 1790, the new American government incorporated two main sources of revenue, tariffs and excise taxes, to fund the bureaucracy, infrastructure, repay federal debts, and for the defense of the United States.  Since tariffs were relatively easy to collect at the major ports, this type of tax, on both imports and exports, remained the leading source of revenue for the United States for over 100 years. However, while excise taxes could be more difficult to collect, they were still an important revenue stream

On the other hand, it seems any form of tax, no matter what the government calls it, has always been barely tolerated, if not outright resented, and sometimes rejected, by the citizens of the country.

In fact, in the newly formed United States of America, tariffs contributed to growing divisions between Northern and Southern states. In 1824 (and again in 1828 and 1832) the federal government increased tariffs to protect American industries (primarily in the Northern states) from cheaper imports such as iron products, woven wool and cotton fabrics, and certain manufactured goods from Great Britain. Southern states objected to the increased tariffs because most of those states had negotiated reduced tariffs with Great Britain for their exports of cotton, tobacco, rice and other agricultural products grown in the South and for lower tariffs on imported finished goods. As a result of several compromises, federal import tariffs were reduced and, from 1835 until the late 1850’s, conflicts over tariffs abated between Northern and Southern states. (Of course, during that same period, conflicts over state sovereignty, the expansion of slavery, and fugitive slave laws became increasingly belligerent.)

In addition to tariffs, federal excise taxes also became a significant contributor to the U.S. treasury. In the first hundred years of the United States, excise taxes were routinely placed on a variety of products including tobacco and alcoholic beverages (the so-called sin taxes). The first organized opposition to a tax in the new country was to a seven-cent tax per gallon on the producers of whiskey. (There was a similar tax on brandy and rum, the other two less consumed beverages commonly available at that time.) The funds to be raised were to help pay down the debts incurred during the Revolutionary War; however, this tax led to the famous Whiskey Rebellion by farmers and distillers. The issue was deemed so serious that President George Washington, donned his military uniform again and led a force of militia into Pennsylvania to quash the violence.

And, for the next seventy years (1790-1860), a combination of tariffs, excise taxes, and government fees financed the operation of the United States.

But then came the Civil War!

Until then, although the Constitution gave congress the power to impose “Taxes, Duties, Imposts, and Excises,” there was a prohibition against “direct taxes” to a person. The idea of an income tax was debated in congress off and on during the time before the Civil War, but many considered it an improper, and probably an unconstitutional, tax.

However, Abraham Lincoln was a practical politician. He and his Secretary of the Treasury, Salmon Chase, were well aware of the arguments against the imposition of an income tax; but they needed money wherever they could get it. Since they knew that tariffs, excise taxes and fees would not be sufficient to cover the costs of the war, they took their request to congress for a “modest” personal income tax to be imposed, as an emergency measure, only during wartime, with repeal when the conflict ended. Congress passed, and Lincoln signed, the Revenue act of 1861 which imposed a tax of 3% on all incomes over $800 (probably about $50,000 in today’s dollars). Then, as Presidents and congresses always do, in 1862 the tax bill was revised to increase revenues by lowering the base amount to $600 and, for the first time, included a graduated tax of up to 5% for incomes over $10,000. However, since there was little government oversight of the collection of the new tax, many people chose to not pay, and it never became a significant part of the federal revenue. Also, as promised, but a bit late, Congress kept its promise and that first income tax was finally repealed in 1872, seven years after the war ended.

It should be noted that the Confederate government also passed income tax legislation, but was even more inept than the Union at collection.

 The United States did not impose a personal income tax for the next forty-one years, but the debates over the Constitutionality of such a direct tax continued. Then, in 1913, the Sixteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution, which permitted a personal income tax, was ratified by sufficient states to become law.

We have had income taxes (legally) ever since. And, in a way, we can blame Abe Lincoln for the privilege we have on April 15th (this year July 15th) of paying a portion of our personal income (an ever-increasing portion) to the Federal government. Of course, over time, most states, which also never saw a tax they did not like, established their own income tax.

Perhaps it is unfair to call old Abe the Father of the IRS, but the next time you write that check to the U.S. Treasury (IRS division), or notice the deductions from your income, you may think of him. He was a very wise man, but he certainly did not foresee how his little (temporary) tax would evolve, nor the vast bureaucracy which would be built to enforce and collect it.

For Love of His Wife (Article 89)

Many individuals had to choose which side to join in the Civil War. Most chose based on where they lived and loyalty to their region or state, some chose based on their belief in, or objection to, slavery, and others on whether they supported E Pluribus Unum or state sovereignty.

 But one chose because of his devotion to his wife.

 John Clifford Pemberton was born into a Quaker family in Pennsylvania, but his father had been torn by the dichotomy of his pacifist faith and devotion to his country; and he eventually chose to fight against the British in the War of 1812. Young John Pemberton revered his father and was determined to also serve his country; so, his father approached an old friend, President Andrew Jackson, to secure an appointment to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. Young John may have entered the academy with a zeal for accomplishments, but he soon adapted to a more casual conduct. He was outgoing, humorous, and popular with his classmates; however, he was inattentive in class, unappreciative of his instructors, and finished in the middle of his class. His less than stellar grades and nominal faculty recommendations prevented him from appointment to the most coveted assignments upon graduation in 1837. While he expressed some disappointment, he otherwise accepted his situation, and began his U.S. Army career.

 Pemberton became an effective, if not outstanding young officer, and in the 1847 Mexican War, found his true calling as a staff officer, rather than a field commander. He did not deliberately avoid combat and, on several occasions, volunteered for courier missions which exposed him to enemy fire. But, for any military campaign to be successful, someone needs to assure the soldiers have adequate rations, ammunition, and other supplies and Pemberton was good at that; and, the senior officers appreciated his thorough staff work and regularly commended his service.

 Before his service in the war with Mexico, he had been assigned to duty in Virginia and was subsequently reassigned to that Southern state. Pemberton loved the heritage of Virginia, which was the birthplace of his heroes, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and other political lions of the Nation. While there, in 1848, he married Martha (Pattie) Thompson, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, who owned several slaves that worked either as house servants or in his livery business. Pattie was attractive, very social, educated (for her time) and willingly accepted the vagaries of her husband’s military career. One contemporary noted, “They were as one. I never knew another husband and wife so devoted.” John and Patti had seven children, with five living into adulthood. However, the contrast between their two families could not have been greater; the Quaker non-slave holding family in the North and the Protestant slaveholding family in the South. Except, in this case, John loved Pattie’s family and Pattie and the children were welcomed by his family. John was neither an advocate for or against slavery and he just seemed to accept it as a southern way of life. Upon their marriage, Mr. Thompson gave a female slave to Pattie to serve as their cook and housekeeper, and she worked alongside several White servants. Although the couple often took one of the other servants during their frequent visits to his parent’s home, they never had the slave accompany them on the trips. Both sides must have recognized the potential for conflict and, carefully, avoided it. And those close bonds between husband and wife, and between the two families, would remain through the most divisive period in American history, during which many other families were torn apart; the American Civil War!

 Although there are numerous photographs of John, there are very few of Patti. This photo of John was taken soon after he joined the Confederate Army in May 1861 and the undated picture of Pattie is likely from about that same time; when she was 34 years old.

Not many letters between John and Pattie have survived, but the few which have, show true love and devotion. In one, Pattie ended a routine letter with, “My love for you is boundless, my dear husband.” And in a letter sent to Pattie while away on an assignment, John wrote, “The task is difficult but made tolerable by my thoughts of you and the hope that we will soon be together.”

 Before the Civil War, Pemberton served in several assignments in the midwestern frontier states, leading small garrisons or serving in logistical staff positions. Pattie was able to accompany him on those assignments, but she did frequently return to Virginia for family visits and would often also spend time with John’s family in Pennsylvania.  On occasion, John would take leave and accompany her to both her home and to visit his family. Their longest separation probably occurred when John was assigned to lead a detachment in Utah to help settle issues which were arising between the growing Mormon settlement and the Federal government over the use of open lands.  Pemberton was successful in Utah and in his other assignments and, overall, was considered an effective, if not exceptional, officer by his superiors in the United States Army.

 However, as the prospect for Civil War loomed in early 1861, John faced a dilemma, as did his adopted state of Virginia. When the Confederate States of America was formed, neither John Pemberton nor Virginia made hasty decisions. After the Confederates fired on Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor in April, the Virginia legislature decided to put the question of secession to a public vote and, in the meantime, John Pemberton wrestled with his own choices. His family urged him to either stay in the Union Army or leave the army and try to sit out the war. On the other hand, Pattie would have been devasted if he fought against Virginians, so she and her family hoped he would decide to not serve in either army or would stand with Virginia if the state seceded from the Union. We do not know what private conversations he and Pattie may have had about his future, but during the months of April and May, 1861, John Pemberton must have agonized over his options. In May 1861, Virginia voted to secede and it was time for his decision. As he wrote later in his life, his decision was neither quick nor easy, but his love for his wife made the difference. He resigned from the U.S. Army and offered his services to the Governor of Virginia and the state’s militia.

 During the first months of the war, depending upon circumstances, Pemberton was variously appointed as a Brigadier General, Lt. Colonel and Colonel; a common situation caused by assignments both within the state militia and Confederate Army. He was initially posted in Richmond, Virginia, close to his wife and children, and helped train new recruits.  During this time, Pemberton became acquainted with Confederate President, Jefferson Davis, and the two men became close; or as close as anyone could become to the irascible Confederate leader. And, they did have one trait in common; absolute stubbornness. Jefferson Davis was quoted as saying, “I have an infirmity of which I am heartily ashamed. When I am aroused in a matter, I lose control of my feelings and become personal.” And, John Pemberton once said, “I cannot always bear reproach though I deserve it.”  Some historians attribute the friendship between the two men to Pattie’s family connections, while some look to the fact that both men were West Pointers. However, others believe that it was not a close friendship at all and believe that Davis saw an opportunity to use John Pemberton as a tool. That would not have been unusual, since Northern born army officers, who resigned their commissions to serve the Confederacy, were touted as examples of validation of the secessionist cause.

 But, whatever Davis’s logic, he protected Pemberton from other officers and politicians who suspected the sincerity of the Yankee’s devotion to the Confederacy; and these were not a few! In fact, there were many who doubted Pemberton’s loyalty, including Joseph E. Johnston, one of the South’s most senior Generals, who would later become Pemberton’s commanding officer. Since Jefferson Davis and General Johnston despised each other, John Pemberton, on several occasions, found himself caught between these two powerful men.

 In a move he later regretted, President Davis insisted that Pemberton be assigned to the Charleston, South Carolina region under the command of General Robert E. Lee, who was highly regarded by South Carolinians. Through no particular fault of Pemberton’s, after General Lee was reassigned to Richmond, the South Carolina political and military leaders became openly antagonistic to him. Certainly, he had made a few mis-steps during this assignment; however, the primary reason for the enmity of South Carolinians toward Pemberton was that he was a Pennsylvanian and, simply stated, they hated Yankees!

 Davis realized that he had to re-assign General Pemberton, but assured that it would not be a demotion, as some Confederate leaders hoped.  In fact, (now) Major General Pemberton would be assigned to the lead the Southern forces in the large (and important) Department of Mississippi, which also included Louisianna.

 In October 1862, Pemberton moved to Jackson, Mississippi and established his headquarters. He had some hope of retaking the city of New Orleans, which had fallen to the Union in April, 1862; however, his main concern was in northern Mississippi where Union General Ulysses S. Grant was gaining ground. One of Grant’s targets was the Confederate stronghold at Vicksburg, a strategic city on a high bluff overlooking shipping on the Mississippi River below. At some point, Pemberton decided to concentrate his forces in Vicksburg.

 Over the next several months there were numerous clashes between Union and Confederate armies in Northern Mississippi with both sides claiming a few victories, but the overall trend was a steady Union assembly around Vicksburg. It was at this point, that the feud between Jefferson Davis and General Joseph E. Johnston most impacted John Pemberton! Davis directed Pemberton to hold Vicksburg at all costs; however, General Johnston, not wanting 30,000 Confederate soldiers to become prisoners-of war, ordered Pemberton to evacuate the city.

 Infuriating Johnston, Pemberton chose to stay!

In mid-May General Grant ordered assaults on the city but failed to reach the fortified city. Then, Grant decided on a siege and, with Union forces completely surrounding Vicksburg, he cut off all supplies; and it worked. In early July, 1863, with both soldiers and civilians starving, Major General John C. Pemberton surrendered Vicksburg to General Grant.

In October, Pemberton was allowed to return to Richmond where he was welcomed home by Pattie and his children; however, he was not as well received by the military leaders of the Confederate Army. In fact, General Pemberton was not offered any positions, even as a staff officer; since most other Southern Generals were now convinced that he was at best an ineffective leader and, at worst, a traitor to their cause. Jefferson Davis was aware of the attitude of the military toward Pemberton and wrote to him that, “I thought and still think you did right to risk an army for the purpose of keeping command of even a section of the Mississippi River. Had you seceded none would have blamed; had you not made the attempt, few if any would have defended your course.” On the other hand, Davis, who had many other issues to deal with, did not yet intervene on his behalf. So, Pemberton languished in Richmond for months, and later wrote that he was buoyed only by his wife’s devotion. Having never received any offers of assignment by other Confederate Generals, in May 1864, he resigned his commission as a General and offered to serve as a private; however, he accepted a position, proposed by Jefferson Davis, as a Lt. Colonel. He was then assigned to an artillery unit, which defended Richmond. He served in that capacity until Richmond was abandoned by the Confederacy in early April 1865.

 Throughout the Civil War, he remained close to his wife’s family, as well as his own, and after the war, he settled in with Pattie and the children on a small Virginia farm provided by her family. He always maintained that, given the same circumstances, he would have made the same decisions; however, he was looked upon as a traitor by many in the North and as unreliable, or even disloyal, by many in the South. So, in essence, he became a man without a country.

 However, he had Pattie, and that seemed to be enough for John Pemberton.

 When he died in 1881, the caretakers of the Laurel Hill cemetery in Philadelphia, where most of his family had been buried, at first refused a plot for him because of his Confederate service. Following appeals by his family, internment was permitted, but in a distant corner of the cemetery, and provided there was no tombstone. His final resting place was marked only by a ground level plate. His wife died in 1907 and is buried next to him, and at that time, a tombstone with both of their names was installed.

 So, was he a traitor to the Union? Was he committed to the Southern cause? Or, was he a conflicted Confederate? All we know for sure is that John Clifford Pemberton loved his wife, and paid a price for that devotion.

General Arthur MacArthur (Article 88)

When most Americans hear the name General MacArthur, if it rings a bell at all, it usually brings an image of General Douglas MacArthur. He was the leader of the Pacific theater in WWII and was the General fired by President Truman over policies during the Korean War. He made the famous statement to Congress that, “Old soldiers never die, they just fade away.”

 But there was an earlier General MacArthur; one who fought in the Civil War. He was the father of Douglas MacArthur and his story is as compelling, and heroic, as his son’s. It is just not as well known.

 Arthur MacArthur was born in 1845 and raised near Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His father was a prominent lawyer, judge and politician. Both his mother and his father expected Arthur and his brother, Frank, to excel in school and in athletic endeavors and they did not disappoint their parents.  Arthur also became an excellent horseman and marksman, skills which would prove useful, even life-saving, later in his life. Arthur went to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point at fifteen years of age and, after graduation in 1862, first joined a Wisconsin volunteer regiment as a Second Lieutenant. The Civil War had broken out a year earlier and Arthur’s Wisconsin unit was sent to Tennessee, where Confederate and Union forces had been engaged for months, with no real advantage gained by either side. But men were dying, in numbers greater than anyone had anticipated only a few months before. Arthur was soon involved in battles at Chickamauga and Stones River and began to distinguish himself both to his men and to his superior officers. His commanding officer had praised Arthur’s leadership in several battles, noting in battle reports that he was focused, calm, and collected. As a result, he was promoted to First Lieutenant in August 1863. Then, on November 25, 1863, Lt. MacArthur found himself leading a small unit towards Missionary Ridge, near Chattanooga, Tennessee.

 His leadership would soon be tested.

 His men may have become dispirited as they fought through withering fire toward the ridge and the casualties mounted. At one point, sensing that his men were faltering, the young Lieutenant picked up the Regimental Battle flag after the bearer had fallen, shouted over and over “On Wisconsin, On Wisconsin” as he ran through Confederate fire, and planted the flag on the ridge. His actions inspired his men and the survivors stormed to the flag.  Field officers who saw his heroic actions, submitted a report that requested he be considered for the Medal of Honor. Their descriptions were so compelling that, within only a few days, the award was approved. After his heroics at Missionary Ridge, Arthur MacArthur rose rapidly through the ranks and at nineteen, he was promoted to Lt. Colonel. The Northern press, always looking for heroes, and catchy nick-names, began to refer to Arthur as the “Boy Colonel.” Such publicity was usually helpful in gaining further promotions, especially when politicians appreciated a “good hero story” for their constituents. (Note: The Confederacy also had a young soldier, Henry Burgwyn, who was called “The Boy Colonel of the Confederacy.”)

Young Arthur did not seem to take advantage of his notoriety and his letters home never mentioned his successes. He continued to lead men in battle until he was severely wounded at the Battle of Franklin (Tennessee) in November 1864. He recovered over the next few months and saw only staff duty for the rest of the Civil War. Then, as did most Union Officers when the War ended, Arthur, mustered out of the Army and returned home.

 Colonel Arthur MacArthur was only twenty years old!

 His plans were to become a lawyer, but he soon found that he was just not cut out for law school and, in 1866, rejoined the U.S. Army. His new rank was only First Lieutenant, which might seem to be a demotion; however, it was a common situation after the Civil War. The peacetime army was much smaller and most career officers were given lower ranks than they had attained during the War. His commanding officers noted his abilities and he was soon promoted to Captain; however, MacArthur, would then stay at that rank for a very long time.

 But he enjoyed military life, and was good at it.

 Ten years after the Civil War, he married Mary Hardy, the daughter of a distinguished Norfolk, Virginia family. His wife’s brothers had fought for the Confederacy and, with resentments still running deep, one refused to attend the wedding. But Arthur and Mary settled into Army life and began a family. One son died as a child, but two boys, Arthur III and Douglas thrived under their care. Like his father and mother before him, Arthur and his wife expected excellence from their sons and both boys worked hard to gain the approval of their parents. Douglas attended the U.S. Military Academy at West Point as did his father, and became a General; while his brother, Arthur III, graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy and served with distinction as a naval officer in WWI.

 Although Arthur II held the rank of Captain in peace-time, he quickly rose to the rank of Colonel during the Spanish American war and then to Brigadier General after successful missions during the short Philippine-American War in 1899. Depending on his responsibilities, he was at various times promoted temporarily to Major General. Finally, he was promoted permanently to Major General when he became the Military Governor of the Philippines in 1901. However, that position became the only military assignment of his career in which his superior considered him a failure and ordered him removed. In this case it was the new civilian Governor of the Philippines, (future President) William Howard Taft who wanted General MacArthur transferred. It seems Arthur MacArthur was as much a thorn in the side of (future President) Taft as his son Douglas would become to President Truman fifty years later. Arthur MacArthur, who had the personal goal of eventually becoming the Commanding General of all of the U.S. Army, in the interim resumed positions commanding the Pacific forces. In 1906, by then a Lt. General, he became the highest-ranking officer in the U.S. Army when the current Army Chief of Staff retired; however, (now) Secretary of War William Howard Taft quashed the appointment. Evidently, his animus toward Arthur MacArthur had not been quelled over the previous five years. Although extremely disappointed, MacArthur remained on active duty until 1909 when he retired at age 64. Ironically, the same year William Howard Taft (his long-time nemesis) became President of the United States.

 Arthur MacArthur was an inspiration to both of his sons, but especially to Douglas MacArthur who had graduated as first in his class of 1903 from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. They are one of the few fathers and sons who both reached the rank of General (or Admiral), and only one of two father/son teams to each receive the Medal of Honor. Douglas MacArthur was twice nominated for the Medal of Honor for heroism during WWI, but received other citations, and then again during WWII when the Medal of Honor was approved. (The only other father/son recipients of the Medal of Honor were Theodore Roosevelt for service in the Spanish American War and his son, Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. in WWII).

 While not a famous as his son, General Douglas MacArthur, General Arthur MacArthur was a true American hero.

 In 1912, the retired General was to be the keynote speaker at the fiftieth reunion of the 24th Wisconsin and was at the podium standing next to the tattered Regimental flag he had hoisted over the Confederate position after his rallying charge. He collapsed and died, almost instantly. When the several doctors who were in attendance determined the General had died, the others on the podium, all men in their 60s and 70s, wrapped his body in the flag he had carried at Missionary Ridge.

 He had lived a life in service to his country, and died among the men he heroically led.

 The first General MacArthur deserves to be remembered.

The Yankee Poet - Walt Whitman (Article87)

“You are either to abolish slavery, or it will abolish you”– Walt Whitman, addressing Southern politicians.

 “The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.” – Whitman on his aspirations

 “The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;” – From “Oh Captain, My Captain” Whitman’s moving poem on the tragic death of Abraham Lincoln

Later in his life he became a central figure in American literature, after his death he was crowned by academia as a poetic genius, and, even today, his poems and free verse are studied, and admired, by many. But he struggled to find his place in the mid-19th century. He was born in 1819, a middle son with six brothers and, at age eleven, ended his formal schooling to help support his family. He worked at several newspapers, learning to set type, and other mechanically necessary tasks of the printing business, but also began to include his own essays and some early poetry in the publications. His commentary was often controversial and, on more than one occasion, cost him his job. He was a teacher for a while but admitted he was not very good at it and often only stayed at a school for a short time. His family, while not wealthy, helped support him during those periods when he was not gainfully employed, and he would even periodically move back to his father’s Brooklyn home or the home of one of his brothers.

But he believed in his ability to speak for the common man through his essays, poetry, and occasional fictional story; so, he continued to write for them. In about 1845, Whitman began to express his aversion to slavery, but not because he was concerned with the plight of the slave as he was no abolitionist. He was only concerned that slave-labor could harm working class Americans. He joined the “Free Soil” movement which held, as a central premise, that the expansion of slavery would threaten the opportunities for livelihood of free White workers as businesses expanded into the western territories. He became a vocal, and published, spokesman for the so called “Barnburners” of the northern Democratic party and he was even a delegate to the Free Soil Party’s convention in 1848. Their rhetoric was, however, so narrowly focused on threats to White workers, that those who wanted to abolish slavery distanced themselves from the movement. William Lloyd Garrison, a leading abolitionist, labeled the Free Soilers’ position as “Whitemanism” and declared them to be enablers of continued slavery in the South.

 But by the early 1850s, his poetry became less political and he began to expound more on provocative social issues. In 1855, he self-published a collection of poems and essays titled “Leaves of Grass” and soon found himself the center of attention (some good and some not so good) among the literary leaders of the day. His work was praised by no less than Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau, but was panned by many in the popular press. His most vociferous critics, however, were the clergy and moralistic politicians. By today’s standards “Leaves of Grass” is at most suggestive; but to many in that era, it was considered obscene. The book was not an instant financial success and Whitman had to continue working as an editor; however, over the next two years, the resulting publicity made the book a best-seller. And, as sales climbed, he was finally recognized as a notable poet. For the next ten years, Whitman regularly produced an expanded edition of “Leaves of Grass” with additional new poems; and, with each new edition, his legion of readers grew.

Whitman during the Civil War- Mathew Brady Photograph

As Civil War loomed in 1860, he began to write more about the unity of the nation and the threat posed by secessionists; and he became dedicated to preservation of the Union. He did not support the war as a means to abolish slavery and only opposed the expansion of slavery to new states or territories. He thought Civil War, if and/or when it came, should only focus on returning seceded states to the Union. For that reason, and that reason alone, he believed the war was necessary. Whitman contemplated service in the Union Army when the Civil War broke out, but he was forty years old and had never been very vigorous. However, his younger brother, George, joined the Army and George’s letters led Whitman to write a new poem titled, “Beat! Beat! Drums!” which extolled the sacrifice of young men who left hearth and home to preserve the Union. The poem became popular at rallies throughout the North.

 However, his brother’s service led to a new, very different chapter in the life of Walt Whitman. In December 1862, he was reading the “New York Tribune” and saw the name, First Lt. G. Whitmore, listed as wounded in Virginia. He became convinced that it must be a mis-spelling of his brother’s name because he had not received a letter for about two weeks; so, Walt set out on a southern trek to find his brother. Once he crossed into Pennsylvania, with the exception of an occasional ride with a farmer, he had to walk the rest of the way, since public transportation was not available. Whenever he would encounter Union soldiers, he would inquire about his brother’s New York unit. At one point, his questions caused an officer to suspect he might be a Confederate spy, but, after a few tense moments, Whitman was able to convince the officer that he was earnestly trying to find his brother. He later wrote, “I was trying to get information and trying to get access to big people (Generals) who could direct me.” After two weeks on the road, he remarkably located George in a field hospital and the two had an emotional, but brief reunion. As it turned out, George had been slightly wounded, but would return to his unit within a few days.

 Walt, however, could not go home!

The horrific scenes of wounded and dying young men, stacks of amputated limbs, and bloodied doctors and nurses working without enough rest at the field hospital, shook Walt Whitman to his core. He decided to travel to Washington DC and offer whatever service he could to help those who were wounded while fighting to preserve the Union. He quickly found his “calling” and Walt Whitman became a nurse!

 At that time, there was no preparatory medical training for nurses, just very difficult on the job experience, and male nurses were valued because they could attend to men with more “sensitive” injuries. He found a part time job in a government office that would allow him to spend 8-10 hours every day as a nurse in area hospitals. In 1863, trying to describe his ongoing compassionate, but difficult task, Whitman wrote an essay “The Great Army of the Sick” which was published in newspapers throughout the Northern states. His dedication to his nursing duties bordered on zeal and won him the admiration and praise from many of his countrymen; however, there were those who could not forgive his “moral lapses” found in some of his poems. Secretary of Treasury, Salmon Chase spoke out against Whitman because of the “disreputable” content in “Leaves of Grass” and Secretary of the Interior James Harlan even sought his dismissal from his part time work for the same reason. But nothing deterred Whitman from his medical mission.

Then, the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in April 1865, moved Walt Whitman to write two of his most famous poems. Whitman revered Lincoln and credited the sixteenth President with preserving the Union. He wrote the poem, “Oh Captain! My Captain” as a heartfelt tribute.

 “O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.”

About the same time, Whitman wrote a much longer poem titled “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d” in which he describes the grief of ordinary citizens as Lincoln’s funeral train passed small villages on its long route to Springfield. Interestingly, he never mentioned Lincoln’s name in either poem, both of which were, essentially, eulogies to the slain President.

 Even after the Civil War ended, Whitman continued to serve in hospitals caring for wounded soldiers for another year. He once wrote that his duties would end when the hospitals were empty of those he called “Lincoln’s men.”

 While Whitman admired Abraham Lincoln, they had never met; he frequently saw the President riding in a carriage and was present at the Second Inaugural Address.  He believed that Lincoln appropriately dealt with the states in rebellion; first by pushing the war to defeat the Confederacy, but then by being willing to welcome the prodigal states back into the Union. He also said that he appreciated Lincoln’s eloquence as a writer and speaker; however, to Whitman, although Lincoln had accepted the great mantle of Presidential responsibility, he was the quintessential common man.

 On the other hand, Whitman himself was a bit of an eccentric who held, and wrote of, unorthodox ideas for his time. He believed in public nudity, often bathed in frigid waters, was skeptical of religious dogma, promoted the consumption of only meat, and he sought the private company of both women and men. So, in his day, he had his share of critics, both of his lifestyle and of his literature.

 Today, while Whitman is still admired by many for his literary genius, he is, unfortunately, criticized by some in academia for failing to use his celebrity and his literary platform to oppose slavery, and the Jim Crow laws which followed, in the Southern states. However, he was a product of his times and such criticism seems unfair. After all, Walt Whitman was foremost a poet, not a political leader.  

 And, I am grateful to those humanities teachers who, long ago, forced me, as reluctant as I was, and I was very reluctant, to read his works.  

A Presidents’Day Rant (Special Edition)

In 1971, the Uniform Monday Holiday Act moved certain federal holidays from a calendar date to assure they always fell on a Monday; which resulted in three-day weekends for most of us. Nothing wrong with that; except that the reason behind specific holidays is sometimes blurred. These special commemorative days were originally designated for reflection and remembrance, but now have become simply another day for shopping (commercialization) or for camping, barbeques, and games (recreation).  I suppose I should be grateful that Congress, in its zeal to create three-day weekends, could not find a way to change the 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Veterans Day, or Christmas to Mondays. (But I would bet a few Congressmen tried.)

 Thankfully, on Memorial Day (now always a Monday) many still remember those lost in service to our Country; however, Presidents’ Day is nearly devoid of any meaningful and respectful displays.

 And, I think as a Nation, we have lost something.

 From the early 1800s, the Country recognized George Washington’s birth date, February 22, and “Washington’s Day” celebrations often resembled Fourth of July patriotic events. Soon after Abraham Lincoln’s death in 1865, many states, but certainly not those in the deep South, began to celebrate his birth date of February 12. For the next hundred years we recognized the contributions of both men on their birthdays; however, the 1971 Holiday Act changed the two specials days and they were morphed into one Monday holiday. Actually, the official federal designation is “Washington’s Birthday” with no mention of Lincoln; because some Southern Congressmen objected to proposals that the special day be named as Washington-Lincoln Day.

 The retail industry, however, recognized that the public now had a three-day holiday to shop in what had historically been a slow retail month; and they began to advertise “Presidents’ Day” sales. Now we often see images of Washington and Lincoln adorning advertisements for the holiday sales; a few of which are in patriotic layouts, but unfortunately many are cartoonish caricatures.  By in large, as a nation, we no longer pay tribute to these two great Americans on this Monday holiday.

 I wish we would. Perhaps we can pause to remember that George Washington and Abraham Lincoln deserve our appreciation and admiration. If we choose, we can also make the holiday a teaching moment by discussing with youngsters the reasons why we celebrate the lives of these two men and their impact on America.

 But they were very different men! Washington was well educated and wealthy, but Lincoln was neither; and Washington had a distinguished military background, but Lincoln did not. Also, Washington enjoyed broad national support (North and South) while Lincoln was ostracized in the South. In fact, in his two Presidential elections, Washington received 100% of the Electoral votes (and remains the only President to ever do so); while Lincoln received only a few Southern state electoral votes in the elections of 1860 and 1864. Their most significant difference, however, was that Washington owned slaves, and Lincoln did not! Washington did grant some slaves their freedom for “long and faithful service” before his death and the rest were freed under his will when he died.

  Unfortunately, George Washington’s entire legacy is being demeaned by some in modern academia because he owned slaves, and they conveniently disregard his invaluable service to our Country. And Lincoln, who always abhorred slavery, is also receiving criticism because some believe he did not seek to eradicate slavery until later in his life. But we need to remember that, although our generations (correctly) see slavery as unconscionable, throughout the lifetimes of both Washington and Lincoln slavery was legal in the United States; and throughout most of the world. It seems unfair to judge these two Presidents by our modern standards; and even worse, to then diminish their stature as American heroes.

 And they were quintessential heroes! Both accepted great risk by leading this country through perilous times, and they did share important and admirable attributes. It is these similarities that we should celebrate.

 First, they were both honorable and honest to their core and they both felt a deep obligation to civic duty. Further, they both believed that the United States would not survive unless the various states were united by an inviolate Constitution. Lincoln admired that Washington established the protocol that the Presidency was to be “approachable” and that he refused to be addressed as “Your Excellency” preferring the term “Mr. President.”  Lincoln also appreciated Washington’s advice to future Presidents to avoid foreign entanglements and agreed with Washington’s decision to only serve two terms.

 Our nation was fortunate to have had these two leaders available, and willing to serve, at critical times in our history. So, on this holiday, we should reflect on the legacies of Washington and Lincoln, be grateful for their service, and, maybe, take a few moments to share their contributions to our great Country with our children and grandchildren.

And, we will still have time to barbeque, enjoy recreation, and even hit those holiday sales!

Return to Ft. Sumter (Article 86)

“If we never meet in this world again, God grant that we may meet in the next.” – Major Robert Anderson, Union Commander at Fort Sumter to Confederate emissaries before the bombardment of the fort by Southern forces.

Robert Anderson’s family pedigree is steeped in service to his Nation. His father served with George Washington and was in the boat with the General as they crossed the Delaware to attack the British Army mercenaries at Trenton, New Jersey; a battle which turned the tide in the War for Independence. His brother Charles Anderson was a Colonel in the Union Army, was seriously wounded, and in November 1863, as Lt. Governor of Ohio, gave an address at Gettysburg following Abraham Lincoln’s famous speech. Larz, another brother, was an influential spokesman against succession; however, his third brother, Marshall, was an advocate for the Confederacy and would even plan, but fail, to expand the secessionist movement to Mexico. Like other families of the era, Marshall’s support for the Southern states’ efforts to form a separate nation caused a breech in the family that would take years to heal.  Robert, on the other hand, eschewed political commentary and had, since childhood, hoped for a career in the U.S. Army; and he served his country honorably for nearly forty years in a variety of assignments.

 But he is primarily remembered for only one, which ended in April, 1861!

 Fort Sumter and Union Major Robert Anderson are forever linked in American history. The large, but unfinished, fort in Charleston Bay became the lightening point for the start of the Civil War when Southern forces opened cannon fire from numerous nearby installations to drive out a small Union force. Major Anderson had led about 100 troops into the fort; which he hoped he could hold against the nearly eight thousand Southern forces gathered in Charleston.

 But, in the end, he could not!

 Anderson had attended the U.S. Military Academy at West Point and graduated in 1825. He served in Illinois during the short Black Hawk War in 1832 and was the commissioned officer who mustered (signed in and out of service) a young store clerk and militia member, Abraham Lincoln. Anderson later fought in in the Mexican War, during which he received serious wounds, but recovered. For his service, he was promoted to Major and was appointed to serve at West Point as an artillery instructor.

 By late 1860, South Carolina had announced that the state would secede from the United States and began to threaten federal installations. The United States Army, with the concurrence of then President Buchanan, conducted an inspection of the several military installations in and around Charleston Bay. What they found was not encouraging. The garrison in Charleston was commanded by Colonel John Gardner, a capable officer in his earlier days, but who no longer had the vitality to drive improvements to the facilities. The three most important forts in the Charleston area were vulnerable. Fort Moultrie was well provisioned, but was easily within target range of any heavy land-based cannon, which could quickly devastate the fort. Another installation, Castle Pickney was largely ceremonial and was manned by only a few soldiers. Then there was the issue of Fort Sumter. The fort, when finished, was intended to be the dominant military installation in Charleston Harbor; but work had been halted as Southern slave-holders had kept their slave-workers and other laborers off the site following South Carolina’s secession in December. General Winfield Scott, Commander of the U.S. Army, replaced the aging Colonel Gardner and assigned Major Robert Anderson as the new garrison Commander.

Anderson was considered a good choice by both sides. General Scott knew that he was a competent officer and the Southerners in Charleston recognized him as a courteous gentleman, who was from Kentucky and whose family had owned slaves. Anderson mingled easily with the Charleston politicians and civic leaders; possibly because he had publicly stated that he had no pre-determined opposition to slavery in the southern states. Anderson’s position was not unlike many northern born military officers; most of whom were staunch defenders of the Union, but saw no reason to interfere with the institution of slavery in the South. His view also mirrored that of the incoming President, Abraham Lincoln, who, politically at that time, only opposed the expansion of slavery to new states; believing that slavery was constitutionally protected in fifteen existing Southern states.

 But Anderson knew there were leaders in Charleston who wanted the United States military out of South Carolina and, specifically, out of Charleston Bay. The state already had a strong local militia, with several thousand men at various stages of military training; and new men were volunteering daily. Jefferson Davis, recognizing that hostilities were inevitable, sent newly appointed Confederate General, P.G.T. Beauregard to command the State’s militia in preparation for the battle. Since the Confederate Army, at the time, had not built any troop strength, General Beauregard only brought a small staff with him to Charleston. But the militia forces dedicated to secession already greatly outnumbered the small Union garrison.

 Anderson was alarmed by the increasingly hostile comments by South Carolina’s militia and political leaders. Initially, Anderson had about three hundred men in the Charleston garrison, certainly not enough to withstand a determined Confederate assault against his soldiers, who were scattered among the three forts. And he realized that he had neither the provisions nor the troop strength to withstand simultaneous attacks on all of those Union facilities. So, Anderson ordered most of the garrison to leave Charleston and relocate to secure areas in the North, and then moved a small unit of 85 men into Fort Sumter. The fort was away from the shore in the middle of the bay, and, while unfinished, provided the best defensive position.

 Until the March 4th Inauguration of President Lincoln, outgoing President Buchanan had continual diplomatic exchanges with the Governor of South Carolina hoping to defuse the situation. However, even Anderson’s move into Fort Sumter was considered a hostile act by the Governor, who warned of military action. Immediately after Lincoln became President, he faced a dilemma. Should he try to send provisions into the harbor to re-supply Fort Sumter? If so, that would almost certainly provoke a battle between the U.S. ships and Southern forces which now commanded the shore and the two other fortresses. The new President attempted a compromise by telling the South Carolina Governor that he would send food and water to Ft. Sumter, but no additional men or weapons. The Governor’s reply was that any attempt to re-provision the fort would be considered an act of war and would be met with force.

 All parties waited, not knowing for certain when the expected showdown would begin. Confederate President Jefferson Davis had given the local commander, General Beauregard, authority to choose the time to begin the bombardment of the fort. Just after midnight, on the morning of April 12, 1861, three Confederate officers, two of whom Anderson knew well, rowed out to the fort and delivered an ultimatum; either vacate the facility or face annihilation from a bombardment which would begin at 4:30am. Anderson had no orders that would permit him to abandon his position without a fight, so he declined the offered terms. As they parted, Major Anderson shook hands with the Southern emissaries and said, “If we never meet in this world again, God grant that we may meet in the next.”

 Then, at dawn, the bombardment of Fort Sumter began. Ironically, Confederate General Beauregard, who planned and, then directed, the cannon attack, had studied artillery strategy and tactics under Major Anderson at West Point.

 By the afternoon of April 13th, without sufficient provisions, and with much of the fort in flames from over 4,000 shells fired by the Confederates over the past 36 hours, Major Anderson agreed to surrender Ft. Sumter. The next morning, April 14, 1861, Confederate General Beauregard, as a matter of respect, permitted Major Anderson to fire a cannon salute as he lowered the United States flag, which had been torn by repeated Confederate blasts. And, in another act of courtesy, Beauregard allowed Anderson to keep the tattered flag.

Shortly after returning to the North, Major Anderson wrote, “Our Southern brethren have done grievous wrong. They have rebelled and have attacked their father’s house and their loyal brothers. They must be punished and brought back, but this necessity breaks my heart.”

 For his gallant, but futile, stand at Fort Sumter, Anderson was feted as a hero in the North. While he hoped for a new command, Anderson was first asked to tour Northern states to help build support for the war effort. Over 100,000 people attended a ceremony in New York City to hear Major Anderson, and of course to see the large American flag which had been preserved. At one point, the flag was even draped over a statue of George Washington in Times Square. The flag was then routed to numerous Northern cities and became a significant fund-raiser for the Union cause.

 For the next two years, Anderson served in various positions, but, by late 1863, he had to retire from active duty as his earlier war wounds contributed to his declining health.

 However, he would put on his uniform one more time!

 Charleston finally fell to Union troops on February 18, 1865 and the Confederates abandoned Fort Sumter. Then, two months later, in a largely ceremonial action, Anderson returned to the fort with the flag that had been so carefully maintained over the years. On Good Friday, April 14th, 1865, (now retired) Brigadier General Robert Anderson again raised that flag over Fort Sumter; exactly four years after he was forced to take it down. He commented, “Thank God, I have lived to see this day.”

 Later that night, amid all of the jubilation by the Northern people who celebrated the pending victory over the Confederates and the re-unification of the nation, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, and died the following morning. When Anderson heard the news, he reportedly wept and said, in a halting voice, “Oh God, I loved that man.”

 Unfortunately, Anderson never regained his health and died five years later, at age sixty-six. He was buried at West Point.

 The flag, still showing the damage from the bombardment, is preserved, as Robert Anderson believed it should be, and is on display at the Fort Sumter museum.