Older Q of the Week (2019-20)

Questions & Answers for postings October 2019 through December 2020

———————————————————————————————————————

Christmas descriptions (added 24 December 2020)

Did Illinois soldiers in the field celebrate Christmas?

Yes, they did, to various extents, when possible. Generally, there were no Christmas truces, per se, and there were some military actions by Civil War armies close to 25 December. An inspection of E. B. Long’s The Civil War Day by Day shows that there was some Christmas Day skirmishing (1861); General Sherman maneuvering his army north of Vicksburg, Mississippi, prior to the Battle of Chickasaw Bayou (29 December 1862) and armies getting in place prior to the Battle of Stones River near Murfreesboro, Tennessee (which started 31 December); some skirmishing on Christmas and minor naval actions in the eastern theaters of war in 1863; and on that same calendar day in 1864, Federal troops were repulsed in trying to take Fort Fisher, North Carolina, and there was skirmishing related to the pursuit of the remnants of Confederate general Hood’s army in southern Tennessee after the Battle of Nashville (15-16 December).[1]

Here is a detailed Christmas Day, 1862, description of camp antics during some hours of relaxed military discipline. [Editor’s note: the following is a literal transcription and contains offensive, derogatory words.]

camp near Gallatin, Tennessee, December 25, 1862, to parents

this is Christmas evening but there is very little appearance of any frolicks and “nary Gall” this has been spent as a kind of holy day in the Reg^t in the morning the camp Gaurd was called in, and the men got privliege to go any where within five hundred yards of camp. in the fore part of the day the boys played ball [i.e., baseball] and cut up [e.g., frolicked, joked] in a general way. W. Frasier W. J Hill & I went to try and buy some turkey or chicken but failed in that so we just came back and tryed it the old way on crackers & pork with a few beans &etc. after dinner the old drum beat at head quarters and we all repaired thither. we looked for battalion drill or some other thing of this kind but judge of our surprise when, instead of that there stood a big box bottom up and on it a little “niggir” dancing and another old one fiddling like fun. after he got through dancing then came a regular stampede and shoulder straps [i.e., being an officer] woudnt save a man a bit they would catch a capt or Leut and set him on the box and there was no escape he either had to dance or stand his time out any how. we got the Ajutant up and here he stood for a good while and then we let him down next on the programe, here they come with the Leut Col. and set him up on the box he lost his left shoulder strap in the scuffle. he stood and laughed for a little while and then jumped down and said he could get a substitute and catched the nigger and set him up again this caused a general cheering and the crowd broke up after an hours fun – it is now four oclock and still there is no sign of the boys stoping playing ball and everything that will amuse in the slightest

[But it was still war times, and his letter continues . . .]

I am sorry here to state that on tuesday [23 December] we followed one of our most estimable members of the Companie to the grave as mourners the mu[si]cians went to the front with their drums muffled. then eight men with their guns brightened. then came the whole Company moving in slow procession. at the grave the chaplain Preached a short sermon and prayed we then marched to camp on a quick march and in the Companie he appears to be entirely forgot already

[and he also mentioned political rumors . . .]

the papers here state that Lincolns whole Cabinet has resigned. is this the case. if so what do you think about it.?

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Although Gallatin, Tennessee, is directly north of the forthcoming battle at Murfreesboro, instead on 26 December the 80^th Illinois Infantry Regiment moved further north, into Kentucky, in pursuit of Confederate general John Morgan’s forces.

Somewhat in contrast, here are excerpts from a private’s two letters as Christmas 1864 approached.

Nashville, Tennessee, December 21, 1864, to sister

I hope you will have a merry Christmas up in Ill, this winter I should be glad to be at home this Christmas and partake of the goodies. but I am not going to cry about it

Nashville, Tennessee, December 23, 1864, to “Mother and Children”

My health is tolerably good at present, with the exception of my limbs & joints which frequently feel stiff & painful this season of the year, and which is doubtless the effect of long & severe exposure while in the service. . . . I hope you are all well and in a good humor. and trust you will have had a happy Christmas, and enjoyed yourselves as gaily and cheerfully as snow-birds. and to some benefit & improvement to you all, as well as to the great satisfaction to and approbation of Mother.

—Private William Dillon, 40th Infantry, Marion County

It seems Private Dillon was somewhat melancholy about missing the holiday festivities at home with his family.

Even more in contrast, in 1863 the following soldier actually was ruing how Christmas was sometimes celebrated in the army.

Big Black River, Mississippi, December 27, 1863, to brother

Our Colonel is not in command yet but will probialy get the command in a few days He proves to be a very good officer and almost worships the Regiment the only trouble is he tries to make them do every thing that any other Regiment ever done to show off Our Gens. gave orders to ishue three rations of whiskey to the Soldiers on Christmas day The soldiers and officers wer most all drunk and nothing but fights and rows all day and night I wish they would dismiss our Gens. for ishuing such orders I never wanto see an other Christmas while I am in the army if they let the soldiers have whiskey In our Regiment they got up a Temperance plege and over two hundred si[g]ned it

—Private Cyrus Randall, 124th Infantry, Kane County

Finally, here is a fourth soldier, a chaplain, reflecting on missing the 1863 Christmas at home, and missing his wife in particular.

Whiteside, Tennessee [near the Georgia border], January 6, 1864, to wife, Anna

You want to have me say that I am your husband Well so I say then but I would much rather prove it by —- you know what . . . Capt [Frederick] Garternicht [of Co. G] has just heard that a little girl made her appearance at his house Christmas night quite a Christmas present he thinks. How do you suppose the thing happened? I dont know of course but he went home on leave of absence last March [i.e., nine months prior . . .] & he told me some time ago that when he was home he “played dunder” you can guess what that means.

—Chaplain Hiram Roberts, 84th Infantry, Adams County

One might well guess that “you know what” and “played dunder” meant something conjugal.

[1] E. B. Long (with Barbara Long), The Civil War Day by Day: An Almanac 1861-1865, reprint (New York: Da Capo Press, 1971), 151, 300-302, 449, 611, 615.

———————————————————————————————————————

Phonetic spelling (added 18 December 2020)

There are several phonetic spellers among the soldiers in your book. Does this mean the phonetic spellers were at least somewhat illiterate?

Fundamentally, literacy is a progression of understanding written language rules and exceptions. Spelling is a part of literacy skills. In that light, literacy is a continuum on which individuals fall and, somewhere, there is a fuzzy, arbitrary line where those below could be considered illiterate. In short, literacy is more than being able to sign one’s name.

Regarding spelling skills, “We can use ‘phonetic spelling’ for most words because there’s a direct correspondence between the sounds and the written letters. About 84 percent of English words follow the sound-spelling rules of the language.”[1]

Children generally go through a “phonetic stage” in learning correct spelling.

“The correct speller fundamentally understands how to deal with such things as prefixes and suffixes, silent consonants, alternative spellings, and irregular spellings. A large number of learned words are accumulated, and the speller recognizes incorrect forms. . . . the major need for inventive spellers who are beginning to read is to have someone to answer their questions and correct their mistakes, such as the misreading of words, when necessary.”[2]

I sometimes use voice-recognition software as part of a speak-to-type process. It is amazingly good at converting speech to written words, but it also is often tripped up by homonyms (e.g., corps vs. core, wait vs. weight, to vs. too vs. two), possessive cases (e.g., the bayonet’s gleam vs. the bayonets gleam), and irregular spellings (e.g., some proper names). The software does “learn” a user’s spelling preferences (say, for often used names), but generally humans learn better when, as mentioned above, they can get answers to their spelling questions and have help with correcting their mistakes. Soldiers, as adults, may have sometimes had a stigma about asking fellow soldiers for help with their literacy skills and thus became “stuck” in the phonetic spelling stage. In any case, there was a range of literacy skills evident in Civil War soldiers’ letters.

All that stated, I would suggest Civil War phonetic spellers are sometimes easier to “hear” as to what their voices and manners of speaking were like through their personal letters. Some examples of this come from letters written by Sergeant Ashley Alexander of Winnebago County. Here is an image of a letter he wrote while at Camp Butler, Illinois, dated 3 March 1862.

His penmanship is about average among the Illinois Civil War soldiery, and he is somewhat a phonetic speller. In the following transcription of a later letter, I have used brackets – [ ] – to indicate misspelled words. (Note that like in many such soldiers’ letters, punctuation was lean or almost nonexistent, irrespective of the soldier’s spelling ability.)

Clear Spring, Maryland, September 20, 1862, to “Frien[d] Akerley & family”

With pleasure I sit down to Inform you that I am still a live [alive] and well & I hope that these few lines will find you all injoying [enjoying] the same blessing I should have a riten [written] before but wee [we] have benn [been] mooving [moving] a round [around] all the time I spoase [suppose] that you with out [without] doubt have heard of our leaving Martinesburgh [Martinsburg] and going to harpers ferry the Rebils [Rebels] drove us from thare [there] and when they got to the ferry Wee [we] got into a tighter plais [place] still wee [we] got thare [there] three weeks a go [ago] last friday and on Saturday they comenst [commenced] fiting [fighting] they fought all day and most all knight [night] and Sunday they plantid [planted] their Batteries on london hights [Loudoun Heights] and they shelled us Rather earley [early] I thought they had over 40 pieses [pieces] on them hights [heights] and as nise [nice] a rainge [range] as you ever saw an [and] you can only imagin [imagine] It to bee [be] a rather of a warm time they had uss [us] all suroundid [surrounded] If you had this pen I dont [don’t] think that you would blaim [blame] me If I did not right [write] for It is the poorest damd [damned] thing I eversaw [ever saw] so you cant [can’t] expect mee [me] to rite [write] mutch [much] Wall [Well] they spiked them largest gunes [guns] a bout [about] 1 oclock [o’clock] Sunday they was tow [two] of their gunners pict [picked] off so the damd [damned] fool General Milles [Miles] orderd [ordered] them to spike them to make It short I[t] was a poor damd [damned] cowerdly [cowardly] surrender [surrender] and at 8.8.o.clock Sunday knight [night] Generall [General] white [White] says that he was a going to lead this cavalry [cavalry] out of theire [there] up into pensylvania [Pennsylvania] or to hell So wee [we] cut our way out of that plaise [place] without mutch [much] loos [loss] and did not get into anny more [anymore] truble [trouble] till wee [we] got to Sharpes Burgh [Sharpsburg] thare [there] the Rebiles [Rebels] fiered [fired] into uss [us] again wee [we] runn [run] into cornfields and into woods and and all plaises [places] but into a good road Wee [we] got out of that and did not think of anny [any] difficulty [difficulty] till wee [we] run into longstreets [Longstreet’s] train he and Burnside had ben [been] a fiting [fighting] the day before and he was a retreating to harpers fery [Ferry] to reinforse [reinforce] Jackson Wall [Well] after sckedadling [skedaddling] so mutch [much] wee [we] done some good Wee [We] toock [took] 175 Wagons loaded with Amunition [Ammunition] and provisions and 103 prisners [prisoners] and runn [run] them up into Pa. Wee [We] are a waiching [watching] the Rebiles [Rebels’] moovements [movements] know [now or know] they are on the other side of the patomac [Potomac] and wee [we] are on this side Wee [We] see them evry day [everyday] and talk with them some of the time they say that they wons [won] wont [won’t] be but wone [one] more Batle [Battle] and It will be soon Wee [We] expect to have to leave evry day [everyday] they [there] was a Rebil [Rebel] cap captain and 4 others came and gave them selves [themselves] up day before yesterday they say that they cant [can’t] fite [fight] anny [any] longer without something to eat and tow [two] of them said that they had ben [been] Barefooted tow [two] months they [there] was a farmer came from a Martines burgh [Martinsburg] he said that they [there] was 160 thousand thare [there] and to Winchester freem [Freeman? – a man’s name] I gess [guess] I will not wright [write] a gain [again] for I haint [haven’t] no money to pay the postage and cant [can’t] get any so I will have to stop writing I cant [can’t] cary [carry] paper and half of the time I cant [can’t] get any and so It dont [don’t] pay to rite [write] a fellow [fellow] hase [has] to lay on the ground and to rite [write] I cant [can’t] rite [write] worth a cuss any way [anyway] but when I get back I will tell you all the news wee [we] dont [don’t] get anny [any] news here you hear twise [twice] as mutch [much] as wee [we] do a bout [about] what is going on in regard to the Army

—Sergeant Ashley Alexander, 12th Cavalry, Winnebago County

It some cases, his phonetic spelling gives some insights on how he pronounced words, such as frien for “friend,” spoase for suppose, thare for there, anny for any, and haint for haven’t. For example, wall for “well” suggests he may have had a somewhat western drawl (for the country at the time).

When I give in-person or virtual presentations about Illinois Civil War soldiers’ letters, I have audience members read letter excerpts aloud. It is one of the best ways to imagine hearing voices from the past, especially because so many of the soldiers wrote as if talking.

[1] https://www.understood.org/en/school-learning/for-educators/teaching-strategies/evidence-based-literacy-strategy-spelling-regular-words

[2] https://www.readingrockets.org/article/invented-spelling-and-spelling-development

———————————————————————————————————————

Shoes and boots in the army (added 11 December 2020)

There is this quotation in your book: “we was stript Barefoot and marched over the mountains and Rock until the suffering of the Poor Boys is beyond any description or imagination” (page 66). How common was soldier barefooted-ness in the Civil War?

“Shoeless Soldier’s Sonnet”[1]

Steppin’ lively next to the dusty roads,

My small part to keep the Blue Bellies vexed,

Where in the Wilderness we might smite next,

Marching in the brigade of Robert Rodes.

Silence be our watchword, signal in codes,

Rifles ready, high officers have checked

Old Jack’s grand ruse to have their right flank wrecked;

We peers through the woods while the cannon loads.

Lies beyond, out of sight, of our front ranks

Them stuffed haversacks, sugar and bacon,

Beef on the hoof, to go into our stews.

O, My Captain points down the road of planks,

Union position, all for the takin’.

I rise up on blood-stained feet without shoes.

*****

“An army marches on its stomach” (said Napoleon, Frederick the Great, and/or Claudius Galen), but shoe leather helped combat the weather whether on the march or standing still during guard or picket duty.

Major General Burnside Washington, D.C.,
Knoxville, Tenn. Oct. 17 1863

I am greatly interested to know how many new troops of all sorts you have raised in Tennessee. Please inform me.

A. LINCOLN

Burnside replied on October 22: “Your dispatch received. We have already over three thousand in the three year service & half armed. About twenty five hundred home guards many more recruits could have been had for the three years’ service but for the want of clothing & camp equipage. . . . We are suffering considerably for want of shoes & clothing . . .”[2]

Without a doubt, shoes and boots were valuable commodities to soldiers in both the Union and Confederate armies. Although shoeless-ness is more often associated with Confederate soldiers, look closely at this December 1863 image of a Union soldier guarding a bridge northeast of Knoxville, Tennessee.[3]

Clear Spring, Maryland, September 20, 1862, to “Frien[d] Akerley & family”

Wee are a waiching the Rebiles moovements know [now] they are on the other side of the patomac and wee are on this side Wee see them evry day and talk with them some of the time they say that they wons[?] wont be but wone more Batle and It will be soon Wee expect to have to leave evry day they was a Rebil cap captain and 4 others came and gave them selves up day before yesterday they say that they cant fite anny longer without something to eat and tow of them said that they had ben Barefooted tow months

—Sergeant Ashley Alexander, 12th Cavalry, Winnebago County

After his regiment’s escape from Harpers Ferry, Sergeant Alexander mentioned that among some captured Confederates “tow [two] of them said that they had ben Barefooted tow months.” Granted this was during September, yet marching and maneuvering in bare feet cannot be comfortable.

When I took this picture, below, I praised the Confederate reenactor (in the red shirt) for his realism![4]

camp near Bowling Green, Kentucky, November 1, 1862, to wife, Julia, and children

a wounded [Confederate] Lieutenant told us that he had paid fifty dollars for the boots he had on about as good as a pair I had on I paid five twenty five for in Louisville ky and he sayed shoes was from Eight to ten dollars per pair and nearly one third of Braggs Army was barefooted those that had shoes had stole them on their way up.

—1st Lieutenant Philip Welshimer, 21st Infantry, Cumberland County

Considering what the wounded lieutenant paid (which may have been in Confederate scrip), it is no surprise then regarding the following (which is the full quotation from page 66 of the book).

Benton Barracks, near St. Louis, Missouri, September 9, 1864, to wife, Mattie

I suppose that you have already heard of the misfortune of the 54th Regiment. we was attacted [in Arkansas] on the 24th of August by General [Joseph O.] Shelbys forces. . . . they then made a charge on us and we was over powered and forced to surrender. they rob[b]ed us of every thing we had some of the Boys had nothing left but their Shirt and Pants we was stript Barefoot and marched over the mountains and Rock until the suffering of the Poor Boys is beyond any description or imagination we was put through on the Double Quick for 40 Hours without a bite of any thing to eat

—Private Henry Barrick, 54th Infantry, Douglas County

Private Barrick and comrades were “stript” of items that would have been useful to the victors. Similarly, there is this description of Captain Chauncey Williams’ body found during the aftermath of a battle.

near Peterburg, Virginia, August 19, 1864, to Mrs. Williams

I send you enclosed a lock of hair and one Shoulder strap the only relics of your noble husband, and our brave and honored Captain, who fell on the 16^th inst while bravely leading his men on to victory. After the fight I search the field for his body but could not find it. . . . The next day, under a flag of truce we recovered the bodies of our dead. . . . This shoulder strap was all that was left him, his pants and boots had been taken by the rebels, and even the buttons cut off his vest.

—Private William Morley, 39th Infantry, DeWitt County

However, not all Union footwear was worth having.

Nashville, Tennessee, February 10, 1863, to uncle, W. C. Rice

I wish you would get Rapp or some other man to make me a pair of first rate hip boots. . . . I suppose from what I hear they will not cost more than 6,50 there They would bring $13,00 here. The boys are buying grained leather boots of very poor material for 10,00 and 12,00 They do not last 3 months.

—Sergeant James Rice, 10th Infantry, Henderson County

Of course, boots provided more protection than shoes when living outdoors continuously, and in any and all kinds of weather.

Greenville, Missouri, February 22, 1862, to brother

we left Ironton on the 29 of January . . . through the deep snow and snow storm. the first creek we came too was knee deep so all g[ot ?—MSD] their feet wet. the most of the boys wore shoes. about 3 o clock it quit snowing. the wind began to howl through the mountains, and began to frese very fast. then we began to suffer,—wet feet & pants legs frose stiff. at 5 00 we camped. evry man had from 3 to 5 pounds of ice & mud frose to his clothes so we built fires as well as we could and warmed. . . . we covered with our Blankets. it was very cold on that night. next morning there was a good many boys found their feet frost bit and some so badly frosen that they had to be hauled back to Ironton.

—Private George Dodd, 21st Infantry, Edgar County

Finally, it is no surprise that standing out in the rain on guard duty, with wet shoes, could put a soldier in a foul mood.

Paducah, Kentucky, February 1, 1862, to brothers and sisters

While the soldiery who are out in the defense of their comfort happiness & liberties have sacrificed friends, Father & Mother, Brothers & Sisters and in thousands of instances have left Wives & children and all else that pertains to mans happiness in a peaceful life, They (the soldiery) must be the objects of scorn & hisses! and be called rogues and plunderers, while engaged in putting down rebellion & disloyalty, and have come out on the field, the camp, the march, and subjecting our safety our healths our lives to all the dangers attendant to a soldiers life. And now while I write the water is from shoe mouth to half leg deep all around us while on post . . .

—Private William Dillon, 40th Infantry, Marion County

[1] Poem from the Sesquicentennial Civil War Series of poems I wrote circa 2014. This one was inspired by the descriptions of General Jackson’s Confederate soldiers marching on 2 May 1863 in maneuvering to strike General Hooker’s Union right flank at the Battle of Chancellorsville.

[2] Roy P. Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953–55), 6:521-2.

[3] This image is from https://pitsnipesgripes.blogspot.com/2013/03/rewind.html

[4] Image taken 1 June 2019 at the Pike County “Lincoln Days” Civil War Battle, Lake Pittsfield, Illinois.

———————————————————————————————————————

Location of first Camp Butler (added 4 December 2020)

On page 23 of your book, you stated that Camp Butler was named after the then-state treasurer, William Butler. Where was the first Camp Butler located?

As I had explained on this webpage (28 August 2020), “the first mention in the Springfield newspapers of what was to become Camp Butler, at its original Clear Lake location, is the following.”

Illinois Troops Accepted.– The thirteen new regiments of infantry recently tendered [by] the War Department, by Gov. Yates, have been accepted. They will be ordered to rendezvous at this city, and will go into camp at Clear Lake, which is admirably calculated to accommodate a large body of troops, affording ample room for drill and evolutions, with plenty of shade and good water. Details will be published in a day or two, and the necessary orders issued.^[1]

Here is a mid-August 1861 newspaper article description of the newly established Camp Butler.

At Camp Butler.— We paid a hasty visit yesterday to Camp Butler, and found things looking very lively, and the ground assuming quite a military air. Crowds of visitors are constantly coming and going, notwithstanding the condition of the roads is such that every vehicle leaves behind it a stream of dust like the tail of a comet.
The most conspicuous object in approaching the camp is the sutler’s tent of our friend Myers, who is as busy as a bee the whole time . . .
Alongside his stand are the commissary buildings, from which were issued on Wednesday 1,918 rations, which were probably increased yesterday to 2,500, as several companies arrived during the day. The soldiers occupy themselves as men in camp usually do, and are as fine a looking body of men as any friend of this country could wish. We believe there are about 18 companies of infantry and 11 of cavalry now in camp.[2]

When the weather turned wet, the dusty roads turned into muddy ones, which at times became nearly impassible as a consequence. The above article mentions “commissary buildings” but, otherwise and generally throughout this iteration of Camp Butler, most everyone occupied tents as opposed to wooden structures. The following article emphasizes the canvas nature of the camp environment.

Camp Jottings.
Camp Butler, Friday Evening.

This is been a dreary day in camp. A drizzling, sluggish rain has been falling almost uninterruptedly since noon, and the soldiers, unless those detailed for special duty, are confined to their tents. Drill exercises are for the hence dispensed with, and instead of the tramp and other “pompous circumstances” of camp life, we hear nothing but the coarse jestings of the men as they recline in true soldierly negligence in their canvas tenements. . . .[3]

On October 4, 1861, Private Thomas Clingman of the 46^th Infantry made in his diary this sketch map of Camp Butler.[4]

Private Clingman’s map shows the “rows of tents” where the soldiers slept just to the east of Clear Lake. (Note that east is toward the top in this orientation and north to the left.) The parade grounds are just to the east of the rows of tents. The cavalry portion of the camp was to the northeast, where there was more open ground for cavalry drilling and training.

On November 25, 1861, (now) Corporal Clingman noted in his diary that “24 of our company were detailed to assist in building barracks.”[5] These new barracks were roughly two miles northwest of the original Camp Butler location on the east side of Clear Lake. Perhaps the main reason for the relocation was to put the camp close to the Great Western Railroad. By the end of December 1861, most Camp Butler soldiers were quartered in the new barracks. However, not all the details of the location transfer were worked out by that time. On January 8, 1862, Corporal Clingman noted that he “Went to the old camp with several of the boys after bread.”[6] Perhaps the bakery, then, was still located near Clear Lake.

This image shows the relative locations of the two camps.[7] Clear Lake looks like a leftward leaning “1” in the lower portion, and the original Camp Butler living quarters for the infantry were sited primarily just to the right (east) of the lake. The second location of Camp Butler is directly west of the two Sangamon River meanders, just at the bottom of the S-curve of the Great Western Railroad (area labeled “Barracks”). This is approximately where Camp Butler National Cemetery is today. Toward the top of this map is James Town – sometimes slangily mentioned as Jim Town – which is now named Riverton.

However, a broader reason for the relocation of Camp Butler was the growing realization, nationally, that the Civil War was not going to end in a few additional months. Thus, there was going to be a continuing need for Union troops, which started with recruitment and the transition from citizens to soldiers through training at places such as Camp Butler. In that light, Camp Butler needed barracks to protect against the weather and efficiencies in transportation that railways could provide (and that dusty or muddy roads could not).

[1] Illinois State Journal, July 31, 1861, p.3.

[2] Illinois State Journal, August 16, 1861.

[3] Illinois State Register, September 14, 1861.

[4] The Diary of Thomas Clingman and the Clingman Family Letters, typed manuscript at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library, p. 19.

[5] The Diary of Thomas Clingman, p. 37.

[6] The Diary of Thomas Clingman, p. 46.

[7] The Diary of Thomas Clingman, p. 18, which has a partial replica of this image.

———————————————————————————————————————

Thanksgiving Proclamation (added 25 November 2020)

Did Illinois Civil War soldiers celebrate Thanksgiving?

Generally, yes. President Washington declared “Thursday the 26th day of November” (the same as this year) would be recognized as Thanksgiving Day (in 1789). U.S. presidents and governors intermittently gave recognition to Thanksgiving in the first half of the nineteenth century through various declarations and resolutions.

Officers Hospital No. 17, Memphis, Nashville, November 4, 1863, to wife, Anna

I wish I could get home for Thanksgiving I should enjoy it so much but it is impossible.

—Chaplain Hiram Roberts, 84th Infantry, Adams County

During the Civil War, in September 1863, President Lincoln was asked by Sara Josepha Hale “. . . to have the day of our annual Thanksgiving made a National and fixed Union Festival. . . .”[1] The end result was the following presidential proclamation written by Secretary of State William Seward and signed by Abraham Lincoln.

October 3, 1863

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next,[2] as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.

[signed: Abraham Lincoln]

Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the United States the Eighty-eighth. ABRAHAM LINCOLN

By the President:

WILLIAM H. SEWARD, Secretary of State.[3]

Note that the above proclamation is not to be confused with President Lincoln’s other calls for a “thanksgiving.” Here is one example.

Memphis, Tennessee, May 1, 1863, to sister, Addie Tower

As yesterday was the day appointed by the President for thanks-giving, work of all kinds was laid aside for the day and most of the buisness houses were closed. by order of Gen Harlbut [Stephen A. Hurlbut] they were obliged to respect the day if they did not pray for the success of our army.

—Private John Cottle, 15th Infantry, McHenry County

Private Cottle’s statement likely was in reference to President Lincoln’s March 30, 1863, proclamation which reads, in part:

We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven. We have been preserved, these many years, in peace and prosperity. We have grown in numbers, wealth and power, as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace, and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us; and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us!

It behooves us then, to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins, and to pray for clemency and forgiveness.

Now, therefore, in compliance with the request, and fully concurring in the views of the Senate, I do, by this my proclamation, designate and set apart Thursday, the 30th. day of April, 1863, as a day of national humiliation, fasting and prayer. And I do hereby request all the People to abstain, on that day, from their ordinary secular pursuits, and to unite, at their several places of public worship and their respective homes, in keeping the day holy to the Lord, and devoted to the humble discharge of the religious duties proper to that solemn occasion.[4]

Rather, instead of a day of fasting, during the Civil War the holiday of Thanksgiving was associated with foods that would be familiar to us in the twenty-first century (albeit under very different national circumstances).

Officers Hospital at Memphis, Nashville, November 26, 1863, to wife, Anna

Thanksgiving day has come again I have been to church & back again & eaten dinner, not such a one as our good old New England tables used to groan under but still a very fair one for this region & especially for a hospital. For instance we had turkey boiled ham sweet & Irish potatoes pickles cake & pie. I doubt not I feel just as well as though I had had a thousand varieties & am certainly thankful that I have so much while thousands of others are destitute & even our brave boys who are fighting the battles of the Union have at the best only hard tack & side bacon I fear too that while we are thus enjoying the good things of life many of our soldiers are being torn with shot & shell ushered into eternity or maimed & crippled for life.

—Chaplain Hiram Roberts, 84th Infantry, Adams County

And to be clear, soldiers did not require President Lincoln’s 1863 national holiday proclamation to feast at Thanksgiving.

Danville, Kentucky, December 4, 1862, to sister

[For Thanksgiving] Well we had a most an allkilling big feast at one of the best union ladies house in the town of Danville [KY]. The boys got it up just how James can tell you better, but I can tell you what we had for I was there about that time. Wal [for “Well now . . .” perhaps] there was roast turkey stuffed nigh to bursting, mashed potatoes, loaf bread, corn bread, biscuit, pie, pickled tomatoes and beets, Blackberry-jam and last but not least the pleasure of sitting down to a table to eat a meal of victuals something I have not done since I left Waukegan.[5]

—Private John Y. Taylor, 96th Infantry, Lake County (younger brother of Corporal James M. Taylor)

Thus, well prior to 1863, Thanksgiving already had been a long-standing American holiday tradition.

[1] Roy P. Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953–55), 6:497, first annotation.

[2] This day also was the 26^th of November.

[3] Roy P. Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953–55), 6:496-7.

[4] Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 6:156. Proclamation Appointing a National Fast Day

[5] With thanks to Glenna Schroeder-Lein for some transcription details regarding this letter.

———————————————————————————————————————

Favorite soldiers (added 20 November 2020)

This is a theme I last addressed on 17 January 2020, albeit not very well. When being interviewed or answering questions live about the book, I often am asked who my favorite soldiers or letter writers are. Most recently, I received this question during a live interview last week.[1]

As a social scientist, I always chaff when trying to explain my sentiments because I realize my answers are not what most listeners are hoping to hear. Readers, however, have a prerogative to choose favorites in any way they see fit. As a latter-day ethnographer, of sorts, that is neither my role nor purpose.

In the interview last week so as to give an on-the-spot answer, I said the 165 soldiers in the book are my favorites because they made “the cut” out of all the publishable materials I had to work with at the time. Again, that is not a very satisfying statement for most people.

Here is how I would explain my perspective. When I was gathering materials that later turned into the current book, I was transcribing statements from soldiers’ personal letters at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library. I had randomly selected those collections from the card catalogue. After about the first hundred collections or so, I began to retrospectively examine my sample for biases. That is, for example, in my collecting at that point was I over-representing officers or particular pay grades, was I covering Illinois geography evenly (by county and region), were all military branches represented, etc.? I discovered I needed to make some modest efforts to address a few deficiencies. One area my sample lacked, which I could not readily correct, was USCT enlisted soldiers.[2] This likely is due to low literacy rates among USCT soldiers. The one letter transcription I did find, in a commemorative volume to a commanding officer, seemed very much like it was written by someone else and the soldier only signed the letter. Ultimately, I could not verify that the soldier wrote the letter, plus it offered next-to-nothing about soldiering experiences. So, I did not include the soldier or the letter.

More briefly, are the soldiers featured in the book representative, or even a random sample, of all Illinois soldiers? No, likely not. More aptly described, it is an attempted even-handed sample of the Illinois soldiery that likely fails toward the edges (i.e., where numbers in the universe of Illinois Civil War soldiers are small).

What does sampling have to do with “favorites”?

All the soldiers’ letters from which I made transcriptions had something to say and offered a variety of perspectives. I had no a priori expectations or hypotheses as I wrote out my transcriptions. I was not looking for certain themes, motifs, types of descriptions, etc. It was relatively easy for me to work in this tabula rasa mode because I was collecting ideas for a poetry project and not a history book. Then, in retrospect, I started to see common themes, subjects, and experiences. And, I should quickly add, I also began to pick out those that were rare or not the norm.

In the end when compiling the book, I let the soldiers’ writings determine the book’s content as much as possible. Collectively, if I had ten examples of soldiers describing picket duty, say, I selected just a few that fit well together and were understandable to a lay reader. That stated, I did not shy away from including soldiers who were phonetic spellers or had questionable grammar. (In fact, in some cases, those writers’ “voices” could be more easily heard coming off the pages.) In short, I tried to limit my biases and let the writers speak for themselves. And in that sense, I am very much the editor of this book and not its author.

Thus, my favorites were any soldier who had something to say that added to the understanding of their collective experiences, circumstances, or emotions.

[1] 12 November 2020, Illinois History Forum, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library; the interview can be viewed here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqanpKz0i7I

[2] USCT = U.S. Colored Troops, of which there were about 1,800 from Illinois.

———————————————————————————————————————

Mrs. Tilton of Springfield (added 13 November 2020)

On page 221 of the book, there is a soldier’s letter quotation describing meeting Mrs. Tilton who was the “lady of the house” at the Lincolns’ Springfield residence in May 1865. What else is known about Mrs. Tilton relative to the Civil War?

Here is that quotation.

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, May 25, 1865, to friend, Martha

we stayed all night at the Soldiers home a poor place in the morning Daniel McEawen & Edward Grow and I went over town went to the residence of Mr Lincoln the Lady of the house invited us in we had a long chat she played on the piano for us and when we went to go away she gave us some leaves and some flowers from the yard which I will send to you knowing That you are allways happy to receive such curiosities

—Private William Cochran, 102nd Infantry, Mercer County

In the book I explained that “Likely, ‘the Lady of the house’ was Mrs. Lucian Tilton. Her husband, the president of the Great Western Railroad, had an open-ended annual lease, which started in February 1861, to live in the Lincolns’ Springfield residence.”

The following is from the Lincoln Home National Park Service website.[1]

The Lincolns rented the house to the Lucian Tilton family when they left for Washington. As the Tiltons bought most of the Lincolns’ furniture, the house remained nearly unchanged inside and out for several years. However, they added to the kitchen. When Lincoln was assassinated in 1865, the Tiltons accommodated hundreds of mourners visiting the house, taking pictures, or snatching a leaf or a blade of grass from the lawn and trees. Mrs. Tilton had to ask for military protection around the house when people started taking paint off the clapboards and bricks from the retaining wall.

The Tiltons subsequently moved to Chicago in 1869.

While in Springfield during the Civil War, Mrs. Lucian (Lucretia) Tilton was active in the Ladies’ Springfield Soldiers’ Aid Society. In its annual report from August 1862, Mrs. Tilton was shown as the Secretary of the Society. Here are some highlights of the report describing the goals and accomplishments of the Society.

First Annual Report of the Ladies’ Springfield Soldiers Aid Society.[2]

August 28, 1862

But little more than a year has passed since our country was roused from dreams of peace and prosperity, by the outbreak of a most wicked rebellion, and slowly and reluctantly, by lessons taught at the cannon’s mouth, or traced in character of blood, has it been brought to realize the full magnitude of the contest in which it is thereby involved.

While men have nobly and unhesitatingly rushed by thousands, to rescue, from impending peril, a government rendered dearer than life itself by a long experience of its wisdom and beneficence, the women of the land, in a spirit of patriotism no less heroic, have bid them go forth, and though unable to share the dangers and privations incident to the soldier’s life, have followed them with prayers, breathed from lonely, aching hearts, and so far as is possible, with the home comforts so unselfishly cast aside. They feel that to sit with vitally folded hands, to be engrossed by pleasure and frivolity, or selfishly absorbed in the daily domestic and social routine, while husbands, sons and brothers are offering up their heart’s blood upon freedom’s altar, would prove them totally unworthy the enjoyment of the high and holy privileges secured at so terrible a cost.

Moved by sentiments like these, and belief in the greater efficiency of combined action, a few ladies in response to a notice given from the pulpits of the city, assembled in Cook’s Hall on 28 August, 1861, and decided to unite their efforts, in behalf of our brave volunteers, under the name of Ladies’ Springfield Soldiers’ Aid Society, the payment of $.25 constituting a membership. We commenced our labors in the belief that they would be required only a few months; that the dark cloud marching over the southern horizon, which we hoped to see speedily dispelled, has assumed more and more gigantic proportions until it pollutes with its baleful shadows every portion of our beloved country; and the close of our first anniversary begins with it the prospect of arduous unremitting toil for a long time to come.

In order to meet the frequent calls coming to us from hospitals where brave men are languishing from wounds or sickness, contracted in their country’s service, we have often found it necessary busily to ply our needles every day in the week, from morning till night, and to hold many evening meetings for the making of slippers and bandages. Though the society now numbers over 160 members, the average attendance has not exceeded 20 or 30.

. . .

In the hospitals at Camp Butler we have enjoyed the rare privilege of acquainting ourselves by personal observation, with the wants of Army hospitals generally, and of assuring ourselves that we are not laboring in vain. The tear of gratitude which has started to the eye of the sick soldier, as the wisp of straw beneath his aching head has been replaced by the soft pillow, and the earnest thanks which have greeted us for not forgetting those suffering far away from home and friends, have proved an ample compensation for all we have been able to accomplish, and far outweigh the many discouragements which have beset our path. Among them, and in the camp generally, we have distributed hundreds of books, magazines, tracts, newspapers, and quite a large number of Testaments, placed in our hands by the Springfield agent of the Sangamon County Bible Society. Books never failed to meet an eager welcome, and we are convinced that a vast amount of good might be accomplished could every Army hospital be supplied with the kind of reading best adapted at once to interest and instruct. We take pleasure in acknowledging the kindness of those gentlemen who have taken many articles from us to the hospitals, when we have been unable to visit them in person.

While feeling that the six soldiers in our immediate vicinity should ever claim our chief attention, we have not forgotten those far away, entering the year 29 boxes of supplies have been sent to the hospitals of Cairo, Bird’s Point, Mound City, Paducah, Cape Girardeau, Shawneetown, Keokuk, the St. Louis Sanitary Commission, the Mississippi Harbor fleet, and to the wounded upon the field immediately after the battles of Fort Donelson and Shiloh. The following articles were contained in these boxes or distributed at Camp Butler: 500 cotton shirts, three flannel shirts, 522 pair cotton drawers, 259 pair woolen socks, 122 pair cotton socks, 155 pair slippers, 23 calico wrappers, 20 pair mittens, 186 bed Sacks, 243 sheets, 255 feather pillows, nine moss pillows, 154 pillow ticks, 676 pillowcases, for blankets, 102 comfortables, 213 linen handkerchiefs, 576 towels, 11 curtains, eyeshades, 12 furnished needle books, 18 pincushions, 231 palm leaf fans, 2492 bandages, 13 boxes adhesive plaster, 24 pounds Castile soap, 190 pounds cornstarch in barley, furina tea, crackers, etc.; lint, sponges, pains, and linen; dried, canned, preserved and pickled fruits; jams, jellies, foreign and domestic wines and cordials. Of articles somewhat worn: 312 cotton shirts, six flannel shirts, 112 pair cotton drawers, 13 pair summer pantaloons, 19 summer coats, 21 comfortables, 13 sheets, 11 blankets, 234 towels and 76 pocket handkerchiefs.

In addition to this list we have furnished 146 articles of clothing for female nurses in the hospitals of Cairo, Paducah and elsewhere.

We close the year and responding to an urgent call from the surgeon of the Mississippi Harbor fleet for the supplies rendered necessary by the enlargement of the hospital boat to accommodate 50 more patients. This will nearly exhaust our treasury, but past experience has taught us to work hopefully on, trusting that generous friends will not fail us in time of need.

. . .

While praying that the blessings of peace may soon be vouchsafed to our now distracted country, but is resolved that so long as men must bleed and die upon the field of conflict, we too will be found, ever vigilant and faithful, at our allotted post of duty.

Respectfully submitted,

Mrs. L. Tilton, Sec.

Thus, it is no wonder that Mrs. Tilton was generous with her home and her time for a few random soldiers on the streets of Springfield in May 1865.

[1] https://www.nps.gov/museum/exhibits/liho/houseTour.html

[2] As reprinted in the Illinois State Journal, September 11, 1862.

———————————————————————————————————————

October 1861 Alton Incident Addendum[1] (added 6 November 2020)

Since the previous posting on 30 October about the Alton incident involving the “Princeton Regiment,” there has been additional information that has come to my attention. Perhaps the most important piece is the following “order,” I will call it, regarding the recruitment of soldiers in Illinois, from the “Commander in Chief,” Illinois Governor Richard Yates.

State of Illinois

Head Quarters, Commander in Chief

Springfield October 23^rd 1861.

While acknowledging the unity of interest which bind citizens of all loyal States in a common support of the Government a sense of State pride and the duties to be performed for the interests of this Commonwealth lead one to encourage all her patriotic sons who desire to take up arms for the Union, to attach themselves only to the forces of Illinois, and to aid them in this and enable the State to discharge her whole duty to the Federal Government – recruiting within the limits of this State for the military organizations of other States is hereby forbidden, and recruiting officers not representing companies or regiments organizing under orders from these Head Quarters are notified to withdraw immediately.

Rich. Yates

Governor[2]

(The bolding in my doing.)

It can well be imagined, given the date of this order and the occurrence of the Alton incident on October 29, that it may not have reached any military recruiters in Bureau County and, specifically, Colonel Winslow recruiting in Princeton, Illinois.

The following is from the History of Bureau County, Illinois, which chronicles Colonel Winslow’s recruitment saga.

F. Winslow received directly from the Secretary of War authority to raise a regiment, and established a camp at the fair grounds in Princeton, calling in several of the organized companies that had taken part in the 4th of July, and several from adjoining counties. Pending the organization of the regiment communications were had with Col. Berdan, who was raising a regiment of sharpshooters in St. Louis, and it was proposed that the Bureau Regiment should join them and form a brigade. The proposition was favorably entertained by all, from Col. Winslow to the drummer boys, and everything was working to that end. A steamboat was chartered to convey the command from De Pue to St. Louis, and on being notified of its arrival at De Pue orders were issued by Col. Winslow for the regiment to be readv to march early next morning. While all these movements were progressing other matters were attracting attention. Although the regiment was being formed under authority conferred upon Col. Winslow, and although there was a general understanding that he was to be the Colonel, it became evident during the weeks that he was in charge of the camp that most of the officers and a large portion of the men were not satisfied with the prospect of having him for Colonel. Perhaps any other man under the opportunity for criticism that a sort of trial period gave would have been equally unsatisfactory, but whether that be so or not it is certain that he became extremely unpopular, and it was rather an open secret about the time of leaving for St. Louis that probably it would not be Winslow that would be elected Colonel. It is presumable that Winslow did not realize this until the St. Louis movement had reached its climax, and until after he had ordered the march out of camp. On the Sunday morning appointed [probably October 27, 1861], at an early hour, he headed the march, and all went well until the public square was reached, when he ordered a halt, and proceeded to address the men, rather urging them that it would be better for all concerned not to go to St. Louis, but instead to march back to camp and think it over. His talk was not very pointed, and at a pause some one at the head of the column gave the order in a loud, clear voice, ” forward march! ” and as the troops were pointed toward the east the march was taken up, and Col. Winslow saw his men march off without him; still, however, under the orders issued by himself the night before, and not countermanded. He attempted to stop them by calling after them, but they did not hear him.

It was found that the telegraph would not work at Princeton, so a messenger was sent to Maiden, and the Governor appealed to to [sic] stop the runaways, as they were called. Up to this time there had been no objections made to enlistments in any State of men belonging to other States, and the proposition for a squad, company or regiment to go to another State to enlist caused no surprise nor raised any objection. But just at this time it began to be looked into somewhat as to what each State was doing toward its quotas under the calls for troops, and Gov. Yates ordered that no more Illinois men should go out of the State to enlist, and the order was fresh when our men were on their way to St. Louis. The circumstances were not fully explained to the Governor, and he ordered the party stopped at Alton, and when the boat hove in sight a cannon was fired for it to round to and land. The men mistook this for a salute of honor, and again cheered and shouted in great glee. What heroes they were already! And the boat whistled and steamed along in the current, and another and another gun were fired in front of it. At last a whizzing cannon ball plunged into the water just in front of the vessel. The transformation scene on the boat was instantaneous — the next shot would tear through it unless it promptly started toward land. ” And then there was hurrying to and fro, and whisperings of distress, and cheeks all pale that but a moment ago blushed at the sight of their own loveliness, ” and the boat started for the shore. The behavior of a single individual may serve as an index to the whole. A man who was accompanying the soldiers expecting to be Chaplain, had arrayed himself in a cocked hat and tall plumes, and looking like George Washington. He supposed the salute at first was in his exclusive honor, but when the tune changed and the solid facts of the case were realized, his hat was ofi” in a jifiy, the chicken feathers taken out and trampled under his feet, the cock taken out of his hat and he shrank back upon himself, and no Quaker ever was more a man of peace than was this erst Continental hero. The regiment was arrested the moment the boat landed, disarmed of their swords and guns, and they were headed for the old building of the Alton Penitentiary. . . .

This was a great surprise to all concerned, and a grievous disappointment. The men were soon ordered to Springfield, and after matters were explained to the Governor were relieved of any imputation of having attempted an improper act, for at the time they left Princeton none knew of the order against leaving the State. Shortly afterward they were sent to Chicago, and became a part of the Fifty-seventh Regiment. Col. Winslow did not seem to be recognized as having any sort of claim upon the men by anyone. He perhaps expected that they would be sent back here, or that he would be ordered to resume his command, but his connection with them ended on that bright Sunday morning.[3]

(Again, the bolding is mine.)

From the above: “. . .when the boat hove in sight a cannon was fired for it to round to and land. The men mistook this for a salute of honor, and again cheered and shouted in great glee. What heroes they were already!” This part of the description implies the recruits’ complete ignorance of the recent Governor Yates order. Did Winslow and the other officers onboard realize their intention to go to St. Louis to enlist the men was potentially in violation of that order? It seems “probably not.”

The following two regimental histories for the 57^th Illinois Infantry also contain parts of the “Princeton Regiment” story.

HISTORY OF THE FIFTY-SEVENTH INFANTRY.

The Fifty-seventh Illinois Infantry was recruited from various portions of the State, during the autumn of 1861, under the call of President Lincoln for 300.000 troops. Company A was enlisted with headquarters at Mendota; companies C, E, G and I with rendezvous at Chicago. These five companies, with other fragments, became quartered at Camp Douglas under Silas D. Baldwin, and were designated as the Fifty-seventh Regiment. Companies B, F, H and K were recruited in Bureau county, and in the early part of September went into quarters at Camp Bureau, near Princeton, under authority of Governor Yates granted to R. F. Winslow, of Princeton, to recruit a Regiment to be known as the Fifty-sixth Infantry. Company D. composed wholly of Swedes, was recruited at Bishop Hill, in Henry county, and joined under Winslow at Princeton. These companies, with one other,—which subsequently became a part of the Forty-fifth Illinois Infantry—went to Springfield in October by order of Governor Yates, and from there were sent to Camp Douglas, in the southern part of the City of Chicago, under F. J. Hurlbut. These two parts of Regiments (the Fifty-sixth and Fifty-seventh) were consolidated in December, and on the 26th day of the month were mustered into the United States Service as the Fifty-seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, with S. D. Baldwin as Colonel; F. J. Hurlbut, Lieutenant Colonel; N. B. Page, Major; N. E. Hahn, Adjutant: E. Hamilton, Quartermaster; J. R. Zearing. Surgeon, and H. S. Blood. First Assistant Surgeon— the chaplaincy being vacant. February 8, 1862, the Regiment, with about 975 enlisted men, fully officered, armed with old Harper’s Ferry muskets altered from flint-locks, and com- manded by Col. Baldwin, left Camp Douglas over the Illinois Central Railroad, under orders for Cairo. ILL., where it arrived on the evening of the 9th, thence direct by the steamer Minnehaha, to Fort Henry, on the Tennessee River, which had been evacuated by the enemy and taken possession of by our forces.[4]

In the above, “went to Springfield in October by Order of Governor Yates,” while technically true, sidesteps the incident at Alton and the recruits being made prisoners in getting to Springfield. Another history for the regiment simplifies its organization even more.

HISTORY OF THE 57th ILLINOIS.

The organization of the 57th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry was commenced in Chicago, ILL., Sept. 24, 1861, at Camp Douglas, by Col. S. D. Baldwin. At the same time, the 56th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry was perfecting its organization in Camp Bureau, at Princeton, ILL., under the command of Colonel Winslow. Governor Yates, of Illinois, ordered, the 56th Regiment to report to Camp Douglas, Chicago. Troops being needed at the front, and neither of the above organizations being perfect, having only five companies each, Governor Yates ordered a consolidation of the two, and they were mustered into the United States service Dec. 26, 1861, as the 57th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, and numbered 1025 men.[5]

In summary, a combination of miscommunication or missing orders and perhaps a dissatisfaction among some or many of the recruits raised at Princeton resulted in the stopping of the steamboat Jacob Musselman at Alton. As far as can be ascertained, no charges were filed against Winslow regarding this incident.

[1] A gold star goes to Glenna Schroeder-Lein for the “Chronicling Illinois” reference regarding the Yates papers from the Wabash collection. Two gold stars to Robert I. Girardi for finding the pertinent bits in the History of Bureau County and pointing out the relevant Illinois infantry histories. Both of these scholars made this addendum possible and to them I give my sincere thanks.

[2] http://alplm-cdi.com/chroniclingillinois/items/show/20270

[3] H. C. Bradsby (ed.), History of Bureau County, Illinois (Chicago: World Publishing Co., 1885), 348-50.

[4] Reece, Brigadier General J. N. Report of the Adjutant General of the State of Illinois. Reports for the years 1861–1866, revised edition, vols. 1–8 (Springfield, IL: Phillips Bros., 1900), 4:66.

[5] William W. Cluett, History of the 57^th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry (Princeton, IL: T. P. Streeter, 1886), 5.

———————————————————————————————————————

October 1861 Alton Incident (added 30 October 2020)

Were there any Civil War battles in Illinois?

No, there were not. There certainly were isolated guerrilla incidents and some small-scale, local incursions.[1] However, there were a few instances, especially early in the war, where projectiles were directed in warning at suspected Confederate-sympathizing vessels on the Mississippi River, along Illinois’s western border. Some of these occurred at Cairo, where, at Fort Defiance, for example, cannons were put in place to stop boats heading south to inspect if they were carrying goods to aid the Confederacy’s war efforts.

Cairo, Illinois, April 7, 1864, to friend, Mr. Tailor Ridgway

there was a big boat tried to run by here yesterday with contraband goods on her and our boys got in to the fort and opened a sixty four pound cannon on her and I tell you she bawled they shot at her three times and she came to shore a howling. and they arrested her captain and put him in the guard house. that is what a fellow gets for trying to be a rebel, to his country. there is a great many boats runing now and they are doing a big business.

—Corporal Jeremiah Butcher, 122nd Infantry, Macoupin County

In 1861, apparently there was a sort of Illinois “recruitment war” with Missouri. This is the 159^th anniversary of an incident at Alton, Illinois, that resulted in imprisoning about 300 men, albeit not Confederates and merely potential Union volunteers.

Military Excitement.—Our citizens were somewhat astonished this morning to find our levee in possession of a detachment of troops from Camp Butler, who had come down during the night. They had planted a cannon on the levee, and thus established a blockade. Their purpose was to intercept and stop some 400 troops who becoming dissatisfied with matters in their camp, somewhere in the northern part of the state, had started off for Missouri via the Illinois River. One or two boats were stopped in the morning, but no runaways being found, they were allowed to proceed.
At about half past ten, however, the looked for boat appeared having in tow a barge loaded with soldiers. She was greeted with two blank cartridges, to which no attention was paid. A ball was then fired which struck the bow of the barge, damaging it somewhat. This being rather too close work, she rounded to and the entire party of military passengers were taken prisoners. The officers, in command were required to deliver up their swords and, after some delay, both officers and men were marched under guard, into the old Penitentiary, where at the time of writing this, they remain.[2]

A newly-promoted corporal at Camp Butler wrote a letter to friends at home (as well as making personal diary entries) that described his regiment’s involvement in stopping and seizing potential volunteer soldiers headed to perhaps St. Louis, Missouri, by way of the Mississippi River.

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, October 31, 1861, to sister, Eliza

About 12 oclock on Monday night our regiment received orders to pack knapsacks and get ready for an amediate march to Jimtown, the nearest station on the Springfield railroad. We were soon ready and in one hour and fifteen minutes from the roll of the drum we were at the station. There 250 men were taken from the regiment and the rest sent back to camp. We amediately got aboard the train which was in readiness and started westward, no one knew where or for what purpose except, perhaps, the officers. Several artilerists accompanied us with a brass six pounder.

A few miles beyond Springfield, at the junction, we changed cars to the Chicago, Alton and St. Louis Rail Road and continued in a westward direction, arriving at Alton about daybreak. Here I had a view of the Mississippi for the first time. Two large steamboats were lying at the wharf at the time and were quite a sight to me, having never seen one before. After we had dismounted from the cars and had formed in line on the river back, 20 rounds of cartridges were given to each man. An Enfield Rifled Musket was then given to each man; these were loaded and stacked on the river bank. The object of the expedition now became known to us. Some troops which were in camp at Princ[e]ton in this state, becoming dissatisfied, had started down the river on a steamer for some place in Missouri to join a regiment of sharpshooters in that state. The Governor determined to stop them and it was for this purpose that we were at Alton.

Several men were placed on a high bluff overlooking the river who were to give the signal of the boats approaching by raising a flag. About 11 oclock the flag was raised and we were soon in ranks ready to give them a volly if it should be necessary to do so. As the boat approached the town two blank cartridges from the six pounder were fired at her. This failing to bring here [her] to shore, a ball was next fired striking her on the bow. This brought her to the wharf where she was fastened. No one was injured by the 3^rd shot, but it [was] said that had the ball struck the boat a foot or two higher it must have killed several. Colonel Davis with a squad of men now went on board and demanded that the officers should give up their swords which they did. The men, about 300 I think, were then taken to the old penitentiary where they remained until 10 oclock in the evening when we started with them for Camp Butler which we reached about 4 oclock the next morning. During the day we were exposed to a cold, piercing wind with clouds of sand and dust making it very disagreable. I do not know what will be done with the prisoners. We will know perhaps in a few days. There in less than 28 hours after we left camp we were back again having traveled over 150 miles.

—Corporal Thomas Clingman, 46th Infantry, Stephenson County

Subsequently, in the Springfield newspapers, there appeared statements – pro and con – concerning the nature of how volunteer soldiers in Illinois were recruited to fill regiments. Here is part of one of the articles.

We published yesterday a statement made by Messrs. Thompson and others, in reference to the affair of the Princeton Regiment, arrested for mutiny on board the Jacob Mussleman at Alton. We give today a counter statement by Col. Winslow, by whom the Regiment was raised. We do not see what advantage can result to either party by parading the matter in the newspapers; but as we have let one side have it say, we deem it no more than justice to allow the other the same opportunity. Our space, however, is not equal to an extended warfare of words, and we shall here shut down on any further publications. The trouble must be settled by the governor, and the parties in interest will please submit their grievances to him. We shall make no comment upon the communications which have been published, further than to say that they give an inside view of the manner in which the independent recruiting business has been carried on in this state, which is quite refreshing. In this light, if in no other, Col. Winslow’s statement will be found interesting.[3]

Suffice it to say the Thompson et al. and the Winslow statements are of “the one said/the other said” variety, involving promises made by a number of parties, including Missouri interests, and expectations not met. Were the actions by the “Princeton Regiment” individuals treasonous? Probably not, unless their intentions were to join a Confederate regiment in Missouri, which does not appear to be the case.

The following is not directly related to the “Alton affair” (even if the timing might suggest otherwise), but it does highlight a complication when Illinois soldiers join, en masse, out-of-state regiments.

Springfield, Illinois, October 31, 1861, to “His Ex’y Gov. Yates:”

Dear Sir: I was one of the many Illinois men who raised men in this State to carry to Missouri to give a prestige to Unionism there; and one of the many swindled out of a command to make place for St. Louis aspirants. Of the sixth Reg’t, to which I belonged, 9-10ths of the men are Illinoisans, and yet the whole of the staff and 9 of the 10 captains are St. Louis men. Sick of the scramble for shoulder straps, I joined Capt. Burnap’s Cavalry as a private . . .

—former Private Charles L. Wheeler, Burnap’s Cavalry, Missouri (Union)

Around this same time, Illinois Governor Yates did accept companies from other states to serve in Illinois regiments. This was at a time when states were generally meeting federal quotas for enlisting soldiers. It is worth noting that Illinois officials, regarding subsequent federal calls for soldiers, argued that previous overages enlisted during this period should be counted as part of Illinois’s required contributions. Here is an example.

Springfield, Illinois, August 21, 1862, to “Hon. E. M. Stanton”

It is now evident that Illinois on the 22d will have 50,000 enrolled volunteers for three-years’ service. Please inform me fully whether for excess of quota the State is to have credit for the number required for old regiments now in the field, and also what is expected of us in such case as to drafting.

Richard Yates, Gov. of Illinois

Meanwhile in November 1861, the Princeton Regiment men were held at Camp Butler (near Clear Lake), which at that time had little in the way of permanent structures. Corporal Clingman noted in his diary on November 9, 1861 that: “Our ’Alton prisoners’ left camp for Chicago this morning. After they had gone, myself with five others from our company assisted in taking down the tents that they occupied while here.”

[1] See Daniel E. Sutherland, A Savage Conflict: The Decisive Role of Guerrillas in the American Civil War (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2009), regarding a few Illinois examples.

[2] “Military Excitement,” Alton Telegraph (Alton, Illinois), November 1, 1861, p. 3.

[3] “The Princeton Regiment Again,” Illinois State Journal (Springfield), November 1, 1861, p. 2.

———————————————————————————————————————

Springfield’s Camp Yates (added 23 October 2020)

In the book, there are a few mentions of Camp Yates in Springfield. How big was Camp Yates and how much was it utilized during the Civil War?

[Editor’s note: This post contains some additional information from the previous post on Camp Yates in December 2019.]

On page 94, there is a brief quotation from Private William Clarke who wrote from an aging Camp Yates. Below is the full letter, which illustrates some of the latter-day characteristics of Camp Yates.

May 1^st 1864 Camp Yates Springfield Illinois

Dear Father and Mother

I take my pen in hand to let you know how I am I am well at present in every respect my leg feels as well as it ever did. I hope this will find you all better health than I left you. I am doing very well here this time I get all I can eat of prety good grub we have A decent table to eat of of and decent grub to eat of it we have plenty beef boild and fried we have potatoes and warm bread. tea and Coffee and sugar and vegtable soup and Chairs to sit on while we eat we have allso good beds to sleep on in the Hospital. there is no ketchin desease here except the Mumps and Irresiples and Measles there has two died here since I come here I am not in the Hospital mutch except at night I help in the cook house some but most of the time I am scouting around through the country runing about Springfield with no control guard to cheer and no guards to pass to get in and out of Camp there is but one guard in camp and he is at the gate most all the fence around camp has bin tore down by the 8^th Cavelry but all the Troops have left here except the Convalescents and A few sick the sutler is broke up and gone. the Magor is gone to Camp Butler and A familey lives in his office Lieutenant Elliot has gone to his Regiment his office is shut up so is the post office the Barricks are deserted and so is the Hospital that I was in before there is not one Corperal to be found in Camp the only places that is inhabited is the Hospital the Cook house Doctors office and the guard House the guard House is full of Copperheads that was taken at Charleston Coles County they are doomed to be executed as A warning to other Copperheads to show them how weak and foolish it is to try to resist the Goverment. the Ladies furnish us plenty of Books Magazines and News papers to read; Sunday one of my Comrads and me went to Springfield to Presbiterian Church, in the afternoon the Young Missionaries and Tract distributers Come through the hospital distributen Tracts and Sunday School Advocates and Repositaves they were from eight to 14 years old I guees I mean the Boys not the papers. it is A good thing I took some monney with me for I have not drawed anny yet but expect to shortly I have not had A chance to have any likenesses taken yet when I do I will send Marys to you and you can send it to her I want you to write to me immediately and let me know how you all are and let me know wether you have heard from Mary yet and send me the letter I wrote to Mary Elen you will find it in the History of the World and send me the directions to her and to Cousin Sarah and Uncle Michael, and if there is any letters come there for me I wish you would please put it inside of another Envelope and send it to me

No more at present

From your affectionate Son

William R. Clarke

—Private William Clarke, 8th Cavalry, Pike County

Like so many temporary mustering camps, Camp Yates essentially was the result of commandeering the local fairgrounds. At the time, those fairgrounds were on the western edge of Springfield. Today, that area is bound by Washington Street (N), Governor Street (S), Lincoln Avenue (W), and Douglas Avenue (E), which is roughly 1,400’ by 600’ or about 19.25 acres. As a point of comparison, Civil War Camp Butler (at its final location) was about 40 acres, 15 of which was for Confederate prisoners of war in 1862-63.

Most of these temporary mustering camps were closed by 1862, as Camp Douglas (then, near Chicago) and Camp Butler (near Springfield) were designated as the two main “camps of instruction” in Illinois. However, Camp Yates lingered on, perhaps because it was politically difficult to decommission something in the capital city named after the sitting governor.

Private Clarke wrote “the Magor is gone to Camp Butler and A familey lives in his office.” He probably is referring to Major James J. Heffernan, the former Camp Yates commandant, who left in April 1864 to fill that same post at Camp Butler, replacing Lieutenant Colonel Reuben L. Sidwell (of the 108^th Illinois Infantry Regiment). “A familey lives in his office” possibly may refer to the same building then-Colonel Ulysses S. Grant occupied in June and early 1861 while in charge of the 21^st Illinois Infantry Regiment at Camp Yates. A plaque in the west wall of the current Dubois Elementary School on South Lincoln Avenue in Springfield lists the regiments who were at Camp Yates.

Below, this stone commemorative marker, originally placed near the corner of Douglas and Governor streets in 1909, was moved to the Dubois Elementary School west grounds.

This same corner where the stone marker was originally located may also have been the site of the house Colonel Grant lived in for about a month while at Camp Yates. That house still exists and now is a private home standing at 119 South Walnut Street in Springfield.

Image credit: Daily Herald

The first-floor extension, on the right in this image, is an addition since Grant’s occupancy.

Private Clarke also wrote “the guard House is full of Copperheads that was taken at Charleston Coles County they are doomed to be executed as A warning to other Copperheads to show them how weak and foolish it is to try to resist the Goverment.” Regarding this part of the letter, I included the following explanation on pages 94-5 of the book.

On March 28, 1864, there was a Copperhead–soldier clash in Charleston, Illinois. It was reported some participants had been drinking heavily and that personal animosities existed, both of which likely served as fuel for the subsequent fighting. The incident on the courthouse square was brief, but it left nine people dead (including two Copperheads and six soldiers) and several others wounded. Although the Copperheads were run out of town, eventually some of the participants were taken prisoner, and some were charged with murder. For a while, fifteen of those arrested in Coles County were imprisoned at Camp Yates, Springfield. None of the murder charges stuck, and some participants so charged were never apprehended. None of those held at Camp Yates were executed.

[Editor’s note: some of the information for the above came from a 2005 article by Bob Cavanagh that appeared in the weekly Illinois Times. https://www.illinoistimes.com/springfield/history-talk-6-30-05/Content?oid=11446135]

———————————————————————————————————————

Presidential proclamations for more soldiers (added 16 October 2020)

How many Lincoln presidential proclamations were there for additional Civil War soldiers?

Here is table of the major Federal requests for soldiers, along with the quotas for Illinois to fulfill those requests.[1]

Date of Proclamation Number of Federal Soldiers Illinois’s Quota

15 April 1861 75,000 (90 days) 6 regiments (about 6,000 soldiers)

8 May 1861* 42,034 (3 years) 6 regiments (+ 4 more regiments accepted)

1 July 1862* 300,000 (3 years) 26,148

5 August 1862* 300,000 (3 months) 26,148

15 June 1863 100,000 0 (applied only to named states)

17 October 1863 300,000 (3 years) 27,930

1 February 1864* 500,000** (3 years) 18,379 (46, 309 – 27,930 = 18,379)

14 March 1864* 200,000 (3 years) 18,524

18 July 1864 500,000 (1, 2, or 3 yrs) 52,057

19 December 1864 300,000 (1, 2, or 3 yrs) 32,892

* not in the form of a presidential proclamation (e.g., Executive order)

** increased the 17 October 1863 amount by 200,000

There were five national presidential proclamations for Civil War soldiers. The remaining soldier requests were in the form of Executive orders or presidential instructions to the military. The quotas for Illinois do not add up to the number of Illinois soldiers who served in the military for a variety of reasons and, frankly, it is complicated. Some of the factors include credits to Illinois for previous volunteer enlistments, discrepancies between Illinois’s accounting of enlisted soldiers and those of the Federal authorities regarding Illinois’s numbers, Illinois voluntarily organized (through Governor Yates) thirteen regiments for 100-day enlistments to serve mainly as guards and to do other non-combat duties (e.g., stationed at forts), and Illinois was lagging on numbers to fulfill its quota for the 19 December 1864 proclamation but the ending of the war erased the need for further recruitment. Regarding soldiers from Illinois, it is worth noting that some of its citizens enlisted in other states, such as Missouri.

[1] Some of the Illinois quota information came from Clyde C. Walton, Illinois and the Civil War (Springfield: IL Secretary of State, 1961).

———————————————————————————————————————

Mobile, Alabama explosion (added 9 October 2020)

On page 69 of the book, there is a description of the explosion of an ammunition depot at Mobile, Alabama. What else is known about that accident?

[Editor’s note: this is part 2 of 2 regarding Civil War accidents.]

Here is a somewhat longer version – in fact, almost the entire letter – of Principal Musician Coe’s description of the May 25, 1865 accident.

Mobile, Alabama, May 29, 1865

Dear Bro” & Sister

Yours of date May 9^th & 13^th came in to day and I sit down to answer it. The truth is I have written but little for a few days Past. The weather is warm and I am lazy, honest to own up to it, [illegible word] it. I have been down to the city of mobile but once since the Regiment came here. I went to Town last Friday to take a view of the ruins. you have seen accounts of the explosion ere this. I sent you two Papers, and one to the Pantagraph. I never in my life saw a complete wreck before. I have seen fires in cities and towns, but this blow up was the most awful accidents I have seen. We are four miles from the city, and yet the concussion was so great that men that were asleep in their tents were awakened. I was sitting at my tent and when I heard the report I looked toward the city. Saw a dense colum of rising [smoke] almost Perpendicular several hundred feet in the air and then moving slowly off over the Bay. it was a magnificent sight. The smoke was light colored and rolled and curled in the air, in short, it was grand grand succeeding the explosion was a rumbling noise for a miniut or two like a dozen train of cars going over a long bridge, yet not so even. the distance from our camp to town does not look to be four miles, and we thought at the time that some of the magazines at the Forts this side of town had blown up as the smoke did not look as though it was more than a mile and a half from us. We can not see the city from here on account of the timber. the noise after the explosion was caused by the falling rubish, and the shells exploding in the air as their must have been several hundred tons of amunition stored there. and a vast amount of it thrown into the air, and thousands of the shells were set on fire and exploding while in the air. the Paper stated that there were //600,000 Rounds of musket Cartriges in the store house but I have not seen any statement how much other amunition there was. the streets for a circle of 6 or 8 squares [blocks] around the Ware house that was blown up are covered with shot and shell of all sizes. Wagon loads and tons and tons of it could be Pick up of all kinds. musket balls bushells of them, and shot and shell of all sizes. a great quantity of them were 4, 6, & 8 inch solid shot and shell that did not explode some of them half burried in the Pavement and sidewalks. several squares of buildings were blown all to Peices the lumber fairly splintered into Kindlings. the blinds, Windows, doors of buildings not blown down were shattered for 6 and 8 squares. A train of Cars one and a half squares off were set on fire and burned. not even the ties of the road left. Horses were Knocked down in streets 4 & 5 blocks away where the buildings were not thrown down, but the Plastering was on the decline. the sidewalks and streets were covered with broken glass. Some of the streets so filled up with brick, morter, boards and timber, dead Horses, mules Cows & Hogs &c. that a team could not get through. in one yard I saw 50 dead mules laying on a space the size of your door yard or grass Plot. government mules, a great many more were Killed also Horses. and as to how many lives were lost it is not known yet. I will send you Papers as soon as Published. I can not discribe the scene. so you can have an idea of it. it is beyond the Power of the Pen.

You ask me to enquire after a mr Ollis I see in the Paper an adv. Ollis and Toulman, and intended to call at the shop last friday but I saw that its location was in the ruins, and did not go to it, as the shells were then bursting, and are up to this date. can hear them out to our Camp. I suppose there are tons of shells burried in the rubbish. the shells are Packed in boxes, and the burning mass touches them off, and how long they will burn and explode no one knows, until a heavy rain. the engine[er]s were at work all night and day that I were down at the city. I will call and see if I can find Mr Ollis if I go to Town again.

. . .

Your aff Bro. Proctor.[1]

—Principal Musician Proctor Coe, 94th Infantry, McLean County

The ordnance depot in Mobile contained confiscated Confederate ammunition and gunpowder, perhaps around 200 tons worth. Why was there an explosion? Was it because of carelessness? Open fire or flames? At this point in the war, after major hostilities had ended, it seems rather unlikely it was due to some Confederate plot.

The following set of reports is taken from a May 30, 1865 New York Times article.

CHICAGO, Monday, May 26.

The Tribune has a special dispatch from New Orleans, dated the 26th inst., which says:

The ordnance depot and magazine at Mobile exploded at 2 o’clock yesterday. The shock was terrific. The city was shaken to its very foundations. Eight squares of buildings were destroyed. Five hundred persons were buried in the ruins. The loss is estimated at eight millions of dollars. The origin of the explosion has not yet been ascertained.

MEMPHIS, Saturday, May 27, Via Cairo, Monday, May 29.

The Bulletin’s New-Orleans special says:

On the morning of the 24th inst. the main Ordnance Department, in Marshall’s Warehouse, at Mobile, blew up, with a terrible explosion. About three hundred persons were killed and many wounded. Thousands are buried in the ruins. Eight entire squares of the city were demolished, and about eight thousand bales of cotton destroyed. The steamers Col. Cowles and Kate Dale, with all on board, were entirely destroyed. A great portion of the business centre is badly damaged. The total loss is estimated at three millions.

Gen. GRANGER rendered prompt relief to the sufferers. The cause of the explosion is uncertain. The ordnance stores, which were a portion of the munitions of war surrendered by DICK TAYLOR, were in course of removal when it occurred. The entire city is more or less injured by the explosion.

One of the ironies is that Mobile avoided destruction from Union forces in August 1864 during the military actions surrounding the Battle of Mobile Bay. While there was speculation as to what caused the May 1865 magazine explosion, it has remained an unsolved mystery. Many accidents did happen during the Civil War and the one at Mobile was one of the largest.

[1] My thanks to Glenna Schroeder-Lein who had left her transcription of this letter in the Small Collections folder at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library for others to use. I subsequently made some minor changes to that in the version seen above.

———————————————————————————————————————

Wreck of the “Watson” (added 2 October 2020)

On page 47 of the book, there is a brief description of a steamboat named Watson that sunk. Where did it sink and were there other particulars known about the incident?

[Editor’s note: this is part 1 of 2 regarding Civil War accidents.]

Private John F. M. Fortney wrote a nineteen-page letter shortly after the steamer James Watson was snagged and sunk on the Mississippi River, some miles south of where the Arkansas River flows into the Mississippi. This also was about halfway between Memphis and Vicksburg, which was the usual route of the James Watson. Private Fortney was a new recruit, albeit at age fifty, headed south to join the Illinois 33^rd Infantry regiment as a replacement. The Watson was sunk towards the end of the Civil War on March 2, 1865; Private Fortney’s letter is dated just two days later. The timing may have been such that the James Watson event still was very fresh in his mind and yet he had recovered enough from the shock of the life-threatening incident to write a detailed account of the circumstances surrounding its sinking.

My transcription of the letter here is a modest subset of the entire letter.

White River Landing, Arkansas, March 4, 1865, to a “Dear Sir”

You have heard ere this, some account of the wreck of the steamer, “James Watson” – on her passage from Memphis Tenn, to Vicksburg Miss –

I shall now endeavor to give you the particulars of that calamitous event, as truly and as briefly as possible; . . . [steamer James Watson] She was in size, rather under the medium, but a very beautiful vessel: Handsomely, tho very delicately constructed, seeming to be better adapted for mere pleasure excursions, than for the transportation of such freight as she was laden with. Her officers, are reported to be rebels, and I know from personal observation that they were all addicted to the use of intoxicating drinks. I never saw so much liquor drank by such a few men, as I saw drank on board the watson from the time she got under way this morning till a few hours previous to her wreck – And it is the universal opinion of the passengers who have survived the calamitous accident, if it was an accident, that “Whisky wrecked the Watson” . . . The boat was running at her usual speed, though it was intolerably dark, and the rain descending in perfect torrents. . . . I was preparing to go to bed . . . and while I was adjusting my coat under my head; Crash went the steamer against some object which shook her from stem to stern, and which brought everyone in my presence to their feet; perfect silence ensued for about a minute; . . . I at once started to go below, to find out the cause of the crashing noise we had heard. I had just got to the cabin door when I felt the boat settling down upon her right side. The Captain at the same time rushed frantically past me exclaiming, “my God boys we are lost” the boat is sinking” he then rushed up to the Hurricane deck. I followed him. When I got up the boat had sunk her boiler decks entire & one half of her cabin deck was also completely submerged. By the time the boys below had got up, the boat had turned upon her side, so much that the water upon the side of the Hurricane on which I was standing, was up to my knees & fast rising. . . . A flash of lightning revealed to me an open space upon the Texas [deck], and I made a desperate leap, and succeeded in catching a hold of the cornice around its outer edge; I had got one leg up and would soon have had up the other, when an infernal negro, sprung up and clutched it – here now, was a predicament indeed; I could not hope to hold on very long, while he was hanging to me, and to fall off into the water with him hanging to me would be certain, unavoidable death –

But I could not get him off. no entreaties would prevail upon him to let my leg go. he struggled manfully to clamber up, & I struggled just as manfully to hold on, though I felt my strength growing weaker every moment, but fortunately for me, he succeeded in securing afoot hold, and I had the satisfaction to feel him crawling over me and securing the very place which I marked out for myself. . . . I heard another crashing sound . . . The smoke stacks had given way, and were fast falling into the water; . . . the boat was not sinking any further, but that she was slowly drifting in the current; . . . the boat struck once more and seemed if she was being lifted out of the waters. . . . the Captain announced that the boat was fast upon the sand bar, and that the probability was we would all be saved if we would keep our places till morning.

Fortunately some fellow found the bell which every one supposed had gone over board; . . . The Captain directed it to be struck 5 consecutive strokes then an interval of a minute, then 5 more & so on till the reply was heard. Oh how eagerly was every ear adjusted to catch the answering signal. How awfully still & silent were the men during the interval between the ringing of the bell; At last the eagerly expected signal was heard, and as it floated musically upon the boisterous waters what hopes were excited within the bosoms that had long been filled with despair.

Soon a yawl was sent to ascertain our condition; . . . The rain pouring a perfect deluge upon our devoted heads;

Added to all this, dread thunders, in one peal after another, in rapid & quick succession rolled over our heads, while the flashes of livid lightning, too brilliant for the eye, only added to the intensity of the surrounding blackness; . . . And my thoughts during these two interminable hours oh how bitter, I thought of home. . . . And my companions oh where were they; . . . How many of them, would I be called upon to announce to their hopeful friends at home, as victims of this fatal catastrophe. . . . we passed from the deck of the hideous wreck to the warm & comfortable cabin of the [boat] William Butler;

. . . we snagged the Watson about 12 o’clock in the night, drifted down the river about 25 miles, was rescued by the William Butler at daylight; we had on board 80 men, recruits for different reg^ts, out of the 80 we have lost 22; . . . I cannot say how many citizen passengers were lost nor how many of the crew. Not more than a dozen men escaped uninjured.

—Private John Fortney, 33rd Infantry, Morgan County

There is a transcription of Private Fortney’s entire letter in the Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society.[1] The journal editor added an interesting insight about the timing of the James Watson’s demise vis-a-vis the rest of 33^rd Illinois Infantry regiment in Louisiana.

March 2, 1865, was a disastrous day for the 33^rd Illinois. On that day the regiment, which had been doing garrison duty in Louisiana for nearly a year, entrained for New Orleans. From there, as part of the 16^th Corps, it was to take part in the expedition against Mobile. The entire regiment, except for the recruits who, like Fortney and [David] Miller, were en route, was on the train. About noon, the train struck a horse at a crossing. The second car jumped the track and tipped over; the remaining cars piled into it, and a major disaster ensued. More than eighty men were killed or seriously injured, and the regiment was unfit for duty for several weeks.

Also, in this article is a telegraphic dispatch on March 6, 1865, summarizing the wreck of the Watson.

The Memphis and Vicksburg packet James Watson, laden with Government freight, a large number of passengers and 86 soldiers, sunk 12 miles below Napoleon Landing on the morning of the 2d. Over 30 lives were lost, including Adams’ Express messenger, 20 soldiers, several ladies and children. The officers of the boat were mostly saved. The steamer and cargo is a total loss.

Accidents of all sorts, including those involving transportation, were not uncommon during the Civil War. Some are well remembered, such as the sinking of the Sultana when its boilers exploded on April 27, 1865 and resulted in perhaps more than 1,500 deaths. There were many other, smaller accidents, but they could be just as deadly for those at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

[1] “The Wreck of the James Watson,” Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society, 37:1 (March 1944), 213-28.

———————————————————————————————————————

Soldiers paid in “greenbacks” (added 25 September 2020)

In a few places in the book, you include soldiers’ general references to “greenbacks.” Were Illinois and Union soldiers paid in greenbacks?

Strawberry Plains, Tennessee, March 26, 1864, to uncle, Gilbert Durin

there is Some talk of Soldiers pay being ra[i]sed. there is and of it, for they dont giv ous full rations, and we hafto buy half of the grub we eat. So it takes all the pay we get now. I havent Sent any money home for a long time. I dont Supose Father would know what to do with it if I did he has So much of Lincoln Green Back. I hope he will be rich enuf to Set me up in the world when I get out of this Show.

—Private Densla Holton, 89th Infantry, Lee County

I am not particularly well-versed regarding the ins and outs of nineteenth century U.S. currency, but I will attempt an outline here about the origins of “greenbacks.”

Initially, the Union leaders thought (and hoped) the Civil War would be a brief conflict and thus not become a major drain on the U.S. treasury. However, by the second half of 1861, it already was becoming clear that the war was going to be more expensive than perhaps either side had hoped. Prior to the Civil War, money consisted primarily of bank notes that were issued by the various local banks. Their worth was partially dependent on the solvency of the individual banks that issued the respective notes. The national currency (and held by banks) was gold and silver coins.

Bonds were initially sold to finance the war, but it was soon realized within the Lincoln administration that something else needed to be done to raise funds. The U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, Salmon B. Chase, looked into getting loans from New York banks, for example, but the interest rates were too high to be tempting. Another possibility was to procure loans from other countries, which meant long-term debt to foreign powers. President Lincoln found that unpalatable. The solution chosen took the form of the Legal Tender Act, signed into law on 26 February 1862, which allowed the Federal government to print up to $150 million in various denominations. Prior to that, the U.S. was paying soldiers’ salaries and other war-related debts with “demand notes,” an early form of greenbacks. The Legal Tender Act gradually replaced the demand notes with U.S. “paper notes.” As the war dragged on, the Federal government essentially “doubled down” by printing more money through the 1863 (second) Legal Tender Act, this time to issue an additional $300 million.

The bills were printed on the front with black, green, and red inks, and on the back in just green ink (and hence slangily referred to as “greenbacks”). On the fronts, Salmon Chase was on the $1 bill, Alexander Hamilton (with different portraits) on the $2 and $5 bills, and Abraham Lincoln on the $10 bill, as examples.

In theory, this currency could be exchanged for gold and silver coins at banks. In practice, especially during the war, the paper money fluctuated in worth, meaning something less than their full intended value. Its value varied with the Union’s war fortunes.

Camp Defiance at Cairo, Illinois, June 1861, to brother

I had my picture taken last week and I should have sent to you but I had not the jink [coins?] to do it with for the money that you sent me while I was in the Hospital it went down so as to be worth only 30 Cents on the dollar or else I should have had money left when you write send me some post stamps say 50 Cents worth and then I will send my Picture

—Private Thomas Barnett, 9th Infantry, Madison County

Once the war was over, the currency was valued at about $150 paper equaled $100 of gold at a bank. (And, similarly, the Confederate States of America’s paper currency became completely worthless.)

Loudon, Tennessee, April 22, 1865, to Mrs. Sarah Gregg

I think that we will Soon Be in Springfield to Be Mustered out of the Service. . . . we havent Been Paid off in Eight months and Still Looking for it and if it Dont Come Pretty Soon we will All be Flat of [on] our Backs with the Green Back Fever and you Know that is a Bad disease Good or Bad I would Be Glad to take a Double Doce of Green Backs to pay I hope that you will Excuse my Foolish talk I do it Just to Pass Away the Lonily Hours of Camp Life dear and Kind Friend I hope that we will Soon See you again for I Believe that this Cruel War is a Baut at a Close . . . Listen to hear that Peace is declared and you may Be Shure when that Good News is Announced we will Burn Some Gun Powder then we will Return Home and have a Feast and a Grand Fandango then I hope that we will Rest at Peace

—Privates John and Russell Conner, Henshaw’s Battery, Light Artillery, Jersey County

Gradually, over the course of the next dozen years or so, the U.S. paper notes’ value rose to be on par with gold. They continued to be printed with green ink, perhaps because they garnered a good reputation by becoming reliably valued and thus used as the common currency.

———————————————————————————————————————

Letter preservation biases (added 18 September 2020)

At book presentations, you have stated that collectively Illinois Civil War soldiers wrote millions of letters. If there is only a fraction of those millions left today, are the remaining letters fairly representative of the entire lot?

I will first borrow a quotation from the book (p. 18).

Memphis, Tennessee, August 14, 1863, to sister, Addie Tower

am now working on Knight work in the Post Office. work from 7.30 P.M to 3. A. M . . . usually stroll about town 12. untill 3 then sleep untill 4 or 5 as we have the distribution of all the army mail matter have to work pretty lively. generally mail from 20 to 50 thousand letters per day and some times as his [high as] 75000—.

—Private John Cottle, 15th Infantry, McHenry County

Private Cottle does not mention if this is mail coming or going, so I will assume both. Also, only a fraction of them would be from soldiers from Illinois. For the sake of an illustration, I will assume only 5,000 a day were from Illinois soldiers going through the post office at Memphis. If this volume kept up for a year, then 5,000 x 365 = 1,825,000 letters mailed by Illinois soldiers. Another way to look at it is, if each of the Illinois total of 259,092 Civil War soldiers wrote just four letters during their time in the service, that would be 259,092 x 4 = 1,036,368 letters. So, to say that Illinois soldiers wrote “millions” of letters is a reasonable assumption.

In addressing the preservation of soldiers’ letters, the likelihood of them being in the current private or public domains is low. During the Civil War, for example, one of the best ways to preserve privacy was simply to burn letters after they had been read.

Larkinsville, Alabama, April 23, 1864, to wife, Sarah

if you want to tell me any secret about any thing just right on aslip of paper then I can burn it do you want me to save all my letters and send them home or burn them

—Private Isaiah Dillon, 111th Infantry, Marion County

On the other end of the preservation scale, some soldiers’ letters were gathered from willing families and published by newspaper editors of the day because they represented news about the war and were of local interest.

Regarding the letters themselves, there are all sorts of reasons why they were not saved over the intervening 155 years besides maintaining privacy. Paper can preserve fairly well in the right environment, but if it gets wet, is stored in high humidity, subjected to long exposures of sunlight, etc., the paper and ink deteriorates. In addition, some letters were not saved simply because they were deemed not important by family members (e.g., because of mundaneness, poor grammar or spelling), did not get passed down through the generations (for any number of personal reasons), or were tossed because they were uninteresting or thought their contents came down on the wrong side of history. Or, more simply, they became lost or were thrown out by mistake or through neglect.

The question is, does this create biases relative to what is left for anyone today to study or enjoy? The answer is “possibly.” Since the universe of all the letters written, in both numbers but especially content, is unknowable, it is difficult to assess bias (or representativeness) among what is left. For the Civil War soldiers of Illinois, for example, there is no guarantee that any sample of letters is representative of the range of contents, opinions, topics, etc. The best safeguard is to draw from as large a sample as possible and that it includes good representation among Illinois’s counties or regions, various subpopulations (e.g., foreign/native born, rural/city), political party leanings, the ranks and branches of military service, and the theaters of war.

———————————————————————————————————————

Mound City, Illinois (added 11 September 2020)

Mound City, Illinois, is mentioned in a few places in the book. What was Mound City’s role in the Civil War?

Mound City, roughly six miles NNE of Cairo, on the Ohio River, originally included a large, prehistoric Native American mound, which has since been leveled. It is alluded to in the following soldier’s letter.

Mound City, Illinois, September 8, 1861, to sister

I wanted to go to church today but could not go without going to hear Old Lawlers Catholic Priest and I would not humor the Old Cuss enough to do that. We had the guard moved out round the mound this morning and said there would be preaching on the mound and all who wanted too could go but he would let no one through the guard to go to church in Town and the consequence was that not a man went to hear his Old Priest I had thought that we lived in the land of civil and religious Liberty where all men were allowed to worship God according to the dictates of their own concience but it seems that it is not so here

—Private Leander Knowles, 18th Infantry, Wayne County

Mound City was part of a complex of Cairo-centric camps and facilities that together constituted a troop concentration spot and transportation center, with ready access to the Mississippi and Ohio rivers as well as the Illinois Central railroad. As such, this area was one of the Union’s most strategic locations during the Civil War.

Camp Lyon, Bird’s Point, Missouri, February 3, 1862, to wife

Cairo is not much of a place, not as large as Carlinville. It has some few very fine houses, but is as muddy as blazes. Assoon as we arrived at Cairo we got our goods off the cars and took them aboard the steamer Chancellor which was lying waiting at the wharf. then went aboard ourselves, and steamed across the river through the ice to Bird’s Point. . . . There is about 30 Secesh prisoners here now. Col. Bird and his two sons are here under guard. It looks pretty hard when a man has his fields converted into a Camp and then furnish the whole institution in wood. There are about 4,000 troops here, and enough at Cairo, Mound City, and Fort Holt, to make up 45,000 men.

—1st Sergeant Daniel Messick, 32nd Infantry, Macoupin County

Sergeant Messick mentioned Bird’s Point, Missouri, and Fort Holt, Kentucky, both located near the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. These two encampments strengthened the defenses of the riverine area. (Fort Holt was abandoned, probably as unnecessary, not long after Messick’s letter was written.) Bird’s Point also served as a troop overflow location for the levee-ringed spit of land on which Cairo sat. (Today, Cairo still is surrounded by levees and is Illinois’s only city with that feature.) Both Cairo and Mound City were subjected to periodic flooding.

Mound City ultimately had three important functions during the Civil War: naval headquarters, hospital center, and the location of a national cemetery. Regarding its naval function, Mound City became a naval base for the U.S. Mississippi Naval Squadron, starting in 1862. The Squadron was composed of ironclads, transports, and a variety of other vessels during the Civil War. A few boats were built at Mound City (e.g., the ironclad U.S.S. Cairo), but it mainly served as a shipyard for repairs, boat conversions/rebuilds, and supplies.[1]

It also had a large naval hospital. The hospital received wounded soldiers, for example, from the battles of Fort Donelson and Shiloh (both in Tennessee). Established in 1861, the “general Hospital” is mentioned in the following letter.

Mound City, Illinois, October 29, 1861, to brother, Dave

Deaths seem to be innumerable at this place they die of[f] so fast – the general Hospital has been enlarged lately in cons[e]quence of not having room enough for the sick that are being in from the various points. it contains not less than about three hundred and fifty invalids at present. still coming in, and die off as fast as they are brought in

—Private James Swales, 10th Infantry, Morgan County

Private Swales mentions it contained 350 “invalids,” but later the hospital could accommodate 1,000 or more patients. In this same letter, he described a burial at the cemetery.

Mound City, Illinois, October 29, 1861, to brother, Dave

my attention was arrested by hearing the drum playing a tune (dead march) arose immediately from my seat and past out at the rear of the building to satisfy my curiosity as you know we all are curious to find out every thing that is going on, more or les what do you suppose met my eyes? a solemn sight more solemn than the grave. one fellow soldier was borne to his long resting place. the drum and fife leading the van, of the procesion. eight files of men just behind the music, carrieng ther guns at a reve[r]se arms the pall bearers carrying the mortal remains of the dead – – they marched with the slow and steady step – not a word was spoken by the little Patriotic Band of Brothers the cofin was covered with the colors. the officers in command were marching in the rear of the procesion when they arrived at the appointed place of for his burial the company halted in silence and formed in line near the grave. the pall bearers brought forth the corpes and let it carfuly down in the cold and silent grave – every thing was as silent as the grave save the low moaning breeze that was wafted over the forest trees. and now dropping a dead leaf upon the cofin, of our hero. a death like silence reigned through out the sad performance. then the Chaplain stepped near the verge of the grave, looked down in the grave with solemnity. and then????? cast his eyes heavenward and sent up a fe[r]vent petition to the great rulers of all Nations that his soul might be resting in peace, and also console his friends, and give them to know that he died crowned with honors – not that he died on the field of bloody conflict ‘neath the foes clashing steel and the booming of cannon – but died in the Hospital bearing his sickness and long suffering with fortitude and patience – But finaly had to yield to the (grim monster death – the small squad of men fired three salutes over the grave. the order was given march from the grave. poor man do not suppose that he was looking forward in hopeful anticipation of returning to his home crowned with honors. previous to his death do you suppose he once thought that his name would be numbered among the dead. was,nt his very soul inspired with enthusiasm when the thrilling notes of the Bugle called him to rescue the Country while in its perilous condition and to bear the p[r]oud Ensign of American freedom, onward through the roaring din of Battle – the clashing of steel and roaring and booming of cannon the sharp cracking of musketry – the gro[a]ns of the dying – did he help acomplish any of this? (no nary)

—Private James Swales, 10th Infantry, Morgan County

Perhaps Private Swales is describing a burial at a different cemetery in or around Mound City, but nevertheless a cemetery there was afforded national status in 1864 and which now has over 8,000 graves. About 4,700 of these are Civil War-era interments. Originally, the cemetery consisted of over 1,600 military-related deaths with many, presumably, who died at the above-mentioned naval hospital.

Today, besides the national cemetery, Mound City has only a few subtle reminders it was once a bustling shipyard and strategic Civil War location. The 2010 census enumerated about 600 people there. Its population zenith was a hundred years earlier, when there were about 2,800 residents.

[1] See https://cai.siu.edu/research/lab-archival-research/mound-city-naval-base.php for more details.

———————————————————————————————————————

Battle of Harpers Ferry (added 4 September 2020)

On page 189-90 of the book, there is a description of the Battle of Harpers Ferry as written in a letter by Private Winthrop Allen of the 12^th Illinois Cavalry. Is what you included in the book the entire letter?

No, there is more to the letter about the battle than what could be fit into the book. What I recall about the letter itself is that Private Allen’s handwriting was exceeding small, likely because he was trying to fit the rather long story of his Harpers Ferry experiences onto a few sheets of letter paper. Below, Private Allen notes he had only one stamp, which may explain why he wrote so smally.

Here is my transcription of the letter, for better or for worse. Some words simply were nigh impossible to decipher due to his cramped writing.

Greencastle, Pennsylvania, September 17, 1862, to brother-in-law, Mr. William A. Tunnell

[on top of the page, squeezed in . . .] I have but one stamp left and if my friends wish me to write they must send me some for it is not likely they will pay us until matters become more settled G [smudged/illegible; may be his initials or name]

Dear Sir –

I wrote a few lines to father this morning but supposing I should not have time to write full particulars of our Skeddaddle from Martinsburgh through Harpers Ferry to this place. I closed before I finished and without stopping to tell you how we had to burn all our tents and baggage, our Quartermasters and commissary stores and leave M [Martinsburg] with nothing but ourselves, our horses and wagons (empty) and of our arrival safely at Harpers, for all of which we consider ourselves particularly fortunate I will try to write what took place after our arrival at H [Harpers Ferry] on the eve of the 12^th. Being without tents we camped on the open fields within the batteries and after such a hard ride during the day as might be expected we slept soundly The next morning we arose with the sun hungry. We having nothing to satisfy it I prepared to take a look at the place and its fortifications — but having but little time to look about, I only passed through and what I write may not be true in every particular. The principal part of the city is situated along the banks of the river, beneath a high bluff. It has but one street which runs the full length of [the] place and principal business of the place in terms of [the] place was mostly kept up by the government at the arsenals which are now in ruins. the Baltimore and Ohio R. R. is also on the virginia side and is built on trestle north over the river. The Chesapake & Ohio Canal follows the mountain on the maryland side. As you are aware the Shenandoah river enters the Potamack here which then passes through the Blue Ridge, and as Jefferson says, it is worth a trip across the Atlantic to see it as seen from the Bolivar Hights it is truly a grand site —. By the junction of thease two rivers there is three hights. the highest is the Maryland which is some 900 feet above the level[?] of the river the next is the Virginia accross the Shenandoah On the Maryland hights was many intrenchments and Batterries, built on purpose for their it is said that one had a battery of 4 fif[t]y pounder Parrott siege guns and 1 onehundred twenty four in[ch] siege gun besides several field batteries on the side facing the Ferry was a battery of 50 pounder Parrotts which commanded this approach by the river up and down. but the principal deffences were on the Bolivar hights in view of the Ferry — here was three battries consisting of about 40 guns connected by intrenchments and rifle pits. thease were on the virginia side and considered impregnable.

The morning after our arrival we found that we had quit one besieged place only to fall into another. for it was found late at night that the enemy had followed us from M [Martinsburg] and now the place was blockaded on all sides, and were preparing to attack our batteries on the Maryland hights At about 6 oclock a. m. on the 13^th the attack commenced and was continued until about noon when our men gave way and fled, having spiked the guns and crossed over the Ferry — we still had possession of the battery of 50 pounders facing the Ferry and the enemy was shelled during the afternoon at intervals until dark. When the firing ceased and thing[s] wore a gloomy aspect, for it was known sinc that if then [the] enemy had any heavy guns they would be placed on the maryland hights. the key to the whole position, and we could not dislodge them – also that they could place their batteries on the virginia hights without from of b[e]ing disturbed, and our fears proved true for the next morning found the rebels busily engaged erecting a battery on the Virginia hights – Our batteries began playing on them at an early hour the next morning but could not effect much b[e]ing constructed almost altogether for deffense in the other direction. The enemy kept displaying signals during the afternoon, and at about 12 they opened upon us. the first shell came right into our camp and produced quite a panic among both horses and men – the latter having unsaddled – and men preparing to eat dinner, but fortunately did not burst the next horror bursted, and covered several of the boys with dirt and dust and killing a horse of one of the other companies but you may depend there was no waiting for orders then. some saddled some left without horses, arms, or any thing and all ran for the trenches for dear life, The shells following thick and fast, whiz, burn[?] burst, and blubbers It was laffable after it was over but pretty serious while on hand The boys all declaring they had rather face “double grand thunder and lightening” than those shells from this time they kept up a severe fire upon our [cannon?] batteries until five oclock when their fire slackened and at last ceased when it was found that they were advancing on both flanks Towards the Batteries on Bolivar heights after some pretty severe skirmish fighting the enemy appeared in battle order advancing in great upon our left but were repulsed almost as soon as they appeared in sight by the fire of our infantry and artillery it is supposed with considerable loss In the meantime their whole line advanced within a mile and a half of our works and then they stoped and the firing ceased for the night The cavalry forces being of no use in defending the place it was determined [that on September 14] about sun down that they should leave and accordingly at about 8 o’clock they were all assembled at the ferry with no baggage, ambulances, sick &c. to encumber them prepared to cut their way out if necessary to a safer place, especially as it had been determined that, if the enemy planted batteries on the Heights, to surrender the place next morning The party consisted of the 12^th Ill 8^th N.Y. 1^st R.I. and 2 companies of the 1^st Marryland We anticipated bloody work and many of us expected to fall in the passage, but we all promised faithfully to stand by each other and go through but providencially we found no enemy having an excellent guide, untill we arrived near Williamsport where we stumbled upon Longstreets baggage train from which we captured 104 waggons consisting mostly of ammunition most of which were obliged to blow up to keep it from falling into the hands of the enemy In our passage we passed 2 miles through a boddy of 80,000 men at Williamsport & Hagers town, between which places we cut out the baggage. It is said that this was the cause of the rebels falling back from H [Hagerstown], as they supposed that Maclellands whole army was upon them. It has been ascertained that the panic was so great that the remainder of Longstreets baggage was burned at Williamsport for fear of its falling into our hands We arrived here with 52 waggons safely where we are welcomed by all and our reception here is as different from what it has been in Va that we all feel as though we were in our own houses the cittizens here furnish us with food and forrage there being no commissary here – they taken us to their own homes and given us our “grub”

—Private Winthrop Allen, 12th Cavalry, Greene County

Overall, the loss of Harpers Ferry was a Union embarrassment due to a poor defense led by Colonel Dixon S. Miles, a Mexican War veteran, and it was a grand accomplishment for General Jackson’s Confederates. There were roughly 12,000 Union soldiers made prisoners. From Harpers Ferry, Jackson rushed his troops to join the battle at Antietam.

The Illinois 12^th Cavalry regiment had been sent to Martinsburg, Virginia, from Illinois’s Camp Butler in June, 1862. (Martinsburg, now in West Virginia, within the Shenandoah valley, is northwest of Harpers Ferry and directly west of the Sharpsburg/Antietam area.) General Jackson’s Confederate troops moving down the valley (i.e., northeastward) captured Martinsville around September 11, forcing the 12^th Illinois Cavalry to retreat to Harpers Ferry.

Colonel Arno Voss led the 12^th Illinois Cavalry during their time at Harpers Ferry. His lieutenant colonel, Hasbrouck Davis, is not to be confused with the leader of the cavalry escapees, Colonel Benjamin Franklin “Grimes” Davis of the 8^th New York Cavalry regiment. As Private Allen’s letter header indicates, they were able to make their way to Greencastle, Pennsylvania.

———————————————————————————————————————

General Sherman at Camp Butler (added 28 August 2020)

Did General William T. Sherman help locate Camp Butler? When was he at the camp?

The current Wikipedia entry for Camp Butler describes General Sherman being sent to Springfield to assist in determining a soldier training camp in that part of the state. That notion may be based on the following. Ozias Mather Hatch was the Illinois Secretary of State under Governor Richard Yates Sr. during the Civil War. A few years before Hatch died, he relayed the following recollection to a Springfield newspaper in 1891.[1]

General Sherman in Springfield.

Hon. O. M. Hatch Relates How the General Located Camp Butler.

Editor Journal:–In 1861, after President Lincoln issued his proclamation for troops, Gen. Sherman was sent to Springfield by the War Department to select a camping ground for troops. He brought a letter addressed to Gov. Yates. The Governor, being unacquainted with localities near Springfield suitable for such purposes, sent for the Hon. William Butler, State Treasurer, who from long residence in Springfield was supposed to know all about localities suitable for such purposes. After explanations, Mr. Butler called a carriage and with Gen. Sherman invited me to join them. We went to what was then known as Riverton [actually, it was Jamestown or slangily, Jimtown] and rode and walked over the ground now known as Camp Butler. There was the high ground for camping purposes, the lower or more level ground for drill and training purposes, and also ground for cemetery purposes. The Sangamon River in close proximity for water; the Wabash Railroad close by, and a proper distance from the city, were all discussed. Gen. Sherman was greatly pleased with the location and surroundings, and at once made the location and named it Camp Butler. Returning to the city, Mr. Butler invited the General to dine with him, but he declined, saying that there was entirely too much time taken up in eating, and asked Mr. Butler to show him where he could buy some crackers and cheese, for lunch. Gen. Sherman left that afternoon for St. Louis. It is needless to say that the whole affair was of the most agreeable character, and not to be forgotten. Respectfully, etc., O. M. Hatch.

———-

The first mention in the Springfield newspapers of what was to become Camp Butler, at its original Clear Lake location, is the following.

———-

A few days later, the camp is mentioned by name.

Camp Butler.— The camp at Clear Lake is to be named Camp Butler, in honor of our worthy State Treasurer. Gov. Yates and the Adjt. General are busily engaged in arranging for the formation of the regiments, and the accepted companies with their regimental organization, will probably be published to-morrow.[3]

———-

Regarding General Sherman, at the beginning of the war he was with his family in St. Louis. In May, 1861, he was given a colonelcy with the 13^th Regular Infantry and went to Washington D.C. that month. He participated in the Battle of Bull Run, Virginia, in July. He, along with a handful of other Union officers who participated in the battle, was appointed a brigadier-general. Toward the end of August, General Sherman was assigned to the Army of the Cumberland, where Brigadier-General Robert Anderson was commanding. Regarding that time, the following is taken from Sherman’s memoirs (the bolding is mine):

After some days, I was relieved in command of my brigade and post by Brigadier General Fitz-John Porter, and at once took my departure for Cincinnati, Ohio, via Cresson, Pennsylvania, where General Anderson was with his family; and he, Thomas, and I, met by appointment at the house of his brother, Larz Anderson, Esq., in Cincinnati. We were there on the 1st and 2d of September, when several prominent gentlemen of Kentucky met us, to discuss the situation, among whom were Jackson, Harlan, Speed, and others. At that time, William Nelson, an officer of the navy, had been commissioned a brigadier-general of volunteers, and had his camp at Dick Robinson, a few miles beyond the Kentucky River, south of Nicholasville; and Brigadier-General L. H. Rousseau had another camp at Jeffersonville, opposite Louisville. The State Legislature was in session at Frankfort, and was ready to take definite action as soon as General Anderson was prepared, for the State was threatened with invasion from Tennessee, by two forces: one from the direction of Nashville, commanded by Generals Albert Sidney Johnston and Buckner; and the other from the direction of Cumberland Gap, commanded by Generals Crittenden and Zollicoffer. General Anderson saw that he had not force enough to resist these two columns, and concluded to send me in person for help to Indianapolis and Springfield, to confer with the Governors of Indiana, and Illinois, and to General Fremont, who commanded in St. Louis.

McClellan and Fremont were the two men toward whom the country looked as the great Union leaders, and toward them were streaming the newly-raised regiments of infantry and cavalry, and batteries of artillery; nobody seeming to think of the intervening link covered by Kentucky. While I was to make this tour, Generals Anderson and Thomas were to go to Louisville and initiate the department. None of us had a staff, or any of the machinery for organizing an army, and, indeed, we had no army to organize. Anderson was empowered to raise regiments in Kentucky, and to commission a few brigadier-generals.

At Indianapolis I found Governor Morton and all the State officials busy in equipping and providing for the new regiments, and my object was to divert some of them toward Kentucky; but they were called for as fast as they were mustered in, either for the army of McClellan or Fremont. At Springfield also I found the same general activity and zeal, Governor Yates busy in providing for his men; but these men also had been promised to Fremont. I then went on to St. Louis, where all was seeming activity, bustle, and preparation. Meeting R. M. Renick at the Planters’ House (where I stopped), I inquired where I could find General Fremont. Renick said, “What do you want with General Fremont?” I said I had come to see him on business; and he added, “You don’t suppose that he will see such as you?” and went on to retail all the scandal of the day: that Fremont was a great potentate, surrounded by sentries and guards; that he had a more showy court than any real king; that he kept senators, governors, and the first citizens, dancing attendance for days and weeks before granting an audience, etc.; that if I expected to see him on business, I would have to make my application in writing, and submit to a close scrutiny by his chief of staff and by his civil surroundings. Of course I laughed at all this, and renewed my simple inquiry as to where was his office, and was informed that he resided and had his office at Major Brant’s new house on Chouteau Avenue. It was then late in the afternoon, and I concluded to wait till the next morning; but that night I received a dispatch from General Anderson in Louisville to hurry back, as events were pressing, and he needed me.[4]

———-

There is nothing in Sherman’s memoirs that suggests he had anything to do with advising or locating Camp Butler, either earlier in 1861 or that September. Of course, Camp Butler already had been established in August. Neither does Sherman mention while at Springfield that he visited Camp Butler.

However, the Springfield newspapers do mention his arrival and activities in Springfield.

Gen. Hunter— Major General Hunter and suite arrived in the city yesterday evening, and took quarters at the Chenery House.

Brigadier General Sherman also arrived, and is stopping at the St. Nicholas.[5]

———-

There is a mention about General Hunter’s visit to Camp Butler.

Camp Jottings.

Camp Butler, Thursday Evening.

Friend register: the monotony of camp life was agreeably disturbed to-day by a visit from the following distinguished personages: Governor Yates, General John Wood, quartermaster general; Major General Hunter, of Bull Run celebrity; Major Edward Everett, assistant quarter master general; Adjutant General T. S. Mather, Hon. Isaac N. Arnold and Colonel Owen Lovejoy. Their visit had been announced at headquarters about an hour previous to their arrival, and preparations were immediately made by Major Belser [Belzer] for their reception. The troops were all summoned from their quarters, and posted in line along the encampment. As the carriages of the distinguished visitors moved slowly through the ground, the occupants were greeted with enthusiastic cheers by the citizen soldiery.[6]

———-

It is interesting to note that General Sherman is not mentioned. However, he is mentioned in the context of another newspaper’s article.

Brigadier General Sherman.—There is some curiosity to know who is Brigadier General Sherman, who was in town yesterday with Gen. Hunter. We would state that he is a brother of Hon. John Sherman, of Ohio, has been in the regular service for many years, and detailed for duty in the subsistence department of the army. He is now on his way to report himself to Major General Anderson at Louisville, Ky.[7]

———-

Again, this does not mention if General Sherman paid a visit to Camp Butler. Fortunately, there was a follow-up article, albeit in the Chicago Tribune (the bolding is mine).

From Camp Butler.

[Special Dispatch to the Chicago Tribune.]

Springfield, September 12, 1861.

Major General Hunter and Staff, and Brig. Gen. Sherman of Ohio, arrived here by a special train from Chicago, yesterday, and have been made acquainted with the organization and disposition of the forces of Illinois. General H., with Staff, accompanied by Gov. Yates and Gen. Mather, visited and reviewed the troops at Camp Butler, to-day, three thousand infantry uniformed in line. Generals Hunter and Sherman expressed great gratification at the appearance and drill of the troops, and were well pleased at the manner in which the State authorities are conducting the war preparations.[8]

———-

Frankly, if it was not for the portion I have bolded in this article, it would have been ambiguous if General Sherman, even while in Springfield to meet with Governor Yates, had made the short, additional trip to Camp Butler. Apparently, however, he did.

Thus, regarding O. M. Hatch’s recollections at the beginning of my answer, it seems he was conflating General Sherman’s September, 1861, visit to Springfield with, perhaps, an earlier excursion to the Clear Lake area when Illinois officials were scouting potential military camp locations.

[My thanks go to Kathleen Heyworth for the images of the above newspaper articles. Perhaps a year or so ago, she and I had discussed the idea of General Sherman being involved with locating Camp Butler and we both, independently, thought it unlikely. However, any misrepresentations included in the above are my responsibility.]

[1] Illinois State Journal, February 22, 1891, p.4.

[2] Illinois State Journal, July 31, 1861, p.3.

[3] Illinois State Journal, August 2, 1861, p.3.

[4] Sherman, William T., Memoirs of William T. Sherman, Vol. 1, second edition (New York: D. Appleton and Company: 1889), from chapter 9. It can be viewed here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4361/4361-h/4361-h.htm#ch8

[5] Illinois State Journal, September 12, 1861.

[6] Illinois State Register, September 13, 1861.

[7] Illinois State Journal, September 13, 1861.

[8] Chicago Tribune, September 13, 1861, p. 1.

———————————————————————————————————————

Illinois’s surviving soldiers (added 21 August 2020)

Reader Jeff J. asks who were some of the last surviving veterans of the Civil War from Illinois?[1]

In the context of the book and based on the brief biographies in Appendix A, several soldiers lived to be age ninety years or older. Of the 165 soldiers, eighteen (11 percent) lived to be age 85 years or older.[2] Of those eighteen, ten lived to be 90 years or older. The four oldest were John W. Burke and William R. Eddington, who both lived to about age 94 years; William Vincent, age 97; and Thomas Winston, age 99. Interestingly, these latter two were foreign born, from England and Wales, respectively.

However, the question is about survivorship, which generally means the younger a soldier was during the Civil War, the better chance he might have to live into the 1930s, 1940s, and even possibly the 1950s. (The longest-lived Union survivor of the Civil War is thought to be Albert Woolson, born in 1850 and died in 1956. He had enlisted as a drummer boy in a Minnesota company that never saw action. James Hard, who was born in 1841 [or, possibly 1842 or 1843], is considered the last surviving Union soldier who had been in combat, passing away in 1953.) Among the 165 Illinois soldiers featured in the book, four survived into the 1930s: Lewis F. Lake, died in 1933 (at age 86), James G. Crawford, 1934 (about age 91), John W. Burke, 1935 (age 94), and William R. Eddington, 1936 (about age 94).

In the book Jeff references, however, there are biographies of each soldier for each state who was the last to die as a Civil War veteran. For Illinois, the soldier listed is Lewis Fablinger who was born in 1846 and died in 1950. He served in the 21^st, the 140^th, and the 96^th, all Illinois infantry regiments. He originally tried to enlist when he was around 15 years old, but only managed to get into the 21^st when he was 17 years of age. After the war, he became a teacher, married, had four children, and stayed in Illinois. He was 103 when he passed away.

However, many Illinois soldiers relocated during the years of their post-war lives, often further west. Among the 165 soldiers in the In Their Letters . . . book, several eventually moved to states such as Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, Kansas, Colorado, Oregon, and California. In the book Jeff references, he pointed out that Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, North Dakota, and South Dakota each had a former Illinois soldier as its last surviving Civil War veteran, each dying during the 1940s.

While the last survivor information seems like an odd bit of trivia, it serves to remind us that the Civil War was not that long ago within the broad scope of history. Indeed, the impacts and the reminders of the Civil War are still very relevant in our country in 2020.

[1] Jeff also sent me the answer, from the book The Last Civil War Veterans: The Lives of the Final Survivors State by State by Frank L. Gryzb. I have tweaked his question to make it relevant to the In Their Letters . . . book.

[2] Bear in mind there were a handful of soldiers whose date of death could not be determined.

———————————————————————————————————————

Soldiers’ writing places (added 14 August 2020)

The book, especially in the first chapter, mentions unusual writing conditions. What was normative for soldiers’ writing situations and what was odd (or at least, inventive)?

In the army, some of the generals had portable desks to write upon, but nearly everyone else when in the field had to make do with what they could find. Some army supplies, like hardtack, were shipped in wooden crates or barrels. Hence, boxes and boards were popular for putting pen to paper.

camp near Louisville, Kentucky, September 10, 1862

Dear Cousin

I have always intended to write to you but never could get a chance till now, and even now there is a very poor chance, as I have to write on a peice [of] plank lying on my knee.

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Here are some additional examples, from three different soldiers, each near either the Ohio or Mississippi River and not far from (or barely in) Illinois.

Paducah, Kentucky, January 7, 1862, to wife, Sarah

I will bring my letter to a close you will excuse my bad hand write for there is two of us writing on one chease box

—Corporal James J. Brown, 40th Infantry, Fayette County

Cave-in-Rock, Illinois, December 3, 1861, to friend, Miss Lizzie Simpson

When we awoke Monday morning the Snow was falling thick and fast, and continued to do so until after noon, partly covering our tents. . . . My fingers are so numb that I can scarcely write. I am seated at my tent door writing on a little box with the snow drifted up around me.

—1st Sergeant William Browning, 27th Infantry, Pike County

Bird’s Point, Missouri, December 26, 1861

My Dear Wife

With a weak hand I attempt to address you on last Sunday morning I received yours of Saturday 21st and felt very well but during the day I took the diarrhea and have had a very severe spell and now while I write I am lying in my bed wrapped up with my blankets and writing on the inside flap of my trunk I have to rest occasionally

—Corporal William A. Smith, 7th Cavalry, Marion County

Winter quarters represented a possible exception, when soldiers sometimes could take time (and scrounge materials) to make their shelters homier.

Camp Baird, near Danville, Kentucky, December 31, 1862, to sister

Before pitching our new tent, we built a wall about three feet high and pitched our tent on top of it, by that means making a great deal more room. About half the distance round, the wall was built of brick, with a good large fire place and good chimney which makes the tent quite comfortable in a cold night when there is a good blazing fire on the hearth. the other half of the wall was built of boards with dirt banked up out side of it to make it tight and warm. . . . I had made a patent writing desk for my own convenience . . . [and] I had a stool also for sitting on while writing. and some of the other boys had desks also. in fact we had every thing fixed up in ship shape . . . [in] our Shebang.

—Corporal James M. Taylor, 96th Infantry, Lake County

Yet even in the larger Illinois training camps, writing surfaces could be hard to come by.

Camp Butler near Springfield, Illinois, August 20, 1861, to friend, Mary

Our company what there is of it is said to be the best on the ground. We have to drill 4 hours a day. I have to stand guard tomorrow for the first time. I quit for the present for others want to write, and we have only one desk, and that is a board nailed to a tree.[1]

—Sergeant William Kinsey, of the soon to be formed 28th Infantry, Fulton County

This letter was written during the early days of Camp Butler, at its original Clear Lake location, where soldiers primarily were sleeping in tents. It conjures up an imaginary scene of a line of soldiers, each with pen and paper in hand, waiting for the use of “a board nailed to a tree.”

[1] My thanks go to Kathleen Heyworth for images of this letter.

———————————————————————————————————————

Soldiers’ dreams (added 7 August 2020)

In a few places in the book, soldiers’ dreams are mentioned. What did soldiers write regarding their dreams?

Firstly, since dreams are a rather intimate topic, many of these mentions were to spouses back home. Atypically, Lieutenant Troy Moore revealed having dreams to a teenage daughter while campaigning in Mississippi (p. 17).

near Vicksburg, Mississippi, July 24, 1863, to daughter

Alice I have some pleasant dreams about home

—2nd Lieutenant Troy Moore, 32nd Infantry, Madison County

It is possible Moore’s wife, Clarissa, was not literate and he was sending letters to his daughter to be read aloud to the family. However, “dreams about home” was a common theme.

Corinth, Mississippi, September 15, 1863, to “Dear darling Millie”

I had such a nice dream about you last night I thought we were in the grove by the well at the farm having a picnic by ourselves & such a nice time we were having I was as positive that I was at home with you & I saw & talked with you so visably that I never dreamed that it was a dream & when I woke this morning I was as badly disappointed as I well could be

—Assistant Surgeon William Allen, 9th Infantry, Bond County

Written between 1886 and 1902 as a part of Civil War remembrances (from notes or a diary) regarding events at Belle Isle Prison, Richmond, Virginia, in 1864

the wind blew hard and scuds of rain and snow would at intervals hit us, I was suffering fearful; I was so tired and sleepy I had at times a numb fealing Their was a Sibley Tent near which our ring passed I thought I can lay down their and be out of the wind and rest; when next I came around I laid down geting myself into as comfort a body as possible I dreamed I was Home; siting on my old place at the table Father at my right brothers and sisters were in their wanted places Mother s[t]ood at her place as though prepaired to Serve; and I was Saying oh Im so glad Im out of that Prison and I kept repeating it no one appeared to move they were all intently observing me; although years have passed some of those faces have returned to Earth; and yet the way they looked at me in that midnight vision still abides with Me

—Frederick Calkins, former private, 16th Cavalry, Knox County

Perhaps because so many aspects of being a prisoner of war were about life and death, it is no surprise dreams could be intense, as the mind escaped while the body could not.

As part of a letter’s appearance, a theme on Civil War-era stationery was soldiers’ dreams.

Bluff on the Yazoo River, Mississippi, June 9, 1863, to wife, Celina

[preprinted letterhead] THE SOLDIER’S DREAM OF HOME.
“At the dead of night a sweet vision I say / And thrice e’er the morning I dreamt it again / But sorrow return’d with the dawning of morn, / And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.”

—Private Jonas Roe, 5th Cavalry, Clay County

While notions and visions of home life may have been prevalent among the mentions of dreams in soldiers’ letters, a frequently described aspect of home was food and meals. It is rather understandable, especially in contrast to the unsavory soldier staples of “hardtack and sow belly.”

camp near Nashville, Tennessee, December 14, 1864, to friends, P. W. Thomson and family

I have some very tantalizing dreams have been just ready to partake of good things with you several times and when I get back intend to have revenge. . . . Butter is one dollar per pound Cheese 60 cents and you cant imagine how my appetite craves such articles

—Private Edward Lapham, 36th Infantry, Knox County

———————————————————————————————————————

Leaving the military (added 31 July 2020)

Dave Page, in a book review published in The Journal of America’s Military Past (45:2 [Spring/Summer 2020], 55), wrote, “The last chapter includes a slight misstatement. Flotow claims that there were four broad categories under which a soldier could be separated from the military: capture; desertion; discharge for incapacity thorough illness or a wound, for completing a term of enlistment, or for dishonorable reasons; or death. A fifth category is that officers could resign at any time. And certainly regular soldiers were not above seeking commissions in order to resign.”

Page is generally correct – that “officers could resign at any time” – but it was not always true. An officer (rank of lieutenant and above) could write a letter of resignation at any time, but the written resignation had to go up the chain of command for approval. There were cases during the Civil War where a resignation was not accepted. In some instances, an officer felt he was slighted in some way and submitted a resignation letter to make a point. Some of those instances were settled without the officer leaving the military. And generally, an officer could not resign during an active military campaign (unless asked to do so by a commanding officer due to a subordinate’s incompetence or demonstration of a severe lapse in judgment, say).

camp near Corinth, Mississippi, June 22, 1862, to wife, Julia, and children

. . . and Old Steves Resignation [perhaps in reference to Lt. Welshimer’s superior officer in Co. B, Captain Jesse P. H. Stevenson]. I am Satisfied will not be accepted by Gen Halleck or he would have had it long since so I suppose I will have to content myself to get along with him. here he lays on his back fast asleep (while I am writing) from the effects of Opiom as Whisky down here is very scarce and high [priced] he has not done a thing for a month

—1st Lieutenant Philip Welshimer, 21st Infantry, Cumberland County

This letter is dated after the Siege of Corinth. If this is indeed a reference to Captain Stevenson, he ultimately did resign on March 19, 1863 and Welshimer was promoted to captain of the company.

Headquarters in southern Tennessee, June 29, 1865, to brothers and sisters

we ar guarding the rail road i am at this place fith [with?] sixteen men under my comd and i am well pleased with they [the] place and they men ar all satisfied i teld them this eavening that i was a going to resign and go home they said if i did they would go with me if it Tuck hair off so i will stick to them untill we are mustered out of they Service

—2nd Lieutenant Francis Barney, 148th Infantry, Pike County

When this was written, the Civil War was virtually over and the soldiers of this one-year regiment spent much of their time guarding railroads in Tennessee. They finally were mustered out in September and Barney stuck it out with his company. Essentially, it appears the soldiers in his company talked him out of tendering his resignation.

camp near Whiteside, Tennessee, December 8, 1863, to wife, Anna

I am just as well as ever notwithstanding I am again reduced to hard tack, sow belly & coffee & have to sleep on the floor. I am glad I did not succeed in resigning & would hardly thank Old Abe now for a hospital chaplaincy for if I feel as well all the time as I now do I would far rather remain in the field then go into a hospital. The work is easier, & the danger no greater, for though there may be no danger from bullets in the hospital yet the combination of diseases, contagious & otherwise render one liable to be laid aside almost any time.

—Chaplain Hiram Roberts, 84th Infantry, Adams County

Chaplain Roberts apparently tried to resign but “did not succeed.” It should be noted he was wounded three times at the Battle of Stones River in December/January 1862/3 (when he was a 1^st lieutenant). He finally did resign in March 1864, but that May he was later commissioned as the chaplain for the 137^th Illinois Infantry (a one-hundred-day regiment).

Although a resigning officer might have a number of reasons for doing so, some officers simply were not appreciated.

Blue Springs, Tennessee, March 16, 1864, to parents

Our Adjt resigned and started home yesterday we were glad to see him leave as he was hated by all who knew him in Camp. the boys just shouted and laughed when he started of[f] and had quite a Jolification over it.

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Headquarters at Memphis, Tennessee, July 26, 1864, to Lewis Trefftzs

I suppose you have before this time heard that Captain [John C.] Armstrong had resigned. If you have not I can in form you that it is indeed the case & that company “C” is at last relieved of the old blister as Col [James J.] Dollins used to call him. I can assure you the Boys dident cry any over his departure.

—Captain Mortimer Edwards, 81st Infantry, Perry County

Captain Armstrong had resigned June 30, 1864, and Edwards was promoted to captain of the company shortly thereafter (from 1^st lieutenant). Captain Edwards mustered out with the rest of the company on June 5, 1865.

———————————————————————————————————————

Illinois Civil War sites (added 24 July 2020)

Chris Mackowski of the Emerging Civil War asked, “What modern location do you like to visit that is associated with events in the book?”

Camp Butler National Cemetery, a few miles northeast of Springfield, is a great Illinois Civil War place to visit and reflect. Civil War Camp Butler was a “camp of instruction,” POW facility (for a while), and the place where most Illinois soldiers came to receive their final pay and discharge toward the end of the war. In a manner or speaking, “all history is local,” yet Camp Butler is one of those places that has a continuum of history since the Civil War, honoring both those that died there (Union and Confederate) and our country’s service-men and women subsequently interred there. Camp Butler National Cemetery was one of the original fourteen national cemeteries designated in 1862. Cairo (along with nearby Mound City, where a national cemetery was established in 1864), at the southernmost tip of the state, also gets more than an honorable mention. In some respects, it was one of the very most important strategic places in all of the Union. Seeing the converging rivers there readily conjures in the mind’s eye the historic fleets that plied those waters.

Both Camp Butler’s and Cairo’s landscapes are somewhat similar to what they were 155 years ago. In contrast, Camp Douglas (Chicago) and Camp Yates (Springfield), as examples, are now underneath urban development and only denoted by plaques and other signage. Other Illinois Civil War sites that come to mind are the Old State Capitol (Springfield), Rock Island Confederate Cemetery (near the Rock Island National Cemetery, established in 1863), and the Illinois State Prison in Alton (which was reopened during the Civil War to house Confederate POWs). During the first year of the war, there also were a number of local mustering camps throughout the state (often sited at local and county fairgrounds; Camp Yates is an example). Most of these were closed once Camp Douglas and Camp Butler were established as Illinois’s two primary Civil War soldier training facilities.

What is especially appealing about camps Butler and Douglas, along with Cairo and Mound City, which were all military centers throughout much of the Civil War, are the numerous surviving soldiers’ letters that describe these locales and what they were like during that period. Here are a few examples.

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, November 18, 1861, to “Sister & Friends”

No barracks have been built here as yet, but if there is any reliance to be put in rumor, it will not be long before some will be built here. . . . For our part we sleep very comfortably in our tents, especially since I have had my blanket lined with drilling and Quincy has returned with that comforter. . . . Deaths occur a great deal oftener for the last few weeks than before; and it is not uncommon to hear of two or three deaths in the general hospital during one night. Yet, considering the number of men that have been in camp here, the mortality has not been very great.

—Private Thomas Clingman, prior to the formation of the 46^th Infantry, Stephenson County

Camp Douglas, near Chicago, Illinois, March 3, 1862, to parents

visited the rest of the Camp. We have got a good sized City here enclosed and guarded all around as well as being enclosed. The fence is going to be fixed like the Prison walls so the guard can be mounted on top There is 4,500 secesh here they have full liberty here in camp and are more numerous than the blue coats They are a motly looking crowd no two looking a like they most of them are draped in grey and copper colored Kentucky jeans. but some have coats made of Indian Blankets. Their clothes are not all cut in the same style any style that was ever herd of can be found among them. A good share of them wont go to war again if they get home once. One fellow told me if the northern folks shot at him again it would be d d near home One Mississpin Rifle man who was warming over a fire said this was lutle [likely?] the coldest country he had ever been in.

—Private Francis Tupper, 15^th Cavalry, La Salle County

Mound City, Illinois, December 30, 1861, to brother, Dave

yesterday was Sunday and as I had nothing to do, I . . . borrowed a skiff and went over the river to see the target [the gun boats had been using for practice]. the target was made out of the Same material of the gun Boats thick heavy Sound timber and plated with inch ½ wrought iron which would turn the devil. I seen where the balls and Shell had welted it but could not penetrate – . . . I seen where the balls had struck the sand and knocked holes in the Ground that would bury a cow. sometimes the guns would over shoot the target and strike trees two foot over and cut them off like lightning would and shiver them all to Splinters. the place looked as though there had been tornado past through.

—Private James Swales, 10th Infantry, Morgan County

———————————————————————————————————————

Definition of Illinois soldier (added 17 July 2020)

Dave Page, in a book review published in The Journal of America’s Military Past (45:2 [Spring/Summer 2020], 54-5), wrote, “Although there may be an explanation that I missed in a note, Flotow should have informed readers how letters from the likes of John Reeve, a member of the 8th Missouri (Union), ended up in the book. Reeve’s biography states he was born in Iowa, but his family moved to Illinois. “John was the oldest of ten children on a farm,” the biography goes on. “He enlisted in the 8th Missouri (Union).” (p. 252) Was his letter included because he lived in Illinois at one time, or because his letters were sent home to his parents in Illinois? It’s a small curiosity.”

This is a fair point. I had assumed the Illinois county map (p. xiv), illustrating from where the letter writers featured in the book resided, addressed that question, albeit not explicitly. Also, each of the biographies state where the person was residing when he joined the military.

Briefly, I defined an “Illinois soldier” as any citizen who resided in Illinois at the time of their enlistment or commission, irrespective of military branch or unit. Thus, in the case of John Reeve, he was living with his parents in Peoria County at the time of his enlistment. Here is his brief biography in the book (actually on p. 251).

—————

John W. Reeve

Originally from Iowa, John Reeve’s parents were living in Peoria County by 1850. Ten years later, at nineteen, John was the oldest of ten children on a farm. He enlisted with the 8th Missouri (Union) Infantry, a regiment known as the American Zouaves, in June 1861. He reenlisted in June 1864, and Reeve wrote to his father that August from Georgia, explaining “my rite lung is badly affected [infected].” He died at an Evansville, Indiana, hospital in December from disease.

—————

If I had based the definition on Illinois nativity, many of the letter writers featured in the book would have been excluded. The biographies, collectively, illustrate that many Illinois residents at the time of joining the military were born in other states (or countries). If I had used a definition based on where letters were sent, again, there would have been several omissions from what actually appears in the book.

I also could have defined an Illinois soldier as anyone in an Illinois regiment. However, like John Reeve, a number of Illinois residents joined other states’ regiments, especially as early enlistment quotas in Illinois were readily reached. (Also, some soldiers from other states joined Illinois regiments. Company E of the 48^th Illinois Infantry, comprised almost exclusively of officers and enlisted men from Kentucky, comes to mind.) In addition, the few sailors included in the book would have been excluded because I am unaware of any Civil War naval units exclusive to the state of Illinois.

In short, using county of residence, similar to how census information was collected, seemed the most elegant solution that could be applied universally. However, Page is correct that I should have included a sentence or two in the book that explicitly explained this point.

———————————————————————————————————————

2^nd Illinois Cavalry (added 10 July 2020)

Reader Jeff J. writes “Your book has one letter excerpt from Private Joseph Denning of the 2nd Illinois Cavalry,” a regiment in which a relative served. Can you tell me more about the letter?

Here is that quotation from the book (page 29).

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, March 1, 1864, to friend, Mary K. Kuhn

It is the most profane place ever I was at I hear more swearing here in one day or in one hour than I ever heard in my life . . . Well this is such a mean place to write

—Private Joseph Denning, 2nd Cavalry, LaSalle County

The letter from which this quotation comes is part of the Kuhn-Denning manuscripts (Small Collection 3132) at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library (ALPL). It appears to be the only one written by Private Denning in the collection. In fact, there are very few 2^nd Illinois Cavalry soldier letter collections at the ALPL.[1]

Here is my transcription of Private Denning’s letter in its entirety.

———-

Camp Butler Mar 1 /64 [3 Franklin 1-cent stamps on back of envelope]

Dear friends

I have such a mean place to write it is hard to get at it we came to camp Butler yesterday walked from camp Yates Camp Butler is a Beautiful place it is like a city the streets are crowded all the time Colonel Mut [John J. Mudd] (the Co lonel [of] our regiment) said yesterday we should be mustered and paid this week and if he could possible get it we should have furloughs till the 25^t^h of this month but I do not know how it will be yet but I think if Colonel Mud can he will get us furloughs I think he is afirstrate man he seems [to] be very sociable with his men I can not see any use of keeping us here in camp when the reg. is home There is a great many men at this camp there is a beautiful drill ground here I was told this morning there was some few caces of the small pox but the hospital where they keep such is not out of camp a ways. There is quite a difference between our rations here and at home but I thinks I can live on the rations very well It is the most profane place ever I was at I hear more swearing here in one day or in one hour than I ever heard in my life I think I will like it pretty well when we get south I think I will like it better when we get regament togather than I do now I do not like the Barracks as well as I do the tents Well this is such a mean place to write I think I will quit for this time I do not know what to say about you writing I do not know [a?]m here we will be but you may write to Camp butler and if I do not get it here I may get it some other place No more Please write soon

J. L. Denning

———-

It seems that when Private Denning wrote this letter, he already was a member of the 2^nd Illinois Cavalry (and made a reference to his regimental colonel, John J. Mudd). Often such recruits (i.e., replacements) were destined to help fill the ranks of a depleted Illinois regiment. (During this time at Camp Butler, sometimes recruits were trained and subsequently assigned to an existing regiment.)

In his letter, Private Denning wrote “we came to camp Butler yesterday walked from camp Yates.” Camp Yates was located on the then local fairgrounds, and this location is perhaps six or seven blocks west of today’s downtown Springfield, Illinois. Camp Yates was closed in April 1864, shortly after Private Denning’s letter was written. It would have been about a seven-mile walk from Camp Yates to Camp Butler. Compared to the smaller Camp Yates, Camp Butler would have seemed like “a city” and “crowded all the time” (when he was there). And like some larger cities, Camp Butler could be a melting pot of men from various parts of the state, of different races and ethnic backgrounds, and of different religions and mores, not surprisingly. “It is the most profane place ever I was at” may summarize it well.

Finally, I have added the above letter transcription to the “Addenda and Amplifications” page of this website.

[1] There apparently are some letters for this regiment among the Newton Bateman papers and the Zebulon Parker papers; see William B. Tubbs, compiler, “Bibliography of Illinois Civil War Regimental Sources in the Collections of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library: Part 2, Manuscript Sources,” Journal of Illinois History 9:2 (summer, 2006) 131, for the citations. In addition, there is the official correspondence of the 2^nd Illinois Cavalry’s Colonel, John J. Mudd; see the above reference. Also, the ALPL does have an edited, unpublished diary for Sergeant/1^st Lieutenant Samuel S. Irwin. For the citation, see William B. Tubbs, compiler, “Bibliography of Illinois Civil War Regimental Sources in the Collections of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library: Part 1, Published and Printed Sources,” Journal of Illinois History 8:2 (summer, 2005) 155.

———————————————————————————————————————

Crude colloquialisms (added 3 July 2020)

On page 114, there is a quotation describing a soldier on the firing line at Fort Donelson taking a “latrine break” (your description) by “doing a job for himself” (soldier’s description). How do you know that was a colloquialism for going to the bathroom, so to speak?

Here is that quotation with the portion in question bolded.

Camp Sevier, near Clarksville, Tennessee, March 6, 1862

Dear Brother & Sister I thought at one time that you would never hear from me again for the way the bullets whis’d and sung round our head’s [at Fort Donelson] is almost a mystery that so many of us escaped with our lives its astonishing how cold our men beheaved they was no more excited then if they was on dress preade [parade] when they had a chance they would ask each other for tobacco and one of our men askd leave to fall out the rank’s and do a job for himself the Captn gave him leave to fall back 3 steps when he got through up he jump and blased away we lost 22 killd and wounded out of our Co. and about 216 killd & wounded out of the regt on Sunday we was cald out in line for review and Col mercy [Colonel August Mersy] after takeing a look at us turnd to the quarter master and said my God is this all the man’s I have got left and the tears were streaming down his Cheeks

—Private Thomas Barnett, 9th Infantry, Madison County

Private Barnett and his wife, Sarah, were born in England. Barnett emigrated to the U.S. with his parents when he was about eight years old. “Doing a job for himself” is an English expression. Here is one example, from an English novella about a burglary.

“‘Doing a job is another way of saying opening the bowels. In France,’ said the constable, ‘it’s known as posting a sentry.’”[1]

(Perhaps vaguely related, at best, my Polish grandmother used to complain about dogs being walked in the neighborhood and “doing their business” [or, “leaving their business”] in her yard.)

Here is another Civil War soldier example of “do a job for himself.”

Bayou Boeuf, Louisiana, 8 May 1863, to mother

. . . the flys are awful thick + as soon as the sun sets
musquitoes “Oh Dear” tis no use for me to try +
give any idea of their number a swarm of Bees
is no comparison as soon as sundown we build large
fires of corn husks + keep them agoing all night
why if a man has occasion to do a job for himself
after dark he is obliged to take some husks out + build
a fire + sit in the smoke else his rear will be in rather
a dilapidated condition rather a tough state of things
but such is the case.[2]

—William H. Eastman, 2^nd Battery, Massachusetts Light Artillery

Another somewhat crude colloquialism from an Illinois Civil War soldier’s letter can be found in the following.

New Haven, Kentucky, October 19, 1862, to wife, Sallie

last Tuesday I was sick when I left there [shepherdsville] and and [sic] marched 3 days I tried to Get our company officers to get my knapsack hauled but could not get any satisfaction out of them they are very good to afellow when he is well and able to take care of him self but not one of them ever said aword to me since I have been sick they were very good for awhile but they have Got us far in an enemies land they care but very little for some of us . . . I never expect to ask the company officers for another favor I am only subject to the regimental officers I am appointed Bugler and they cant help ther-selves so they may Kiss my foot

—Corporal Thomas Pankey, 91st Infantry, Greene County

Regarding the last phrase, feet were considered the least hygienic part of the body. (And, in today’s parlance, perhaps “ass” merits that distinction. One soldier wrote in June, 1864, stating: “The people that speaks slack about me may kiss my ass. Mollie, excuse the vulgar language if you please.”[3]) In essence, “kiss my foot” means to grovel or otherwise for someone to lower to an indignity in order to seek favor.

Finally, the “kiss my foot” expression was heard in an address by Utah’s Brigham Young during the Civil War.

“Continuing his ‘gubernatorial’ address, Young descended to crudeness in insulting of Utah’s federal officers: ‘Whether they quack like a duck . . . whether they ware [wear] —or tight breeches, they are as harmless as a rattlesnake in the Snow.’ They described themselves as ‘the top knots, the leaders, and rulers of the people,’ Young maintained, adding, ‘I then say Kiss my foot up along.’”[4]

[1] Alan Bennett, The Clothes They Stood Up In (New York: Penguin Random House, 2002), 21.

[2] From the following online resource: http://www.masshist.org/beehiveblog/page/22/?rownum=805

[3] From the following online resource: https://www.nps.gov/parkhistory/online_books/civil_war_series/3/sec2.htm

[4] John Gary Maxwell, The Civil War Years in Utah: The Kingdom of God and the Territory That Did Not Fight (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2016), 290.

———————————————————————————————————————

Soldiers as nurses (added 26 June 2020)

On page 185 of the book, you wrote “It was common at busy hospitals for convalescing soldiers to aid the more immediate or serious cases, doing whatever they could.” While perhaps practical, was it a good or successful practice or policy?

The short answer is it was far from a good practice or policy. It was unhealthy for the sick or wounded soldier serving as a nurse and potentially unhealthy for the fellow patients whom he served. As a soldier nurse, he was working, up and about, instead of strictly convalescing, as well as serving in a role for which he likely had no prior training. His duties might include changing dressings, giving food and drink, administering (e.g., topically, internally) prescribed medicines, summoning a surgeon (i.e., doctor) on a patient’s behalf, and other common duties of trained nurses or hospital stewards. As patients interacting with a convalescing soldier serving as a nurse, they were at increased risk from the spread of diseases and receiving inappropriate care, no matter how well meant by the attendant.

But it was done mostly out of necessity and partially out of medical ignorance. Hospital surgeons and stewards could be overwhelmed with patients due to both disease outbreaks and the wounded after a battle or during a campaign. Thus, those patients presumably further along in their convalescing, or seemingly more capable, were enlisted to care for their neighboring patients in a hospital ward. Of course, the sick treating the sick (prior to widespread acceptance of germ theory) presented many opportunities for contagion through close contact and for other ensuing complications among the patients at a hospital. The ancient Greek, Hippocrates, wrote regarding the physician dealing with epidemics, “First, do no harm,” but this was probably not true in the case and times of Civil War field and regimental hospitals.

Here are a few quotations from two Illinois privates’ letters in which they describe their temporary duties as hospital nurses.

field hospital near Atlanta, Georgia, July 26, 1864, to wife, Sarah

I am in the Hospital assisting the Surgeons dress the Wounds. we have had an awful time with the Hospital Moving it almost Evry day to keep out of the way of the Rebs. on the 23^rd they made a dash right into our hospital & the Bullets flew thick as hale & one Shell burst right in the hospital. mind you it was a Camp hospital & Covered over about an acre of Ground right in the Woods, & the Surgeons & nurses & Evry body that Could Get out of the way Left until the Secesh passed & then we went back & Got all the Wounded men & moved the Hospital, & yesterday we moved again. we have just Got through dressing Wounds & I have Just Sat down at 4, Oclock P.M. to answer yours of the 10^th . . . I have had to work from day Light till dark Ever Since the battle began Either dressing Wounds or helping to move the Hospital until now & I am so tired I Cant write (that is) to Compose. we have between 3 & 4 hundred Wounded in the 4^th Division. Each Division has its own Hospital, & I am assisting our Surgeon Dr. Welch. I heard Genl Logans Estimate of the killed Wounded & Missing in our Army it was three Thousand, & that of the Rebel army Seventeen Thousand. there were fifteen hundred Rebs buried in front of our division alone, where they made the Charges Some times our men would Charge & Some times the Rebs. I went onto the field Evry day & helped to Carry off the wounded until the Doctor told me to Come with him. it is the awfulest Sight you Ever Saw our Men are Wounded in Evry part of them that I Can describe from the Crown to the Sole of the foot. Some in one place & Some in another, but they are most of them doing very well none died today tho several did yesterday I think all will Get well now that is in Our division. those died that was wounded in the Bowels

—Private David Gregg, 53rd Infantry, LaSalle County

It should be noted that his wife, Sarah, was employed as a military nurse in hospitals in Illinois (including Camp Butler). However, Private Gregg may have been selected to carry and assist the wounded near Atlanta because of his older age and life experiences. (He had enlisted at age 54.) A much shorter version of this quotation is on page 186 of the book. He wrote again to Sarah and remembered some of the hospital food.

camp near Atlanta, Georgia, September 28, 1864, to wife, Sarah

I am Glad to hear that you attended the Fair at Decatur & had Such Good Luck. (oh) yes I think you Ladies was smart to Serve up eight or nine hundred meals in five days & then I wish we had a part of your two Car Loads of vegitables down here. I think we would make Some of it Suffer [i.e., reduce its plenty by consuming it] for it is Seldom we Get any vegitables Except Descecated Stuff that dont amount to much. I Got plenty of that when I was [working] in Hospital but it dont taste natural & I dont think much of it.

—Private David Gregg

Private Thomas Seacord gives a vivid description of being a patient in a hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, as well as his work as a temporary ward nurse or helper.

hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, January 8, 1863, to wife, Anna

there is a great many sick here the ward that I am in contains some 75 sick it is in the fourth story of the Building & is a Room about 22 x one hundred feet the sick is laid on Cots in three Roes there is Room in this ward for one hundred sick we have 8 nurses in this ward or Room besides the ward master. this is an awful place in one corner lays a man just gone with the Diaroeh & here another with Consumption & another one Raveing with Typhoid fever some sick with mumps some with Measels & in fact most all kinds of desease you can name one man died with Small Pox a few days a go but I here of no more cases of it we are expecting the Wounded up from Vixburgh every hour but we get no news from there yet I tell you it is heart rending to hear the sick Moan & talk of Home & friends & others Praying for God to have mercy on them it awful but one soon gets used to it so he will not mind it yesterday four of us had to scrub the floor of the ward it took us most all day we had to move the sick & clean under the Cots to day we have all day to rest & the other four does the work we generly work 6 ours & then rest 6 ours there is a good many dieing off here yesterday there was 8 laying in the dead ward un Burried.

—Private Thomas Seacord, 72nd Infantry, Kane County

hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, January 14, 1863, to wife, Anna

I am some better of the Rheumatism but I am so weak that I allmost stager when I walk I am so dispeptic that I have to quit eating meat or any thing sweet I cannot bair Coffee yet I keep around to work at nurseing. . . . their is only one man sits up at a time in the night & I tell you it makes the nights seem long & dreary the other night while I was sitting up I went around to see how they were getting along & in ten or fifteen minutes after I went around again & found one man dead he died without a groan or struggle so I straghtened him out & folded his hands on his Breast & left him until morning. . . . the man who Buries the dead told me that he has Buired as many as fifteen in one day. . . . of late do I dream of seeing you at home & awake still in this dreary land.

—Private Thomas Seacord

His last line is a fitting haiku: I dream of seeing / you at home and awake still / in this dreary land

Part of this quotation is on page 185 of the book. Hospital patient Seacord subsequently died about two weeks later in this same hospital.

Finally, I should duly note that there also were assigned nurses at field and regimental hospitals. These were usually privates who had some medical background and/or received training from the surgeons. (There also were hospital stewards, who were perhaps closer to what we might think of as druggists or pharmacists.) Private Gregg might have been one such nurse, although from the above quotation it also may have been a battlefield, spur-of-the-moment assignment. Generally, on the Union side during the Civil War, male nurses far outnumbered female nurses. (The same statement could be applied to the Confederate medical personnel.)

———————————————————————————————————————

Battlefield truces (added 19 June 2020)

After a battle, how were truces arranged to tend to the wounded or bury the dead? Did the two sides mingle or cooperate during the truce?

There certainly were a few famous (post) battlefield truces, such as the day after the Battle of Antietam or Sharpsburg, Maryland, and after the Battle of Cold Harbor, Virginia. (At Cold Harbor, it took a few days of messages under flags of truce back and forth between generals Grant and Lee before coming to an agreement, during which time likely a number of wounded soldiers expired in situ.) Once combat had ended, if one side had secure possession of the battlefield, it became their duty to treat the wounded and bury the dead as seen fit. Generally, in such cases, their own soldiers were buried with more care than those of the enemy.

camp near Murfreesboro, Tennessee, January 7, 1863, to wife, Julia, and children

It is with pleasure that I can inform you that I am well and that the memoriable battle of Murfreesboro [or, Stones River] is over we have driven them from their last ditch in Tenn. but in doing so we have suffered terribaly the country for miles arround is one solid grave yard I superentended the burial of my dead in person and had them as deacently buried as they could have been at home with the exception of coffins.

—1st Lieutenant Philip Welshimer, 21st Infantry, Cumberland County

Corinth, Mississippi, August 7, 1863, to sister

At the battle field of Shiloah they took big government waggons, and hauled the dead men together, the same as you would haul hay up north, the wagons would hold about 25 or 30 men, and they would put from 6 to 8 loads in a place It took a week to get them all burried.

—Private Almon Hallock, 15th Cavalry, LaSalle County

During a flag of truce, when both sides were tending to soldiers left on the battlefield, the degree of their inactions varied by circumstance. Perhaps a rather exceptional example was the following, recorded by a New York newspaper’s field reporter after the Battle of Cedar Mountain, Virginia.

“At little distances we saw parties of ten or twenty, opening trenches, the tributary brook, only, dividing the Confederate and Federal fatigue parties. Close to this brook, in the cornfield, lay a fallen trunk of a tree, and four men sat upon it. Two of them wore gray uniforms, two wore blue. The latter were Gens. Roberts and Hartsuff of the Federal army. They were waiting for Gens. Stuart and Early, of the Confederate army: the four were to define the period of the armistice. . . . [after their arrival] ‘Hartsuff, God bless you, how-de-do?’ ‘Stuart, how are you?’ . . . Surgeon Ball produced a bottle of whiskey, out of which all the Generals drank, wishing each other an early peace. ‘Here’s hoping you may fall into our hands,’ said Stuart; ‘we’ll treat you well in Richmond!’ “The same to you!’ said Hartsuff, and they all laughed. It was a strange scene, — this lull in the hurricane.”[1]

There also were post-battlefield truces of a much smaller scale and involving lower-ranking officers. Here are two examples from the same engagement.

Depending on interpretation, Lieutenant Colonel William McCullough and his 4^th Illinois Cavalry detachment were either ambushed or had blundered into a concealed Confederate position at nightfall on 5 December 1862 near Coffeeville, Mississippi. McCullough’s men were acting as a rearguard during the Union retreat at the end of the day’s fighting. His detachment of about twenty-five soldiers was hailed by the hidden Confederates and, upon approaching to determine if called by friend or foe, suddenly received a volley of musketry. McCullough was initially wounded but struck again and died at that spot. Several others in his detachment were killed, wounded, or captured during the ensuing melee in the dark.

About 9 or 10 December, McCullough’s commanding officer, Colonel Theophilus Lyle Dickey, also of the 4^th Illinois Cavalry, sent back a truce party to recover McCullough’s body. On the 11^th, his remains were sent with a military detail to Illinois, mainly by rail. McCullough was buried in Bloomington at Evergreen Memorial Cemetery, a peaceful place that is still an active cemetery.

While Lieutenant Colonel McCullough was the most conspicuous Union casualty on that day near Coffeeville, another soldier, 1^st Sergeant William A. Smith of the 7^th Illinois Cavalry, was shot and killed earlier in the same engagement. His in-law and fellow F Company soldier in the 7^thCavalry, Private John B. Chandler, wrote a tender condolence letter to Mary Smith, William’s wife in Marion County, Illinois. She provided the following to a Marion County newspaper.

Thinking your readers might feel interested in knowing of the circumstances attendant on the death of William A. Smith, Orderly Sergeant of Company “F”, 7th Illinois Cavalry, and formerly a resident of our County, I herewith send you a copy of the letter I received from his brother-in-law.

Camp on the Coffeeville Road, Mississippi, Dec. 12, 1862.

Dear Sister:

With a heavy heart do I take my pen in hand to communicate something very sorrowful to you and the friends. I must inform you that we have had some very severe fighting with the rebels between here and Coffeeville, in which we have suffered some loss in killed and wounded.

Among the killed, I am sorry to tell you, is your husband Wm. A. Smith. – He fell like a soldier on the evening of the 5^th inst., in the skirmish at Coffeeville. We were at the time, compelled to fall back, but in a few days myself and Chance [possibly Elijah A. Chance] went back with Capt. [Milton L.] Webster [of Co. H] under a flag of truce, and we found that he had been buried after the fashion of all soldiers on the field, without any coffin and wrapped in his blanket. We took him up, had a good coffin made for him and buried him right. He had new clothes on and we left them on him and put one blanket under his body and one under his head.

He looked as natural as if he was asleep, I think he must have died an easy death. He was shot in the back while in the act of turning his horse to retreat. Four shots hit him and I think one passed through his heart. His horse was shot under him. He had seven dollars in his pocket. The man that buried him got it and gave it to a wounded soldier and he gave it to me. We buried him on the farm of a man by the name of King.

Now, Sister, bear the shock as calmly as you possibly can and put your trust in HIM who has promised to be a husband to the widow and a father to the orphans. You have the sympathy of many warm friends in this Co., who have vowed to avenge William’s death.

I as ever remain your brother until death,

John B. Chandler

We were married eleven years ago the 12th day of last August. I am left with five little emblems of Love. He was an affectionate companion and a kind father. He has been in the service fifteen months and sixteen days. In that time he has written me many interesting letters, some of which I would like to have printed in your paper, if it is thought desirable. It was hard to give him up, but I feel resigned to the will of God, and my heart says, “Sweetly sleep companion, at the appointed time I will come to thee”.

Mary Smith Fosterburg, December 21st, 1862

There are some obvious parallels and contrasting circumstances between the two Williams who died that day in December. Both were in Illinois cavalry regiments, had volunteered to serve in the second half of 1861, left behind wives named Mary, and found themselves fighting in Grant’s army at Coffeeville, Mississippi. However, Sergeant Smith “had been buried after the fashion of all soldiers on the field,” meaning usually in an unmarked grave or trench on or near the battlefield. Especially in the first year or two of the war, some higher-ranking Union officers were returned home for private burial. One example is Colonel Dickey’s brother-in-law General William H. L. Wallace, who was mortally wounded at the April 1862 Battle of Shiloh, Tennessee, and was buried in a family cemetery near Ottawa, Illinois. (Theophilus Lyle Dickey was an Illinois Ninth Judicial Circuit judge prior to the Civil War and a Stephen A. Douglas supporter, and he became a justice of the Illinois Supreme Court after the war.) William Smith wrote eloquent letters to his Mary about soldierly life, including training at Camp Butler (near Springfield), the aftermath of the Shiloh battlefield, and “how Slavery looks with the naked Eye” from inside the Confederacy.

In both cases, battlefield truces allowed better burial of the dead.

[1] George Alfred Townsend, Campaigns of a Non-combatant, and His Romaunt Abroad during the War (New York: Blelock & Company, 1866), 273, 275.

———————————————————————————————————————

Excerpts versus whole letters (added 12 June 2020)

Chris M. of The Emerging Civil War asked why does “the book feature a lot of excerpts rather than whole letters? Can you talk a little bit about why you took that approach?”

In settling upon the format for the book, I thought carefully about the intent of the excerpts and decided upon a “middle porridge” approach. I wanted to have a finished product that appealed to as many readers as possible, including those who might not otherwise be particularly familiar with the Civil War. Personal, intimate perspectives are both appealing and inductive toward understanding the Civil War period, as well as surmounting (as much as might be possible) the famous Walt Whitman declaration that “the real war will never get in the books.”

Complete letters and published letter collections have their rightful place among the Civil War historiography, especially when the letters themselves are well-written, insightful to the period, and comprise an interesting (usually personal) narrative. Frankly, the vast majority of Civil War letter writers and their surviving collections rarely meet these criteria, and most modern readers (and publishers) would find them dull and repetitious in their content. (Indeed, there were many letter collections I had read that simply did not make the “cut” for inclusion in the book.) I have included two or three complete letters but, besides being exemplary, it was because they also were short and stayed on point.

Many Civil War treatises utilize short excerpts – sometimes not even whole sentences – in illustrating an author’s point or in making a compelling argument. And some of those same Civil War authors I admire as gifted writers. However, what often is missing is why the soldier had made a particular statement, what was its larger context, from where was it written, and to whom. Yes, there are citations and footnotes for such quotations, but the larger circumstances cannot be deduced from the book or article alone, or without chasing down those citations.

My “middle porridge, best-of-both” approach of integrating letter writers’ themes in a topical arrangement is part of the book’s essence. And I wish to give a shout-out to Southern Illinois University Press, in general – and Executive Editor Sylvia Frank Rodrigue, in particular – for “getting it” from the git-go regarding the purpose and format of the quotations that became a core feature of the book.

[The entire interview can be found at The Emerging Civil War, here.]

———————————————————————————————————————

Soldiers and temperance (added 5 June 2020)

The book mentions several incidents where liquor was involved. Did at least some Illinois soldiers practice abstinence from drinking?

Private Randall, for one, practiced temperance, but he was hardly alone among the Illinois soldiers.

Memphis, Tennessee, January 25, 1863, to mother

We are having lots of trouble with some of our Company now as we have been for some time where there was no whisky to be had and now there is lots of it here and so they are enjoying it with lots of rowes one man assaulted the major and one the Captain they wer fined one months pay and three weeks extra duty and one was fined five dollars twice and one ten dollars and another three dollars There was seventeen of our Company that got drunk

—Private Cyrus Randall, 124th Infantry, Kane County

Big Black River, Mississippi, December 27, 1863, to brother

Our Gens. gave orders to ishue three rations of whiskey to the Soldiers on Christmas day The soldiers and officers wer most all drunk and nothing but fights and rows all day and night I wish they would dismiss our Gens. for ishuing such orders I never wanto see an other Christmas while I am in the army if they let the soldiers have whiskey In our Regiment they got up a Temperance plege and over two hundred si[g]ned it

—Private Cyrus Randall

The temperance movement in the U.S. prior to the Civil War had been gaining traction. For example, in 1851 the Maine Liquor Law passed, which limited alcohol production and sales in that state. However, the law allowed for “medicinal” use and thus it could be prescribed by doctors and others for alleviating or curing various illnesses. By 1855, several other states followed suit and passed various prohibition-leaning liquor laws.

On the path toward national prohibition (enacted in 1919), the Civil War was a major hiccup. The ongoing war and its associated chaos overshadowed and diminished the temperance movement, and much progress toward prohibition was forfeited. (Alcohol sales taxes also were a significant source of federal revenue during an expensive war.) In the field, enlistees and officers alike searched for and could be found with liquor. Newspaper correspondent George Townsend, during an early portion of the Virginia Peninsula Campaign in 1862, described a scene in one of General McClellan’s staff officers’ tents, “some empty champagne bottles sat upon a pine desk; tumblers and a decanter rested upon a camp-stool; a bucket, filled with water and a great block of ice, was visible under the table. . . . Maps, papers, books, and luggage lay around the room; all the gentlemen were smoking and wine sparkled in most of the glasses.”[1]

Camp Mound City, Illinois, October 22, 1861, to brother, Dave

Captain Chealy [Charles S. Sheley, Co. C] buried one of his men to day which makes two out of thenth [the tenth regiment] – he was a man that was in the habit of imbibing to freely of the intoxicating cup – he took a fit while on drill, and was taken to the Hospital and died in a short time after [probably Private Martin Doran who “died of convulsions” October 22, 1861] Such is the awful effects of intemperance. how easy it is for a man to throw himself away just by giving up to such folly, when at the same time they know there [they] are going to ruin as fast as time rolls away – they can see the grave opening to recieve him. why will they pursue that road to ruin? as long as God lets me live I never will be led of[f] on that disgraceful road that leads to ruin and perdition.

—Private James Swales, 10th Infantry, Morgan County

Benjamin Franklin Best, a soldier in the 40^th Illinois Infantry, wrote down a song and sent it home to his family as part of a letter. Here is the first verse from this undated enclosure.

The Whiskey Seller,

1: Of all the Crimes that Ever been,

the selling of whiskey is the greatest sin,

it has caused more misery pain and woe

than Every other thing in the world I know.

(Chorus) Get out of the way you whiskey Seller

you have ruined many a clever fellow.

The song (or poem) predates the Civil War and is sometimes named the “Good Templar’s Song.”

Camp Goodell, Joliet, Illinois, May 27, 1861, to Mr. J. A. Kuhn

all kinds of men and amusements here for yound and old notwithstanding the many temptations to which we are exposed there seames to bee none so hard for the boys to resist as intemperance there are a few that will not take the cup when it is presented to them and only a few

—enlistee George Kiser, McLean County, who subsequently was mustered into the 20th Infantry

[1] George Alfred Townsend, Campaigns of a Non-combatant, and His Romaunt Abroad during the War (New York: Blelock & Company, 1866), 96-7.

———————————————————————————————————————

Reading Civil War letters (added 29 May 2020)

Chris M. of The Emerging Civil War asked about reading Civil War era letters. “Researchers use Civil War letters all the time, but they can sometimes be a challenge as casual reading for a Civil War buff. Is there any special advice you might offer to someone about how, as a reader, to approach a collection of letters?”

One of the possible uses of this book is to prepare a reader for delving into just about any Civil War soldier’s collection of personal letters. Not only does the book cover a wide range of topics and themes typically mentioned in their personal letters, it also portrays the soldiers’ ways of thinking, what was important in their world, and how they expressed themselves. This latter point includes spelling variations, idiomatic expressions and, at times, writing as if talking to someone. “Writing as if talking” often meant or translated to limited use of punctuation. Think about that. In talking face-to-face, one says “how are you I am fine” – not “how are you question-mark I am fine period” – and uses voice inflections instead of punctuation. A soldier penning a letter often inferred that the reader could “hear” – as a family member or good friend – the writer’s verbal pauses and inflections from knowing his voice. And as latter-day readers, we too can hear their voices, maybe even more so when the writer was a phonetic speller. As much as possible, I have retained letter writers’ diction, spelling, and grammar for the transcriptions in the book.

I should add that something the book does not offer is the experience of reading inked (and sometimes penciled) writing on 155-plus year-old paper. That takes practice and patience, at times, and I will readily admit I had some good “instructors” in the form of Manuscript Department staff members at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library. One universal I have found among Civil War soldiers’ letters is they are all in cursive writing. (If you cannot read cursive script, you are sunk on Day 1!)

As a final piece of advice here, read the entire collection (if possible) before drawing conclusions about individual quotations or letters. The wider context often provides insights into understanding the soldier’s experiences and mindset, broadly, and spelling quirks and cursive writing habits (e.g., letter “a” versus “o”), more specifically. Oh, and do not assume others’ transcriptions of your particular letters of interest are accurate and complete.

[The entire interview can be found at The Emerging Civil War, here.]

———————————————————————————————————————

Number of Civil War deaths (added 8, 15, 22 May 2020)

[Part 1 of 3]

This is a question I get on occasion, albeit in various forms. The underlying question is how many soldiers died during the Civil War?

For such a simple question, the potential answers can be the result of different definitions as well as how unknowns are handled in calculating that number or range of values. For decades, historians accepted, albeit sometimes grudgingly, William F. Fox’s and Thomas Leonard Livermore’s combined work from over a hundred years ago based on a painstaking accounting of deaths through Union administrative records such as battlefield losses, pension records, and hospital reports. Fox and Livermore made some additional assumptions based on Union experiences to derive Confederate losses, given that most Confederate records were destroyed or lost by the end of the Civil War.

In 2011, J. David Hacker, a historical demographer (or, demographic historian), published a decennial census-based treatise that raised the previously accepted estimates of Civil War dead by roughly twenty percent. His work has resulted in a fresh perspective regarding the discussion of “how many soldiers died during the Civil War.”

Yet it can be daunting to understand why these two methods give such different results. Which renders the most accurate or “true” number? Toward understanding both methods, it is important to examine how the “unknowns are handled,” which in turn involve some detailed discussions. I will try to pull back the curtain a little to examine especially Hacker’s assumptions, while also trying not to get too deep into the weeds about the methodological hows and whys.

[Personal Background Disclosure: My first job after graduate school was as a demographer for the Illinois Department of Public Health, producing population estimates for subareas of the state and serving as a state liaison to the U.S. Bureau of the Census. I was later a vital statistician and then a program administrator before becoming chief of the Illinois Center for Health Statistics. In short, my almost thirty years at the agency were dedicated to public health measurement and applied demography.]

For the purposes of this web format, I will cover the subject in three parts: 1) overview and concepts, 2) Hacker’s demographic assumptions, and 3) conclusions about his results in assessing the impact of the Civil War on the U.S. population.

PART 1 – Overview and Concepts

Why is knowing the number of Civil War dead important, besides as a human benchmark of national disruption or for comparing to other armed conflicts? Fox and Livermore’s numbers have been cited liberally over the decades, partially because it was the only set of comprehensive numbers available for the Civil War. Perhaps a better question is “can the human losses ever be quantified in a way that will satisfy all posterity purposes?” Among the introductions of James M. McPherson, Lesley J. Gordon, and Kevin Adams to Hacker’s article, it is asked “can we ever count the Civil War dead?”[1] The answer was “no.” There are far too many unknowns—grossly estimated battlefield statistics (especially for Confederate losses), African-American deaths, and the deaths due to guerrilla warfare, just to name a few—to even merit an attempt to improve upon the enumeration methodology of Fox and Livermore. Simply put, a direct count is unrealistic and impossible, and thus deriving a verifiable number for the Civil War dead will remain forever unknowable.

Before examining Hacker’s methodology, it is worthwhile to understand some basic demographic concepts. What is the difference between a count and an estimate? A count is an enumeration, like a regimental roll call in determining the number present. A U.S. decennial census of population is a similar count or enumeration.[2] In demography, a population estimate is a number often based on a census count or enumeration and then adjusted backward or forward in time from the date of the enumeration. Both counts and estimates are subject to errors, with censuses usually considered the more reliable benchmark.[3]

Intercensal population estimates are those made retrospectively between two censuses (e.g., for 2005, based on knowledge of the 2000 and 2010 decennial census results). Hacker’s methodology is based on using two U.S. censuses in particular—1860 and 1870—to estimate how many died during the intervening period.[4] That statement is a gross oversimplification on my part but it outlines the basic concept.

More specific to the Civil War, are published battlefield-related losses of life, say for the Battle of Shiloh or Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, counts or estimates? Technically, they are estimates based on counts of some of the known losses. But what might be included in those figures? Those killed by the enemy on the battlefield? Those who were killed by friendly fire and other battlefield accidents? Those who died at a nearby field or regimental hospital, either from wounds or surgeries? Those who fled the battlefield and drowned in the Tennessee River? Those evacuated to general army hospitals in Indiana, Illinois, and Mississippi (say) and subsequently succumbed to their wounds there? Those who were discharged because of wounds received at the battle and subsequently died at home within a year of the engagement? Civilians (including sutlers) and non-army partisans (e.g., guerrillas, nurses) who died in the Shiloh area as a result of the battle? Those missing in action (who may have become prisoners of war, deserted, died and bodies not found, etc.)? The answers depend on the nature of the question, whether that be for determining regimental losses, commemorative honors, military pensions, or lost productivity, as examples. Thus, for the Battle of Shiloh, it can be argued which losses of lives by circumstance should be included as part of “the Civil War dead” and those that might not.

Fox’s battlefield compilations were based on “killed or mortally wounded in action” using his own “revised and corrected” Union army regimental muster-out rolls.[5] He also pointed out that “These figures, let it be remembered, include only the killed and mortally wounded. To understand their full significance, one must bear in mind the additional loss of wounded men who survived their injuries—many of them surviving only to drag their marred and crippled lives along a lower plain of existence.”[6]

The methods, definitions, and purpose matter in deriving a number of the Civil War dead. Here in the twenty-first century, there is no reason to know the exact number for the Civil War soldiers’ sakes. There are no longer Civil War pensions to process, for example. While there still may be honors to retroactively bestow to those that have died, an accounting of everyone is not necessary for that and many other purposes. However, the broader question remains of how big an impact the Civil War had on the U.S. population, numerically, socially, and economically.

That is a question Hacker addressed in his 2011 article “A Census-Based Count of the Civil War Dead.” There are two basic demographic concepts that his methodology is based upon: 1) the population balancing equation, and 2) “excess deaths.” Understanding these two concepts is key to understanding how he estimated Civil War deaths. Fortunately, they both are relatively easy to grasp (but not always so easy to calculate).

The population (or, demographic) balancing equation is used for calculating the total number of people from a beginning point (T1, or time 1) to an ending point (T2, or time 2). Those two points can be from one decennial census to the next, which would be ten years. If it was for the world’s population, say ten years apart, the equation is . . .

Pop (T2) = Pop (T1) + B (T1 to T2) – D (T1 to T2)

. . . where Pop is population, B is births, and D is deaths. As an example put into words, the world’s population in year 2020 would be equal to the population in 2010, plus all births on the planet between 2010 and 2020, and minus all deaths between 2010 and 2020. (The births minus deaths part of the equation is sometimes referred to as “natural increase” when the resulting number is positive.)

If the equation is applied to a single country, say, then another part needs to be included in the equation:

Pop (T2) = Pop (T1) + B (T1 to T2) – D (T1 to T2) + MigIn (T1 to T2) – MigOut (T1 to T2)

. . . where MigIn is the migration into the country during the two time periods and MigOut is the migration out of the country during the two time periods. In essence, Earth currently is a closed system regarding the human population. However, an individual country generally is not closed because it can accept people from other parts of the world or lose people by their movement to live in other parts of the world.

To understand Hacker’s use of this equation in an historical context, specifically during the Civil War decade, Pop (T2) already is a known number from past decennial censuses. In other words, Pop (T1) is from the 1860 U.S. census and Pop (T2) is from the 1870 U.S. census. In knowing both of those population numbers, the equation can be rebalanced and solved for deaths:

D (T1 to T2) = Pop (T2) – Pop (T1) + B (T1 to T2) + MigIn (T1 to T2) – MigOut (T1 to T2)

In short, Hacker is using this form of the equation to figure out how many deaths there may have been during this decade, a period when there were no death certificates or a comprehensive vital records system.[7]

But, in the case of the Civil War, how can it be determined which deaths were due to war-related causes? This is where the second key concept comes into play: “excess deaths.” As Hacker explains, his estimate “is an indirect measure of excess male deaths occurring between the 1860 and 1870 censuses, not a direct count of the number of currently enlisted men killed in the war. Although excess male deaths include military men killed in the war, it also includes men who died between the date of their discharge from the armed forces and the 1870 census from wounds, infections, and diseases contracted during their service and non-enlisted men killed in guerilla raids and in other war-related violence. The number of excess deaths excludes, however, the deaths of men in military service who would have died in the absence of war.”[8] This also explains how Hacker’s approach is fundamentally different from that of Fox and Livermore’s.

Here is a more recent example of the excess death concept in action. In 1990, Chicago residents, especially, were subjected to a lingering July heat wave that caused a several-day spike in total deaths. At the time, a death due to high heat was narrowly defined and partially based on a measurable high core-body temperature caused by an external source. In some cases, people living alone were found dead in their homes, days later, and the definition of a high heat-caused death could not be strictly observed or applied. It simply was not known, definitively, if a person had died from high heat or from some other cause, such as heart or cerebrovascular diseases. However, for the Chicago population, it could be observed what the normal number of daily deaths from all causes combined should or could have been on an average day in July in 1990.[9] Thus, a good estimation of “heat-related” deaths was derived, irrespective of what may have appeared as the cause of death on death certificates. (Similarly, I have no doubt that the excess deaths concept will be applied in a year or so toward calculating an estimate of the current covid-19 deaths, especially given the limited amount of testing for covid-19 among the U.S. population.)

With the knowledge of the demographic balancing equation and excess deaths concepts, in next week’s installment I will provide a review of some of Hacker’s key methodology details and, perhaps more importantly, the assumptions in deriving his estimates of the Civil War dead.

PART 2 – Hacker’s Method and Assumptions

J. David Hacker used a demographic methodology that, for the most part, is independent of the resources used by William F. Fox and Thomas Leonard Livermore. His assumptions in executing the method are key to understanding both his calculations and reasoning. Some of these are simplifying assumptions, which render his calculations easier to do and more understandable (but also can be objects of criticism . . . or for refinement.) To Hacker’s credit, he outlines and explains each assumption, and I have presented them below, quoting the wording from his article.

Assumption 1: The native-born white population of the United States in the late-nineteenth century was closed to migration.

Recall this modified demographic balancing equation from Part 1 of my answer:

D (T1 to T2) = Pop (T2) – Pop (T1) + B (T1 to T2) + MigIn (T1 to T2) – MigOut (T1 to T2)

In this assumption, Hacker is suggesting that the [MigIn (T1 to T2) – MigOut (T1 to T2)] is essentially equal to zero. (D = deaths; B = births; T1 = initial time; T2 = subsequent time.) The equation then becomes:

D (T1 to T2) = Pop (T2) – Pop (T1) + B (T1 to T2)

He is specifically referring to the native-born white population enumerated in the 1850 through 1880 censuses. Certainly, some US-born people moved to Canada or Mexico, say, and some living in other countries returned to the US. These individual migrants, in and out of the US, in the decennial censuses potentially could bias the collective mortality results (for Hacker’s purposes), resulting in either an overstating or understating of the number of deaths experienced by the US white population. Hacker concludes that the offsetting biases due to any such movements were “low enough to be negligible” and hence he does not need to adjust for those effects.[10]

The reason it matters has to do with the survivorship ratios implicit in the age cohorts between the 1860 and 1870 censuses. For example, those age 20-24 years in the 1860 census would be age 30-34 in the 1870 census if they survived. Those that did not survive would have died either from a war-related cause or from some other cause. In the article, Hacker provides a population table by age and sex from the 1850 through 1880 censuses and another one showing the implicit survivorship ratios from one census to the next.[11] In the latter table, the 1860-70 survivorship ratios for males age 20-44, especially, are lower compared to the same for before and after the war. Hacker states “the war dramatically lowered the survival probability of men in these cohorts,” which is just what one would expect to find.[12]

Why is Hacker focusing on the native-born population? As we will see, he is first going to utilize certain two-census characteristics, especially survivorship, observed in the native-born US population to measure the demographic impact of the Civil War. Subsequently, he will argue that the non-native-born portion of the US population likely had similar survivorship experiences and subsequently adds them to his estimates in a later step.

Since Hacker is concerned with Civil War deaths among those of potential military age, there are no birth cohorts during a ten-year span that impacts (increases) any of the five-year age groups (among males age 10-44 years). As stated above, and if there also is no net migration, then the balancing equation can be further simplified to:

D (T1 to T2) = Pop (T2) – Pop (T1)

In short, it is a demographic truism that a closed population of young adults, say, can only change from one time period to the next by death within that cohort.

Assumption 2: Changes in the net undercount of the native-born white population among the four censuses affected males and females equally.

Not all US censuses are of equal quality and sometimes that can be an issue when making comparisons from one census to the next. Relative to the 1860 census, the 1870 census had a larger undercount, meaning more people were missed during the enumeration process. This also can bias mortality measurement. Hacker points out that the southern states may have been especially affected by the 1870 census undercount, meaning there likely were instances where whole households were missed. Demographers typically use a specific demographic analysis to estimate net undercount for each census.

The critical issue regarding this assumption is whether any of the four censuses in question tended to miss more males than females (or vice versa) during the enumerations. Others’ research has suggested these censuses tended to miss whole households rather than individuals within households. So, if it is true that the changes in the net undercounts affected males and females equally, then the differences between the sexes in survivorship would not be biased for comparative purposes. This detail is important, again, in observing the lower male survivorship due to the war.

Assumption 3: War-related mortality among white females age 10-44 was negligible relative to war-related mortality among white males age 10-44.

Why is Hacker interested in mortality for white females when the objective is to determine excess deaths among males? He is using the mortality pattern, or differential in mortality patterns, between females and males in five-year age increments to ultimately determine what the “normal” mortality was for males if there had been no Civil War. To do that, he is using other census results – namely 1850-60 and 1870-80 – to estimate what 1860-70 “normal” mortality could have been for white males age 10-44 years. This also explains why Assumption 2 is needed to establish that the census undercounts for females and males were similar for the mid-nineteenth century censuses.

In examining female mortality, Hacker flatly states that “the total number of civilian deaths during the Civil War is unknown,” and the majority of these would have occurred in the Confederacy.[13] While the Union armies did practice “hard war” measures, these were directed toward property and not civilians per se. Hacker makes special note of James McPherson’s estimate of 50,000 civilian deaths during the Civil War.[14] If correct, Hacker estimates that native-born southern white women would have experienced 9,000 of those deaths, which he concludes represents “a very small error relative to the expected numbers of male deaths.”[15] Hacker decides that the error is small enough to simply assume there were zero deaths to the civilian white female population. If he had factored in some amount of civilian female deaths, the female/male mortality differential also would have increased the number of male deaths. (I am presuming he is referring to not just civilian male deaths. If so, assuming zero white female deaths would make his resulting Civil War male death total more conservative.)

Assumption 4: The expected “normal” age pattern in the sex differential in survival for the 1860s is best approximated by averaging the sex differentials in survival observed in the 1850-60 and 1870-1880 intercensal periods.

This assumption is about selecting a preferred or “normal” set of survival rates, which in turn will be used to calculate male deaths during the 1860-1870 decade. This is how Hacker is simulating mortality as if the Civil War did not occur. Selecting a set of survival rates is a critical choice in later determining excess deaths due to the war, by way of comparison. Again, the reason for simply not using the 1860 and 1870 census survival ratios is because of the large differences in their relative undercounts. Hacker proposes using averages of the 1850-1860 ratios and the 1870-1880 ratios as a substitute for the 1860-1870 intercensal period. “If the average reflected the expected, or ‘normal,’ sex differential in the proportion surviving at each age group in the 1860s, subtracting the observed sex differential in the 1860-70 intercensal period from the average yields an estimate of the excess male proportion that failed to survival [sic] the 1860s (i.e., the excess proportion dying or excess male mortality)” presumably due to the Civil War.[16]

Again, to his credit, Hacker shows the excess male deaths resulting from using each of the three comparative standards for the five-year age groups 10-14 through 40-44: 1850-1860, 1870-1880, and an average of 1850-1860 and 1870-1880. Respectively, those totals are 451,000, 627,000, and 539,000 deaths. Hacker argues for using the averaged standard (539,000) and concludes: “Clearly, the choice of comparative standard has a large impact on the final estimate of excess male deaths and introduces a large margin of potential error.”[17]

Assumption 5: Foreign-born white males experienced the same rate of excess mortality as native-born white males.

According to Hacker, about “one-fifth of the white men of military age enumerated by the 1860 census were foreign-born” (i.e., non-native to the US).[18] Were their survival experiences between 1860 and 1870 different than those who were native-born? After examining some other researchers’ work related to this topic, Hacker concludes non-native white men’s mortality experiences were about the same as those who were native-born. In terms of mortality calculation, that allows Hacker to add these two populations together for each age group, thus summing to deaths for “total white males.” By adding in the foreign-born mortality experiences, this increases the excess male deaths total from 539,000 (for native-born only) to 673,000.

Assumption 6: The net census undercount of white men age 10-44 in the 1860 Census was between 3.7 and 6.9 percent, with a preferred estimate of 6.0 percent.

This is one of the more important assumptions because the net undercount percentage directly impacts the resulting mortality estimates. Up to this point in his estimation process, Hacker has been assuming that there was no net undercount in the 1860 census. Realistically, that is quite unlikely, especially given how the censuses were conducted in the mid-nineteenth century. Hacker arrives at a 6.0 percent undercount for white males age 10-44 years based on his earlier research.[19] By inflating these age cohorts by 6.0 percent, this adds 43,000 excess male deaths to the previous step’s 673,000 for a new total of 716,000 deaths. Hacker adds that “Given the small range in the estimates for the 1850-1930 period, it is probably safe to assume that the true net undercount of the 1860 census fell within the 3.7-6.9 percent range estimated for the other censuses.”[20]

Assumption 7: 36,000 black men died in the war.

Hacker states that determining black male deaths does not fit well into the two-census methodology, partially because “black civilian deaths . . . likely approached or exceeded the number of [black] military deaths.”[21] He also notes that it is uncertain how many of the black male deaths during the 1860s were due to the Civil War. So, he simply uses an estimate of 36,000 black soldier deaths determined by the War Department. Thus, 36,000 is added to the 716,000 deaths, from above, to give 752,000 excess male deaths.

Assumption 8: Excess male mortality in the 1860s was due entirely to the American Civil War.

While undoubtedly the Civil War was the primary reason for these excess male deaths, is it reasonable to assume it was the sole cause? For example, the Civil War changed the pattern of diseases that men experienced, but should that be included as a war effect?[22] As Hacker puts it, “Arguably, the postwar deaths of soldiers mustered out of service with diseases contracted while in camp, the deaths of men from complications related to unhealed battle wounds, and the postwar suicide of men with post-traumatic stress disorder should be attributed to the war.”[23] Hacker argues the war is the “overwhelming explanation for excess male mortality in the 1860s.”[24]

Hacker ends the article with as assessment of his excess deaths methodology. “Each step in the calculation of excess male deaths in the 1860s introduces potential error. For the final estimate to be useful, some sense of its robustness to alternative assumptions is needed. The most critical assumptions are the net census undercount of the 1860 census and the assumed ‘normal’ male-female differential in ten-year cohort survival ratios in the 1860s.”[25] Using low assumptions for census undercount and sex differentials for survival, versus using the maximum assumptions, gives an excess male death range of 618,000 to 879,000 (recalling that using his “preferred” assumptions gave an estimate of 752,000). Other minimum and maximum adjustments for his other stated assumptions would expand this range more modestly. Hacker adds “It is very unlikely, however, that the true number of excess male deaths fell at or near one of the two extremes.”[26]

Next week, I will highlight some of the conclusions from Hacker’s estimates, including what has been added to our knowledge about deaths due to the Civil War.

PART 3 – Concluding Remarks about Hacker’s Results and the Impact of the Civil War on the U.S. Population

Before proceeding, here is an executive summary of PART 2 regarding J. David Hacker’s methodology and assumptions in deriving a number (a range, actually) of those who had died due to the Civil War. Hacker strived to divide out the deaths to those who would have died during the 1860-70 decade without the Civil War occurring (i.e., “normal” expected mortality) and those that additionally died due to the Civil War. Both of these sets of deaths are for men age 10-44 years old (in 1860), meaning those who were of potential military age during the war. He uses survivorship rates from additional mid-nineteenth century US decennial censuses to determine “normal” survivorship between the 1860 and 1870 censuses. After some census undercount adjustments, especially for the 1870 census, the actual observed survivorship during that decade would include both the normal amount of mortality plus that due to the war. Subtracting the normal from what actually occurred gave the number of those who died due to the war, or “excess deaths.” There are additional adjustments and assumptions regarding black mortality, female to male mortality experiences, the 1860 census undercount, and the mortality experiences of those who were born in the US and those who were born outside of the US and participated in the Civil War. Hacker’s final, rounded estimates for the number of deaths to males of military age due to the Civil War was a range of 650,000 to 850,000, with a “preferred,” central estimate of 750,000 deaths.

Hacker’s work, compared to that of Fox and Livermore, does not address the same question as the latter. Fox and Livermore sought an answer regarding “the numbers and losses” to regiments due to military-related actions (i.e., battlefield losses and camp deaths due to diseases) which in turn determined combat strength and the numbers of soldiers engaged during the battles of the Civil War. Hacker’s work addresses “how many soldiers died due to the Civil War,” which also would include deaths to former Civil War soldiers who subsequently died prematurely (and likely due to the war). Ergo, the resulting answers cannot (or, should not) be similar, either in numerical value or interpretation.

Furthermore, Fox and Livermore’s efforts constitute a direct method of counting or enumeration of the Union armies (and rather more indirectly for the Confederate armies due to lack of surviving documentation) through regimental records, battlefield reports, and pension records. Hacker’s work, however, while involving enumerations from the US decennial censuses, constitutes an indirect method based on who did not survive the 1860-70 decade due to effects of the war.

However, that is not to say Fox and Livermore’s combined work is equal in credibility as Hacker’s and the two studies simply addressed different questions. Fox and Livermore tried, especially for the Union side of the equation, to do a comprehensive accounting style of enumeration where there were, in many cases, conflicting reports, and incomplete and unverifiable records. In such cases, they used their best judgment. Basically, their task and intentions were noble but too many unknows limit the veracity and value of their results at a national level. And among historians, their results were the best (and only) comprehensive Civil War numbers available for many decades to come. For individual battlefield strengths, in many cases they may still be the best available.

Generally, Hacker’s method yields a more comprehensive result, based on existing census data and, perhaps more importantly, using a relatively replicable set of calculations. The replication aspect is key, because his work can be revisited, further refined, and meaningfully questioned. The eight assumptions in Hacker’s article can be changed or improved upon and hence create a different number of deaths or range of deaths. For example, further research on the estimates of the 1860 census enumeration undercount (Hacker’s Assumption 6) may suggest a value different than 6.0 percent, or that the estimates of black soldier deaths (Assumption 7) is found to be too low (or high). Among the Civil War History article introductory comments about the magnitude of the new estimates, James M. McPherson states that Hacker’s “conclusion involves a number of assumptions, but all of them are quite reasonable and persuasive.”[27] Are they? I suppose time will tell how well they hold up to additional research and scrutiny, which is possible because of his explicit, methodical approach.

Examined in a slightly different light, is it more informative to know regimental losses during the Civil War, or the broader “human cost of the Civil War”?[28] The former is useful for determining fighting strengths, as well as how many died at each battle. The latter is important for assessing the societal costs of the war, such as economic impacts, the number of disrupted families (which in turn would have implications about pensions or the volume of widows and orphans), post-war labor force availability, and other indications and legacies of the war’s destructiveness.

Recall in PART 1 of my answer, I used the Battle of Shiloh, Tennessee, to pose the question regarding which deaths were due to the battle, such as to those trying to swim the Tennessee River to escape, civilians (e.g., local populace, sutlers and other camp followers), captives and succumbed at a POW camp, wounded who died at home a year later, and the like. Part of that exercise was to think broadly about the mortality impact of the Civil War. All of those examples, if each only applied to males age 10-44 years old in 1860, would fit within Hacker’s concept of excess deaths, meaning those that died due to, or because of, the occurrence of the Civil War. Hacker’s focus was on those males of potential military age during the Civil War. Thus, civilians of other ages, females, and older soldiers and officers, as examples, would not be included as part of the “excess deaths” definition.

In summary, Hacker has given historians and researchers plenty to think about. Beyond examining the robustness of his assumptions and final estimate, we all can gain a better appreciation of the longer “demographic shadow” from the aftermath of the Civil War.[29] And to address the original question in PART 1 – how many soldiers died during the Civil War? – I suppose I would change “during” to “due to,” because the former wording may represent too specific a time period (i.e., 1861-65). That would put the question in line with Hacker’s perspective that the mortality effects of the war lingered beyond its official conclusion. So, currently, the best answer is Hacker’s 750,000 estimate.

[1] J. David Hacker, “A Census-Based Count of the Civil War Dead,” Civil War History 57, no. 4 (December 2011), 308. In the quotation, the italics are from the original article.

[2] Decennial censuses generally have had estimated net undercounts. Undercounts are also called coverage errors.

[3] Census counts are more likely to be used for legal purposes (e.g., legislative representation, certain federal funding) and population estimates are often used for planning and statistical purposes (e.g., allocating services or other resources).

[4] During the nineteenth century in the U.S., there was no comprehensive vital records system for recording births and deaths.

[5]William F. Fox, Regimental Losses in the American Civil War, 1861–1865 (Albany, New York: Albany Publishing Co., 1889), 2, 7.

[6] Ibid., 9.

[7] There were no birth certificates either, although the birth number can be approximated for the ten-year period of T1 to T2 by observing the population age 0-10 years at T2, all whom would have all been born during the intervening T1 to T2 ten-year period (and after making adjustments for mortality and migration occurring within this age cohort).

[8] Italics in the quotation are by Hacker and from: Hacker, “A Census-Based Count,” 312.

[9] Throughout time, including now, collective deaths have seasonality variability.

[10] Hacker, “A Census-Based Count,” 321.

[11] As a hypothetical example, a survivorship ratio of .8000 means 80 percent of, say, an age cohort 40-44 years old in the first census survived to age 50-54 years old in the second census. Conversely, and assuming no migration, 20 percent of them died during the ten-year interval.

[12] Hacker, “A Census-Based Count,” 321.

[13] Ibid., 326.

[14] James M. McPherson, The Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era (New York: Ballantine, 1988), 619.

[15] Hacker, “A Census-Based Count,” 328.

[16] Ibid., 329.

[17] Ibid., 334.

[18] Ibid., 334.

[19] J. David Hacker, “New Estimates of Census Coverage in the United States, 1850-1930,” Social Science History, 37(1, 2013), 71-101.

[20] Hacker, “A Census-Based Count,” 338.

[21] Ibid., 338.

[22] Based on Illinois Civil War soldiers’ letters, deaths due to disease could occur after just a few weeks of recruits entering a mustering camp.

[23] Hacker, “A Census-Based Count,” 339.

[24] Ibid., 340.

[25] Ibid., 344.

[26] Ibid., 348.

[27] Ibid., 309.

[28] Ibid., 348. This is a phrase from the last sentence in the article.

[29] This is a James M. McPherson term from a 2011 Binghamton University online article about Hacker’s work.

———————————————————————————————————————

Dead horses and mules (added 1 May 2020)

What became of dead horses and mules in the aftermath of a battle? Were they buried?

“If a glossary of battles could be transcribed from the quartermasters’ reports of ‘actions’ where Mules were lost, it would make a fearful and wonderful record.”[1]

Allatoona, Georgia, June 8, 1864, to sister, Sarah

we passed over where they had been fighting about a week ago and it was a sight to see the old clothes and wagings [wagons] and harness and mules where they had all been burned the mules hitched to the wagon it dont seem so funy to hear of them fighting down here as it did when I was at Illinois

—Private David Treadway, 14th Infantry, Cass County

camp near Murfreesboro, Tennessee, June 8, 1863, to aunt

My Health is pretty good at present – though considerable sickness prevails about here I presume it is in consequence of the vast amount of decayed animal matter. Thousands of Dead Horses & Mules are laying on the Battle Field & in our vicinity I can account for it in no other way

—1st Lieutenant Anson Patterson, 100th Infantry, Will County

Dead Horses from an Artillery Battery near the Trostle Barn at Gettysburg (Library of Congress). Regarding the artillery on the battlefield, it sometimes was the enemy’s tactic to aim and shoot at the horses, for without them the cannons could not be easily hauled away and thus more likely to be captured.

[scattered like the rain / on the battlefield landscape / men mules and horses]

During the Civil War, the number of horses, mules, and other draft animals who died doing military duty has been estimated to be 1.5 million or more. Like their human counterparts, more died off the battlefield than from participation on it. Unlike their human counterparts, perhaps the single leading cause of dead was exhaustion (e.g., worked to death, weakened by starvation, left hopelessly mired in mud).

Savannah, Georgia [referring to Sherman’s March to the Sea and November 21, 1864]

it was the muddyest iever sen in my life we marched all day threw mud up to our nees and sometimes deeper we marched all day threw it and we killed more than one hundred mules

—Corporal Charles Sanders, 101st Infantry, Morgan County

Marietta, Georgia, August 23, 1864, to wife, Clara

My sick list is larger now than at any time before, altho’ this should & would be a healthy place if the dead mules & fetid matter about town were thoroughly removed.

—1st Assistant Surgeon James Gaskill, 45th Infantry, Bond County

It often was a bigger operation to dispose of the dead horses and mules than burying the soldiers who had fallen on a battlefield. Some of the animals were dragged and hauled into pits dug for that purpose, but probably the more normative practice was to make heaps of the carcasses and burn them. (A horse can weigh around 1,000 pounds.) “. . . burying a horse is not an easy task. The method established by both armies was to pile up the dead horses and mules and set fire to the remains. The stench of burning, rotten horsemeat rose high on the greasy, dark smoke–a funeral pyre of incredible proportions. The only duty worse for a soldier than burying humans was dealing with animals in the aftermath of battle.”[2]

Dead Horses after the First Day of Battle at Gettysburg; drawing by Edwin Forbes (Library of Congress)

Horses and draft animals were part of the backbone of the army, essential to the cavalry and artillery but also to haul military supplies.

Mounted Confederate reenactor at “Lincoln Days” in Pike County, IL, 1 June 2019

camp near Nashville, Tennessee, February 12, 1863, to sister, Isabelle

from Danville to Louisville . . . we made quite a respectable show on the road between 5 & 6,000 men with a train of about 250, 6[–]mule wagons taking up the road for a distance of full five miles

—Corporal James M. Taylor, 96th Infantry, Lake County

Despite all such animals’ service, they were deemed an expendable commodity and replaced as needed and available. “The Army Mule’s market value or cost to the government ranged from one hundred and fifteen to one hundred and fifty dollars.”[3] Visiting armies also confiscated horses and draft animals from local farmers, for instance, or sometimes acquired them similarly simply to keep them out of the hands of the enemy. Nearly all conscripted horses and mules earned respect through their “soldiering” and doing duty, yet they often were abused by being subjected to harsh circumstances and neglect, all in the name of war.

Vicksburg, Mississippi, July 18, 1863, to wife, Sallie

We are camped on the Battle ground it is a great looking place yesterday we passed through the citty every thing looks demolished some houses are completely riddled with shells scarcely ahouse has escaped the streets in many places is torn ut [up] by shells dead horses and dead mules are here and they are to be seen there is all kinds of cannon shot and pieces of shells scattered all over the ground the trees where we are camped are completely riddled.

—Corporal Thomas Pankey, 91st Infantry, Greene County

[1] Henry Anson Castle, The Army Mule and Other War Sketches (Indianapolis: Bowen-Merrill, 1898), 50. [The author served in both the 73^rd IL Infantry and the 137^th IL Infantry during the Civil War.]

[2] Meg Groeling, The Aftermath of Battle: The Burial of the Civil War Dead (El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie LLC, 2015), 38-9.

[3] Castle, The Army Mule, 52-3.

———————————————————————————————————————

Whole letters versus excerpts (added 24 April 2020)

Chris M. asked why does the book feature excerpts rather than whole letters?

In settling upon the format for the book, I thought carefully about the intent of the excerpts. I wanted to have a finished product that appealed to as many readers as possible, including those who might not otherwise be particularly familiar with the Civil War. Personal, intimate perspectives are both easily digestible and inductive toward understanding the Civil War period, as well as surmounting (as much as might be possible) the famous Walt Whitman declaration that “the real war will never get in the books.”

Complete letters and published letter collections have their rightful place among the Civil War literature, especially when the original letters are well-written, insightful historically, and comprise an interesting (usually personal) narrative. However, the vast majority of Civil War letter writers and their surviving collections rarely meet these criteria, and most modern readers (and publishers) would find them dull and repetitious in content. The book does have two or three complete letters within its covers but, besides being exemplary, it was because they also were short and illustrated a topic.

Many Civil War treatises utilize short excerpts – sometimes not even whole sentences – in illustrating an author’s point or in making a compelling argument. (I hesitate to cite any actual examples, even by Civil War authors whom I admire as gifted writers.) What often is missing is why the soldier had made a particular statement, what was the larger context, from where was it written, and to whom. Yes, there are citations and footnotes for such quotations, but the larger circumstances cannot be deduced from the book or article alone, or without chasing down those citations.

So, my “middle porridge, best-of-both” approach of integrating letter writers’ themes in a topical arrangement is a prominent feature throughout the book. It also allows the reader to get to know the writers, in particular those soldiers who have made multiple contributions, so to speak, to the book. I will add that with the e-book version, a reader can enter a soldier’s name in the search feature of the e-reader and then be able to skip to each page where that soldier has a quotation. You also can do that with the printed version, through the book’s index, but it is faster and easier to do in the electronic version.

———————————————————————————————————————

Typhoid and typhus (added 17 April 2020)

On page 171, you stated “General Curtis’s Army of the Southwest found Helena a particularly sickly place, where soldiers were reduced by dysentery, malaria, typhoid, and typhus.” What is the difference between typhoid and typhus?

The short answer is typhoid, a common disease during the Civil War, is spread through human fecal-contaminated food and water. It killed perhaps 30,000 Union soldiers during the course of the war. Typhus is spread by lice, ticks, mites/chiggers, and fleas, and these pests’ infected fecal matter can enter humans when their bites are scratched (causing skin wounds). Both diseases are transmitted by bacteria: Salmonella typhi (typhoid) and Rickettsia variants (typhus). Both can cause fevers and headaches, among other symptoms. (Civilians, of course, could also suffer from these same diseases. For example, Stephen A. Douglas died of typhoid in June 1861.)

However, typhoid and typhoid fever were much more common during the Civil War than typhus, even though the pests associated with the spread of typhus were common in Civil War camps. Perhaps to some extent, typhoid fever was easier or more readily diagnosed by physicians at the time. Specific to Helena, Arkansas, Rhonda Kohl described diseases afflicting Union troops there in the second half of 1862. “Helena had two diagnosed cases of typhus between July 1862 and January 1863. . . . The Department of the Tennessee had 68 cases, with 31 men dying of the disease. . . . Though there were only two diagnosed cases at Helena, many were likely misdiagnosed as remittent fever (malaria) or as typhoid. There is no doubt that Civil War surgeons had a difficult time identifying typhus and distinguishing the disease from typhoid and remittent fever. Even in cases positively diagnosed as typhus, surgeons also recorded bilious vomiting, diarrhea, and bowel hemorrhage, which are all symptoms of typhoid and remittent fever.”[1] She went on to suggest some of these same symptoms could also be caused by surgeons’ sometimes harsh medicines, which could be more harmful than curative.

army hospital (perhaps in Kentucky), November 12, 1861, to a “Dear Friend” in the Cole family

It is my most painful and melancholy duty to inform you of an event which has transpired in our Co. . . . John McRill is dead — he was taken sick some time ago, I do not recollect the date, the sickness developed itself in the form of measles—he went to Hospital and before he was fully recovered, came out and exposed himself in the open air—in addition to this he made rather too free use of some dietic articles . . . the consequence was, a relapse succeeded this state of things, the remnants of the measles had in common language “stuck in” typhoid fever followed, & then congestion of the brain . . . there was no mistake about it “he had gone to that bourne from whence no traveller ‘eer returns”

—Private Thomas Lancaster, 8th Missouri (Union) Infantry, Peoria County

Glenna Schroeder-Lein in her book on Civil War medicine describes typhoid fever. “Classic typhoid began with a fever accompanied by general fatigue and depression. Diarrhea was often a symptom, although some typhoid patients had constipation. As the disease worsened, the victim suffered headache, back and muscle aches, and loss of appetite. The soldier might have chills, delirium, a distended abdomen, and bronchitis, possibly leading to pneumonia.”[2] Given this description, here is a possible case in a soldier’s own words.

Camp Fremont at Cape Girardeau, Missouri, October 9, 1861, to brother and sister

after the first day that I got to camp I have never bin able to sit have bin under the doctor ever since I have never eat anything since I came back only drank some tea. . . I have bin hart sick all the time my bones akes all the time like they would burst and the fever is in my eyes it appears some times like they will burst out every thing that I try to eat gags me except tea I dont know that I can hold out to finish this letter or not but Ill try

—Private James Haines, 11th Missouri (Union) Infantry, Sangamon County

Especially related to contracting infectious diseases such as typhoid fever, Civil War camps were notorious for poor sanitation and soldiers not using the “sinks” (latrines), including for bowel movements. Typhoid was sometimes called “camp fever.”

Field Hospital at Chattanooga, Tennessee, July 17, 1864, to uncle, Sergeant Levi Otis Colburn of the 51st Infantry

I have heard that I was marked for the Invalid corps but I hope it is not true, but if I am I cant help it. For I know I am not to blame for being disabled, my breast feels worse since the wether has got so hot than it did when I first came here. I am in charge of a squad of men on fatigue duty, but you know that is not very hard duty, we are on duty every day but Sunday, a digging sinks and cleaning up dirt and filth around camp

—Private Samuel Walker, 51st Infantry, Cook County

Sanitary conditions in field hospitals could exacerbate problems with infectious diseases.

camp near Gallatin, Tennessee, on December 19, 1862, to friend, Lizzy Wilson

you must excuse me for being so long in writing to you as I went to the hospital with the measles on the 25th of Nov. . . . when I went to the hospital I was croweded in to a room about 16tn feet square in this were six others the beds consisted of smal bunks large enough for one man. the floor was covered with straw and filth of every discription. I was in that room evey day without geting to step out for 18 days while I was there 7vn died in that room as one died and was carried out another was brought in. . . . 22 of the 80th sleep in the hospital grave yard at Mumfordsville [Munfordville] Ky.

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Undoubtably, typhoid and very possibly typhus thrived given the conditions within prisoner-of-war camps, such as at Andersonville, Georgia.

“My War Experience,” presented April 12, 1888, in Chicago, Illinois, at a veteran reunion

In the stockade were nearly 35,000 Union prisoners of war, with about three thousand and five hundred confederate Infantry . . . stationed near as guards. The camp . . . was situated on either side of a small creek, and contained little less than 25 acres of ground, enclosed with high double stockade . . . I cannot give a description of the surroundings as they realy were—words fail [to] express the thoughts that pass through the mind of the new commer. the many questions asked by the older prisoners . . . the poor half demented fellows, who looked so worn out, emaciated, dirt begrimed—covered with rags, filth & vermin—some rotten with the scurvy,—others with wounds in which gangrene had found its way. . . . As we were without barracks, tents or blankets, and many without coats, our prospects for the future can better be imagined than described. . . . the confederates having their camp located above the stockade, and near the creek, the refuse of their camp came through our prison, and in the after noon, a thick greasy scum was on the water. . . . we done the “skirmish act,” (any old soldier understands the phrase -) or in other words we pulled off our shirts and hunted the . . . grayback [lice] – among the seams of his clothing . . . for the ground was covered with the creeping vermin.

—Lewis Lake, former private, 1st Light Artillery, Winnebago County

[1] Rhonda M. Kohl, “‘This Godforsaken Town’: Death and Disease at Helena, Arkansas,” Civil War History 50, no. 2 (June 2004), 134.

[2] Glenna R. Schroeder-Lein, The Encyclopedia of Civil War Medicine (New York: Routledge, 2015), 310.

———————————————————————————————————————

Misspelling “soldier” (added 10 April 2020)

In the book’s Preface you stated: “Some soldiers wrote rather phonetically. For example, ‘soldiers’ could be spelled ‘solgers.’” Why was that word often misspelled?

Camp Douglas, near Chicago, Illinois, January 16, 1862, to sister

they [there] was wone of they Boys froes [froze] to death Tuesday knight & wone other fellow died & the Second leiutenants with the measles thay is to [two?] that is sick in our company know thay was a going to send him to the hospital but the boys would not let him be taken thare to die so wee take care of him & wone of the boys sets up with him evry knight . . . You said that yu had a good time to the Dance I should a liked to have been thare hugly but I am a solger and cant dance [bolding added]

—Sergeant Ashley Alexander, 12th Cavalry, Winnebago County

Sergeant Alexander perhaps exemplifies why phonetic writers especially misspelled the word “soldier.” Charles Mackay, writing in 1874, succinctly explains the origin of the word “soldier.” Few words regarding “the military life and profession . . . remained in the Anglo-Saxon language for any time after the Norman conquest [of England in 1066]. Even the words “war” and “peace” are from the Norman French, and rapidly superseded the original Krieg and Friede. The words soldier, corporal, sergeant, lieutenant, captain, major, colonel, and general are all from the Norman French, and have utterly dispossessed the ancient names.”[1] Note that Sergeant Alexander also misspelled “lieutenant,” albeit slightly.

unknown location, likely during August 1863, to William H. Clark, a fellow sergeant

Well Sargent I dont think ther is many rebes in this contry all tho they kiled one of our pickets day before yester day he belonged to the caverly they sliped up on him and shot him and then run ther was one of our negro pickets shot a man out of the same Redgement the same day he halted him and he wold not stop and he fired and kiled him [bolding added]

—Sergeant Presley Dollins, 120th Infantry, Saline County

Even Sergeant Dollins, writing to a fellow sergeant, misspelled his own rank.

In short (and referring back to Mackay), conquests have consequences, including in regards to language.

[1] Charles Mackay, Lost Beauties of the English Language: An Appeal to Authors, Poets, Clergymen and Public Speakers, 4^th edition (London: Chatto and Windus, 1879), 68.

———————————————————————————————————————

Leading volunteer soldiers (added 3 April 2020)

How did leading volunteer soldiers differ from doing so in the US regular army?

Nashville, Tennessee, July 24, 1863, to friend, Lizzy Wilson

a person canot do as he will but do as he can in the army.

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Before the start of Civil War hostilities, there were roughly 16,000 officers and soldiers in the United States army, many of them in companies stationed on the western frontier. Ultimately, this number represented a tiny fraction (0.08%) of the approximately 2.1 million soldiers who served in the Union army. (NB: some of the regular army officers and soldiers forsook the US and joined the Confederate army at the start of the war.) Thus, the rest of the Union army’s numbers consisted of volunteers, meaning those who were enlisted or commissioned from the individual states, plus a much lesser number who were conscripted through the draft. It resulted in the “regular army” being either absent or represented by relatively small numbers on the Union side of Civil War battles.

Here are two side-notes. First, Illinois army regiments’ names included the word “volunteers.” For example, the 7^th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry is its full name. (In the book, any soldier from this regiment would be listed as simply “7^th Infantry” to minimize word repetition.) Second, some Illinois volunteer soldiers previously had been in local militias. However, such pre-war militias were local, usual small, and drilled primarily in parade-ground marching. They were not efficient in regimental maneuvers nor were familiar with army firearms, let alone combat ready.

At the start of the war, recruiting soldiers was a state responsibility, not a federal one. Thus, on April 15, 1861, one day after the formal surrender of the Fort Sumter, President Lincoln issued a proclamation, stating that “in virtue of the power in me vested by the Constitution and the laws, [I] have thought fit to call forth, and hereby do call forth, the militia of the several States of the Union, to the aggregate number of seventy-five thousand.” Later that same day, Secretary of War Simon Cameron issued a “Call to Arms” to state governors. Illinois’s Governor Richard Yates was requested to raise “six regiments of militia.” As in many Union states, Illinois’s citizens responded enthusiastically and quickly had a surfeit of volunteers. So, some potential soldiers had to be initially turned away.

Camp Goodell, Joliet, Illinois, May 27, 1861, to Mr. J. A. Kuhn

catastrophee a jeneral excitement prevails through out the camp the boys are dissatisfyed with the present prospects, that is to bee disbanded on the 15th of June and go home with out a fight some of them will have a fight before leaving any how whither any enemy presents its self or not

—enlistee George Kiser, McLean County

In June, however, he became Corporal Kiser in the 20th Infantry.

Still, as volunteers, even as eager ones, their expectations in regard to soldiering – especially discipline – yielded a somewhat different mindset than those of career military men in the U.S. regular army. Even though taking the oath of allegiance (“I have never voluntarily borne arms against the United States” and swear “to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic …”), being subject to military leadership, and eligible for harsh punishments for infractions and disobeying orders, volunteer soldiers often harbored a core belief that they had some entitlement to free will. This was partially based on the fact that they freely volunteered to join the army in the nation’s time of need.

Camp Morgan, Mound City, Illinois, October 9, 1861, to brother, David

Crizer [Second Lieutenant Otho D. Critzer of Co. A] is the best man in our Company for all he is (red headed) he is as sociable a man as ever was he makes no distinction privates and officers. he treats us as well as he treats the uper tens he dont turn up his nose if he smells a private coming that is the kind of a man to win the favor of soldiers. what is an officer without the good will of his men? isnt he in more danger than a (high private) if we ever should be called on to the Battle field? I answer yes. common sense ought to teach them that they cant come [to play] the (shenanegin) game over Volunteers. they must know that we did’nt come at the call of our Country to be trampled on as we was’nt elected on that ticket. an officer is no officer at all until he knows how to treat his men as he would treat himself what do you think about it?

—Private James Swales, 10th Infantry, Morgan County

A few months later, Private Swales mentioned discipline again to his younger brother.

Mound City, Illinois, December 2, 1861, to brother, “Dave”

times are more than dreadful yesterday morning the Col[onel] and one of the Cap’ns come near killing our [acting?] fourth Sergeant he was out in town the night previous to his b[e]ing hut [hurt?] and got slightly on a tight and went to a house of ilfame and as the bully of the house reports he tried to rob one of the women of some of money, but it hase been proved to false about his trying to take the money that was a false accusation. any how he was arrested and brought before the Cols head Quarters to be examined whether he was guilty of the charge brought against him. and while the trial was on, a few harsh words past on both sides, in which the Ser. caled the Col a bloody son of a bich at the same time shoving the Col back by catching by the wind pipe. at that the Col extricated him self from the grasp of our sergeant and took a gun that was near, and delt him two severe blows which knocked his brains out of his skull – and after he fell the officer of the day cut a severe gash on his head with his sword. fears are entertained of his recovery. he is badly used up. [This may have been Corporal James H. Stokes, who subsequently survived the war] . . . the military law is strict has to be observed at all hazzard. times are getting squally and no mistake. if I could see you I could tell you of some bloody times that has been in the bloody tenth, and nary Battle yet, scrapes just here among our[s]elves.

—Private James Swales

No doubt, it could be a harsh adjustment from civilian to military life, especially during wartime.

Strasburg, Virginia, March 31, 1862, to “Dear ‘Darling’ Cousin”

hundreds of men are thrown togegher and exposed to privation—and deprived of the restraining influence of Society and Women—They at once follow the bent of their own depraved natures &cccc [etc., etc.] For instance A Co. is raised—of patriotic though chicken hearted boys some from the field—some from School—a mixed multitude with various tastes and habits &c.—their liberty is at once limited by rigid military rule—from plenteous tables—to the hard fare of the camp—from warm sleeping rooms—to exposure through the long nights—of cold and heat—mud rain dust sleet snow and frost in which time hundreds die in hospital—where tens die by the shock of Battle—and it is the best of officers and the Best of Causes that can keep an army from utter demoralization

—Private Ransom Bedell, 39th Infantry, Cook County

Helena, Arkansas, August 14, 1862, to father

We have too many band buy [“bandbox” meaning neat, clean] officers in the army, now. . . . I do not think much of a mans patriotism that wont go unless he can go as a commisioned officer.

—Private William Marsh, 13th Infantry, Will County

Beyond personal ideologies and reasons for participating in the Civil War, there were trust and respect – to greater and lesser degrees – that formed in each regiment and army between leadership and enlisted soldiers. These were forged by experiences both inside and outside of combat. In some cases the trust was frail and fragile; in other cases, it could be strong and enduring. The book chapter Leaders, Generals, and “Old Abe” have some good examples of that.

———————————————————————————————————————

As a reference book (added 27 March 2020)

How can your book be used as a reference guide?

When I was writing the book, I realized (and planned) it also would be used as a reference guide, especially since it is rich in primary source materials.

Overall, the book is arranged topically, both by chapter and within chapters. For example, if one is interested in what Illinois soldiers wrote regarding the Emancipation Proclamation, there is a section within the Leaders, Generals, and ‘Old Abe’ chapter that contains those quotations. If one would like to further explore the soldiers who contributed to the Emancipation Proclamation section, Appendix A can be used to find the relevant letters collections at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library. Or, more simply, one could look up other quotations by these same soldiers elsewhere in the book by searching for their names in the index. I should add that the book’s index is as complete and comprehensive as possible. For example, if one wanted to know if apples are mentioned in the book, “fruit” is one of the index words, with four entries (and two that mention apples). Similar in specificity, “eggs” and “coffee” also are included in the index.

Having a copy of the e-book edition makes searching for soldiers, quotations through key words, and Illinois regiments even easier by using the “find” function. For example, if one is looking for instances of “tobacco,” putting that word in the find box yields hits on pages 71, 73, 114, and 134 that are quotations within soldiers’ letters. However, soldiers did not always correctly spell the word, so searching for “toba” adds relevant finds on pages 71 (a second one) and 86. Similarly regarding the above apple example, using the find function shows matches on pages 74 and 142. However, when searching for “aple” an additional entry is found on page 65, where a soldier wrote “thare was three man poisend here last week on aples tha was fetch in by women” visiting his camp. Regarding regiment searches, each quotation’s footer has been standardized, listing the soldier’s rank (at the time of the letter), regiment, and Illinois county where the soldier resided at the time of enlistment. Both the printed index and the find function will help the reader discover regiments mentioned in the brief biographies of Appendix A. That is, through the course of the war some soldiers joined two or more regiments in succession (and sometimes due to consolidation). So, be aware that for any given soldier the quotations in the book’s main text may only reflect time with one particular regiment.

[Coincidentally, SIU Press is having a 50 percent off e-book sale. Visit their homepage – www.siupress.com – and you will see the discount details in the top banner scroll.]

The book also serves as a general guide to how and what soldiers wrote regarding their letters. In that sense, the book can be used to understand and read most any soldier’s letters written during the Civil War. Soldiers wrote about “French leave,” bounty jumping, haversacks, hardtack, hearing tattoo in camp, and a host of other Civil War phrases and ephemera. In other words, having read this book, one will be better prepared to understand other soldiers’ letters when reading them for the first time. That is, the book helps to explore and explain the soldiery mindset.

Reviewer James M. Cornelius wrote about the book: “He provides a guided tour through thousands of surviving letters by selecting the most representative and the most interesting. Illinois soldiers were numerous enough to form a microcosm of the entire Northern outlook, and so become a touchstone for the national war effort.” Reviewer Mark T. Pohlad wrote: “Flotow’s scholarship and commentary make this an indispensable and rich primary source for a wide array of scholars, students, Civil War buffs, anyone interested in this region.”

———————————————————————————————————————

U.S. and regimental flags (added 20 March 2020)

What were the differences between the U.S. and regimental flags?

Both the national colors and the regiment flag were points of pride. For the Union, the (34 or 35) stars and stripes represented the nation, and the regimental flag symbolized those soldiers’ state or local region.

Manchester, Tennessee, August 15, 1863, to friend, Miss Mollie Chapman

Do you ever sing, for the benefit (?) of your traitor acquaintances, “The flag with thirty-four Stars?” It is set to the same music as “The Bonnie Blue Flag.” If you should play the air a few moments until they were expecting “The Bonnie Blue Flag” and then sing our flag instead, I think it would please the Copperheads!

—Captain David Norton, 42nd Infantry, Cook County

Kansas was the 34^th state, becoming so just prior to the Civil War.

(courtesy of Jacobolus (SVG) – Adobe Illustrator (SVG), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=733561)

The 35^th state was West Virginia, which entered the Union in June 1863.

A number of Illinois regimental flags were made by seamstresses from the area where a regiment was raised or formed.

Camp Yates, Springfield, Illinois, April 27, 1861, to “Dear friend”

we are all in good cheer and . . . willing to fight, for that, Glorious flag of Our Union which those young Ladies made the comps [companies] a present of it untill we wade in the enemys blood up to our necks and if we ever get a chance to get a pop at Jef Davis we will take his head and put it to the top of our flag Staf tell the young Ladies of alton that we will fight for our flag as long as there is a man left and if there is not a man left to return the flag

—Private Thomas Barnett, 9th Infantry, Madison County

The regimental (or “battle”) flags often were square. As the war went on, some regiments added the names of battles in which they had participated onto the regimental flags. (The book has an illustration of the 13^th Illinois Infantry’s regimental flag showing the names of various battles appearing on the stripes.)

When a regiment was in motion or maneuvering on a battlefield, the national and regimental colors would be in front with the rest of the regiment following. During the din and chaos of a battle, the national colors and regimental flags represented a rallying point. In the following letter, the regiment was responding to a raid by Confederate general Nathan Bedford Forrest’s two thousand troops.

headquarters of the 137th Illinois Infantry, Memphis, Tennessee, August 24, 1864, to soldier’s father, R W Scanland Esqr

Dear Sir It became my painful duty to announce to you the death of your dear little Soldier Boy Henry J Scanland he fell near my Side and immediatly under the Old Flag early in the engagement with the Enemy on the morning of the 21st Inst at our camp. . . . when he fell he was Standing at my Side. he was cool and Brave and one among the first in his company to rally that morning to beat back the murdering demons that came yelling and rushing upon us from more than one direction

—Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Roach, 137th Infantry, McDonough County

———————————————————————————————————————

Combat at night (added 13 March 2020)

Did Civil War soldiers fight at night?

As a rule, Civil War combatants did not fight in the dark. Here is an incident that reflected the typical cessation of fighting after nightfall.

Bridgeport, Alabama, December 22, 1863, to parents of Private George Clark

[after the Battle of Missionary Ridge, near Chattanooga, Tennessee] . . . George, your son fell mortally wounded . . . I was not permitted to take him off of the field to bury his remains, for the battle was rageing and becomeing quite desperate . . . in which we lost a number of brave men The battle lasted seven hours, and night comeing on we retired back one mile for the night Our dead lay on the field untill the comeing day; [when] they were buried

—Private Victor Gould, 26th Infantry, Lawrence County

However, there were some notable exceptions to not fighting after dark. Among those are two instances involving the supply routes to the besieged Union-held city of Chattanooga in October 1863, after the Battle of Chickamauga. On October 27, Union General “Baldy” Smith executed his plan, starting at 3:00am, to float flatboats down and across the Tennessee River to gain a foothold on the Confederate side of Brown’s Ferry. The small Confederate force was taken by surprise and a critical part of the “Cracker Line” was pried open. The Battle of Wauhatchie (28-29 October) was an attempt by Confederate General James Longstreet to check the advance of Union General Joseph Hooker’s troops toward establishing a shorter line of supply from the west to Chattanooga. After some blind firing by both sides after midnight (with some Union positions partially illuminated by the firing of their own batteries), the attacking Confederate forces retreated before daylight.

It should also be noted that Union General Grant sent gunboats and supply ships past the formidable cannons at Vicksburg during the nights of April 16 and 22, 1863. He then was able to have troops ferried across the Mississippi River south of Vicksburg in late April and early May, which led to the city’s subsequent besiegement and ultimate surrender on 4 July.

The larger the forces fighting at night, the larger the problems of recognizing friends from foes (which, on occasion, was an issue during daylight engagements). However, the cover of darkness often was used to maneuver troops into position before an anticipated battle the next day.

Joliet, Illinois, October 12, 1862

Dear Brother I arrived in Joliet again on last evening safe & sound after quite tramp through the mountains of Virginia via Harpers Ferry . . . they [ Confederate forces ] during the night placed their Batteries in such a position that it was no use to hold out any longer and the place was surrendered at 9 Oclock. . . . we were Paroled on the ground on condition that we would not take up arms again until regularly exchanged.

—Private Albert Higinbotham, 65th Infantry, Will County

Camp near Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, April 13, 1862, to wife, Hattie

[regarding the Battle of Shiloh] Sunday was a most beautiful day, yet we woke up that morning to the roar of cannon & the fierce rush of thousands of the rebels as they came charging through our lines & into our very camp on the right. . . . we were obliged to fall back to save ourselves from being taken prisoners, & thus the fight continued all day long until we were driven to the [Tennessee] river, where just before dusk the cannonading grew terrible indeed But Night now came on & with it came [General Don Carlos] Buells forces [Army of the Ohio] from over the river to our rescue, & then, save the continual boom, boom, from our gun boats [the timberclads Lexington and Tyler] each army was still. . . . the 2d days (Mondays) fight which commenced at day break & lasted with one continual stunning roar until 4 P.M. when the whole rebel line gave way & fled & then the victory was ours. But it was most dearly bought as our loss is very great.

—1st Sergeant Z. Payson Shumway, 14th Infantry, Christian County

Besides Buell’s army crossing the Tennessee River at night, also note that the gunboats Lexington and Tyler annoyingly lobbed shells into the otherwise sleeping Confederate forces and their positions south of Pittsburg Landing.

The night hours also were used to carry out small-scale guerrilla warfare.

Helena, Arkansas, September 27, 1862, to sister

We have not been in a battle yet, but we have done Some bushwhacking with the guerrillas, and are now doing a good deal of picket guard duty. that is the most dangerous duty that the soldier has there is hardly a night but some of them are fired on.

—Sergeant Henry Newhall, 4th Iowa Cavalry, Adams County, Illinois

Camp Steele, Mississippi, December 3, 1862, to mother

There is nothing new here concerning God and the world. At the most in the night a few shots from the pickets, sometimes at a secesh who ventures too near, but mostly only at a bush or trees moving in the wind or only a few old leaves rustling a little; or anything that appears like a man to whoever is standing guard.

—2nd Lieutenant Henry Kircher, 12th Missouri (Union) Infantry, St. Clair County

———————————————————————————————————————

Civil War baseball (added 6 March 2020)

Baseball was played by local clubs, especially in the northern states before the Civil War. Did Illinois soldiers play baseball?

There are two instances among the letters and diaries I have read by Illinois soldiers.

Private Thomas S. Clingman was at Camp Butler for several months while additional companies were being formed to what became the 46^th Illinois Infantry regiment. While at the original Clear Lake Camp Butler location, he made the following entry in his diary.

Wed. Oct. 16^th [1861]

Rec. a letter from George [older brother] and from O. R. Gorham. Also a New York Tribune. Had a letter from father in the evening. Played ball for the first time since I was in camp. Wrote to Eliza [Ann Eliza, sister].

Private Clingman’s diary contained no further baseball entries. However, it may not have been an uncommon occurrence and not worth further denoting in his diary. Somewhat in contrast, Corporal James G. Crawford described some of his regiment’s Christmas Day activities.

Camp Bledshaw near Gallatin, Tennessee, December 25, 1862, to parents

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Note that both of these incidents were in the first half of the Civil War. I would suggest that sports and such became less commonly played as the war dragged on.

Speaking of Camp Butler, a tip of the ballcap to Kathy Heyworth who called my attention to the following.

“Mch 14th. [1863] The Rebels have at last found something to employ both mind and body; as the parade ground has dried up considerably in the past few days; TOWN BALL is in full blast, and it is a blessing for the men.” [from Fourteen Hundred and 91 Days in the Confederate Army, a journal kept by W. W. Heartsill, edited by Bell Irvin Wiley, 1954.]

This is in reference to Confederate prisoners of war playing baseball about where the current Camp Butler National Cemetery is located. And along those lines, below is the well-known lithograph showing Union prisoners of war in 1862 playing baseball at Salisbury Prison in North Carolina.

Artist: Otto Botticher or Boetticher, Lithographic firm: Sarony, Major, & Knapp, Publisher: Goupil & Co., date drawn: mid 1862, published date: 1863, catalog no.: 60.3741 (See https://americanhistory.si.edu/blog/2012/08/civil-war-baseball.html )

———————————————————————————————————————

Change in tone of letters (added 28 February 2020)

At a recent presentation, an audience member asked, was there a change in the tone or content of letters through the course of the Civil War?

Generally, early soldiers’ enthusiasm was replaced by the realities of warfare.

Camp McClernand, near Cairo, Illinois, October 19, 1861, to friend, Miss Almeda Frazee

we air All mery and Reddy for a fight

—Corporal James H. Miller, 31st Infantry, Tazewell County

Often a single pitched battle erased soldiers’ previous bravado and thoughts that the war would be short or soon settled. In time, soldiers realized that their military lives were both wearisome and seemingly expendable.

Tallahatchie, Mississippi, January 2, 1863, to mother

our Captain made a bet with an officer of one hundred dollars that we would go home before the Fourth of July next but I hope so as we are getting tired of war

—Private Cyrus Randall, 124th Infantry, Kane County

Columbus, Kentucky, November 3, 1862, to wife, Anna

we are like the waves of the sea driven by the wind not knowing when or where we are to go. or how long we are to stay it is a dogs life without much prospects of its ending very soon . . . pray for your unworthy Husband

—Private Thomas Seacord, 72nd Infantry, Kane County

Another way Illinois soldiers’ letters changed in tone was when something – a military routine, combat, visiting Southern states – was no longer a novelty. For example, many soldiers wrote about guard and picket duties when those were being learned or were relatively new activities. Later on, such duties might only be mentioned in letters when something unusual occurred.

Harrison’s Landing, Virginia, July 16, 1862, to friend, Miss Lovina Eyster

you have probably heard before this Henry Allens misfortunes he shot his fore finger off axidentally one morning while we were getting ready to go out on Picket

—Private Reuben Prentice, 8th Cavalry, Ogle County

Without a doubt, most soldiers’ lives and perspectives were transformed by the war. As the Civil War gradually transitioned to a more “hard war” – meaning war carried out systematically on many levels, such as against civilian properties that could support war efforts, institutions (e.g., slavery), and international supplies (e.g., coastal blockade) – Illinois soldiers’ attitudes changed with it.

Big Black River, Mississippi, March 9, 1864, to brother

[in Mississippi ] we burnt up 22 Locomotives lots of cars and Gov Property Rebel Property we played Smash with there railroad tore up about 150 miles Burnt all the bridges an[d] Culbrits [culverts?] we had to live off the Country I bet you the Citizens wont care much about seeing us again soon The Citizens all say they want peace I should not wonder.

—Private Alfred McNair, 32nd Infantry, Wabash County

———————————————————————————————————————

Uniqueness of Illinois soldiers (added 21 February 2020)

William S. asked, is there anything that you feel is unique about the soldiers from Illinois?

Five things come to mind.

Illinois had the highest per capita rate of Civil War soldiers among all the Union states. I addressed this statistic in an earlier Question of the Week response (Oct. 2019). Illinois also made minimal use of the draft, meaning volunteers alone mostly met the state’s recruitment quotas.
In 1860, Illinois was becoming a nationally prominent state: it had the fourth largest population, Chicago was a rapidly growing city, and Illinois had an important and growing network of railroad and river transportation. This last item proved important during the war. In April and May of 1861, it could be argued that the two most strategic points in the Union were Washington D.C. and Cairo, Illinois. Less than a week after the fall of Fort Sumter, hastily-organized Illinois soldiers were sent to defend Cairo from possible Confederate incursions. Those soldiers mainly came by train, as Cairo was the southern terminus of the Illinois Central railroad. Cairo was at the convergence of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers and, once substantial artillery pieces were planted there, Union forces began stopping and inspecting steamboats headed south for possible war materiel that could aid the Confederates.
Illinois’s official state motto – “State Sovereignty, National Union” – partially reflected Illinois’s southern roots and population around 1818. At the time of the Civil War, politically Illinois was about half Republican and half Democratic, rendering it a sort of microcosm of the nation. Its soldiers came from and represented that political mix.
Illinois became known as the “Land of Lincoln” – as the slogan goes – yet one of Lincoln’s 1860 presidential election opponents was Democrat Stephen Douglas, also from Illinois. Perhaps having the president from one’s home state gave an extra dose of zeal to those answering the President’s call for soldiers to fight for the Union.
It often is argued that the Civil War was won primarily in the western theater, which is where most of the Illinois regiments were deployed. As the war went on, there was evidence of a certain pride among the western soldiers, and those from Illinois included, in contributing to winning the war. As one soldier put it . . .

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, September 27, 1862, to brother, James

Senator trumbul [U.S. senator Lyman Trumbull of Illinois] was . . . here the other day and made a speech to the boys. . . . trumbul said that McClellands army had done nothing of any account yet the fiting had been done by the western troops so far which was received with shouts.

—Private Cyrus Randall, 124th Infantry, Kane County

All of these points stated, in many, if not most ways, Illinois’s soldiers and sailors were similar to those from other states. They were equipped similarly, fought in armies with soldiers and regiments from other Union states, formed similar soldierly bonds as those across the armies, heard the same war news, and so on. In short, much can be learned about Civil War soldiers by studying the letters of those from Illinois.

———————————————————————————————————————

Censored personal letters (added 14 February 2020)

William S. asked, were soldiers’ letters inspected by military officials before being sent, out of a concern of giving away army intelligence?

The short answer is that Civil War letters were not subject to censorship. One notable exception was letters sent by prisoners of war, which additionally were limited in length. Although hardly censorship, in April 1863 General Joseph Hooker had the Army of the Potomac’s mail held up by the postmaster for a day, which was at the start of the campaign that culminated in the Battle of Chancellorsville. Otherwise, mail went back and forth through the Northern civilian-manned postal system as much as the waging of war would allow. For example, during General William T. Sherman’s Georgia campaign from Atlanta to Charleston no mail was sent or received. During that few-month period, there simply was no Union line of supply where mail could be transmitted to the northern states. Instead, soldiers’ letters were posted with the military before leaving Atlanta, or after reaching Charleston, where Union ships could be reached for delivering the mail.

As for leaking important information through the mail, three reasons come to mind why it would be a waste of effort to glean soldiers’ letters to find timely army intelligence. First, the Union military handled tens of thousands of soldiers’ letters, daily. It would take a separate huge army to do the Herculean task of perusing all the military-related mail, either to censor or intercept information. Second, most soldiers knew little about military movements and plans. When Confederates intercepted Union mail, it is much more likely they would open it in search of money rather than military intelligence. Plus, soldiers did write in their letters about forthcoming army assignments and movements but, in hindsight, often were speculative or simply wrong. Finally, perhaps the best way during the Civil War to efficiently gather major military information was to read the newspapers, which both sides did. It also was standard for each side to capture enemy soldiers and directly ask them, often successfully, about which armies and commanders were in their immediate fronts.

———————————————————————————————————————

Number of quotations (added 7 February 2020)

While the book features 165 Illinois soldiers, how many quotations are there in total?

For the 165 soldiers and sailors, a few of their collections have a hundred or more letters and a few others simply have one letter. By far, most of the letter collections number something in between those extremes. I do not think that the larger collections got more representation in the book than lesser ones. That stated, some soldiers are represented in the book by a single quotation. Sometimes that was because they had little to say about their military experiences and the world around them, and sometimes it was because other letter writers expressed these things better. I should note there were many Illinois soldiers’ personal letter collections I have read that are not represented in the book, and thus those soldiers are not among the 165.

I had not done this tally until this week, so here are the results.

Total number of Illinois soldier and sailor quotations in the book = 533

Shortest quotation = 3 words (“write a heap” found on page 13)

Longest quotation = 1,135 words (page 119-22)

———————————————————————————————————————

Equipment soldiers carried (added 31 January 2020)

What equipment did enlisted soldiers typically have on a march?

Generally, enlisted Illinois soldiers carried their weapons (e.g., rifle and bayonet) and ammunition (usually in a cartridge box), clothing, perhaps some rations or food in a haversack, a canteen, mess items, a blanket, shelter or part of a tent (especially later in the war), and personal items. Here are a few quotations from enlisted soldiers about the equipment they carried.

written during Sherman’s “March to the Sea” between Atlanta and Savannah, Georgia, around mid-December, 1864

we have had ahard hard trip but i have stood it firstrate and am as well as ievr [I ever] was in my life i just got yore letter you may no i was tired some nights fur my knapsack haversack canteen cartridge box and gun weighed seventy one pounds ihad five shirts one pair of pants three pair of drawers three pair of socks and one tent and too verry heavy blankets and five days rations in my haver sack and eighty rounds of cartridges in my cartridge box

—Corporal Charles Sanders, 101st Infantry, Morgan County [from page 58-9 of the book]

This famous march from Atlanta to Savannah, Georgia, featured no Union line of supply. Soldiers foraged as then went and, in Corporal Sanders’ case, took extra clothes and ammunition.

five miles from Louisville, Kentucky, September 6, 1862, to friend, Lizzie Wilson

I will now give you a discription of the load we had to pack those ten miles Cartridge Box, Cap box & bayonet scabard, then our Canteens full of water, our Haversacks with three days rations, then our Knapsacks and last but not least was our guns you see that is quite a load for one not used to such things

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

Corporal Crawford later was captured (and subsequently paroled) by the Confederates near the Tennessee/Georgia state line. In the following, he mentioned a few additional items coveted by his captors.

Camp Parole, near Annapolis, Maryland, May 18, 1863, to friend, Lizzie Wilson

I have been in two or three fights and taken prisoner by Brig Gen Forest about 3 miles from the Ga line. . . . they took us to Rome. there they took our blankets Canteens Haversacks oil clothes pocket knives watches Cups and overcoats leaving us nothing to protect us from the Cold.

—Corporal James Crawford [from page 191]

Finally, a mounted officer described what was carried into battle and lost to the enemy.

Camp McClernand, Cairo, Illinois, November 10, 1861, to wife, Diza

[at the Battle of Belmont, Missouri] the [Confederate] Batteries began to play on our men, when they in turn began to retreat which at first was slow in order, but became more and more uncontroleable, until, all was in a mass of confusion. artilery, Cavalry – Infantry – Linesman and all were in a state of confusion mixed and intermixed droping guns, coats, blankets, canteens Havere sacks on their flight.- John^s Regiment took from here every man (700.) a coat Blanket and other equipments, and not more than about 50 brought any back, they captured our amunition and provisions besides . . . [at the shoreline of the Mississippi River] I left my horse and took to my heels, and got aboard by this time the fires was general from the Boats and the Bank, and the gun boats was all that Saved us from being shot like hogs. I lost my 4 Blankets my shawl, over coat and vest, Saddle and Bridle

—Quartermaster Lindorf Ozburn, 31st Infantry, Jackson County

Of course, leave it to a quartermaster to lament about lost equipage.

———————————————————————————————————————

Unexpected information from soldiers (added 21 January 2020)

Reader Susan B. asked did I find among the soldiers’ letters anything I was not expecting?

Regarding my expectations in what I found is difficult for me to answer, because I had almost no expectations as I perused and transcribed Illinois soldiers’ letter collections. Here is how I explained it on “The Seven Secrets of the Book” page of this very website.

“In starting down the path that resulted in this book, I simply began reading Illinois soldiers’ personal letters and transcribed portions that described something of the period . . . Over time, topics began to emerge, which coalesced into sections, and sections into chapters. Essentially, the Illinois soldiers wrote the book’s content and my role was to pull them together and provide Civil War context for the topics, sections, and chapters . . . I essentially started with myself as a tabula rasa and thus entered the project with few biases or expectations. The approach is similar to a cultural anthropologist doing an ethnography in a foreign land. If indeed ’history is a foreign country,’ then I was close to taking that literally.”

Thinking more carefully, I suppose I was pleasantly surprised to find a collection of letters with one that described three enlisted soldiers visiting Lincoln’s Springfield home a few weeks after the President had been buried, in May 1865. I used that as an inclusion in the last chapter of the book. More generally, I often say “you do not know what is waiting to be found in soldiers’ letters until you look.”

———————————————————————————————————————

Inspiring quotations from soldiers (added 17 January 2020)

Cris A. and others have asked did I find one or more letter writers particularly inspiring?

This is almost a question I would prefer not to answer, it being slightly akin to who is a favorite student in a class one is teaching. However, because I am frequently asked, here is the answer I am consistently giving. (Otherwise, I would answer all of them are inspiring, albeit in different ways.)

Thinking back, I suppose there were two Illinois soldiers whose writing eloquence especially appealed to me. One was Captain/Major D. Woodman Norton, who was trying mightily to impress a female correspondent, and Corporal/Sergeant William A. Smith, who faithfully wrote to his spouse on a wide variety of topics. Regarding the latter, Mary Smith asked her husband, while he was part of a campaign in Alabama in 1862, “how does slavery look to the naked eye?” Like the majority of the Illinois soldiers, Smith previously had never set foot in the South. Yet his honest, expressive, and insightful reply about slavery showed he had carefully pondered his answer. Norton’s letters, on the other hand, had interesting anecdotes and unique perspectives. And his descriptions of the battles of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge are moving, in an old-school military way. Both Norton and Smith did not survive the Civil War.

———————————————————————————————————————

Illinois regiments cited (added 10 January 2020)

Interested readers Bill L. and others have asked does the book contain a list of Illinois soldiers by regiment?

There are two ways soldiers’ names and their regiment affiliations can be found in the book, besides viewing that very information at the bottom of each quotation throughout the book. The first way is Appendix A, which contains a brief biography for each of the 165 Illinois soldiers quoted in the book. In many cases, the bios also mention other regiments in which an Illinois soldier had served (even if not quoted as a member of another regiment). The second way is perhaps the best summary. Any regiment mentioned for whatever reason in the book appears in the index. I realized when I was constructing the book that some readers would use it as a reference guide. Therefore, the index is as thorough and as detailed as a topnotch index contractor could possibly do. So, for example, if you are interested in a particular Illinois infantry regiment’s citation(s) in the book, simply look in the index under Illinois Infantry, and then search for the numbered regiment under that. From there, one could go to each cited page to see the content and context for the regiment of interest.

In addition, Appendix C – Quoted Soldiers, by County of Origin – is an alphabetical listing of Illinois counties from which at least one of the 165 soldiers originated, along with their names under each county.

———————————————————————————————————————

Union postage Stamps (added 3 January 2020)

In researching the book, which postage stamps did you see on Illinois soldiers’ letter envelopes?

Regarding the letters I read, in most cases the letter envelopes were not part of the collection. And when the envelopes were present, the stamps often were missing and apparently snipped out (although sometimes portions of the cancellation marks remained).

However, in some rare cases, the original letter envelopes had postage stamps still affixed. I recall seeing two types of Union postage stamps: a three cents George Washington with his head in profile facing left, and a one cent Benjamin Franklin similarly in profile but facing right. The Washington stamp was printed with red/orange ink, with his head in a rectangular frame. In the upper corners of the frame was the number “3,” in the lower left a “U,” and in the lower right an “S.” The Franklin stamp used a blue/gray ink and his head was in an oval frame. In the corners of the stamp, just outside of the oval, was the number “1” in each upper corner of the stamp and similarly “U” and “S” in the lower corners. In my limited experience, I predominately observed the single three cents Washington stamp and, more rarely, a set of three Franklin one cent stamps. I should also note that I sometimes saw an Illinois soldier’s letter envelope with the words “Soldier’s Letter” in lieu of postage, in which case the recipient was obliged to pay the postage (three cents for the first half ounce).

An online PDF shows the range of postage stamps used by the Union during the Civil War, here:

http://www.stampinsider.org/other_pages/presentations/swain%20civil%20war/Postal%20Systems%20React%20to%20the%20American%20Civil%20War.pdf

———————————————————————————————————————

Pensions for Union soldiers (added 27 December 2019)

Reader Dan B. wrote “While reading the biographies, I noted several times where soldiers started receiving pensions many years–perhaps 10 to 15?—after the war was over. Do you know why they just weren’t available sooner? Was it due to “red tape”, or perhaps the soldiers didn’t know they were available, or perhaps pensions weren’t actually enacted or approved for veterans until that time?”

From President Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address: “With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan—to do all which may achieve and cherish a just, and a lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.”[1] [italics added]

Even before President Lincoln made this statement about tending to those soldiers and families physically impacted by the war, a related federal pension plan had been started in 1862. Generally, in the years following the Civil War, veterans’ pension benefits increased, coverage became more inclusive, and otherwise the federal program improved. In 1879, the Arrears Act provided “that all pensions on account of death, or wounds received, or disease contracted in the service of the United States during the late war of the rebellion, which have been granted, or which shall hereafter be granted, shall commence from the date of death or discharge from the service of the United States.”[2] Superseding previous laws, its impact was an increase in the number of Civil War pensioners. The timing of it somewhat corresponds to Dan B.’s statement about Illinois soldiers applying and receiving pensions after the war.

Civil War pension laws were still being added and/or modified into the early twentieth century. Note that these laws applied to federal soldiers, whereas soldiers from Confederate states were dependent on whatever those individual states could provide. A concise essay on Civil War-related pensions can be found at the following link:

https://www.essentialcivilwarcurriculum.com/civil-war-pensions.html

[1] “Second Inaugural Address,” March 4, 1865. Roy P. Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953–55), 8:333.

[2] U.S. Forty-Fifth Congress, Session III, Ch. 23., An Act for Payment of Arrears of Pensions, 265.

———————————————————————————————————————

Median age of Union soldiers (added 20 December 2019)

On page 72, you state that “the majority of the enlisted Union soldiers in the Civil War were less than twenty-four years of age.” How did you come up with that figure?

The number is based on age data from Benjamin Apthorp Gould’s book, Investigations in the Military and Anthropological Statistics of American Soldiers (New York: Hurd and Houghton, 1869), 34, where he has over one million Union soldiers’ ages grouped by single years. Here are the values for the youngest years:

Age Number

13 127

14 330

15 773

16 2,758

17 6,425

18 133,475

19 90,215

20 71,058

The youngest teens likely represent drummer boys and similar non-combatants. Also note the spike (or “heaping”) for age 18, likely the result of enlistees fudging their age upward to meet the minimum of 18 to be a soldier.

Using the entire array of Gould’s published age data, I calculated the median age or 50^th percentile for soldiers’ ages.[1] That is, a soldier’s age at the 50^th percentile means half of all the other soldiers’ ages are younger than him and half are older than him. My calculation came out to roughly 23.75 years for the median age. For mean age, I calculated 25.35 years. Both of these statistics are based on whole year age data (as opposed to having and using finer age increments, such as months or days), yet they represent reasonable approximations of median and mean ages.

[1] Note that median age is a different statistic from average age. Average or mean age can be skewed by “age heaping” and other data distribution factors. For example, for a sample of three soldiers with ages 18, 23, and 40 years, the median age is 23, while the mean or average age is 27. These two statistics represent different concepts regarding the data.

———————————————————————————————————————

Decline of Camp Yates (added 13 December 2019)

The following quotation appears on page 94 of the book.

Camp Yates, Springfield, Illinois, May 1, 1864, to father, Joseph E. Clarke

in Camp . . . the guard House is full of Copperheads that was taken at Charleston Coles County they are doomed to be executed as A warning to other Copperheads to show them how weak and foolish it is to try to resist the Goverment.

—Private William Clarke, 8th Cavalry, Pike County

Referring to this quotation, reader Bob C. states “I thought Camp Yates went kaput after the establishment of Camp Butler in 1861. Please explain.”

Some of the previous portion of Clarke’s letter, omitted from the book, described the declining condition of Springfield’s then-near-west-side Camp Yates.

Camp Yates, Springfield, Illinois, May 1, 1864, to father, Joseph E. Clarke

I am well at present in every respect my leg feels as well as it ever did. . . . I get all I can eat of prety good grub we have A decent table to eat of[f] of and decent grub to eat of it we have plenty beef boild and fried we have potatoes and warm bread. tea and Coffee and sugar and vegtable soup and Chairs to sit on while we eat we have allso good beds to sleep on in the Hospital. there is no ketchin desease here except the Mumps and Irresiples and Measles there has two died here since I come here . . . there is but one guard in camp and he is at the gate most all the fence around camp has bin tore down by the 8^th Cavelry but all the Troops have left here except the Convalescents and A few sick the sutler is broke up and gone. . . . the Barricks are deserted and so is the Hospital that I was in before there is not one Corperal to be found in Camp the only places that is inhabited is the Hospital the Cook house Doctors office and the guard House the guard House is full of Copperheads that was taken at Charleston Coles County they are doomed to be executed as A warning to other Copperheads to show them how weak and foolish it is to try to resist the Goverment.

—Private William Clarke, 8th Cavalry, Pike County

[N.B. the full transcription of Clarke’s letter has been added to the “Addenda and Amplifications” webpage]

Clarke’s description is one of decrepitude compared to its former beginnings. For whatever reasons, he apparently was convalescing there, although he does mention his regiment had “tore down” most of the camp’s (perimeter?) fencing.

Here is a rather different camp vibrancy described from the first months of the war.

Camp Yates, Springfield, Illinois, June 21, 1861, to brother

I will now proceed to tell you something about the camp life. we are now pinned down pritty strict orders, orders quite difrent from that what we had at Camp Grant. Since we have been in camp here, there has been one man shot & one man gagged for disobeying orders evry man has to be out in uniform on duty or dress paraid, or he has to go to the gard house. we have all got our uniform & our months wages. . . . Excuse bad writing for I only had 5 minutes to write this letter for we have to drill 6 ours in the day my love to you all

—Private George Dodd, 21st Infantry, Edgar County

Camp Yates was a victim of consolidation, as I explained in a recent article.

“After the fall of Fort Sumter, it was the army’s goal to convert the early, enthusiastic throngs of Illinois enlistees from mob-like to military might. There were roughly forty mustering camps that had sprung up at fairgrounds and other expeditious sites throughout Illinois, where soldiers were concentrated (i.e., formed into companies and regiments) and trained. As military arms and equipment became better organized and available by the end of 1861, the Illinois mustering sites were largely consolidated into Camp Douglas, on the then-southern edge of Chicago, and Camp Butler, east of Springfield at Clear Lake. (Much smaller mustering camps remained and were periodically used at Springfield’s Camp Yates, Cairo, and Quincy.) Camp Douglas became Illinois’s largest Civil War military camp, where sixteen regiments of infantry and cavalry were mustered and 40,000 soldiers were trained and outfitted. Camp Butler, ultimately mustered in forty-eight infantry and cavalry regiments, and was Illinois’s second largest camp.”[1]

Camp Yates was one of the few original Illinois mustering camps that had some sort of extended existence, perhaps because of its hospital. And maybe it was a matter of convenience, being there in the capital city. Camp Butler had become the prominent central Illinois military camp, partially because it was several miles from the capital city. Camp Butler’s more rural location discouraged recruits from slipping out of camp to carouse or plunder local residents’ food resources (e.g., fruit trees, chickens).

A nice, concise description of Camp Yates can be found here:

https://sangamoncountyhistory.org/wp/?p=2507

[1] Mark Flotow, “The Creations of Civil War Camps Douglas, Butler, and Defiance (1861-1862),” Illinois Heritage magazine, Sept-Oct 2018, p.37.

———————————————————————————————————————

Guard and picket duties (added 9 December 2019)

What was the difference between guard duty and picket duty? (Part 2)

The purpose of posting pickets was mainly to serve as the outlying eyes and ears of a regiment or army, often toward the directions of any possible enemy. Their duty was to either stop or oppose enemy soldiers (if few in number), or report back to their commanders the movements of large numbers of the enemy. Regarding the latter situation, this was so their regiment or army would not be subjected to a surprise attack.

Camp Champion near Newport, Kentucky, October 19, 1862, to sister

We had some fun in camp the Thursday night about 11 Oclock. Several shots were fired by our pickets, from one of the batteries in our front, and there drum beat “to arms”. Immediately our Sentries gave the alarm the long roll was beat, and the Regiment turned out in double quick. The sight if any one could have looked on cooly, would have been laughable in the extreme. to witness the frantic efforts the men made to place themselves inside of the first suit of clothes, & accoutrements they could get hold of and to see the riggs in which some of them got out but as each one was in as bad a plight as his neighbor there was no laughing done till after they came back. As a specimen of the way in which some of them came out John has on George Dodge,s pants & Wm Bonners coat while the exchanges among bayonets hats &c was without number. As there was nothing serious the matter the Regiment was in bed again in less than an hour. So ended our first alarm. we learned one lesson by it viz to leave our things so as to lay our hands on them at once, at any hour of the night.

—Corporal James M. Taylor, 96th Infantry, Lake County

Three Illinois soldiers explain the basics of picket duty.

Cape Girardeau, Missouri, Illinois, February 17, 1862, to wife, Mary

may be you would like to know how we manage on picket Guard. Well I will tell you in the morning the Orderly Sergeant details a certain number of men and one, two, three or four non, Commissioned officers generally one Sergeant and one Corporal to take charge of them. they report themselves at Headquarters and receive their orders our orders yesturday was to go to the outside station (3 miles from town) and stop and keep two men out upon the road all the time they shall ride at least One and half miles from the station and arrest any person they see with a gun or any one that acts suspiciously, and allow no shooting unless attacted

—Corporal William A. Smith, 7th Cavalry, Marion County

Stewarts Creek, Tennessee, June 22, 1863, to father and mother

Those fellows [on picket], out in front, . . . are relieved every two hours, each one by a man from his reserve. The reserves – or rather those really, on duty go out in the morning from their regiments and remain until the following morning – 24 hours. Then others go out from the Regiments and they are all relieved. Now I presume you have an idea of what “picketing” is.

—Sergeant Major Stephen Fleharty, 102nd Infantry, Mercer County

Paducah, Kentucky, September 15, 1861, to brother and sister

we have a good deal of duty to perform now they detail 15 to 20 men each day from every Comy [company] to stand Camp gaurd and 10 men every day to stand Picket Gaurd and 5 men every night, from each Compy to go skouting and they have to take one days rations for they are expected to go out to night and come back to morrow night

He wrote again to them on December 14, 1861, also from Paducah . . .

we had snow and very Cold weather about a week ago and then we suffered when we was on Picket Gaurd 4 miles from Camp and 24 hours at a time without being releived and no fire allowd at night to keep your-selfs warm but lay down side of a tree untill day light. I can tell you there is no fun soldiering in Cold weather there was lot of the boys got frost bitten and feet frozen

—Private Thomas Barnett, 9th Infantry, Madison County

Soldiers wrote about picket duty partially because it was both dangerous and tedious.

Camp Lyon, Bird’s Point, Missouri, February 3, 1862, to wife

Our guns were distributed to us this evening, and the boys keep up a tremendous racket, “ordering arms.” . . . We found about 100 rounds of Cartridges in a room and now prepared to serve up Secesh at short notice. I shouldn’t wonder if we get a pop at them before long as the[y] are shooting our picket guard every few nights The other night four Cavalry men were shot dead about three miles from Camp. Col. Payne sent out about 100 cavalry, and arrested every man within 6 miles of Camp. There is about 30 Secesh prisoners here now. Col. Bird and his two sons are here under guard. It looks pretty hard when a man has his fields converted into a Camp and then furnish the whole institution in wood. There are about 4,000 troops here

—1st Sergeant Daniel Messick, 32nd Infantry, Macoupin County

Camp Steele, Mississippi, December 6, 1862, to mother

on detail as commander of the pickets. Actually that is the duty of the captain, but he thought I could carry that out as well as any captain, and which I have now survived. Still, it is very taxing to be on one’s guard all night and day, to reconnoiter the immediate surroundings, to think out a little plan of how to welcome the enemy most effectively if he should knock on the door, etc., and all kinds of other little attentions to this one or that one. In no case can anybody sleep, for if anybody should not conduct himself as an officer on the picket watch they will take care of him. This way no surprises will occur, a la Prentiss at Corinth, etc.

—2nd Lieutenant Henry Kircher, 12th Missouri (Union) Infantry, St. Clair County

Black River Bridge, Mississippi, November 16, 1863, to “Dear Brother & Friends all”

all is quiet on Black River The rebels are still lurking around occasionally taking off one of our Pickets. Our men occasionaly go out across Black River reconnoiteri[n]g and some times take a few prisoners. deserters come in once in awhile and tell some doleful stories, about the rebel army. Hunger & privation forces the secesh ladies to come over and beg for bread & meat of the Yankees.

—Private William Dillon, 40th Infantry, Marion County

It may seem ironic, but it was usually safer for pickets on duty when opposing armies were positioned relatively close to each other. Two Illinois soldiers explain the “rules” when opposing pickets were in close proximity to one another.

Lookout Valley, Tennessee, November 16, 1863, to friend, Lizzy Wilson

Our pickets stand about 50 yards from the rebel pickets. They come over and talk to our Pickets, and then go back to their post. one of our co went over the lines yesterday and traded with them, and then came back all right 43 c amp Life It no doubt seems strange to you that we should be so friendly at this time, and mabe tommorrow we will go out to shoot each other, but Never-the-less such is the case. such is the effect,s of war.

—Corporal James Crawford, 80th Infantry, Randolph County

[However, see p. 44 of the book to find out what happened shortly after Corporal Crawford wrote the above.]

Chattanooga, Tennessee, October 4, 1863, to uncle, Gilbert Durin

our pickets and the Rebels are within 30 rods of one another they exchange [news]papers about evry day.

—Private Densla Holton, 89th Infantry, Lee County

Of course, fraternizing with the enemy was not allowed . . . but trading among opposing pickets was almost commonplace. In fact, opposing pickets waving a newspaper was a universal signal for a parley, and newspapers were frequent trade items.[1]

[Nota bene: The word “picket” has nothing whatsoever to do with the famous “Pickett’s Charge” at the Battle of Gettysburg. General George Pickett was one of the Confederate commanders assigned to assault the Union position on the third day of the battle.]

[1] “Another order, the violation of which was punishable with death, was against holding any communication with the enemy on the picket line. But the eagerness to exchange newspapers was so great on both sides that this order was often violated. A stump about midway between the two lines was usually selected, and the picket officer on either side, first attracting the other’s attention by waving his paper in the air, advanced, laid it on the stump, and returned to his own lines. The other then advanced, took up the paper and left his own, which was again taken up by the first. Of course it was agreed that there should be no firing or no treachery on either side.” Royal B. Prescott, Lieutenant, “The Capture of Richmond,” in Civil War Papers: Read Before the Commandery of the State of Massachusetts, Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, Vol. 1 (Boston: F. H. Gilson Company, 1900), 60.

———————————————————————————————————————

Guard and picket duties (added 29 November 2019)

What was the difference between guard duty and picket duty? (Part 1)

It can be confusing, such as in the following example (from p. 44 of the book).

Helena, Arkansas, September 27, 1862, to sister

—Sergeant Henry Newhall, 4th Iowa Cavalry, from Adams County, Illinois

Sergeant Newhall was using the word “guard” generically as picket duty is, in a sense, guarding a regimental camp, for example, from enemy infiltrations. A basic difference between the two duties is the guard postings relative to the camp or army location. For guard duty, it is an immediate area and the guards prevent (or conditionally allow) persons from leaving or entering a camp perimeter, say. For picket duty, it is akin to a more permeable outer perimeter, which sometimes is miles from the camp or army position. Pickets are posted to prevent unauthorized persons from advancing on them and also to discourage any sizable enemy incursion or attack simply by having guards on watch.

It is somewhat more complicated than that, so I am giving the specifics of guard duty here (Part 1). I will do likewise for picket duty next time (Part 2).

Here are two guard duty examples given by cavalry soldiers at Camp Butler.

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, January 23, 1862, to sister, Ellen E. Hudson

my health for the most part of the time has been better since I enlisted than before and if it were not for the tiresome motony of camp life I would enjoy my self very well . . . it is Drill twice a day mount guard once in ten days but when we are detailed for guard we are on twenty four hours

—Private John Burke, 5th Cavalry, Randolph County

Camp Butler, near Springfield, Illinois, December 6, 1861, to wife, Mary

The guard is made up from every company, generally about six men or seven and one Supernumerary and one Corporal and sometimes a Sergeant the whole guard is 48 men 7 Corporals 2 Sergeants one Officer of the guard and one Officer of the day

the men are divided into three Reliefs and one Corporal has charge of each relief they are on duty two hours and off four the Sergeants are on six and off six the officer the guard tends to any matter that comes up that the Sergeants cann [missing edge of paper: “ot”?] settle the Officer of the day Signs passes and tends to the whole camp for the 24 hours that he is on then there is two corporals assigned to each gate and they can suit themselves about the length of time that each one will stand the best is three hours from 9 to 12 from 12 till 3 from three till six then from 6 till 9 then there is none till five in the morning then one goes on till 7 then from 7 till 9 there is two men at each gate with muskets and they stop all that pass till the Corporal looks at his pass and tells them to let him pass but after 9 Oclock P.M. the Corporal goes away and there is a Countersign given out and Wo[e] unto him that is out without it for not even a Captain can pass without it thus you can see the whole camp is turned into one Grand secret Society for it is considerable trouble to get the pass word

—Corporal William A. Smith, 7th Cavalry, Marion County

It was more than soldiers’ camps that needed guarding. Here are two other examples of guard duty, both from soldiers in the 10^th Illinois Infantry.

Mound City, Illinois, December 30, 1861, to brother, David

I will bet two days rations that the tenth regament does more guard duty than any regament in the Service – the regament reports five hundred able men for duty, and every day there is ninty men detailed for Guard. think of that will you? you see we have a large armory here and magazine that has to be guarded day and night.

—Private James Swales, 10th Infantry, Morgan County

Fort Negley, near Nashville, Tennessee, February 10, 1863, to uncle, W. C. Rice

The Sargeants have to go on guard once in sixteen days . . . Our guard duty is not hard either when we are on. Corporals go on every 12 days and privates every four. Captains and Lieutenants every four.

—Sergeant James Rice, 10th Infantry, Henderson County

Some positions and places, like a fort, were easier to guard than others. As a counter-example, early Camp Douglas did not initially have a stockade fence and instead guards were posted every so many feet around the perimeter of the camp. And in this case, it often was guarding to keep new recruits inside camp, as well as stopping outside persons from entering the camp.

Camp Douglas, near Chicago, Illinois, October 31, 1861, to friend, Elizabeth Ann Bate

money is verry slippry in such a place as this our second Lieutenant has got his Discharge from the Regiment for not conducting himself properly I expect that he will leave for home soon . . . ther[e] is plenty of Boys that has not had any money for 2 months and they say that when They get their money that they will have a spree [even] if they have to run the Guards to get out

—Private George W. Russell, 55th Infantry, Winnebago County

There also were provost guards, who served generally as military police.

Memphis, Tennessee, September 27, 1862, to brothers and sisters

Our Regiment this week is acting as Provost Guard in the City. A Regiment is detailed for a week at a time as Provost Guard I am now at the Military Prison Head Quarters acting as Clerk and Book Keeper for the Officers the Guard and Keepers of the Prison.

—Private William Dillon, 40th Infantry, Marion County

Alexandria, Virginia, February 1, 1862, to brother, Dan

There is some talk of Farnsworth being put in Provost Marshal of the City If he is we shall act as city guard. As it is we have a patrol in the streets only to look after our own men. There are great many Secessionists in the city; but they all keep quiet except the women; they sometimes give a little slang.

—Corporal John Sargent, 8th Cavalry, Winnebago County

[Nota bene: Part 2 will be posted on this page on 9 December.]

———————————————————————————————————————

Tattoo as part of camp routine (added 22 November 2019)

At a recent Civil War Round Table discussion, an audience member asked what is the meaning of “tattoo” as part of a Union camp routine?

In John D. Billings book Hard Tack and Coffee,^[1] “tattoo” is defined as the final roll-call of the day (from the chapter, “A Day in Camp”). More specifically, it was the bugle call that signaled for the soldiers to prepare for bed, which included assembly for the last roll-call of the day. Usually between the dismissal from “dress parade” and “tattoo,” most soldiers had free time in camp to, say, write letters or socialize. Tattoo was the bugle call that signaled for those activities to cease and that assembly was imminent. Tattoo might be played around 8:30 or 9:00 PM. Taps typically was played a half hour later, which signaled lights out, for talking and camp noise to cease, and for all soldiers to be in their quarters. The taps melody, developed during the Civil War, was a derivation of the one for tattoo.

It also could be played or sounded on the drum. For example, an Illinois soldier wrote on May 2, 1861 from Camp Union (later known as Camp Defiance), in Cairo, about the daily routine. “The reveille beats at five o’clock in the morning, when every man is compelled to rise, dress and wash himself, from which hour till seven o’clock, the time is occupied in preparing and eating breakfast. Then companies all assemble and the regular drill commences. Regimental parade occurs at six o’clock each evening. At nine o’clock the tattoo beats, when every man is required to be in camp at his regular quarters, and retire to bed.”^[2]

[1] John D. Billings, Hard Tack and Coffee, reprint of the 1887 edition, Collector’s Library of the Civil War (Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life Books, 1982), 193-6.

[2] Peoria Daily Transcript, May 4, 1861, (Vol 6, No. 108), “Camp Life at Cairo,” p. 1.

———————————————————————————————————————

Lincoln as Captain metaphor (added 15 November 2019)

On page 218 of the book, there is the following quotation and comment . . .

Cleveland, Tennessee, April 16, 1865, to father, Samuel Deamude

yesterday we received the laminitable nuse [ of Lincoln’s death ] which fild evry loyal heart with horror. . . . I thought it was a camp rhumer which we hear evry day. . . . the ship had sailed through the storm with a good captain Safe and now just as he was anchoring hur that he must be killed by a Northorn copperhead it is two much when the news come the flag was halled down from the capital house or the Generals H.d Quarters all Drill was stoped evry thing looked Sad to day our flag waves at half mast. . . . I hope that the death of our President will not prolong the war —Corporal Charles Deamude, 150th Infantry, Vermilion County

The images in Corporal Deamude’s letter, “the ship” (the Union) “sailed through the storm” (of the Civil War) “with a good captain” (President Lincoln) “Safe” and “anchoring” (in victory, secured), were common metaphors at the time. Walt Whitman used them most famously in his popular poem “O Captain! My Captain!” first published in the Saturday Press on November 4, 1865.

What is the evidence that Deamude (and Whitman) were referencing a “common metaphor”?

Here is the first verse of Whitman’s well-known poem . . .

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.^[1]

Whitman’s poem was first published in the New York newspaper The Saturday Press on November 4, 1865, which was months after the war. Subsequently, Whitman added this poem to his later editions of Leaves of Grass poetry anthology.^[2] Clearly the poem’s ship/captain/anchoring-safely-after-the-storm metaphor did not originate with Whitman, nor did it originate with Corporal Deamude of Vermilion County.

For example, in September 1863, a newspaper called the Vermont Record of Rutland County published an acrostic poem using the letters of “Abraham Lincoln” written by a local clergyman, H. Eastman.

A be, the Honest’s at helm, while the Old Ship of State,

B ravely breasts the rude storm with her all-precious freight;

R eeling, restless, and rocked on the rough rolling tide,

A s his wisdom directs, shall the tempest outride.

H o! the haven of rest is now heaving in view,

A nd a calm shall succeed where the winds fiercely blew.

M ay her canvas be swelled with the breath of our might,

L et her anchor be fast in the strength of the right;

I n the midst of the blast shall she gallantly ride,

N or be lost the rich lading whatever betide;

C atch the breezes of Freedom now blowing so strong,

O n the perilous deep of Oppression and Wrong: – –

L et the crew all be fearless, no wave shall o’erwhelm.

N ot so long as true Freedom and Abe are at helm.^[3]

The entire poem echoes the metaphor of President Lincoln as captain of the Ship of State. Another example is found in the “Resolutions of Wisconsin United Brethren in Christ regarding the State of the Country,” written 27 November 1863.

“1. Resolved, that we . . . earnestly play the L[or]d . . . grant him [Lincoln] . . . great wisdom to discern quickly and decide rightly and stand at the helm, to guide the ship of State safely through this violent storm, and return her safely to the quiet haven of universal freedom, and more than her former peace and prosperity.”^[4]

As another pre-assassination example, here are the quoted words of Abraham Lincoln, before he was president, in a letter from James F. Babcock written 22 February 1864. Babcock wrote to Lincoln . . .

“My dear Sir:

. . . I can never forget the impressive words you uttered to me when I told you in New Haven that you would in my opinion be our next President. Your answer was [quoting Lincoln]: “I do not envy the man who shall stand at the helm of this great Ship of State during the next four years.” These years have indeed been very troubulous times; but good God has spared you through all the dangers and vicis[s]itudes of the past; and may he keep you in safety to the end.”^[5]

James Babcock was the editor of the New Haven, Connecticut Palladium and had Lincoln as a guest in March 1860 when Lincoln was campaigning for the Republican presidential nomination in New England.^[6]

There also were post-assassination examples that would have predated the composition of Whitman’s poem. Here is just one example.

“AT A SPECIAL Meeting of the Colored People’s Union League Association, held April 17^th [1865] . . . Resolved, That in the fall of ABRAHAM LINCOLN this nation has experienced a loss of . . . a true friend, a Captain, who, with steady hand hath guided the Ship of State through the storm of this country’s Rebellion near the desired haven of Republican Liberty.”^[7]

Based on these and other examples, this was a common Lincoln metaphor that would have been familiar to many Union readers in 1864 and 1865. Hence, this metaphor, found in many of the major newspapers and heard among the regimental chaplains’ field services, ultimately worked its way into Corporal Deamude’s April 1865 letter and undoubtably into other soldiers’ letters as well. Besides commemorating Lincoln as a great person, poet Whitman tapped into the national subconsciousness, underscoring a theme that most everyone, including the former Civil War soldiers, already knew in their hearts.

[1] Walt Whitman, “O Captain! My Captain!” Walt Whitman: Civil War Poetry and Prose (New York: Dover Publications, 1995), 34.

[2] Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891-2), 262.

[3] H. Eastman to Abraham Lincoln, letter, 26 January 1864, The Papers of Abraham Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library, Springfield, Illinois, document #222986. The acrostic was an enclosure.

[4] “Resolutions of Wisconsin United Brethren in Christ regarding the State of the Country” sent to Abraham Lincoln, 27 November 1863, The Papers of Abraham Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library, Springfield, Illinois, document #222344.

[5] James F. Babcock to Abraham Lincoln, letter, 6 March 1860, The Papers of Abraham Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library, Springfield, Illinois, document #223365.

[6] See correspondence from Lincoln to A. Chester, March 14, 1860. Roy P. Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953-55), 4:30, including the second footnote. Regarding Lincoln in New Haven, see Michael Burlingame, Abraham Lincoln: A Life, 2 vols. (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 2008), 1:589-90.

[7] Philadelphia Inquirer, April 19, 1863, p. 5.

———————————————————————————————————————

Origin of Book Title (added 8 November 2019)

Where did the title In Their Letters, in Their Words come from?

The title was borrowed from this book’s antecedent project, the Sesquicentennial Civil War Series of poems. The following “found” prose poem, written around 2013 or 2014, was constructed as an archetypical Civil War soldier letter using extracts from several writers. In essence, it literally is from “in their letters, in their words.”

“In Their Letters, In Their Words”

My Own Dear Wife

Your kind letter came to hand this evening

I can assure you it was most welcome

As I had been expecting it for days

Now I take my pen in hand lest you have

Reason to scold me for being tardy

in writing you

For past neglect I send you a thrible

Favor it is one of the greatest comforts

I have converseing with you by writeing

I tell you that a Soldiers earthly joys

Are few & far between so excuse me

for not writing ofaner

I received your picture – I can assure

It gave me much pleasure though I hardly

Thought that it equalled the original

I have it where I can see it often

As it brings vividly to mind of one

whom I hope again to meet

You will probably have heard before this

Reaches you that we have had a fight here

Lest you think me either killed or wounded

I take the present opportunity

To inform you I am neither your fears

& misgivings were all bosh

I have often thought before this that I

Would like to witness one hard fought Battle

Never doe I want to see another

Scene of this kind unless necessary

Was a scene impossible to describe

for a writer or artist

It is sad indeed to think how many

Brave boys are sacrificsing their lives in

This terrible war I sincerely hope

The closing of another year will see

The close of this struggle so we will be

able to quit the Buisness

Our tents are pitched on the most beautifull

Place I ever saw all kinds of Fancy

Trees Shrubery, Flowers of every kind

War has brought its effects and nothing can

Destroy a mans property sooner than

having soldiers on his farm

*****

[The poem originally ended here, abruptly, partially to signify how many lives were truncated in the wake of the war’s carnage. It lacked a typical letter closing. So, I will add a final verse here.]

Dream of seeing you at home & awake

& find mysilf still in this dreary land

Writing is full of mistakes but you try

And spell out part of it and guess the rest

Give my love to all inquiring friends but

save a share for yourself.

*****

———————————————————————————————————————

How Soldiers Mailed Letters (added 1 November 2019)

At the “Grand Book Launch” on 17 October, an audience member asked how soldiers were able to mail letters.

As part of a regimental history, a former Illinois soldier described the essential activities of the military postal organization in his role as brigade postmaster.

“Each Regiment had its Postmaster, whose duty it was to collect the mail, and carry it each morning to Brigade headquarters, where it was deposited with the Brigade Postmaster, who placed it in one or two large sacks, according to the quantity received, strapped the sacks to his saddle, mounted his steed, and rode away to the nearest railroad communication, which might be one mile or fifty, and deposit it in the Postoffice established for the purpose; and receiving the mail for his Brigade from the Division Postmaster, return with it to the camp, distribute it into Regimental piles, when the Brigade bugler would sound the “Mail Call,” and the Regimental Postmasters would assemble and carry it to their several Regiments, divide it into Company piles, which would be taken by the Orderly Sergeants, and by them delivered to those to whom it was addressed.”^[1]

[above segment from page 2 of the book]

However, during a war, the transportation of mail came with extra opportunities for it to go awry.

near Roswell Bridge, Georgia, July 30, 1864, to wife, Clara

the mail carrier was, in co. with another man, gobbled [i.e., captured] day before yesterday, but they took advantage of their captors the next day at breakfast & getting hold of their guns made prisoners of them, returned to Marietta & to-day came safe thro’ with the mail

–1st Assistant Surgeon James Gaskill, 45^th Infantry, Bond County

The collective volume of soldier mail, both going and coming, was tremendous.

Memphis, Tennessee, August 14, 1863, to sister, Addie Tower

—Private John Cottle, 15th Infantry, McHenry County

[above quotation from page 18 of the book]

[1] Richard S. Thain, “How the Mail Came,” in Charles A. Partridge, History of the Ninety-Sixth Regiment, Illinois Volunteer Infantry (Chicago: Brown, Pettibone & Co., 1887; reprint, La Crosse, WI: Brookhaven Press, 2005), 650.

———————————————————————————————————————

Illinois Soldiers per Capita (added 25 October 2019)

In the book’s Preface, it is stated that “Illinois had the highest rate of volunteer soldiers per 1,000 capita of any Union state, at 151.3.” How did you arrive at that figure?

The commonly accepted sum for the total number of Illinois Civil War soldiers and sailors is 259,092. This number comes from Frederick Henry Dyer’s A Compendium of the War of the Rebellion (originally published in 1908) and that figure is repeated, for example, in Victor Hicken’s Illinois in the Civil War. The Illinois total population from the 1860 federal decennial census was 1,711,951. The Illinois per capita number of soldiers is calculated as a crude rate: 259,092 / 1,711,951 x 1,000 = 151.3 Illinois Civil War soldiers per 1,000 total state population. (Crude rate simply means the total population serves as the denominator.)

Using these same data sources, here are the five highest Union states’ per capita rates (soldiers and sailors per 1,000 total population).

State Civil War Soldiers 1860 Population Rate

Illinois 259,092 1,711,951 151.3

Indiana 196,363 1,350,428 145.4

Minnesota 24,020 172,023 139.6

Ohio 313,180 2,339,511 133.9

Rhode Island 23,236 174,620 133.1

It can be quibbled that some states also supplied soldiers to neighboring states’ regiments (as Illinois did, especially to [Union] Missouri), perhaps there are unaccounted repeat enlistments, numbers could include “bounty jumpers” who deserted before leaving the state, states may vary regarding better/worse recordkeeping, etc., all which might move the numerator numbers slightly. Similarly, state populations changed (generally grew, like in Illinois) between the 1860 census and the start (say) of the Civil War, or census enumerations perhaps were not of equal quality among the states, which might gently perturb the denominator numbers. Those minor points notwithstanding, it remains that Dyer’s counts and those of the Bureau of the Census in 1860 were generally uniformly collected and are the most widely accepted figures.

———————————————————————————————————————-

Names of Soldiers in the Book (added 18 October 2019)

A reader, Jean, writes: do you provide the names of the soldiers and their units included in the book?

Yes I do, especially because the book is constructed to also serve as a reference tool. Appendix A contains a brief biography for each of the 165 soldiers quoted, arranged alphabetically, including the regiment(s) or unit(s) in which each served. In addition, Appendix C arrays the 165 soldiers alphabetically by county of origin. Separately, the index lists every regiment or military unit mentioned in the book by state and number (or name).

———————————————————————————————————————-

Lincoln as the South’s “best friend” (added 11 October 2019)

On 3 October, at the twenty-first Conference on Illinois History, an attendee at the session “Illinoisans Experience the Civil War” asked me if Illinois soldiers’ letter references to the slain President Lincoln as the South’s “best friend” could have come from Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address made on 4 March 1865.

[In terms of context, this was during the session’s question-and-answer period, after I had delivered a paper presentation titled “Metaphorical Lincoln and Other Evidence of the Well-Read Illinois Civil War Soldier.” In that paper, I quoted the following two soldiers (where the bolding was my addition).

Cleveland, Tennessee, April 16, 1865, to father, Samuel

I hope that the death of our President will not prolong the war but I fear that it will cose a gingle in the affars but I do think if Johnson follows his former corse of life for the last three years, he will be much harder on them than Lincoln was. they have killed their best friend Johnson has got them in his power and I think that he will use it^[1]

–Corporal Charles Deamude, 150^th Infantry, Vermilion County

———-

Raleigh, North Carolina, April 20, 1865, to wife, Nellie

Our nation has lost the best man it ever knew. A Christian, patriot, & statesman, the best friend the South ever had, & a better friend the North need not want. What a calamity, what a pity. = I had hoped that Mr. Lincoln could live to see our country united, to have ruled over our whole nation in peace, but God’s will be done.^[2]

–Captain Albert Blackford, 107^th Infantry, DeWitt County

———-

In the paper, I went on to cite several newspapers of around the same date that used the phrase “best friend” in reference to the South and President Lincoln in either the body or the title of an article. For example, the Daily Ohio Statesman (Columbus, April 18) ran an article titled “The Infernal Conspiracy – Mr. Lincoln the Rebels’ Best Friend” and was based on a 17 April byline from Washington, DC’s The National Intelligencer. In that article was this phrasing: “a member of the Cabinet remarked on the day after the murder of Mr. Lincoln, that the rebels had lost their best friend.”^[3]]

At the time of the conference session, my overall response was along the lines of “probably not” but I will expand my answer here.

President Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address was not particularly conciliatory toward the South. Lincoln wrote regarding “the progress of our arms” as well as “saving the Union” and “accept war rather than let it [the nation] perish.” In reference to the South, Lincoln stated “Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God,” but plainly referenced “American Slavery” as a great offence and the then early hope that the “mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away.” He ends with “With malice toward none; with charity for all” followed by “bind up the nation’s wounds” and “achieve and cherish a just, and a lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.”[4]

It would be very difficult to read into this the view of Lincoln as the South’s “best friend,” specifically, from his Second Inaugural Address. However, what about Lincoln’s First Inaugural Address, which did primarily address the southern portion of the nation, delivered 4 March 1861?

The underlying theme of his First Inaugural Address was the nation should strive to avoid war with itself. For example, “One section of our country believes slavery is right, and ought to be extended, while the other believes it is wrong, and ought not to be extended. This is the only substantial dispute.” Lincoln went on to state “You have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the government, while I shall have the most solemn one to ‘preserve, protect and defend’ it.”

In the address’s final paragraph, Lincoln said “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.”[5]

Although appearing imminent, it was still pre-Civil War. And it would be unlikely that Illinois soldiers in 1865 were recalling pre-Civil War Lincoln as a best friend of the South.

All the above stated, many citizens and soldiers in late April 1865 thought President Abraham Lincoln, if he had lived, would have been kinder to the post-Civil War South than President Andrew Johnson would be. Johnson had garnered a reputation as no friend to the South based on his political policies as a Democratic Southern Unionist during the Civil War, when he had been a Lincoln-appointed war governor of Union-occupied Tennessee. Even in that line of thought, it bolsters the case of the “well-read Illinois Civil War soldier,” as Johnson’s political leanings would have been covered in the newspapers and discovered by the reading soldiery.

[1] Charles Deamude letters, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library (ALPL), Small Collection (SC)389.

[2] Albert Blackford letters, ALPL, SC3031.

[3] Daily Ohio Statesman, Columbus, April 18, 1865, “The Infernal Conspiracy – Mr. Lincoln the Rebels’ Best Friend,” p. 3.

[4] “Second Inaugural Address,” March 4, 1865. Roy P. Basler et al., eds., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953-55), 8:332-33.

[5] Collected Works, 4:262-71.

———————————————————————————————————————

A reviewer asked: “Who colorized the image on the book’s cover?” (added 4 October 2019)

The book’s cover art came from one-half of a hand-tinted stereoscopic image taken in May or June 1861 of Camp Essex near Baltimore that shows Massachusetts soldiers writing letters and mending clothes. It apparently was part of a series called “War Views” (no. 1501) published by E. & H T. Anthony & Co. of New York City, which had a “Stereoscopic Emporium” there. This company did the tinting of the stereoscopic images and titled the card “Writing to Friends at Home.” The scan of the card that SIU Press used for the book’s cover art came from private collector Arthur “Gil” Barrett of North Carolina, who kindly allowed it to be used for this purpose. A black & white version is part of the Library of Congress’s holdings at http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/stereo.1s02987 .

**********

Question Index

1 July 2022 – musket technology

24 June 2022 – J. A. C. McCoy update

17 June 2022 – artillery at the Battle of Harpers Ferry

10 June 2022 – Civil War weaponry: artillery (part 2)

3 June 2022 – Civil War weaponry: artillery (part 1)

27 May 2022 – promoting the book (part 2)

20 May 2022 – promoting the book (part 1)

13 May 2022 – unmarked Civil War graves

6 May 2022 – Camp Butler named after whom?

29 April 2022 – early Camp Butler letters

22 April 2022 – election speculation in 1864

15 April 2022 – diarrhea and dysentery

8 April 2022 – book’s ethnographic approach

1 April 2022 – packages from home

25 March 2022 – soldiers on U. S. Grant (part 3)

18 March 2022 – soldiers on U. S. Grant (part 2)

11 March 2022 – soldiers on U. S. Grant (part 1)

4 March 2022 – one soldier’s love letters (part 4)

25 February 2022 – one soldier’s love letters (part 3)

18 February 2022 – one soldier’s love letters (part 2)

11 February 2022 – one soldier’s love letters (part 1)

4 February 2022 – outdoor soldiers (part 2)

28 January 2022 – outdoor soldiers (part 1)

21 January 2022 – keeping awake

14 January 2022 – keeping clean

7 January 2022 – love letters

24 December 2021 – army mules

17 December 2021 – animals in camp

10 December 2021 – food cravings of POWs

3 December 2021 – food cravings

26 November 2021 – the trouble with Camp Yates

19 November 2021 – hardships at home

12 November 2021 – measles outbreaks

5 November 2021 – Sherman and early Camp Butler

22 October 2021 – Western versus Eastern soldiers

15 October 2021 – Illinois women soldiers

8 October 2021 – Camp Butler moved

1 October 2021 – worst morale factor

24 September 2021 – Illinois’s immigrant soldiers – part 2

17 September 2021 – Illinois’s immigrant soldiers – part 1

10 September 2021 – religion among the soldiers

3 September 2021 – regular army versus volunteers

27 August 2021 – soldiers’ comments on Grant – part 2

20 August 2021 – soldiers’ comments on Grant – part 1

13 August 2021 – letters from USCT soldiers

6 August 2021 – reactions to Lincoln’s death

30 July 2021 – writing surfaces

23 July 2021 – soldiers returning home

16 July 2021 – letter from Camp Yates

9 July 2021 – privately-owned letters

2 July 2021 – national holidays

25 June 2021 – war’s nadir for the North

18 June 2021 – post-battle burial of the dead

11 June 2021 – Harding letters in 1861 Illinois

4 June 2021 – guerrilla warfare in Illinois (part 2)

28 May 2021 – guerrilla warfare in Illinois (part 1)

21 May 2021 – railroad trains and cars (part 2)

14 May 2021 – railroad trains and cars (part 1)

7 May 2021 – Grand Army of the Republic (GAR)

30 April 2021 – soldier poetry

23 April 2021 – Illinois Medal of Honor recipients

16 April 2021 – Illinois Civil War soldier resources

9 April 2021 – Illinois Civil War sites (part 3)

2 April 2021 – Illinois Civil War sites (part 2)

26 March 2021 – Illinois Civil War sites (part 1)

19 March 2021 – writing style; “&c.”

12 March 2021 – prisoner-of-war mail

5 March 2021 – colloquialisms and terms (part 4)

26 February 2021 – colloquialisms and terms (part 3)

19 February 2021 – colloquialisms and terms (part 2)

12 February 2021 – colloquialisms and terms (part 1)

5 February 2021 – James M. Taylor letter

29 January 2021 – before the Battle of Shiloh

22 January 2021 – crime in Springfield

15 January 2021 – hardtack and coffee (part 2)

8 January 2021 – hardtack and coffee (part 1)

1 January 2021 – Lincoln home in mourning

24 December 2020 – Christmas descriptions

18 December 2020 – phonetic spelling

11 December 2020 – shoes and boots in the army

4 December 2020 – location of first Camp Butler

25 November 2020 – Thanksgiving proclamation

20 November 2020 – favorite soldiers

13 November 2020 – Mrs. Tilton of Springfield

6 November 2020 – October 1861 Alton incident addendum

30 October 2020 – October 1861 Alton incident

23 October 2020 – Springfield’s Camp Yates

16 October 2020 – presidential proclamations for more soldiers

9 October 2020 – Civil War accidents (part 2) – Mobile, Alabama explosion

2 October 2020 – Civil War accidents (part 1) – wreck of the “Watson”

25 September 2020 – soldiers paid in greenbacks

18 September 2020 – letter preservation biases

11 September 2020 – Mound City, Illinois

4 September 2020 – Battle of Harpers Ferry

28 August 2020 – Sherman at Camp Butler

21 August 2020 – Illinois’s surviving soldiers

14 August 2020 – soldiers’ writing places

7 August 2020 – soldiers’ dreams

31 July 2020 – leaving the military

24 July 2020 – Illinois Civil War sites

17 July 2020 – definition of Illinois soldier

10 July 2020 – 2nd Illinois Cavalry

3 July 2020 – crude colloquialisms

26 June 2020 – soldiers as nurses

19 June 2020 – battlefield truces

12 June 2020 – excerpts versus whole letters

5 June 2020 – soldiers and temperance

29 May 2020 – reading Civil War letters

8, 15, 22 May 2020 – number of Civil War deaths [parts 1-3]

1 May 2020 – dead horses and mules

24 April 2020 – whole letters versus excerpts

17 April 2020 – typhoid and typhus

10 April 2020 – misspelling “soldier”

3 April 2020 – leading volunteer soldiers

27 March 2020 – as a reference book

20 March 2020 – U.S. and regimental flags

13 March 2020 – combat at night

6 March 2020 – Civil War baseball

28 February 2020 – change in tone of letters

21 February 2020 – uniqueness of Illinois soldiers

14 February 2020 – censored letters

7 February 2020 – number of quotations

31 January 2020 – equipment soldiers carried

21 January 2020 – unexpected information from soldiers

17 January 2020 – inspiring quotations

10 January 2020 – Illinois regiments cited

3 January 2020 – Union postage stamps

27 December 2019 – pensions for Union soldiers

20 December 2019 – median age of Union soldiers

13 December 2019 – decline of Camp Yates

9 December 2019 – guard and picket duties (part 2)

29 November 2019 – guard and picket duties (part 1)

22 November 2019 – Tattoo heard in camp

15 November 2019 – Lincoln as captain metaphor

8 November 2019 – origin of book title

1 November 2019 – how soldiers mailed letters

25 October 2019 – Illinois soldiers per capita

18 October 2019 – names of soldiers in the book

11 October 2019 – Lincoln as South’s “best friend”

4 October 2019 – colorized book cover image

How to Submit a Question

Each week, I will choose a question or comment from readers about Illinois Civil War soldiers. I will do my best, each Friday, to respond to a selected question. I would prefer to answer inquiries directly related to the book or Illinois Civil War soldiers, but I will at least read and consider all reader submissions. To be considered, you must include your first and last name. I will not respond directly through email to provide answers. However, I may respond through email if I require a clarification regarding your inquiry. I kindly ask that you submit only one question per email.

Please send your submissions by going to the Contact Me page (or use this link here ) and simply include “Question of the Week” in the first line of your email. Also, please indicate if I may include your first name if I present a response on this web page, as in “John writes . . .” or “Jane writes.” Otherwise, a response will begin with “A reader writes . . .”

Finally and generally, no part of this website is intended to be a blog, discussion or chat room, have an independent comment section or reader postings, or have a directly interactive interface. This website primarily is for book information and promotion.