Before you all go out and buy a new wall tent or A-frame, check out this article. Pretty interesting...
http://44tennessee.tripod.com/tents.html
Friday, July 3, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Civil War Shotput
Here's a little story about an artilleryman from Eli Lilly's battery during the battle of Chickamauga. The battery had been deployed beside the Alexander house at the opening of the battle, and were supporting Wilder's lightning brigade. That's when this amazing story occurred.
Excerpt is from "This Terrible Sound" by Peter Cozzens.
Captain William Fowler's Alabama Battery returned the fire from a hill a half mile away. The first Rebel shell arched toward Lilly's gunners with an "awful, unearthly screeching. It seemed as if it never would strike it was so long coming...We all knew, from the sound of it, that it would strike someplace close by," recalled cannoneer Henry Campbell. The shell crashed through the trees. It bounced in front of gun number two, ricocheted off the corner of the Alexander cabin, then fell back among the horrified artillerymen with the fuse sizzling. Private Sidney Speed coolly picked up the shell and heaved it over the cabin, where it burst harmlessly on the other side. An amazed Captain Lilly cited Speed for gallantry in his after action report."
Hokey smokes!!!
Excerpt is from "This Terrible Sound" by Peter Cozzens.
Captain William Fowler's Alabama Battery returned the fire from a hill a half mile away. The first Rebel shell arched toward Lilly's gunners with an "awful, unearthly screeching. It seemed as if it never would strike it was so long coming...We all knew, from the sound of it, that it would strike someplace close by," recalled cannoneer Henry Campbell. The shell crashed through the trees. It bounced in front of gun number two, ricocheted off the corner of the Alexander cabin, then fell back among the horrified artillerymen with the fuse sizzling. Private Sidney Speed coolly picked up the shell and heaved it over the cabin, where it burst harmlessly on the other side. An amazed Captain Lilly cited Speed for gallantry in his after action report."
Hokey smokes!!!
Friday, June 5, 2009
FUBU
So there are a lot of research articles and such out there that fellow reenactors and amateur historians have put many long hours into, and this is another of those types of sites.
These guys are the Salt River Rifles, and have some excellent stuff on their website. Check it out, its very interesting!
http://www.geocities.com/saltriverrifles/articles
These guys are the Salt River Rifles, and have some excellent stuff on their website. Check it out, its very interesting!
http://www.geocities.com/saltriverrifles/articles
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Nifty!
Sorry about the lack of posts, trying to get the crops in the ground here in good 'ol Indiana. Most of the spring has been like a monsoon season! Found this on the Authentic Campaigner site, and wanted to pass it on for all those early spring and late fall events where the weather gets a bit frosty!
http://www.geocities.com/rowdy_pards/articles/sleeping.html
http://www.geocities.com/rowdy_pards/articles/sleeping.html
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
And a Nickname is Born
Most of you probably know that Ulysses S. Grant was nicknamed "Unconditional Surrender" Grant by the northern press after he took Fort Donelson. What some of you might not know is the exchange of dispatches between the opposing commanders that brought this about. Found this in the TimeLife "Voices of the Civil War" series of books.
Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant:
"Before daylight General Smith brought to me the following letter from General Buckner: 'Sir, in consideration of all the circumstances governing the present situation of affairs at this station, I propose to the Commanding Officer of the Federal forces the appointment of Commissioners to agree upon terms of capitulation of the forces and fort under my command, and in that view, suggest an armistice until 2 o'clock today."
Major John H. Brinton (Brigadier General on Grant's staff):
"The night was inclement. Our troops slept on their arms, General C.F. Smith's division being absolutely within the lines of defense around Fort Donelson. All apparently passed quietly enough, no sorties by the enemy and no attack by us. General Grant slept at his headquarters in a feather bed in the kitchen, and I remember that I was curled up on the floor near the fire with my head resting in the seat of my saddle. Early, very early, an orderly entered, ushering in General C.F. Smith, who seemed very cold, indeed half frozen. He walked at once to the open fire on the hearth, for a moment warmed his feet, then turned his back to the fire, facing General Grant who had slipped out of bed, and who was quickly drawing on his outer clothes.
'There's something for you to read, General Grant," said Smith, handing him a letter and while he was doing so, Smith asked us for something to drink. My flask, the only liquor on the Staff, was handed to him, and he helped himself in a soldier-like manner. I can almost see him now, erect, manly, every inch a soldier, standing in front of the fire, twisting his long white moustache and wiping his lips.
'What answer shall I send to this, General Smith,' asked Grant.
'No terms to the damned rebels," replied Smith. Those were his actual words. General Grant gave a short laugh, and drawing a piece of paper, letter size, and of rather poor quality, began to write. In a short time, certainly, not many minutes, he finished and read aloud as if to General Smith, but really so that we understrappers could all hear, his famous "Unconditional surrender" letter, ending with,
'I propose to move immediately upon your works.'
General Smith gave a short emphatic 'Hm!' and remarking, "It's the same thing in smoother words," stalked out of the room to deliver the letter, which was shortly followed by the return answer of surrender.
Brigadier General Simon Bolivar Buckner:
Headquarters Dover, Tenn.,
February 16, 1862
To Brig.-Gen. U.S. Grant, U.S.A.:
Sir: The distribution of the forces under my command, incident to an unexpected change of commanders, and the overwhelming force under your command, compel me, notwithstanding the brilliant success of the confederate arms yesterday, to accept the ungenerous and unchivalrous terms which you propose. I am, sir, your very obedient servant,
S.B. Buckner
Brig.-Gen. C.S.A.
Well played, sir. Bully!
Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant:
"Before daylight General Smith brought to me the following letter from General Buckner: 'Sir, in consideration of all the circumstances governing the present situation of affairs at this station, I propose to the Commanding Officer of the Federal forces the appointment of Commissioners to agree upon terms of capitulation of the forces and fort under my command, and in that view, suggest an armistice until 2 o'clock today."
Major John H. Brinton (Brigadier General on Grant's staff):
"The night was inclement. Our troops slept on their arms, General C.F. Smith's division being absolutely within the lines of defense around Fort Donelson. All apparently passed quietly enough, no sorties by the enemy and no attack by us. General Grant slept at his headquarters in a feather bed in the kitchen, and I remember that I was curled up on the floor near the fire with my head resting in the seat of my saddle. Early, very early, an orderly entered, ushering in General C.F. Smith, who seemed very cold, indeed half frozen. He walked at once to the open fire on the hearth, for a moment warmed his feet, then turned his back to the fire, facing General Grant who had slipped out of bed, and who was quickly drawing on his outer clothes.
'There's something for you to read, General Grant," said Smith, handing him a letter and while he was doing so, Smith asked us for something to drink. My flask, the only liquor on the Staff, was handed to him, and he helped himself in a soldier-like manner. I can almost see him now, erect, manly, every inch a soldier, standing in front of the fire, twisting his long white moustache and wiping his lips.
'What answer shall I send to this, General Smith,' asked Grant.
'No terms to the damned rebels," replied Smith. Those were his actual words. General Grant gave a short laugh, and drawing a piece of paper, letter size, and of rather poor quality, began to write. In a short time, certainly, not many minutes, he finished and read aloud as if to General Smith, but really so that we understrappers could all hear, his famous "Unconditional surrender" letter, ending with,
'I propose to move immediately upon your works.'
General Smith gave a short emphatic 'Hm!' and remarking, "It's the same thing in smoother words," stalked out of the room to deliver the letter, which was shortly followed by the return answer of surrender.
Brigadier General Simon Bolivar Buckner:
Headquarters Dover, Tenn.,
February 16, 1862
To Brig.-Gen. U.S. Grant, U.S.A.:
Sir: The distribution of the forces under my command, incident to an unexpected change of commanders, and the overwhelming force under your command, compel me, notwithstanding the brilliant success of the confederate arms yesterday, to accept the ungenerous and unchivalrous terms which you propose. I am, sir, your very obedient servant,
S.B. Buckner
Brig.-Gen. C.S.A.
Well played, sir. Bully!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Camp Musicians
At the time of the Civil War, minstrel tunes sung with the accompaniment of the banjo and fiddle were the most popular forms of music, so it was only natural that within the armies, there were literally thousands of musicians. These camp musicians were one of the ways for the men to remove themselves from the monotony and terror of war. One famous musician, Sam Sweeney (brother of Joel Sweeney who is credited with the invention of the 5 string banjo), had only one job during the war. He was J.E.B. Stuart's personal banjo player and played for the troops, the general, and his guests.
The following story is from an article entitled "Reminiscences of a Banjo Player" published in the February 1893 issue of S.S. Stewart's Banjo and Guitar Journal. Mr. A. Baur relates the following:
"...In 1864 there were very few regiments in the service that had more than one wagon for the whole regiment...Strict orders were at all times issued that no baggage must be carried for an enlisted man in any of the wagons...Where there's a will, there's a way, and a few of us managed with the help of a friendly teamster to stow away a tack head banjo and an accordion...
If the weather was pleasant, a crowd would gather around the camp fire, the banjo and accordion having been sneaked out of the wagon and a door from some farm house or a couple of boards having been put on the ground on one side of the fire, the audience would take it's place on the opposite side, when the evening's entertainment would be gone through with. It consisted of songs with banjo and accordion accompaniment, stories of home and jig dancing. The performances were crude but helped while away many a lonely hour and remind us of home and friends in the far north.
Owing to poor facilities for keeping the instruments in order, the instrumental part of our entertainments were always the poorest. Sometimes it would be weeks before we could get a string, and if the banjo head was broken, it took much time and maneuvering for one of our party to steal into the tent of a drummer and punch a hole in a drum near the shell, after which we would watch that drummer's tent with eagle eyes until he took the damaged head and threw it out, when 'one of the gang' would pounce on it and bring it to camp in a round about way. Owing to their thickness, the drum heads did not make very good banjo heads, but they beat 'nothing clear out of sight.' In addition to the banjo and accordion, we had a set of beef bones and a sheet iron mess pan that answered for a tambourine. Taking into consideration our surroundings and the disadvantages under which we labored, we had some tolerably good shows and at any rate satisfied our open air audiences..."
As I am currently working on learning how to play the minstrel style banjo, I saw this and thought it very interesting. Maybe a flavor to be added to our camps at night during reenactments, and if we don't have a banjo handy, just make our own instruments with whatever is laying around. Of course, be courteous to sleeping messmates as it will probably be a noise most likely to wake the dead!
The following story is from an article entitled "Reminiscences of a Banjo Player" published in the February 1893 issue of S.S. Stewart's Banjo and Guitar Journal. Mr. A. Baur relates the following:
"...In 1864 there were very few regiments in the service that had more than one wagon for the whole regiment...Strict orders were at all times issued that no baggage must be carried for an enlisted man in any of the wagons...Where there's a will, there's a way, and a few of us managed with the help of a friendly teamster to stow away a tack head banjo and an accordion...
If the weather was pleasant, a crowd would gather around the camp fire, the banjo and accordion having been sneaked out of the wagon and a door from some farm house or a couple of boards having been put on the ground on one side of the fire, the audience would take it's place on the opposite side, when the evening's entertainment would be gone through with. It consisted of songs with banjo and accordion accompaniment, stories of home and jig dancing. The performances were crude but helped while away many a lonely hour and remind us of home and friends in the far north.
Owing to poor facilities for keeping the instruments in order, the instrumental part of our entertainments were always the poorest. Sometimes it would be weeks before we could get a string, and if the banjo head was broken, it took much time and maneuvering for one of our party to steal into the tent of a drummer and punch a hole in a drum near the shell, after which we would watch that drummer's tent with eagle eyes until he took the damaged head and threw it out, when 'one of the gang' would pounce on it and bring it to camp in a round about way. Owing to their thickness, the drum heads did not make very good banjo heads, but they beat 'nothing clear out of sight.' In addition to the banjo and accordion, we had a set of beef bones and a sheet iron mess pan that answered for a tambourine. Taking into consideration our surroundings and the disadvantages under which we labored, we had some tolerably good shows and at any rate satisfied our open air audiences..."
As I am currently working on learning how to play the minstrel style banjo, I saw this and thought it very interesting. Maybe a flavor to be added to our camps at night during reenactments, and if we don't have a banjo handy, just make our own instruments with whatever is laying around. Of course, be courteous to sleeping messmates as it will probably be a noise most likely to wake the dead!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
The Battle of Chicago's Beer Gardens
Whew! It's been awhile! Well let's get right to it.
This tale comes from Robert Strong, and involves his return trip to Illinois after the war. His regiment was sent back to Chicago. They wired the mayor asking for quarters and provisions and got none! They were then ordered to to different quarters, still with nothing to eat. You can imagine the mood the men were in by this time.
"We reached our camp at nine o'clock Friday morning and found some rations had been sent to us. On opening the boxes of crackers, we found them alive with worms. The meat was so maggotty that we could not eat it. Then we were mad! Our officers bought us some dinner and the quartermaster was sent for. He attempted to apologize for the condition of the rations. He was told that if he did not very soon have full, clean rations on the grounds, we would hang him. The rations came, but we stayed mad.
Adjoining the camp was a Dutch beer garden. On sunday morining it began to fill up with men and women coming to spend the day drinking and dancing.
The other regiments in camp besides the 105th (Strong's unit) did not go home saturday night, but went almost in a body into these beer gardens. Early on sunday, a soldier in one of those regiments bought a whopping big glass of beer and drunk the health of "Old Billy Sherman." When this soldier toasted Old Billy, a big Dutchman said, "Damn Sherman." The soldier knocked him down with his beer glass. Others came to the Dutchman's rescue, and for a time I thought they would clean us out.
Just then, some soldier called out, "Attention, Sherman's Bummers to the rescue!" and then, Oh my countrymen, began a fierce fight. In ten minutes, the saloon keeper had not a bottle or keg or box of cigars unsmashed, and he himself lay senseless on the ground. Police came rushing in with their clubs, and they got a drubbing. The battle kept roaring for two hours. We did not go for our guns, but used our fists and chairs and the clubs which we had taken away from the policemen.
The mayor ordered out all the police and himself came to quell the riot. He swore he would arrest every one of us. As it happened, General Joe Hooker, who had formerly had command of us, appeared about then. He told the mayor: 'These boys are mad at the way you have used them, but will quiet down if you let them alone. But if you bring any more policemen or new troops here, they will think it fun to whip the whole crowd. They have faced cannon and musketry for three years, and do not know what fear is. Let them alone or they will burn down your city.'
So the mayor left us alone."
Awesome. Go Hooker!
This tale comes from Robert Strong, and involves his return trip to Illinois after the war. His regiment was sent back to Chicago. They wired the mayor asking for quarters and provisions and got none! They were then ordered to to different quarters, still with nothing to eat. You can imagine the mood the men were in by this time.
"We reached our camp at nine o'clock Friday morning and found some rations had been sent to us. On opening the boxes of crackers, we found them alive with worms. The meat was so maggotty that we could not eat it. Then we were mad! Our officers bought us some dinner and the quartermaster was sent for. He attempted to apologize for the condition of the rations. He was told that if he did not very soon have full, clean rations on the grounds, we would hang him. The rations came, but we stayed mad.
Adjoining the camp was a Dutch beer garden. On sunday morining it began to fill up with men and women coming to spend the day drinking and dancing.
The other regiments in camp besides the 105th (Strong's unit) did not go home saturday night, but went almost in a body into these beer gardens. Early on sunday, a soldier in one of those regiments bought a whopping big glass of beer and drunk the health of "Old Billy Sherman." When this soldier toasted Old Billy, a big Dutchman said, "Damn Sherman." The soldier knocked him down with his beer glass. Others came to the Dutchman's rescue, and for a time I thought they would clean us out.
Just then, some soldier called out, "Attention, Sherman's Bummers to the rescue!" and then, Oh my countrymen, began a fierce fight. In ten minutes, the saloon keeper had not a bottle or keg or box of cigars unsmashed, and he himself lay senseless on the ground. Police came rushing in with their clubs, and they got a drubbing. The battle kept roaring for two hours. We did not go for our guns, but used our fists and chairs and the clubs which we had taken away from the policemen.
The mayor ordered out all the police and himself came to quell the riot. He swore he would arrest every one of us. As it happened, General Joe Hooker, who had formerly had command of us, appeared about then. He told the mayor: 'These boys are mad at the way you have used them, but will quiet down if you let them alone. But if you bring any more policemen or new troops here, they will think it fun to whip the whole crowd. They have faced cannon and musketry for three years, and do not know what fear is. Let them alone or they will burn down your city.'
So the mayor left us alone."
Awesome. Go Hooker!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Fine Tuning
Well, busy at work and not a lot of time for blogging today! Check out this little link about fine tuning your federal impression. And no, it doesn't include big $$$$$!!!!!
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Oracle/8577/ftneart.html
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Oracle/8577/ftneart.html
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
That Rascally Morgan
So my reenacting unit's first event is coming up this weekend at Vernon, IN. It is for the town's Sassafras Festival, and the proceeds go to benefit the local historical society. I recommend anyone who's in the area to come on over and check it out, as the home made pies and breads are excellent!!
Vernon's history includes just a bit of Morgan's final raid into Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio. It was just outside of town that he turned east into Ohio and eventually to his capture. Submitted by a friend, this is a story related from "The Camp Jester, or Amusement for the Mess" published by Blackmar and Brother, Augusta, GA, 1864. Its an amusing little story about an interaction by Morgan and some Indiana home guard.
HOW MORGAN GOT THREE HUNDRED HORSES.
John Morgan is as good at playing a joke sometimes as he is at horse stealing, and the following incident will prove that on this occasion he did a little of both at the same time. During his celebrated tour through Indiana he, with about three hundred and fifty guerillas, took occasion to pay a visit to a little town hard by, while the main body were 'marching on.' Dashing suddenly into the little 'burg,' he found about three hundred home guards, each having a good horse tied to the fences--the men standing about in groups, awaiting orders from their aged captain, who looked as if he had seen the shady side of some sixty years. The Hoosier boys looked at the men with astonishment while the captain went up to one of the party and asked:
"Whose company is this?"
"Wolford's cavalry," said the reb.
"What! Kentucky boys! We're glad to see you boys? Whar's Wolford?"
"There he sits," said a ragged, rough rebel, pointing to Morgan, who was sitting side ways upon his horse.
The Captain walked up to Wolford (as he and all thought) and saluted him:
"Captain, how are you?"
"Bully! How are you? What are you going to do with all these men and horses?" Morgan looked about.
"Well, you see that damned horse thieving John Morgan is in this part of the country with a parcel of cut throats and thieves, and between you and I, if he comes up this way Captain, we'll give him the best we've got in the shop."
"He's hard to catch, we've been after him for fourteen days and can't see him at all," said Morgan good humoredly.
"Ef our hosses would stand fire we'd be all right."
"Won't they stand?"
"No, Captain Wolford; 'spose while you're restin' you and your company put your saddles on our horses and go through a little evolution or two, by way of a lesson to our boys. I am told you are a hoss on the drill."
And the only man that Morgan is afraid of, Wolford (as it were,) alighted and ordered "his boys" to dismount, as he wanted to show the Hoosier boys how to give Morgan a warm reception should he chance to pay them a visit. This delighted the hoosier boys, so they went to work and assisted the men to tie their old weary, worn out bones to the fences, and place their saddles upon the backs of their fresh horses, which was soon done, and the men were in their saddles drawn up in line and ready for the word. The boys were highly elated at the idea of having their pet horses," trained for them by Wolford and his men, and the more so to think that they would stand fire ever afterwards.
The old Captain advanced, and walking up to Wolford, (as he thought,) said: "Captain, are you all right now?" Wolford rode up one side of the column and down the other, when he moved to the front, took off his hat, paused and said, "Now, Captain, I am ready; if you and your gallant men wish to witness an evolution which you perhaps have never seen, form a line on each side of the road, and watch us closely as we pass." The Captain did as he was directed. A lot of ladies were present on the occasion, and all was as silent as a maiden's sigh.
"Are you ready?"
"All right, Wolford," shouted the Captain.
"Forward!" shouted Morgan, as the whole column rushed through the crowd with lightning speed, amid the shouts and huzzas of every one present--some leading a horse or two as they went, leaving their frail tenements of horse flesh tied to the fences, to be provided for by the citizens. It soon became whispered about that it was John Morgan and his gang, and there is not a man in the town who will "own up" that he was gulled out of a horse. The company disbanded that night, though the Captain holds the horses as prisoners of war, and awaits an exchange.
There's some great stuff in this book and is available online to read for free. Just google "The Camp Jester," and check it out!
Vernon's history includes just a bit of Morgan's final raid into Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio. It was just outside of town that he turned east into Ohio and eventually to his capture. Submitted by a friend, this is a story related from "The Camp Jester, or Amusement for the Mess" published by Blackmar and Brother, Augusta, GA, 1864. Its an amusing little story about an interaction by Morgan and some Indiana home guard.
HOW MORGAN GOT THREE HUNDRED HORSES.
John Morgan is as good at playing a joke sometimes as he is at horse stealing, and the following incident will prove that on this occasion he did a little of both at the same time. During his celebrated tour through Indiana he, with about three hundred and fifty guerillas, took occasion to pay a visit to a little town hard by, while the main body were 'marching on.' Dashing suddenly into the little 'burg,' he found about three hundred home guards, each having a good horse tied to the fences--the men standing about in groups, awaiting orders from their aged captain, who looked as if he had seen the shady side of some sixty years. The Hoosier boys looked at the men with astonishment while the captain went up to one of the party and asked:
"Whose company is this?"
"Wolford's cavalry," said the reb.
"What! Kentucky boys! We're glad to see you boys? Whar's Wolford?"
"There he sits," said a ragged, rough rebel, pointing to Morgan, who was sitting side ways upon his horse.
The Captain walked up to Wolford (as he and all thought) and saluted him:
"Captain, how are you?"
"Bully! How are you? What are you going to do with all these men and horses?" Morgan looked about.
"Well, you see that damned horse thieving John Morgan is in this part of the country with a parcel of cut throats and thieves, and between you and I, if he comes up this way Captain, we'll give him the best we've got in the shop."
"He's hard to catch, we've been after him for fourteen days and can't see him at all," said Morgan good humoredly.
"Ef our hosses would stand fire we'd be all right."
"Won't they stand?"
"No, Captain Wolford; 'spose while you're restin' you and your company put your saddles on our horses and go through a little evolution or two, by way of a lesson to our boys. I am told you are a hoss on the drill."
And the only man that Morgan is afraid of, Wolford (as it were,) alighted and ordered "his boys" to dismount, as he wanted to show the Hoosier boys how to give Morgan a warm reception should he chance to pay them a visit. This delighted the hoosier boys, so they went to work and assisted the men to tie their old weary, worn out bones to the fences, and place their saddles upon the backs of their fresh horses, which was soon done, and the men were in their saddles drawn up in line and ready for the word. The boys were highly elated at the idea of having their pet horses," trained for them by Wolford and his men, and the more so to think that they would stand fire ever afterwards.
The old Captain advanced, and walking up to Wolford, (as he thought,) said: "Captain, are you all right now?" Wolford rode up one side of the column and down the other, when he moved to the front, took off his hat, paused and said, "Now, Captain, I am ready; if you and your gallant men wish to witness an evolution which you perhaps have never seen, form a line on each side of the road, and watch us closely as we pass." The Captain did as he was directed. A lot of ladies were present on the occasion, and all was as silent as a maiden's sigh.
"Are you ready?"
"All right, Wolford," shouted the Captain.
"Forward!" shouted Morgan, as the whole column rushed through the crowd with lightning speed, amid the shouts and huzzas of every one present--some leading a horse or two as they went, leaving their frail tenements of horse flesh tied to the fences, to be provided for by the citizens. It soon became whispered about that it was John Morgan and his gang, and there is not a man in the town who will "own up" that he was gulled out of a horse. The company disbanded that night, though the Captain holds the horses as prisoners of war, and awaits an exchange.
There's some great stuff in this book and is available online to read for free. Just google "The Camp Jester," and check it out!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The Virginia Death March
After the surrender of Lee and Johnston, the two armies of the north prepared to march to the capital for one last "grand review" before being discharged. This is the disgraceful story of Sherman's army as it made its way through Virginia.
"Who was responsible for the severity of that march, I don't know. General Joseph A. Mower had been placed in command of our corps and it was said that he and other corps commanders had laid wagers as to who would reach Washington first.
The first half of the march was not hard, but then began the race. By then, it was very hot in the South. The march we were on wore out the best of us. Men fell out by the roadside and lay there completely eshausted. Sometimes the captain, or if the captain fell out, some other officer who would be leading the company, would find he had only three of four men following him and would draw them to one side and all lay down to rest. Some nights when going into camp the colonel would not have fifty men in this regiment.
We had made many forced marches on our long, roundabout route from Lousiville, Kentucky, through Tennessee, Georgia, and the Carolinas, but this march after the war was over always makes me mad to think of, even now.
I have seen men dying from exhaustion, lying in fence corners, whose deaths were simply murder. No one had time to time to wait on anyone, especially if the was a stranger. When our own boys fell down, we would pull them into the shade, pour water on their heads, and go on and leave them. We lost no men by death on this march, but we saw dead men lying in fence corners or under trees every day. After the first few days the boys got mad and fell out when they got tired. They came on when rested, and no rear guard meddled with them."
These words by Robert Strong, 105th Ill., are especially disturbing because of the fact that the war was over. I have no evidence to believe that a "race" was the cause for the march, or that the officers had placed wagers on it. What I do know is that an officer's duty is not only to lead and command, but to also look out for the well being of their men. It is shameful to think of men being treated this way, after marching so far, fighting so long, and enduring so much. How hard it must have been to bring even the hardest veterans of Sherman's army to fall out.
"Who was responsible for the severity of that march, I don't know. General Joseph A. Mower had been placed in command of our corps and it was said that he and other corps commanders had laid wagers as to who would reach Washington first.
The first half of the march was not hard, but then began the race. By then, it was very hot in the South. The march we were on wore out the best of us. Men fell out by the roadside and lay there completely eshausted. Sometimes the captain, or if the captain fell out, some other officer who would be leading the company, would find he had only three of four men following him and would draw them to one side and all lay down to rest. Some nights when going into camp the colonel would not have fifty men in this regiment.
We had made many forced marches on our long, roundabout route from Lousiville, Kentucky, through Tennessee, Georgia, and the Carolinas, but this march after the war was over always makes me mad to think of, even now.
I have seen men dying from exhaustion, lying in fence corners, whose deaths were simply murder. No one had time to time to wait on anyone, especially if the was a stranger. When our own boys fell down, we would pull them into the shade, pour water on their heads, and go on and leave them. We lost no men by death on this march, but we saw dead men lying in fence corners or under trees every day. After the first few days the boys got mad and fell out when they got tired. They came on when rested, and no rear guard meddled with them."
These words by Robert Strong, 105th Ill., are especially disturbing because of the fact that the war was over. I have no evidence to believe that a "race" was the cause for the march, or that the officers had placed wagers on it. What I do know is that an officer's duty is not only to lead and command, but to also look out for the well being of their men. It is shameful to think of men being treated this way, after marching so far, fighting so long, and enduring so much. How hard it must have been to bring even the hardest veterans of Sherman's army to fall out.
Monday, April 20, 2009
At the Route Step
This link on the Authentic Campaigner website was pointed out to me several months ago, and I thought that I would share this with everyone.
Generally, when the order to march at the route step is ordered, it is assumed that the soldier no longer needs to keep in step and that they may carry the rifle in whichever way he feels most comfortable. This debate flaired up, and interestingly enough, some folks went back to the drill manuals to see what they say! What craziness!
http://www.authentic-campaigner.com/forum/showthread.php?t=12064&highlight=route+step+muzzle
Muzzles up!
Generally, when the order to march at the route step is ordered, it is assumed that the soldier no longer needs to keep in step and that they may carry the rifle in whichever way he feels most comfortable. This debate flaired up, and interestingly enough, some folks went back to the drill manuals to see what they say! What craziness!
http://www.authentic-campaigner.com/forum/showthread.php?t=12064&highlight=route+step+muzzle
Muzzles up!
Friday, April 17, 2009
The Great Escape
So once again, we meet up with Mr. Strong of the 105th Ill. I know we've visited him several times already, but being as it's the book I'm currently reading, and there are many good stories, so here we go.
He had been out on a foraging expedition and had stopped to butcher a hog he had seen out in a field. Meanwhile, his pards had moved on and left him behind, unbeknown to Mr. Strong. Suddenly a reb cavalry patrol (not Calvary, if you don't know the difference, pick up a bible) happens upon him, and a running, shooting chase is on!
"While pounding along, I happened to think that some of the n.....s (changed so as not to offend African Americans) around camp had said that my mare was a trained fox hunter. If she was, she was of course trained to jump. I determined to try her. I was going down a rail-fenced road. If I could get off of it a sudden, I could turn and shake off the Rebs.
I had no time to dismount and throw the top rail off the fence, for the Rebs were right behind me, shooting and yelping. It was sport to them, but not to me...in my case capture spelled certain death because I was foraging. Suddenly on my right, a gun went off and a bullet whizzed by me. It meant more Rebs coming from that way.
I galloped a little farther, slowed up a little, straightened up in the saddle, and lifted on the bit, heading for the fence. That little mare jumped the fence as easy as I could a rail. Then I took off my hat, waved it at the Rebs, and rode off into the woods.
They fired at me, threw down the fence and came after me. Pretty soon I struck a sort of trail...I took it with the Rebs still after me, some shooting, some shouting, 'Surrender!' and one sport yelling, 'Go it Yank!' You may be sure I took his advice and went it."
Mr. Strong continues on the way towards his column of comrades, but his mare was beginning to breathe pretty hard having run several miles.
"Then I came to a creek that had a burned bridge across it...So I slipped the bridle rein over the mare's head and coaxed her into the water. She did not want to go in. The Rebs were getting nearer all the time. I was just on the point of turning her loose and running for it when she jumped in and swam across. I mounted on the other shore and rode on. Soon I overtook the boys and was safe.
I remember how I petted that mare and how I wished I could send her north. Later on-oh, sad story-I lost her, not to the Rebs but to General Judson Kilpatrick's cavalry. They seized all our Bummers' horses for cavalry remounts. I could have fought them."
That last paragraph is great, because I have read in many accounts before of the infantryman's disdain for the cavalryman. Often they speak of the cavalry as being scared of a fight unless emboldened by the prospect of a column of infantry behind them! Also, many men speak of their favorite mounts during the war, almost as fellow soldiers and friends. If you are interested in more human/horse stories, I suggest looking up "Old Baldy", "Traveller", or "Little Sorrel" just to name a few. Several are actually stuffed and in museums across the country today!
Have a happy weekend, I'm working the whole thing. Woo hoo!
He had been out on a foraging expedition and had stopped to butcher a hog he had seen out in a field. Meanwhile, his pards had moved on and left him behind, unbeknown to Mr. Strong. Suddenly a reb cavalry patrol (not Calvary, if you don't know the difference, pick up a bible) happens upon him, and a running, shooting chase is on!
"While pounding along, I happened to think that some of the n.....s (changed so as not to offend African Americans) around camp had said that my mare was a trained fox hunter. If she was, she was of course trained to jump. I determined to try her. I was going down a rail-fenced road. If I could get off of it a sudden, I could turn and shake off the Rebs.
I had no time to dismount and throw the top rail off the fence, for the Rebs were right behind me, shooting and yelping. It was sport to them, but not to me...in my case capture spelled certain death because I was foraging. Suddenly on my right, a gun went off and a bullet whizzed by me. It meant more Rebs coming from that way.
I galloped a little farther, slowed up a little, straightened up in the saddle, and lifted on the bit, heading for the fence. That little mare jumped the fence as easy as I could a rail. Then I took off my hat, waved it at the Rebs, and rode off into the woods.
They fired at me, threw down the fence and came after me. Pretty soon I struck a sort of trail...I took it with the Rebs still after me, some shooting, some shouting, 'Surrender!' and one sport yelling, 'Go it Yank!' You may be sure I took his advice and went it."
Mr. Strong continues on the way towards his column of comrades, but his mare was beginning to breathe pretty hard having run several miles.
"Then I came to a creek that had a burned bridge across it...So I slipped the bridle rein over the mare's head and coaxed her into the water. She did not want to go in. The Rebs were getting nearer all the time. I was just on the point of turning her loose and running for it when she jumped in and swam across. I mounted on the other shore and rode on. Soon I overtook the boys and was safe.
I remember how I petted that mare and how I wished I could send her north. Later on-oh, sad story-I lost her, not to the Rebs but to General Judson Kilpatrick's cavalry. They seized all our Bummers' horses for cavalry remounts. I could have fought them."
That last paragraph is great, because I have read in many accounts before of the infantryman's disdain for the cavalryman. Often they speak of the cavalry as being scared of a fight unless emboldened by the prospect of a column of infantry behind them! Also, many men speak of their favorite mounts during the war, almost as fellow soldiers and friends. If you are interested in more human/horse stories, I suggest looking up "Old Baldy", "Traveller", or "Little Sorrel" just to name a few. Several are actually stuffed and in museums across the country today!
Have a happy weekend, I'm working the whole thing. Woo hoo!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
'Cause we men ain't we...part 3
So here we go into part 3 of the Glory revision!
So I basically want to work on the assault on Battery Wagner, also known as the Second Battle of Fort Wagner. There was another assault made a week earlier in which 12 confederates were killed as opposed to 330 federal losses. As I mentioned before, the assault came from the other side so that the ocean was on the right of the men. In the movie, Shaw volunteers the 54th for the attack, however, in reality, it never happened that way. General George Crockett Strong asked Shaw if he wanted to lead the attack. Shaw could have declined, but after some consideration, decided to go in first because "if black men could storm the fort and open the door to the birthplace of the rebellion, the symbolism would be enormous."
Next comes the part where Matthew Broderick says, "If this man should fall, who will lift the flag and carry on?" Thomas responds that he will. False. The question was actually asked by General Strong, and Shaw responded that he would. After the first bearer and Shaw fell, Sergeant William Harvey Carney picked it up, carried it to the battery, and all the way back again, receiving four wounds in the process. He became the first black recipient of the medal of honor.
The manner in which Shaw dies in the film is actually fairly accurate, however, his final words were "Forward, fifty-fourth!" and he made it to the top of the parapet before being shot several times in the chest. His body actually tumbled into the fort. Shaw was buried with his soldiers in a mass grave, but his body was stripped of its uniform and he was thrown in first, with his men on top. The confederates intended this to be an insult, but Shaw's father later states that he was proud his son was buried with his men.
The federals never did take Wagner by storm, however, confederate forces abandoned the fort on Sept. 7th 1863, after 60 days of siege and bombardment.
Is this finally it? Could there be more? You'll have to tune in tomorrow to find out...
So I basically want to work on the assault on Battery Wagner, also known as the Second Battle of Fort Wagner. There was another assault made a week earlier in which 12 confederates were killed as opposed to 330 federal losses. As I mentioned before, the assault came from the other side so that the ocean was on the right of the men. In the movie, Shaw volunteers the 54th for the attack, however, in reality, it never happened that way. General George Crockett Strong asked Shaw if he wanted to lead the attack. Shaw could have declined, but after some consideration, decided to go in first because "if black men could storm the fort and open the door to the birthplace of the rebellion, the symbolism would be enormous."
Next comes the part where Matthew Broderick says, "If this man should fall, who will lift the flag and carry on?" Thomas responds that he will. False. The question was actually asked by General Strong, and Shaw responded that he would. After the first bearer and Shaw fell, Sergeant William Harvey Carney picked it up, carried it to the battery, and all the way back again, receiving four wounds in the process. He became the first black recipient of the medal of honor.
The manner in which Shaw dies in the film is actually fairly accurate, however, his final words were "Forward, fifty-fourth!" and he made it to the top of the parapet before being shot several times in the chest. His body actually tumbled into the fort. Shaw was buried with his soldiers in a mass grave, but his body was stripped of its uniform and he was thrown in first, with his men on top. The confederates intended this to be an insult, but Shaw's father later states that he was proud his son was buried with his men.
The federals never did take Wagner by storm, however, confederate forces abandoned the fort on Sept. 7th 1863, after 60 days of siege and bombardment.
Is this finally it? Could there be more? You'll have to tune in tomorrow to find out...
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
'Cause we men ain't we...part 2
Next, I was intrigued by Cary Elwes' character, Major Cabot Forbes. This man never existed! He is loosely based on a man by the name of Edward "Ned" Needles Hallowell. He was from a staunch abolitionist quaker family in Philadelphia, PA! He originally fought with the 20th Massachusetts and most likely gained his commission with the 54th because of his brother. Richard Price Hallowell was on the "Black Committee" with Gov. Andrew of Massachusetts to seek out officers interested in leading the all black regiment. This connection, and not likely a friendship with Shaw would explain his commission. Ned’s brother, Norwood Penrose Hallowell, was actually commissioned the Lt. Colonel. Ned actually recruited many men in the Philadelphia area, including two sons of Frederick Douglass.
By the time of the assault on Battery Wagner, and I’ll pause here. Yes, that's what it's called on original army topographical maps, of which I have copies. Not Fort Wagner. Also, the movie shot the sequence attacking from the wrong way. The ocean should be on their right! As I was saying, by the time of the assault on Battery Wagner, Ned was Lt. Colonel. He had been the acting second in command due to the formation of the second all black regiment, the 55th Massachusetts. This second regiment was formed, with his brother Norwood taking command.
Now at the end, we are not sure what happens to “Major Forbes,” but I can tell you what happened to Ned Hallowell on that day. He suffered three wounds and went home to recuperate. When he returned to the 54th, he was given command as a full colonel. Ned led the 54th for most of the remainder of the war, and was brevetted to Brigadier General after. He died at the age of 36 in 1871, most likely due to the effects of his wounds.
Did Cary do this man justice with his portrayal as a man of drink, afraid of responsibility, and lax with his discipline? Do you think Ned would have questioned whether or not the 54th would fight? You make the call.
Since this is becoming quite an ordeal, I’ll once again, continue tomorrow.
Part 3 in construction…
By the time of the assault on Battery Wagner, and I’ll pause here. Yes, that's what it's called on original army topographical maps, of which I have copies. Not Fort Wagner. Also, the movie shot the sequence attacking from the wrong way. The ocean should be on their right! As I was saying, by the time of the assault on Battery Wagner, Ned was Lt. Colonel. He had been the acting second in command due to the formation of the second all black regiment, the 55th Massachusetts. This second regiment was formed, with his brother Norwood taking command.
Now at the end, we are not sure what happens to “Major Forbes,” but I can tell you what happened to Ned Hallowell on that day. He suffered three wounds and went home to recuperate. When he returned to the 54th, he was given command as a full colonel. Ned led the 54th for most of the remainder of the war, and was brevetted to Brigadier General after. He died at the age of 36 in 1871, most likely due to the effects of his wounds.
Did Cary do this man justice with his portrayal as a man of drink, afraid of responsibility, and lax with his discipline? Do you think Ned would have questioned whether or not the 54th would fight? You make the call.
Since this is becoming quite an ordeal, I’ll once again, continue tomorrow.
Part 3 in construction…
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
'Cause we men ain't we...
So as some of you may have realized by now, not only do I enjoy civil war history, but also a good war flick, as I've seen and own about all of 'em. Well, last night after work, I decided to pop in Glory, the movie based on the story of the 54th Massachusetts and its commander Robert Gould Shaw. As I was watching, and picking out the little anachronisms as always, I began to wonder about a few things, and this is what I found.
The first thing I wondered about was the Antietam scene. Having visited the battlefield just last summer, I was trying to place where in God's name the scene was supposed to have taken place. It was maddening! So I looked up Shaw to find out what regiment he was with and where they had fought. It turns out he was with the 2nd Mass. at Antietam of Gordon's brigade with the Twelfth Corps originally led by Joseph K. F. Mansfield before his death. According to the book Landscape Turned Red by Stephen W. Sears, Gordon's brigade (2nd Mass, 3rd Wisc, 27th Indiana) was the one plugged into the gap left by Hood's counterattack in the center of the First Corps' line. Therefore, Shaw's men would have been fighting for/in the infamous cornfield starting around the Miller Farm. They also had to wait under fire as the broken regiments of Meade's division were milling about in front of them. There would have been no gallant march forward over clean open ground to a slight rise with little opening fire. The men of the 2nd Massachusetts would have formed up, marched up to the rise of the Miller Farm and would have seen the aftermath of the first fight for this part of the ground. There would have been the wounded, dead, and mutilated everywhere. Screams, frightened horses, and confederate buck and ball would have been waiting for them. There would have been no confederate shells bursting overhead, but Mississippians, Alabamans, and North Carolinians of Hood's division awaiting in tall corn; the corn being partially trampled, cut, and torn by previous fighting. To Shaw's left, he would see the men of Alfred Colquitt's brigade marching through the stampeding cattle of the Mumma farm to attack their flank, supported up close by two sections of artillery.
Quite a different scene, wouldn't you agree?
Worth mentioning also, was the retreat as Shaw was lying on the ground. The 2nd never broke and ran. They held their ground in the cornfield, and along with the 13th New Jersey, were the two regiments of the 12th Corps ordered to support Sumner's attack, which if you don't know the story, is one I don't have time for today. They were the regiments who found themselves fighting along the Hagerstown Turnpike where the famous Matthew Brady photos were taken. With no Sumner in sight, they about-faced in the presence of withering fire and marched back the way they had come in perfect order, noted by the officers in their official reports. Shaw had only been a Captain since the 10th of August of that year.
More to come tomorrow, including "Major Forbes" and the assault on "Fort Wagner"
To be continued...
The first thing I wondered about was the Antietam scene. Having visited the battlefield just last summer, I was trying to place where in God's name the scene was supposed to have taken place. It was maddening! So I looked up Shaw to find out what regiment he was with and where they had fought. It turns out he was with the 2nd Mass. at Antietam of Gordon's brigade with the Twelfth Corps originally led by Joseph K. F. Mansfield before his death. According to the book Landscape Turned Red by Stephen W. Sears, Gordon's brigade (2nd Mass, 3rd Wisc, 27th Indiana) was the one plugged into the gap left by Hood's counterattack in the center of the First Corps' line. Therefore, Shaw's men would have been fighting for/in the infamous cornfield starting around the Miller Farm. They also had to wait under fire as the broken regiments of Meade's division were milling about in front of them. There would have been no gallant march forward over clean open ground to a slight rise with little opening fire. The men of the 2nd Massachusetts would have formed up, marched up to the rise of the Miller Farm and would have seen the aftermath of the first fight for this part of the ground. There would have been the wounded, dead, and mutilated everywhere. Screams, frightened horses, and confederate buck and ball would have been waiting for them. There would have been no confederate shells bursting overhead, but Mississippians, Alabamans, and North Carolinians of Hood's division awaiting in tall corn; the corn being partially trampled, cut, and torn by previous fighting. To Shaw's left, he would see the men of Alfred Colquitt's brigade marching through the stampeding cattle of the Mumma farm to attack their flank, supported up close by two sections of artillery.
Quite a different scene, wouldn't you agree?
Worth mentioning also, was the retreat as Shaw was lying on the ground. The 2nd never broke and ran. They held their ground in the cornfield, and along with the 13th New Jersey, were the two regiments of the 12th Corps ordered to support Sumner's attack, which if you don't know the story, is one I don't have time for today. They were the regiments who found themselves fighting along the Hagerstown Turnpike where the famous Matthew Brady photos were taken. With no Sumner in sight, they about-faced in the presence of withering fire and marched back the way they had come in perfect order, noted by the officers in their official reports. Shaw had only been a Captain since the 10th of August of that year.
More to come tomorrow, including "Major Forbes" and the assault on "Fort Wagner"
To be continued...
Monday, April 13, 2009
Damn the torpedos!
I am a member of the Civil War Preservation Trust, and recently, while at work and bored out of my mind, I was reading their publication Hallowed Ground (Winter 2008 issue). Now, I haven't read or researched much into the battle of Mobile Bay, but as many of us civil war history buffs know, this is the place where Admiral David Farragut made the famous quote, "Damn the torpedos!" Which was actually, "Damn the torpedos! Four bells. Captain Drayton, go ahead! Jouett, full speed!" The order was is reference to the sinking of the Tecumseh amoungst the mine field before Fort Morgan. His fleet balked while running the guns, and began to back up directly in front of the fort. As the lead ships plowed ahead, sailers claimed to have heard faulty primers snapping as the lead ships hit the "infernal machines". While the thought of Farragut lashed to the rigging of his flagship, the Hartford, as it made its way through a minefield and cannon fire is brave, I was impressed to learn an equally brave action by his opponent.
Admiral Franklin Buchannon (incidently the only man to be given the rank of admiral in the Conferacy) was aboard the ironclad, CSS Tennessee. After several failed attempts to ram the faster wooden vessels of Farragut's fleet, he brought his vessel back to its anchorage off of Fort Morgan. While his men ate a quick breakfast, he ordered the vessel brought back up to steam saying, "We can't let them off that way."
The Tennessee charged at 4 knots directly at the flagship Hartford. As Farragut realized that Buchannon was not yet finished, he turned the Hartford directly at the Tennessee and ran at 10 knots towards the ironclad vessel. A slow game of naval chicken carried on for a full 15 minutes as the two admirals charged at each other like jousting knights of old. The collision would most certainly have destroyed both ships had it not been for the helmsman of the Tennesee veering just at the last moment so that the two vessels merely scraped hulls. Even though the Tennessee was the ship attempting to ram, she found herself the recipeint of several rams herself, including several by the Monongohela and Lackawanna, doing more damage to the federals that to the hulking ironclad.
Buchannon's ship plodded on, directly into the federal fleet, where the Tennessee suffered the full wrath of the union guns. Both sides suffered, the yanks less due to the constant misfires of the inferior confederate powder. Finally, the Tennessee was disabled as she lost her steering chains and smokestack, which left her unsteerable and without steam to power her screws. The USS Manhattan closed in and began to pound away with her 15 inch guns, bending the iron shielding of the vessel and shattering the oak supports, wounding many including Buchannon himself. Badly pummelled and dead in the water, the Tennessee surrendered.
Wow! Imagine something like that on the Hollywood big screen! If the movie Windtalkers made it to production, why can't something like this make it? Serioulsy? Anyway, happy Monday, another day another dollar...
Admiral Franklin Buchannon (incidently the only man to be given the rank of admiral in the Conferacy) was aboard the ironclad, CSS Tennessee. After several failed attempts to ram the faster wooden vessels of Farragut's fleet, he brought his vessel back to its anchorage off of Fort Morgan. While his men ate a quick breakfast, he ordered the vessel brought back up to steam saying, "We can't let them off that way."
The Tennessee charged at 4 knots directly at the flagship Hartford. As Farragut realized that Buchannon was not yet finished, he turned the Hartford directly at the Tennessee and ran at 10 knots towards the ironclad vessel. A slow game of naval chicken carried on for a full 15 minutes as the two admirals charged at each other like jousting knights of old. The collision would most certainly have destroyed both ships had it not been for the helmsman of the Tennesee veering just at the last moment so that the two vessels merely scraped hulls. Even though the Tennessee was the ship attempting to ram, she found herself the recipeint of several rams herself, including several by the Monongohela and Lackawanna, doing more damage to the federals that to the hulking ironclad.
Buchannon's ship plodded on, directly into the federal fleet, where the Tennessee suffered the full wrath of the union guns. Both sides suffered, the yanks less due to the constant misfires of the inferior confederate powder. Finally, the Tennessee was disabled as she lost her steering chains and smokestack, which left her unsteerable and without steam to power her screws. The USS Manhattan closed in and began to pound away with her 15 inch guns, bending the iron shielding of the vessel and shattering the oak supports, wounding many including Buchannon himself. Badly pummelled and dead in the water, the Tennessee surrendered.
Wow! Imagine something like that on the Hollywood big screen! If the movie Windtalkers made it to production, why can't something like this make it? Serioulsy? Anyway, happy Monday, another day another dollar...
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Happy Easter!
Yes! Happy Easter! I hope everyone has had a good day of hunting eggs and eating ham and imagining gigantic rabbits leaving goodies in baskets. Wait a sec, is this easter or some Timothy Leary dreamscape? Anyway, what with working and the family activities, I saved this little tidbit I recieved from a friend. It's my first post on a reenacting subject, specifically on correcting a little misstep that some of us call a "reenactorism," that is, something done and taught in reenacting that isn't neccessarily wrong, but isn't necessarily correct either. This one has to do with the order "support arms."
This is written by Marc A. Hermann of the Liberty Rifles, and is quite interesting.
http://www.myrtle-avenue.com/supportarms/
Now I have to get back to my horrible job, and fighting the urge to pull an Office Space and blow the place sky high! Ha, ha, just kidding, or am I?
This is written by Marc A. Hermann of the Liberty Rifles, and is quite interesting.
http://www.myrtle-avenue.com/supportarms/
Now I have to get back to my horrible job, and fighting the urge to pull an Office Space and blow the place sky high! Ha, ha, just kidding, or am I?
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Hindsight is 20/20
Today's post comes from the memoirs of Gen. Edward Porter Alexander, "Military Memoirs of a Confederate: A Critical Narrative." Should have gone to the...left?
"It seems remarkable that the assumption of Col. Long (of Lee's staff) so easily passed unchallenged that Confederate guns in open and inferior positions could "suppress" Federal artillery fortified upon commanding ridges...Comparatively the weakest portion of their line was Cemetary Hill, and the point of greatest interest in connection with this battle is the story of our entire failure to recognize this fact...There was but one single advantage conferred by our exterior lines, and but one, in exchange for many disadvantages. They gave us opportunity to select positions for our guns which could enfilade the opposing lines of the enemy...What has been called the the shank of the Federal fish-hook, was subject to enfilade fire from the town and its suburbs. There were and are others still easily recognizable on the ground. The salient angle is acute and weak...
From nowhere else was there so short and unobstructed an approach to the Federal line, and one so free from flank fire...Within the edge of the town between these two positions was abundant opportunity to accumulate troops and establish guns at close ranges.
As long as Gettysburg stands and the contour of the hills remains unchanged, students of the battlefield must decide that Lee's most promising attack from first to last was upon Cemetary Hill, by concentrated artillery fire from the north and assaults from the nearest sheltered ground between the west and northeast."
This is one of the first discussions of an attack on the left on the third day that I have seen or heard, and this from one of the most talented artillery officers of both armies, trained especially to have an eye for good ground. It's also interesting from the fact that Longstreet is the only one who gets credit/blame for a dissenting view of the plan for Pickett's Charge, but it seems as though the man in charge of the critical bombardment, and untimately the decision to begin the attack, also had a notion of imminent failure. I highly recommend this book, as it is one of the few which is not afraid to point out the mistakes and failures of ANV high command.
But then again, hindsight is 20/20...
"It seems remarkable that the assumption of Col. Long (of Lee's staff) so easily passed unchallenged that Confederate guns in open and inferior positions could "suppress" Federal artillery fortified upon commanding ridges...Comparatively the weakest portion of their line was Cemetary Hill, and the point of greatest interest in connection with this battle is the story of our entire failure to recognize this fact...There was but one single advantage conferred by our exterior lines, and but one, in exchange for many disadvantages. They gave us opportunity to select positions for our guns which could enfilade the opposing lines of the enemy...What has been called the the shank of the Federal fish-hook, was subject to enfilade fire from the town and its suburbs. There were and are others still easily recognizable on the ground. The salient angle is acute and weak...
From nowhere else was there so short and unobstructed an approach to the Federal line, and one so free from flank fire...Within the edge of the town between these two positions was abundant opportunity to accumulate troops and establish guns at close ranges.
As long as Gettysburg stands and the contour of the hills remains unchanged, students of the battlefield must decide that Lee's most promising attack from first to last was upon Cemetary Hill, by concentrated artillery fire from the north and assaults from the nearest sheltered ground between the west and northeast."
This is one of the first discussions of an attack on the left on the third day that I have seen or heard, and this from one of the most talented artillery officers of both armies, trained especially to have an eye for good ground. It's also interesting from the fact that Longstreet is the only one who gets credit/blame for a dissenting view of the plan for Pickett's Charge, but it seems as though the man in charge of the critical bombardment, and untimately the decision to begin the attack, also had a notion of imminent failure. I highly recommend this book, as it is one of the few which is not afraid to point out the mistakes and failures of ANV high command.
But then again, hindsight is 20/20...
Friday, April 10, 2009
A Grisly Souvenir
Since I am back to work on my rotating schedule, this post comes courtesy of Phantom Captain, and I must say, this is amazing....
Sept. 17, 1862. 9 – 9:30 a.m.
Near Dunker Church, Sharpsburg, Maryland.
Kershaw’s Brigade steps out of the West Woods to assault Federal positions just east and south of the church.
Sergeant Greenland (C Co., 125th PA) handed the colors to Captain Wallace, his captain, who stuck them in a tree stump behind Woodruff’s guns as the Confederates concentrated their weapons upon him. Kershaw’s survivors were amazed to see the officer standing, much less unhurt, following a volley of at least one hundred rifles at the regimental colors. Captains McKeage (G Co.) and Wallace hurriedly rallied their men and ordered them prone behind the battery before they started to return fire.
Tyndale’s Ohioans, to the rear of Monroe, prepared for the onslaught. A projectile exploded in the center of the 5th Ohio’s color guard. The men quickly raised the standards as the brigade instinctively rose to its feet along the crest and fixed bayonets. Tyndale’s line took aim as the South Carolinians neared the guns. At twenty five yards, they fired. Kershaw’s Brigade staggered, held for a few moments, then slowly retired to the West Woods, where joined by Ransom’s Brigade, they advanced a second time.
At that moment, Brigadier General George Greene (Tyndale’s Division commander) raced onto the field with Captain John A. Tompkins’ Battery (A, 1st Rhode Island). The Ohioans cheered as Greene rushed the battery through the left of the line and posted the pieces to meet Kershaw’s assault. The general rose in the stirrups and raised his hat to them.
Kershaw’s people started to close again on the Mumma farm. The brave Confederates charged across the Hagerstown Pike right into the muzzles of the two batteries and another wall of flaming lead sent them reeling back into the West Woods. As the smoke cleared and that sector of the battlefield quieted, the Federal soldiers stared in horror across the open ground to their front. The Confederate dead, mostly men from the 3rd and 7th South Carolina regiments, lay in windrows in front of Monroe’s and Tompkin’s smoking guns. The colors of the 7th South Carolina, having been shot from their staff, were draped across the still warm corpse of the last member of the color guard. Kershaw sacrificed over half of his men in the attack.
Wounded men writhed upon the ground. Private Tresse (B Co. 125th PA) waited until the last Confederate trampled over him before he picked himself up from among the dead and casually ambled back to his regiment. Private Fred Gerhard (D Co.) scrounged over the corpses behind the battery looking for a new weapon. He “swapped” his piece for a nicer one. While he was at it he “appropriated” a leather case, containing a knife, fork and spoon, from a dead Reb, whose eating days were over. He heard a wounded Rebel call out to him. Gerhard asked him what he wanted. The man asked to be put in the shade. Gerhard helped him to his feet and tried to carry the man off. When he discovered, however, that the Reb could not walk because he was partially disemboweled, he laid him back down. He saw no use in dragging a dying man to safety. Many other soldiers spent the lull in the fighting collecting souvenirs.
One of Tompkins’ sergeants shaved the fried brains of a dead Confederate from the muzzle of Thomas M. Aldrich’s cannon and kept them for a memento. Aldrich, who was unable to leave his gun, dejectedly watched Corporal Jacob Orth (D Co.) whose regiment, the 28th Pennsylvania (with the 111th Pennsylvania) had defended Tompkins’ right section from Kershaw’s attack, unwrap the standard of the 7th South Carolina from the corpse of the last bearer. Aldrich’s action won him the Medal of Honor four years later.
Taken from, “Antietam, The Soldiers’ Battle” by John Michael Priest. Oxford University Press, 1989.
Thanks for the submission! Oh, and I wander if the sergeant later picked up some fava beans and a nice Chianti...
Sept. 17, 1862. 9 – 9:30 a.m.
Near Dunker Church, Sharpsburg, Maryland.
Kershaw’s Brigade steps out of the West Woods to assault Federal positions just east and south of the church.
Sergeant Greenland (C Co., 125th PA) handed the colors to Captain Wallace, his captain, who stuck them in a tree stump behind Woodruff’s guns as the Confederates concentrated their weapons upon him. Kershaw’s survivors were amazed to see the officer standing, much less unhurt, following a volley of at least one hundred rifles at the regimental colors. Captains McKeage (G Co.) and Wallace hurriedly rallied their men and ordered them prone behind the battery before they started to return fire.
Tyndale’s Ohioans, to the rear of Monroe, prepared for the onslaught. A projectile exploded in the center of the 5th Ohio’s color guard. The men quickly raised the standards as the brigade instinctively rose to its feet along the crest and fixed bayonets. Tyndale’s line took aim as the South Carolinians neared the guns. At twenty five yards, they fired. Kershaw’s Brigade staggered, held for a few moments, then slowly retired to the West Woods, where joined by Ransom’s Brigade, they advanced a second time.
At that moment, Brigadier General George Greene (Tyndale’s Division commander) raced onto the field with Captain John A. Tompkins’ Battery (A, 1st Rhode Island). The Ohioans cheered as Greene rushed the battery through the left of the line and posted the pieces to meet Kershaw’s assault. The general rose in the stirrups and raised his hat to them.
Kershaw’s people started to close again on the Mumma farm. The brave Confederates charged across the Hagerstown Pike right into the muzzles of the two batteries and another wall of flaming lead sent them reeling back into the West Woods. As the smoke cleared and that sector of the battlefield quieted, the Federal soldiers stared in horror across the open ground to their front. The Confederate dead, mostly men from the 3rd and 7th South Carolina regiments, lay in windrows in front of Monroe’s and Tompkin’s smoking guns. The colors of the 7th South Carolina, having been shot from their staff, were draped across the still warm corpse of the last member of the color guard. Kershaw sacrificed over half of his men in the attack.
Wounded men writhed upon the ground. Private Tresse (B Co. 125th PA) waited until the last Confederate trampled over him before he picked himself up from among the dead and casually ambled back to his regiment. Private Fred Gerhard (D Co.) scrounged over the corpses behind the battery looking for a new weapon. He “swapped” his piece for a nicer one. While he was at it he “appropriated” a leather case, containing a knife, fork and spoon, from a dead Reb, whose eating days were over. He heard a wounded Rebel call out to him. Gerhard asked him what he wanted. The man asked to be put in the shade. Gerhard helped him to his feet and tried to carry the man off. When he discovered, however, that the Reb could not walk because he was partially disemboweled, he laid him back down. He saw no use in dragging a dying man to safety. Many other soldiers spent the lull in the fighting collecting souvenirs.
One of Tompkins’ sergeants shaved the fried brains of a dead Confederate from the muzzle of Thomas M. Aldrich’s cannon and kept them for a memento. Aldrich, who was unable to leave his gun, dejectedly watched Corporal Jacob Orth (D Co.) whose regiment, the 28th Pennsylvania (with the 111th Pennsylvania) had defended Tompkins’ right section from Kershaw’s attack, unwrap the standard of the 7th South Carolina from the corpse of the last bearer. Aldrich’s action won him the Medal of Honor four years later.
Taken from, “Antietam, The Soldiers’ Battle” by John Michael Priest. Oxford University Press, 1989.
Thanks for the submission! Oh, and I wander if the sergeant later picked up some fava beans and a nice Chianti...
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The Big Parade
Recently, several of my pards and I got on to the topic of the grand review at the end of the war, and how the two armies were recieved. I saw this article on the Authentic Campaigner, and thought that I should share it with you all. As a midwesterner, and western federal reenactor, it makes my heart swell with pride.
http://www.33wis.com/articles/pdf/Big%20Parade%20-%20Grand%20Review.pdf
My favorite line is that from the German ambassador who said of Sherman's boys, "With an army like that, you could whip the devil."
http://www.33wis.com/articles/pdf/Big%20Parade%20-%20Grand%20Review.pdf
My favorite line is that from the German ambassador who said of Sherman's boys, "With an army like that, you could whip the devil."
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
And it begins...
So I've been sending little stories and vignettes to some of my fellow "history nerds" over the past couple of weeks and I felt like it might be worth posting them here in the chance that others might find this interesting.
This comes from the personal memoirs of a one Robert Hale Strong of the 105 Illinois infantry, in reference to his time spent in a trench line along the Chattahootchie River during the Atlanta campaign. Having been advanced forward as skirmishers beyond the main line, Mr. Strong ecnounters a sticky situation...
"Just after we had crossed...some 25 or 30 men ran out from behind a tree and jumped into some timber below. It was so sudden we did not get a good look at their uniforms, and besides, all uniforms had begun to look alike what with the rain and sun always working on them. We could not believe that we were so near to the Rebs that part of them could be in our line, but I was sure they were Rebs.
'What troops are you?' I calls. 'Have you got behind?'
From up in the trees ahead, an officer says, 'What regiment are you?'
'One hundred and fifth Illinois,' says I. 'Who are you?'
'Come up into the line,' orders the officer.
Rickertt still thought them yanks and wanted to move up in line with them. I said no. This officer still continued our talk, with his men hid behind trees and ours behind a big log. All but me, I was excited and forgot to hide.
When the officer found he could not coax us up into his line, he stepped out and says to his men, 'Give them hell, kill them!'
All in one breath, he called to me, 'Come out here or I'll kill you!'
While his men stepped out from behind the trees and began shooting, our men jumped up and returned fire. The officer came right at me. He was not more than twenty rods away when he ordered me to surrender and leveled his revolver at me.
My gun was resting in my hand, uncocked, with the butt on the ground. At such times, one thinks and acts quickly, I knew I had no time to waste, so I brought my right foot up, pushed down with my foot until I heard the hammer snap as it raised into full-cock position, then brought my gun up and fired, all while you could draw a breath.
The rebel colonel, for he was a colonel, threw up his arms and over he went. But not before firing at me. His ball hit the log just in front of me and brushed my clothes. From the time he ordered his men to fire at us, and he and I fired at each other, was not more than ten seconds. It was all done in a breath, and we had the rebs on the run."
Hollywood couldn't have come up with this, eh?
This comes from the personal memoirs of a one Robert Hale Strong of the 105 Illinois infantry, in reference to his time spent in a trench line along the Chattahootchie River during the Atlanta campaign. Having been advanced forward as skirmishers beyond the main line, Mr. Strong ecnounters a sticky situation...
"Just after we had crossed...some 25 or 30 men ran out from behind a tree and jumped into some timber below. It was so sudden we did not get a good look at their uniforms, and besides, all uniforms had begun to look alike what with the rain and sun always working on them. We could not believe that we were so near to the Rebs that part of them could be in our line, but I was sure they were Rebs.
'What troops are you?' I calls. 'Have you got behind?'
From up in the trees ahead, an officer says, 'What regiment are you?'
'One hundred and fifth Illinois,' says I. 'Who are you?'
'Come up into the line,' orders the officer.
Rickertt still thought them yanks and wanted to move up in line with them. I said no. This officer still continued our talk, with his men hid behind trees and ours behind a big log. All but me, I was excited and forgot to hide.
When the officer found he could not coax us up into his line, he stepped out and says to his men, 'Give them hell, kill them!'
All in one breath, he called to me, 'Come out here or I'll kill you!'
While his men stepped out from behind the trees and began shooting, our men jumped up and returned fire. The officer came right at me. He was not more than twenty rods away when he ordered me to surrender and leveled his revolver at me.
My gun was resting in my hand, uncocked, with the butt on the ground. At such times, one thinks and acts quickly, I knew I had no time to waste, so I brought my right foot up, pushed down with my foot until I heard the hammer snap as it raised into full-cock position, then brought my gun up and fired, all while you could draw a breath.
The rebel colonel, for he was a colonel, threw up his arms and over he went. But not before firing at me. His ball hit the log just in front of me and brushed my clothes. From the time he ordered his men to fire at us, and he and I fired at each other, was not more than ten seconds. It was all done in a breath, and we had the rebs on the run."
Hollywood couldn't have come up with this, eh?
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