tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90385006732878944062024-03-29T05:16:33.168-04:00Our WarThis blog is about my new Civil War history, Our War: Days and Events in the Fight for the Union. Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.comBlogger342125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-21839717816691847542016-02-20T19:12:00.002-05:002016-02-21T07:30:36.247-05:00Sycamores, shadows and tall buildings <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sycamores and shadows, Feb. 20, 2016.</td></tr>
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One great thing about not-quite-spring in Riverside Park is that with the trees still leafless you can see the buildings up above. In all seasons but winter their motley facades hide behind the trees. They are gifts from architects and designers of another age.<br />
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The trees themselves are monuments. Since we lived in New Hampshire for 36 years, my wife Monique and I are accustomed mainly to birches and maples. Pardon the malaprop, but sycamores have grown on us.<br />
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Here are some pictures we took this afternoon. Don't miss the one at the bottom!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up the bank from the Hudson.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tall trees in the park, tall buildings on Riverside Drive.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sycamore bark</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riverside Church, where Martin Luther King spoke several times.</td></tr>
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<br />Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-2891532176497908182016-02-03T22:11:00.002-05:002016-05-30T20:09:51.808-04:00A walk through time and memory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin Luther King Jr. statue by the Chinese sculptor Lei Yixin.</td></tr>
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As a man of a certain age and generation, I’m not alone in realizing
how much like my father I have become. We were opposites – opponents – during
the 1960s. He rooted for Liston, Ali became my hero. He liked crew cuts, I wanted
long hair. He was indifferent to civil rights, I embraced the idea. An army
officer during World War II, he told his pals for years that I was West Point
material. When I said I’d defect before I’d go to Vietnam, he said, “Your
country calls, you go.” My mother had to pry us apart.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We reconciled as he aged. He became my biggest fan, and I
came to admire his bravery, honesty, reliability and calm. Now I’m almost 70
and he is nine years gone, but I know he lives in me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nevertheless, I was unprepared for his visit the other day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Legend on monument reads: 'Out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.'</td></tr>
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It was Saturday in Washington, D.C., one week after the blizzard. My wife Monique and I had set out
on a sightseeing tour, starting with a cab ride to the Martin Luther King Jr.
Memorial on the Tidal Basin. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The memorial was dedicated 4½ years ago. The Chinese
sculptor Lei Yixin created the statue, and a San Francisco design firm planned
the park around it. The effigy of King emerges from a huge block of Chinese
granite much as the four presidents jut from the face of Mount Rushmore. Behind
the statue the panels of a 450-foot wall bear quotations from King.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The wall is crescent-shaped, or arc-shaped, as a National
Park guide pointed out to us, suggesting one of King’s most famous statements:
“We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends
towards justice.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The words are familiar but inspiring, a reminder that King
was an orator of renown – maybe the last one in a country once famous for
oratory. The memorial’s emphasis on words suits the man it honors. It fits with
America’s history as a country created and shaped by written and spoken words.<o:p></o:p></div>
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King stands on an axis between the Jefferson and Lincoln
memorials. He stares sternly across the Tidal Basin at Jefferson, who wrote,
“All men are created equal,” the test of King’s time and ours. To his back is
Lincoln, who issued the Emancipation Proclamation and pronounced “a new birth
of freedom.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was, of course, from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial
that King delivered his “I have a dream” speech in 1963. “Let us not seek to
satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and
hatred,” he beseeched the throng on the mall.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Monique and I walked next to look for the place where King
stood when he spoke. Inside the Lincoln Memorial a veteran ranger leaning on a
cane told us there was a marker but could not remember just where. We did not
find it but would have, of course, had it occurred to us to use our iPhones. We
did see the landscape King had seen, now barren of humanity and covered with
ice and snow.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was on the last leg of the day’s journey that my father
showed up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I cannot go to the west end of the Mall without visiting
some of my names on the Vietnam wall. It had been a few years since I was last
there. We went to the books of names, protected by Plexiglas. In the early
years, visitors lined up before them, but not last Saturday. It stands to
reason that fewer visitors have ties to men on the wall. Monique helped me
scribble my names and their locations.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was drafted 50 years ago. Rather than take my chances of
winding up in the infantry, I enlisted for four years with the hope of avoiding
combat duty in Vietnam. It worked, but I lost friends and acquaintances in the
war. Assigned in 1970 to a support company at Fort Gordon, I also roved Georgia
and South Carolina on a funeral detail firing squad, burying Vietnam dead.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Twenty-five years later, as a journalist looking for a
column for Memorial Day, I contacted the family of Robert Louis King, one of
the men I had helped bury. He was an Army specialist killed in Pleiku on July
5, 1970. He had just turned 21. I did not know him, but after speaking with his
family, I felt I did. I certainly remembered his funeral in Anderson, S.C.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing with Nick Ut after a discussion at the Newseum. He took the photo of a girl running from a napalm attack in Vietnam. </td></tr>
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When I visited his name on Saturday, Vietnam was fresh in
mind. Monique and I had just attended a discussion at the Newseum in which four
journalists talked about covering the war. One of them was Nick Ut, who took
the photo of the naked 9-year-old Kim Phuc fleeing after South Vietnamese planes
napalmed her village. Before turning in his film, Ut took her and the other children
in the picture to Saigon for medical treatment. Kim Phuc nearly died of her
burns. She now lives in Canada, and Ut has stayed in touch with her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I thought about this as Monique and I descended into the
memorial to panel 9W and counted down to line 122 to find Robert L. King. Whenever
I go to the wall, I think: The presidents and statesmen who escalated and
perpetuated the war knew early that it was unwinnable. For nothing, they continued
to sacrifice American men and even more – far more – Vietnamese citizens into a
cauldron of death.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snapshot of Robert King (right) posted on<br />
website for Vietnam Veterans Memorial</td></tr>
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And now, more than 20 years after I observed the 25th
anniversary of Specialist King’s death in a newspaper column, here I stood,
alive and relatively well, having enjoyed 45 years of life that was denied him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I stooped and ran my fingers across his name. Straightening
again, I turned to a volunteer who stood by to assist visitors. I started telling
him I had fired the 21-gun salute at Robert King’s funeral. But I lost it – I lowered
my head and sobbed and I could not stop. The man said nothing. He edged away,
possibly to give me room. Monique put an arm around me, then gripped my hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe the first coherent sentiment I uttered to her was: “I’m
becoming my father.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dad ran a cemetery. One day he had an epiphany while staring
into the fresh grave of a young man killed in Vietnam. He had already buried a
few, all around my age. For some reason this one was one too many. He changed his mind
about the war. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The older he got, the more Irish he became, by which I mean
the more sentimental. He teared up often. He wore a First Cav baseball cap and
went to Memorial Day services in the Florida heat even in his late 80s, when a
friend had to go along to hold him up so that he could salute.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At the wall on Saturday I visited other names, too – boys I
knew. Like my dad, nearly all their parents are ancient or dead now. The wall
will always be a powerful symbol, but it is becoming a historical symbol –
understood to honor 58,000 victims of folly but less likely to revive their faces in memory. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It is mainly contemporaries like me who can still see the cheerful,
big-toothed Rusty Ford and the wiry, curly-headed Terry Newkirk or hear the
weeping of Robert King’s family. While age can steal and distort memory, it can
also enhance its power. I saw this in my dad, and now it’s my turn.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The King statue stands with his back to Lincoln and his front toward Jefferson.<br />
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Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-10004981426805785212016-01-23T17:10:00.000-05:002017-03-01T19:02:43.855-05:00A woman in uniform: Photos don't tell the whole story <div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boston photographer Samuel Masury's photo of Frances Clayton</td></tr>
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Let’s start with a short, intriguing newspaper story. Scott Preston
Hardy shared it with me this week from his collection of scrapbooked Civil War
clippings, mainly from Concord, N.H., papers. This clipping came from a page of
stories dated July 1-2, 1864. Here it is:<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
“A FEMALE SOLDIER – A woman was found on the street last
night at a late hour, with no means to procure lodgings. Officer Rand provided
for her at the station house. She gave her name as Mrs. Frank Claton, 30 years
of age, and said that her residence was in Minnesota. – From her statements it
appears that in disguise she served 22 months in a Western regiment, and also
received several wounds in battle. Her husband was a member of the same company
to which she belonged, and was killed last summer. On the discovery of the sex
of the distinguished soldier she was of course dismissed from service. She
seems to be of a ‘roving disposition’ and left on the Boston train this
morning.” <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is believed that a few hundred women fought in the Civil
War. Because doing so required them to conceal their gender, the numbers cannot
be verified and the stories are difficult to tell with confidence and proper documentation. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Details in the Concord newspaper story make the identity of “Mrs.
Frank Claton” clear. They also add a bit to the skimpy and shaky record
of her life during the Civil War. You can read a lot about her on the web, but
there are many discrepancies and scant sourcing.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her maiden name was possibly Frances Louisa Clalin, although
Clalin could be a variation of Clayton, as the name is spelled Clatin in at least
one important instance. She was from the Midwest, most likely Ohio, and married
a man named either John or Elmer Clayton. The Claytons might have had a farm in
Minnesota. When the war began, the stories go, Frances posed as Jack Williams, a
man, as she and her husband joined heavy artillery and/or cavalry units in
Missouri.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of the web stories about Frances include colorful
details. Many newspapers chronicled her war exploits based on interviews with her, but the details differed from story to story. It is hard to know whether her inconsistency or reporter error is to blame.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAERekFUEjVlVpDyD4XsX8i7vAs-fjg8FLVqMfzXC5zi3TyOzVJTnB9H1ooPmyVUqoMACznKRsu8fQEbi3x-t29fWXkYR6ttHFkr7M4G37GmDRp601p0GVX8dLHmtZkKzzlVnuUQMRvo/s1600/frances+clalin+clayton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAERekFUEjVlVpDyD4XsX8i7vAs-fjg8FLVqMfzXC5zi3TyOzVJTnB9H1ooPmyVUqoMACznKRsu8fQEbi3x-t29fWXkYR6ttHFkr7M4G37GmDRp601p0GVX8dLHmtZkKzzlVnuUQMRvo/s640/frances+clalin+clayton.jpg" width="392" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another shot of Frances Clayton, also by Masury.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A short narrative of a consensus of these stories goes like this: Frances was
wounded three times in battle during 22 months of service. After her husband’s death at Stones River (or Murfreesboro) in Tennessee on
Dec. 31, 1862, she disclosed her gender and left the service.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I searched the web for the original stories from which these
details were gleaned but found only one secondhand contemporary reference and a
few fuller ones in annotated histories. I found no record of an Elmer
or John Clayton or a John or Jack Williams from a Missouri cavalry or artillery
unit that fought at Stones River. Other accounts had the couple fighting at
Fort Donelson, but I couldn’t verify that either. Nor could I find proof of Mr. Clayton<o:p></o:p>’s death or Mrs. Clayton’s wounds.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A book titled <i>She Went
to War: Women Soldiers in the Civil War</i> includes this paragraph about Frances Clayton:<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“According to many accounts, Frances Clayton (also recorded
as Frances Clalin) enlisted in 1861 with her husband, John, in St. Paul,
Minnesota. They fought together for the Union in eighteen battles, until she
was wounded and John was killed at Stones River in December 1862. Elizabeth
Leonard writes that ‘Clayton was hospitalized with a bullet in the hip, and an
examination led to a discovery of her sex and her eventual discharge.’ In a pamphlet
used by famous woman’s suffragist Carrie Chapman Catt in her efforts to win
women the vote, D.R. Livermore wrote this about Clayton: ‘She was wounded three
times while fighting bravely for her country, and was once taken prisoner.
Could not such a woman defend her vote?’ ”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Carrie Chapman Catt was born in 1859, and her suffrage
activity began long after the Civil War. The quote from her pamphlet is from
her 1897 monograph “Ballots and Bullets.” It adds a detail mentioned in no other account I found (and thus doubtful): Frances’s capture in battle. It also gives an alternative story of
Clayton’s departure from the service. After her husband’s death in battle, Catt
wrote, Clayton “concluded to retire from active service, and on informing her
commander that she was a woman, received her honorable discharge.” It’s nice to think she was honorably discharged, but it seems unlikely to me.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bonnie Tsui, the author of <i>She Went to War</i>, goes on to say that <i>Civil Ceremony</i>, a 1996 play, was based on Frances Clayton’s wartime
exploits. A reviewer of the play wrote that despite the horrors of war Clayton
looked back on her service as the best time of her life. That’s the stage
character talking. Whether Clayton would have bought it no one knows.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
A 2002 book, <i>They
Fought Like Demons: Women Soldiers in the American Civil War</i>, gives the
most thorough and scholarly account of Clayton. Its authors, DeAnne Blanton and
Lauren M. Cook, found several of the newspaper accounts based on interviews with her and did their best to
piece them together despite their contradictions. They also put Clayton’s picture
on the dust jacket of their book. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInnCcJGknLBneEoLC90Bq5Pw2NDPdkT9mKKH7WSA1RqxH29oa4lGLwgfIiyN19MVEMBXljccBay3M0k-3GDakcu-w0vj9cT7qCHCr52WBuzmpYwe2avMt6fY7o_m8jdxIVfOpF0LW5RU/s1600/masury_image2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInnCcJGknLBneEoLC90Bq5Pw2NDPdkT9mKKH7WSA1RqxH29oa4lGLwgfIiyN19MVEMBXljccBay3M0k-3GDakcu-w0vj9cT7qCHCr52WBuzmpYwe2avMt6fY7o_m8jdxIVfOpF0LW5RU/s400/masury_image2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Business card of Clayton's photographer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
“Frances Clayton
took up all the manly vices,” they wrote. “To better conceal her sex, she
learned to drink, smoke, chew, and swear. She was especially fond of cigars.
She even gambled, and a fellow soldier declared that he had played poker with
her on a number of occasions.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Citing an 1863 <i>St.
Paul Pioneer</i> story headlined “An Amazon,” Blanton and Cook wrote that Clayton
saw her husband die right in front of her at Stones River but did not hesitate
to join a bayonet charge a few moments later. “Clayton stepped over his body
and charged,” they wrote. (The authors do not question the notion of a cavalry regiment
making a bayonet charge.)<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After Clayton’s discharge in Louisville in 1863, the book asserts, she began a
long journey to try to collect bounty money and back pay she believed she and
her husband were owed. Reporters interviewed her along the way. The <i>St. Paul Pioneer</i> called her an “accomplished
horse-man.” The <i>Clarion</i> in Princeton,
Ind., described her as a “very tall
masculine woman bronzed by exposure.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Apparently she told
one reporter she had lost her papers and money when a Confederate guerrilla
band attacked her train. She told another she had been wounded at Fort
Donelson, not Stones River. Blanton and Cook lost her trail when she supposedly
headed for Washington. They lamented their inability to clear up which regiment or regiments the Claytons had fought in. “Each newspaper gave
conflicting military information,” the authors wrote.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One web account,
typical of this hole in the story, says that “Elmer” Clayton gave his
wife a men’s suit and false facial hair before the two were mustered into Co. A
of the 13th Missouri Cavalry. The 13th Missouri regiment that fought at Fort
Donelson was infantry, not cavalry. The 13th Missouri Cavalry regiment did not muster until
September 1864. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The third edition of <i>A Chronological Record from the Creation to
the Present Time</i>, the
Englishman Daniel O’Gorman’s curious 1860s compendium, lists the <i>Missouri Democrat</i> as the source of his
version of the Clayton story. The <i>Democrat</i>
has Clayton resigning after her husband’s death at Stones River and walking “93
miles, from Lexington to Louisville, bareheaded and barefooted, tracking her
way in blood.” <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJKwXoP4EFZ4kcn-ycPu58BWEfcc0n5ClOMY1U6FsVWgLdsKNPIkAKZLhDntVn-KnyO9cZS7GoNyFe4GGuo1A7LhXoaAbAzXq6FfvVCh1imZQ0Hu0-DIKg5JinXrzfBUo64w0MccjVKw/s1600/masury_image1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJKwXoP4EFZ4kcn-ycPu58BWEfcc0n5ClOMY1U6FsVWgLdsKNPIkAKZLhDntVn-KnyO9cZS7GoNyFe4GGuo1A7LhXoaAbAzXq6FfvVCh1imZQ0Hu0-DIKg5JinXrzfBUo64w0MccjVKw/s400/masury_image1.jpg" width="326" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Samuel Masury woodcut by Winslow Homer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Clayton’s story, with many variations, is popular with
bloggers. Mainly that is because the most tangible evidence for it is
photographic. Both the Library of Congress and the Boston Public Library have
<i>Cartes de Visite</i> – the small photographs on cards of the Civil War era – of Clayton. She is in uniform in two, in civilian dress in a third. All the photos were taken by Samuel
Masury, an early daguerreotypist in Salem, Mass., who had a photo salon on Washington Street in Boston during the war.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the back of a photo owned by the Library of Congress this
information is penciled:<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Frances L. Clatin 4 mo<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
heavy artilery Co. I<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
13 mos cavelry Co A<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
22 months<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
This is consistent with
Clayton’s claim of having served 22 months, although four months in the artillery
and 13 months in the cavalry obviously fall short of 22 months. If Clayton actually
served that long, she and her husband must have enlisted in April 1861, right
after Fort Sumter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcpm45fq9-gcgIC1GfL9mzFDUcbBkwmTAwiyQODjYVOTD6oORYhBJVxFLywkFooqHZGw_YpF0iTSFGLd1kx3kl8SRL-tLavz6FlmxH3aHCil4_2-vK6kLLr3yz427ymA-dZwbwynjcZGE/s1600/clayton+photo+reverse+loc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcpm45fq9-gcgIC1GfL9mzFDUcbBkwmTAwiyQODjYVOTD6oORYhBJVxFLywkFooqHZGw_YpF0iTSFGLd1kx3kl8SRL-tLavz6FlmxH3aHCil4_2-vK6kLLr3yz427ymA-dZwbwynjcZGE/s400/clayton+photo+reverse+loc.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backmark of the Library of Congress CDV.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A couple of things about the photographs strike me as odd. For one, they were taken in Boston. No account of Clayton
I have read – except the Concord, N.H., story we began with – refers to a Boston
connection. Several, like Blanton and Cook, say that when last heard of, she
was headed for Washington, D.C.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
More important, I
think, is that the cavalry uniform Clayton is wearing in the photograph is
brand new and without adornment. What could this mean? Had she just bought it?
Is the photo from very early in the war? If so, what was the wife of a
Minnesota farmer doing in Boston? Had she acquired it after leaving the service
or borrowed it for the photo session? Was it a prop in Masury’s studio?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Which brings us back to
the Concord newspaper story. Although it omits more than it reveals, it does paint
its subject as sleeping on the streets and of a “roving disposition.” She lacked
the money for lodging but either already had a train ticket to Boston or enough
money to buy one. Or perhaps the city or a good Samaritan bought her a ticket <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The war story she tells,
at least as remembered by the reporter or the cop who told it to him, contains some
elements of the accounts of Clayton’s service sloshing around today. She is from Minnesota, served 22
months in a Western regiment (but one, not two), was wounded several times and
was booted out when her gender was discovered. The story says her husband was
killed “last summer” – the summer of 1863, which does not compute.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The tale of Frances L.
Clalin Clayton a/k/a Private Jack Williams is the kind of story we want to
believe. People striving for colorblind, gender-neutral treatment are heroes of
the American experiment. But census, pension and war records and many more reliable
corroborating sources are available. Someone with more time than I have should dig
into these and see if more can’t be verified about Clayton. I don’t suggest this is easy, but history is
not served by repeating secondary sources as though they were true,
especially when the story they tell is muddled in its details.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFAY7eXwrQt1MjGDXMUnnPVsLx3QSFufvak1v39CYDZ1XFC9HmHX59K7zx8aetHYvTEK_D0kTF3HyJCdfWqEo4xNaJtEWV-d80Xie9RQPevOt9pKqcZCUj740Uf7p2Cz62SQu_MjNqLw/s1600/30980u_enlarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFAY7eXwrQt1MjGDXMUnnPVsLx3QSFufvak1v39CYDZ1XFC9HmHX59K7zx8aetHYvTEK_D0kTF3HyJCdfWqEo4xNaJtEWV-d80Xie9RQPevOt9pKqcZCUj740Uf7p2Cz62SQu_MjNqLw/s1600/30980u_enlarge.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clayton in civilian attire, also by Masury.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-17380335236888996592015-12-04T18:46:00.003-05:002015-12-04T18:46:41.310-05:00A betrothal, a lover's anguish, a face<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
Here is a chapter from <i>Our War: Days and Events in the Fight for
the Union</i>, my book on New Hampshire’s Civil War history. In the book I
strove to show the big picture through a bunch of little pictures. The book’s
chapters are based on events of 50 days of the war as seen through the eyes of
the participants. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4o3AiM8DqYwuUomwLsfC1rYtXDVoAmZ-eK1cgilsx3ksOxMwB5oLAkmgLbiHQ1lYYd6QgfsLnYKaZUzscw5SZ65yi0fbtzNj5E_C1Xau2y5pdIHbdiiRsR41g69eQB0udNoZgfuBTn0/s1600/buzzell+cdv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4o3AiM8DqYwuUomwLsfC1rYtXDVoAmZ-eK1cgilsx3ksOxMwB5oLAkmgLbiHQ1lYYd6QgfsLnYKaZUzscw5SZ65yi0fbtzNj5E_C1Xau2y5pdIHbdiiRsR41g69eQB0udNoZgfuBTn0/s640/buzzell+cdv.jpg" width="414" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frank Buzzell in his new uniform. He was a corporal by 1864.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Some of these events
are personal, like this one, the story of a woman who has been hurt and perplexed
by her lover. Her name was M. Annie Thompson. She was from Salisbury, N.H, her
betrothed from the nearby town of Andover.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The reason I’m sharing
the story here is that, through my friend David Morin, I have just found a
picture of Frank Buzzell, the soldier in question. Many of the subjects of <i>Our War</i> are pictured in the book, but
not Buzzell. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I don’t know what you’ll
think, but when I saw him, I was not surprised that the man in M. Annie
Thompson’s life looked like this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
* <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
One winter’s day in
1864, M. Annie Thompson went to Andover, Corporal Frank Buzzell’s hometown, to
post the formal declaration of their intention to marry. A twenty-year-old
teacher, Thompson lived with her parents in nearby Salisbury. The groom-to-be was
off with his regiment and could not go with her. A twenty-six-year-old
minister’s son, he had been a farmer before volunteering with the Fourth New
Hampshire in 1861. But Frank Buzzell had a secret. He had just re-enlisted for
three years without telling Thompson. His decision had the potential to keep
the couple apart until early 1867.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
When Buzzell broke the
news by mail, Thompson found it a “kind letter,” but she had expected him home
in months and the prospect of more years of danger for the man she loved
brought her low. What hurt most was that he had acted on his own. She made this
point between the lines of her response to him on the pleasant Sunday afternoon
of February 21, the day after she received the news. She was so upset she could
not go to church that day, and it took her six pages to pour out her emotions.
“Oh Frank,” she wrote, “you do not know how my heart aches – how each beat is
laden with deep <i>deep</i> <i>sorrow</i>.” She hated the idea that
“another three years must wear away” before they could be together. And yet she
saw her pain as a sign of the depth of her love for him. “I never felt the need
of your sympathy and love as I do to-day – never knew before yesterday and
to-day how much I love you,” she wrote. She sometimes dreamt of him the night
before a letter arrived, as she had before his latest letter. He had talked
about re-enlisting, but she had hoped he would come home to her instead. “<i>God</i> knows I would have you do what you
think to be right and I would <i>try</i> to
help you tho it cost a <i>mighty</i> <i>struggle</i> with my own feelings.” She took
him at his word that his decision was best for both of them. “<i>I will not murmur</i>,” she wrote. And then
she murmured: “<i>Angels cheer your way</i>
– though <i>you will never know</i> how <i>hard</i> it has been for me to do so.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
She told him she would
be with him wherever the war took him. “Whenever you are <i>lonely</i>, <i>sad</i> or <i>weary</i>, then remember that Annie though
far, far from you still loves you and sympathizes with you in all your trials
and hardships.” Her hurt made her long for him as never before. “I love you as
ever and wish more than ever to see you and receive your loving embraces,” she
wrote. She hoped he would get the commission he wanted, especially if being an
officer made soldiering safer. She prayed for a furlough so they could be
together, even if only briefly. She respected him for becoming a soldier. “I am
glad that as things occurred to bring about this cruel war, you were one of
those who possessed sufficient patriotism to enroll your name among the many
that were bound to serve their country and strive to defend and protect its
rights. . . . Yes, I love and pity the poor, suffering soldier.” She did not
mean any soldier, of course. “Some day, I hope not far distant – may see us
happy together – but alas only for a few short days. . . . How I would love to
put my arms round your neck and say ‘good bye’ with a good kiss and receive one
too. Just imagine me doing so, and believe me to be – <i>yours</i> as ever.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Frank Buzzell knew a
good thing when he saw it. He came home on furlough even sooner than Annie had
asked him to. On March 20, less than a month after her letter, the couple rode
to Fisherville, where the governor’s son, the Baptist minister Joseph H.
Gilmore, performed their wedding ceremony.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Four months later, in
the trenches at Petersburg, a rebel marksman shot Buzzell halfway between the
right elbow and the wrist, shattering his ulna. A surgeon removed four inches
of bone. Buzzell’s recovery was long and difficult. Gangrene nearly cost him
his little finger, and in time both that finger and his ring finger became
deformed. The other fingers stiffened and curled so that his right hand was
useless. His arm atrophied.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In the unpredictable
way of war, Buzzell’s re-enlistment did not lengthen his service. True, his treatment
lasted until February of 1865, when he was discharged at Depot Hospital in
Concord, but it would have been long in any case. For re-enlisting, he received
a bonus, a promotion to sergeant, and the furlough during which M. Annie
Thompson became Annie Buzzell.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Frank brought home her
beseeching letter, and they kept it. Each added a note to the end. Frank wrote his
while still a soldier: “God bless you Annie B. I have kissed your name for I
wished to kiss you and could not.” In a corner of the same page, she wrote:
“This is the last letter that M. Annie Thompson wrote to F.A.B. and signed her
name.” She meant her maiden name, and to emphasize the point, she underlined
“Thompson.” </div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-86238037578457595662015-11-15T10:01:00.002-05:002015-11-15T10:15:10.327-05:00Nuremburg: a regime on trial<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 15pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">One of the perks of being editor of the <i>Concord Monitor</i> through eight New Hampshire presidential primaries was the chance to feed my interest in American history. There was the history in the making before my eyes, but there was also history history -- encounters with people who had held power or been close to it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoZILguiLVCc-oMMjPegx8uv372FrR_hTY8y2pdVw6xmkEabv-VsNHz302ScTtQ2aP1VRjnw5hogjCbUW5NvqSjBbsT3Jqb26KBGG7W66b78Ma9pSzDOGk-Nqg3_wv9Wm5N_FXBr91U4/s1600/chris-dodd-millhollin_528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoZILguiLVCc-oMMjPegx8uv372FrR_hTY8y2pdVw6xmkEabv-VsNHz302ScTtQ2aP1VRjnw5hogjCbUW5NvqSjBbsT3Jqb26KBGG7W66b78Ma9pSzDOGk-Nqg3_wv9Wm5N_FXBr91U4/s400/chris-dodd-millhollin_528.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sen. Chris Dodd in 2007, during his run for president.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 15.3333px;">It took little prodding to persuade Ted Sorensen, who came to Concord on behalf of Gary Hart in 1984 and Barack Obama in 2008, to tell Kennedy stories. </span>Al Haig's presidential hopes were nil in 1988, but he had been Richard Nixon's chief of staff and Ronald Reagan's secretary of state. When he came to the paper for an interview, he gladly expounded on the last days of the Nixon White House and on the day Reagan was shot.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">In 2007, Sen. Chris Dodd of Connecticut made a forgettable run for the Democratic presidential nomination. I was working as a reporter that year, my 30th and last at the paper. When I learned that Dodd was about to bring out a book of his father's letters from Nuremberg, I began agitating for a manuscript copy or the galleys.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">After they arrived, I wrote a story about them that ran in the July 15 <i>Monitor.</i> Tom Dodd had been a prosecutor in the Nuremberg trials. As the story recounts, his son had a personal as well as a political aim in bringing them out.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Chris Dodd camped out in Iowa in 2007 in an effort to win the caucuses and raise his chances in the New Hampshire primary. After finishing seventh in Iowa, he pulled out of the race.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Here is the story I wrote about his dad's Nuremburg letters.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><b>Nuremburg: a model of postwar justice that the Bush administration ignored</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">A white sheet covered an
object at the front of the courtroom in Nuremberg. On cue from the prosecutor,
Thomas J. Dodd, a guard lifted the sheet and revealed a shrunken human head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GTXrLEWT1iaZ-En7ksa2XYK7fUy0YVtiEURGzfxYegiVQuycL3QG0SVIsPNEFs1WVLOYfO2r4GyCpn02JXaxrfnFEz3t-rXYfrOlmApDDueFPmUXvDaCuf5lyVBaNW9rEs06jZfvDP0/s1600/dodd+with+head.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GTXrLEWT1iaZ-En7ksa2XYK7fUy0YVtiEURGzfxYegiVQuycL3QG0SVIsPNEFs1WVLOYfO2r4GyCpn02JXaxrfnFEz3t-rXYfrOlmApDDueFPmUXvDaCuf5lyVBaNW9rEs06jZfvDP0/s400/dodd+with+head.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas J. Dodd with shrunken head</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Nazis, Dodd told the shocked courtroom, had created this ornament. They had
hanged a Polish man for fraternizing with a German woman, removed his skull and
shrunk, stuffed and preserved his head.</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">It was December 1945.
Adolf Hitler's regime had killed millions of innocents. The Nuremberg trials
convened in the rubble of Hitler's defeat. Their purpose was to impose the
order of civilized society on the chaos of war, to show that the Nazis had not
just waged war but also committed crimes. Using a single stolen life, Dodd's
dramatic gesture crystallized the issues before the court.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd's son, Sen. Chris
Dodd of Connecticut, is running for the Democratic presidential nomination.
Often on the campaign trail he brings up his late father's service as the No. 2
American prosecutor at Nuremberg.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">At Nuremberg, the
younger Dodd says, the United States and its allies in World War II insisted on
the rule of law. They wanted to show the world in a court of law what the Nazis
had done and how they had done it. They wanted to make surviving Nazi leaders
pay. In a still-raw world, they sought to elevate justice over revenge.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">On the campaign trail,
Chris Dodd cites Nuremberg as a shining example but also as an example the Bush
administration has ignored in the struggle against terrorism.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Now Dodd is compiling
his father's letters home from Nuremberg for publication. Thomas Dodd wrote
more than 300 of them, and they give a detailed account of his encounters with
Hermann Goering, Wilhelm Keitel and other high-ranking Nazis.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd's letters also
provide a window into the future – his and the country's. He disliked and
distrusted the Russians, America's allies in World War II. “They are no
different from the Nazis,” he wrote in March 1946. His highest hope was that
the coming conflict with the Soviet Union would not be an actual war. In later
life, as a two-term U.S. senator, Dodd became a leading cold warrior.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Two other important
themes emerge in the letters. One is in Dodd's insightful observations from his
work as a prosecutor. The other is the longing of a husband and father to
return to his wife Grace and their children in Connecticut. It is to Grace that
he addressed these letters, which he wrote with energy and style, often just
after the events he had witnessed and participated in.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5fedSkAYFaohUGtlwTf1GmvNA-EagNLUrBoac0_MMPKWadDeCBlrBdPiEEWXjCFkRo4d6BzURHMei-aU1W1msqMhri4U5j0nVMVAGPxgKNNSYFxgN3XDe0rdjgogcLFi5wiD0yHgLmCE/s1600/dodd+thomas+nuremburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5fedSkAYFaohUGtlwTf1GmvNA-EagNLUrBoac0_MMPKWadDeCBlrBdPiEEWXjCFkRo4d6BzURHMei-aU1W1msqMhri4U5j0nVMVAGPxgKNNSYFxgN3XDe0rdjgogcLFi5wiD0yHgLmCE/s400/dodd+thomas+nuremburg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dodd at the prosecution table at Nuremburg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Chris Dodd was an infant
when his father left the States to take the job at Nuremberg. Later, as he
writes in the prologue to <i>Letters from
Nuremberg: My Father's Narrative of a Quest for Justice</i>, which will be
published in September, he and his five siblings were forbidden to go up to the
attic to look at the papers and relics his father had collected during his 14
months as a prosecutor of Nazis. Being children, they were too curious to obey
such an admonition.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">In the attic they found
pictures of emaciated bodies piled high, comic books demonizing Jews and even a
news photograph of their father holding up the shrunken head. As Chris Dodd
puts it now, long before knowledge of the Holocaust permeated the public
consciousness, he and his siblings knew a great deal about it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd encountered his
father's letters much later, after his siblings found them in his sister's
basement. He first read them in 1990, beginning on July 28, by coincidence the
45th anniversary of the first letter.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOr7QiFvMKRiuyU0Lv6eZcck1h5K6wZf3UzemMkGwC7fCLcc211vePAJRJU_h-yzKbB3su5U9ZbrQ9ta8CrBNwdXpbehmgq7eCAewF8DnDvF5nk54VA6c33MQ77k4QywjhRKbQXE5qfQo/s1600/nuremburg+after+bombing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOr7QiFvMKRiuyU0Lv6eZcck1h5K6wZf3UzemMkGwC7fCLcc211vePAJRJU_h-yzKbB3su5U9ZbrQ9ta8CrBNwdXpbehmgq7eCAewF8DnDvF5nk54VA6c33MQ77k4QywjhRKbQXE5qfQo/s400/nuremburg+after+bombing.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nuremburg after bombing raid in January 1945</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd and his siblings
only recently decided to make the letters public. Current events impelled them
to do so, Dodd wrote in the prologue. Thomas Dodd accused the Nazis of “the
apprehension of victims and their confinement without trial, often without
charges, generally with no indication of the length of their detention.” Chris
Dodd saw parallels at Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib and the secret prisons authorized
by the Bush administration.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">“The rule of law that my
father addressed at Nuremberg and the standards so eloquently expressed at the
trial can seem lost in an array of abuses, some of them committed by our own
country,” Dodd wrote.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Interrogating Nazis<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In 1945, Thomas Dodd was
a 38-year-old lawyer who, as a federal prosecutor in Minnesota, had been
involved in the hunt for John Dillinger, the notorious bank robber. He went to
Nuremberg to help a large U.S. legal contingent prepare the case against 21
Nazi leaders. Among them were Goering, Adolf Hitler's heir apparent; Keitel,
the Third Reich's top military commander; Franz von Papen, Hitler's first vice
chancellor; and Joachim von Ribbentrop, Hitler's foreign minister.</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Supreme Court Justice
Robert Jackson headed the American legal team. Dodd initially served as an
interrogator, interviewing Keitel, von Papen and others before the trial began
in November 1945. Unhappy with the “military caste system,” staff infighting
and other aspects of the work, he intended to head home once the case was
prepared. But he was appointed to the prosecution team for the trial and served
as Jackson's executive trial counsel.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Even from his own
letters, it is easy to see why Dodd rose amid the jealousies and squabbling of
the lawyers. A hard worker, he was sharp and seasoned at cross-examination. Although
Telford Taylor, a leading historian of Nuremberg, has questioned Dodd's
pretrial interrogation work, he excelled at sizing up the defendants he
interviewed.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">During a Sept. 3, 1945,
interview, Dodd caught von Papen, a former chancellor, lying about his role in
Hitler's rise to power. “His face colored ever so slightly, but years of
diplomatic deceit have given him excellent self control,” Dodd wrote to Grace.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Rudolf Hess, Hitler's
private secretary, had fled Germany for England during the war. When he appeared
for trial, Dodd pronounced him “completely balmy,” writing to Grace that Hess's
loss of memory was genuine: “He has suffered a complete mental collapse.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd's relationship with
Keitel, whom he interviewed many times, was complex.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">He described Keitel as “a
stupid opportunist with enough cunning to hold a job.” Keitel doomed himself in
one interview, acknowledging that he had ordered German troops to carry out “the
most brutal measures” against Russian women and children.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">But Dodd developed a
warm relationship with Keitel, once agreeing to a request to send a message to
his wife. “Keitel gets under my skin,” he wrote. “I know he is terribly guilty.
I know better than most men. Yet now I know him. He is so weak. . . . He is a
human being.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BWBv0iHD-S8tLa9YvgjCIZ8taUjjLURCEInYfo6e3MQRFenZMJqF-uzdgxuCDjxkhbDEn7L-IKQjidXEJhvlfigw8YsYHdL2078UB7NbMG4HK0GdH3v6HYNuGnmopE5FXz4_As2HNTM/s1600/dodd+crowd+nuremberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BWBv0iHD-S8tLa9YvgjCIZ8taUjjLURCEInYfo6e3MQRFenZMJqF-uzdgxuCDjxkhbDEn7L-IKQjidXEJhvlfigw8YsYHdL2078UB7NbMG4HK0GdH3v6HYNuGnmopE5FXz4_As2HNTM/s640/dodd+crowd+nuremberg.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The courtroom at Nuremburg (Dodd is at front left) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Gruesome discoveries</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Once the trial began,
one of Dodd's jobs was to establish that the Nazi regime had committed
atrocities. He had plenty of evidence, but he chose not to rely solely on the
Germans' detailed documentation of their own crimes.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">The day he unveiled the
shrunken head in court, he read from a document from Buchenwald in which all
prisoners with tattoos were ordered to report to the dispensary. The Nazis gave
lethal injections to the men with the best tattoos. Dodd illustrated what
happened next by showing the court lampshades made from the tattooed skin.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd's travels in Europe
included trips on which he saw more evidence of Nazi cruelty. In Prague, he
examined the guillotine and meat hooks used to kill enemies of the Third Reich
and move their bodies about. “Thousands were beheaded in that terrible place
which still smells of blood and death, some for the offense of ‘giving bread to
a Russian prisoner of war,’ ” he wrote.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Nearby, he went to what
was left of Lidice, a Czechoslovakian village that Hitler had ordered destroyed
as retribution for the assassination of a Nazi official.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">“The Nazis killed every
male in town, sent every woman to a concentration camp, and scattered the
children all over central Europe,” Dodd wrote Grace. “Then they actually
obliterated the place – they built a special railroad into it to carry off
every bit of rubble after they had burned and blasted everything and then they
graded the whole area and planted grass and crops so there is no sign of any
kind to show that there was any such place as Lidice. . . .<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">“The children are mostly
all missing. . . .The women of Lidice are searching Europe for their little
ones.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">When Dodd visited
Czechoslovakia, it was not yet under the Soviet thumb, but its time would soon
come.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">In his letters, he was
relentless in warning of the perfidy of the Russians. “The sight of them raises
my blood pressure,” he wrote to Grace the day the Russian advance party arrived
in Nuremberg. “You have no idea what goes on. They are beasts and worse. . . .
They are looting Germany of everything.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">As the Soviets occupied
German territory, he wrote, they first took all machinery and tools and then
all furniture. “The third week all men between 16 and 40 are shipped to Russia –
and all the time rape and violence are the order of the day.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">In March 1946, Dodd
wrote home about “a certain tenseness” in the air over the prospect of another
war. “Some think the Russians will attack us here and elsewhere in Europe
suddenly and with great strength,” he wrote. His own view was a wary optimism: “I
think we need not be at war. None of us can stand another one. The world will
be a total wreck after another – every city will be a Nuremberg.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><b>‘Desolate ruin’</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dodd's time in Europe
was not all business. He met heads of state and had an audience with the pope,
who approved of his and Grace's large family. He spent time with actor Mickey
Rooney and journalism luminaries Walter Lippmann and Henry Luce and broke bread
with a young reporter named Walter Cronkite. He went to the film festival at
Cannes.</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">He collected souvenirs –
a Nazi flag, bayonets, SS helmets for his boys. He visited Hitler's Munich
apartment, remarking to Grace that the Fuehrer had been there just the previous
Christmas. “All of Hitler's furniture and furnishings are there intact,” he
wrote.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd was also a witness
to the devastation of wartime bombing, Axis and Allied.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">He arrived in England
between VE day and VJ day. He wrote Grace that he had seen miles of “desolate
ruin” in the East End, where the poor lived. “Many are still there in partly
demolished areas. . . . They stared at the cab from eyes I could not meet.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Nuremberg – “the dead
city of Nuremberg,” he called it – was even harder on the eyes. Other than the
court complex where the trial was held, nearly everything was destroyed or
broken.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Dodd checked into the
best hotel in town.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">“The main part of the
hotel is not habitable,” he wrote. “My room is quite comfortable. The walls are
all ripped out – bullet holes in them – no glass in the windows. The ceiling is
half gone. . . . It is awesome to walk along the corridors and walk on a plank
over an opening three stories up, or to walk down a bit further and pass a
whole section of the building that is one gaping hole – no walls, just space.
There is no hot water, no heat, no nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Once the trial ended after
more than a year later, Dodd traveled from Nuremberg in style. He was
chauffeured across western Europe in the 16-cylinder Mercedes Benz convertible
that had once belonged to Joachim Von Ribbentrop, the foreign minister. “It has
everything but a bath,” Dodd wrote Grace.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">By then, the verdicts
and sentences had been rendered: death for 12 defendants, life in prison for
three, lesser sentences for three and acquittal for three. Dodd had left
Nuremberg by the time the sentences were carried out.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Goering cheated the
hangman, taking poison in his cell the night the executions were scheduled.
Martin Bormann, one of the condemned, had been tried in absentia.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Early on the morning of
Oct. 16, 1946, Von Ribbentrop was the first man hanged. The others soon
followed. They were photographed in plain wooden coffins with ropes around
their necks. Goering's body was also photographed. Two trucks carried the 11
coffins to the crematories at Dachau. The ashes were dumped in the Isar River.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">'A great landmark'<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Doubt about the
Nuremberg trials occasionally crept into Thomas Dodd's mind. Near the end of
the proceedings, tired and homesick, he poured out his frustration to Grace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">“Sometimes I get so
discouraged I wonder if any of this is worthwhile,” he wrote. “Was I a fool to
take on this long and difficult task while others remain at home and criticize
us because we try to make the waging of war not worth the risk? Is the world so
cynical, so deeply cynical as it sometimes seems to be?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">In other letters – and even
in this one – he answered his own questions. He stood up for the principles
that had taken him away from his family and envisioned a bright future.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">“I'm doing the right
thing and I feel sure we will not regret it,” he wrote Grace. “Some day it will
be a great landmark in the struggle of mankind for peace. I will never do
anything as worthwhile.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><b>Postscript</b>: </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">A search of the web indicates that in my story I missed a controversial quotation from these letters. Although the comments should be viewed in the context of their time, they shed light on how even some liberal Americans thought about Jews. They were written just over 70 years ago, on Sept, 25, 1945.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">"You know how I have despisted anti-Semitism. You know how strongly I feel toward those who preach intolerance of any kind. With that knowledge -- you will understand when I tell you that this staff is about seventy-five percent Jewish. Now my point is that hte Jews should stay away from this trial -- for their own sake.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">
"For -- mark this well -- the charge 'a war for the Jews' is still being made and in the post-war years will be made again and again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"The too large percentage of Jewish men and women here will be cited as proof of this charge. Sometimes it seems that the Jews will never learn about these things. They seem intent on bringing new difficulties down on their own heads. They are pushing and crowding and competing with each other and everyone else."</span><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-71664085008410248002015-10-17T13:44:00.001-04:002016-02-27T08:15:35.386-05:00A walk in the city: Trinity Church & the 9/11 neighborhood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWcMNltIhHwvicNgo76vrvrxE29XuCfef-fY5_5XjsqRopCDzCkrk1WSjipN9UvsTxWssaE215t0Zsmc3sb2pVT0u8LLmB9DQDdCUrVWU4JZktFBXrvJor6ZLA8n3XVg5AMY9o2c-JBM/s1600/nydt16.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWcMNltIhHwvicNgo76vrvrxE29XuCfef-fY5_5XjsqRopCDzCkrk1WSjipN9UvsTxWssaE215t0Zsmc3sb2pVT0u8LLmB9DQDdCUrVWU4JZktFBXrvJor6ZLA8n3XVg5AMY9o2c-JBM/s640/nydt16.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The winglike World Trade Tower Transportation Hub and the Freedom Tower </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our 28th floor apartment window faces south. In the distance
we see a shimmering presence in the night, alight but often ghostly, the
Freedom Tower. It stands on the site of the World Trade Center and bears the
address of one of the original towers, now fallen, World Trade Center 1.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0owMB60wU2jfuQV1U4FTFcPK-ULOHsAZ3vJe73B4PPTFyvZROLCTR3zwuYH3I2CVHuADma1Xf6_10tJFIpwcTykN-b8jCe8WIDRy1dpHR2KKk-RW8cOMKEl_l_p-YiiqnDuCJvpI3UKE/s1600/nydt13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0owMB60wU2jfuQV1U4FTFcPK-ULOHsAZ3vJe73B4PPTFyvZROLCTR3zwuYH3I2CVHuADma1Xf6_10tJFIpwcTykN-b8jCe8WIDRy1dpHR2KKk-RW8cOMKEl_l_p-YiiqnDuCJvpI3UKE/s400/nydt13.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eliza Hamilton's vault, Alexander's obelisk</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last Sunday we took the train downtown to visit the
graveyard of Trinity Church, which is in the same neighborhood. I’ve been
reading <a href="http://warmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/hollow-presidential-campaigns-are-old.html">and occasionally blogging</a> from the diaries of George Templeton Strong, who saw the Episcopal cathedral
being built (its third incarnation) between 1839 and 1846. He recorded its rise in the
diary.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Strong is apparently in a vault with someone else’s name on
it, but where? We couldn’t find it. Nor could we find the grave of John Peter
Zenger, champion of a free press in the 18th<sup> </sup>century, learning only
through a deeper Google search that his grave is unmarked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We did find the graves of Alexander Hamilton and his wife
Eliza. These have become a minor tourist attraction since the success of Lin-Manuel
Miranda’s <i>Hamilton</i>, a brilliant Broadway
musical based on an innovative but relatively faithful historical
interpretation. Fortunately Hamilton’s grave has not been overrun like Jim
Morrison’s in Pere Lachaise in Paris, but flowers, stones and notes had been
left there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The cemetery is worth visiting even without the celebrity factor.
It is well kept, and some of the stones have withstood the elements for
centuries. The words on them hint at such human stories. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXNjZkonI-dWL-w51dESI7kQLuO-qo-uK41QwCtUbZ_K4cppsXDb8NxDNsF4mSSwBegaaBYTmOQtsyds8RzKTrJK-bdR0n-6J_Kr-0-LORPgtg7vC1-2M7AZpwM5uAJk9EczI84mtfpc8/s1600/nydt8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXNjZkonI-dWL-w51dESI7kQLuO-qo-uK41QwCtUbZ_K4cppsXDb8NxDNsF4mSSwBegaaBYTmOQtsyds8RzKTrJK-bdR0n-6J_Kr-0-LORPgtg7vC1-2M7AZpwM5uAJk9EczI84mtfpc8/s640/nydt8.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The graves of Hannah Welsh and her 9-year-old daughter Elisabeth Rose</td></tr>
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The oldest grave belongs
to Richard Churcher, son of William, who died at 5 years old in 1681.
Side-by-side stones mark the graves of Hannah Welsh, died at 40 years, 10
months, 12 days, on Oct. 15, 1795, and Elisabeth Rose Welsh, her 9-year-old
daughter, gone 23 days later. How did James Welsh, the husband and father, cope
with such a loss? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwegzCGhc4mUNkdxPGdcxS6hFRDh-q398H2H1eLcppc7OK5CLOpskLo2G9pjJMWCDuWAN1-fV6JKIaHNxTH4Bgj5nF8egMSWI7RXG2uERz7AVwCNTHvH855BqnpHdppbDsycu6phqj8Go/s1600/nydt10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwegzCGhc4mUNkdxPGdcxS6hFRDh-q398H2H1eLcppc7OK5CLOpskLo2G9pjJMWCDuWAN1-fV6JKIaHNxTH4Bgj5nF8egMSWI7RXG2uERz7AVwCNTHvH855BqnpHdppbDsycu6phqj8Go/s400/nydt10.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve Tobin's Sycamore sculpture</td></tr>
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Beside the cathedral near the entrance to the south side of
the cemetery stands a symbol of another kind. During the 9/11 attacks, the
blast from the collapsing towers felled a sycamore tree in the yard of St. Paul’s
Chapel, several blocks from Trinity. The tree helped protect the chapel from damage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Steve Tobin, of Bucks County, Pa., created a bronze
sculpture of the sycamore’s stump and roots. In 2005, while making it, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/06/arts/design/uprooted-in-the-attacks-now-planted-in-bronze.html">he told <i>The New York Times</i></a> that he intended it
not as a memorial but as a work of art “to show the power of the unseen.” People
now walk between the roots and have their pictures taken before the sculpture.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is in some ways a jarring experience to walk around the
neighborhood of the church. This is the site of the great catastrophe of 9/11. It
is still being transformed into a grand cityscape of memorial, resilience and
resolve. It has also become a tourist attraction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On this bright sunny Sunday, hawkers sold booklets to help visitors
orient themselves to what used to be and to see how the damaged buildings in
the neighborhood looked right after the attack Excited people in open-topped double-deck
buses gazed and pointed upward.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the beginning of the inevitable transition from
memory to history. Some people walking the streets were not even born when the
towers fell, and many were young children. They are the first wave of visitors with no memory of 9/11. Many decades hence, every tourist will see the World Trade Center neighborhood as they now look upon a Civil War battlefield. It will be a place where terrible slaughter occurred, but the tragedy will be folded into history.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yet after having spent the last two anniversaries of the
attacks in the city, I found it disorienting to be in that neighborhood on a bright, pleasant fall Sunday. From close
by, the Freedom Tower looks majestic. So does the great white birdlike World
Trade Center Transportation Hub. The streets are alive. But the place also
seemed removed from the way 9/11 touched – and still touches – so many
people who live in and around the city.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZmxNwYQBVHLLcVY58LwHLcUehEcxaEsjBij_G1N04J2XgtteExFRhl3BiskhyphenhyphenNeTeDw2fJNFqoA-0uiukd2JIEDIwzfxpCPuEoe3cCOZyOrALVg5hTFg0cbvVX7yL9l-BGyNia1g42s/s1600/nydt3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZmxNwYQBVHLLcVY58LwHLcUehEcxaEsjBij_G1N04J2XgtteExFRhl3BiskhyphenhyphenNeTeDw2fJNFqoA-0uiukd2JIEDIwzfxpCPuEoe3cCOZyOrALVg5hTFg0cbvVX7yL9l-BGyNia1g42s/s640/nydt3.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New York City Hall</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzHfmVjSmH93_KoFcWZpsjKFVQwRdLjHs64i_TaVzaDPe0bv7FGEwdd9aJir9dD4Qgd_UXrp3HIwCEB9kwVI4i89QLf5ibjBDCxMJZRcvy37BMKJIWiF-AuHUxuiqvKH2-JypFGls4DY/s1600/nydt+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzHfmVjSmH93_KoFcWZpsjKFVQwRdLjHs64i_TaVzaDPe0bv7FGEwdd9aJir9dD4Qgd_UXrp3HIwCEB9kwVI4i89QLf5ibjBDCxMJZRcvy37BMKJIWiF-AuHUxuiqvKH2-JypFGls4DY/s640/nydt+1.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom Tower rises above neighboring buildings.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTzb0oeY-lhX1r3eh1Qa4us8XkJgKsL-jLA1c24PBpoDTj2nf7O6osvnd89OTfqGq3nvQePZzmvkiNqalSovbmNQdHe3xD_cBtPFwwZvfx-gPOnyt0E1gN0Fiwfsy5nR_3x-lE2GOSDQ/s1600/nydt14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTzb0oeY-lhX1r3eh1Qa4us8XkJgKsL-jLA1c24PBpoDTj2nf7O6osvnd89OTfqGq3nvQePZzmvkiNqalSovbmNQdHe3xD_cBtPFwwZvfx-gPOnyt0E1gN0Fiwfsy5nR_3x-lE2GOSDQ/s640/nydt14.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Robert Fulton grave, Trinity cemetery</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gravestones, Trinity cemetery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfK79L-gedaWyMtkZX_PDW2x8MAmSihYzIWBEmYwjx5p4lPh4nCrqrTt0Lbd7xnskDOl2tTflIZebbQG1C3EPbMVr48fMWRvQ8lY-zcf32sJ-0zE6OmC8IQ1rZ1Q6pz_4i4nlGwxjO2E/s1600/nydt12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfK79L-gedaWyMtkZX_PDW2x8MAmSihYzIWBEmYwjx5p4lPh4nCrqrTt0Lbd7xnskDOl2tTflIZebbQG1C3EPbMVr48fMWRvQ8lY-zcf32sJ-0zE6OmC8IQ1rZ1Q6pz_4i4nlGwxjO2E/s640/nydt12.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alexander Hamilton's epitaph, Trinity Church Cemetery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6Vdl09pMlqtxKCqdnMGeloc1aRfm5rhjZL4n67iSqhGeGnmA78HqbktWSFEvGxDS129RgrYk_fidWJwELuJfi8HaJnpm2MxXznfsREvjDf7lSvBMZFtkIKEgdrrgAfTzNQZnGPYPS6w/s1600/nydt2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6Vdl09pMlqtxKCqdnMGeloc1aRfm5rhjZL4n67iSqhGeGnmA78HqbktWSFEvGxDS129RgrYk_fidWJwELuJfi8HaJnpm2MxXznfsREvjDf7lSvBMZFtkIKEgdrrgAfTzNQZnGPYPS6w/s640/nydt2.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Woolworth Building, built in 1913, now a luxury condominium building.</td></tr>
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<o:p></o:p>Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-87284239127030706852015-10-10T18:44:00.000-04:002015-10-10T18:44:04.192-04:00Autumn in New YorkA fall day at <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cloisters">The Cloisters</a> with my sweetheart . . .<br />
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<br />Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-30547173894023332272015-10-03T14:59:00.002-04:002015-10-06T07:23:33.220-04:00Fire! George T. Strong describes 'an igneous night' <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bKEUTg317J8g6sEMzis-jX4SIEB78hC8LwOTktbTsdsFm81YTogRg8VtBzVSwTdI5a4-tdf7RySt350ZYmJqcEblJ80mjb6Wgs69DWwzU5IByaQURJUsZ5uQxxOj_3IQo7FKvV0PZOs/s1600/1835_Great_Fire_of_New_York.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bKEUTg317J8g6sEMzis-jX4SIEB78hC8LwOTktbTsdsFm81YTogRg8VtBzVSwTdI5a4-tdf7RySt350ZYmJqcEblJ80mjb6Wgs69DWwzU5IByaQURJUsZ5uQxxOj_3IQo7FKvV0PZOs/s640/1835_Great_Fire_of_New_York.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New York's Great Fire of 1835, as seen from Williamsburg in Brooklyn.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
George Templeton Strong, the 19th century New York City
diarist, loved to chase fires. He lived in a place and time place rich in fire
hazard. Many a night the alarm bells, the smell of smoke or the lurid
flame-painted sky called him to some ravaging conflagration.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Strong began keeping his diary at the age of 15 in 1835.
That December, the Great New York Fire destroyed 17 blocks and an estimate 600
buildings. Strong made only passing mention of this fire in his diary. He
missed another famous fire in 1865 when Phineas T. Barnum’s American Museum at
Broadway and Ann Street burned.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-t_UD24YhuHk8MMc8pPpENCgRwxaBTS2PFe5-QJLvbY9IZyDOx-GJk3KETLglwSRp8a9ptfGUd6sAUHMyb21iJblc797jTCZRR9bSStJZLE6N7gMtD7iJNCluxiOGCrb4jhnw0aY5pxc/s1600/july+13+1865+barnums+amer+museum+destroyed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-t_UD24YhuHk8MMc8pPpENCgRwxaBTS2PFe5-QJLvbY9IZyDOx-GJk3KETLglwSRp8a9ptfGUd6sAUHMyb21iJblc797jTCZRR9bSStJZLE6N7gMtD7iJNCluxiOGCrb4jhnw0aY5pxc/s400/july+13+1865+barnums+amer+museum+destroyed.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The P.T. Barnum museum fire in 1865</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On many another day or night, Strong rushed to the scene of
a fire. Here is a typically vivid account of a busy night:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Jan. 27, 1840</i></b> – This has been an igneous evening. When I left
the office at half-past seven, there was a fire in Broad Street, or rather in
Water near Broad. . . . I didn’t stay to see the end of the combustion, for
there were so many “soap locks” and “round rimmers” and other amiable persons
there congregated, and so much hustling and swearing and rowdying going on,
that I concluded to clear out – and walked out for a ramble uptown. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Got a little way up when I saw that another fire which had
broken out an hour or so before in South Street was making quite a show and the
temptation was irresistible so I made for the scene of action, the corner of
Dover Street. I couldn’t get in front of the fire and was unable to make out
whether two or three stores were burning, but it was quite a showy affair: the
fire reflected on the snow and lighted up the masts and rigging of the ships,
the groups of firemen on the docks with their engine and lamps, the crowd and
bustle in front of the buildings, the raging fire, and just above it the cupola
of Thomas H. Smith’s big store blazing away and half-hidden by the eddying
smoke – altogether made quite a display.
Thomas H.’s store I think must have been saved; I didn’t stay to see the finale,
being rather tired of wet feet and obstreperous rowdies. . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At three o’clock [this morning] I was waked by a furious
alarm of fire which seemed so near and so terrible that I roused the old
gentleman and we bundled on our clothes and made streaks. On reaching Wall
Street we saw it wasn’t there, but the cinders were showering down like a
snow-storm in Pandemonium or a “sulphur shower” in Padalon, and the fire shown
as brightly on top of the Exchange and other elevated buildings as if it were
only one block off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It <i>was</i> the Thomas
H. Smith store, probably the finest and largest, twice over, in the city, and I
never saw such a scene as Peck Slip presented: the store extending from South
to Front Streets was burning like a volcano, one body of fire from top to
bottom. It was crammed with hemp, cotton, and tea, and the fire was so intense
it was impossible to come near it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were only two engines and perhaps a couple of hundred
men. Several other stores had caught and were burning fiercely; in fact the
whole block was on fire from Smith’s store to Dover Street, but everything else
sank into insignificance before the big store. It seemed as if the whole area,
where the roof had been, 50 feet by 200, wasn’t wide enough for the flames to
get out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Jan. 28, 1840</i></b> – The loss last night is estimated at $1,500,000.
Everything from Smith’s store to Dover Street on South and Front Streets has
gone <i>in fumo</i>. Went down to the scene
of action with George Anthon; they were demolishing walls, etc., and I noticed
in pulling down a five-story brick front, entirely supported by side-walls,
that a rope passed in at the fourth story window and out at the third so as to
form a noose, when pulled through the wall shook and tottered and cracked in
every direction, actually <i>tore</i> through
the wall intermediate the windows, as if it had been made of wet paper,
bringing out just bricks enough to come through – a pretty specimen certainly
of modern masonry.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Smith’s store still burning fiercely. Two whole cargoes of
tea in it just in from Canton, and I noticed the melted lead of the chests
streaming down from the piles of ignited matter that are piled within the
ruins. It is most fortunate that there was no wind when the fire took place.
Had there been any, half the city might have been used up, as the firemen were
exhausted and totally inefficient. As it is, the shipping seems to have escaped
by miracle; they were mostly frozen in and couldn’t be hauled out of the docks.</div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-17647099932958898972015-10-01T07:06:00.001-04:002015-10-03T11:57:17.913-04:00Winant's war, FDR's choice, a sad demise<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the second of a two-part post on John G. Winant,
U.S. ambassador to Great Britain during World War II. <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/fdrs-man-in-london-idealist-at-war.html">Part one is here</a>. The series was written at the time of the publication of Lynne Olson’s book <i>Citizens of London</i>, which tells Winant’s wartime history. A campaign is underway now to erect a statue of Winant on the lawn of the State Library in
Concord, N.H., his hometown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnKWpiCnwujwQhGXTomHPj6pb4_D9JZmbYHiOHGUrz1p0E5-y-ac1h0e0zj7B10jcdtESoY2NrSFK28IK7ESDx4FMT6TjQw2p0DAEFP1mgzzCpKqh3nSCSkUYGK5eqyxKZA5AR10nQMo/s1600/winant+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnKWpiCnwujwQhGXTomHPj6pb4_D9JZmbYHiOHGUrz1p0E5-y-ac1h0e0zj7B10jcdtESoY2NrSFK28IK7ESDx4FMT6TjQw2p0DAEFP1mgzzCpKqh3nSCSkUYGK5eqyxKZA5AR10nQMo/s640/winant+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John G. Winant gave his all for the war effort, raising is profile in the eyes of Franklin D. Roosevelt.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h2>
‘One of the great what-ifs of American history’</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Never was more demanded of the U.S. ambassador to Great
Britain than during World War II. And no one could have defined the job more
broadly than John Winant, the Concord man who held it throughout his country’s nearly
four years at war.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anything Winant might do to hasten victory, he did. He
served as Franklin Roosevelt's chief liaison with Winston Churchill. He
presented the caring face of the United States to the people of England. When
Americans crowded into Britain to bomb and invade the continent, he became
Dwight Eisenhower’s unofficial deputy in seeing to the needs of the GIs. As the
war neared its end, his thoughts turned to the future of Europe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Roosevelt came to appreciate Winant so much that he wanted
him for a running mate in 1944. If Roosevelt had had his way, Winant would have
been president.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTTydl9__n3zEOsff_rRp02mTjePUIhFkgDfC9QcXQiKkH2GWgmCmwkFgHEW8imlWfYGByEnCzENhyGz9eBgVs_m-Bcrr-6sYK7-q8MnBYvD_5z_z7lEU6k9CGZKfjnSCR3rHVJ1Gqvc/s1600/winant+with+fdr+yalta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTTydl9__n3zEOsff_rRp02mTjePUIhFkgDfC9QcXQiKkH2GWgmCmwkFgHEW8imlWfYGByEnCzENhyGz9eBgVs_m-Bcrr-6sYK7-q8MnBYvD_5z_z7lEU6k9CGZKfjnSCR3rHVJ1Gqvc/s400/winant+with+fdr+yalta.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winant is seated left, talking with FDR before the Yalta conference in 1944.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lynne Olson tells Winant’s story in <i>Citizens of London</i>, her book about the architects of the
U.S.-British World War II alliance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One measure of the lengths Winant went to as ambassador
began with his reunion with Tommy Hitchcock, who had studied American history
under Winant at St. Paul’s School during the teens. Their joint campaign saved
the lives of many American fliers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hitchcock was an investment banker who had been known during
the 1920s as the Babe Ruth of polo. Although polo was not exactly America’s
game, Hitchcock became such a celebrity that F. Scott Fitzgerald based
characters on him in two novels.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At St. Paul’s, Hitchcock admired his history teacher for his
stories about Abraham Lincoln and other great Americans and for his progressive
social views. Just 17, Hitchcock, like Winant, left school to join the military
as an aviator during World War I.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During World War II, the Germans shot down American bombers
with stunning frequency. By war’s end, 26,000 bomber crew members would be
killed and many more captured or wounded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant and Hitchcock shared a conviction about reducing this
carnage. Once the bombers crossed the English Channel, they headed inland
without fighter escorts. Winant and Hitchcock believed they needed them, and
Hitchcock identified just the plane for the job. He even flew it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The plane was the P-51 Mustang, built in California for the
Royal Air Force. In speed and maneuverability, it more than matched the German
fighters. All it needed was more power. A Rolls Royce Merlin engine produced in
Britain could remedy that. If ever a military alliance seemed suited to fix a
problem, this was it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu3aLnHSArfVLl_1Nr_dpTGqqnhXMh_dsPDDS11DhmH8GEn2hSfz0JBVUKzVWcJrSOI8fC-hBDaFBi53YsMffrZrNpaZcOuPlcDx5MUYcEfndz3nO1igOskyMjc4vT5AZO7AilksZCRU/s1600/winant+hitchcock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu3aLnHSArfVLl_1Nr_dpTGqqnhXMh_dsPDDS11DhmH8GEn2hSfz0JBVUKzVWcJrSOI8fC-hBDaFBi53YsMffrZrNpaZcOuPlcDx5MUYcEfndz3nO1igOskyMjc4vT5AZO7AilksZCRU/s400/winant+hitchcock.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tommy Hitchcock, Winant's former student and<br />
fellow World War I aviator.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only obstacle was official obstinacy. The Air Force
brass opposed the idea, and Winant and Hitchcock lobbied for months to change
minds. By one account, Winant “pushed the very daylights” out of those he
thought could help.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually the two men won the debate, but the brass failed
to make production of the Mustangs a priority. It wasn't until early 1944, just
before D-Day, that the fighters arrived in sufficient quantity to protect the
bombers and, eventually, give the Allies control of the skies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By then, a personal nightmare had compounded Winant’s many
official worries. On Oct. 10, 1943, 22-year-old John Winant Jr.’s B-17 was shot
down on a raid to Munster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fate of the ambassador’s son was unknown for weeks. Even
when Winant learned that John Jr. was alive, his concern did not end. As a VIP
prisoner of war, John Jr. might become a bargaining chip for the Germans or
even be executed in revenge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“For the rest of the war, Winant worried that because he was
the ambassador, his son might be killed,” Olson said in a recent telephone
interview.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<h3>
The alliance</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant could not allow this personal blow to slow the pace
of his work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He now had to deal with friction between the hordes of brash
young Americans quartered in Britain and the Britons they had come to save. To
bridge the cultural gap, Winant traveled widely to teach the British about
American ways. He started a BBC radio program called <i>Let's Get Acquainted</i>. When he spoke with Americans, which was
often, he always gave the same advice: Get to know the British.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Frequently Winant took to the streets of London to ask GIs
how things were going. He lent them money, asked them to write him if they ran
into problems and sometimes allowed those who couldn’t find rooms to sleep on
the floor of his flat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZtxsC6O6T24n6676VfgJjF1W-3m2PRTmOSnOfkWWRcQROnctKjaiusCz4T7QrCpTPmsAeLEOdIgW6fZNqgguOYXdsRPzBPvqEGwEGi97lTHzL9z6P55VjEQB81b3e5TMngzSrMqy9-M/s1600/winant+with+ike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZtxsC6O6T24n6676VfgJjF1W-3m2PRTmOSnOfkWWRcQROnctKjaiusCz4T7QrCpTPmsAeLEOdIgW6fZNqgguOYXdsRPzBPvqEGwEGi97lTHzL9z6P55VjEQB81b3e5TMngzSrMqy9-M/s400/winant+with+ike.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ike with the Winants. John G. had married Constant Rivington Russell in<br />
1919. Her father, a New York financier and philanthropist, died shortly before<br />
the wedding, leaving her a large inheritance.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although their personalities differed, Eisenhower and Winant
worked closely together. For both men, “the holy grail was that this alliance
succeed,” Olson said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Among the issues on which Eisenhower welcomed the
ambassador's help was race. Generally reserved and polite, African-American soldiers
tended to be more like their English hosts than like white GIs, Olson writes.
The English were relatively color-blind, the Americans mired in the Jim Crow
era. Racial strife among the soldiers was rampant.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant recruited both Janet Murrow, the wife of radio
newsman Edward R. Murrow, and Roland Hayes, a famed black tenor, to travel
around England and gather information about the treatment of African-American
soldiers. Although Winant could not solve the race problem, he made certain a
detailed report on racism in the ranks reached Eleanor Roosevelt and higher-ups
in the administration.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<h3>
Second fiddle</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Along with the soldiers, scores of officials from U.S.
government agencies invaded London. Coordinating their work fell to Winant. He
seemed ill-equipped to succeed at this task. For years, observers rolled their
eyes over his absent-minded blundering as an administrator. He once forgot
Churchill was coming for dinner, and when the prime minister arrived, there was
no food in the house.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But by one contemporary account, Winant brought harmony to
the diverse work of the federal agencies in London. A reporter who wrote about
the U.S. government operation was surprised at how favorably “the Winant system”
compared with the bureaucratic “feuding grounds” in Washington.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the U.S. buildup accelerated, Winant also tended to
Churchill’s bruised pride. Although the prime minister had long for U.S. entry
into the war, it lowered his status. Once the last great symbol of Western
Europe’s defiance of German aggression, he was now the junior partner in a vast
military alliance. Winant was present at the Tehran conference in 1943, where
Roosevelt snubbed and even mocked Churchill while trying in vain to woo Stalin.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About this time Winant was appointed to an Allied commission
to plan for the occupation of Germany. His prewar experience in Geneva and his
posting in London, where several European leaders waited in exile, gave him a
good grasp of the players and the possibilities. He was keenly interested in
postwar planning – far more so than the Roosevelt administration, which ignored
and even undermined his mission.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For these and other slights Winant blamed Roosevelt's
advisers, not Roosevelt himself. “He was loyal to FDR no matter what,” Olson
said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<h3>
Running mate?</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Roosevelt respected Winant, too. Although the president was
more pragmatic than Winant and sometimes poked fun at Winant's idealism, he
also knew that Winant, a Republican, had sacrificed his political career for
the New Deal at home and served the country faithfully abroad. When FDR decided
to seek a fourth term as president, he floated Winant’s name as a possible
running mate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In an interview, Olson speculated that the idea occurred to
Roosevelt simply because he believed Winant would make a good president. He had
been loyal, hard-working, inspirational and effective. In New Hampshire, he had
been popular with voters and had succeeded in several initiatives that cut
against his state’s conservative grain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z7gRgT4b7WhmC-tX3ta2Q6tv1AfGcK6RGI_BM00b7FPn93HjjgJ0cN3_TNWX71K4PUAFIpvYkbOmHhlrlMJCj_H9pQglSbSlWDjfW6vpcT_v2pbXVl2H53QfJW-YkNu_MPFfgWe6R9A/s1600/winant+nevins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z7gRgT4b7WhmC-tX3ta2Q6tv1AfGcK6RGI_BM00b7FPn93HjjgJ0cN3_TNWX71K4PUAFIpvYkbOmHhlrlMJCj_H9pQglSbSlWDjfW6vpcT_v2pbXVl2H53QfJW-YkNu_MPFfgWe6R9A/s320/winant+nevins.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The historian Allan Nevins</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Michael Birkner, a historian at Gettysburg College, also
shed light on the matter. Years ago, in the papers of the historian Allan
Nevins at Columbia, Birkner found Nevins’s notes from a 1957 interview with Ed
Pauley, the California oilman who ran the 1944 Democratic convention.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Pauley told Nevins he and other leading Democrats believed
Roosevelt would die in office and found Vice President Henry Wallace too flaky
to be president. Several alternatives were considered, but Pauley identified
Winant as Roosevelt's first choice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Because Winant was not a Democrat, Pauley found this “preposterous.”
When Roosevelt brought Winant’s name up, Pauley attacked, saying Winant had
shown no organizational skills in London and had “no ability to speak.”</div>
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<br />
Roosevelt backed down, and Pauley pushed through his crony, Sen. Harry Truman.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It is interesting to consider how different history might
have been had Winant been chosen. With Truman as his running mate, FDR won a
comfortable victory over Thomas Dewey. When Roosevelt died three months after
the inauguration, Truman became president.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Quite fascinating, isn’t it, that America’s greatest vote-getter
of the 20th century wasn’t allowed to choose his own running mate in 1944?” Birkner
said. “As for Winant, one of the great what-ifs of American history without a
doubt.”</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZfWGa4_e_c2JPgYMyXXdypmQqciVDKjf5kQe_Jf-G4r1Jp06F-8wi5BYNDbtiM8-9rspNrF6ntnYerq0rlmZF3aet53DJmX72fVTlaIpQHsX_k8w9cuTLJcZZTxxC4QOgxFTMD3D7mY/s1600/Winant+letter+to+FDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZfWGa4_e_c2JPgYMyXXdypmQqciVDKjf5kQe_Jf-G4r1Jp06F-8wi5BYNDbtiM8-9rspNrF6ntnYerq0rlmZF3aet53DJmX72fVTlaIpQHsX_k8w9cuTLJcZZTxxC4QOgxFTMD3D7mY/s1600/Winant+letter+to+FDR.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little more than a month before FDR's death, Winant sent him this letter about a belated Christmas<br />
gift he had found for the president.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
Winant’s dream</h3>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Roosevelt’s death on April 12, 1945, hit Winant hard.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He had devoted his whole political life to Roosevelt,”
Olson said. “He loved him. He thought FDR had saved the world.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The loss also threatened Winant's future. Without Roosevelt,
he was suddenly cast adrift. “Once FDR was gone, there was nothing left for
him,” Olson said. “It was like something of himself died when Roosevelt died.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Winant’s postwar dream was to become the first leader of the
United Nations. Olson found evidence that Roosevelt considered this
possibility, but the choice of the United States as the U.N.’s home base ended
any chance that its leader would be an American.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BNOwRIomFdy6ESjvqJgTkA89o0AhRh2s8MqfsLBDi4rFbEMgTk4NuWWtxyuecV5AiR-xTKssOkVJoNe4k9EubZi1o-b1sxkGaa85KSSJLVefuW10F-9X3aFiJMz7Cxlabp2OH97k6_Y/s1600/winant+eleanor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BNOwRIomFdy6ESjvqJgTkA89o0AhRh2s8MqfsLBDi4rFbEMgTk4NuWWtxyuecV5AiR-xTKssOkVJoNe4k9EubZi1o-b1sxkGaa85KSSJLVefuW10F-9X3aFiJMz7Cxlabp2OH97k6_Y/s400/winant+eleanor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eleanor Roosevelt, 1946 photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Winant left England in March 1946, five years after he had
arrived. He was a beloved figure, and the sendoff was huge. “I shall always
feel that I am a Londoner,” he said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Later that year, he was chosen as the lone eulogist when the
U.S. House of Representatives paid formal tribute to Roosevelt. The president’s
widow, Eleanor, who adored Winant, wrote him: “No one could do it better.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Before an audience that included President Truman, Winant
summed up Roosevelt's life in simple, ringing phrases. “There was never a time
in the dark years of the Depression, or the black years of the war, when he
lost hope,” Winant said.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<h3>
A desperate man</h3>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was Winant who was losing hope now. “He desperately
wanted to help restructure the world after the war,” Olson said, “and nobody
had a role for him.” He did not know Truman. His Washington contacts dried up.
As the cold war replaced the hot one, his ideals about building a peaceful,
cooperative world seemed naïve.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Winant’s personal life was a shambles. He was drained,
depressed and desperate. He returned to London to renew his relationship with
Sarah Churchill, who was now divorced. “He wanted to be with her, but she didn’t
want to be with him,” Olson said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A one-time prohibitionist, Winant had become a heavy
drinker, according to a 1969 column by longtime <i>Concord Monitor</i> political editor Andy Anderson. To reduce his
personal debt, which his first biographer estimated at a staggering $750,000,
Winant signed a contract for a three-volume memoir. He found writing a tedious
chore.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He apparently had nothing in his life to make him want to
live,” Olson said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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In 1947, Winant returned to his home on the site of the
current Unitarian Church in Concord. His loneliness and fatigue shocked those
who saw him. On Nov. 3, in an upstairs room, he knelt on the floor and shot
himself in the head. He died half an hour later. He was 58 years old.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Winant was mourned on both sides of the Atlantic. “It is a
terrible thing to consider about our postwar world that John Gilbert Winant
could not bear to live in it,” wrote the <i>Manchester
Guardian</i> in England. A New York <i>Herald
Tribune</i> editorialist summed up Winant's legacy with these words: “He did
more than people will ever know to maintain the solidarity of the two great
democracies in their hour of desperate need.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sixty-three years after the <i>Herald Tribune</i> expressed this concern, Lynne Olson has at last
given Winant his due.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjlHOqhssZghp774U1o6s6oZvg8PPbs9CmaUd-EHIBGSFmsVAWqu2_glcIt-6vDVw7bbJwNjEj6a9pd02yJLAfiLSI1YHkKhH6ZdGUJGe4T3c5a6G8BRjoRXexHV4BGRCxFw764yL7cE8/s1600/winant+grave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjlHOqhssZghp774U1o6s6oZvg8PPbs9CmaUd-EHIBGSFmsVAWqu2_glcIt-6vDVw7bbJwNjEj6a9pd02yJLAfiLSI1YHkKhH6ZdGUJGe4T3c5a6G8BRjoRXexHV4BGRCxFw764yL7cE8/s320/winant+grave.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John G. Winant's grave in St. Paul's School cemetery in Concord, NH. The reverse bears this inscription<br />
from a speech by Winant:<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;">"Doing the day's work day by day, doing a little, adding a little, broadening our bases, wanting not only for ourselves but for others also a fairer chance for all people everywhere. Forever moving forward, always remembering that it is the things of the spirit that in the end prevail. That caring counts and that where there is no vision the people perish. That hope and faith count and that without charity, there can be nothing good. That having dared to live dangerously, and in believing in the inherent goodness of man, we can stride forward into the unknown with growing confidence."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-42096163472994901842015-09-28T07:58:00.001-04:002015-10-17T10:46:47.106-04:00FDR's man in London: an idealist at war <div class="MsoNormal">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVu_DmZZ2kOExBmQlv5sgnCgdCBxGdGZqr6rneLfr2A9bQvnS2Crekv6UhstJlWJLVexEoOo8zznRCCbuJq9hS4BHZY5exBU9lIivjEOmXsfyi5a-sNSQID6njuFmCLAccndRWAC8yLKc/s1600/winant+statue+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVu_DmZZ2kOExBmQlv5sgnCgdCBxGdGZqr6rneLfr2A9bQvnS2Crekv6UhstJlWJLVexEoOo8zznRCCbuJq9hS4BHZY5exBU9lIivjEOmXsfyi5a-sNSQID6njuFmCLAccndRWAC8yLKc/s640/winant+statue+2.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">J. Brett Grill's statue of John G. Winant. Cold? Winant would give you his overcoat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Next spring J. Brett Grill’s statue of John G. Winant is scheduled to be installed on the lawn of the New Hampshire State Library. Winant’s perch will
be a stone’s throw from the corner office where he served as the state’s
governor in the 1920s and ’30s. He was the ideal governor to help New Hampshire
people through the Great Depression.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a way of honoring a man or woman who set a good example
in this world, a statue is a throwback. But Winant himself was a throwback: an idealist and humanitarian whose actions followed his hopes for mankind. A cynical world dismissed him as a dreamer but could not change him.<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant devoted himself to serving others. He was a teacher, a flier in
World War I, a governor, the first director of Social Security and the U.S.
ambassador to the Court of St. James during World War II. To him, service
was not about the offices he gained. As governor, he gave away his pocket change on his way
to work. Once he even gave away his overcoat. He picked up hitchhikers and
found jobs for the needy. As ambassador, he did as much as anyone could to bridge
the gap between Great Britain and the United States, to reassure a suffering nation and to win the war.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five years ago, I had the opportunity to delve into Winant’s
life, and I took it. Lynne Olson, a fine historian and writer, had just brought out <i>Citizens of London</i>, her book about three men
who shaped the British-American alliance in World War II. I read the book,
interviewed Olson, did further research and wrote a two-part series about Winant
for the <i>Concord Monitor</i>.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyfHn5u6yYaFRhC3oJ_Tmo6iuo4nCr24hdkFWhbdiKm_gXSvwuCMWEdO2IwyzvRu-8168U6wPrkXAM8ffMVBhFGva8Bj64NZVU37jwclZbCB0YrJltptVvPP3x6IQEo3qAlbz_iuVZaE/s1600/winant+event.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyfHn5u6yYaFRhC3oJ_Tmo6iuo4nCr24hdkFWhbdiKm_gXSvwuCMWEdO2IwyzvRu-8168U6wPrkXAM8ffMVBhFGva8Bj64NZVU37jwclZbCB0YrJltptVvPP3x6IQEo3qAlbz_iuVZaE/s640/winant+event.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This firing-squad photo, as we journalists used to call them, was taken at a reception for Lynne Olson at the New Hampshire<br />
State House in 2010. From left are Secretary of State Bill Gardner, yours truly, Abigail Dexter, then-Gov. John Lynch, Olson,<br />
Peter Thomson (son of a former governor), Rivington Winant (Winant's son) and Dean Dexter. Winant's portrait is behind us. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No other history story I’ve written, and there have been many, received
as much response from readers as the Winant series. Credit for that goes to
Olson. She had shown people for the first time what a great man Winant was. She
had given a hero back to New Hampshire.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant had not been totally forgotten, but until her book came out, the story of his service as ambassador and his deep and
crucial friendships with Churchill and FDR had never been part of the public lore about him. The stigma of his suicide in 1947 had blotted out his wartime
achievements.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, bravo for the campaign to build the statue. It’s a fine
likeness and a deserved tribute. It is also a reminder that politics and public
life are about service, not self-interest.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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Here is part one of my 2010 series on Winant. Part two is coming soon.<br />
<br /></div>
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<h2>
FDR finds his man</h2>
From the day John G. Winant, of Concord, N.H., arrived in
London as U.S. ambassador in early 1941, the White House resisted his pleas for
stronger U.S. action against Germany’s war machine.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor finally forced his
country’s hand, Winant was so excited that he and British Prime Minister
Winston Churchill danced around the room together.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsVNgQJeL1fY9SJyVkXR5O0ApuPu9mcI_BbcbTffnouZ1yTUOzrHbNfL5cxsKfXpqtjDWY7nTT2iB1xnlfomvyYiMyW4WwKtHRpi83E3XCiMf1m-ep0uW9lac8iRiPw5rwZt84urlYo8/s1600/winant+3+with+churchill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsVNgQJeL1fY9SJyVkXR5O0ApuPu9mcI_BbcbTffnouZ1yTUOzrHbNfL5cxsKfXpqtjDWY7nTT2iB1xnlfomvyYiMyW4WwKtHRpi83E3XCiMf1m-ep0uW9lac8iRiPw5rwZt84urlYo8/s400/winant+3+with+churchill.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Churchill is front and center, Winant right of him, hat under arm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Winant’s three terms as governor of New Hampshire made him a
revered figure in the state’s lore. He has been less celebrated for his service
as ambassador.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That should change this week with the release of <i>Citizens of London</i>, Lynne Olson’s new
book about the Americans who played critical roles in the wartime relationship
between Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt. Olson is a former journalist with
two other World War II histories to her credit.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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In <i>Citizens of London</i>,
she portrays Winant as an extraordinary man whose principles, compassion and
hard work helped win the war. In her view, he lived close to power without
having power himself, using the ambassadorship to strengthen the bonds between
Churchill in London and Roosevelt in Washington, D.C.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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For Olson, the discovery of Gil Winant, as he was known, was
a pleasant but unsettling surprise.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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“I had never heard of him before my research, and that is a
crying shame,” she said during a recent telephone interview. “When you consider
how important that alliance was, it seems incredible that one of the architects
who made it happen is unknown to the American people.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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The story of Winant in London has remained incomplete for
decades. When he committed suicide at his Concord home in 1947, he had signed a
contract to write his wartime memoirs in three volumes, but finished only one.
“He Walked Alone,” a 1968 political biography, covered the war years, but
didn’t gain wide general readership.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRxaGwLFdiudfmAcqE87KwNKs70Io7poAprnOpkD41e_KsDRrFBgkwsy4f3DM3ppmE_ibfvpjZteTjWPFnbZOA6OFLIOfjmck_dvElOqF4F2BfjXb0yKHs3CquUE9tQ7WXLBymW8v7wk/s1600/winant+young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRxaGwLFdiudfmAcqE87KwNKs70Io7poAprnOpkD41e_KsDRrFBgkwsy4f3DM3ppmE_ibfvpjZteTjWPFnbZOA6OFLIOfjmck_dvElOqF4F2BfjXb0yKHs3CquUE9tQ7WXLBymW8v7wk/s640/winant+young.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John G. Winant in 1919, at age 30.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Even when Winant is remembered in his home state, as he was
when Winant Park opened in Concord last year, his years as ambassador are
usually reduced to a few lines.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Olson’s Winant is an idealist and a workaholic, a man who
stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the British people as the Luftwaffe’s bombs and
rockets fell on London and other cities. The British adored him for it,
especially in contrast to his predecessor, Joseph P. Kennedy – who, upon
arriving back home in the States in 1940, declared: “England is gone. . . . I’m
for appeasement 1,000 percent.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Olson’s book examines Winant’s love affair with Sarah
Churchill, a daughter of the prime minister. It recounts his devotion to
Roosevelt, his effort to build the alliance and his campaign to improve
understanding between the two peoples. It ends with a thorough account of
Winant’s suicide.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the book, Winant shares the limelight with Averell
Harriman, Edward R. Murrow and others, but Olson returns to his story again and
again.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It is astonishing to me that virtually the entire British
public knew Winant and could identify him on the street if they saw him,” Olson
said. “He became a symbol to most British people of our country standing with
them – even before we were really standing with them.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<h3>
Before the war</h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Roosevelt and Winant had a history before Winant’s
appointment as ambassador. Winant was a Republican, Roosevelt a Democrat, but
after Winant embraced the New Deal during the 1930s, Roosevelt made him the
first chairman of the board that oversaw Social Security.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRXGwQKfvmmCUpY5xug8xMePfyF0eUAeWOFSYRAi2J3zj9MeOGYrEjiLAB6GG-aiXgDO8bJbB1Q7FdumVYrbr5EPPYNQ1zBUekE2Q8sdLYxdaGgB89LhS9myKFmPUj-gbouAivbi0DHI/s1600/winant+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRXGwQKfvmmCUpY5xug8xMePfyF0eUAeWOFSYRAi2J3zj9MeOGYrEjiLAB6GG-aiXgDO8bJbB1Q7FdumVYrbr5EPPYNQ1zBUekE2Q8sdLYxdaGgB89LhS9myKFmPUj-gbouAivbi0DHI/s400/winant+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John G. Winant</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Winant traveled the country promoting the new program.
During the 1936 presidential campaign, when Republicans tried to derail Social
Security, Winant quit the program’s board to campaign against Alf Landon, the
Republican nominee.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Roosevelt then sent Winant to Geneva, where he headed the
International Labor Organization, an agency founded after World War I under the
auspices of the League of Nations. Its chief function was to promote fair
conditions for workers.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Europe, Winant witnessed Hitler’s aggression firsthand.
He went to Prague to commiserate with the Czechoslovaks after Germany took over
the country. He was in Paris the day before Hitler’s forces captured it. He
traveled to England at Roosevelt’s request to report on British resolve under
attack.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Olson’s view, Roosevelt had wanted to replace the
defeatist Kennedy as ambassador to Great Britain for some time. Although
Roosevelt’s goal was a stronger alliance, he probably gave Winant no specific
instructions. Roosevelt seemed “intentionally vague” during their Oval Office
meeting, Olson said – so much so that Winant learned of his appointment only
when the press told him about it afterward.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Winant, Roosevelt knew he had found a man who could
connect with the British and let them know they weren’t alone. He also
understood the character of Winant, who he called “Utopian John.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<h3>
A royal welcome</h3>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant’s welcome in England underscored how desperate the
British were for American help. In a departure from protocol for receiving new
ambassadors, King George VI met him at the railroad station in Windsor and
spoke with him at length.<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5D1wU8gUl3aAz2hIIa2U-tKdDEAQkMjSzV3t8-_tGQu-OjLsa39ICTyRdMMx8HzQjcKFuI2rMJkjaOMjYHQBa26MaBRG7PJCCg1J6KgwmXLlBJ-ddgTugEMuWsjfSfQpTnfDCiTQvp2o/s1600/winant+with+king+george.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5D1wU8gUl3aAz2hIIa2U-tKdDEAQkMjSzV3t8-_tGQu-OjLsa39ICTyRdMMx8HzQjcKFuI2rMJkjaOMjYHQBa26MaBRG7PJCCg1J6KgwmXLlBJ-ddgTugEMuWsjfSfQpTnfDCiTQvp2o/s400/winant+with+king+george.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winant (right) with King George VI (saluting) and his wife Queen Elizabeth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From the day Winant arrived, Churchill took him into his
confidence. He did the same with Murrow, Harriman and others. “Churchill was so
desperate to get the United States into the war that he tried to woo these guys
just like he did FDR later on,” Olson said.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant didn’t need convincing. He counseled Churchill on how
best to deal with Roosevelt. Determined to bring America into the war, he threw
himself at his task.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There’s no place I’d rather be than in England,” he said,
and he meant it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Winant lived modestly in London despite his station and
traveled widely despite the Blitz. He became a familiar figure at bombed
buildings, helping where he could. He preferred conversing with janitors and
waiters to rubbing elbows with the high-born.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though a lackluster orator, he expressed clear principles
with a human touch. His message was simple: We’re with you. After one speech
prevented a coal miners’ strike, a leading British newspaper compared it to
Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In May 1941, two months after he came to London, Winant made
it clear to the British public where he stood and where he wished his country
to stand.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We have all slept while the wicked, evil men plotted
destruction,” he said. “We have all tried to make ourselves believe we are not
our brother’s keeper. But we are now beginning to realize we need our brothers
as much as our brothers need us.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In 1940 and ’41, however, the government Winant represented
failed to deliver on Roosevelt’s glib promises of aid to Great Britain. For the
ships and other materiel and supplies it did send, the United States charged a
high price.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffM9a6jkzR3omSScoyIQrDa9ZFjYDHAsag2Wfo3k_h0AQvQpTbQg85nLqFm0S7GuN1Mwo8Lzt-MGTz8flAvx7PNOpWdihbMaeP34LDlm1A1AnB0Ji33yg7CUtOZ1zrMj_3C1Adc0LqSA/s1600/winant+checquers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffM9a6jkzR3omSScoyIQrDa9ZFjYDHAsag2Wfo3k_h0AQvQpTbQg85nLqFm0S7GuN1Mwo8Lzt-MGTz8flAvx7PNOpWdihbMaeP34LDlm1A1AnB0Ji33yg7CUtOZ1zrMj_3C1Adc0LqSA/s640/winant+checquers.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chequers, the prime minister's retreat, 40 miles west of London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Winant soon became a regular visitor at Chequers, the prime
minister’s country mansion, where he was treated almost as family. Until the
United States entered the war, this hospitality had a serious downside.
Churchill harangued Winant mercilessly about U.S. intervention.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It wasn’t Winant who needed convincing, and Churchill came
to see this. Roosevelt had promised during the 1940 election not to go to war,
but Winant knew a U.S.-British military alliance was essential to stop Hitler.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Churchill told his cabinet Winant was “apparently longing
for Germany to commit some overt act that would relieve the president of his .
. . declaration regarding keeping out of war.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As documented in <i>Citizens
of London</i>, Winant was in the unusual position of representing his country
while also making Churchill’s arguments to the Roosevelt administration. His
allegiance to Britain’s cause raises the question of whether he ever put his
own country second. Although Olson sees Winant’s relationship with Churchill as
unprecedented, her answer is a resounding no.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The interests of the United States were paramount with
Winant,” she said. “There was no sign of his stepping over the line. He always
had it in mind that he was representing the president.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<h3>
War</h3>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In response to the attack on Pearl Harbor, Congress declared
war on both Japan and Germany, the two chief Axis partners. Winant was with Churchill and
others at Chequers when the radio brought news of the attack. All were
jubilant. One of Churchill’s private secretaries wrote in his diary that the
two men “sort of danced around the room together.”<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Olson stressed during the interview that Churchill and
Winant weren’t reacting to the horrific details of the Pearl Harbor attack.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They didn’t know those,” she said. “All they knew was that
the United States was in the war.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
This fact made Winant’s job even more challenging. He was
now a catalyst in the often caustic compound of two giant egos joined as
wartime leaders. He had to prepare England for the arrival of a U.S. military
force that, by late 1943, grew to more than 1.6 million men.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImRk_9OVIQwpmXS8_dflJRYt0Dm3_6VMXFj-X5ObPsC6EFPLEfuBXO6qI2QpHwEhD2SknIr78eb_AqfHXmB2Hp5fSOpVIf6uX4AJkto6ECGFBKxTi7XLpyqjApiDG5uph2WvQDDf16gY/s1600/winant+jr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImRk_9OVIQwpmXS8_dflJRYt0Dm3_6VMXFj-X5ObPsC6EFPLEfuBXO6qI2QpHwEhD2SknIr78eb_AqfHXmB2Hp5fSOpVIf6uX4AJkto6ECGFBKxTi7XLpyqjApiDG5uph2WvQDDf16gY/s400/winant+jr.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lt. John G. Winant Jr. is second from right in life jacket. He is pictured with<br />
the flight crew of his B17 Flying Fortress. Photo was taken in August 1943.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In a city filled with exiled leaders from countries overrun
by Hitler’s armies and fearful of Josef Stalin’s, he felt compelled to ponder
how the world might look after the war.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As he assumed these responsibilities, Winant also faced two
personal issues. One was a perennial problem: his loneliness. The other was
news that, like Winant during World War I, his son, John Jr., had decided to
join the U.S. Army Air Forces.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winant was prone to depression and beset by debt. He and his
wife, who occasionally visited him in London, had long been emotionally
distant.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Olson quotes a woman who knew them both as saying: “He would
sit up all night brooding over how to make things better. She loved to throw
parties.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Sarah Churchill, Winston’s favorite daughter, Winant
sought solace. Twenty-five years younger than Winant, who was in his early 50s,
she was rebounding from a broken marriage. He fell in love with her.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hgawGr1RsPYvlcLgtfCiqyRT8TOBvfG4rGKHz9KCvuX_nZRnJ82z1rLdi9xmM7_Z-J6N8M4c2eMFMPgVCW9TTIns9maxJc2K-Bo8x2gpi8oAqVxQ1Kh_ZMYi8iw6RNiWVsoRERrxzuA/s1600/winant+sarah+churchill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hgawGr1RsPYvlcLgtfCiqyRT8TOBvfG4rGKHz9KCvuX_nZRnJ82z1rLdi9xmM7_Z-J6N8M4c2eMFMPgVCW9TTIns9maxJc2K-Bo8x2gpi8oAqVxQ1Kh_ZMYi8iw6RNiWVsoRERrxzuA/s400/winant+sarah+churchill.jpg" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah Churchill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
“I think both were looking for someone to talk to,” Olson
said. “She was vibrant, warm, outgoing, caring, interested in others. He took
comfort in just being with her.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Especially by London standards during the war, their affair
was discreet. Having forgone the ambassador’s residence, Winant lived near the
embassy in a modest three-bedroom flat in Grosvenor Square. Sarah Churchill’s
smaller flat was a short walk from the embassy.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They spent as much time together as possible, but few people
knew of the liaison. Sarah Churchill suspected the prime minister might be one
of them, later referring to it as a “love affair which my father suspected but
about which we did not speak.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the U.S. buildup in England began in earnest, John
Winant Jr.’s decision to become a bomber pilot added to the pressure on his
father. At the height of World War I, Gil Winant had left his teaching job at
St. Paul’s School to fly in France, an experience he was lucky to survive. Now,
John Jr. began training to fly a B-17 during a period when German fighter
planes and antiaircraft guns were shooting down Flying Fortresses with alarming
ease.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Air Force had no long-range fighter planes to protect
the bombers from German Messerschmitts. Ignoring evidence to the contrary, the
brass clung to the idea that B-17s and B-24s were so powerful and plentiful
that they would prevail without fighter escorts.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From London, Winant joined the campaign to overcome this
hubris, but by the time he and others finally won the argument, it was too late
to help his son.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015_10_01_archive.html">Winning the war, contemplating the peace, John G.Winant’s sad demise</a>.</i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-32878078171567492682015-09-25T21:10:00.000-04:002015-09-26T09:26:10.297-04:00Hollow presidential campaigns: an American tradition<div class="MsoNormal">
As we roll our eyes amid the foolery and hokum of our 2016 presidential
campaign, it is worth remembering how long Americans have endured hollow politics at the highest level.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0Ru8UHDq7XEtlypLyZgfj0szeCxfJ9A2DngLn8b0QD9EhY-EJZSED7K7mD5kh5UhOBTFa3ECd0_HTD_BFXi_eOUqONNZtpXZsanFzzPlXIB6qGvhJLYyYVdJd3K0P6CXmZrKo7b3ltE/s1600/young+g+t+stong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0Ru8UHDq7XEtlypLyZgfj0szeCxfJ9A2DngLn8b0QD9EhY-EJZSED7K7mD5kh5UhOBTFa3ECd0_HTD_BFXi_eOUqONNZtpXZsanFzzPlXIB6qGvhJLYyYVdJd3K0P6CXmZrKo7b3ltE/s320/young+g+t+stong.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George Templeton Strong, precocious diarist</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Andrew Jackson went down in history as the father of the
Democracy, wresting the White House from bewigged bluestockings. But it was the Log Cabin campaign of 1840 that turned presidential politics into hoopla.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gen. William Henry Harrison, former governor of the Indiana
Territory, was the perfect candidate for the Whig strategy of avoiding divisive
issues, especially slavery, and taking advantage of the hard times of the late 1830s.<br />
<br />
Harrison’s campaign exaggerated the significance of an 1811
fight against Native Americans at the Tippecanoe River and portrayed him as a
rough-hewn candidate of hard cider and log cabins. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Harrison won, but his presidency is now known only for its brevity.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I came to New York last year for my new job, I wanted
to gain at least a sense of the city’s rich history. Among the books I turned to was
George Templeton Strong’s diary. Strong, a lawyer, kept the diary for nearly 40
years beginning in 1835. I’m reading the 1952 version edited
by Allan Nevins and Milton Halsey Thomas. Its four volumes run to 2,250 pages. I’m still bookmarking the Civil War
years and have the fourth volume to go after that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwyTZ68I_tREeTg2lqYX3YGrycFulNvPnoD9vzyZtfjDlM9cpqZUbNfmJ1n1dsMgGZFI9Yn8Ij3NKfTpGQwYzI87xxPZHdi9oNAK1c7pxRdF0uifvY3ooXKA3CZU0TtpU9wsJPtp5hsk/s1600/harrison+token.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwyTZ68I_tREeTg2lqYX3YGrycFulNvPnoD9vzyZtfjDlM9cpqZUbNfmJ1n1dsMgGZFI9Yn8Ij3NKfTpGQwYzI87xxPZHdi9oNAK1c7pxRdF0uifvY3ooXKA3CZU0TtpU9wsJPtp5hsk/s320/harrison+token.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harrison campaign token</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But today I want to share a taste of it. These are Strong’s
observations of the 1840 campaign and its aftermath, begun the year he turned
20.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>May 6, 1840</b> –
Harrison is going ahead. How little one can calculate on political events. When
he was nominated, I thought it the most ridiculously ruinous act that the party
could possibly have stumbled upon, and now if he isn’t elected, at least he’s
going ahead, far beyond the possible success of Clay or Webster and probably of
Scott. It’s a pretty commentary, though, on the wisdom of His Majesty the
People that he can be so bamboozled by the slang of “hard cider,” “log cabins,”
and “Tippecanoe.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>May 8</b> – . . . I
went to the office, and there met George Anthon for a Tippecanoe pilgrimage.
Tonight is the anniversary of that greatest military operation of the present
age, that most heroic achievement of ancient of modern warfare – surpassing all
“affairs” on record from the siege of Troy down to the Battle of Brokow – to
wit the raising of the siege on Fort Meigs, when the British were smitten hip
and thigh by the mortal Harrison. Candidly I never heard of the affair till the
last three months. But that only shows what ignoramuses we are. Just to think
of the besieging army’s firing some two hundred and fifty shot in one day – and
actually killing one man and wounding ten! What a regular fire-eater the old
Hero must be!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPIPv5qjbCDc8lxPXTdcXtYMTf-b50qKvH6gIHne3jSVH_3hu4v9_8qUz503celmJdvIK0_y4sk_4ui8eYukVdVgG1sLbSGbOonUphIDSl1sU29WaiynyQVkTYUS2qYu5ucLLeBe2uyk/s1600/harrison+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPIPv5qjbCDc8lxPXTdcXtYMTf-b50qKvH6gIHne3jSVH_3hu4v9_8qUz503celmJdvIK0_y4sk_4ui8eYukVdVgG1sLbSGbOonUphIDSl1sU29WaiynyQVkTYUS2qYu5ucLLeBe2uyk/s400/harrison+cover.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harrison almanac cover</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, the loaferage of New York not being particularly
well versed in the history of this or any other age, the Battle of Fort Meigs
does as well to tickle them with as anything else, and to be sure the
procession and fuss tonight surpassed inspirit and numbers anything of the sort
that I ever saw here – except during the excitement of election. The procession
seemed interminable. I thought as the Irishmen did that somebody must have cut
off the other end of it. Banners, log cabins on wheels, barrels supposed to be
full of hard cider, and all sorts of glories adorned its march. . . . Of
course, the Locos* disgraced themselves as usual, by a fierce attack on one
banner in particular – representing Matty** shinning away from the White House
with O.K. under it, i.e. “Off to Kinderhook.” Brick bats were thrown and heads
broken and an attack was made on the Garden (subsequently), but the siege was
raised by a few sticks and stones dropped on the heads of the assailants from
above. Altogether it was a grand affair – Harrison forever!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Pejorative shortening of Locofocos, a faction of the
Democratic Party.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[**Martin Van Buren, the incumbent president, was seeking a
second term. Kinderhook, N.Y., was his hometown. Van Buren’s nickname was “Old
Kinderhook,” an echo of “Old Hickory,” Andrew Jackson, under whom he had been
vice president.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvDnfmk5W8CKskrHto8-w3hUmBuSmE1WVG8yYbV-vPIESrlmhHQLyg_iWHWAc9oOawKaO4wLYGpePa0_tNtzN42vcQAX1Io5eR2rnwA0cyou8w_KIbhJgJGhJ9N5f8iocLc3xLFQTxaQ/s1600/harrison+button.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvDnfmk5W8CKskrHto8-w3hUmBuSmE1WVG8yYbV-vPIESrlmhHQLyg_iWHWAc9oOawKaO4wLYGpePa0_tNtzN42vcQAX1Io5eR2rnwA0cyou8w_KIbhJgJGhJ9N5f8iocLc3xLFQTxaQ/s320/harrison+button.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harrison campaign coat button</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Sept. 28</b> – Today
has been great in the annals of stump oratory. The park has been disgraced by
the herding together of the unshorn, unwashed, and indecent hedonism of
Locofocoism, while at the Exchange has been a grand gathering of merchants of
New York to hear the Almighty Daniel Webster discourse of the Militia Law, the
Subtreasury and General Harrison. The crowd and jam was marvelous to behold.
Webster spoke for about two and a half hours; I heard part of it, but the
squeeze tightened every minute, and I eloped, out of regard to my ribs. Webster
certainly has intellect stamped on his face in clearer characters than any man
I ever saw.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Nov. 3</b> – Really,
I’m beginning to wish this affair ended; the novelty of the thing is over and
I’m tired of humbug, lying, spouting, wearing, O.K., and the Old Hero. Nothing
but politics. The newspapers crowd out their advertisements for mendacious
“returns” that nobody believes, the walls are papered three deep with humbug,
banners and inscriptions dangle over every street, mass-meetings are held in
every groggery from National Hall down. If the North River were actually on
fire, or if a live kraken were to sail into the harbor, or if the continent
were to sink into the sea, the papers wouldn’t be able to find room for the
news.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2X0Q5iGq6xDA-FaqK5iuzJ2oRncUCSnZQgz03EJkauK7iKjmv7b5K3p94wByQgFA4ufzq2AjYZeMrTU5S5bbEiuEXeeA_Yx31ljaW8KN2gkBKj9zZmfphrwZu6qDitNnbI2twO465TE/s1600/harrison+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2X0Q5iGq6xDA-FaqK5iuzJ2oRncUCSnZQgz03EJkauK7iKjmv7b5K3p94wByQgFA4ufzq2AjYZeMrTU5S5bbEiuEXeeA_Yx31ljaW8KN2gkBKj9zZmfphrwZu6qDitNnbI2twO465TE/s400/harrison+photo.jpg" width="333" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William Henry Harrison</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[William Henry Harrison carried 19 states, including New
York, to Van Buren’s seven. He won the electoral vote 234-60 and was
inaugurated the country’s 10th president took the oval office on March 4, 1841.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>April 5, 1841</b> –
Mournful news this morning. General Harrison died on Saturday night, a few
hours less than one month from his inauguration. The news was most unexpected
to me, for I didn’t suppose him to be very seriously ill, and he was said on
Saturday to be recovering. I confess I was never so sincerely sorry for the
death of any one whom I knew of merely as a <i>public</i>
character. Though not possessed of any great talent, I believe he was a good,
honest, benevolent, right-minded man – qualities far more rare among our
political people. It’s a bad thing for the Whig party – for Tyler I imagine
half a Democrat – a bad thing for the country at this crisis, when the
commercial interest is looking so anxiously to the movements of government and
we may be on the eve of war and can ill afford any time to make new
arrangements at home. . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everything in the shape of a flag in the city is up today
and at half mast, and I was heartily glad to see one flying on Tammany, and to
see the <i>Standard</i> in mourning. All the
papers except the <i>New Era</i>, the <i>Post</i> and the <i>Journal of Commerce</i>, have had decency enough to let party feeling
drop.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>April 10</b> –
Weather raw, cloudy and unpropitious. Went out at twelve o’clock to see the funeral
procession. The whole population of the city in the street either as actors or
spectators. Houses hung with black, particularly along the line of march.
Chatham Street literally hid with lugubrious drapery. I established myself in
Chatham Square, and a fine sight it was to look up the rising ground towards
the Park, the houses on each side shrouded with black, the dense mass of people
between, and in the center of the procession pouring down, a wide stream of
plumes and bayonets and dark banners. It began to pass at a little before one,
moving rapidly, headed by the military – about 6000 – uniform companies and
U.S. troops and Marines, then the urn, the General’s horse (hypothetical), the
“pall bearers,” Martin Van Buren, and divers other great men, the civic
dignitaries, all the fire companies, about 3000 men I presume – generally a
rowdy set, though one of two companies looked decent, then Masons, etc. By that
time it was half-past two and I was tired and it was beginning to snow, so I
walked down Chatham Street to the Park, where at least one-third of the
procession remained, filing slowly out – indeed it was half-past three before
they were all in motion. </div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-81918592302522888592015-09-20T10:22:00.001-04:002015-09-20T10:23:48.303-04:0014. Epilogue: Two soldiers, home from the wars<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5vpRQiCTa985my1wTNe3sbc-sMw62ebNzwwCTtLbOetZG21Z_zLtVIC-6xtq6wxwGi7jszOCqOKImhdy397inUAQDDvqA5_v2fI_pL2WWLwawRM3LXqSVvQT-8m5m5R9IBeX7snYElw/s1600/Civil+War+pencil+drawing+black+and+white.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5vpRQiCTa985my1wTNe3sbc-sMw62ebNzwwCTtLbOetZG21Z_zLtVIC-6xtq6wxwGi7jszOCqOKImhdy397inUAQDDvqA5_v2fI_pL2WWLwawRM3LXqSVvQT-8m5m5R9IBeX7snYElw/s640/Civil+War+pencil+drawing+black+and+white.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldad Rhodes's daughter did history a favor by writing a note on the back of this drawing made at Antietam in fall of 1862. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/13-two-brothers-on-mission-in-wartime.html">Previous post</a>]<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjND6rN8zSfxXSl4plADrOIzDmwfHZEQOKeBDHrtVw_ZKOqPSeNR3w5z3mhYwfjMVIi036gkY4cTJOzqoqCEcFKKgGjdLJOToAyaEgpwy0J36M0aeVRewj95WvQc4_svDa-Exv1ygqM3xc/s1600/freedom+signed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjND6rN8zSfxXSl4plADrOIzDmwfHZEQOKeBDHrtVw_ZKOqPSeNR3w5z3mhYwfjMVIi036gkY4cTJOzqoqCEcFKKgGjdLJOToAyaEgpwy0J36M0aeVRewj95WvQc4_svDa-Exv1ygqM3xc/s640/freedom+signed.jpg" width="385" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom Rhodes, Eldad's brother</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During a five-day stretch of the winter of 1863, Pvt. Cutler
Edson and Sgt. Eldad Rhodes left the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers. Both were
discharged with disabilities. Edson, who had been sick and despondent for
nearly two months, went home on Jan 29, 1863. He was 43 years old. On Feb. 3, Rhodes
received his discharge at the military hospital in Frederick, Md., where he had
been convalescing after being shot through the right lung at Antietam. He had returned to the battlefield
with his brother Freedom four weeks earlier.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both men lived out their lives as veterans of one of the
most celebrated Union regiments in the Civil War. Edson had volunteered as a bugler in the 5th New
Hampshire on Oct. 18, 1861, as it was coming together in Concord. Eldad Rhodes had been recruited in Lancaster at the beginning of 1862 and joined the regiment in Virginia that winter. Both experienced
the carnage and frenzy of battle at <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/8battle-of-fair-oaks-thus-sabath-has.html">Fair Oaks, Va.,</a> during the retreat from the
Peninsula known as <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/9-malvern-hill-kind-friends-alone.html">the Seven Days</a> and at <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/11-we-were-hurried-to-deadly-fire-and.html">Antietam</a>. Rhodes was twice wounded. Probably
after Malvern Hill and certainly after Antietam, Edson helped him from the
battlefield and nursed him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both men were in military hospitals when the 5th made its suicidal
charge up Marye’s Heights at Fredericksburg on Dec. 13, 1862. And they were civilians at home as their old regiment fought on at Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Cold Harbor,
Petersburg, Deep Bottom, Ream’s Station, Fort Stedman, Dinwiddie Court House, Sailor’s
Creek and Farmville. In the last named battle, the 5th lost 22 men and officers
killed. This occurred two days before Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Court
House. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The lives of Edson and Rhodes crossed again in New
Hampshire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSgHlyDfkeSa-q0E-ZivYWPsgdLb7QuZ5AtR-rbIhWqa3Bfo_cCdlllzDxlkHBs2LV1a4S_04asXFkpUyvajgOD7Yo5ooY3vGMaYFh2WuZ6QP9gQIkluJnE9kGyWp_H7RBwcCNP8q9DQ/s1600/about+drawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSgHlyDfkeSa-q0E-ZivYWPsgdLb7QuZ5AtR-rbIhWqa3Bfo_cCdlllzDxlkHBs2LV1a4S_04asXFkpUyvajgOD7Yo5ooY3vGMaYFh2WuZ6QP9gQIkluJnE9kGyWp_H7RBwcCNP8q9DQ/s640/about+drawing.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helen Rhodes Brockway's note on the back of the Antietam drawing made by her father.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That story is best told in a note inscribed on the back of a
sketch Rhodes made of the two of them together near Antietam Creek shortly
after the battle. In the sketch they sit together near their tent. Rhodes had
been shot through the lung, and when their regiment moved from Antietam to
Bolivar Heights with the Army of the Potomac, Edson stayed behind to care for
him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1_c3B2PSDVlSJyvazWoQG8SGE45waKLn76bGADF5Dev8usTlRgyPUHJ3eVbqeHuyc-z7wn0Pn4j8kPy8hBJRNMvZ4W2ALyT3tRcVvnnVvOIhPTinql1rLuFWccD7wx-2qhbmcKpnDGI/s1600/Eldad+A.+Rhodes+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1_c3B2PSDVlSJyvazWoQG8SGE45waKLn76bGADF5Dev8usTlRgyPUHJ3eVbqeHuyc-z7wn0Pn4j8kPy8hBJRNMvZ4W2ALyT3tRcVvnnVvOIhPTinql1rLuFWccD7wx-2qhbmcKpnDGI/s640/Eldad+A.+Rhodes+%25282%2529.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note how the dapper Eldad Rhodes rests his right arm, weak<br />
from his Antietam wound, on a draped chair.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Many years later, the drawing was the prized possession of
Helen Rhodes Brockway, Eldad’s only daughter. She wrote a note on the back
telling its history. Here it is:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This was drawn by my father Eldad Alexander Rhodes, in a
few weeks after he had been severely wounded through the right lung at the
battle of Antietam. He is supposed to be the man sitting at the left of the
table with a coat thrown over his shoulders. His right arm of course was
useless. The other man is my grandfather, Cutler Edson, who was a bugler in my
father’s regiment, the 5th New Hampshire. He it was who helped my father from
the battle-field, and nursed him tenderly in the little tent shown in the
picture. The coats hanging on the fence are the ones that were cut off from my
father, and were soaked with his blood.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This rough little sketch was sent home in a letter, and
started the little romance that finally ended in the marriage of Abbie Edson to
my father. It is her writing on the bottom of the picture, and I greatly desire
it may be left as it is in the little frame where her loving hands placed it. Of
all my pictures I think this is the dearest, as it brings my father and mother
so near to me. She died in April 1893 after only eleven short years of happy
life with him, when I was nine years old; and he was taken from me June 15,
1918 at the age of seventy-two years. He died from the effects of the wound he
received while fighting bravely for his country. All honor to him, and to all
the old soldiers who were as brave and courageous as he!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I hope his little granddaughter Barbara Brockway will
cherish this as lovingly as I have, and teach her children to love it, and her
grandfather’s memory.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Helen Rhodes Brockway” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eldad Rhodes was born on Jan. 10, 1841, in Northumberland, a
town in Coos County, New Hampshire’s northernmost. When the war began, he was
living in Lancaster, the county seat. This was the hometown of Edward E. Cross,
the fiery colonel of the 5th New Hampshire, who was killed at Gettysburg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjd-fZnrSp_nDtdVYfEZkx2FDw75TKXFlUvr5BGO2rHVprWy0cpMJHsOOWkBnq47tO2hBOVI7_Ex8LZSjdThZpPhAxbzOEla5CfsmZdbimWIdF44BjoX1zmUhQz4TgQLuPu2VCIWKaV0/s1600/freedom%2527s+grave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjd-fZnrSp_nDtdVYfEZkx2FDw75TKXFlUvr5BGO2rHVprWy0cpMJHsOOWkBnq47tO2hBOVI7_Ex8LZSjdThZpPhAxbzOEla5CfsmZdbimWIdF44BjoX1zmUhQz4TgQLuPu2VCIWKaV0/s400/freedom%2527s+grave.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom Rhodes's grave in Lancaster</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In 1876, after returning to Lancaster from the war, Rhodes
moved across the Connecticut River to Guildhall, Vt., where he farmed and
taught school, but he retained his New Hampshire ties. While serving as a
Republican in the Vermont House of Representatives from 1878 to 1880, he was
also adjutant of the Col. E.E. Cross post of the Grand Army of the Republic in Lancaster.
In an age of men’s clubs, the GAR was the ultimate men’s club, a large and powerful
organization of Union veterans of the Civil War.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Freedom Rhodes, the elder brother with whom Eldad had gone back to Antietam in 1863, returned to Lancaster after he resigned his commission in the 14th New Hampshire in 1863 and later served as a justice. He died at the age of 42 in 1881 and is buried in the town’s Wilder Cemetery. The grave of Col. Cross is also there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cutler Edson, meanwhile, returned to Enfield in 1863 but
moved to Claremont in 1865 with his wife Louisa and their five children. He continued to work as a brick mason.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A farming and mill
town on the Sugar River, Claremont was larger than Enfield. It had suffered
great loss during the war. In Edson’s regiment alone, 89 Claremont men
had enlisted in Co. G, known as the Claremont company, under Capt. Charles
Long. Two years later, when the company returned home after Gettysburg, a crowd
filled Claremont’s town hall for a banquet to welcome them. There were just 12 soldiers
left.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDiqjCGYwVlvYn-aqXIBUNvIxCxjtqb9zci8zZqLwvql7L7NAgV-YiJ7-seqKfJQHorkS9Yyx1iofqZbrA9NMJqLXTCr5j4dIZuN5yorXALtYg_TQQVmiijvg2Nu5mphbXEy5c2lo323k/s1600/louisa+edson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDiqjCGYwVlvYn-aqXIBUNvIxCxjtqb9zci8zZqLwvql7L7NAgV-YiJ7-seqKfJQHorkS9Yyx1iofqZbrA9NMJqLXTCr5j4dIZuN5yorXALtYg_TQQVmiijvg2Nu5mphbXEy5c2lo323k/s320/louisa+edson.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Louisa Hoyt Edson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cutler Edson died at the age of 61 in 1881. His wife, whose
maiden name was Louisa Hoyt, collected a federal war widow’s pension until her
death at age 90. That was in 1915, when the pension was $12 a month.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edson’s daughter Abbie had been five years old when he went
to war in 1861. Later she struck up an acquaintance with Eldad Rhodes, the
younger man her father had befriended during the war. Abbie, a good student,
graduated from Stevens High School in Claremont and volunteered as a Sunday
school teacher. She later taught school of Claremont.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time Cutler Edson died, Rhodes had moved to
Claremont. The following year, on Sept. 27, he married Abbie Edson. She was 26,
he was 41. They had one daughter, Helen, born in 1884. It was this daughter who
later wrote the note on the back of the drawing from Antietam.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Abbie Edson Rhodes was diagnosed with Bright’s disease
(kidney disease) three years into her marriage. She died eight years later, on
April 24, 1893. Eldad lived with Helen for the rest of his life. Beginning in
1903, he was the town weigher, charged with verifying the weight of hay, coal
and other commodities. He died at home, 229 Pleasant St., on June 15, 1913, at
the age of 72, and was buried nearby in Pleasant Street Cemetery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
His obituary listed the cause of death as pulmonary trouble.
As Helen Rhodes Brockway wrote, he and the family believed that in the end it
was his Antietam wound that killed him.<br />
<br />
<b><i>End of series, which begins <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/1-story-begins-it-was-one-of-lovliest.html">here</a></i></b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-65003076648182949422015-09-17T07:16:00.000-04:002016-02-28T09:20:53.249-05:0013. Two brothers on a mission in wartime <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizS3mreYHHfiwcTIqXc-g63j4QVO8gVF5qd9MHLyuk_7OWAbu3yxMqWhRskTMAxVyj6LhgdS7bdxs-88AIZtuI4O82hizzZ357uuX2EEUZvpjDDTIb7Pqii74EY_op0uq6035X3IQ5Cgk/s1600/14th+NH+Capt.+Freedom+M.+Rhodes%252C+Co+E.+a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizS3mreYHHfiwcTIqXc-g63j4QVO8gVF5qd9MHLyuk_7OWAbu3yxMqWhRskTMAxVyj6LhgdS7bdxs-88AIZtuI4O82hizzZ357uuX2EEUZvpjDDTIb7Pqii74EY_op0uq6035X3IQ5Cgk/s640/14th+NH+Capt.+Freedom+M.+Rhodes%252C+Co+E.+a.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capt. Freedom Rhodes with two men of the 14th New Hampshire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/12-what-use-am-i-here-why-am-i-here.html">previous post</a>]<br />
<br />
Until now Freedom Rhodes has been a bit player in the story
of the 5th New Hampshire’s first year under arms as told by his brother Eldad
and the bugler Cutler Edson. Because of a lucky find during my research for <i>Our War</i>, a bottom-up New Hampshire Civil War
history, today Freedom takes his star turn.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKiiCz-8W24jHMLvStumQAZdNj6AYr04B_FgOLEhbmwo9HJYWfrHHA0ET6GfN5BzIjPzwt52FvtxZbWV3Zp5o49tRgu1QPIeTEoYJIc93yHB_CJTG6-BTP9gYIp5QeOXQyKtcjl_vXiiE/s1600/WLW-Hen.HeathUnionSoldierThousandIslandsPion_103F9-ltowh-8x6_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKiiCz-8W24jHMLvStumQAZdNj6AYr04B_FgOLEhbmwo9HJYWfrHHA0ET6GfN5BzIjPzwt52FvtxZbWV3Zp5o49tRgu1QPIeTEoYJIc93yHB_CJTG6-BTP9gYIp5QeOXQyKtcjl_vXiiE/s400/WLW-Hen.HeathUnionSoldierThousandIslandsPion_103F9-ltowh-8x6_1.jpg" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lt. Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. of the 20th Massachusetts </td></tr>
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The find was a story in the Feb. 12, 1863, <i>Independent Democrat</i>, the Republican
newspaper in Concord, the state’s capital. The headline, “My Hunt after the
Sergeant – Three Hours on Antietam,” echoed the title of a story in the December
1862 <i>Atlantic</i>, “My Hunt after Captain.”<br />
<br />
In the magazine Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes of Boston chronicled his search for his
son, Oliver Jr., the future Supreme Court justice, who was badly wounded and
missing after Antietam. Freedom Rhodes’s hunt was for his brother, Eldad, who had
been shot through the right lung in the same battle. The wound at first seemed
mortal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Freedom Rhodes did not make things easy for the future
historian. He referred to the man he was looking for as Sergeant R. and signed his piece F.M.R.
It took me a while to find F.M.R. in the fat book listing tens of thousands of
New Hampshire men who went to war. Then I put the information in F.M.R.’s story
together with the diaries and letters of Eldad Rhodes and Cutler Edson, lent to me
by Fred Goodwin, a descendant of both. If you’ve read the recent blog posts
about them, you know that Freedom and Eldad saw each other often during the
first year of the war.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Freedom was the older brother, born June 28, 1838, and thus
24 years old when he went looking for his wounded brother. Eldad was about to
turn 22. Before the war, Freedom worked a year as a singing instructor at
Falley Seminary, a Protestant school in Fulton, N.Y. He was antislavery,
perhaps even abolitionist. In an earlier letter to the <i>Independent Democrat</i> he asserted that soldiers were warming to the idea
of emancipation and would vote accordingly if given the chance. When officers
in his regiment wrote an anti-Copperhead screed calling for unity in support of Lincoln’s
policies, Freedom signed it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Better far that the unbridled license of the press be held
in check; better that individual liberty be abridged; better that all the
property of rebels be confiscated; better that the shackles be stricken from
every slave and the freed man arrayed against his oppressor; better that the
whole Southern domain be made a howling wilderness, than that the infamous
conspiracy against the rights of man succeed, and our once noble country be
made the reproach of the nations,” the officers wrote.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This came from the 14th New Hampshire, a regiment Freedom
Rhodes had only recently joined. He had been in the first wave of volunteers,
enlisting in Lancaster, the family’s hometown, on April 22, 1861. He joined the
2nd New Hampshire, which fought at First Bull Run. He was wounded at Oak Grove,
Va., during the Peninsula campaign. When ever the 2nd and the 5th camped in close proximity, he visited brother Eldad. A sergeant in the 2nd, Freedom left the regiment
in the fall of 1862 for a captain’s commission in the 14th.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Freedom left the army in July 1863.After the war he was a
justice of the peace for Coos County and a state representative from Lancaster. He died in 1881 at the age of 42 and is buried in Wilder
Cemetery in his hometown.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here is his story, sent from the 14th New Hampshire camp at
Poolesville, Md., on Jan. 23, 1863, two weeks after he and Eldad lived it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My Hunt after the Sergeant <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Who that had kindred in McClellan’s army will forget the
silent heart-ache that possessed them after the first news of the great
Antietam fight? Among the casualties of our glorious Fifth we saw the name of
our Sergeant, wounded. We hoped, as who has not, that it was slight, till one
night, twelve days after, a letter from his Captain told us that a traitor’s
bullet had pierced his lung, and though living, the chances of his recovery
were small.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVDTEH9v_i9aFMOh_TKtwHNs0H9QxgkakQMjgHKOcvZvzRGoTB4CYk2kQB9fyZMeaEXlljgThR1VorQo56hXj38E39w0pjqCgmbfbw_jLIq3_oFRy3ghFxpiNDp-K0sqjK-UziTpjqB8/s1600/Stephen_Hopkins_signature.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVDTEH9v_i9aFMOh_TKtwHNs0H9QxgkakQMjgHKOcvZvzRGoTB4CYk2kQB9fyZMeaEXlljgThR1VorQo56hXj38E39w0pjqCgmbfbw_jLIq3_oFRy3ghFxpiNDp-K0sqjK-UziTpjqB8/s400/Stephen_Hopkins_signature.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stephen Hopkins's signature on the Declaration. </td></tr>
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By this time the crisis must have passed, and so we waited
sorrowfully until tidings came, a little note, by his own pen, not the bold
stroke of his former hand, but tremulous as that of Stephen Hopkins to the
Declaration of Independence, three weeks later. He was at Frederick and
recovering. The 14th was to start soon, and so from that date we commenced our
hunt for him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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In the Clarendon House, Washington, we met a Drum Major
[Ephraim McDaniel, mentioned by Eldad Rhodes in the previous psot], who had
been with him three weeks in those infernal shelter-tents, before going to
Frederick. From Seneca we tried to reach him, but not a horse could be had for
money, (it didn’t for once make the mare go,) and forty-five miles was a long
way to walk over twice in forty-eight hours.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Then at the Cross Roads we got the horse, but the pass was
not approved, because the time was too long, and the next day illness of our
waiter-boy detained us till death took him where there is no war. And then once
more, after we were recovered from the exhaustion of watching the boy, we were
to go on Monday, but Saturday night we got orders to move for this place, the
next morning. And so we were busy with stockading camp and getting in, until
Monday last we once more turned our face towards Frederick.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2a5Hsbqd0I1lXDn9joDHFs9CVv6eWb4j4al-QPL-aFEdF3_X3ZsedoVz82sXsH4JDhI3iV3HHNZPlQOb73bAzNh9LihW9ROkmQ3-ZtVDAtLWtCHNyOQPHTlThous0Bo9AaihommSfjY/s1600/General_George_Stoneman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2a5Hsbqd0I1lXDn9joDHFs9CVv6eWb4j4al-QPL-aFEdF3_X3ZsedoVz82sXsH4JDhI3iV3HHNZPlQOb73bAzNh9LihW9ROkmQ3-ZtVDAtLWtCHNyOQPHTlThous0Bo9AaihommSfjY/s400/General_George_Stoneman.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brig. Gen. George Stoneman. Rhodes refers to an incident<br />
in October 1862 when Confederate Maj. Gen. J.E.B. Stiart<br />
evaded Stoneman's cavalry after a raid on Chamberburg, Pa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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John Adams, the husband of the colored woman spoken of in
our last, was our coachman to Adamstown, thirteen miles, the nearest point to
the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. John showed us the road which Stuart took in
his return from Pennsylvania. He crossed the river at White’s Ford below the
Monocacy, not six miles from here, while Gen. Stoneman was camped here with
10,000 men!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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At last our crazy old team reached the Monocacy, so near to
its mouth that we could see the Potomac when we forded it, though it was
seventy-five yards broad. Just below the ford is a fine aqueduct of masonry
supported by seven archways, over which the Ohio & Chesapeake Canal passes.
Across the stream, and we are in the trail of Lee’s army, the main body of
which crossed just above its mouth. We tracked him by unmistakable foot prints,
half-burned fences, countless black fire spots where they cooked, and another amusing
sign of the want of provision stores, the corn-cobs beside the roads.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We passed through a beautiful tract of country of 13,000
acres, which we afterwards learned, once, about the time of the French and
Indian war, belonged to a prominent Catholic by the name of Carl, which is
still known as Carl’s Manor. The heirs had persistently refused to sell any of
it until recently, which was the reason why it looked comparatively new.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We reached the station about noon, and learned that the
train from Harper’s Ferry for Baltimore did not pass there till 2:35, possibly
3 P.M., as the train had but recently run through Wheeling, and the road was
yet bad in the vicinity of Martinsburg. In a few minutes the up-train from B.
came thundering along, and in obedience to a little squint-eyed Irishman, who
beckoned it with a red flag, it halted just enough to set off and take on a
passenger, exchange mail and leave a package of Baltimore Sun, that puts down
Confederate victories under great capital headlines, and Union ones under
small, lauds Seymour and slurs the President, and talks of Peace Conventions
and Vallandigham’s “great speech.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As we were in a station, express and post-office, dwelling-place
and hotel, we ordered dinner and awaited distribution of the papers to the
group of villagers and countrymen that had crowded the room. No Clippers were
called for. A poppy-stalk fellow has caught sight of the news from Galveston
and reads aloud; then the probable loss of Springfield, and the repulse from
Vicksburg. The sudden flooding of a cellar with gas light could be no more
perceptible that the satisfaction lighted up the moody faces of the motley
group. But they contented themselves with mock congratulations over Union
victories and other sinister insinuations, such as the readers of the Sun might
be expected to indulge in without openly speaking their feelings.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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About 3 P.M. the train from Wheeling came, and in fifteen
minutes more we were at Frederick Junction. The 14th N.J. is stationed there.
The remains of one of their number was sent forward on the train. We changed
cars here and took the train for Frederick, where the branch terminates. We had
struck the Monocacy again, and moved around a curve that coincided with a bend
in the little placid river, that had shrunk to half its bigness at its mouth.
This section of the country, just rolling enough to break the monotony of a
prairie, and yet not hilly, was actually charming, and must be really beautiful
when clothed with verdure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The five miles more to Frederick was soon made. Up Market to
4th Street, a right-angle turn to the left, and we were on the road to the
hospital. Frederick is a neat little rural city, one of the earliest settled in
the State. We noticed on the market building the date “1769.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As we emerged from the suburbs we overtook a tall,
good-looking fellow limping with a cane. We thought we had seen the large brass
5 on his cap, in the Peninsular campaign, and we asked him what his regiment
was. “N.H. 5th.” “And what Company are you in?” “A.” “Do you know Sergeant R?”
“Yes.” “How is he?” No better, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2L49p9SRk965hb49g1GFJYwmAqcA-Kka95YjU70Wpf0O3v1DwDVAVIG6sW7bP1Km3tZ2pXUlgf5dTqFZzI3EBNtcNaCHKYw9J9GVBHnJFcpNv6AWDZQV82rikAmz4LOCl7kiLylPyZE/s1600/artemus.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2L49p9SRk965hb49g1GFJYwmAqcA-Kka95YjU70Wpf0O3v1DwDVAVIG6sW7bP1Km3tZ2pXUlgf5dTqFZzI3EBNtcNaCHKYw9J9GVBHnJFcpNv6AWDZQV82rikAmz4LOCl7kiLylPyZE/s400/artemus.png" width="284" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The humorist Artemus Ward</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And we hurried gloomily on until we overtook another. He was
Comp. A of the 4th R.I. Did he know Sergt. R? “Yes, had ransacked the country
with him for the last fortnight.” Why the good-looking chap made us the answer
he did has been a mystery. 4th R.I. offered to pilot us. We have entered the
lines of the encampment, that is guarded by the Md. Reg’t., and are among an
army of cripples, such as Artemus Ward says will court the prettiest girls in
the country hereafter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We wonder as we enter if he will look as pale and haggard as
the majority of those we have seen hobbling about. But there is music here and
there in the midst of that group, singing –<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“John Brown’s body lies<br />
mouldering in the dust,<o:p></o:p></div>
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But his soul goes marching on,”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
he stands. It was the same hymn that we sung together 6½
miles from Richmond, the 27th of June last, with this difference in our
physical status. We had then one good right arm to his pair; now he had one
good left, to our pair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We elbowed our way into the knot of incendiary minstrels,
and cuting short the last word by a slap on his shoulder (not the right because
there was a bullet hole there) it was “right and left two, promenade” to bunks
and “how are you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We determined to see Antietam, and so the next morning
obtained permission to take him who is lost but is found, with us. And as early
as possible we were jogging along over the magnificent macadamized turnpike
that runs to Sharpsburg, a distance of 22 miles. Two or three miles out, and we
began our ascent of the Catoctin Mountains, running up from Virginia, thro’ the
Potomac breaks at Point of Rocks.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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There was skirmishing in this pass, but no decisive conflict.
From the top of this pass, we had our first view of South Mountain, eight miles
in front of us. It is but the continuation of Blue Ridge, through which the
Potomac breaks at Harpers Ferry. Half-way between the two rides is the sunny
village of Middletown. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The picture spread out before us was grand. The valley, more
fertile if possible than the one from which we had ascended, stretched
southward indefinitely, and northward till environed by hills that seemed to be
offshoots of both chains of mountains. There were broad lands and hundreds of
comfort-breathing farmhouses standing out front the patchwork of forest and
field, and a tortuous little stream that would have reflected sunbeams just as
poetically as any other, had the clouds above permitted, and the church spires
of Middletown, with the mountains uncultivated more than one third of the way
up, and capped with snow, that transplanted our fancies to New England.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Had we not known to the contrary, we never should have
suspected that two hostile armies had passed through this beautiful region only
four months before. To be sure the fire-spots and corn-cobs would have excited
our wonder. There was now and then the half-decomposed carcass of a horse in
the fields, but they might have died of old age. It is wonderful that buildings
suffered so little injury. One barn only did we see in the entire route that
was burned; one that had cannon shot in its gable, and also one house was hit
near the ground. The first bridge we crossed, however, showed marks of fire, as
did the two next. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It occurred to us that we had never reined an animal that
enjoyed the manipulation of our whip so well as our nag, and thus, tho’ we
lamed our wrist in whipping, it was after 1 P.M. before we began to ascend the
historic pass of South Mountain. The pike makes the rise by an easy grade, but
the mountains on either side are very abrupt, particularly on the left. The
position of the enemy here was certainly a strong one. No forces could have
faced anything like equal numbers posted here.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInlHUj4wFKB7z2Xz76VQZGeQNeVB94C8PWlkHGQgiZhq4HTgu6Fj8Et6cI88BgOleGdV3ZlchILh2pc_m1SEONs-oyZGA1gQooE6GsE3b3IcHUxvS7mckhe0Z83yCdjVM0c14e8ic9zw/s1600/reno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInlHUj4wFKB7z2Xz76VQZGeQNeVB94C8PWlkHGQgiZhq4HTgu6Fj8Et6cI88BgOleGdV3ZlchILh2pc_m1SEONs-oyZGA1gQooE6GsE3b3IcHUxvS7mckhe0Z83yCdjVM0c14e8ic9zw/s320/reno.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maj, Gen, Jesse Reno, shot in the chest<br />
by a sharpshooter at South Mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, for this reason, Lee was attacked on either flank, and
the heaviest fighting took place two and a half to three miles to the right and
one and one-half to the left, where the ascent was less severe. But little
fighting took place here. Around the spur of the mountain Gen. Reno fell on the
Federal, and Gen. Garland [Brig. Gen. Samuel Garland Jr. was killed not far
from where Reno died] on the Rebel, side. This portion of the field was the
scene of one of the most bloody struggles in the war; but we had not time to
visit either of these points. Some time past 2 P.M. we gained the summit, where
we stopped for dinner at a comfortable country inn. Gen. G. </div>
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stopped here the night before the</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSt626hllwsKyuCHDgck8G_tbSv4GEA9Uy1xipzw57PkLrD8uaAcbyDdQPpHHxVTT3jP7PeiqXsuhD4hRCg4f6U_TVjFkAa5qLwcBY5-k7j5bdoGDiRenzpKPOb2Uo6Y-CCoi9xinHUXo/s1600/garlands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSt626hllwsKyuCHDgck8G_tbSv4GEA9Uy1xipzw57PkLrD8uaAcbyDdQPpHHxVTT3jP7PeiqXsuhD4hRCg4f6U_TVjFkAa5qLwcBY5-k7j5bdoGDiRenzpKPOb2Uo6Y-CCoi9xinHUXo/s200/garlands.jpg" width="163" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. Samuel Garland Jr.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
battle, and his
remains were borne here from the field. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our landlord had many thrilling
incidents to relate. Suddenly enveloped by the contending forces and hemmed in
by the mountains, it was difficult for him to escape. Until late in the afternoon
his family were in the house, while the battle was going on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When Gen. G.’s
body was removed, his wife and daughter, with their servants, succeeded in
following the train to Boonsboro, two and a half miles, where they awaited the
coming of our forces. One musket ball shattered a pane of glass, and grazing
the window frame, dropped on the floor. Musket balls hit the house in many
places, and just before the final retreat down the turnpike, a fierce artillery
duel ensued, for thirty minutes, which brought him between two fires, though
not exactly in range. More than a hundred shots were exchanged, yet no damage
was done to any of his buildings.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unconsciously we chatted with this quite agreeable family of
the battle until 4 o’clock. In the middle of the day the congealed mud and snow
thawed somewhat, but during our stay the thermometer reversed steam completely,
which resulted in making the roads very hard and smooth. Our nag was
smooth-shod and descended with great difficulty. For a rod he would slide on all
fours. Only the stiffness of his legs and joints prevented him from falling. We
had six miles to go and nearly an hour was consumed in getting own where there
was no snow, a mile from the top.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our companion was certain it was not the speed with which he
passed over the same distance last. It was on Monday morning Sept. 15th, the
day of the battle, that the 5th N.H. led the advance down this pass at
double-quick, and deployed as skirmishers right and left in the open country,
driving the enemy’s rear guard to the Antietam. Boonsboro’ was reached a little
before twilight. The 5th saved the bridge across the stream here. Two miles
further on, we pass Keediesville, which like Boonsboro’ and Middletown, is a
small compact village. Here the bridge was partially destroyed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3a1osnoKYmWDeCr6LUNIogr6fBQJqrDlzY0cP3C5QPY2u9oemhGjmUhUTkV-lJkF7RISXoIAhTFjkCCEKAkdrRrNiufhcVnZ46Qm6NLusUn0JOETeKSQU6vtZlc-Z0A8YkvwJ6dVaFFg/s1600/pry+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3a1osnoKYmWDeCr6LUNIogr6fBQJqrDlzY0cP3C5QPY2u9oemhGjmUhUTkV-lJkF7RISXoIAhTFjkCCEKAkdrRrNiufhcVnZ46Qm6NLusUn0JOETeKSQU6vtZlc-Z0A8YkvwJ6dVaFFg/s400/pry+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pry House</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A mile more and we have reached the point of so much
personal interest to the Sergeant as the place of his first three weeks’
suffering after the battle. The house of Philip Pry is engrafted into history
as the place where Gen. Richardson died, and McClellan had his headquarters.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We
resolved to ask the hospitalities of this spacious brick mansion. From his
recollection of the kindness of its little busy housewife, our friend was sure
we should be welcomed, and so we were.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The children recognized him at once. The kind hostess
greeted us as warmly as if we had been members of her family. Was not he the
gentleman that used to get milk of her after the battle. “Yes.” “I thought so.
Indeed I am right glad to see you. I remember you. How you would totter down to
the fence for it, and how I pitied you. I never expected to see you here again,
indeed I did not.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Learning that Lieut. George, of the 5th, [George Washington
George, whose left foot had been amputated after he was shot in the leg during
the battle] at was yet at the house of the adjoining farm, near the Antietam,
having lost his leg, we called on him, and found him very comfortable, and his
wife now with him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was at this house that Capt. Crafts did picket duty
Tuesday before the battle, and where he stopped while at Antietam. He had left
a metallic scabbard here that saved his leg by receiving a musket ball about
midway, doubling it to a right angle. The Sergeant was authorized to get it,
but the good man gave it reluctantly, for he said “he thought a heap of the
Captain.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghgSD80iAw7NzBjvd_2Z1DTgICs4r_ntKcMh5q2_vfLM1mkD3OrPYoju1BDpgJwn9IwQ3v7o7g4Ic3wg-1okVPw9zu-2llykDf4DJ_e-CT8M60pobusezBdlhIvX0ehfCbHzAwGhzlOk/s1600/richardson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghgSD80iAw7NzBjvd_2Z1DTgICs4r_ntKcMh5q2_vfLM1mkD3OrPYoju1BDpgJwn9IwQ3v7o7g4Ic3wg-1okVPw9zu-2llykDf4DJ_e-CT8M60pobusezBdlhIvX0ehfCbHzAwGhzlOk/s400/richardson.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. Israel Richardson, the 5h New Hampshire's<br />
division commander, killed at Antietam.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we returned we were shown the room that Gen. Richardson
died in, and the bed that Gens. McClellan and Hooker occupied the nights before
and after the battle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were astir early the next morning. The first place to be
visited was the strip of grass ground, above the sweet potato patch, between
two elms, next to the garden fence where the Sergeant’s tent was pitched before
going to Frederick. There were the blood-stained garments taken from him, the
beehive that he used to eat on, and the furrowed ridge up by the garden plowing
that made his pillow. Perhaps seventy-five feet and as many yards distant at
one point, but sharply bending back westerly above and below, and there on its
opposite bank and over that far-stretching, rolling country, was the mightiest
battle-field of America.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went to the spot where McClellan stood during the battle.
Our host [Philip Pry] from this point showed us all the places of special
interest. In that open oak patch Hooker fought, on the far right, two and a
half miles distant. A little apart and on the left of the grove near that lone
tree he was wounded. Across the open field, between this grove and another
further to the left, he saw the Rebels (and he did not mince the name with Confederates,
Lee’s forces, &c.) hurled in pell-mell flight by the stern columns of
Fighting Joe Hooker.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JgT2Bq1eJxSikoE4gtL-NNcSL_OHXknyJB_yupD63MLGq1BYyCs4XAJSfR5Zw2O_faXtInQEjPw9Ro6g-C275d9stBaW_nOoYh71GcVxTFpMa0LW9i7M2NAG8xOC3BNcxMOPyhfO8vw/s1600/1+-+Phillip+and+Samuel+Pry.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JgT2Bq1eJxSikoE4gtL-NNcSL_OHXknyJB_yupD63MLGq1BYyCs4XAJSfR5Zw2O_faXtInQEjPw9Ro6g-C275d9stBaW_nOoYh71GcVxTFpMa0LW9i7M2NAG8xOC3BNcxMOPyhfO8vw/s400/1+-+Phillip+and+Samuel+Pry.JPG" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brothers Philip and Samuel Pry (undated photo)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Immediately in front of us was the centre, where Sumner
fought. That was one of the corn-fields, the other was hid by a ridge. Between
those two sycamores, standing alone, Gen. Richardson was wounded by a shell.
Hundreds of wounded had been brought to his [Pry’s] place, and put in his
stables, or shelter tents, and many died, and immediately below us in a little
glen, through which a singing brook sought the quickest passage to the historic
creek, and where graceful oaks overshadowed them, was their fitting burial
place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. P. had caused them to be placed in rows and head-boards
put to those whose names were known. More than a score mingle their ashes here.
A Captain from Pennsylvania; a Lieutenant with a difficult German name from
New-York; Wm. Yates, Co. B, 5th N.H.; “Unknown” (how melancholy the
inscription, an Unknown gone to the Unknown) Co. B, 52d N.Y.; and yet another,
Co. D, 4th N.Y.; and here is a synonym for unknown, Rebel, 5th Ga. Yet had the
three met three years ago they would have known each other as citizens of the
same great Republic.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unconsciously we had tarried here far beyond our intended
time. And, after receiving all the directions necessary to see the most in our
limited time and the hearty good wishes of the family, we bid them adieu, and
crossing the creek a mile above them, were travelling on the borders of the
battle scene. We took our way to Smoketown, where Hooker first began to
skirmish, and then turning to the left followed the great war path towards
Sharpsburg and the centre. We took what a native said was “Bloody Lane” – which
was not though – and soon reached the woods.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thus far we had seen the battle ground at a distance. The
fences that had been torn down in the fray had for the most part been repaired,
but here we were on the battle ground, travelling in a great cemetery. Graves
were thick here, and there were mounds that hold our enemies. The trees were
not to be repaired like the fences. Their trunks mottled with bullet holes told
of a terrible conflict. Some had a hundred of them! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3f4E1fXU5D3HIQRqSIo905Z8wBT-WmTF0Ur94r8XIPGNOLk2GrnmlLalJYWD5UbZQtigLaZAL1pXHP27ZnYeUBIK8YKDNrIeLoD9hPIlhjLBBxTaf_9gmUStVcPYBl-SyFge4OcRKcTA/s1600/dunker-church-antitetam-P.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3f4E1fXU5D3HIQRqSIo905Z8wBT-WmTF0Ur94r8XIPGNOLk2GrnmlLalJYWD5UbZQtigLaZAL1pXHP27ZnYeUBIK8YKDNrIeLoD9hPIlhjLBBxTaf_9gmUStVcPYBl-SyFge4OcRKcTA/s640/dunker-church-antitetam-P.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the battle: the Dunker Church at Antietam</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Others had been there before, as the numerous rutted ways
leading to places of special interest, where we had not time to visit, told us,
and had gathered most desirable relics. There were unexploded shells, but we
were wary. Through the timber, into the open field, into and through the next
wood, and a ride of half a mile across the fields strewn with coats, hats,
boots, shoes, knapsacks, cartridge boxes, &c., where graves were as thick
as corn-hills, and we reach the turnpike again at Dunker Church and in sight of
Sharpsburg. This superannuated brick building was completely riddled with
artillery and battered by musket shots. The greatest concentration of fire was
upon the adjacent twenty acres. Fences were shattered in splinters, trees
broken and broomed, and whole fields tramped hard as a travelled way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But we had not seen “Bloody Lane” and so as we turned our
backs on Sharpsburg, we enquired of a boy that we came up with where it was?
“Do you mean the place where the Irish Brigade fought?” “Yes.” “Right over
there, sir,” pointing to the left, “take the first lane.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our companion [Eldad Rhodes], coming upon the field from a
different direction than when in battle, and the surroundings so much changed,
was partially lost. But as we turned down the pike again he recovered his
bearings. We were now on the Rebel position where the attack was made.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Literally the ground was with a covered rag carpet, and as
we reached an angle where another lane comes in, there was blood. Rain had
fallen during the night and in a little basin that the weather had made from
horse tracks were pools of water sufficient to bathe, your hands stained a
brick color with human gore, shed precisely sixteen weeks before. Near by was a
mound and yet a pit, a mound in the middle, but as if something beneath the
mound had settled and with it (which was a fact) the outlines of the pit were
traceable several yards in perimeter. And this was the charnel house of some of
those whose blood still stained the soil.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16xU9DJRYOkOJe_915J3ZlM7mNxwNlY65pLYJ_c89Z9pQhAQ4UA88awOkvWQEsIxju7cfYmBFgKJLFNjS_PQcyHQVOPdHYDkUJSbWQY67LSzfo_psPaWePj47a5P5smP596m2e8XD-Q0/s1600/4th+North+Carolina+Battle+Flag+%2528captured+at+Antietam%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16xU9DJRYOkOJe_915J3ZlM7mNxwNlY65pLYJ_c89Z9pQhAQ4UA88awOkvWQEsIxju7cfYmBFgKJLFNjS_PQcyHQVOPdHYDkUJSbWQY67LSzfo_psPaWePj47a5P5smP596m2e8XD-Q0/s400/4th+North+Carolina+Battle+Flag+%2528captured+at+Antietam%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 4th North Carolina flag, captured at Antietam by George<br />
Nettleton of the 5th New Hampshire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We alighted and walked to the place where the 5th N.H.
captured the 4th N.C. colors, and stood on the spot where not a traitor’s
tho’t, but a traitor’s ball, entered the Sergeant’s breast, and then we turned
to the spot in the lane to which he tottered, and where he lay near an hour
between two terrible armies, his blood mingling with the stream that literally
flowed in the path. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we turned to the carriage again how fervently we thanked
heaven that the dark angel passed him thus over in his
carnival. There were fragments of shells here in profusion, and gathering of
the souvenirs, we regained the turnpike and crossed the Antietam unable to
visit the scene of Burnside’s conflict, at the next bridge one and a half mile
below. The road ran up through a ravine to the higher land and here was the
scene of the 5th’s skirmishing on Monday. The stone wall on the right was their
cover and the barn half way up from the stream was the one by which Col. Cross
stood when his shoulder strap was shot away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One more incident. Co. B took some prisoners on the Old
Sharpsburg Road that runs parallel with the pike to Middletown, at a house a
mile or more from the creek. Only one gun was taken and this was given to the
owner of the place. We turned aside to make inquiries for it, and to our
surprise it was there, and as our friend claimed a special interest in it, as
one instrumental in its capture, we added it to our trophies, then regaining
the pike at Boonsboro’ made the quickest time to Frederick possible, and the
day following, by car and John Adams’ Express, we came safely to Poolsville. –
F.M.R.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/14-epilogue-two-soldiers-home-from-wars.html">Home from the war, an epilogue</a></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-45396564686439965942015-09-15T07:19:00.001-04:002015-09-17T07:22:32.714-04:0012. What use am I here? Why am I here? <div class="MsoNormal">
[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/11-we-were-hurried-to-deadly-fire-and.html">previous post</a>]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Neither devotion to the Union cause nor the perceived Union victory
at Antietam stopped Cutler Edson’s slide from optimism to despair. A year of
dashed hopes and campaigning’s toll on his body darkened his mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0r_S65DJR67m0xlyv9AhLl-X3c1NB9e3_KSNTae0VlZ0Jza7eUA-j_hdXbILX8kFKTbz8g0NoJ6Fvog4-W5Lo-i7FaILedAWMsqFykoziKO8UFNbyootEfg5r7gxW7T24zmC-Z9qxR0/s1600/5th+NH+Musician+Cutler+Edson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0r_S65DJR67m0xlyv9AhLl-X3c1NB9e3_KSNTae0VlZ0Jza7eUA-j_hdXbILX8kFKTbz8g0NoJ6Fvog4-W5Lo-i7FaILedAWMsqFykoziKO8UFNbyootEfg5r7gxW7T24zmC-Z9qxR0/s400/5th+NH+Musician+Cutler+Edson.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutler Edson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Upon enlisting as a bugler in the Fifth New Hampshire
Volunteers, he had shared the preconceptions of most of his comrades. The Union
army was superior, the will of the South weak, they believed. The war could not
last long. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Time and events proved Edson wrong. In battle and in caring
for the sick and wounded, he had witnessed firsthand what war could do. He had
seen that strong young men were no match for minie balls and artillery shells. He
had held the hands of sick boys as they breathed their last. He had learned to distrust the grand plans of generals. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On an even more personal level, Edson had watched the neglect
of Sgt. Eldad Rhodes after Rhodes was shot at Antietam. As he nursed Rhodes, he
fought just to put food in their mouths. And he was weary himself of meager meals
and wet, chilly nights. His self-worth sank with the fortunes of his shrunken regiment. What good had he done? What good could he do?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edson poured out these thoughts to Sister Folsom, the wife
of his Methodist pastor in Enfield, N.H., in two letters 40 days apart in the
fall of 1862. The second was written from a hospital in Washington, D.C.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This chapter closes with a final word from Eldad Rhodes,
bidding adieu to 1862, a year “frought with sadness and carnage.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson letter<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Datelined In Camp on
Arlington Heights, Va., Oct. 26/62, to My Dear Sister Folsom<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I delayed answering yours of 24 sept until now thinking that
I should see Bro Folsom* and have more to write about but I have given up the
idear for the present. Mr. Ingals** was over to the 11th yesterday. He says
they have everything packed up for a march. Don’t know where they are going,
probably some distance, for he says they ware to take 6 days rations. Brother
Folsoms health is as good as usul. Am very sorry I could not have the privilege
of seeing him and others of the regt but thus it is. I have learned how to be
disappointed and how to endure it. it is the common lot of the soldier to be
disappointed and I have bin at school a year in the department. I aught to know
something about it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn2N9dyRhf7Igm6sCFeWBSChRmEmB33fG11ejHfzdPyWf1TlvpMtivm1RunglnpSh_hynIzm5GJE-F8nllw1KohpF4pUPFmaN1TZFMrqNseGxTTs1UjTUOJYia2Y4fJR8qwP8bfTlQkI/s1600/BolivarHeights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn2N9dyRhf7Igm6sCFeWBSChRmEmB33fG11ejHfzdPyWf1TlvpMtivm1RunglnpSh_hynIzm5GJE-F8nllw1KohpF4pUPFmaN1TZFMrqNseGxTTs1UjTUOJYia2Y4fJR8qwP8bfTlQkI/s400/BolivarHeights.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bolivar Heights, where McClellan rested his army after Antietam</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
You ask how I fair now, if our rations are the same as the
year round. Our fair is very inferior to what it was last winter. then we lived
comparatively well to what we do now. We had our soft bread then the most of
the time but since then it has bin very seldom that we have had it. We get plenty
of hard bread and much of the time that is very poor, moldy and wormey in
conciquence of it getting wet in the boxes, but the good lord has bin pleased
to prosper me so that by shrude manageing and strict economy I have managed to
board my self the most of the time since last July. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This has bin very fortunate for me as I have not felt well a
good deal of the time and could not relish government fair. I have bin quite
lame with Reheumatism since I have bin here on the hill but have got over it
now and should feele quite well if it were not for a hard head ache that has
bin troubleing me since yesterday, but think I shal be free from it soon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You ask if I am comfortably cloathed. I get along very well
for every thing except flannel draws and shirts which I nead very much. We
cannot draw any thing here but cotton and that is not the thing for my already
shattered constitution. Hope there will be a way opened so that I shal get them
before long.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have been obliged several times to throw away our
cloathing and even our blankets and knapsacks on some of our forward marches
before we went into battle. We are in a very cold bleak place right on the very
peak of Arlington Hights. here lays the Shenandore valley and river on one end
and the Potomack on the other. The junction of Harpers Fery which is about 1
mile east of us. Whether we shall stay here all winter or not I don’t know but
hope we shall get orders soon to move to some favorable place.***<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I see that my little sheet is almost full and I must
draw to a close. Mr. Ingals is well and so are the rest of our acquaintances as
far as I know and now may the grace of almighty God ever sustain you in all
your trials and privations is the prayer of your Brother Cutler Edson<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Horace F. Folsom,
Edson’s 43-year-old pastor, had enlisted as a private in the 11th New Hampshire
Volunteers. The regiment had mustered in August and left Concord for the front
on Sept. 11. Its colonel was Walter Harriman, later governor of New
Hampshire. Folsom transferred to the
Invalid Corps in early 1864 and served out his three-year enlistment. He died
Oct. 3, 1878, in Townsend, Mass.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[**Melvin Luther Ingalls, 27, of Hanover, was a musician in
the 5th’s Company C. He later served as
a lieutenant in the 1st New Hampshire Heavy Artillery and worked on the
railroad for 33 years after the war, mainly as a conductor. A Mason and a tenor
soloist in his church choir, he lived till 1903.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[***As Edson’s
description confirms, he was actually with the 5th on Bolivar Heights, not
Arlington Heights. The order to move he wished for came a few days later. The
5th marched to a camp near Falmouth, Va. On Dec. 13, the regiment was crushed at
Fredericksburg, but Edson did not participate in that battle.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson letter<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Dateline St. Aloyisus
Hospital Ward B, Washington, DC, Dec. 5th/62, to My Dear Sister Folsom<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaKENq-EZvUB0phvt5SJ4AuhuUD_kTgagbP1n0cTlvsxeVJDU9uf_xvXYyIu20IcIjUgtwjVQuSM_8AMCJbcrvMEDg7sJEUkcuf3IhSteohpK17QeE57BmtJaXEVmjGuS-6zDwg3Me-8/s1600/St._Aloysius_Church.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaKENq-EZvUB0phvt5SJ4AuhuUD_kTgagbP1n0cTlvsxeVJDU9uf_xvXYyIu20IcIjUgtwjVQuSM_8AMCJbcrvMEDg7sJEUkcuf3IhSteohpK17QeE57BmtJaXEVmjGuS-6zDwg3Me-8/s400/St._Aloysius_Church.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Aloysius Church in Washington, D.C., became a military hospital in 1862.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
as I was museing this morning after partaking of my humble
repast, thoughts came to my mind something like these. of what use am I here. I
am doing nothing, neither am I able to do any thing of any amount and why am I
here. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It seams as though there was a great deficiency in our
government when a man gets worn out in the service of his country and good for
nothing. Why not let him go home and if he can get along and get a living with
out help let him do it. other wise provide means there for his support,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here I am anxiously waiting to know what they will do with
me, whether they will discharge me or send me to some other hospital or to my
Regt or keep me here. It will make little difference to me what they do with me
if I am only in the way of duty but I am let to think some times when man
orders and directs without the fear of God before him that we are not always
placed in the path of duty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It has always bin my desire from a child that I might be of
some use in the world but I have it to regret that I have not always placed
myself in that position that I have bin of much use to any one. If the good
Lord sees fit to spare my unprofitable life and restore my health I mean to be
more faithful the remainder of my life than I have bin. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I look back a little more than a year and see what a
change has taken place in my cistem tears often fill my eyes, Then I was a
tough healthy robust man. Now it seams as though I was but a mear reck of
humanity. I am not suffering much now although there is several different
complaints about me. Am in hopes time and proper care will wear them away so
that I shal yet enjoy tolerable help.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have not got reduced down very poor yet or at least do not
show it much in my face. Think if I could be at home now I should gain finely
but this is beyond my power.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I recvd your kind letter of Nov 26 which cheared me up and
done me a great deal of good, I wish there were others of my good Sisters and
Brothers that would take panes to write ne as chering and comeforting epistles.
You never can know the good it does the poor soldier to recv kind letters from
his old friends. But in all my wandering thoughts and curious idears I have
presented this morning I would not have you think me unhappy, far from it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That same God that sustained and blessed me whilst in Old
Enfield [N.H.] is my support and comforter in the Hospital. I find it good and
safe to trust him always and under all circumstances. Oh! How baran and
destitute mus be the sole without the love and favor of God, especially when
sickness and adversity comes upon him it is then he neads the comforting
influence of the religion of Jesus Christ. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your old friend and Brother in Christ Cutler Edson<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes's diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[After a lapse since Oct. 1, there is this single, final
entry.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday [Dec.] 31</i>:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thus ends the year, with all its trials, its hopes and
fears, its joys and sorrows.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Adieu old year, with all thy decreptitude adieu; many a pang
of sorrow and remorse has attended thy rapid course to the dim land of dreams.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yet we are glad thou are gone old year, so frought with
sadness and carnage. Who could wish the return?
Who would detain thee in thy rapid flight toward eternity;<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thou hast deluged our land in blood old year:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thou hast made thousands of once happy homes dessolate and
the wail of stricken ones is heard where once the song and reckless shout
resound<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
History will record thy dead old year; what a page will it
be, so loaded down with Crimes and Guilt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
E
A Rhodes<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/13-two-brothers-on-mission-in-wartime.html">A return to Antietam</a><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-83543085866549766722015-09-12T07:32:00.000-04:002015-09-15T18:30:18.988-04:0011. ‘we were hurried to the deadly fire and fought like men’[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/10-we-are-growing-dainty-on-hard-bread.html">Previous post</a>]<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sgt. Eldad Rhodes’s time recovering from his wound at
Malvern Hill had given him time to think. He had steamed for the Peninsula with
a huge, well prepared army and high expectations. Events there had disheartened
him, and his treatment in a hospital and a replacement station soured him
further. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBtxMBSfrAQRywGWWIMbZwsXZkwnyIo9Mn2D1IgKZ3yJlGbLdwGJpz7EFim8SP3U9lcimONmsUkGOsoUDhz9-6qBPkk0U3cm3WBbuy-G5hXZUwqaNVwhbKfEj7pShuQllSFC16S9eg0A/s1600/ant+bloody+lane+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBtxMBSfrAQRywGWWIMbZwsXZkwnyIo9Mn2D1IgKZ3yJlGbLdwGJpz7EFim8SP3U9lcimONmsUkGOsoUDhz9-6qBPkk0U3cm3WBbuy-G5hXZUwqaNVwhbKfEj7pShuQllSFC16S9eg0A/s400/ant+bloody+lane+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5th New Hampshire fought near present-day observation tower at Antietam. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In September 1862, about a year after he volunteered and
four days after Union forces lost a second battle at Bull Run, Rhodes
unburdened himself in a letter to his parents. It was good to know they had
confidence in the Union army, he wrote, but he considered the cause “lost, lost
hopelessly, lost forever.” Recent Confederate victories had pressed Union
forces back to Washington “to hover about within sight of the Dome of the
Capitol for its defence.”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhodes took these bitter sentiments with him as he set out
to rejoin the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers on the march into Maryland. His
journal discloses no sense of where the regiment was bound, as was normal for a
soldier on the move, but the advance was relentless and the way “thronged with
soldiers.” <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For Rhodes and his comrades, the destination turned out to
be the Sunken Lane at Antietam. And what happened there brought Rhodes together
with Cutler Edson, the second narrator of this saga of the 5th New Hampshire’s
first 15 months.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes letter<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Datelined Sept 3 ’62,
Post Hospital near Alexandria Va., to Dear Parents</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Your very welcome letter arrived to day and you may judge
that I was glad to hear once more from home not having heard from you for about
6 weeks; – Well when I wrote you I had sore in my throat & which has now
got well and my foot also is healed up and nearly as strong as the other; –<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJfjG1KBfsnOQCI2wUMuQs31nx-b2HZqzgYJO-GBa6SOFN297rJwPUsOECiGAY7h0C5v5Vne-N2aAlYXenE5znyeZp5J1lGK3k6jKmtz0_LXJNhNApRg9mppsYKyQhl3lftV0R-PkprQ/s1600/Major-General-John-Pope-cor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJfjG1KBfsnOQCI2wUMuQs31nx-b2HZqzgYJO-GBa6SOFN297rJwPUsOECiGAY7h0C5v5Vne-N2aAlYXenE5znyeZp5J1lGK3k6jKmtz0_LXJNhNApRg9mppsYKyQhl3lftV0R-PkprQ/s400/Major-General-John-Pope-cor.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maj. Gen. John Pope, the conceited commander who<br />
told his new Eastern troops before Manassas: "I have<br />
come to you from the West, where we have always<br />
seen the backs of our enemies."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There has been terrible fighting for several days past at
and near Manassus. we could hear the cannonading very plain all day yesterday.
the road was filled with wagon trains and ambulances hurrying in from the scene
of conflict; I have talked today with a
number of straglers, who say our whole Army are falling back, having been
worsted by the Rebels; – I am inclined to think its true and that the Army of
the Potomac are to defend the Capitol until the new quota of Troops arrive.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
thus our Army so recently menacing Richmond are obliged to
huddle around Washington for its defense.
I am glad you have so much courage and confidence in our Army – but as
for me I consider our cause as “lost, lost hopelessly lost forever.” You need
not let it be known that I said this; –<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The South united and fighting with Demoniac desperation have
driven us from the Peninsula, have defeated us in the recent desperate
conflicts at Manassas, and now our whole proud Armys are compelled to hover
about within sight of the Dome of the Capitol for its defence; – <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You speak of the new troops that are coming to our rescue; –
Well what if they do come; – before they are properly drilled for the field,
winter will again set in and the Army of the Potomac will again drag out
another weary winter on the Potomac and when they at last take the field, the
question is will they be any better drilled or any better fighting men than the
600000 that have dwindled away before them???<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The time was not many months ago when if McClellan could
have had his way this trouble would have been settled now. The Rebels are
getting an immense army and their supplies are in just as fare a way to hold
out 18 months longer as they were for the past 18 months; –<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But don't think from this that I am afraid of them! NO!! it
is not the Rebels that are defeating us but our own Generals and Officials. The
Rebels have out Generaled us; – Pope has not proved himself to any thing grate
yet, but let the matter rest here.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shall join the Regt as soon as I can find out where they
are. Tell Freedom* to write to me at the Regt and when I get there I shal get
it. love to all. write soon. a letter from home is a welcome visitor anytime.
direct to the Regt as before. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remain as ever your affectionate Son. <o:p></o:p><br />
E.A. Rhodes<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHWhwxYPvDPnHX9LCS0Cl-hqM784wBmXDz9hqsTJwDHRSzVRISdAuDfpFOgAaQohaeA-mla34_SFEsgpELz6NKmjmNwESgRV06VNUYyNmyi-j0sQ5qCPCmMKKlKshME-SkWKlGRJ9b8U/s1600/Enoch+Q.+Fellows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHWhwxYPvDPnHX9LCS0Cl-hqM784wBmXDz9hqsTJwDHRSzVRISdAuDfpFOgAaQohaeA-mla34_SFEsgpELz6NKmjmNwESgRV06VNUYyNmyi-j0sQ5qCPCmMKKlKshME-SkWKlGRJ9b8U/s400/Enoch+Q.+Fellows.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enoch Fellows, colonel of the 9th New Hampshire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[*Freedom Rhodes, his brother]</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday, September 4,
1862</i>: Weather very warm; – I got permetion to start for Gen Sumners Corps;
– which we heard was at Chain bridge. we marched about 7 miles and camped near
the 9 NH Regt, quite tired, visited the Regt. saw many that I knew.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The 9th New Hampshire had just formed in Concord, traveled
south and encamped on Arlington Heights. Eight days earlier, when the 5th New
Hampshire marched past, the veterans’ ragged, stripped-down and in some cases
barefoot condition had shocked the fresh-clad, over-equipped 9th. “My God!”
said one of them. “Shall we ever look like that?” Soon enough, the men of the 9th
would be tossing away their blankets and overcoats on the march up South
Mountain.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 5</i>: Resumed
our journey early. arrived at the Chain Bridge at noon. got dinner and crossed
the Bridge toward Tenley Town. our Corps left this after noon for Poolsville,
and we camped for the night near a good spring.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Rhodes was trying to catch up with the 5th New Hampshire
on its advance into Maryland.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 6</i>:
Resumed our march at noon, the Boys being tired; – Marched by Tenley Town about
3 Miles; and camped in a splendid grove near an other good spring. quite tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday, September 7,
1862</i>: We arose early and marched up through Rockville. everything is
thronged with soldiers; – Reached my Regt at noon, found the Boys doing well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 8:</i> Weather
warm; – We were in Camp all the fore noon. at noon we packed up and marched 7
miles up through the Country (went on picket at night).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 9</i>: We
marched about 4 miles to day. weather warm. are very hungry, have nothing
issued to us. we forage for our own living.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday, September
10, 1862</i>: Resumed our march early. weather rainy and disagreeable. Marched
up to Clarksburg within 4 miles of the Rebel pickets.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 11</i>: We
marched untill about 4 OC.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 12</i>: Camped
on a hill near a house. are no rations and killed some pigs in the evening. tomorrow
we march toward Frederic City.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday, September
13, 1862</i>: We were on the move early toward Frederic City; marched about 5
miles and came in sight of the City below in the valley. marched through the
City in the after noon – great joy was
manifested.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*The people of Frederick, Md., welcomed the Union troops
with music, bunting, flag-waving and lemonade.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 14</i>: We had
a severe march to day; – heavy fighting ahead; – weather very warm and dusty – camped
at night at the foot of the mountain where the Battle was fought.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*South Mountain.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Monday 15</i>: We
marched early up the mountain – dead lay thick among the rocks – followed the
enemy several miles. had a skirmish with the Rebels. Camped on the field.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Tuesday, September 16,
1862</i>: Shelling commenced in the morning, very brisk in the after noon. 4 Co's from our Regt (B included) went down
to guard a farmers hous from the Rebels. exchanged shots with them. no damage
done.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK550dbKvRzgBCu4tAXPB7Ahu0gYGA9UV_AGLUogr8sUo5W-hC37rPbjaeFKa67lmDOW29MmoBaAX5C86aIW0INHruX8GHps20xOwZeQYDgrIpse-SVZ1GZFj4jm5-3PEkPepH01hIPUs/s1600/eldad%2527s+shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK550dbKvRzgBCu4tAXPB7Ahu0gYGA9UV_AGLUogr8sUo5W-hC37rPbjaeFKa67lmDOW29MmoBaAX5C86aIW0INHruX8GHps20xOwZeQYDgrIpse-SVZ1GZFj4jm5-3PEkPepH01hIPUs/s400/eldad%2527s+shirt.jpg" width="328" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhodes was wearing this shirt when he was shot at Antietam,<br />
Bullet hole and blood are visible.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i></i><i>Wednesday 17</i>: We
were relieved this morning at (9 oc), joined the Column to attack the Enemy.
the Bullets now raged fearfully. we were hurried in to the deadly fire and
fought like men. I was wounded through the right lung, succeeded in getting
back to the rear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Thursday 18</i>:
Passed a wakeful night. to day many of the wounded were moved to an other
hospital, I among them. am quite weak and feeble. Spit a good deal of Blood. My
wound is not so painful as might be expected.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Rhodes was hospitalized in the Pry barn, near where the
5th had camped the night before the battle.]
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Friday, September 19,
1862</i>: Nothing was done for me to day by the Dr. poor arrangements these for
wounded men – an old barn with nothing to eat. I am in a tent with 3 friends
who take good care of me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i>Saturday 20</i>: Am doing well. the Dr made out to dress my wound
this after noon; – The Rebs have left; – weather fine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 21</i>: A
beautiful day. am feeling better. Cap Crafts came to see me this evening. likewise
N.B.E. Bickford.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Welcome Crafts was the captain of Rhodes’s Company B. Nathan
B.E. Bickford was a 22-year-old Co. B private who, like both Rhodes and Crafts,
came from the New Hampshire North Country.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, September 22,
1862</i>: Weather remains beautiful. Many have been removed to day for the
North. I hope to go soon. Am still improving in strength. wound does well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 23</i>: no
signs of our moving from this place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 24</i>: No
change in the program. I am getting along as well as one could expect under the
circumstances.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday, September
25, 1862</i>: Weather beautiful. Am about the same. wound doing well. no signs
of getting away. a grate government this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 26</i>: the
Drum Major left for the Regt to day.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*The drum major led a regiment’s fife and drum corps,
consisting of 10 drummers and 10 fifers drawn from the 10 companies. Corps
calls signaled movements in battle and regulated camp life. The 5th’s drum
major was Ephraim McDaniel, at 43 years old a contemporary of Cutler Edson’s.
McDaniel was from Freedom, N.H. Most likely he was ill and had been with Rhodes
in the Pry Farm barn hospital. He rejoined the 5th at Bolivar Heights near
Harpers Ferry but was discharged for disability four weeks later.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 27</i>: am
about the same. nothing new is going on, no signs of leaving.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNwPZ1VEXiAAwtKKeAymedzC7H6MRhqNcshAYNj_-KWvvr3czTpdlAgR0FSIYlfvovegIy87PEU6WOgRURnhdjzSpT5AwtyDCLtFu83Zvjb68VrxcFL-8K0uMHs3BWwIl55GDBhZOCzQ/s1600/Civil+War+pencil+drawing+black+and+white.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNwPZ1VEXiAAwtKKeAymedzC7H6MRhqNcshAYNj_-KWvvr3czTpdlAgR0FSIYlfvovegIy87PEU6WOgRURnhdjzSpT5AwtyDCLtFu83Zvjb68VrxcFL-8K0uMHs3BWwIl55GDBhZOCzQ/s640/Civil+War+pencil+drawing+black+and+white.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldad Rhodes made this drawing of himself and Cutler Edson sitting by their tent during his recuperation near the Pry house after the battle of Antietam. Eldad (left) is wearing sergeant's stripes and his lame right arm hangs at his side.<br />
(Drawing and shirt photo courtesy of Fred Goodwin)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>September 28, 1862</i>: Weather very warm. Mr Edson my nurse is sick today. Mr. Yates of Co, B died this evening in the Hospital.<br />
<br />
[*This is the first time either Rhodes or Edson mentioned
the other by name, although it is almost certain that Edson helped Rhodes from
the field after his wound at Malvern Hill. Private William Yates was 36 years
old and from Milan in New Hampshire’s North Country. He had been wounded at
Antietam.]<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 29</i>: No
change in things in general. I am on the
gain. no propect of being moved. had a letter from home to day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 30</i>: Mr
Edson went to town in the evening after a few articles. may God take vengeance
on those who will abuse wounded soldiers like this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday, October 1,
1862</i>: Some firing toward Harpers ferry. Saw the Balloon. am getting along
well. Wrote home to day.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/12-what-use-am-i-here-why-am-i-here.html">Even buglers get the blues</a></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-62635982731813790062015-09-08T06:35:00.001-04:002015-09-08T22:36:22.784-04:0010. 'we are growing dainty on hard bread and tainted pork'<div class="MsoNormal">
[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/9-malvern-hill-kind-friends-alone.html">Previous post</a>]<br />
<br />
The 5th New Hampshire Volunteers idled at Harrison’s Landing
on the James River for nearly a month and a half. It then marched to Newport
News and steamed back to Aquia Creek, a Union depot on Potomac River tributary. This journey ended the Peninsula campaign. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJm3lNWX-OgmhvNpHLciST1tpwHoq5rTuobZ8RvyiKVhT3C78bj9FzumU3mgPkatqajHK7JqlMwfl0JcB47ub4bxECWgR5aa-ukCNL9OOoU2I4HcWynPhngsLrTz02nWsFr-L-FG44EpY/s1600/GenJohnPope.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJm3lNWX-OgmhvNpHLciST1tpwHoq5rTuobZ8RvyiKVhT3C78bj9FzumU3mgPkatqajHK7JqlMwfl0JcB47ub4bxECWgR5aa-ukCNL9OOoU2I4HcWynPhngsLrTz02nWsFr-L-FG44EpY/s400/GenJohnPope.jpeg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. John Pope</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The regimental commander, Col. Edward E. Cross, who had been recuperating at home in
Lancaster, N.H., from his Fair Oaks wounds, rejoined the 5th just before its voyage. He found his officers and men dispirited, tired and
homesick. “A great battle would not have damaged us more,” he wrote to a
friend. A staunch Democrat, he blamed not McClellan but the Lincoln
administration for the failed campaign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
In fact, McClellan had botched his own grand plan. He had also
abandoned it so deliberately that, most likely by design, his army arrived too late
to help Gen. John Pope at the second Bull Run battle in late August.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
This segment of the story of the early months of the 5th New
Hampshire as told through the eyes of two soldiers begins on July 12, 1862, with
our protagonists in different places. Cutler Edson, the bugler, is camping with
the regiment at Harrison’s Landing. Sgt. Eldad Rhodes is in Union
Hospital in Georgetown recovering from his July 1 foot wound at Malvern Hill.
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Their moods also diverged. Until a
crackdown on peddling, Edson reveled in the commercial opportunities of camp
life. Rhodes, meanwhile, became increasingly bored, then bitter about medical care for Union soldiers.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 12</i>:
Bought a few Lemons and a few pounds of Sugar which I made into Lemon aid which
sold very readily which I cleared a little something.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday July 13=1862</i>:
General inspection but on account of my head not being very clear did not go
out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhSOA6Etb9cYKmspm_Rj4M5rmO19zqIV179dn06JID3SSywJM6IaYJRTD6SYsz1mJvY3C06rGVVYKuLTyHt2e0yt-yCJzRe0bjx9FOUHVfFEtmkureJd4Anu99DHsCS4tQ1lktoariis/s1600/harriison%2527s+landing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhSOA6Etb9cYKmspm_Rj4M5rmO19zqIV179dn06JID3SSywJM6IaYJRTD6SYsz1mJvY3C06rGVVYKuLTyHt2e0yt-yCJzRe0bjx9FOUHVfFEtmkureJd4Anu99DHsCS4tQ1lktoariis/s640/harriison%2527s+landing.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gunboats on the James River protected McClellan's army at Harrison's Landing</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Monday 14</i>: Sold
Maple Sugar & Lemon Aid on which I made tolerable well. my health has bin
better. have just recd letters from home, No 35, and Sister Abbie & Bro
Folsom by the way of A. Comins* which came in to day. he brot likewise the
picturs of my 5 children. how can I expres my gratitude, it cannot be done. it
affordes me a great deal of comefort to look upon those once familear faces
which have but very little changed since I last beheld and took my farewell
leave of them most 9 months ago. hope I shal greet them again before 9 months
passes.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Like Edson, Albert G. Cummings, a lieutenant in the 5th,
lived in Enfield, N.H. He had been wounded at Fair Oaks on June 1 and gone home to recuperate.] <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 15</i>: this
has bin another buisy day with me. sold 9 pales full of Lemon aid and a lot of
Stationary. no war news and
everything seams quiet in camp.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 16</i>: this
has bin a grand day for my Lemon Aid business. cleared a handsome profit. we
were mustered to day for our pay.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 17</i>: Wrote
a letter to wife, then went to making and seling Lemon Aid. it has bin quite
warm and a thunder shower at knight as usual. buisness seams quite brisk. quite
a number have bot stuf of the sutler and have gone to pedling.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 18</i>: 9
months to day since I enlisted in the Army. varyous have bin the changes since
then but the good Lord has wonderfully sustained me and led me in paths I know
not of and I still feele willing to be led by him for I know he doith all
things well. Sold about 12 dollars worth of dryed apple for 25 cts per pound
and 20 dollars worth of Lemonaid. recd a letter from Bro Jewett.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 19</i>: Wrote
to wife and sent her 50 dollars by express. recd a letter from her, No 36. was
glad to learn that she had heard from me since we left before Richmond. have
made and sold 20 dollars worth of Leamonaid. I feal very greatful that I can
earn something besides the small wages that the government alows me.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*A private’s pay was $13 a month.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Letter from Cutler
Edson to his wife<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i>Datelined Harrison’s Landing, Va., July 19, 1862, to “My
dear Wife”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
God has wonderfully prospered me of late in worldly matters
so that I am enabled to send you fifty dollars. Take of this what you want for
your own comfort and pay debts with the rest. There will be 18 dollars due Mr
Meril sometime in August for interest on our place. it can be paid any time.
When you pay Sister Strong take out the 8 dollars and give them Crosses recpt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
My health is quite good. Oscar Collins health is poor but he
is so that he is about. Ezra Aldrich health is poor, has been ever since he had
measles at Camp California. He lost his spunck then and never has regained it.
The rest of our ackuantance about as usual.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
No particular war news of late. every thing seams very quiet
around here. There is great demand for Lemonaid here and I have permission to
make and sell what I please. Yesterday I sold about 12 dollars worth of dries
apple. This with my other dutyes keeps me pretty buisy but I am good for it
yet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Have just recd yours of the 15, No. 36. I shall write to Bro
Folsom to you soon in regard to a lot in the Cemetary. I don’t want any one to
turn in our lot after it is mowed but I must close praying God will abundantly
bless you all with health and spiritual blessings. Yours with much live –
Cutler Edson<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Edson’s diary, Sunday
20</i>: this has bin a day of rest for me. it is what I much neaded. I am glad
I ever learned to observe the sabath as a holy day and a day of rest both to
the body and sole. my health has greatly improved for a week past & I am feeling quite well
now. bless God for health Spiritual
& Temporal. no religious exercises to day but I have enjoyed my self
very well here in my little tent. am glad that I am not wholy dependant upon
human aid to guide me to heaven, but that I have the privalege of comeing
direct to the fountain from whence flows all neaded blessings. Oh I thank God
for the comefort that the religion of Jesus Christ affordes me. It makes me
happy and contented here in this distant land away from dear kindred friends
and home and all that I hold dear on earth. it also removes from me the fear of
death when at times it has almost seamed to stair me in the face.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday July 21</i>: in
camp at Harrisons Landing. wrote to Bro Jewett yesterday. wrote to wife to day.
made & sold 18 pales full of Lemonaid which came to 25 dollars. this has
bin a good days work. Bro Strong came back here last knight. his coming was
quite unexpected. was glad to see him looking so well. commenced playing all
the general calls and the Regt drill 2 hours a day.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday, July 21, 1862</i>:
A year ago to day the battle of Bull Run was fought which proved so desasterous
to our cause. my foot much worse. walked too much yesterday.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 22</i>: Still
worse. my foot badly swolen and very sore.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFYi7N8UaKvGCNmQoiqfQ9vqeh-hnswE83jVNlPlceDVLE6hFt8Et9qsAdAovycqk7VSG4JHuOCU16djpBmkJEHUyPn_L0lmt_OKgwan7zqAxNAnoextdaxB2XE7GBNi8M1vzIc-9zgw/s1600/sumner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFYi7N8UaKvGCNmQoiqfQ9vqeh-hnswE83jVNlPlceDVLE6hFt8Et9qsAdAovycqk7VSG4JHuOCU16djpBmkJEHUyPn_L0lmt_OKgwan7zqAxNAnoextdaxB2XE7GBNi8M1vzIc-9zgw/s400/sumner.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edwin Vose "Bull" Sumner, born in 1797 and the oldest<br />
field commander in the war, was the 5th's corps commander.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 22</i>: Grand
review of General Sumners Corps, 48 Regts I think. Sold Lemonaid as usual. recd
a letter from home, No 37.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 23</i>: All
peddling in the Regt forbidden except by the sutler. went out and washed my
cloaths. wrote to my good wife.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 26</i>: this
has bin pay day in our regt – sent home 45 dollars by the commitioner Sanbern. it
has bin a buisy day in camp with the boys collecting and paying debts.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 27</i>: Inspection
as usual. Recd a letter from wife No 38 for which I am very greatful. should like
to be at home to quartily meeting to day but shal have to wate a while longer.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 28</i>: wrote
to wife for a shirt. moved our quartors a few rods to make room for a new tent
for Davis & I alone. this is much pleasanter.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 29</i>: a
review of Gen Richardson Division by Gen. French. Spent the most of the day in
reading religious book. thank God for Salvation.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[This is the end of Rhodes diary, although he will rejoin
this account with a couple of letters. It is nearly certain he continued to
keep the diary; perhaps the rest of it was lost.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary
(from Union Hospital in Georgetown)<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 29</i>: Nothing
very exciting is going on here. foot better.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday, July 30,
1862</i>: Went to Washington to get my pay yesterday. could not get it. Pay Master
gone. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, Aug. 1</i>: A
good many are going to their Regts to day. a good many got discharged.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Saturday Aug. 2, 1862: Still in Hospital. Weather warm. foot
better.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 4</i>: Quite a
number were sent away to day to their regiments.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday, Aug. 5, 1862</i>:
Nothing further to day happened more than common. The same old round of affairs.
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 6</i>: Hospital
life begins to grow wearisome – no better.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 7</i>: Patients
are doing well generally, my foot about the same.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, Aug. 8, 1862</i>:
Went to Washington to day, – with Sergt Ripley. went up to the Capitol grounds.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 9</i>: Was
appointed ward master and took my position. a good deal of trouble it is if I
am allowed to judge.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 10</i>: Oweing to Stantons* order all the attendents will
be sent to their Regiments tomorrow, I among them.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Edwin M. Stanton, secretary of war. I could find no
specific order to which Rhodes’s diary entry might refer, but an obvious imperative in
army hospitals was to get able soldiers back to their regiments as soon as
possible.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday, Aug. 11, 1862</i>:
We were huddled up to Washington in the morning to the Soldiers Retreat. it is
a miserable lousy place.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 12</i>: Still
in the Hospital Soldiers Rest; – a miserable place this.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 13</i>: Got
out of the old Hog pen and went up to the City and got my pay.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday, August 14,
1862</i>: Remained in the Hog pen all day. Soldiers arriving and leaving daily.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 15</i>: Went
out on the same pass that I did on Wednesday; just altered the date and went up
to the City to the Smithsonian Institute.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 16</i>: went
up to the City in the afternoon.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday August 17, 1862</i>:
We left the hospital Soldiers rest in the morning for the wharf, took boat to
Alexandria and marched up to fort Elsworth* and pitched tents.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Named or Elmer Ellsworth, an early martyr of the war who
had been killed in the city, Fort Ellsworth stood on Shuters Hill in Alexandria.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 18</i>: We were in Camp all day milking cows &c. everything
quiet. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 27</i>: Weather very warm. we left our Camp on the
Hill back of Alexandria at 6 and marched down to the wharf and embarked on a
miserable old tug boat for Aqua Creek.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Aquia Creek was a Union supply and transportation depot on
a Potomac tributary.]<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 28</i>: Awoke
and found ourselves aground off Ft Washington.* a long time was spent in
getting off. Several large transports passed us loaded with troops. Got to Aqua
Creek at 2.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Fort Washington, which guarded the federal capital, was on
the Potomac River.] <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqf1ptV-cMzhAwOthkA126Lfw63CyeHSyb4TiU61-9Wz3HjQfsDk9tHn3PV1vXQboARfxohUc6nrm8oAeza9kNvVoFHjoKE4ct4TRWJhm-WL4acKNEoF4cdVEumK26aqFaicuOQ7brmQ/s1600/Larkin+Clouds+Mills+near+Camp+California.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqf1ptV-cMzhAwOthkA126Lfw63CyeHSyb4TiU61-9Wz3HjQfsDk9tHn3PV1vXQboARfxohUc6nrm8oAeza9kNvVoFHjoKE4ct4TRWJhm-WL4acKNEoF4cdVEumK26aqFaicuOQ7brmQ/s400/Larkin+Clouds+Mills+near+Camp+California.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clouds Mill (photo by James Larkin of the 5th)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Friday, August 29,
1862</i>: We arrived in Alexandria last night from Aqua creak. left the Boat
this morning for our camp on the Hill – Our Division I hear is in camp at Clouds
Mills.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Although he did not say so, Rhodes must have noted the
irony of a possible return to Clouds Mill, Va., which was near Camp California,
the 5th’s training ground before the Peninsula campaign.] <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 30</i>: Weather
rainy. remained in camp. our Corps went up to Chain bridge last night; – A
fight is expected or is going on at Bull Run.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The 2nd Battle of Bull Run was another Union defeat.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 31</i>: We hear
news from the big fight at Bull Run. Conflicting rumors. cannot get any
authentic information from any where. Still in Camp.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday, September 1,
1862</i>: Weather cold and rainy. fighting still going on. went down to
Alexandria. saw many wounded soldiers from the late fight. Many left for their
Regiments or elsewhere to day.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 2</i>: Still
in Camp. we were divided into Companies to day. everything looks like our Army
falling back.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 3</i>: I got
a letter from home to day. Baggage wagons still coming in and straglers; – we
are growing dainty on hard bread and tainted pork.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: Antietam<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-57008463317801342292015-09-05T08:50:00.000-04:002015-09-08T22:27:34.421-04:009. At Malvern Hill, 'Kind friends alone prevented me falling into the hands of the Enemy’ – Eldad Rhodes<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/8battle-of-fair-oaks-thus-sabath-has.html">Previous post</a>]</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the Battle of Fair Oaks, many men of the 5th New
Hampshire Volunteers were confident they would soon be marching through the
streets of Richmond. Gen. George B. McClellan, their army’s commander, had boasted
as much. And the Confederate capital now lay just six miles away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjAgC452HzIqn-lQNVXMzRfb0IZTNZ9eAnideSne4PowGIGGNlvmTKnPOnMm4duRu6z2zWmxOpEElADAkCFgEJqG3FePUnKKdwkuw2qq43tkmADUzbWRS4dRRfqj9PayJe3bhpQXLEtA/s1600/Charles+H.+Phelps+Tintype.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjAgC452HzIqn-lQNVXMzRfb0IZTNZ9eAnideSne4PowGIGGNlvmTKnPOnMm4duRu6z2zWmxOpEElADAkCFgEJqG3FePUnKKdwkuw2qq43tkmADUzbWRS4dRRfqj9PayJe3bhpQXLEtA/s400/Charles+H.+Phelps+Tintype.jpg" width="322" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pvt. Charles Phelps: 'Richmond will have to fall soon.'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Corporal Charles Phelps and Private Theron Farr of the 5th
each wrote to their sisters from Fair Oaks. “Richmond will have to fall soon,” Phelps
predicted. “We are expecting a new battle here any minute,” wrote Farr. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The battle came – several battles – but while McClellan
chose the direction of the move – away from Richmond – the rebels dictated the pace
and timing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bugler
Cutler Edson and Sgt. Eldad Rhodes of the 5th tracked these battles in their diaries and letters. On June 25, 1862, the regiment
had endured more than three weeks of anxiety and peril before the enemy. In his
letter to friends at his church in a small western New Hampshire town, Rhodes
summed up the offensive spirit of McClellan in a single sentence: “We are
expecting there will be something done here soon as we have bin making great
preparation for a siege.” A siege, not an advance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In their diaries the next day, both Edson and Rhodes noted
the sounds of the battle of Mechanicsville. McClellan’s retreat across the
Peninsula to the James River was about to begin. That week became known as the
Seven Days, and the 5th New Hampshire was in the thick of the fighting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson letter <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Dateline: In camp near Fair Oaks, Va., June 25 ’62. To
Sister Folsom, wife of Edson’s pastor in Enfield, N.H.</i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I recvd yours of the 19th yesterday and it afforded me great
pleasure and satisfaction to peruse its lovely pages. There is no one but a
soldier far away from his quiet and peaceful home in the midst of strife and
battle that is better capable of estimating the value of a kind letter from his
old friends. Was glad to here of the prosperity of Zion. it seems as though the
Lord was about to work mightily in your midst. My prayer to God is that the
Church may be fully ready & prepared to work with him & that there may
be a glorious reformation in that vicinity. Your camp meeting strikes me very favorably.
I shall endeavor to be there with you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
8 months experience has taught me some useful lessons in camp
life and I am just foolish enough to think that I could set up housekeeping and
live in the woods about as well as they will arrange. Havent seen Osker Collins
for 2 or 3 days. then he was out round not very sick. Bugler Ingolls is well
and pretty stedy. We have had no playing to do since our last battle [June 1]
but have to stand in readiness every moment for we know not when we shal be
needed.* <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I suppose you get as much war news at home as we get here.
We are expecting there will be something done here soon as we have bin making
great preparation for a siege.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tell my good wife not to worry about me in the least for I
am getting along nicely. My health is very good, my mind clear, my trust firm
in God, but try & take care of her self & children a little while
longer. then I expect to go home and help do my part. Tell Bro Folsom I shal
expect to here the particulars about the camp meeting. which way from the
village is it. My love to you and family and all enquiring friends.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Oscar Collins, 20, of Enfield was a private in Company C
of the 5th. He served out his three-year enlistment. Melvin L. Ingalls of
Hanover, N.H., was a 26-year-old bugler in the 5th.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Edson’s diary,
Wednesday 25</i>: Wrote home to day and likewise to Sister Folsom sent by mr
Liscom. Went over and saw the Drummer. found him not quite as well. wrote a
letter for him and put in 25 dollars for his sister.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have advanced our pickets on the right & left to day
which caused conciderable fighting and we have bin shelling most all the after
noon. recd a letter from wife No 31 with her picture. it is a good one and words
cannot express my joy to behold it. Oh! how much reason I have to thank the
good lord for all the privaleges I enjoy from time to time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Elisha P. Liscomb was the allotment commissioner for New
Hampshire. He delivered letters and soldier pay to families of the state’s soldiers. “The Drummer” was E. Woodbury Young, a sick soldier of the
regiment. His father had recently murdered his best friend back home In Lisbon,
N.H. (<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/8battle-of-fair-oaks-thus-sabath-has.html">see previous post</a>).]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 25</i>: We
were up by times and under the Breastworks. at 7 Hookers & Sedgwicks
Divisions began an advance on the Rebs. soon a brisk fight began. Rebs run. the
fight continued during the day. our Batteries opened in the afternoon a brisk
cannonade; sun down all quiet. thus ended the battle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 26</i>: We
were aroused last by an attack from the Rebs, soon were in line, remained under
the bank all night – in the fore noon
Freedom came wounded through his arm in yesterdays fight*; – all is quiet thus
far, 4 OC heavy cannonade is now going on on our right.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Eldad’s brother, a sergeant in the 2nd New Hampshire, in
Gen. Joseph B. Hooker’s division. The June 25 clash at Oak Grove began the
battles of the Seven Days – the retreat across the Peninsula of McClellan and
his Army of the Potomac.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 26</i>: a
quiet time till about 4 oc when we heard heavy cannonaidig which appears to be
beyond Richmond. it is now dark and it is still going on powerfully. drew my
first pants since I left home. the firing to day was on our right under Porter
who succeded in driving the rebels and licking them badley.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The battle of Mechanicsville. McClellan, under the false
impression that his army was outnumbered 2-1, withdrew his troops after this
encounter.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4FOm7SmwckxqaWGABsdPUGDvxxw3vjHe_fb_6pqiS_woDmDP7H5ZIvtp2_M7gbUhsBJcAhU4VVfzhM3LULC17iQuuuPcMn9XaD8TB8SaKkjB2QOLYFblWDff18e1oKK_wl9jFp_oRos/s1600/perry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4FOm7SmwckxqaWGABsdPUGDvxxw3vjHe_fb_6pqiS_woDmDP7H5ZIvtp2_M7gbUhsBJcAhU4VVfzhM3LULC17iQuuuPcMn9XaD8TB8SaKkjB2QOLYFblWDff18e1oKK_wl9jFp_oRos/s400/perry.jpg" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capt. James B. Perry</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Friday 27</i>: fireing
commenced this morning at an early hour on our right and continued till late at
knight runing the whole length of the line. it seemed as though they were
determined to break thru our lines. the rebs fought desperately but they found
more than there match.* havent learned the particulars of yesterday nor to day.
to knight finds me at the hospital watching over 2 sick men, Adjt Charles Dodd
& Capt Perry of Co. C. he is a sick man, has the Colary Morbus. he is some
better. hope he will get well soon.**<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
[*The battle of Gaines’s
Mill, a Confederate victory.]</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[**Charles Dodd, a 26-year-old Bostonian, was the 5th’s
adjutant, or administrative officer. He was wounded at Fredericksburg on Dec.
13, 1862, and left the regiment shortly afterward. James B. Perry, 28, of
Lebanon, N.H., recovered from his illness on the Peninsula but was killed at
Fredericksburg.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday, June 27, 1862</i>:
Weather very warm. heavy firing renewed on our right. the Rebels advanced on
our front but we repeled them with our artillery. had an exciting time all day.
went on picket in the evening, out all night.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 28</i>: Had
orders to march, packed, moved a short distance, halted & pitched tents; –
Struck tents in the afternoon ready to march, laid on the ground until morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 28</i>: packed
up and moved around a little to the right and pitched tents. remained here till
about midle of the after noon, then packed up every thing ready for a general
moove by the whole division. things look rather misterius but think it will
come out right.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 29</i>: Laid on
our arms threw the knight without tents and started as soon as light towards
James river. the enemy following hard after. we had several skirmishes with
them threw the day and at knight we
had a sharp engagement which succeded in licking them nicely. we burnt and
distroyed all our comisary stores wich was a great distruction. our Brigade was
the rear guard and had to bear the brunt of the battle yet we lost but few.
thus has passed another Sunday in the army.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*On June 27, though in good position with a superior force,
McClellan ordered the Army of the Potomac to withdraw to the James River. As
part of the rear guard, the 5th engaged the pursuing rebels at Orchard Station
and Savage’s Station on June 29. Large supply stores were burned at both
stations.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy1VESsKsmxNIQi_vkdhv-BHmdG27MAxAavQ3-xMnN4QNL9GDSFE-k6bqbHl5Nh42rMwKnGhG5UTP-8h8mF05dCilXU-zdl2Dzs0Lr1I-s2BWENnQDnxljPCPl53DN2313j4i9jLJ89RY/s1600/wounded-at-Savages-Staion-1s02812u_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy1VESsKsmxNIQi_vkdhv-BHmdG27MAxAavQ3-xMnN4QNL9GDSFE-k6bqbHl5Nh42rMwKnGhG5UTP-8h8mF05dCilXU-zdl2Dzs0Lr1I-s2BWENnQDnxljPCPl53DN2313j4i9jLJ89RY/s640/wounded-at-Savages-Staion-1s02812u_thumb.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wounded men on platform cars. Savage's Station, Va., June 29, 1862,</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 29</i>: We were
on the march at day light – halted in about an hour. The 5th NH were ordered
back as skirmishers. went back & had a smart fight with the Rebs. retreated
5 miles in the after noon. had a general Battle at dark.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday, June 30, 1862</i>:
Found us across white oak swamp with Bridge Burnt. very tired; – Had a severe
fight in the after noon. The 5th were on picket before the Enemy untill 1 in
the morning when our whole force retreated in good order.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*On the morning of June 30, on an open hillside above the
bridge they had destroyed, the 5th New Hampshire withstood heavy artillery
fire.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 30</i>: the
rebs followed us up with there artillery and aranged it threw the knight so
that they opened on us in the morning with a deadly fire, ours returning fire,
and after a hard struggle we suceeded in silencing theres. about this time they
opened on us on our left – I think on Hookers division. this was a hard fight which lasted till
between 8 and 9 oclock. we succeeded in bruising them back although there
forces ware much larger than ours. there was great loss on both sides. the 5th
lost in killed 3 or 4 and several wounded.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>In the woods near
James river, July 1st 1862, Tuesday</i>: this has bin another day of excitement
being the third day we have bin fighting. commenced this morning by Shelling
from Burnsides gun boats. then the rebs shelled us powerfully. we answering
them as powerful. we succeded in driving them, Porter following them up with
his flying artillery til we could hardely here there cannonading. this has bin
a glorius victory. thank God for our success. amen & amen.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The battle of Malvern Hill was a huge tactical defeat for
Robert E. Lee’s pursuing army. Because McClellan’s strategy was retreat, there
was no thought of counterattack.] <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday, July 1</i>:
Caught an hours sleep. With the Enemy advancing we were ordered forward in line
of Battle; – were under fire of the Enemies Artillery all day. I was wounded By
a Shell toward night; – was helped off the field by 2 men.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 2</i>: The
Army still in retreat. I was very lame. it began to rain in the morning; – I
walked between 2 men all day to City point 8 miles through mud and rain. kind
friends alone prevented me from falling into the hands of the Enemy.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 2nd</i>: The
army all started this morning at a very early hour and marched nearly all
day raining most of the time very hard,
makeing it very muddy. we took our wounded along with us. we halted near Citty
point where we got a part of our wounded on board boats and sent them off.
others were stowed away in barns old sheds & houses where the most of there
wounds were dressed. I took charge of a wounded man in our regt. a shell struck
his foot so that it took 2 of us to get him along. he leaning up on our
sholders. thus we marched several miles threw woods over hedges and ditches mud
and water till came here to a barn where I am assisting in taking care of the wounded.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Rhodes’s diary does not identify the two men who helped him, and
Edson does not name the man he helped. But years later, Rhodes’s daughter wrote that it was Edson. In his diary Edson later corrected the destination to
Harrison’s Landing, not City Point.]<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 3</i>: rained
most all knight which made it very bad for thos that ware camped on the open
field, many of them without blankets or
tents, yet I am very comfortable here in the barn for which I feele very
grateful. the rebs followed us up last knight and began to shell us this
morning. we thought they ment us, so we soon emptyed the barn. those that ware
able to walk started on foot for the landing. the others we loded into
Amberlances and then skedaddled our selves. the Regt got to gather in the
coarse of the day and camped in a wheet field near citty point. it is not
certinly known how many is lost out of the Regt yet.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjppDIY-6WZEFCtDKze5MalgLdRD-C6mOm6gGie0dZ5aZgjJ3kUmerksGfqCQZyC_Yjbx7-Xa2_JvVnk8kEuhaMscHOw1pZrvGgmsPIexJH-olPGXDuKzF6NNWiiHUryZcds5vPa1pD5cw/s1600/Fort-Monroe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjppDIY-6WZEFCtDKze5MalgLdRD-C6mOm6gGie0dZ5aZgjJ3kUmerksGfqCQZyC_Yjbx7-Xa2_JvVnk8kEuhaMscHOw1pZrvGgmsPIexJH-olPGXDuKzF6NNWiiHUryZcds5vPa1pD5cw/s640/Fort-Monroe.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortress Monroe on the tip of the Virginia Peninsula</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 3</i>: I was
taken from the Gen Hospital in an ambulance to the Boat and put on board the
Commodore with 500 others. am very lame. got under way in the evening down the
River.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 4</i>: A fine
day. arrived at Fort Munroe in the morning. took on coal and steemed up the Bay
at a good rate. got into the River at dark. everything goes well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>In camp near Citty
Point [Harrison’s Landing</i>]<i>. July 4 62</i>: A pleasant day but not very warm for the 4th. wrote
home and sent my diary up to this date. it has bin quiet and seamed much like
Sunday except when our gun boats gave us a few salutes and our field peices
like wise.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 5</i>:
another peacible day. no particular excitement. had a good time washing. this
has bin a warm day but cold knight.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 5</i>:
Beautiful weather, cool and refreshing breezes accompanied to Washington, where
we arrived about noon and were carried in Ambulances to various Hospitals. I am
at Union hospital.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, July 6, 1862</i>:
it seemed strange to hear once more the Musical Chime of the Sabath Bell; t –
And to hear the rumble not of artillery, but of carriages going to the hous of
God.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 6</i>: our
troops are fortifying about 2 miles from here and our detail went out this
morning as usual. we have no Sundays in the army in time of war. this is
deplorable but it is even so; Oh may God grant that this unholey rebellion may
soon come to an end. have just recd a letter from my dear Wife. how grateful I
feele for it. it is No. 33. No 32 have not recd. think it is lost. moved our
camp about 20 rods to give us more room. wrote home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 7</i>: recd
another letter from wife concerning a lot in the cemetery. No 34 and answered
it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-McHubqi4C6Yu54g5DqY2dyfrU7mZ6RmsyWEV9UGEtopkzkHGfANsMt5U5isam0J7AD4Xan1GavXOClHWjsiHs3XeF4q6CUiI22qOqU-U4sPvstzC3c6s89Wp4uAnC1L45RNkx_Krvw4/s1600/SC827-RG667S-VOL.79%252CP.3917%252C+L.+M.+ALCOTT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-McHubqi4C6Yu54g5DqY2dyfrU7mZ6RmsyWEV9UGEtopkzkHGfANsMt5U5isam0J7AD4Xan1GavXOClHWjsiHs3XeF4q6CUiI22qOqU-U4sPvstzC3c6s89Wp4uAnC1L45RNkx_Krvw4/s320/SC827-RG667S-VOL.79%252CP.3917%252C+L.+M.+ALCOTT.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Louisa May Alcott</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3mZfumwTJ1Plp0NsTg5D-PhwdJjUsxsHlR577NUfCOLoKNFK7DI5ctpZI-DkZYTbmFWAKXLHSGypA9iYwOG4TzQqBZcn2f5VM-X4d5DL0iXCh0tBnKdQRxhkLmwr8UrU4xj9uUPY4UFs/s1600/SC827-RG667S-VOL.77%252CP.3822%252C++SARAH+LOW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3mZfumwTJ1Plp0NsTg5D-PhwdJjUsxsHlR577NUfCOLoKNFK7DI5ctpZI-DkZYTbmFWAKXLHSGypA9iYwOG4TzQqBZcn2f5VM-X4d5DL0iXCh0tBnKdQRxhkLmwr8UrU4xj9uUPY4UFs/s320/SC827-RG667S-VOL.77%252CP.3822%252C++SARAH+LOW.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah Low</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b><br />
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 7</i>: we are
very well cared for here by Kind Women Nurses*; my foot is improving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Among the nurses who worked at Union Hospital in
Georgetown were Louisa May Alcott, who would later write <i>Little Women</i>, and Sarah Low, a young woman from Dover, N.H.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 8</i>: Hot
Hotter Hottest. every thing quiet. my foot slowly improving. Am able to hobble
about without a cain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 8</i>: recd
the lost letter No 32 with Bro Strongs notes. have had the Neuralgia in my head
most of the day but not very severe. no detail went out to day but are to drill
2 hours a day 1 in the morning and 1 at knight. this has bin another very warm
day. Seargeant Sanbern returned to us to day. has bin at Anapilus sick several
weeks. President Lincoln and Gen. McClealon passed threw our camp to day. he
was recd by a national Salute from 1 of our bateryes and 3 hearty chears from
each of our Regts.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWki3dNLErNRf7cRZkx_D_NnE5Z_F6OJIT4ifGS7II-Ua_GmXBkfPcs7gw3td_GpK-Tzsslvec0Y6_s4sDU9BB2TbauEa0nzfTSnK37v-cgqwqLUyVmOv-_aJpIgLuG8xdI5TNyjausBk/s1600/gus+sanborn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWki3dNLErNRf7cRZkx_D_NnE5Z_F6OJIT4ifGS7II-Ua_GmXBkfPcs7gw3td_GpK-Tzsslvec0Y6_s4sDU9BB2TbauEa0nzfTSnK37v-cgqwqLUyVmOv-_aJpIgLuG8xdI5TNyjausBk/s400/gus+sanborn.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Augustus Sanborn </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[*Bro Strong was Lewis J. Strong, a private from Enfield,
Edson’s hometown. Augustus B. Sanborn was a 19-year-old sergeant from Franklin,
N.H., who later rose to captain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[During the president’s visit, McClellan gave Lincoln a
letter about the war and its aims. The war, he wrote, “should not be, at all, a
War upon population; but against armed forces and political organizations.
Neither confiscation of property, political executions of persons, territorial
organization of states or forcible abolition of slavery should be contemplated
for a moment. . . . Military power should not be allowed to interfere with the
relations of servitude. . . . A declaration of radical views, especially upon
slavery, will rapidly disintegrate our present Armies.” Already disgusted with
the general’s military performance, Lincoln did not welcome this political
advice.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 9</i>: extreemely
warm. laid in my tent the most of the day. Bought 1 pound of cheese for which I
paid 50 cts & 8 little Ginger cakes for 25. this is dear living, but it
will answer once in a while when a fellow has no appetite for any thing else
that he can get. a flag of truice came
down the river to day requesting us to go and get our Sick & wounded
prisoners for which we dispatched 3 gun boats towards Richmond. this looks as
though they had about as many of there own as they could well attend to.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 10</i>: Paid Lieut. Cross for Bro Strong and took his
recpt $8.00. got his discriptive list of Capt Perry. laid in my tent this fore
noon but this after noon am feeling much better. hope the Neuralgia has left me
for the present. very warm again till middle of the after noon when it began to
rain which cooled the air nicely. Lieut Colonel Langley left to day for home on
furlow. this leaves us with out any field officer.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OHJR0NiM-AcSQkglEG_5MGff1GMKpi9VV8lPm6tt0iUuog6eUcYb58ANM7nCEkzlwG8srcW7PgG7dVmOqjVDPntjhe1G2Sc98UjNTlzy8rZB5j5-Dv7VWk7NBG04A2YkQXRwNpHI1Qk/s1600/5th+NH+Lt.+Colonel+Samuel+Langley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OHJR0NiM-AcSQkglEG_5MGff1GMKpi9VV8lPm6tt0iUuog6eUcYb58ANM7nCEkzlwG8srcW7PgG7dVmOqjVDPntjhe1G2Sc98UjNTlzy8rZB5j5-Dv7VWk7NBG04A2YkQXRwNpHI1Qk/s400/5th+NH+Lt.+Colonel+Samuel+Langley.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lt. Col. Samuel Langley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[*Lt. Daniel K. Cross of Hanover, N.H., was no relation to
Col. Edward E. Cross. Lt. Col. Samuel G. Langley of Manchester left the
regiment for good later in 1862. Edward E. Sturtevant, the senior captain of
the 5th, would be promoted to major on July 30.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 11</i>: pain in
my head the fore part of the day but wears off after noon. recd a letter from
my old mother and sent it home with 1 I wrote to my good wife. Sent Bro Strongs
discriptive list, and a recpt from Lieut. Cross of 8 dollars.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 11</i>: The
same old round and that is all. foot still improving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday, July 12,
1862</i>: Went out on the street to day. saw no grate sights or wonders. every
thing in Georgetown is old and decaying. no new buildings are going up. every
thing bares the mark of age.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/10-we-are-growing-dainty-on-hard-bread.html">Harrison’s Landing</a><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-24331578522493134322015-09-01T07:16:00.000-04:002015-09-05T09:05:04.803-04:008.The Battle of Fair Oaks: 'thus the Sabath has passed with the most horible seins I ever witnessed'<div class="MsoNormal">
[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/7-rebels-left-this-place-in-great-hurry.html">Previous post</a>]</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like bugler Cutler Edson and Sgt. Eldad Rhodes, Col. Edward E. Cross kept a diary. He was the commander of their regiment, the 5th New Hampshire. Unlike them he did
not write almost daily in his long bound journal. A former newspaperman, he tended to craft narrative accounts
covering days or even weeks of the regiment’s experience. Of the eve of his regiment’s
first battle, he wrote: “For once I felt that we were wanted.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkl514dvefX9VNevICW_AdPR-W6LLH8jXpuUtnDzgNmMEy3PkzIlM41Sd9fGul8Wn46I1qy8j7iRNoA1FbeOpdYcJlMDy3guCZsLU843kkSaODUP1zs55O2bngN9f14h_L1a9qQ32xvUU/s1600/Edward+E.+Cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkl514dvefX9VNevICW_AdPR-W6LLH8jXpuUtnDzgNmMEy3PkzIlM41Sd9fGul8Wn46I1qy8j7iRNoA1FbeOpdYcJlMDy3guCZsLU843kkSaODUP1zs55O2bngN9f14h_L1a9qQ32xvUU/s640/Edward+E.+Cross.jpg" width="374" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edward E. Cross, bridge-builder (literally but not figuratively), warrior</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This captured the sentiments of many men in the 5th New
Hampshire Volunteers. They had been drilling, camping, toiling and marching since
October 1861. They had been on the Virginia Peninsula for nearly two months without a fight. At last, as May turned to June, they seemed destined to face
the enemy and eager for the battle to come.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First, however, they spent two days building a
quarter-mile bridge over the Chickahominy River. Cross led this challenging project. The bridge had to withstand drenching rains and support
the weight of infantry, artillery and equipment trains. Its failure might expose the Army
of the Potomac to just the divide-and-conquer strategy
that opposing Gen. Joseph E. Johnston had devised.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bridge stood. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the night of May 31, the 5th crossed the Chickahominy a mile downstream from the bridge it had built. It reached the other bank too late to participate in the Battle of Seven
Pines but did march through the chaos and carnage after the battle. The next
morning, the 5th was part of the attack force that lined up along railroad tracks
near Fair Oaks Station and marched into the woods toward the enemy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bugler Edson was in the thick of the Battle of Fair Oaks. “I was in the
hardest fight, the balls flying all around me like hail stones yet by the mercy
of God I escaped injury,” he wrote in his diary. Sgt. Rhodes was ill but
crossed the river anyway late in the day. Both men helped clear the
battlefield the next morning. “I have been out among the dead, Strown about friend
and foe,” Rhodes wrote.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although the men of the 5th had cause to be proud of their performance,
the Battle of Fair Oaks was a draw. Casualties were roughly the same, 1,132 on
the rebel side, 1,203 on the union. The 5th lost 41 dead or mortally wounded,
129 wounded. Little ground was won or lost.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next move for Gen. George B. McClellan’s Army of the Potomac was no move at all. A Union soldier with sharp eyes could now climb a tree and see the spires of Richmond. Victory was in sight. But
the order from the top was to dig in and hold.<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before turning the story of the battle and its aftermath
over to Edson and Rhodes, one major change in circumstance on the Confederate
side is worth noting. Gen. Johnston, commander of the Army of Northern
Virginia, was wounded by an artillery shell during the battle. To replace him President
Jefferson Davis chose Gen. Robert E. Lee.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday, May 28,
1862</i>: We went up about 2 miles working on a Bridge across the Chickehomony.
had a hard time. I was quite unwell with a Diorhea & returned to Camp at
night very tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 29</i>: We
were on the march at 4 in the morning to resume our labors on the Bridge. I was
still very unwell, not fit to be out, but held up; – finnished the Bridge,
returned very tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 30</i>: We
remained in Camp. I was sick abed all day nearly; – made out to go out on Co
inspection; – hope to be better soon. I can eat nothing; heard heavy firing all
day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, May 31, 1862</i>:
Weather rainy and rather cool; – I was very unwell; – and went reluctantly to
the Surgeons and got an excuse; – in the afternoon heavy firing was heard in
front and our division was soon ordered to march; – I was not able to march.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFf99V4HomBVqtjbXhIrqEf9pemY7151aYgoH93GHJmkcYY9XzucYDA1h1lESwtJChIFgXMyyn5xNyBcJfdBqRyqAa1C4B4b3x7SvGS-2XbZrmTsXa2dpGY54c7OorSV67urzSR5i0eQ/s1600/fair+oaks+burying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFf99V4HomBVqtjbXhIrqEf9pemY7151aYgoH93GHJmkcYY9XzucYDA1h1lESwtJChIFgXMyyn5xNyBcJfdBqRyqAa1C4B4b3x7SvGS-2XbZrmTsXa2dpGY54c7OorSV67urzSR5i0eQ/s640/fair+oaks+burying.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alfred Waud's drawing for <i>Harper's Weekly</i> of the burning of horses killed at the Battle of Fair Oaks. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 31</i>:
orders to march in the after noon. marched up to the front about 10 oc at
knight and camped on the field where there was a heavy fight thru the day.
passed many wounded rebels. we marched up very still and drew up in line of battle within a few yards of the
enemy where we remained till morning. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, June 1, 1862</i>:
When a heavy musketry fireing commenced on both sides and was kept up till 10
or 11 oc when we was so badly cut up that we
retreted back a little and our artillary soon silenced them. 5 of our
company shot dead and a large number wounded. our first Lieut D. Read shot
threw the leg. I helped carry him off and took care of him threw the knight.
Col Cross and Majer Cook both shot in the leg. the Regt & whole Brigade
suffored badly espesily the 64 N.Y. & 61.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL2FwBbpxGeZbLpcMjbd2Yu_tz1BNZ36ZcIuebp0VkqtaANWJv9hC1ZukcBvH5RZ_hoT88FXpEoGeNq7MXXYN19rBHQfJAlXDPhyNphqOexn9y2Z0s40LYqnmq_p2o5efntoTA3pJo44/s1600/cook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL2FwBbpxGeZbLpcMjbd2Yu_tz1BNZ36ZcIuebp0VkqtaANWJv9hC1ZukcBvH5RZ_hoT88FXpEoGeNq7MXXYN19rBHQfJAlXDPhyNphqOexn9y2Z0s40LYqnmq_p2o5efntoTA3pJo44/s400/cook.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fair Oaks was the first and last battle for Maj. Cook</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
thus the Sabath has passed with the most horible seins I
ever witnessed. I was in the hardest fight, the balls flying all around me like
hail stones yet by the mercy of God I escaped injury. thanks be to his great
name for his preserving care. God save me from witnessing such a sean again. it
was awful to behold – the wounded and
dying after they were gathered to gether, some in houses in barns and many in
the open field. this is the rough side of war.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Lt. Dexter Reed of Newport, N.H., left the regiment in
November 1862 but later served in the 1st New Hampshire Heavy Artillery. Maj.
William W. Cook of Derry resigned his commission July 17. By his own count Col.
Edward E. Cross was hit by nine balls during the battle. A Minie ball through
the left thigh sent him home for most of the summer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[The two New York regiments were in the same brigade as the
5th New Hampshire. By mistake, a company of the 5th fired twice on the 64th
during the battle.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday June 1</i>: Was
quite unwell in the morning. Soon heavy firing commenced in front and
continued. I felt better at noon and started on foot for the scene of Battle; –
Got there 5 miles from camp about 5 OC PM. The Regt were terribly cut up; – It
was a horrible sight; 21 from Co B were killed and wounded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 2</i>: We were
alarmed last night falsely. Slept on the Battle field without blankets or covering;
– To day is warm and I have been out among the dead, Strown about friend and
foe; – went out and helpt bring a wounded Rebel in to day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6pF85kbfeoZIvGEfK2DNI_vQqeNcV7a2NAu9a8G5WLAIG8l2XgwppkGiSFaPyOscdwrqTA7bf7X2jHMUpVKwfpNXwDsa7dC8V35mfddrZygCHGDl4H8MkSizqjOpDVM9lO4OMEnDSKLM/s1600/charles+howard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6pF85kbfeoZIvGEfK2DNI_vQqeNcV7a2NAu9a8G5WLAIG8l2XgwppkGiSFaPyOscdwrqTA7bf7X2jHMUpVKwfpNXwDsa7dC8V35mfddrZygCHGDl4H8MkSizqjOpDVM9lO4OMEnDSKLM/s400/charles+howard.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lt. Charles Howard, younger brother and aide to the general.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 2</i>: feele as
well as could be expected under the circumstances. all quiet this morning along
the lines. went out on the battle field to day and helped bury the dead. Some
places the ground was nearly covered, Rebels and Union all together. the rebels
retreted and left there dead and wounded on the ground.<br />
<br />
helped bury 3 in Co. C,
Sargeant Laton that use to live in our village, Corporal Joseph Atwood from
Lisbon (a brother mason) & Corporal Parker. 5 in Co. E. I have heard much
of the horable seans of the battle field, but it is one thing to read and
another to witness. wrote a short letter to my dear family. General Howard has
lost his right arm. his Bro Charles wounded in his leg. have heard about 200
killed and wounded in all.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Sgt. Levi A. Leighton of Lebanon, N.H., was 29, Atwood 27,
and Corporal Byron H. Parker, also of Lisbon, 28. Brig. Gen. O.O. Howard was
hit twice in the right arm but recovered from his amputation in time to fight
at Antietam in September. Shortly after the general went down, his younger
brother and aide, Lt. Charles Howard, was shot in the leg. He was back at his brother’s
side at Antietam. Charles later rose to major and was chosen by Gen. William T.
Sherman to report to President Lincoln on Sherman’s march to the sea.]<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvVhlQWG64s2ZRt7wKBDNhu6jhTOgdWMznyuL3Ng9dIoh4lnyqNyZS4iEHHlP5WLckZ2Jk0J__X24N1CyVAGKcc1CzgDtI6io6-bvBbEySd8GQj2ilKpNYvTkGKih_-4gSgXhQZLtlGI/s1600/Pages+plucked+from+an+old+hymn+book+on+the+battlefield+Fair+Oaks+6-2-1862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvVhlQWG64s2ZRt7wKBDNhu6jhTOgdWMznyuL3Ng9dIoh4lnyqNyZS4iEHHlP5WLckZ2Jk0J__X24N1CyVAGKcc1CzgDtI6io6-bvBbEySd8GQj2ilKpNYvTkGKih_-4gSgXhQZLtlGI/s640/Pages+plucked+from+an+old+hymn+book+on+the+battlefield+Fair+Oaks+6-2-1862.jpg" width="387" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutler Edson plucked this page out of a hymnbook he found on the Fair<br />
Oaks battlefield on June 2, 1862.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Tuesday 3 June</i>: all
quiet along the line. we are yet here on the West point & Richmond R.R. washed
the blood from my haversack and pants that I got on them in moving the wounded
from the field.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday, June 3, 1862</i>:
We remained in line of Battle all day. had several alarms. Signs of rain in the
afternoon. we have no shelter except what we pick up. are to form a line of
Battle tomorrow at 3 in the morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 4</i>:
Rained all night. we fell in at 3 but no alarm coming we were ordered to brake
ranks to fall in at a moments notice. a terrible rain all day drownded us out
and we changed Camps toward night. had a letter from home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 6</i>: am
quite sick. Freedom [his brother, a sergeant in the 2nd New Hampshire] came
over to see me. we wrote a letter home. Freedom gave me some quinine powders.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 7</i>: am no
better. no grate news gets to us here in the Wilderness. The Rebs are to cut
some shine I suppose soon. had orders to sleep under arms to night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 8</i>: We were
ordered to march in the Morning as the Rebels were supposed to be advancing;
moved to a position in the woods and awated their approach but no Rebs
appeared. layed on our arms all night. scarsely a sound disturbed the night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvNqGiB-YHFdu3Bnai7rVmdXV7-JRC-wZbGGID9LQJKIaCnhvp3QpN8F1TbSNKobYgeQ9HShl0FsNoXN7dTZMch8JObLPos28G4PPlaMnP0TfM2aJgIwhUNQtV_Fz2G1OWyuRPAF7S10/s1600/fair+oaks+after+battle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvNqGiB-YHFdu3Bnai7rVmdXV7-JRC-wZbGGID9LQJKIaCnhvp3QpN8F1TbSNKobYgeQ9HShl0FsNoXN7dTZMch8JObLPos28G4PPlaMnP0TfM2aJgIwhUNQtV_Fz2G1OWyuRPAF7S10/s640/fair+oaks+after+battle.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fair Oaks Station after the battle, June 1862.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 8</i>: about 8
oc. we was called into line and marched quickly to the front being alarmed by
the fireing of our pickets which seamed to have a smart engagement. Several
shells came over from the enimy but done but little damage. our batteries
returned the fire and soon silenced them. just recd a letter from my good wife
which encourages me. we lay here close by the reb line in the woods.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 9 June</i>: we yet
lay here in line of battle. every moment expect an attact. our Baterys throwing
some shells and occasionaly we here a crack from our pickets & sharp
shooters. about 5:oc we moved back in to the open field and soon the rebs began
to shell the woods where we left. wrote a
letter to wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14QoolxzPW5VlgkcgBCDlo4Fib7dkv5lcQmoCBh5IgAEPOrntg1WFM0_OzZyN-YzEGwg2uAJAZKOJQyBlj-d5IdqzVgO3COSNi3lKXvk9gMxzi0Cnd9sfrhgWX69UycES_YRxPistwFE/s1600/richardson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14QoolxzPW5VlgkcgBCDlo4Fib7dkv5lcQmoCBh5IgAEPOrntg1WFM0_OzZyN-YzEGwg2uAJAZKOJQyBlj-d5IdqzVgO3COSNi3lKXvk9gMxzi0Cnd9sfrhgWX69UycES_YRxPistwFE/s400/richardson.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen, Israel B. Richardson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday, June 9, 1862</i>:
We were up at 4 ready for any emergency. Expected an attack; – Freedom came
over to see me and brought me some tea; – It is now 2 PM. every thing quiet; –
6 PM have moved out of the woods. the Rebs are shelling the woods – are under
arms.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 10</i>: We
were in line of Battle at day light. raining; – Were ordered to be ready to
fall in at a moments notice. marched in the afternoon a short distance and
stood in line of Battle then stacked Arms. Cut a lot of trees for Richardson
and Camped for the night.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Brig. Gen. Israel B. Richardson was the 5th’s division
commander.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 10</i>: some
cannonading on both sides but no general engagement. Lieut Col Langley and Capt
Barton sick in hospital. we have no field officer with us except our Agitent
Charles R. Dodd. a bad condition to go into battle.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHQL8zaevmonwsLvkniBCfhdPR2Ygnp_BzVCDooU0KfsCV5-mYPHRYrG_44Clsv6ghmnqDpV2R6aQfnMTEu9XimU_izxc7tRE9oeL8Kq2znVrshs3TvLBYVA-RltRkC64E_OgxN3vZ9E/s1600/5th+NH+Adjt.+C.O.+Dodd+5th+NH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHQL8zaevmonwsLvkniBCfhdPR2Ygnp_BzVCDooU0KfsCV5-mYPHRYrG_44Clsv6ghmnqDpV2R6aQfnMTEu9XimU_izxc7tRE9oeL8Kq2znVrshs3TvLBYVA-RltRkC64E_OgxN3vZ9E/s400/5th+NH+Adjt.+C.O.+Dodd+5th+NH.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles R. Dodd, the 5th's adjutant</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[*Col. Cross and Maj. Cook had been wounded June 1. The ill Lt.
Col. Samuel G. Langley, 37, of Manchester, resigned before the year was out.
The adjutant, Charles R. Dodd, was a 26-year-old first lieutenant from Boston.
His job was administrative, not military. In coming weeks, Edward E.
Sturtevant, the senior company commander, would lead the 5th. He was promoted
to major on July 30, succeeding Cook.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary</b><o:p></o:p><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 11</i>:
remained in Camp without much going on. hope to get good news from some where;
– We were Alarmed by picket firing and
called under Arms. A false alarm. the moon was in an eclipse.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 12</i>: We
changed fronts in the morning and moved our tents and in the evening we went up
to stay behind the entrenchments in case of an attack. Nothing troubled us in the
night.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 13</i>: The
Rebels this morning opened a smart cannonade on our lines at the Right for an
hour on two but we let them bang away – did not ans. Freedom came to see me
today. McClellan rode through Camp to day.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 13</i>: wrote
to wife. Saw General McClealon as he reviewed his troops.<i><o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 14</i>: went
over to the hospital and fixed up tents for our sick boyes. washed &c.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 14</i>: We
went out on picket last night as a reserve, got a good wetting in the evening;
To day we laid in readiness for an attack. everything quiet. were releaved at
night. Our Regt changed Camps to the earth works.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday, June 15, 1862</i>:
we were buisy making our tents &c; – Sharp picket firing in the afternoon.
had inspection in the afternoon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 15</i>: Went to
church to the Irish Brigade after which to the 61 N.Y. the first religious
exercises I have attended for a long time. The rebs threw a few shels this
morning but nothing very alarming. a skirmish along the line this after noon. a
few killed. we was called out in line and 6 companyes of our Regt went out on
picket. my co. remained in camp.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 16</i>: Sharp
firing about day light on our left but soon seaced. moved our quarters just
back of our paripets to guarde our fortification. General McClealon passed by
us to view the works. his presents created great enthusiasm amongst the
soldiers.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday June 17 1862</i>:
heavy cannonading last knight on our right and some on the left. the work is
going on finely. we are having cold knights and warm days. my friend Drummer*
is sick at the hospital. for this I am very sorry. wish he could by here so
that I could take care of him.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Pvt. E. Woodbury Young, the 22-year-old Company E drummer.]
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[This ends Edson’s bound diary, but he continued on
notepaper.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Camp near Fair Oaks, June
18:1862, Wednesday</i>: continuation of my Diary. Finished our Forts &
brest works & advanced our pickets which enraged the rebs so that they gave
us fight. our batteryes dealing out to them grape & Canister in such
bountiful doses that they soon retreted with the loss of between 5 & 8
hundred killed & wounded as it was estimated by some deserters and
prisoners that we took. our loss was in killed wounded & missing about 25.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Exaggeration of enemy losses is a regular feature of Civil
War diaries and letters.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday, June 18,
1862</i>: we were under Arms nearly all the afternoon. McClellan rode along our
lines this <i>evening</i>; – Soon the Rebels
advanced and we had a smart little skirmish without a rifle being fired inside
the pickets.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 19</i>: we
laid on our Arms last night behind the breastworks. had an attack from the Rebs.
repelled them with grape & shell.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 19</i>: 8
months to day since I was mustered into the Service of My Country. veryous have
bin the changes in that short period and how good the Lord has bin to me and to
my dear family in preserving our lives while others have died and for that,
good hope we have of the life to come. all quiet this morning along the line.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 20</i>: have
bin sick to day with bowel complant but am feeling better to knight. the rebs
have thrown shell in to our camp to day but did no damage. went over to see the
Drummer. found him quite low. think he has the typhoid fever. our co. grows
smaller every day by sickness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxHlJdXet2rQndaleTMx-ZDo_j_b2vdp2VEzbH1hcJzgDJg6DtTGETj6riYG-n24jRtS2-JK4PPRz4C19w0AgRzGZAoUpaTblETxFtZ7hJRFg32uq_eQNm1_0IBWJ5IaEpqRii1YPOhw/s1600/hooker1b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxHlJdXet2rQndaleTMx-ZDo_j_b2vdp2VEzbH1hcJzgDJg6DtTGETj6riYG-n24jRtS2-JK4PPRz4C19w0AgRzGZAoUpaTblETxFtZ7hJRFg32uq_eQNm1_0IBWJ5IaEpqRii1YPOhw/s400/hooker1b.jpg" width="314" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. Joseph B. Hooker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Friday 20</i>: Freedom
came over to see me in the afternoon and remained untill the Rebs commenced to
shell us and Hooker* when he returned the fire with Pettits Battery in our
Division. soon the Rebs skudaddled.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*The 2nd New Hampshire, Sgt. Freedom Rhodes’s regiment, was
in Brig Gen. Joseph B. Hooker’s 2nd Division of the 3rd Corps. Capt. Rufus D.
Pettit’s Battery B was in the 1st New York Artillery.] <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, June 21,
1862</i>: pickets kept poping occasionally and we were out in line once or
twic; – we were rousted up in the night by picket firing and slept under the
entrenchments untill morning.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 21</i>: got
up this morning feeling quite smart. washed out my cloaths &c. recd a
letter from home date 15th, No. 30. was
very glad to recv it as I have bin almost impatient to here from home for
several days. I rejoys greatly at the prosperity of the church. Oh! may it
continue to aris higher in the divine life untill every member becomes wholy
sanctified to God and by its faithfulness many be converted and brot to Christ.
Amen.<br />
<br />
A smart skirmish took place here to day commencing with the pickets. the
rebs trying to drive ours in. they retreted back a short distance whilst our
bateryes opened on them so powerfully that they ware glad to retire.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 22</i>: this
has bin the quietest Sabath we have had for a long time. our Chaplain has his
discharge and gon home so we are with out a Spiritual leader, but he will be
but little missed for he done but very little for us since we left Camp
California. I think he has an appointment at Manchester first Church. hope he
will do his duty and be faith ful to his flock. Oh: when will the Meathodist
Ministry be what they profess; a holey people. Thank God there are honorable
exceptions.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Elijah R. Wilkins, the 50-year-old chaplain, returned to
the First Methodist Episcopal Church in Manchester. An itinerant printer early
in life, he had been the pastor there during the mid-1850s. Late in life he
served for 19 years as pastor at the New Hampshire State Prison. He died in
Concord in 1908 at the age of 86.] <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 23</i>: another
quiet day, but little fireing on either side. went over and took care of the
Drummer this fore noon. found him quite feeble and his mind very much affected
by hearing of his father shooting Bishop in Lisbon.* I have known it several
days but have kept it from him till this
morning when he accidently saw it in a paper. tryed to sooth and comefort him
the best I could under the circumstances.
wrote a letter for him to his mother and sent by express the most of the
money he had on hand to his sister $55.00. left him feeling much better. hope
he will be better in a few days. my health is very good where off I feal very greatful. my sheet is full and
will send it home in the morning. very resptively Cutler Edson.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*E. Woodbury Young, the drummer, lived on a farm in Lisbon,
N.H. His father, Brewster Young, turned violent when he drank. The son had
intervened to stop his father’s rages many times. As a favor, Woodbury’s
neighbor and best friend, Ralph Bishop, had assumed this role in his absence. One
day in June he heard Young screaming drunken threats at his wife and a daughter,
who had been ill. Young cursed the growing doctor’s bills and kicked a kettle
onto his stove onto his wife. When Bishop came to the rescue, Young grabbed his
gun and held it to Bishop’s head. He said he had shot a rooster in the neck
that morning and would shoot Bishop. He then stormed into the next room.
Young’s wife told Bishop to leave, but Bishop said he was not afraid. He
followed Young into the next room. Young fired a shotgun in Bishop’s face, killing
him.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 23</i>: The day
was quiet untill near night when the Pickets began a spirreted firing; we
immediately formed behind the breastworks; – went to supper at dark &
returned. slept under the brestwork all night. rain fell heavily in the night.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday, June 24, 1862</i>:
every thing quiet on the lines. Freedom came over a few minutes in the evening.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday, In Camp near
fair Oakes, June 24</i>: Sent home a leaf of my diary yesterday. a good deal of
fireing & Skirmishing along on the line last knight. our Regt. laid out
under our entrenchments all knight and the worst of it was they had to lay ther
threw one of the hardest thunder showers we have had, but it is of no use to
dodg. a Soldier has to obey orders.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
this has bin our pay day but nothing for me. recd a letter
from Sister Folsom, a good long one. how glad I am that my old friends think of
me and occasionly write me. if they only knew with what eagerness I devour
there contence. I think they would more of them write, yet I feele very
thankful for what I do recv. waid to day, 134 pounds. pritty good for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/9-malvern-hill-kind-friends-alone.html">The Seven Days</a><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-18600455781227760452015-08-29T08:40:00.000-04:002015-09-01T07:53:50.939-04:007. The rebels 'left this place in a great hurry'<div class="MsoNormal">
[<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/6-heavy-firing-in-afternoon-towards.html">Previous post</a>]</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having achieved their objective of stalling Gen. George B. McClellan’s campaign on the Virginia Peninsula, Confederate troops abandoned Yorktown on May 4, 1862. For the next several weeks, the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers joined in passive pursuit of them, Many of them still expected to occupy Richmond before the Fourth of July.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MBMst41-0zNUiTqzlOCQXOR1emWnAv2A97jNhOxjeJwHxawGMBwY4I1uiiJ3A-qnSt4WBGMAfxrW6cF9QiH8ixU0A5oKUYNGNoq-nFYcIShwtZJhaFjs8Y7UPqvhd5j3NEVtQ9AdIik/s1600/5th+cutler+edson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MBMst41-0zNUiTqzlOCQXOR1emWnAv2A97jNhOxjeJwHxawGMBwY4I1uiiJ3A-qnSt4WBGMAfxrW6cF9QiH8ixU0A5oKUYNGNoq-nFYcIShwtZJhaFjs8Y7UPqvhd5j3NEVtQ9AdIik/s400/5th+cutler+edson.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutler Edson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The 5th was a reserve regiment at a sharp battle in the rain at Williamsburg on May 5, but for the next 26 days, its chief enemies were disease, humidity
and terrain.<br />
<br />
On the day of the Williamsburg battle, bugler Cutler Edson of the 5th’s Company E took time to gather seashells in the York River to send home to his children. When the regiment left Yorktown he encountered the landmines he had heard rumors about. These were
Confederate “torpedoes” buried in the road and rigged to detonate if stepped upon.
Edson remarked on the ingenuity of the weapons.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eldad Rhodes, the sergeant whose diary and letters are the
second major source of this series, was ill for most of May but carried on. “The jaundice has a hold on me and I must drive it out soon, that is
sure,” he wrote on the 12th.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
McClellan was still maneuvering his army with excessive caution. Provisioning such a large force in enemy
territory was a challenge, but the pace of the advance toward Richmond, a distance of 35 miles from Yorktown, gave the Confederates time to plot a vigorous defense of their capital.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The last days of May found the 5th sensing, correctly for once, that their first battle was at
hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 5</i>: Struck
tents this morning. packed up and marched in to York town, that place where
there has bin much contention. it was evacuated and we had no difficulty in
entering. We got here about 11 oc., pitched our tents and camped for the knight.
rained all day. about 6oc. orders came to march. struck tents and packed up
agan and started in persuit of the rebels who ware at Williams burg. marched
till about 11 oc. threw the muddiest road that I ever saw. raining hard most of
the time. halted and built camp fires. dryed us some then camped down for rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
this has bin a hard march not on account of the distance for
I dont think we marched more than 5 or 6 miles. gathered sea shells in york
river for the children.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 6</i>: Started
about 6 this morning and marched about 4 miles when we had news that the rebs
had left Williamsburg in the knight. we halted and pitched tents. it has
cleared off and has bin quite a pleasant day. saw the place at York town where
Cornwallis delivered his sword to Washington. it is a small parcel of ground
inclosed by a fence with a cedar tree at each end.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 7</i>: packed
up and returned to York town where we pitched tents for the knight. expect to
embark for Richmond when we get orders. we have had to use a great deal of
caution whilst in this place. the rebels have planted Torpedoes around in
different places. they have used a great deal of ingenuity. it is hard finding
them but if one steps on them they explode and kill everything around them. we
have lost a few men in this way but they have bin searched out the most of them
and marked so that by caution they can be shund. they left this place in a great hurry, leving there big
guns not spiked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia2a2bBPcBi3JgWOPCWP4qhobgxccWKyv9B_ss7miKX7ErIGPTdwrxOLkuvm0M75muLITOOwmJSvfhiEipUxWpsrsgI08f-1-jOVEhOdRVfOaTnvuEWTEGZrqHWaIdZFmxh_nLVO6l7PE/s1600/css+virginia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia2a2bBPcBi3JgWOPCWP4qhobgxccWKyv9B_ss7miKX7ErIGPTdwrxOLkuvm0M75muLITOOwmJSvfhiEipUxWpsrsgI08f-1-jOVEhOdRVfOaTnvuEWTEGZrqHWaIdZFmxh_nLVO6l7PE/s400/css+virginia.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ironclad CSS Virginia (Merrimac)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Thursday 8</i>: a fine
pleasant day. went out and practised this fore noon, the first time I believe
since we left Camp California. had dress parade here to knight. Saw one large
peace of corn yesterday up 2 inches high. we here glorious news to knight. hope
it is true. report is that the Marymack is sunk & that Norfolk is taken and
this is good if true.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Union troops took Norfolk on May 10. The Confederates blew
up their ironclad <i>Merrimac</i>, which had
been refitted as the <i>CSS Virginia</i>,
the following day. It is possible that in catching up on his diary after the
5th’s march to and from Alexandria, Cutler mistook the day he had heard of the
taking of Norfolk.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 9</i>: another
pleasant day. Sent a letter to wife. recd one from home with one in it from Sis
Abbie and one from G. Hoit. went down to the river and washed my self and cloaths.
at about 5 oc orders to pack up and march about 1 mile up the river and camped
in a young peach orchard, a pleasant place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 10</i>: went
out and practised 2 hours this for noon
and 1 in the after noon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, May 10, 1862</i>:
[Before this entry there is a gap of several days in Rhodes’s diary, perhaps a result of the
illness mentioned here.] we went out on Co drill in the fore noon; – I was
still unwell, am not improving much if any; – our Camp is a very sightly one
commanding a splendid view of the River for a long way down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 11</i>: A very
warm day; we went on an inspection in the morning while on the ground. had
orders to march and immediately marched back to camp and struck tents and
marched down to the landing and shipped on board the Vanderbilt bound up River.
Had a pleasant ride up &c.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaqFa7m9zib7kbSF97kqpTKIv2-_R_shsbqAkzk0QccDfFWmZSRVMMhJXFAe8msRNvjx1strfq3aSNlN9ymmJeGO7XfPa0G6ds5gHm9OL0qK0RcAQCiEJ4JCw7voFYMWxLt3hqzgqNmeE/s1600/Cornelius_Vanderbilt_%2528steamboat%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaqFa7m9zib7kbSF97kqpTKIv2-_R_shsbqAkzk0QccDfFWmZSRVMMhJXFAe8msRNvjx1strfq3aSNlN9ymmJeGO7XfPa0G6ds5gHm9OL0qK0RcAQCiEJ4JCw7voFYMWxLt3hqzgqNmeE/s640/Cornelius_Vanderbilt_%2528steamboat%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The C. Vanderbilt, which took the 5th up the York River (1846 oil painting by the Bard twins, James and John)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 11</i>: inspection
this morning as usual on the field. prayer by the chaplin but in so low a tone
that but few of us could here it. Orders have just come to pack up and be ready
to march down to the wharf where we embarked on board the C. Vanderbilt. went
about 6 miles beyond west point up the York
river and cast anchor for the knight. the weather was fine and the
scenery was delightful for this country.
thus another Sabbath has past with great excitement and but very little
religious devotion. feele that I am yet the Lords.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 12</i>: landed
here this mourning and pitched our tents in a beautiful wheat field which stood
about 10 inches high but was soon trampled down. wrote to Sis Abbie. Lieut Read promoted to first
Lieut., Sumner Hurd to Seckond. Baron Noice to Ordily Seargant.* tent companies
divided off with a squad master to each.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Like Edson and Rhodes, all three of these men would remain
with the 5th New Hampshire for less than a year from this date. Dexter G. Reed
and Sumner Hurd were both Company E officers from Newport, N.H. Reed, 22, was
soon to be wounded at Fair Oaks, ending his time with the 5th. Hurd, 24, lasted
a little longer, resigning after wounds at Antietam and Fredericksburg.
Sergeant Baron S. Noyes of Claremont was disabled and discharged in November 1862.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 12</i>: we land
above West Point* and encamped in a large field. I was quite unwell, wors than
usual; – the jaundice has a hold on me and I must drive it out soon that is
sure. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The regiment was moving toward Richmond. West Point is the
Virginia Peninsula town where the Mattaponi and Pamunkey rivers merge to form
the York. The town was also a new station on the York and Richmond Railroad.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday, May 13, 1862</i>:
Weather very warm. I went to the Dr and got excused as I am quite unwell; – had Brigade drill in the forenoon and
inspection; – I felt quite down at the heel I assure you; a fine evening. been
slop for dinner.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 14</i>: we
were in Camp all day. think it probable that we may march soon. I am better of
my Jaundice but my teeth are in a bad state.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 14</i>: had
orders to knight to be ready for a march in the morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 15</i>: Revalie
this morning at 2 oc. breakfast at 3
which consisted of hard crackers, Boiled Salt Beefe & Coffee. this is our
common living. Struck tents, packed up and was on the march in the direction of
Richmond before it was barely light. we marched till about 1 oc. and camped in
the woods. rained some of the time very hard. just recd a good letter from wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 16</i>: laid
here in the woods which is much pleasanter than marching in the mud.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Letter from Eldad
Rhodes <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Datelined Camp on the
Road to Richmond Va., May 17th 1862</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Dear Grandparents<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I have never I believe written to you personaly since I left
N Hampshire thinking perhaps that a letter to one was as good as a letter to
each or all of the Family; – But I feel as though I ought to write to you and
see if you Grandmother could write to me; – For what do you think when I tell
you that I have not heard a word from home since I arrived on the Peninsula, a
space of more than 6 weeks.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sent $40.00 home some time ago directly after being payed
off and am not a little anxious to know how it came out; – I can’t think that
you have not written for so long a time. the letters probably have been
miscarried but I know that your eyes are turned with grate anxiety toward this
Peninsula. – <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here it was that Washington 80 years ago delt the death blow
to the Lyon of England that had been for years prowling abroad in our Nation. I
have seen with my own eyes old Revolutionary entrenchments with large trees
growing in them to show their antiquity; –<br />
<br />
You have heard ere this all about the
evacuation of York Town and the Battle of Williamsburg, how the Rebels
skedaddled and run for dear life. You have heard too of the torpedoes and
infernal machines that the Rebels planted thinking to destroy us as we marched
along after them but the cowardly knaves were foiled in their inhuman designs
for but few were killed by them. I saw many guns on the Rebel fortifications with the swab
stick in as though they left in grate haste; –<br />
<br />
We were in the reserve and did not participate
in the fight at Williamsburg but we had all the pleasure of the chase after
them through the rain for one day and until mid night; – I have not heard
personaly from Freedom [his brother in the 2nd New Hampshire] but have learned
that he came out all right.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we after our wild goose chase after them came back to York
Town and after remaining in camp 3 or 4 days took boat and rode 35 miles up the
river and landed above west point; – day before yesterday we marched some 12
miles toward richmond and camped in a wood where we now remain awaiting further
orders. we are some 25 miles from Richmond and if the Rebels will only make a
stand then we will show you how to clean them out in a fair fight.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cant tell much that is going about us. all that we get for
news is the flying Camp story except when we get a paper for 25 cents now and
then. Weather is very warm and corn is up high enough for howing. If father has
not sent the box of sugar I spoke of, he
need not do it as I find that it would be a doubtful case its getting here
except it comes by Adams Express; – I have been quite unwell for a fortnight
back with the yellow jaundice but am now very much better. have been off from
duty but one day with it when if I had
been at home I should have been sick a bed. I got help from pills and cherry
and tree bark steeped; –<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I dont see why I dont hear from you as other boys have as
many letters as they ever did. write soon.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Rhodes diary, Sunday
18</i>: We got orders to march in the morning and at 8 OC, were under way
toward Richmond. weather extremely warm; encamped on a hill 5 miles from our
last Camp; Freedom and Sergt Hilliard* came over and stayed with us over night.
Hilliard had a wound.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Henry S. Hilliard had a slight wound from the Battle of
Williamsburg. He later transferred from the 2nd to the 5th New Hampshire.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday May 18</i>: packed
up this morn and had another Sunday march. went about 3 or 4 miles and camped
in a beautiful wheat field, a very warm day. thus has ended another Sabath in
the armey with out any religious ceremony. may God grant that the time may soon
come when I can worship God in my own native land.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEVClepkDdA-J5G95XaEqfT7116gokaUlQ7ykkoVSloC6d043vpW8aNq-Ha6eLj2SYpZ8v9tpcqn_Im7PyxD29mJgJ_R8tuCD6GA58HGMAN8k0_NXj_xtxgAa12xXvfbe2pdU9JZLgTc/s1600/white+house+landing+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEVClepkDdA-J5G95XaEqfT7116gokaUlQ7ykkoVSloC6d043vpW8aNq-Ha6eLj2SYpZ8v9tpcqn_Im7PyxD29mJgJ_R8tuCD6GA58HGMAN8k0_NXj_xtxgAa12xXvfbe2pdU9JZLgTc/s640/white+house+landing+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White House Landing on the Pamunkey River was a supply and transportation hub during McClellan's Peninsula campaign. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Monday May 19</i>: our
company marched to White house landing* some 3 or 4 Mi. a way. a very
beautiful place. this is said to be the
house that Washington coarted and married his wife. one of the best farms I
have seene in Va. our business here was to unlock bails of cloathing. our Regt. started soon after we
did and marched some 4 miles in the direction of Richmond and camped near Saint Peters Church.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*White House Landing on the Pamunkey River became a supply
and communication base for McClellan’s slowly advancing army. Wounded men from
the battles to come around Richmond were sent to a field hospital there and
often transferred to larger hospitals in the North. The mansion on the bluff at
the landing had indeed been the home of Martha Custis, whom George Washington
courted there.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday, May 19, 1862</i>:
Got orders to march at 10 toward Richmond. Freedom and Hilliard left in the
morning for their Regt. rain began to fall before noon; when on the Road two
Rebel officers were conducted by us with a flag of truce toward McClellans head
quarters. camped for the night at New Kent Court House 4 miles nearer Richmond.
Dont know what the flag of truce had to offer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 20</i>: We
remained in Camp all day near St Peters Church instead of Kent Court House
–Washington was married in this Church to the Lovely Widow Custis who was
living at the White House.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 20</i>: Started
this morning and went to the Regt some 4 or 5 miles where we all remained thru
the day. Glorious news in the papers to knight. the Gov of North Carolina
called home her troops.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*The news was less than glorious. The governor to whom
Edson referred was no doubt Edward Stanley, a North Carolinian with northern
leanings whom U.S. Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton had appointed to the
position in April. After half-hearted and divisive efforts on the Union’s
behalf, Stanley resigned soon after emancipation was proclaimed.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday May 21</i>: Revalee
at 4 this morning. packed up and started in the direction of Richmond and
marched 7 or 8 miles and pitched tents near the railroad,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 21</i>: We
marched at Sun rise toward Richmond. weather very warm moved 8 miles in a hot
scorching sun. passed Hookers Division. Saw many of the NH 2nd Boys who lined
the road on either side to see us. saw Freedom, Young,* Hilliard &c.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Harrison “Harry” Young was a 22-year-old second lieutenant
from Lancaster, N.H., the Rhodes brothers’ hometown.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday, May 22, 1862</i>:
Weather very warm untill afternoon when we experienced a heavy thunder storm
which lasted 2 hours much hail fell; – I
was not very well to day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 22</i>: remained
in camp all day. washed my pants &c. wrote to Wife. no particular news from
the seat of war.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 23</i>: Marched
about 6 or 8 miles and camped about the same distance from Richmond as we was
when we started. passed some beautiful plantations, camped in an old deserted
corn field.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 23</i>: Weather
very warm. we struck tents at 11 OC and marched 5 miles over varigated country;
– Encamped 14 miles from Richmond; – had a long letter from Home, the first I
have had since I landed at Ship point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 24</i>: We
expect soon to experience a terrible Battle near Richmond.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 24</i>: Cold
rainy day but I keep quite comfortable here in my little tent. just recd a
letter from my good wife. commenced dealing out rations of Whiskey to the
soldiers, ½ gil at a time knight and morning. this is ordered by Gen McLealon
and approved of by our phisitions whilst we are here in this low swampy land.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 25</i>: this has bin one of the most quiet Sabaths I
have witnessed for a long time. had Sunday Morning inspection as usual then
listened to a short sermon from our Chaplain. read the life of Gen. Havorlock* and considerable in the Bible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Probably British Gen. Henry Havelock, best known for his
exploits in India. His statue is in Trafalgar Square.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 26</i>: orders
to get everything ready for a start at a moments notice but had no orders to
march. it is rumered to knight that Richmond is evacuated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 26</i>: had a
Co drill of one hour in the fore noon. In after noon we were ordered to put our
selves in light marching order; – the order was countermanded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 27</i>: our Co
with others went out working on a Road, worked until 3 PM. heard heavy firing which
I suppose is McDowell; – The firing proved to be Porter who with 10000 men
repulsed 15000 with grate loss to the Rebs.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*This was the battle of Hanover Court House, in which troops under Brig. Gen. Fitz John Porter, a native of Portsmouth, N.H.,
defeated a smaller Confederate force. The battle was fought to secure a route
for reinforcements for McClellan’s army from the Shenandoah Valley. Because Stonewall Jackson’s army defeated Gen. Nathaniel P. Banks’s troops there, the
reinforcements never showed.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/09/8battle-of-fair-oaks-thus-sabath-has.html">Across the Chickahominy to meet the enemy</a><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-62608825145980773512015-08-25T07:46:00.001-04:002015-08-29T10:02:06.854-04:006. 'heavy firing in the Afternoon towards York Town'<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/5it-blew-pritty-much-all-knight-but-god.html">[Previous chapter]</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a March 14, 1862, circular to the Army of the Potomac,
Gen. George B. McClellan assured his troops: “The moment of action has
arrived.” His men were trained, hardened and ready. But how ready was their commanding
general?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have to read between the lines of the diaries of soldiers like Cutler
Edson and Eldad Rhodes to get a true picture of the futility of the first month
of McClellan’s Peninsula campaign. Edson was a 42-year-old bugler, Rhodes a
21-year-old sergeant in the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers. It was not what they did during April 1862 but what they didn’t do that told the story of McClellan’s siege of Yorktown, Va.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Musicians did double duty tending to the sick,
wounded and dead. Naturally caring and old enough to be the father of many men he served with, Edson embraced this role. His diary shows firsthand the consequences of shipping a
large army to a warm, pestilent climate and expecting it to thrive. He
passed many nights – “knights,” as he called them – holding the hands of
sick and dying comrades.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhodes’s daily life was different: he dug and lugged,
building roads and barricades. His weapons were a shovel and a pick. This betrays a different but no less damning result of McClellan’s failure to seize any advantage his army’s swift move to the Peninsula had gained.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Distant artillery shelling kept both men up some nights –
the sound of battle but no actual battle. Then, a month into the campaign, they awoke one morning
and the Confederate army was gone. It was also reinforced. And its leaders had developed a strategy to defend Richmond, their capital, from an attack from the east.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LdofEc6IRXw62cZ_lbZMWW82yI_9O165FyB9JVSkHcDzSsdTCH545FTLWcJmYUTMDKh-xkrCGmDhw4d3xBLItpSczyz5hN77fg7FvBRIdOlN2GIDsA5GYH6qb6AbPL4YC9St1Qs2BFg/s1600/steamer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LdofEc6IRXw62cZ_lbZMWW82yI_9O165FyB9JVSkHcDzSsdTCH545FTLWcJmYUTMDKh-xkrCGmDhw4d3xBLItpSczyz5hN77fg7FvBRIdOlN2GIDsA5GYH6qb6AbPL4YC9St1Qs2BFg/s640/steamer.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Civil War steamer of the kind that joined the motley flotilla that transported troops to the Peninsula</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary</b>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, April 4, 1862</i>:
got up this morning and went to Camp California to Mr Richards and got my pay. When I returned the Regt was all redy to go abord the Boat Stemer
Croton. just wrote a letter and sent home to wife. We left here about 3 oc. we
have 300 on bord this boat. the rest of the regt in 2
others. passed fort Washington on the Md shore. this is a beautiful Fort built of
stone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We then passed Mount Vernon on the Va side, a lovely looking
place for the father of our country to sleep. had a fair view of the old
mansion. it is a long brick building with several smaller out houses with a
large number of fruit trees. Sailed till about 9 oc and anchored for the knight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6RiMQ2y-s_ZxlfVb1aMd8XyJJPzaGQZr3VtV0jpWtBJM2FBS9vbTncZ1k5orILfK819lq-8U0X2VnhGkaUcJ5qkRF3Z-Dr-bRkQuWLVTdAZwqgP_xc5ush3NMSg9pqboU8L6TIwHEMk/s1600/mt+vernon.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6RiMQ2y-s_ZxlfVb1aMd8XyJJPzaGQZr3VtV0jpWtBJM2FBS9vbTncZ1k5orILfK819lq-8U0X2VnhGkaUcJ5qkRF3Z-Dr-bRkQuWLVTdAZwqgP_xc5ush3NMSg9pqboU8L6TIwHEMk/s400/mt+vernon.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Vernon in 1860</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, April 4, 1862</i>:
Weather as calm and scerene as the morn of Creation; – we marched down town and
got aboard the Government Boat Danalson; and in company with many other
Steemers and schooners Steemed down the grand old river Potomac; – passed Mt
Vernon at eve the home of Washington. Saw the ancient mansion and the tomb of
Washington and here the Potomac sighs beside the Patriot Heroes grave.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 5</i>: Weather
stormy. we were at anchor most of the night; – I was Sargt of the guard; – we
got into the Bay at noon, steemed down the Bay at a slow rate for we had a good
load. on guard all night</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 5</i>: a
little rainy & Foggy which presents a very bright prospect from the shore.
Past Port Tabacco on the Md side the river is quite wide here and we had but a
very faint view of it. Salt Watter gets back nearly to this place. began to
grow rough and we anchored off St. Maryes river.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 6</i>: Started
this morning about 8 oc. a very fine day for saling threw the Chespeke Bay. had
preaching on board by Bro Wilkins from the text take my yoke upon you and learn
of me &c. Anchored at Fortress Monroe
about dark. this seams to be quite a place. seanery in the harbor this
eve is delightful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 6</i>: we
reached Ft Munroe in the afternoon. layed by for orders and coal and then
steemed up the Bay toward York River; – Saw many vessels and Troops at the
Fort.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday April 7, 1862</i>:
Weather stormy and cold. we ran up the York River, landed on the beach, waided
a shore, marched back to a pine wood and encamped. everybody buisy. heavy guns
are heard at YorkTown where the Rebels are cornered by McLellan.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 7</i>: wrote to
wife yesterday. lade here in the harbor all day waiting for cole. this has been
a cold stormy bad day. we have nothing
but raw meet and hard crackers to eat and sleeping any where that we can get a
chance, yet I dont feele to complain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPw74KYDvCQtN2eJ6AAugnSruPTDTGuBz3u1o_rmFqR21XDVrAPRmNlZDcrjKn_HebX0JUYDN_XwLpcvt98jJ-rX8uDyRjy0aVGED2UPmaOQzRw1wVFhWEOYmfWqgkz6rUMN16bI4rwMI/s1600/John-Tyler-e1375298032558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPw74KYDvCQtN2eJ6AAugnSruPTDTGuBz3u1o_rmFqR21XDVrAPRmNlZDcrjKn_HebX0JUYDN_XwLpcvt98jJ-rX8uDyRjy0aVGED2UPmaOQzRw1wVFhWEOYmfWqgkz6rUMN16bI4rwMI/s400/John-Tyler-e1375298032558.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Tyler</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Tuesday 8</i>: orders
came this morning to land us at Hampton Rodes about 3 or 4 miles from here and
then march to York town. When we got there the order was countermanded and they
are to cary us there in this boat. we returned to Fortres Monroe and then took
in cole. Hampton rodes has bin pritty
much all distroyed by fire by the rebels. Saw the old mansion of vic President
Tyler.* Newport News is about opposet this place. these hav all bin seans of
battle and blood shed but is all in the hands of the union now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*John Tyler, the 10th president, lived at Sherwood Forest
Plantation in Charles City on the James River from 1842 until his death on Jan.
18, 1862, less than three months before Edson steamed past his house.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 8</i>: Weather
still clowdy and stormy. Remained in camp with nothing to molest or make us
afrade. Many troops are stiring – and wagons moving to and from our Grand Army
near York Town.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 9</i>: I was
detailed as Sargt on the road today laying logs to support the wagons. rained
in Afternoon. got very wet. returned to my rubber tent. found a good fire
awating.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday, April 10,
1862</i>: wrote a letter home &c. heard heavy firing in the Afternoon
towards York Town; – am to work on the road tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 11</i>: Working
on the Road; Freedom* came over to see me as the 2nd Regt N.H.V. were stationed
near by; – the boys were looking well. I went over in the evening and had a
good long chat with Freedom.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Freedom Rhodes, a sergeant in the 2nd New Hampshire, was
Eldad’s brother.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 11</i>: Started
this morning about 3 oc. and anchored at Ship point about 6 oc this morning
where we are waiting for further orders. ordered to land just below Ship point about 9 oc where
the shore is lined with soldiers going
toward york town. we have bin on the water 1 week and we was very glad to get
our feet on teriferma again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 12</i>: Saw
Esq. Liscom* from Lebanon. was glad of the privelige of meeting an old
acquaintance. we are camped near the
beach where we get oisters and clams which go first raight after living on raw
meat & hard bread.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Elisha P. Liscomb, a founder of the Northern railroad and a justice of the peace, lived in Lebanon, N.H. President Lincoln had appointed him allotment commissioner for the state in March <span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">1862. In that capacity he traveled to the front to check on sick and wounded soldiers, but his main task was to bring home soldiers</span>’<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> pay to support their families. Liscomb no doubt took a special interest in the 5th, as his son Charles was a 19-year-old corporal in Company C. Charles Liscomb was later </span>wounded at Antietam and died of disease
while the 5th was stationed at Point Lookout, Md., guarding Confederate prisoners.]<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 12</i>: still
working on the Road. the 2nd are still in camp neer by; had a hard days work.
Confound this way of working for the Union. we hope soon to be relieved.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, April 13, 1862</i>:
we are to desecrate the sabath by working on the Road; – and this by Gen
Howard, A pretended Christian. the 2nd moved today.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 13</i>: by the
request of the President we had prayer to day at 12 oc, which was to be threw
out the army. it was very appropriate. I enjoyed it very much.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 14:</i> had a
good time washing myself & cloaths. orders came from Gen. McLelon to have
no bugle calls or drum beting. the
rebels have bin throwing shels wherever they have heard them.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 15</i>: got up
feeling poorly this morning. think my constitution is very much broken in concequence
of the exposure we have had the first 6 or 7 weeks. I hope by the grace
and mercys of God that I shal have health and strength to carry me threw the
campaign. When I am not well I think much of the comforts of a quiet home.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRK2j2d6b2BzuCgbXR2f-S9C5mfJmKSuNDZ56tgjxAg2X4RHjed5Tf-OQFd6_QOnZoqwBmT0F6jXL_3ftmqu5cwh51GVDnukr2ShYYGx4llclyimwZcAOqs1Py1nGCRULcWLxkiIJ9qis/s1600/cornwallis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRK2j2d6b2BzuCgbXR2f-S9C5mfJmKSuNDZ56tgjxAg2X4RHjed5Tf-OQFd6_QOnZoqwBmT0F6jXL_3ftmqu5cwh51GVDnukr2ShYYGx4llclyimwZcAOqs1Py1nGCRULcWLxkiIJ9qis/s400/cornwallis.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lord Cornwallis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
May God grant that the time is not far distant when I shal
have the privelige of enjoying it. I feel that God is my portion and my all.
how comforting & consoling it is to the christian to feele that his
treasure is not of this world. A little before morn we had orders to pack up
and start in 1 hour. we marched about 6 miles on to
very near the spot where Lord
Cornwalice delivered his sword to Gen
Washington the 19 of Apr 1776*. this is a large beautiful plane with but few
houses present & apple trees are in blossom.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Edson was slightly confused on the details. It was Gen.
Charles O’Hara, Cornwallis’s adjutant, who surrendered at Yorktown on Oct. 19,
1781. Washington declined the proffer of O’Hara’s sword, deferring to Gen.
Benjamin Lincoln, his own second in command.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 15</i>: We
went on to the Road to work. at about noon we were ordered to march in to camp
as our Regt was under marching orders. we left camp about 2 and marched about 6
miles back into the Country toward York Town and encamped.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday, April 16,
1862</i>: we were in Camp untill 4 OC doing nothing but what most pleased us; –
when we were ordered to march we marched back about a mile and encamped for the
night. heard fireing at York Town.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 17</i>: Awoke
much refreshed; the sun arose in all the splendor of a Northern Mid Summar. the
birds Caroled in the trees with all the melody of Natures Songstress; and the
very air seemed to sooth us to rehope. heard heavy fireing occasionaly.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 18</i>: we are
still here in Camp sweltering beneath a hot sun. hear fireing every day. on
this very ground 80 years ago Gen Bragoin Surrendered to Gen Washington and on
this spot Americas destiny was decided in favor of Liberty.*<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*See previous note.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 18</i>: heavy
fireing this morning in the vicinity of York town which commenced about ½ past
1 oc and was kept up by intervals the
rest of the knight. Mr Liscom left here to day for home. the name of this camp
is Winfield Scot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 19</i>: 6
months to day since I was mustered in to the Service of the U.S. I went out
about 2 miles where I could see the rebel works and saw our
bateryes shell them. drew our new tents to day. they are quite convenient and
we like them very much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday, April 19,
1862</i>: to day is a day ever to be remembered by America. 87 years ago to day
the battle of Lexington was fought. A
year ago to day the Mass 6th was fired on while marching the streets of
Baltimore by a mob of Rebels.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfUzH2YVT-4Jvnh7mRf1UJDXN_1sJ2_F4AOgqc5IHb2IJPXm1Z6CqtnQlS7tNpkdCAGt_or8ML9SDLAs-kiObJuC163_iqnyAGq1Q56UlauB_-RDlIhE6gyWQdB877f81dg0bHb-2-kR8/s1600/kent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfUzH2YVT-4Jvnh7mRf1UJDXN_1sJ2_F4AOgqc5IHb2IJPXm1Z6CqtnQlS7tNpkdCAGt_or8ML9SDLAs-kiObJuC163_iqnyAGq1Q56UlauB_-RDlIhE6gyWQdB877f81dg0bHb-2-kR8/s400/kent.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry O. Kent</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Sunday 20</i>: Weather
still cold and rainy by inervals. was buisy writing a letter to the Republican
which I commenced yesterday. don't know how it will take or whether it will
take at all with H.O. Kent.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Henry O. Kent was editor and publisher of the <i>Coos County Republican</i>, the weekly
newspaper in Lancaster, Rhodes’s hometown. Col. Edward E. Cross had worked at
the paper, then known as the <i>Democrat</i>,
in his youth. Kent was Cross’s best friend in the 1850s; they regularly
corresponded during Cross’s western adventures. Kent also helped the state of
New Hampshire organize regiments for the war and had eased the way for Cross’s
appointment as colonel of the 5th.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 21</i>: had a
Division Drill under Richardson* in the fore noon which was very fatiguing. had
dress parade in the after noon. as usual heard fireing occasionally through the
day<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Brig. Gen. Israel B. Richardson commanded the 1st Division
of Maj. Gen. Edwin “Bull” Sumner’s 2nd Corps. Brig. Gen. O.O. Howard’s 1st
Brigade in Richardson’s division included the 5th New Hampshire.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday, April 22,
1862</i>: we had inspection by a US Officer to day. heard heavy cannonading on
the right wing of our forces at York Town; – went over to Gen Richardsons head
quarters with documents from our Regt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 23</i>: had
a drill in the fore noon. heard occasionaly heavy fireing at York Town; – The
Rebels are to make a stand at the best of their ability.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 23</i>: Went
out with the company on skirmish drill with out playing. the first time I have
drilled for nearly 2 months. wrote to wife
today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 24</i>: built
an oven to day for the left wing, a very large one.* made me a trowel out of a
piece of board and found plenty of good clas and poor Brick. Lit it and baked a
nice batch of beens for breakfast.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Edson was a brick mason.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 24</i>: had a
Regiment drill and very good one too; fireing still goes on daily at York Town.
Many of our men are dangerously sick at the Point. the Lieut went down in the
evening to visit them. found them very sick.*<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*The first lieutenant in Rhodes’s Company B was Welcome A.
Crafts. The hospital was at Ship Point, where the 5th New Hampshire had been
the first regiment of Howard’s brigade to land on April 6.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday, April 25, 1862</i>:
Joseph Call died at the hospital last night and Robert Cummings died to day at
10 OC and one more will probably die soon.* this is the fruit of our hardships
on our march to the Rappahanock and back to Manassas without food and shelter
uncared for by the Physicians.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Cpl. Joseph Call, a 26-year-old from Colebrook, N.H.,
died at Ship Point April 23, 18-year-old Private Robert Cummings of
Northumberland on April 24. Both were in Company B.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 26</i>: Waited
upon Bro Strong over to the Brigade Hospital about 1 mile. he was quite sick
but stood the walk better than I expected. the hospital is one of the
rebel Baracks. hope he will soon recover.* just recd letter from Bro &
Sister Folsom. am glad to learn that we have got so good a preacher at Enfield.
I hop God will abundantly bless & prosper his labours in sanctifying the
church and the convertion of many soles. this is my constant and sincere
prayer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
the Regt are out on
patrol duty to day. Drummer is over to the hospital getting wood & watter
for them and I am here sheltered from the rain in my little tent. I feele very
grateful to God for his goodness to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Pvt. Louis J. Strong was a 20-year-old native of Canada
who lived in Enfield, Edson’s hometown. He was discharged disabled six months later.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 27</i>: Went to
the hospital to help chop wood and brot watter and took care of the sick all
day. the first Sunday that I have bin
oblijed to work all day since I came into the army. our hospitals are in Old
rebel Baracks but they are fixed up so they are quite comfortable but it is
very hard to be sick from home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i>Sunday 27</i>: we were rousted up early in the morning and
orderd to be in readiness to march at 7 OC. we were on hand in Season; – and
after a march of 3 miles we came to a halt and made our camps; we are to make
fascines or gabions.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*The 5th was making fascines and gabions (brushwood bundles
and barricades) for use in McClellan’s siege of Yorktown.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday, April 28, 1862</i>:
we went out to make our gabions for the first time today – had poor luck – heavy
fireing and musketry can be distinctly heard. even the whistle of Cannon Balls
and shells can be heard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<i><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 28</i>: this is
our pay day. got our pay up to the 1st of March, $24.00. went down to the
hospital to see the sick and caried them some Oranges which pleased them very
much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 29</i>: choped
& carried wood & watter for the cooks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcaxG_FgcBBgn8SbTAhHsaUPIhgO-5tNuWfcebeKjozkBUBpSCd9pXSqjWWRdcVZwQM_CE5efT4csAWdX1TZSGfFSic2E7VGHaCypoD19JFbDrkVK5s4wbK1sb2DN53nFJYu8XxW6cf3Y/s1600/harry+young+2nd+nh.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcaxG_FgcBBgn8SbTAhHsaUPIhgO-5tNuWfcebeKjozkBUBpSCd9pXSqjWWRdcVZwQM_CE5efT4csAWdX1TZSGfFSic2E7VGHaCypoD19JFbDrkVK5s4wbK1sb2DN53nFJYu8XxW6cf3Y/s400/harry+young+2nd+nh.JPG" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harrison Young of the 2nd N.H.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 29</i>: we were at work making gabions. had prety good
luck. some Boys from the 2nd were up to day. every thing goes on prosperously.
we are out of our place up here in the woods building Eel pots<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 30</i>: hear
heavy fireing at night and during the day. we are still at work and still liked
to be. Sergt Hilliard and Lieut Young
were up from the 2nd to day.* had good luck building gabions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Like Rhodes, Sgt. Henry S. Hilliard and 1st Lt. Harrison
“Harry” Young were from New Hampshire’s North Country. Rhodes probably knew
Young, who was just a year older than him and came from the same town,
Lancaster. Young and Hilliard were in Company F of the 2nd New Hampshire.
Hilliard left that regiment for an officer’s commission in the 5th in late
1863. He was captured at Farmville on April 7, 1865, during the 5th’s last
battle of the war. Young was wounded at the second battle of Bull Run on Aug.
29, 1862.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday, May 1, 1862</i>:
We were up by times and had our quota of gabions out by noon. had a Co
inspection at night; – heard fireing during the day toward York Town and
beyond. hope Banks will be up in their rear with Mc Dowel soon.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Gen. Nathaniel Banks’s troops were occupied with Stonewall
Jackson’s in the Shenandoah Valley. The White House withheld Gen. Irvin
McDowell’s forces to protect Washington. McDowell’s absence in particular gave
McClellan an excuse to claim Lincoln was thwarting his Peninsula campaign. Many
Army of the Potomac soldiers believed this as well. But historians have come
down firmly on Lincoln’s side. In the view of most, McClellan mounted the
Yorktown siege against a creative but much smaller Confederate force, and his
dallying gave the rebels time to devise and strengthen their defense of Richmond.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday, May 1</i>:
Sat up with the sick boys at the hospital last knight. Sent 25 dollars for my
self and 30 for Bro Strong home by Mr
Liscom. helping about the camps to day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday, May 2</i>:
called out last knight at 12 o.c. to go with the wagons to the Regt and get
there lugage for they were ordered back to camp and be redy to moove to the
front at a moments notice but after every thing was all here the order was
repromanded and the Regt returned to there work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 2</i>: We were
rousted up at 1 OC in the morning and ordered to be in readiness to march immediately
back to our old Camp which we did. we suppose the Battle is to come off soon; –
we did not march to battle but did march back to our work; a fools errand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 3</i>: We
worked getting polls for facines. – Freedom
was up to see us from the point. Prof Lowe made a reconnaisance and the Rebels
fired at him. A heavy cannonade was kept up all day and evening; the Rebels
seem to think they can damage us – poor fools, we will teach them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ8FQFKwpxqH5eCh17GzDO1C4JX9vNtw2Q_7ilycWQQAX5kDjNsZJrE_AySrJU3L-2odZW58j6Bp5Q1bFVzs7Vt-9fzesHlm_ny_6INz0EdHfnMfNwuDceD7Wumwmy6TVzIPWyG9PVrA/s1600/great+stone+dwelling+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ8FQFKwpxqH5eCh17GzDO1C4JX9vNtw2Q_7ilycWQQAX5kDjNsZJrE_AySrJU3L-2odZW58j6Bp5Q1bFVzs7Vt-9fzesHlm_ny_6INz0EdHfnMfNwuDceD7Wumwmy6TVzIPWyG9PVrA/s640/great+stone+dwelling+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The Great Stone Dwelling (now a museum) at the Shaker Village in Enfield, N.H., Cutler Edson's hometown.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson, from
letter to Mr. and Mrs. Horace F. Folsom<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[Horace F. Folsom was Edson’s pastor back home in Enfield,
N.H. The letter was dateline York town, Va., May 3, 1862]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
You say you shal expect me home by autumn. that is something
I cannot tell but I expect to be home to selibrate the 4th but there seems to
be one large cloud between this period and that. If we pass safely through
that, I think the struggle will be over and peace soon restored to our
distracted nation and we that have come out here to do service and battle for
our nation will have the privilege of returning to our quiet homes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
that cloud is the two great contending armyes at this place.
we are daily looking for the battle to commence as our army are making great
preparations and the enemy are doing the same. I suppose they calculate to do
there best here for you know they are pretty much a used up mess and unless
they should lick us here and at Corinth I think they will give it up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
There was conciderable fireing along on the line last knight
and there is this morning. This is to keep the men from working on the fortifications
which is mostly done knights.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpKLifH9LUcHLqSeZ3gvVYvJse1AJouiPvuj4BOxKoFCfQ7i1ddYuOBOsI0LZGn7aS0Idhyphenhyphenn4WjG2nE0Ua3ah8xCuJDTkepW40d1FL3CS5c14E2Xe-6BTec29BejZkkVdI1NdtjWT8OY/s1600/CummingsAlbertG-portrait-002+5th+died+080211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpKLifH9LUcHLqSeZ3gvVYvJse1AJouiPvuj4BOxKoFCfQ7i1ddYuOBOsI0LZGn7aS0Idhyphenhyphenn4WjG2nE0Ua3ah8xCuJDTkepW40d1FL3CS5c14E2Xe-6BTec29BejZkkVdI1NdtjWT8OY/s400/CummingsAlbertG-portrait-002+5th+died+080211.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Albert G. Cummings</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Albert Comins has been promoted 2 months ago. he was put in
Sergeant Major and now he has taken another start. he is second Lieut. in Co.
A. Mr. Wire is agoing to have his discharge and go home I understand. don’t
know but he has started now.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
At 11 oc at knight finds me here agan at the hospital
watching around the sick. I1 has died since I was here and I believe he was
prepared to meet his fate. There is 2 others that I think must soon fo. I told
one of them just now I did not think he could live. he said he wished he had
someone to pray with him. I told him I would. I asked him if he was willing to
die. he said he was but I fear he is deceived.<br />
<br />
A sick bead is no place prepare
for this great work. He was very wicked before he was sick and the most of the
time since, poor fellow, he hardely knows what he says.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
There was part of our sick that were able to be moved [and]
started yesterday for N.Y. probably they will get better care there than we can
give them here. one of them was Charles Tolcott that used to be with the
Shakers.**<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
There is a great deal of heavy cannonading to knight by the
rebels. I can here shells whistle threw the air. think they must fall very near
our camp which is about a mile from here. I think little Mc. will be ready to
give them all they nead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It is most 1 o.c. and I must close for the knight and try
and try to fill this out tomorrow. I have been quite buisy the most of the time
to knight. There is a great deal of work in taking care of 7 sick men.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunday morning the 4th. Slept but little last knight. A good
deal of fireing all knight but seems quite still this morning. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Albert G. Cummings of Enfield had made first sergeant in
November, and his lieutenant’s commission was dated May 12. He was later
wounded at Fair Oaks, Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville but served out his
three-year term of enlistment and was discharged as a captain. He lived in
Harrisburg, Pa., after the war. Thomas Wier enlisted from Enfield at age 43,
leaving his daughters with the Shakers. Some months after his discharge, having
failed to secure the return of his children, he walked into the Shaker village
and shot Caleb Dyer, the head elder, mortally wounding him.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[**Charles L. Tolcott, a 21-year-old private from
Plainfield, N.H., died of disease in Philadelphia.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday, May 3</i>: Went to the hospital to knight to sit up with
the sick. found some of them very sick.
one had died since I was here
last. I think ther’s others that
will die soon. there has bin a great deal of
cannonaiding threw the knight. wrote to Bro. Folsom. returned to camp in
the morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<i>Sunday 4</i>: just had news that York town is evacuated and for us to
take 3 days rations and persue them. got all ready to start and orders came to
pitch tents agan and stop for the
knight. Bugles blowing, the Band playing, which makes it much pleasanter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* *</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Sk-zVvQ7taH9xLMdLB6NLdigCzhByeO841ClZS4O4q4QXwWroSP5lUwCIkd_5ch0NSxoVeKWZ2pRlM-n5ovm-_spl8Zl8YIhvBg3PP92M01ZTNbqCEWiTcgilkIWu1I45Ztd2hQFJVo/s1600/lowe%2527s+balloon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Sk-zVvQ7taH9xLMdLB6NLdigCzhByeO841ClZS4O4q4QXwWroSP5lUwCIkd_5ch0NSxoVeKWZ2pRlM-n5ovm-_spl8Zl8YIhvBg3PP92M01ZTNbqCEWiTcgilkIWu1I45Ztd2hQFJVo/s640/lowe%2527s+balloon.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Support crew fills Professor Lowe's balloon with hydrogen.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The “Prof Lowe” in Rhodes’s Saturday diary entry was
Thaddeus S.C. Lowe, who was also a native of Coos County in New Hampshire’s
North Country. His reconnaissance by hot-air balloon delivered the news –
shouted down by his passenger, Union Gen. Samuel Heintzelman, that the rebels
were gone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
All the men’s digging, tree-chopping and barrier-building
during McClellan’s siege of Yorktown had been in vain. Still, most soldiers put a positive spin on this. Lt. James Larkin of the Fifth New
Hampshire wrote to his wife Jenny in Concord: “Once more our army is victorious
without a battle. The Rebels have fled before us without a battle and the
national flag waves over Yorktown.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The next day, May 5, the regiment marched to Williamsburg,
where the 2nd New Hampshire was among the regiments involved in a sharp battle,
but it turned out the 5th was not needed. “I fear that we shall always be the
bloodless Fifth,” Sergeant George Gove wrote in his diary.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Such fears would be laid to rest soon enough.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/7-rebels-left-this-place-in-great-hurry.html">On toward Richmond</a></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-59543895874146070322015-08-22T07:39:00.000-04:002015-09-13T09:48:40.583-04:005.'it blew pritty much all knight but God preserved me and my little tent. bless his name' -- Cutler Edson, 5th NH<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/4-winter-at-camp-california-it-takes.html">[Previous chapter]</a><br />
<br />
March 29, 1862, was
the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers’ third day of hard marching near Manassas, Va. The men had hunted their
supper – hogs, cows and fowl. An afternoon snowstorm howled into evening.
Cutler Edson, a company bugler, wrote in his diary: “this begins to
feele some thing like Soldiering.”<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1RwFI39ho8UvuJJxL0GtpGKoL-39ZRO_Kkr0ZsJDCIxYO1Cye1985Oz5_JMhzGzmcZQqj_HaaUsl5B6uy1nIN7OnNjSTYV5ypxQJnpGqiFJGXd2hTo-QBYz485UV2EiBqwiXyHSvEL4/s1600/mcclellan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1RwFI39ho8UvuJJxL0GtpGKoL-39ZRO_Kkr0ZsJDCIxYO1Cye1985Oz5_JMhzGzmcZQqj_HaaUsl5B6uy1nIN7OnNjSTYV5ypxQJnpGqiFJGXd2hTo-QBYz485UV2EiBqwiXyHSvEL4/s400/mcclellan.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. George B. McClellan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For a regiment that had been in the field for nearly five
months without fighting a battle, the tramping around, sleeping tentless in
bad weather and living off the land turned out to be valuable training for harder
days ahead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the fifth chapter of the story of the 5th New
Hampshire’s first 15 months as experienced and recorded by Edson and Sgt. Eldad
Rhodes. The men’s paths will cross after the
Battle of Antietam, but even now their diary entries and letters march to the same beat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This chapter takes them from their winter home at Camp California
through several marches into the Virginia countryside. It closes as they prepare to depart on Gen. George B. McClellan’s Peninsula campaign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although there was impatience in some quarters for
McClellan to take his mammoth Army of the Potomac into action, he was smart to take his time. Soon enough the 5th would learn whether McClellan’s deliberate ways worked as well when he shipped his marvelous army out to confront the enemy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday Feb. 19,
1862</i>: played at the Generals.* recd a letter from wife. was very glad to
here from home once more. Sent home my old diary & a lot of old letters
today. have felt very much proffited by reading the beauty of holiness. it is
like food to a hungry man. I feele that my whole trust & confidence is in
my Savior.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Oliver O. Howard, the brigade commander.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 20</i>: Skirmish drill this fournoon. Brigade review
this after noon. recd 2 papers from Wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4qJmP-hjKh-dK7VTOTQoe1vkyph4JmBEVtTGeeVvk4MkkIco4FRHWYWlS22Fe7KSe4Ujn69MdzBKYrrV0IL7rMUdjKxEIBTyXNPjdlFblGEz56bJK0aTekQxwGkOHg0z3qW4P_BoAT0/s1600/Howard-OO-005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4qJmP-hjKh-dK7VTOTQoe1vkyph4JmBEVtTGeeVvk4MkkIco4FRHWYWlS22Fe7KSe4Ujn69MdzBKYrrV0IL7rMUdjKxEIBTyXNPjdlFblGEz56bJK0aTekQxwGkOHg0z3qW4P_BoAT0/s400/Howard-OO-005.jpg" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. O.O. Howard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Friday 21</i>: had a
good time on Skirmish drill. Visited the graves of some of our Soldiers. 17
graves. 2 of them have good Marble Slabs. one bars this inscription: “he was a
good Soldier and always don his duty.” I wish it could be said truithfuly so of
every Christian. recd a letter from Sister Abbie. Wrote to my good wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, Feb. 21, 1862</i>: we drilled to day all day. had a hard
drill in the afternoon under Gen Howard. expect a grate time tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 22</i>: this
is the birth day of the father of our Country. it has bin a holly day with us.
his fairwell address was read By General Howard. the Manchester Batery was here
and we had a great time. recd a leter from wife & Bro Folsom.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 23</i>: attended
meeting in the 64th NY. enjoyed it very much. have not had the privaleg of the
kind in some time. one woman present and prayed, a sight I have not seen for
more than 4 months.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 24</i>: General
inspection. the hardest rain and hail storm I ever new. it was so severe that
we did not get threw inspection. went back to our tents till it cleared up then
went out again and before we had time to form a line the wind blew a perfect
gail and in a few moments half of our tents were blown flat to the ground. the
gail was so powerful that the men could not keep there places and the line was
soon broken up and the men got back to there quarters the best they could. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we wated till 4 OC then went out by companyes and past
inspection but it was with difficulty that we marched to the parade ground and
back again. it blew pritty much all knight but God preserved me and my little
tent. bless his name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday, Feb. 24, 1862</i>:
Capt Brown has resigned and is going home. Lt Rice is Capt*; we went out for
inspection rain and sleet soon came on and we came to Camp. Soon a heavy wind
arose and blew every tent in the Regt down with some 10 exceptions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Col. Edward E. Cross had removed Capt. Edmund Brown for
incompetence. Lt. Thomas J. Rice, a 33-year-old Bostonian, was transferred from
another company and promoted to captain.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 25</i>: we were
buisy in the forenoon repairing damages; – had a drill in the afternoon under
Howard. had a hard drill.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 26</i>: we
had a drill in the forenoon under Capt Rice in the bayonet exercise. had a
brigade drill in the afternoon under Howard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 26</i>: skirmish
this fore noon. Battalion Drill after noon. gave calls at the Generals. washed
my cloaths. done some sowing and so fourth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 27</i>: rained
hard most all knight but cleared off this morning and the wind is blowing very
hard. no drill today. preparing to go
on picket to morrow. Wrote to Bro Folsom and sent a paper home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Letter, Cutler Edson
to Mr. and Mrs. Horace F. Folsom<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[From Camp California, Fairfax Co., Virginia, Feb. 27, 1862]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our religious privaleges here are very limited. We have had
no religious meeting here for a long time but we expect our Chaplain back soon,
then I am in hopes our meetings will revive again. I think we might have had
them all the time if he had left it with some one to go on a head and took the
lead. I keep up our family devotions which I think has proved a great blessing
to me & my little tents company. . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we was on picket last I thought it was the last time
that we should have that duty to perform but our turn comes tomorrow again. We
are to start in the morning and before our time there expires, we expect to
advance on to Manassus with about 160 Regts, which will average about 800 each.
This will make a large armey. I hope the sight of so large a force will be
sufficient to subdue the rebels there without the use of Shells & Ball, but
if not we shall give them a few portions of the latter which has not failed in
a single instance of cureing since this year commenced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are quite buisy in camp today getting ready for a start
and you must excuse a short epistle this time. I send a picture of our noble
General in this to my folks. Please forward it with my love to them all. My
health is very good and I feele glad that we are going to advance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 28</i>: Went on
picket this morning Went as far as
Edsels hill in to the woods where we made us some shanteys and built fires and
made our selves quite comefortable. it was pritty cold but we ware warm enough.
marching got here about noon. cold windy knight but we managed to sleep
comefortable.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 28</i>: We were
inspected early and started on picket on Edsels Hill; we reached our place of
destination at noon 9 miles from Fairfax CH. we went to see the carcus of a
dead negro who was laying unburied half a mile from our quarters. he was a
notorius murderer of our pickets but finally was shot, his just deserts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, March 1</i>:
we were relieved about 11 oclock and marched back to the head quarters of the
Regt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday March 1</i>:
Companyes that did not go on duty yesterday are drilling this fore noon in
Manuel exercise. likewise this after noon. it is quite pleasant here by our
large camp fire this eve as the stars shine bright above us<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 2</i>: this
seams but little like Sunday here in the wilderness. Snows hard this after noon
and we have to remodle our house to keep the wet out. recd a letter from home
yesterday which was very comforting to me. the men are haveing a great game of
Snow balling. better be reading there Bibles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, March 2, 1862</i>:
We were buisied in preparing for inspection. it began to snow in the afternoon
– we had a grate time snow balling with
Co G. we rather worsted them. I think the storm turned to rain in the night; --
a stormy night ensued.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 3</i>: Started
this morning for the picket line. it is moved a little bit nearer the rebbels
than when we was out before. we had a very bad uncomefortable time. it rained
most all knight and our bow houses wet threw so that it was about as bad for us
it would have bin out doors. we got but little sleep and come out feeling the
worst for wair.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 4</i>: went
back to Edsels hill this after noon where we found the rest of the regt had
advanced on the enimy and our orders ware to follow them in ½ an hour. We did
so and we camped at Springfield Station in the grove for the knight where we
built bough howeses and fires for our comefort. just recd a letter from Bro
Jewett stateing the death of Father which took place on Sunday the 23 day of
feb. thus our friends are passing away. I know not how soon it may be my turn.
Oh Lord prepare me for the Change. had a good cup of tea & feele pritty
well. wrote to wife & sent Jewetts letter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday, March 5,
1862</i>: We were on our post near old Dangerfields farm. we are in the forest
near the New Jersey boys pickets.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GUwTojjmTa-G19zEaKntKlNz5p_Dap0FPPLhBT2uCA8-x8a539aG3iJAM7Md6PSs6XB5ItWZrJdTBzndpuc-OY_y7-FIAR4xCmj6h-klu8Wk7awd_xLJ5QaoIBlZ-_rm6__Q9dUeEHw/s1600/5th+NH+Capt.+Welcome+Crafts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GUwTojjmTa-G19zEaKntKlNz5p_Dap0FPPLhBT2uCA8-x8a539aG3iJAM7Md6PSs6XB5ItWZrJdTBzndpuc-OY_y7-FIAR4xCmj6h-klu8Wk7awd_xLJ5QaoIBlZ-_rm6__Q9dUeEHw/s400/5th+NH+Capt.+Welcome+Crafts.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome A. Crafts, Rhodes's lieutenant</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Thursday 6</i>: We
were on our post all day. Crafts* and others went out and killed 3 sheep and a
wild Hog; we had half a sheep for our portion cooked by our Camp fire. had a
fine supper.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Lt. Welcome Crafts of Company B]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 7</i>: did not
have any thing to eat but a small dipper of beans. Oh a glorious time is this
serving ones country in this manner – all is quiet by Camp fire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b></b><br />
<b></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Friday 7</i>: Stayed
here in the woods all day in the Smoke which was very bad for our eyes. all
quite till 10 OC at knight when the drum beat the long role, a sign of
trouble, and our Regt was on a line in 5 minutes. we went on double quick
aboute a mile and drew up in line of battle expecting every moment to have a
fight as our men ware ordered to load and cap there guns very carefuly. We
stoped here about 10 minets with out seeing any thing to fight with and then
ordered back to our camps. we were gon about 1 hour and glad to crawl in to our
beds again.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 8</i>:
Started back to Camp California which we reached about 2 OC having walked about
12 miles. was glad to get home after being out 8 days. a rather tough time on
the whole. we have rebuilt the Brige over [missing] that the rebels distroyed
and repaired the road to Birks Station. recd a letter from wife.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 9</i>: a very
pleasant morning. good Baked Beans for
Breakfast. they went well after living on hard crackers & raw pork for
several days past. Just recd a viset from James Pearson & Marcus Bartlett
from Lawrence. very glad to meat old friends here in a strange land.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b></b><br />
<b></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Sunday 9</i>: we had
an early inspection; I went over to the brick Hospital and had a pleasant time;
– everything passed off finely. – we are aprehensive of marching soon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Monday 10</i>: We were
rousted up at 1 OC and ordered to march at 6 OC to the front. we marched all
day through rain and mud without any thing to eat at all. we marched about 20
miles and encamped on a large field with Turners Division and cavalry and
batteries; – laid on the ground.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Monday 10</i>: at ½ past
1 this morning had orders to pack up every thing that we wanted to carry and be
redy for a march at 6 oc. all in readyness at the time, we bid farewell to our
home at Camp California probably for ever. we left all our tents and shal have
to live with out them. it seams sad to leave our old home and to go we now not
where, but it is for that we came here and I for one wish to answer the end for
which I came here. the whole division started. we marched towards centervill. rained
all the fore noon which made it very muddy and hard marching. we marched about
15 miles and camped on Brimstone hill some 2 or 3 miles from centervill.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Tuesday 11</i>: rose
this morning feeling pritty old but after stirring round a while and drinking a
good cup of coffee and eating sum nice rost Pig that we captured we began to
feele quite like our selves agan. then we heard the news that Center Vill and
Fairfax ware evacuated which gave us new joy. the country threw which we past
is mostly forest with now and then a scatering house which is evacuated. at 11
oc we had orders to march. we went in the direction of Manassus. halted about
3 OC. camped for the knight I understand in about 5 miles of Mannassus.
it has been a beautiful day and I have enjoyed it very well except being a
little lame carrying my lode which is heavy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Wednesday 12</i>: We
rose this morning at ½ past 4 and made ready for a start a little past sun rise. marched to union mills 3 miles from Manassus
where we encamped. our march thus far has bin short to day and we performed it
with ease. this has bin a very strong hold for the rebels but they evacuated it
last Sunday.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Thursday 13</i>: Staid
at union mills to day. about 30 contry bunds [contrabands: former slaves
fleeing to freedom] came in to day. had dress perade last knight and to knight
on the same ground that the rebels occupied last Sunday. they burnt the Bridges
here. left conciderable provision. nocked in there molases barrels, tiped over
there flower and meet barrels, crakers &c.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREpdPrFGZI9wHjnE0DqnkIn4MDlHpF1JfKx9v9wv_Q8sCJRsLVF8w8ZsgwtbkhN8bPXAod9ZmbCDztnmGzD1cCDntdcfamr1aLJN8sGXHwIfAOcHfHJlxRNwLf9aMfOc7B_Ku5CvkTa0/s1600/henry_house_ruins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREpdPrFGZI9wHjnE0DqnkIn4MDlHpF1JfKx9v9wv_Q8sCJRsLVF8w8ZsgwtbkhN8bPXAod9ZmbCDztnmGzD1cCDntdcfamr1aLJN8sGXHwIfAOcHfHJlxRNwLf9aMfOc7B_Ku5CvkTa0/s640/henry_house_ruins.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruins of the Henry House, a landmark in the first Battle of Bull Run. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b></b><b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Thursday 13</i>: Many
contribands were brought in to day and some prisoners; – the genral aspect of
affairs is pleasing; Mr Wilkins* arrived to night from N.H.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*Elijah Wilkins, the 5th New Hampshire’s chaplain, had been
on leave.]<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, March 14, 1862</i>:
I went out with Crafts, the Chaplain and others to the Battle ground of the
21st of July*; – saw many sights and wonders in Menassas. got back at night
very tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[*First Bull Run. The battlefield was a popular destination
for curious soldiers who had time to visit.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Saturday 15</i>:
Weather very rainy. we having nothing but our rubber blankets. took as a
natural consequence a severe drenshing; – had a thunder shower in the evening;
we were wet to the skin.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Sunday 16</i>: we left
our encampment for Fairfax in the Morning. reached the Court House at 1 oc some
10 miles from our former camp; road very muddy. we were tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b></b><br />
<b></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<i>Sunday 16</i>: Ordered
back to Camp California. all those that could not keep up with the Regt on
account of sickness to start first on the R.R. and if we got a chance to ride
on the cars to improve it. I being of that number had a chance to ride for the
first time since I came to Md. last fall. we walked some 3 or 4 miles where we
found the cars and to our great satisfaction we got abord and landed at our old
Camp a little before knight. about 60 of us found our tents mostly standing and
occupied with another regt, the 14 NY.
but they gave us room which we were thankful for.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 17</i>: got up
this morning feeling some better but after stirring round a while the pain in
my head was quite severe. Washed out my cloaths and aranged my tent for house
keeping agan. thers some 15 or 20 regts camped near here since we went off.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 17</i>: we were
marched back from Fairfax C House to Manassas after dark last night; – who
would suppose that human power of endurance could endure it. Midnight found us
at Manassas. Marched up to the Rebels Camp and occupied it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 18</i>: We got
a good nights rest in our new Camp, formally occupied by the bloody Rebels. We
were much fatigued; - got two letters from Home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 18</i>: 5
months to day since I enlisted. how fast time passes & how many have bin
the changes in that short space. have suffered much with my head. it seems to
grow harder each day but think it has got to its hight. wrote a few lines to
wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 19</i>: laid
abed most of the time till after noon and have suffered but very little pane.
this evening feeling very well. recd orders to march back to our Regt to morrow
morning which are at Manassus Junction. have bin bakeing hoecakes this eve to
cary with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 20</i>: left
camp this morning for manassus to join our Regt. Marched to Springfield then
took the Cars and rode to with in 1 mile of Union Mills where we got out of the
cars and marched about 3 miles where we found the rest of the Regt well
quartered in rebel Baracks. I stood the journey very well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 21</i>: a hard
sick day. took an immettick which keep me up till 12 oc. got a very little
rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 22</i>: got up about 10oc this morning feeling a
little better but rather feeble for a soldier. think I shal be better in a few
days. a good many complaining. think the watter is bad & all camp
unhealthy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 22</i>: we
remained in Camp as usual; 25 men from each Co went out in the afternoon to
build a Bridge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i>Sunday, March 23, 1862</i>: had Co inspection in the Morning,
and divine service in the afternoon; – I hope we soon may move from this
unhealthy disagreeable place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 23</i>: health
the best to day for 2 weeks. for this I cannot feele grateful enough. Searman
in the field by Bro. Wilkens, the first I have heard for a long time. it was
refreshing to my hungry sole. think this is a very fertile country but it is
cursed with Slavery. God grant that this sin may soon be blotted out. Wrote to
my good wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 25</i>: recd a
letter from home this morning and wrote and sent one back by Mr. Walcut. then
we had order to march. packed up and started about 9 oc. passed threw Manassus
junction. saw the distruction of the place that happened when the rebels left.
they burnt there stors – could not take with them – and most of there houses.
from there we went about a mile and camped for the night<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday 25:</i> Had
orders to march; – started and passed Manassas Junction at 11, encamped for the
night 2 miles below the Rail Road; there was about 30000 men encamped near us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 26</i>: Started
at 9 OC down the Road. Marched about 12 miles through variable country, now
fording streams, now diving through thickets and anon over level fields; – encamped
quite tired; – a hard days march.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCu_3-YXiapqKQjxJTyK6dI-arU2L2QPw7v70aTP42JgA1xJm1fdp8q3Uu7VTYVy8zIGa_BeAe3hW682bEMOE4XcMUXo4ayOkoy2CWVp_VWCZSRaB2-xXzrYHSuqcnZd_YqVk3Ii63QUY/s1600/ashby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCu_3-YXiapqKQjxJTyK6dI-arU2L2QPw7v70aTP42JgA1xJm1fdp8q3Uu7VTYVy8zIGa_BeAe3hW682bEMOE4XcMUXo4ayOkoy2CWVp_VWCZSRaB2-xXzrYHSuqcnZd_YqVk3Ii63QUY/s400/ashby.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashby graveyard at plantation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i><i>Wednesday 26</i>:
Started this morning at 7 oc. & marched towards the Blue ridg. passed some
beautiful plantations, one belonging to Mr Snow formerly from Claremont. he
went with us some ways. built our Bridges as we went along. Mr Snow was Major
when in NH. Marched about 12 miles, waded a river and camped on the rebel
Kernels Ashby Plantation in Prince Williams Co. it is a very nice place, good
enough for a union man. built our cabins and turned in & had a good nights
rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 27</i>: a
very pleasant morning. took up our line of march about 9 oc. marched till most
knight. drove in the rebels there about 10. Shels towards warington. Made our
coffee, eat our hard crackers & raw pork, spred our blankets on the ground
and lade our selves down for rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 28</i>: ordered
to leave our over coats and go in advance to day. Started this morning about ½
past 9 neare Warington junction. quite
warm. grass and grain begins to look quite greane. our camp lay about South.
about 10 Oc. drove in the Rebel pickets and pursued them till about knight
where we had a sharp engagement. drove them over the Rappahanack where they
made a stand and fired several cannon balls at us but none took affect, our
artilary returning the compliment throwing about 50 Shells which made the
rascalls scatter like sheep. after dark returned about 3 miles and camped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Friday 28</i>: Started
in the morning. In advanced guard of Howards brigade. have drove the Rebels 8
miles, shelled them occasionally, reached the river, was fired upon by a Rebel
Battery, occupied a hill and supported a Battery while they scattered a Regt of
Cavalry. 3 miles from the river the Rebels burned everything<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday, March 29, 1862</i>:
We awoke much refreshed but hunger began to tell on us we marched back to the
Junction; – our troops all the while
collecting cattle and killing pigs got back at last very tired and Hungry. a
cold rain set in to add to our misery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Saturday 29</i>:
returned to Warington junction taking a large lot of cattle which we forwarded
to head quarters. took Hogs Sheep Fowls &c. got in a little past noon in a
Snow Storm. Snowing and rain all knight which made it very bad and
uncomfortable. this begins to feele some thing like Soldiering.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday 30</i>: Weather
very rainy and disagreeable. we were in the mud with no further shelter than
what our rubber blankets afforded us; – and without much to eat; – a severe
storm is this way down here in Dixie; – my thoughts wander to the far North and
home and friends seem doubly dear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 31</i>: quite a
change is taking place in our Reg. we are still in the mud here without
anything to eat and no progress towards any; – at last hard crackers were
delivered to us; – and we dont know how long hunger tells upon us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Monday 31</i>: I went
out and played for the Sharp Shooters which they are organising out of this
division. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Tuesday Apr 1</i>: packed
up and started for Alexandria. marched most to Manassas Junction where we
camped for the knight with but very little to eat. forded 3 rivers and was wet
cold and tired and hungry. When we got
here our co was ordered on picket. our head quartors got a lot of Wheat Stacks. we collected a lot of rails, built
some good fires and dried our selves. Went
out and shot a few pigs. dressed and roasted. they made us a little
coffee and began to feele quite chearful after which we camped down amongst the
Wheat Stacks. the best beds we had sean since we left home and after commending our selves to
God soon forgot our troubles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 2</i>: Went
out and shot a lot more pigs for breakfast and drew hard crackers enough for 2
days. left here about 10. Marched about a mile & ½ and stopped at Manassas
junction and camped here. we got our male, 2 letters from home & from Bro
Gordon a town report. very thankful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieecGqfyCKZEL9IvUWP5ecMQCFGHWvrOMZRLBfwNdlsrvGMrq3ZchYknviHqFYGqUff3oqmH9klEcXIBIHi9IZcPWzMoyrnzW8_eq6cfHuGTNGWADCs8iPyvOJ64vxT0gNZB1qGjhQLQ0/s1600/fort+monroe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieecGqfyCKZEL9IvUWP5ecMQCFGHWvrOMZRLBfwNdlsrvGMrq3ZchYknviHqFYGqUff3oqmH9klEcXIBIHi9IZcPWzMoyrnzW8_eq6cfHuGTNGWADCs8iPyvOJ64vxT0gNZB1qGjhQLQ0/s640/fort+monroe.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortress Monroe near the end of the Virginia Peninsula</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wednesday 2</i>: Awoke
after a good nights rest on the ground much refreshed; Oh my country canst thou
not feed thy faithful Children who are laboring to rebuild what thieves and
vandals have destroyed; hard bread came at last, and we marched up to the
Junction, encamped for the night. take train tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 3</i>: We got
aboard the cars and went down to Alexandria. after much trouble; – we encamped
in the suburbs of the City on the ground; – are to take the bote tomorrow for
Fortress Munroe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thursday 3</i>: Birds
singing smartly. they seam to be praising God with there little voices; how beautiful the passage let everything that
hath breath praise the Lord. took the cars about 2 oc but did not start till about 5. arrvd at
Alexandria about 8. made us a cup of
coffee. spred out blankets on the green grass and slept sweetly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/5it-blew-pritty-much-all-knight-but-god.html">The Peninsula</a></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-14290289999812905482015-08-18T07:42:00.000-04:002015-08-24T18:13:10.237-04:004. Winter of '62: ‘it takes but little to make us comfortable’<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/3-i-should-like-to-go-to-charleston-sc.html">[Previous chapter]</a><br />
<br />
In the age of modern conveniences “winter quarters” sounds like a peaceful rest with little toil or danger. Although
neither army in the East sought a battle during the winter of 1861-62, the hiatus was
anything but restful for the men of the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Dg5MRX_nY59kKVLPmFl_N1omKw1tM_SfBzGkCmaxsuQ5wXlQ5Oe3frJwnGmvXRMrbUtgRloU1L1_sBSYCWN_C29nPDOsaG7JGARQmIA_-2Hv24M_0CQ8LVRSyzLhgI4yFU4pDRKgcwA/s1600/Eldad+A.+Rhodes+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Dg5MRX_nY59kKVLPmFl_N1omKw1tM_SfBzGkCmaxsuQ5wXlQ5Oe3frJwnGmvXRMrbUtgRloU1L1_sBSYCWN_C29nPDOsaG7JGARQmIA_-2Hv24M_0CQ8LVRSyzLhgI4yFU4pDRKgcwA/s640/Eldad+A.+Rhodes+%25282%2529.jpg" width="314" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldad Rhodes, postwar photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To read this fourth installment of the diaries and
correspondence of Cutler Edson and Eldad Rhodes of the 5th is to understand the labor and resourcefulness required to achieve basic creature comforts in the mud and snow. It is to realize how eager the men’s commander, Col.
Edward E. Cross, was to teach then to march and fight and endure. Cross also made foraging a key part of their work. From the countryside around them, in competition with thousands of other soldiers, he expected them to find and take what they needed
to eat, sleep and shelter themselves well.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later in 1862, after the regiment had been tested in battle, Cross gave this account of winter in the hilly countryside three miles west of Alexandria, Va., known as Camp California: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The regiment soon commenced doing picket and outpost duty at
the front, and established the first line of pickets on the line fronting the
enemy at Fairfax Court House. In the intervals of picketing and scouting,
whenever the weather would allow the men were thoroughly drilled, not only in
regimental but brigade drill, also in the bayonet exercise. The commissioned
officers were also drilled in the practical part of this duty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Schools were established
by the Colonel and Lieut. Colonel, for the instruction of officers and
sergeants during the winter evenings. A <span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">‘</span>common school,’ for such of
the boys in the regiment as needed instruction in elementary branches, was also
put in operation, the necessary books being donated by the Sanitary Commission.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“All through the winter my regiment furnished heavy details
to build roads, repair bridges, and cut timber. The pioneers were also
instructed in making gabions, fascines, and other engineering work. The good
effect of this drill and instruction has since been apparent to officers and
men on many trying occasions. ”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This chapter of the 5th New Hampshire story told through the diaries and letters of the bugler Edson and Sgt, Rhodes begins with a letter
from Edson to his pastor’s wife back home. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>January 19, 1862: Cutler
Edson letter<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[To Mrs. Horace F. Folsom, a fellow member of the Methodist
Episcopal Church in Enfield, N.H. The letter is datelined
Camp California, the 5th’s base in Volusia, Va., during
the winter of 1861-62.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have had a very unpleasant time on picket on account of
the weather. When we started last Wednesday, there was about 2 inches of snow
but the ground not being frozen it soon became soft and muddy as it was quite
warm and rainy. We marched from Camp Sumner on Edsel’s Hill, the headquarters
of the Regt when we are on picket.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and now sister imagine for a moment our situation and
comforts. We were marched in to the edge of an oak grove and halted (all but 2
co. which went on to the old line that we occupied when we were here 6 weeks
ago) and ordered to make our selfs
comfortable. Raining stedy, mud about 2 inches deep, not a board to cover our
selves with nor a tent except a little one for each co. for the officers. our
overcoats wet nearly thru and our selves weary with our march carrying our
knapsacks with our blankets.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but this is no time for yankeys to sit down and fold their
hands, but they went to work with one mind, some shopping wood, some clearing
away the snow and preparing for camp fiers. Some went about ½ a mile to the
railroad and stripped boards from the fenced and luged them on ther sholdors to
build us sheds. others went still farther to a corn field and got corn
stalks and came to a hay stack and got
armes full of hay to sleep on and in the coars of 2 or 3 hours we had good
fires started, our shanties built and began to feele quite our selves again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiyF2mhpRzSS6cREtA7lcT-c7FnNS9nrsGg4Y6aJeChwmhNp0yBzqLVItqXUjTXjc9hkTZZlXLkKXQpPh06Yz8gfMg3MhjbVKZj_lG8CeQmFcS3MWbDp96A7GmisPNXwB0dOVhgAIHpA/s1600/5th+NH+Capt.+Ira+McL.+Barton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiyF2mhpRzSS6cREtA7lcT-c7FnNS9nrsGg4Y6aJeChwmhNp0yBzqLVItqXUjTXjc9hkTZZlXLkKXQpPh06Yz8gfMg3MhjbVKZj_lG8CeQmFcS3MWbDp96A7GmisPNXwB0dOVhgAIHpA/s400/5th+NH+Capt.+Ira+McL.+Barton.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ira McC. Barton, later in the war</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
it takes but very little here to make us comfortable if we
can only think so. On Friday there was a scouting party of about 40 men under
Capt Barton of our co. sent out to reconoitor. We went to Burks Station which
is about 10 miles & very near the Rebbel pickets. Here we took 1 horse and
10 head of cattle & a lot of Ducks and Chickens. It was this mans daughter
that gave the signal out of the window to the Rebbels when some of our troops
were passing quietly that way by the house and 6 of our men were taken
prisoners. He has a nice house and plantation which will all probably be
confiscated to the union.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have had a very wet muddy time but we are flattering our
selves that we have bin here on picket duty for the last time as we are
expecting to make an advance soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You spoke of sickness and death at your place. We are having
a great deal of it here. 6 died since we left last Wednesday, making 18 in the
whole since we left N.H. There is a good many sick now. Many refus to go in to
the army for fear of being shot but I think that we shal loose many more by
sickness than we shall by the hand of the enemy.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The whole Regt is expecting to go out on a forreiging
expedition this week in the direction of Fairfax court house. We expect to
start Wednesday. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had a very good prayer meeting although but very few in.
Thank God there is some faithful soles here in the armey.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The 5th New Hampshire in fact earned its nickname, the
Fighting Fifth. It lost 295 men killed or mortally wounded in battle, the highest total of any of the estimated 2,000 Union infantry regiments that
fought in the war. The death toll from illness was 135.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldad Rhodes diary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday Jan. 19, 1862</i>:
Was cold and rainy as usual We were
relieved by the Penn Regt. about noon We
marched back five miles on the Rail Road to camp Many men were down at the heels before we got
back All were tired and glad.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 20</i>: We had
a funeral today and layed a soldier in his narow house with his Martial Cloke
around him. Did not drill on act of the
rain<i>.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday</i> <i>21</i>: did not drill to day on account of
the mud. I wrote a letter to Geo Stockwell to day at Lancaster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 23</i>:
Weather much improved. We went over the line after brush for our tents, had
dress parade in the Evening, had orders to be ready to march at fifteen minutes
warning; – presume we shall leave soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 24</i>: We had
a skirmish drill in the fore noon under Crafts* and a battalion drill in the
after noon in which all the Regiments in the brigade participated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Welcome Crafts, first lieutenant of Rhodes’s Co. B of the
5th New Hampshire.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, Jan. 25,
1862</i>: Weather stormy and cold. did
not drill to day; had dress parade in the Evening; I have the teeth ache these
times; wrote home to day; Every thing is prosperous.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 26</i>: e went
out on inspection in the forenoon; had no grate excitement; I went up to the
second tent to day as Sargeant of the tent.
two men died today in camp.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 27</i>: we had
a good drill to day by Batallion under Howard*; I acted as second Sargeant in
the forenoon and third in the afternoon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Brig. Gen. O.O. Howard, the brigade commander.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday, Jan. 28, 1862</i>:
We drilled to day, Brigade drill under Howard. had a good display and all the
Regts manuevered well. heard heavy firing on the lower Potomac at night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 29</i>: I
was Sargent of general police to day, and did not drill. I drew wood for the
Hospital today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thursday 30: did not drill at all as I and the orderly were
in the Captains* Tent writing some of the time to day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[The captain of Company B was 40-year-old Edmund Brown of
Lancaster. Col. Cross dismissed him from the regiment a few days later.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-7WN_XB5isYo1gm2qSDmtYsmfh6F0NNTUE_6qZfPvqYsTMqrg3-X71uDx8hIAn9eMEJtqYyQSaksoN926GEpuWRyCDMgPrLszq-hXy7JXdxrtHsBjMzIaGDjODrmt8tWY8NoEUSSmHk/s1600/berry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-7WN_XB5isYo1gm2qSDmtYsmfh6F0NNTUE_6qZfPvqYsTMqrg3-X71uDx8hIAn9eMEJtqYyQSaksoN926GEpuWRyCDMgPrLszq-hXy7JXdxrtHsBjMzIaGDjODrmt8tWY8NoEUSSmHk/s400/berry.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Hampshire Gov. Nathaniel Berry</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Saturday Feb. 1: Mr. Libby from Whitefield was here to day;
– he was after the Body of Parker* from Whitefield.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Bailey A. Parker, a 20-year-old Company B private from
Whitefield, had died of disease on Jan. 18.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i></i><br />
<i></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 2</i>: Weather
rather pleasant. we had a Brigade
inspection by Howard to day. Gov Berry
and Lecretius Tenney were here to day from N. Hampshire. they reviewed us on
dress parade.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Gov. Nathaniel Berry, a Republican, had assumed office in
June 1861. Allen Tenney was New Hampshire’s secretary of state.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 4</i>: We had
a Batallion drill under Howard, was put over the road in good style. after
drill in the afternoon we buried (Morse)* from our Co. who died saturday.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Aurin B. Morse, an 18-year-old private from Randolph,
N.H.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 5</i>: We
went on a Napsack drill out toward Edsels Hill 3 miles from camp; we got back
about noon. soon after my Brother* arrived in camp from the second NH Regt. was
glad to see him I assure the public.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*This was the wonderfully named Freedom Rhodes, a sergeant
in the 2nd New Hampshire, which had fought at Bull Run in July in the first
major battle of the war. Freedom was two years older than Eldad.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN31Ca1UJsFnkbA7EVRSIT2s33W1I1VDFsYbJ_moMRnucF0ixXUmC9EVGXwcX3AReIc9aw_t7s-7-RGW84M6ILgyyrh_g8tinpWbn2z0EQS1uud9QAiOnN4R1qGO5NqFUGbn-gyECeHmA/s1600/14th+NH+Capt.+Freedom+M.+Rhodes%252C+Co+E+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN31Ca1UJsFnkbA7EVRSIT2s33W1I1VDFsYbJ_moMRnucF0ixXUmC9EVGXwcX3AReIc9aw_t7s-7-RGW84M6ILgyyrh_g8tinpWbn2z0EQS1uud9QAiOnN4R1qGO5NqFUGbn-gyECeHmA/s400/14th+NH+Capt.+Freedom+M.+Rhodes%252C+Co+E+%25282%2529.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom Rhodes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday, Feb. 6, 1862</i>:
Weather cold and stormy. I and Freedom were up until a late hour in the Capt
and Adjts tents on Wednesday eve last; – he left for Alexandria early this
morning in order to take Boat for Washington at 7 OC.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 7</i>: we
drilled in forenoon. Company drill likewise in the afternoon. had good news in
the evening from Fort Henry*. it was taken with 25 cannon 17 mortars 2 Brig
Generals, Cols and Capts & c<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Forces under Brig. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant took Fort Henry
on the Tennessee River on Feb. 6. It was the first big victory for Union forces
in the West.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 8</i>: We had
Company drill in the forenoon, went after Brush in the afternoon. Frank Cross
arrived from Lancaster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Francis L. Cross, an 18-year-old volunteer from Lancaster,
was Col. Edward E. Cross’s brother. He served as a private in Company D until
mid-1862.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 10</i>: I was
Sergt of the guard to day. our brigade went on nap-sack drill out toward
Fairfax Court House. I do not fancy guard deauty much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 11</i>: I did
not drill in the forenoon. had bayonet drill in the afternoon. nothing further
occured to mar the harmony of Camp life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday, Feb. 12,
1862</i>: Weather very fine. drilled all day. had good news in the Evening from
the west. heard that Price* was taken and all his forces. do not put much confidence
in it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7tw4PduS071-Dm0FsnTKEjFTIMQoMUTsyu87h6KZpSY0mEw5BOD2QQQv7ut_QYIrgKH4Qaa0foPuBV-jWvDrGm9kwN_v4IX8RvjSE2zHb4V3IQFzeRJJp-Un2aY28JnyTN-Uqw8RPI8/s1600/Sterling_Price-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7tw4PduS071-Dm0FsnTKEjFTIMQoMUTsyu87h6KZpSY0mEw5BOD2QQQv7ut_QYIrgKH4Qaa0foPuBV-jWvDrGm9kwN_v4IX8RvjSE2zHb4V3IQFzeRJJp-Un2aY28JnyTN-Uqw8RPI8/s1600/Sterling_Price-1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. Sterling Price</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Confederate forces in Missouri under Brig. Gen. Sterling
Price were bent but not broken at this time. The Battle of Pea Ridge in March
1862 ended Price’s hopes of mounting a new offensive in the state.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 13</i>: in
the eve I went over to the Brigade Hospital, after a hard days drill; – had
good news in the evening from Fort Donalson Ky.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Grant’s troops were attacking Fort Donelson on the
Tennessee-Kentucky border. The fort surrendered on Feb. 16. The taking of Forts
Henry and Donelson opened the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers to Union forces.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, Feb. 15,
1862</i>: We were unable to drill on account of the Snow. we went into the
woods afternoon Valley Forge like; – Storm on, oh peevish nature, hide thou
from sight this black land of slavery by thy virgin mantle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 16</i>: we had
an inspection and went into the woods after brush and small trees. it bids fare
to storm tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 17</i>: we did
not drill on account of the Storm. had very good news from the west – Fort
Donelson. the Band came out and gave a
serenade and Cheer after Cheer ran the whole length of Regt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/5it-blew-pritty-much-all-knight-but-god.html">Signs of a spring campaign</a></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-78070861407167434342015-08-15T08:02:00.000-04:002015-08-24T18:16:22.082-04:003. I should like to go to Charleston and drive out the rebels<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zvEsn_8i88jHB1nxGtJKST9dGWdRqkRE2umB_nmWutw4wNxXAFrnUc_31Go3m1CxX5CrO6t2k_H5pKY1r6Am0wh8je8uSW4MjVksP59-eL_tLT2nCqQBkSAm9RDkgBLWiHeClIoxaWs/s1600/larkin+one+camp+california.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zvEsn_8i88jHB1nxGtJKST9dGWdRqkRE2umB_nmWutw4wNxXAFrnUc_31Go3m1CxX5CrO6t2k_H5pKY1r6Am0wh8je8uSW4MjVksP59-eL_tLT2nCqQBkSAm9RDkgBLWiHeClIoxaWs/s640/larkin+one+camp+california.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The winter hut of the 5th New Hampshire's lieutenant colonel, Samuel Langley, at Camp California (James Larkin photo) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/2-making-camp-in-maryland-and-first.html">[Previous chapter]</a><br />
<br />
The 5th New Hampshire Volunteers moved from Camp Casey in
Maryland to Camp California near Alexandria, Va., in early December 1861. At
this large encampment the New Hampshire men began to train in earnest for the
long marches and great battles that lay ahead. They also camped for the first
time with their comrades in the division of Brig. Gen. Edwin “Bull”
Sumner.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghHqDXjcvcqK-N-gVEU4YyUyW2LiA5NzzLXMWB1-d7t0DFxhGG8a-IEMSv0FCTTl8U3QKNd9thLu-KNWldThuVcmJlmQ_AvR-QL-snz0r5RmE69rf75p9iVd6looxYSnRzE9mtnMfxYHM/s1600/Larkin+Clouds+Mills+near+Camp+California.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghHqDXjcvcqK-N-gVEU4YyUyW2LiA5NzzLXMWB1-d7t0DFxhGG8a-IEMSv0FCTTl8U3QKNd9thLu-KNWldThuVcmJlmQ_AvR-QL-snz0r5RmE69rf75p9iVd6looxYSnRzE9mtnMfxYHM/s400/Larkin+Clouds+Mills+near+Camp+California.bmp" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clouds Mill at California (James Larkin photo)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sumner, born in 1797, was the oldest field commander in the
Civil War. He had been in the regular army since 1819.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p>Among Sumner’s troops was the Irish Brigade, alongside whom
the 5th New Hampshire would fight in many of the largest battles in the East.
The brigade consisted of three New York regiments and a fourth from
Massachusetts. Almost all were Irishmen. Their brigadier general, Thomas
Francis Meagher, was as colorful and fiery as the 5th’s Col. Edward E. Cross.
Cross considered Meagher a blustering drunkard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps a bit too glowingly, Col. Robert Nugent of the 69th New York, Meagher’s original regiment, described <a href="http://civilwarwashingtondc1861-1865.blogspot.com/2011/12/irish-brigade-goes-into-winter-quarters.html">Camp California</a> in these terms: “We
are located on a very fine hill, overlooking a magnificent valley, studded with
white tents, and presenting a view of some ten miles in every direction. The location is exceedingly healthy, the soil
is dry, firewood abundant, in fact inexhaustible, and the men getting wise by
experience, have not only put up their tents scientifically, cut drains round
them, but have been able to put in substantial floors, and glean as much straw
in the neighboring fields as to make themselves beds.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP3V_8VnrJ2l2OhoIDVF-Mh8ITovYpRBB1p8Z-MeXJUYry570jqnlX8k7rBKStOmwVsf9kBVgWPmBCcHBXYqmR5X0AKpF6eH13EklOgkUOs1SVrz_zbClld14MMACfVk_0bXn3p9klCMQ/s1600/calfiofrniacampmap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP3V_8VnrJ2l2OhoIDVF-Mh8ITovYpRBB1p8Z-MeXJUYry570jqnlX8k7rBKStOmwVsf9kBVgWPmBCcHBXYqmR5X0AKpF6eH13EklOgkUOs1SVrz_zbClld14MMACfVk_0bXn3p9klCMQ/s640/calfiofrniacampmap.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arrow points to site of Camp California. Above arrow is Clouds Mill, which was photographed by the 5th's James Larkin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As we will see, the bugler Cutler Edson and the soon-to-be sergeant Eldad Rhodes of the 5th New Hampshire were less romantic in their views of Camp California. Rhodes, who lived in Lancaster in the state's North Country, arrived there after New Year’s Day as a recruit to a regiment that had already lost many soldiers to illness.<br />
<br />
There is a gap in Edson’s diary from late November 1861 into February 1862. The 5th fought no battles during this period. It did make festive Thanksgiving plans, which were canceled because of preparations for the regiment’s move to Virginia and the failure of turkey and other victuals to arrive on time from New Hampshire. The men made up for this with a big
Christmas party, which is described <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2013/12/christmas-greased-pig-sack-race-oysters.html">here</a>.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
This third chapter of the story of the 5th New Hampshire’s early months consists of
a letter home from Edson and the first word from Rhodes as he prepares shortly
after the first of the new year to leave Concord for the regiment.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdJQeQG_z2JDxpATsYveYFun23SVIlz4VqixxbxUIU-pI8fYc1bk_QK72yvoAcR-x98hPwvy6ai0yMo72T0Y87glVAK-he1SCsODAvOCTlHdIfeliQKicj0XFincGLyTEgC9bVhePWUE/s1600/larkin+regulars+in+grove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdJQeQG_z2JDxpATsYveYFun23SVIlz4VqixxbxUIU-pI8fYc1bk_QK72yvoAcR-x98hPwvy6ai0yMo72T0Y87glVAK-he1SCsODAvOCTlHdIfeliQKicj0XFincGLyTEgC9bVhePWUE/s640/larkin+regulars+in+grove.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Among the images made by James Larkin at Camp California was this one of U.S. regular army troops in a stand of trees. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Dec. 1, 1861: Cutler
Edson letter</b></div>
</div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
[To Mr. and Mrs. Horace F. Folsom. The Folsoms and Edson
belonged to the same Methodist Episcopal church in Enfield, N.H. Theirs was the
largest Protestant denomination of those that eventually merged into the Methodist Church
in the United States. Horace Folsom was a manager in the Methodist Episcopal district
of Claremont, N.H. On Aug. 12, 1862, he enlisted as a private in the 11th New
Hampshire Volunteers at the age of 43. He survived the war and lived until
1878. Cutler Edson datelined the letter excerpted here ”Camp Californy,
Oswegotown, Fairfax Co. Va.” The Folsoms had asked him several questions about
army life in a recent letter, and he set out to answer them.]<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am one of the privileged caracters that go from Co. to Co.
all over our camp. When I am not on duty which is only from 4 to 6 hours a day
and then not very hard, I usually run over to see Bro Strong* 1 or 2 times a
day and have a chat with him. He seems to be getting along well, gets out to
social meetings when he can, learns his cookery.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I run in to our Chaplin occasionally. Like him very much, he
is good in social meetings, he is a Soldier every bit of him. It looks a little curious to me to see a
minister armed with a sword by his side and a revolver fastened to his belt.
But this is the way they do it out here in the rebels land.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Vq-_3nWdykh42Lz0m360r9NhsTZ_NxQNMVUCHr4XNlJ7xDJvYXf6g3M5bidWHeLHTUcrVMVpq2HJvSCpBcgm_XDiJL6ZE2KfAYHqLb11ahK0Ul7QHvSPfQz5JKJCrw7gpAaVqEr9vxc/s1600/sumner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Vq-_3nWdykh42Lz0m360r9NhsTZ_NxQNMVUCHr4XNlJ7xDJvYXf6g3M5bidWHeLHTUcrVMVpq2HJvSCpBcgm_XDiJL6ZE2KfAYHqLb11ahK0Ul7QHvSPfQz5JKJCrw7gpAaVqEr9vxc/s400/sumner.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maj. Gen. Bull Sumner, the 5th's new division commander</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I see our chief Bugler several times every day as we give
our general calls. The buglers generally all assemble in one place. He is
rather a wild young man but I have an idea he will get tamed down some before
he gets home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You asked how the rigeur of going south suited me – think I
should like it very much, should like to go to Charleston S.C. and drive
out the rebels and stop there till next
spring and then go home, but don’t know as we shal have the privilege. I think
we have some thing to do here in Virginia before we go much further south, but
we can’t tell what it is for us yet. Probably you get us much war news as I can
tell you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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You wanted I should give you a little sketch of camp life.
We have enough to eat but not always so palatable as we could desire but I
don’t feal to complain but recv what I have with thankfulness. It is as good as
we could expect under the circumstances. We have just as good beds as we can
make out of leaves, cedar boughs, etc. Some times we get a little straw which
is a great luxury but I usually sleep very well. Have not had the Rheumatism
but once, then it only lasted me 2 or 3 days.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We had rather a hard time when we went to Marlboro but
nothing to what others have endured. I did not faint by the way but someone
did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our Sundays here are not much as they are at home. We have a
certin round of duty to perform which takes up a good deal of our time. Our
religious services don’t generly last more than 10 or 15 minutes after we are
on parade. Some are off gathering wood and chopping, some fetching water,
others cleaning there guns &c.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All is life and --- in camp. My charge is much easier than a
privates. I have nothing to do but attend to my playing and am very well
contented with the situation. I miss a writing table and chare to sit in but I
do the best I can. For a seat I fold up my blankets and sit on, for a writing
table I found a small piece of board that I hold in my lap. So when I make some
crooked marks and some blots, think it not strange. My pen and ink are getting
rather poor and I don’t know as you can read it. If you cant please carry it to
my good Wife for she can read most any thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Our colonel told us to-day that we were very near 150,000
rebels and that we were lible to be attacked by them any day and to keep our
selves in readiness for a battle. We have 4 Regts in our Brigade with a
Christian man at the head, General Howard. We are now in General Sumners division, 4 Brigades in a Division. Ours occupies the right wing and our Regt
the extreme right, a very honorable position.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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[*Private Lewis J. Strong of the 5th’s Company C was a
Canadian by birth but had enlisted from Enfield in August. He was later
discharged for disability and went home.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<b>Eldad Rhodes’s diary</b><br />
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Wednesday, Jan. 1,
1862</i>: New years morning pleasant, and a mild day ensued. I was quite unwell
with a cold, am preparing to go to the war tomorrow; – Mrs Hartwell called in
the evening. – also Mrs Baker. Am in
hopes I may be better soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 2</i>: Weather
very cold and blustering. Started for Concord in the morning. Arrived without
accident at about 300 P.M. found Crafts* wateing at the Depot; went down town
in the Evening was not very well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimP8IErGg5L5rVTdk2L9OY0RkIcz_nJQubTV6R5RzzD_5UzsYO3Mr7n6AXEFCg6WxEq0F0W07qXbdMtP0kzz1LMmtffiMCFi60_nKqFvbjZ0xLSyUKb9ap9lSGfzVQM1GBmel239wI0Zk/s1600/5th+NH+Capt.+Welcome+Crafts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimP8IErGg5L5rVTdk2L9OY0RkIcz_nJQubTV6R5RzzD_5UzsYO3Mr7n6AXEFCg6WxEq0F0W07qXbdMtP0kzz1LMmtffiMCFi60_nKqFvbjZ0xLSyUKb9ap9lSGfzVQM1GBmel239wI0Zk/s400/5th+NH+Capt.+Welcome+Crafts.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome Crafts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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[*The ambitious Welcome Crafts, from Milan, also in the
North Country, was first lieutenant of the 5th’s Company B. He had his <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-saga-of-welcome-crafts-5th-nhvi.html">ups and downs</a> as a soldier, but late in the war, as a lieutenant colonel, <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2014/03/a-nasty-scrap-with-col-crosss-brother.html">he became the regimental commander</a>.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Friday 3</i>: Weather
cold and windy. I was at my boarding place at Wheeler nearly all day. Went down
town in the Evening and changed boarding places. took up quarters at the
Columbian Hotel Concord NH.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Saturday, Jan. 4, 1862</i>:
Weather very cold all day. I went up to the State House in the Morning and was
mustered in to the service of the U.S. and recieved my uniform with the rest of
the men, had my ambrotipe taken to send home; went up to the State house in the
Evening.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Sunday 5</i>: Rather
cool but pleasant – went to the lower part of the city with Bickford and Andrews*
after some recruits. we went to hear a lecture in the Unitarian Church in the
Eve, had a full house &c.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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[Nathan Bickford, 21, and Samuel A. Andrews, 24, men of the
state’s North Country, had mustered into the 5th’s Company B with Rhodes the
previous day. Bickford stayed with the regiment for 13 months. Andrews was
wounded at Antietam on Sept. 17, 1862, and killed at Cold Harbor on June 7, 1864.]<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 6</i>: Weather
cloudy and some snow; – was busy
arranging for our departure for the seat of War tomorrow for the defence of our
homes and Alters; and may the God of Battles prosper the right and bring a
speedy peace to our dismembered Nation &c<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday, Jan. 7, 1862</i>:
Started from Concord 7 1/2 OC (AM) reached Boston at 11 1/2 OC left B at 5
1/2 reached Newport at about 9 PM and
then started out on to the sound, for New York. Slept until 1 OC (AM). Went on
deck.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Wednesday 8</i>: Arrived
on the Wharf at NY at about 10 OC (AM). Marched to Park Barracks and were
kindly recieved by the Massachusetts Boys; left NY at 6 OC (PM) for Washington;
reached Philadelphia at about 11 OC (PM). All is well; still going.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday 9</i>: Weather
very damp and foggy, arrived in Washington at 7 in the Morning; we marched to a
campground, took breakfast, and marched around the city untill noon and then
went aboard a steamer for Alexandria reached A at (8 OC) and marched to camp
very tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday, Jan. 10, 1862</i>:
had a good nights rest in Camp. very muddy. did not drill on account of it;
wrote a letter home &c; am in hopes the weather will brighten up soon; and
make our dreary camp life more cheery.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 11</i>: underwent
an examination in the forenoon. Went out in the afternoon and procured brush
for our bed. had dress parade in the Evening. was not very well to day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 12</i>: the Col
inspected our armies to day. had divine service in the forenoon; wrote to Mrs
Underwood to day; Va. is a splendid country.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday, Jan. 13, 1862</i>:
I was promoted to Sargeant on dress parade this evening; – Cold & clowdy<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 14</i>: The
ground was white with snow in the morning, a cold wintery day ensued – it was
pay day and money was flush in camp at Evening; we were busy preparing for
picket duty tomorrow; A cold, winters night ensued.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 15</i>: We
were up by times, and off to our deauty as soon as possible. we took one days
rations in our haversacks 40 rounds of cartridges & Blanket to each man,
very cold & rainy; marched to Edsons hill and built our camp as best we
could. Slept on our armes all night, had a hard time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thursday, Jan. 16, 1862</i>:
Very pleasant weather; we were busy felling trees and bringing them to camp for
our fires; – this is my 21st birth day; I hope that my next birth day will find
our "glorious union" restored and peace and prosperity prevailing
everywhere; Crafts came to camp today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 17</i>: we
drilled in the forenoon. Crafts went out with about a dozen men on a scout,
came in at dark. we heard heavy firing on the Potomac; we are to go to the
front tomorrow; – all quiet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 18</i>: Very
drizzly and cold; we started on our march at 10 OC. we got our several posts
picketed by noon, – rain fell more or less all day. the night was dark and
stormy I stood my turn on guard five
hours.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<i><b>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/4-winter-at-camp-california-it-takes.html">Long marches and a trying winter</a></b></i> </div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-36514945403991745012015-08-11T08:02:00.001-04:002015-08-15T08:08:15.035-04:002. Making camp in Maryland, and a first march<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22XTnEa0BWuOBbp_UzpkYiXhDGJHX4ffxUbRmijlUlzjUWIay306bwkviseNrIMFQdOdkA4yeleMCLtxYU6ivZMclMQhiU4RhybioFBuEOCbkrt5aEstr70yc28iWGQDqQGIgPDlisSo/s1600/camp+casey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22XTnEa0BWuOBbp_UzpkYiXhDGJHX4ffxUbRmijlUlzjUWIay306bwkviseNrIMFQdOdkA4yeleMCLtxYU6ivZMclMQhiU4RhybioFBuEOCbkrt5aEstr70yc28iWGQDqQGIgPDlisSo/s1600/camp+casey.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lithograph of Camp Casey shows the tents of the 4th Rhode Island Volunteers and the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/1-story-begins-it-was-one-of-lovliest.html">[Previous chapter is here]</a><br />
<br />
On Nov. 1, 1861, the 41-year-old bugler Cutler Edson awoke covered with frost.
His regiment, the 5th New Hampshire, had reached its first camp near
Bladensburg, Md., but had yet to pitch tents. The men had slept on their blankets
after a meager meal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This second chapter of the regiment’s story told through the
diaries and letters of Cutler Edson and Eldad Rhodes covers the first three
weeks of November 1861. Rhodes’s voice is still absent; he did not join the 5th
until January 1862. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2k6iaQnkfYG5XeB45B7g6ye3O1ZmPAB15gGGQoojNwfF7t_gVqFHge1vsGaRt-RQ123pwg46A4rAMLN4F50EdeWOETHfwUFbcUj8NY7lF5e-69lz3CbQUbqoT-sXsNSfwbMwkTtN-80/s1600/Oliver_Otis_Howard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2k6iaQnkfYG5XeB45B7g6ye3O1ZmPAB15gGGQoojNwfF7t_gVqFHge1vsGaRt-RQ123pwg46A4rAMLN4F50EdeWOETHfwUFbcUj8NY7lF5e-69lz3CbQUbqoT-sXsNSfwbMwkTtN-80/s400/Oliver_Otis_Howard.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brig. Gen. Oliver Otis Howard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because of the Baltimore mob’s attack on Massachusetts
soldiers six months earlier, the men knew about the divided loyalties of the
people of Maryland. The 5th’s first long march and mission, described in
Edson’s diary, concerned keeping the peace at an election in Marlboro, Md.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The camp where Edson and the 5th found themselves on the
morning of Nov. 1 was named after the regiment’s division commander, Gen. Silas
B. Casey. Edson called it “Camp Cacy” in his diary. Casey’s age and appearance disappointed
him. The 54-year-old general had been in the army since graduating from West
Point in 1826. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Along with the 4th Rhode Island Volunteers and two
Pennsylvania regiments, the 5th was part of Casey’s first brigade, commanded by
Brig. Gen. O.O. Howard, a Mainer. Edson appreciated Howard’s devout
Christianity and went to the general’s tent for services whenever he could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Howard reported to his superiors about the brigade’s early
November excursion, which included ideological reconnaissance as well as the policing
of the Marlboro election. “Throughout Calvert County I found very warm
receptions from Union men and others,” Howard wrote. Only in Prince Frederick,
Md., did his men face violent resistance, including a confrontation with
Augustus R. Sollers, a former congressman.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqafGYo0SJ0CxHpZPYPoCjl9O5L0uevNsBdjRc1RXCg5JGUtthhKKzMuoVutyPukDfBPbIoDOopBxR5asVKbEvpNt4gSy34-wuROtCLM_LEfjh3BMB8bV7rMmI_yjRi8gHv88MHyeIQ6I/s1600/ColThosWelsh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqafGYo0SJ0CxHpZPYPoCjl9O5L0uevNsBdjRc1RXCg5JGUtthhKKzMuoVutyPukDfBPbIoDOopBxR5asVKbEvpNt4gSy34-wuROtCLM_LEfjh3BMB8bV7rMmI_yjRi8gHv88MHyeIQ6I/s400/ColThosWelsh.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Col. Thomas Welsh of the 45th Pa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He used the most violent and treasonable language, drew a
large knife and cut to the right and left,” Howard wrote. “He was secured and
brought in by Colonel Welch [Thomas Welsh of the 45th Pennsylvania] to Lower
Marlborough where he was taken so ill with gout that I could not bring him but
left him on his parole to report at Washington as soon as he is able to move.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Howard described the mission as a 27-mile march over bad
roads, difficult for new men. Because oats were in short supply, it was also
hard on the horses. The general wrote that Col. Edward E. Cross of the 5th New Hampshire “did
his duty well in marching and disciplining his command.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite the threats from Southern sympathizers, the election in Marlboro ran smoothly except for the antics of several drunken
men. The soldiers arrested them, but they were later released.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is how Cutler Edson experienced his regiment’s time at
Camp Casey.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cutler Edson’s diary
(continued)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday Morning, Nov. 1</i>: arose this morning covered with a heavy dew
and frost but he that never slumbers nor sleeps watched over us for good. we
have bin very buisy to-day pitching our tents and getting redy for house
keeping. we went about ½ a mile and gathered cedar boughs that we covered the
bottom of our tent. then we went to a corn field where we got a few husks for
husking which made us a very comfortable bead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, Nov. 2</i>:
this is a very rainy day and the mud is so deep that it is hard getting around.
in consequence we have not bin called on duty. at knight we had orders to take
2 days rations and make preperations for a march.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, Nov. 3</i>: We
started a march under sealed orders. where or how far we are going I know not
but after commending myself to God I started. we started about 11 oc and
marched 12 or 15 miles at what was called Oak grove where we camped for the
knight, but being very tired and Rheumatism trubled me so that I got but little
sleep. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday, Nov. 4, 1861</i>:
I am 42 years old to-day. We arose by day light this morning & traveled
about 23 miles which made us very lame and tired. I thought at noon I must give
out but after resting a while we went on and marched till after dark when we
came to a grove where the Mass. Troops camped some time ago and left ther bow
houses where we had a good knights rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Nov. 5, Tuesday</i>:
We remaned on the ground and rested us till Thursday morning 7th when we took
up our march for Camp Cacy where we arrived Friday night pretty well jaged out
but we accomplished our object and had great prais from the Colonel. the object
of our going to Marlboro which was about 40 miles was to protect the Union men
in there Election but they got along with out calling on us.* There was about
38,000 troops stationed along the line of the Potomac but the rebels did not
dare venture over.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Cross was indeed pleased with his men, writing to Gov.
Nathaniel Berry of New Hampshire that they had done “nobly” on their first
expedition.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday, Nov. 9</i>: we are not called on duty to-day and were
having a good rest which is very acceptable. Friday night Nov. 8 we had Prayers
in our tent for the first time which was a great blessing. thank God for
religion which sustanes and comforts us under all circumstances.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday 10</i>: This
has bin rather a solemn day in the Reg’t. 1 of our number died this morning and
was buried to-knight. it was a young man about 18 years old, George Fifield. he
used to be with the Shakers. Saw Bro Stubs on the parade ground to-day but had
no chance to speak with him. I yet feele happy in God.*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*The Enfield Shaker Village was founded near Mascoma Lake
in Western New Hampshire during the 1780s. George Fifield, a private in Company
C, was originally from Dorcester, N.H. Children came to the Shakers, who were
celibate, by adoption, proselytization or indenture. “Bro Stubs” is possibly
Rev. Robert S. Stubbs, a Methodist minister from New Hampshire who was a member
of the U.S. Christian Commission. Stubbs had preceded the 5th’s Chaplain
Wilkins as pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Manchester, N.H. In
early 1861 he was a pastor in Claremont, N.H.] </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 11</i>:
commenced to-day to practice 4 hours a day.* went out and gathered grass for
our bed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Bugle practice.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday, Nov. 12</i>:
this has been a very fine day. truly this is a beautiful country with a mild
climit, but Oh! the curse of Slavery. if it was not for that it would be a good
place to make a home. I attended a prayer meeting in the Chaplins tent
to-knight. had a very good time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday 13</i>: this
day seamed like a June day in N.H. & this Eve is very mild. J.P. Hale* was
on the ground today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*John Parker Hale was an antislavery U.S. senator from New
Hampshire.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Nov. 15</i>: the
funeral of Mr. Heath* took place this after noon. it was a Solemn time. It is
solemn to bury our friends at home but much more so in the Army. Oh! how I wish
all this Reg’t war Christians. The to die would be gane.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Pvt. Samuel A. Heath, 18, of Gorham, N.H., had died of
disease the previous day.]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Nov. 16</i>: this has
bin a cold blustering day and it has dried up the mud of yesterday so that it
is quite comfortable getting around. I have rec’d a letter from my dear wife
to-day which has bin very comeforting to me. Oh! how good it is to have
sympathising friends. I expect some day to go home to see them. my trust is yet
in God.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, Nov. 17</i>:
this has been a good day for my sole. Had preaching in front of the Generals
quarters by Bro Stubs from Acts 10-26 I also am a man. he preached good and to
the point after which General Howard made a speech which was rec’d by the
Christian Men in our Reg’t with gratitude. he is a Christian man and I believe
his talk will do us much good. I hope his admonitions will be headid in the eve
prayer meeting in the chaplins tent. it was crowded full and many standing
with-out that could not get in. when our good General came along and invited us
to his quarters and have a meeting there was about 20 of us when where we was
provided seats in a larg room in the old Seresps house. the General took the
lead of the meeting by reading the Scriptures singing and prayer. he was very
faithful to the soldiers in encouraging them to meat there God and the
necissity of attending to it now. Mr Young* our drummer arose and declaired his
determinations to be a follower of Christ. I hope he will go on till he finds
peace in believing and joy in the Holy Ghost. We spent about 1 hour to-gether
after which the General pronounced benediction & we retired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*This was E. Woodbury Young, the 21-year-old Company E. drummer
from Lisbon, N.H.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday 18</i>: it is
one month since I enlisted but it seams a good deal longer than that probably
owing to the many changes that have taken place since that period.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9lVvPNlWQqTi3Jb924-3Vv3ZCBl32TTyLq1VvcB48hmQMvgBRarlT9fYA4peAlnAlJ8OU1kGsy0CDcvj0S7LFTPnmv65dXPA6QuniBlmBMSG8F8p-skppEl48hMb4WCChiLazWExtIA/s1600/Gen._Silas_Casey_-_NARA_-_528032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9lVvPNlWQqTi3Jb924-3Vv3ZCBl32TTyLq1VvcB48hmQMvgBRarlT9fYA4peAlnAlJ8OU1kGsy0CDcvj0S7LFTPnmv65dXPA6QuniBlmBMSG8F8p-skppEl48hMb4WCChiLazWExtIA/s640/Gen._Silas_Casey_-_NARA_-_528032.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gen. Silas Casey, who had fought in the Seminole and Mexican wars.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday 19</i>: the
weather has bin quite warm today. General Casey was on the ground to-day and
reviewed our and the 4 R.I. Regts. he is an old man small of stature and very
plain looking. went to prayer meeting to-knight and felt my self more at home
in Christ than I have since I left home. I believe the Lord is doing a good work
in the Regt. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friday 22</i>: went
out to play for my co. for the first time. hope I shal make it go better next
time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Saturday 23</i>:
Saturday is a day for cleaning up and washing to prepare for Sunday. went out
this after noon for a general review. Recd a letter from my good wife. thankful
to here from home sweet home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Next: <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/3-i-should-like-to-go-to-charleston-sc.html">Camp California</a></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038500673287894406.post-87763552667506193082015-08-08T11:53:00.001-04:002015-09-21T18:32:38.427-04:001. A story in two voices begins on 'one of the lovliest mornings that ever dawned upon New England Shores'<div class="MsoNormal">
Neither Cutler Edson nor Eldad Rhodes lasted a year and a
half with the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers, but they were among the regiment’s
best diarists. Their diaries and letters convey what soldiers’ lives were like
during the early days of the Civil War.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-NXnXELBvsV0YNg6vIFceU-yT5yVfQPLk94fVy2k1A7CDFLR5gwCv7TC6MjTDzrZQ81mERdTfxpsdrkSB1_qMxmPIYEtbv8Hq1DqtPrQGy4we_6zlJUmTZISZkf4AoL1MXmUKNcVGHU/s1600/5th+cutler+edson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-NXnXELBvsV0YNg6vIFceU-yT5yVfQPLk94fVy2k1A7CDFLR5gwCv7TC6MjTDzrZQ81mERdTfxpsdrkSB1_qMxmPIYEtbv8Hq1DqtPrQGy4we_6zlJUmTZISZkf4AoL1MXmUKNcVGHU/s640/5th+cutler+edson.jpg" width="371" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutler Edson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edson was 41 when he enlisted as a company bugler. A
Vermonter by birth, he lived and worked as a brick mason in Enfield, a western
New Hampshire town notable for its thriving Shaker village. Rhodes, who joined
the regiment three months after Edson, came from the New Hampshire North
Country. He was born in Northumberland and was living in Lancaster when he
enlisted at the age of 20. Lancaster was the seat of Coos County, the state’s
northernmost, and had been the boyhood home of Edward E. Cross, colonel of the
5th New Hampshire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The paths of Edson and Rhodes crossed in meaningful ways
during and after the Civil War.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Sept. 17, 1862, the 5th New Hampshire crossed Antietam
Creek from its camp near the Pry house and marched to battle in the Sunken
Road, now also known as Bloody Lane. Rhodes, a sergeant, was shot through the right
lung there. Musicians like Edson often did double duty, burying the dead and tending
to the wounded. After helping Rhodes from the battlefield to the Pry barn,
Edson nursed him for weeks. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though grateful to Edson, Rhodes had also been wounded at
Malvern Hill 2½ months earlier and held surgeons in contempt. In hindsight,
perhaps at Antietam their failure to probe his wound with a dirty scalpel saved
his life. Eventually Edson took him to a military hospital in nearby Frederick,
Md., where Rhodes’s brother Freedom, a captain in the 14th New Hampshire
Volunteers, found him. Five months after the battle, Eldad was discharged. He
went home to live northern New Hampshire but later moved to Claremont.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edson stayed with the 5th but fell ill. In January 1863, he
was discharged at the age of 43 and also wound up in Claremont.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the surface at least, the two veterans’ postwar connection was a happy one. In 1882 the farmer Eldad Rhodes, then 41, married 26-year-old Abigail Edson, one of the five children of Cutler and Louisa Hoyt
Edson. Cutler had died the previous year, but most likely this union would have pleased him. Edson was a Methodist Episcopalian, Rhodes a Congregationalist. Unlike most northerners who volunteered for the war, both
men were also abolitionists. Cutler had been especially religious and often wrote in
his diary of his love of God and his hope for the destruction of slavery, which
he considered a national evil.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5VVAnE09FOOfNdUUerD4MI19CNn44o-wDRkfdA3tWkL6yAh09VthpAnAzqzLJvMlGaMcNDlHxei-p0EsnbcpXFJi0QQilDLnP3l2CyCCcE1CR3BnuJLPHpceB6ulNg4r1Qv5jpT_NGg/s1600/E.+A.+Rhodes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5VVAnE09FOOfNdUUerD4MI19CNn44o-wDRkfdA3tWkL6yAh09VthpAnAzqzLJvMlGaMcNDlHxei-p0EsnbcpXFJi0QQilDLnP3l2CyCCcE1CR3BnuJLPHpceB6ulNg4r1Qv5jpT_NGg/s640/E.+A.+Rhodes.jpg" width="385" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldad Rhodes (postwar photo), possibly on his wedding day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today the diaries and letters of these two soldiers are in the hands of their descendant, Fred
Goodwin of Nampa, Idaho. He lent them to me, and I
told the story of the Rhodes brothers, Eldad and Freedom, in <i>Our War</i>. The back-story of that chapter is <a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-hunt-after-story.html">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Together, the Edson-Rhodes papers follow the 5th New
Hampshire’s fortunes from its formation in Concord in 1861 through early 1863.
This includes the regiment’s role in Gen. George B. McClellan’s Peninsula
campaign – the trip by steamer to Fortress Monroe, the siege of Yorktown, the
building of the Grapevine Bridge over the Chickahominy River, the battle of
Fair Oaks and the Seven Days battles. Edson and Rhodes were both at Antietam,
of course, though not at Fredericksburg with the rest of the 5th. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have arranged the material chronologically. These posts
will not include every diary entry and the letters will be excerpted, but all
that is substantive is here. Without omitting the flavor of camp life or its
quotidian nature, I have cut repetitive material. I have added or fixed
punctuation in some cases for clarity but otherwise left the papers as the
Rhodes-Edson descendants transcribed them. I have written contextual material
and personal identifications where I thought them helpful, but my purpose is to
leave it to Edson and Rhodes to tell the story.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The account begins in Concord, New Hampshire’s capital, as
the 5th New Hampshire, 1,000-plus men strong, prepares to cross the Merrimack
River from its training camp on Concord Heights to downtown Concord. There they
will board a train south. Col. Cross, a hardcore Democrat, had thumbed his nose
at the Republican establishment by naming their first encampment Camp Jackson,
after Andrew Jackson.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>From Cutler Edson’s
diary:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sunday, Oct. 27</i>:
this has bin a very buisy day in camp. it has not seemed like Sunday. this
evening went in to the Chaplins* tent and had plenty of singing and he offered
prayer. it was realy reviving. probably the last that we shal here on this
encampment. I yet feel it good to trust in God.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[*Elijah R. Wilkins of Lisbon, N.H., was the 5th’s
chaplain.] <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Monday Oct. 28</i>: at
about 5 oc A.M. we left Camp Jackson for Concord Citty where we ware quartered
for the knight, Some in one place and some in another. it was my lot with about
20 others to be quartered in the mayors office in the citty hall where we had a
very comfortable place and got a very little sleep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tuesday Oct. 29</i>:
arose at 4 oc and made preparations for a start. every thing being put to
rights, we ware marched to the Depot where we ware comfortably seeted in the
cars and in the midst of Thousands of Spectators who wished us all success and
prosperity and asked the blessing of God upon us. it was one of the lovliest
mornings that ever dawned upon New England Shores. about ¼ before 8 we started
with all our luggage horses waggons and all in the whole making between 30 and
40 cars. the most of our boys were in good spirits but there ware some that
ware sorry they had enlisted. We went as far as Atkins point in Coneticut in the
cars where we took a steam boat and went threw long I. sound.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We pased N.Y. Citty to our right and landed at Jersey Citty
a little after sunris.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75qT72e_eKVVUXBVXmRTc6EhEjFTaCDCCXNRWXzDVtsnzRfHww_vJ7MWY0VX4R_CwNkGJKyC5LVYpoALjhUOCyRNHlLari_OilpEKKi3713awKNI24OqhQtCW7eYZTU_a2zMmwY3uxz8/s1600/cooper+shop+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75qT72e_eKVVUXBVXmRTc6EhEjFTaCDCCXNRWXzDVtsnzRfHww_vJ7MWY0VX4R_CwNkGJKyC5LVYpoALjhUOCyRNHlLari_OilpEKKi3713awKNI24OqhQtCW7eYZTU_a2zMmwY3uxz8/s1600/cooper+shop+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lithograph of the Cooper Shop in Philadelphia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Wednesday the 30</i>:
We left this place about 10 oc in the cars and arrived at Philidelphia about 6
where we had the grandest reseption that we rec’d in all our journey. They have
an institution here called the Cooper Shop institution* where they feed all the
soldiers that go threw here whether to or from the war. we were provided with
plenty of Bred cold meat pickels and coffee which we rec’d with thankfulness. I
never shal forget the kindness that we rec’d there and the sympathy they seamed
for us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we ware in the citty till about 12 oc befor we got our
luggage re-loaded and redy for a start and there ware thousands in the streats
at that late houre, men women and children bidding us Gods spead, the women
taking us by the hand and cautioning us to be carefull of our selves, and the
kisses we rec’d from little girls maid me think of those I left behind. the people
of Philidelphia seam to realise for what we have left our quiet homes and come
off down here.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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[*William M, Cooper, a Philadelphia merchant, conceived of
this friendly way-station for soldiers. It opened on May 26, 1861, at Cooper’s
storefront on Ostego Street. Its formal name was the Cooper Shop Volunteer
Refreshment Saloon. Cooper ran it throughout the war.] <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Thursday, Oct. 31</i>:
we got into Baltimore about 8 oc this morning. saw the bullet holes in the roof
of the Depot where the Mass Boys shot at the rebels when they pas threw.* there
is now a gard stationed in the depot to protect our troops and likewise there
is picket guards placed all along the rail rode from there to Washington and
troops also for our protection. We arrived at Bladensburg Md about dark, where
6 miles this side of Washington on the same ground where the NH 2nd were
drilled here.</div>
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we left the cars and marched on to the ground and commanded to
halt and make our selves comfortable as we could for the knight without any
supper with out any covering but the Blue sky and nothing beneath but the Cold
earth. but in this I complaned not for it was the best accomedations we could have under the circumstances.</div>
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we
found 3 Regiments stationed here, 1 from R.I., one from Michigan, 1 from
Wisconsin. the R.I. boys made us some coffee and gave us what Bread they had
left for there suppers which cheared us up and maid our boys feel more
recconciled to there lot. we then spred down our blankets and laid down for the
knight.<o:p></o:p></div>
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[*On April 19, 1861, in a skirmish with an antiwar,
pro-Southern mob, the 6th Massachusetts Volunteers lost four men killed, the
first casualties in hostile action of the Civil War. The incident became a
flashpoint for regiments passing through Baltimore.] <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i><a href="http://ourwarmikepride.blogspot.com/2015/08/2-making-camp-in-maryland-and-first.html">Next: Camp Casey</a> <o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
Mike Pridehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555611841701570103noreply@blogger.com0