Friends,
Last night I had a dream.
When I looked to my left, I could see a long line of Confederate infantry stretching as far as I could see. When I looked to my right, it was the same. In front of us were what appeared to be a very strong line of Federal works. Our rifles were loaded, bayonets fixed. I heard a single cannon shot. Then we received the order to advance.
From somewhere behind, I heard the band playing. The sound seemed somewhat out of place. The strains of "Dixie" floated through the air. The only other sound was the steady tread of our feet. The earth shook with the sound of 20,000 footsteps. In front of us, there was nothing but open ground between us and the enemy. As we marched, scared animals darted in front of us towards the Yankees. Our battle lines were bathed in a sea of red as our flags marked the place of each under sized regiment making the attack.
So many were gone. The blood of our comrades stained dozens of fields from Shiloh to Chickamauga and from Perryville to Murfreesboro. Those of us who remained did so, not out of any dedication to a cause, but out of dedication to one another. Gone were the cheerful days in which we marched off to war, thinking one Southerner worth ten Yankees. Instead, we discovered that these Yankees could put up one hell of a fight. They had gotten the better of us on numerous days, but this day would be different.
The bands began to play "The Girl I Left Behind Me" as we continued to move forward. Perhaps that was a fitting song for the occasion. Given the strength of the Federal works, it looked as though lots of us would leave wives and sweethearts behind by the time the sun finally set. In front of us we could see the advance line of the Federal troops. They were in a precarious position, but we also knew what lay behind them.
The order was given to charge bayonets! The Rebel yelled sounded from thousands of throats as our line surged forward. As we did, the bands, their notes still audible over the sounds of the battlefield, began to play "The Bonnie Blue Flag." We were close enough to make out the faces of our Northern opponents. Many looked scared, uncertain as to what to do their officers yelling orders for them to hold fast. They leveled their rifles and then all hell exploded in our faces.
Today, Dear Readers, marks the 149th Anniversary of the Battle of Franklin. 20,000 men of the Army of Tennessee made that brave, ill advised, and oft forgotten charge on that beautiful November afternoon. Over 6,000 of them would be killed or wounded by the time the smoke cleared.
On this, the anniversary of the battle, let us never forget the brave men who made the charge, nor the equally brave men who opposed it.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict.
Postscript: My ancestors were with the following regiments in this fight:
1st Louisiana Infantry
10 Texas Cavalry (dismounted)
14th Texas Cavalry (dismounted)
33rd Alabama Infantry
24th Texas Cavalry (dismounted)
1st Tennessee Infantry
48th Tennessee Infantry
9th Tennessee Cavalry
19th Tennessee Cavalry
Showing posts with label ancestors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ancestors. Show all posts
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Monday, August 5, 2013
The Civil War in My Home
Friends,
My wife and I have our own Civil War, of sorts. Most of my ancestors wore the gray. The few that she has that served during the Civil War wore blue. Whenever I point out that I have far more ancestors that fought during the War than she did, she usually replies that it doesn't matter since her side won. I'm sure that getting picked on doesn't bother her. After all, she is from Missouri. And she is a Chiefs fan. However, three of her ancestors served in the 9th Illinois Infantry, and that is the subject of today's post.
Just as I had ancestors who came to this country on the eve of the War, so did my wife. They came from Germany, the Rhineland to be exact. Since she has red hair and still has a very German temperament, I have to be on my best behavior at all times. Anyway, when the war began, Ferdinand Cornman enlisted in the original 3 month regiment that would become the 9th Illinois Infantry. Once his original enlistment expired, he joined up again, this time bringing his brother Monroe with him. They were assigned to Company "I".
This is where the story gets strange. The 9th Illinois saw combat at Shiloh. Quite a bit of combat. Many of my ancestors also fought there. At one point, my ancestors in the 20th Tennessee were directly facing the 9th Illinois. My 3rd great-grandfather actually traded shots with hers! Naturally, mine drove hers from the field. But as she so often points out, they won the war. A year and a half ago, we visited Shiloh together to see this spot for ourselves. In my previous visits, I was single and so was only concerned with where my ancestors had been. We found where this mini Civil War took place. Think about it, if my ancestors (or hers) were better shots, one of us may not be here today.
I raided the bookstore at the park and purchased a really nice book entitled Eyewitness at the Battle of Shiloh. While reading through it, I found the following quote on page 40. It was given by W.J. McMurray of the 20th Tennessee. He said the following "The Twentieth Tennessee was following the Ninth Illinois so closely that they were on a portion of them before they could form. A little redheaded Irish boy from Company A and I captured a First Lieutenant and two privates at the second ravine." My 3rd great grandfather was in Company A. He was Irish born. And he had red hair. Talk about strange.
In 1862, the third Cornman brother, Horatio, enlisted. He finished the war as a Sergeant. Ferdinand, the first to answer the call to arms, was killed at Moalton, Alabama on March 21, 1864. Monroe survived the war. The 9th Illinois was a good unit with an excellent combat reputation. It does make me happy to be associated with them, even though it may be by marriage. Still, my ancestors drove hers from the field at Shiloh, regardless of the outcome of the war!
My name is Lee Hutch and I will be a dead Civil War Addict if my wife reads this post.
My wife and I have our own Civil War, of sorts. Most of my ancestors wore the gray. The few that she has that served during the Civil War wore blue. Whenever I point out that I have far more ancestors that fought during the War than she did, she usually replies that it doesn't matter since her side won. I'm sure that getting picked on doesn't bother her. After all, she is from Missouri. And she is a Chiefs fan. However, three of her ancestors served in the 9th Illinois Infantry, and that is the subject of today's post.
Just as I had ancestors who came to this country on the eve of the War, so did my wife. They came from Germany, the Rhineland to be exact. Since she has red hair and still has a very German temperament, I have to be on my best behavior at all times. Anyway, when the war began, Ferdinand Cornman enlisted in the original 3 month regiment that would become the 9th Illinois Infantry. Once his original enlistment expired, he joined up again, this time bringing his brother Monroe with him. They were assigned to Company "I".
This is where the story gets strange. The 9th Illinois saw combat at Shiloh. Quite a bit of combat. Many of my ancestors also fought there. At one point, my ancestors in the 20th Tennessee were directly facing the 9th Illinois. My 3rd great-grandfather actually traded shots with hers! Naturally, mine drove hers from the field. But as she so often points out, they won the war. A year and a half ago, we visited Shiloh together to see this spot for ourselves. In my previous visits, I was single and so was only concerned with where my ancestors had been. We found where this mini Civil War took place. Think about it, if my ancestors (or hers) were better shots, one of us may not be here today.
I raided the bookstore at the park and purchased a really nice book entitled Eyewitness at the Battle of Shiloh. While reading through it, I found the following quote on page 40. It was given by W.J. McMurray of the 20th Tennessee. He said the following "The Twentieth Tennessee was following the Ninth Illinois so closely that they were on a portion of them before they could form. A little redheaded Irish boy from Company A and I captured a First Lieutenant and two privates at the second ravine." My 3rd great grandfather was in Company A. He was Irish born. And he had red hair. Talk about strange.
In 1862, the third Cornman brother, Horatio, enlisted. He finished the war as a Sergeant. Ferdinand, the first to answer the call to arms, was killed at Moalton, Alabama on March 21, 1864. Monroe survived the war. The 9th Illinois was a good unit with an excellent combat reputation. It does make me happy to be associated with them, even though it may be by marriage. Still, my ancestors drove hers from the field at Shiloh, regardless of the outcome of the war!
My name is Lee Hutch and I will be a dead Civil War Addict if my wife reads this post.
Photo taken by the aforementioned redhead. Use at your own peril.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
From Huddled Masses to Heroes
Friends,
Two posts ago, I referenced some of my Irish ancestors. Really, all I have is Irish ancestors, so it is more of a matter of picking which once to reference at a given point. Anyway, since many of us come to an appreciation of the Civil War based on our ancestor's experiences, I thought that sharing some of my ancestors' stories might be an appropriate topic of today's post. If it turns out to be too lengthy, please forgive me in advance.
Let us travel back in time to the year 1845. I had relatives living in numerous Irish Counties. (Antrim, Galway, Clare, Wexford, Cork, Fermanagh, and Mayo) This post will focus on those leaving from Galway and Wexford. At that time, my family lived as tenant farmers, as did much of the Irish peasants. I hate to use that term since they weren't peasants prior to the occupation and exploitation of their country by a foreign government. Nonetheless, they were treated as second class citizens in their own country. Those in Galway were Irish speaking and unable to read and write. Those in Wexford spoke both Irish and English and had enough schooling to be able to write their names at least. Their lives were hard. But they carried on as their ancestors had done and their descendants, myself included, still do. Then disaster struck.
We now know that the blight that attacked the potato crops in Ireland probably originated in North America, an irony not lost on me. Some accounts from the west of Ireland say that they countryside was covered in a fog the night before the blight was first discovered in 1845. Since it is mentioned in several sources, it might very well be true, thought that had nothing to do with the blight itself. I can only imagine the horror experienced by my family when they found their crops had been ruined by this unknown enemy. The first year did not effect the entire crop in the whole country, and so there was enough left to carry on. And then it came again. And again. And again. Soon, starvation and disease ravaged the countryside. Scenes like the below were all too familiar
I don't know at what point my family decided to leave. I don't know for sure if it was an actual choice or if they were evicted. Regardless, they made their way down roads littered with corpses, sometimes witnessing starving dogs eating the human remains, only to book a passage on a ship that would turn out to be a almost as dangerous as remaining behind in Ireland. The Coffin Ships that they sailed on were not meant for comfort. In fact, some of the same ships that carried the Irish to America a few years before had carried slaves from Africa. And in similar conditions. My family would have spent most of their time below decks in truly disgusting conditions. Imagine people who were already weakened from the hunger or disease crammed into a small space that rocked back and forth constantly. They lived, ate, and slept in absolute filth. The space reeking of unwashed bodies, vomit, urine, feces, and above all, death. It was not abnormal for as many as a third of the passengers to die on this trip. It has been said by smarter people than I that if you could walk from Cork to New York City along the body of the Atlantic that you could so so without ever stepping on the ocean floor. You could just step from one Irish body to another the entire way.
These two branches of my family arrived in the United States but in two different locations. One ship landed in New Orleans and one in New York. My family who came in through New Orleans fared a little better than those who arrived in New York. Though they faced hardships, it was nowhere near as bad as what my family faced in New York. The following cartoon is just one of many. (And keep in mind this one was published in 1871!)
Two posts ago, I referenced some of my Irish ancestors. Really, all I have is Irish ancestors, so it is more of a matter of picking which once to reference at a given point. Anyway, since many of us come to an appreciation of the Civil War based on our ancestor's experiences, I thought that sharing some of my ancestors' stories might be an appropriate topic of today's post. If it turns out to be too lengthy, please forgive me in advance.
Let us travel back in time to the year 1845. I had relatives living in numerous Irish Counties. (Antrim, Galway, Clare, Wexford, Cork, Fermanagh, and Mayo) This post will focus on those leaving from Galway and Wexford. At that time, my family lived as tenant farmers, as did much of the Irish peasants. I hate to use that term since they weren't peasants prior to the occupation and exploitation of their country by a foreign government. Nonetheless, they were treated as second class citizens in their own country. Those in Galway were Irish speaking and unable to read and write. Those in Wexford spoke both Irish and English and had enough schooling to be able to write their names at least. Their lives were hard. But they carried on as their ancestors had done and their descendants, myself included, still do. Then disaster struck.
We now know that the blight that attacked the potato crops in Ireland probably originated in North America, an irony not lost on me. Some accounts from the west of Ireland say that they countryside was covered in a fog the night before the blight was first discovered in 1845. Since it is mentioned in several sources, it might very well be true, thought that had nothing to do with the blight itself. I can only imagine the horror experienced by my family when they found their crops had been ruined by this unknown enemy. The first year did not effect the entire crop in the whole country, and so there was enough left to carry on. And then it came again. And again. And again. Soon, starvation and disease ravaged the countryside. Scenes like the below were all too familiar
I don't know at what point my family decided to leave. I don't know for sure if it was an actual choice or if they were evicted. Regardless, they made their way down roads littered with corpses, sometimes witnessing starving dogs eating the human remains, only to book a passage on a ship that would turn out to be a almost as dangerous as remaining behind in Ireland. The Coffin Ships that they sailed on were not meant for comfort. In fact, some of the same ships that carried the Irish to America a few years before had carried slaves from Africa. And in similar conditions. My family would have spent most of their time below decks in truly disgusting conditions. Imagine people who were already weakened from the hunger or disease crammed into a small space that rocked back and forth constantly. They lived, ate, and slept in absolute filth. The space reeking of unwashed bodies, vomit, urine, feces, and above all, death. It was not abnormal for as many as a third of the passengers to die on this trip. It has been said by smarter people than I that if you could walk from Cork to New York City along the body of the Atlantic that you could so so without ever stepping on the ocean floor. You could just step from one Irish body to another the entire way.
These two branches of my family arrived in the United States but in two different locations. One ship landed in New Orleans and one in New York. My family who came in through New Orleans fared a little better than those who arrived in New York. Though they faced hardships, it was nowhere near as bad as what my family faced in New York. The following cartoon is just one of many. (And keep in mind this one was published in 1871!)
But when war came, they threw in their lot with their adopted part of the country. I really doubt the enlisted "for the cause" as it were. They didn't seem like that kind of people really. My great-grandmother told me once that the reason her grandfather enlisted was so that he could learn useful skills. (She knew him and that quote is directly from him.) I always wondered what that meant. He was a child when he came over with his family on the New Orleans trip. I later found at what. He was an active Fenian. His service saw him at all of the major battles in the Western Theater and he came through it all without a scratch. Talk about luck of the Irish! On the New York side, my third great grandfather, who also made the trip as a teenager, enlisted in the 160th New York Infantry and was killed in Louisiana. He is buried in the National Cemetery in Baton Rouge. He gave his life for a country that, at the time, scorned and ridiculed him in the manner of the cartoon above.
I don't know why I am making this lengthy post. I don't know if you are even still reading it at this point. My ancestors were tough, proud people. They fought against the English invaders of their country and they fought for their respective sides here in the United States as well. England tried to eradicate them from the face of the earth. The United States was less than welcoming. But they survived. And as a consequence, I am here today because of that strength. Allow me to close with a quote from the book Paddy's Lament by Thomas Gallagher. You will find it on page 295. When speaking of the perseverance of the Irish immigrant, he said the following "But whatever name he goes by now.....he will forever, with his battered high hat, ragged swallow-tailed coat, dangling breeches, and bare feet, haunt not only Irish memory, but also the halls and chambers of Westminster Palace, where Parliament tried for so long, without success, to do him in."
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who only hopes that I can live in a manner to bring honor to my ancestors.
Monday, July 29, 2013
A Night With My Ancestors
Friends,
As many of you know, I struggle with degenerative disc disease. It isn't really a disease and it is only partially degenerative, but that is what "they" chose to name it nonetheless. A couple of nights ago I was in a lot of pain.....a LOT of pain. I wasn't able to sleep. Luckily I have books for those times. I recently ordered a copy of Galway Bay by Mary Pat Kelly. I decided to read it, as it wasn't like I was going to be able to sleep. As I read those pages, my pain faded into the background and I became engrossed in the story. It is a novel, based on the family experiences of the author. It follows a fairly typical Irish family in Galway from the horrors of the Great Hunger (I refuse to call it a famine!) to the streets of Chicago and then on to the battlefields of the Civil War.
Yes, it is the story of her family. But in a way, it is also the story of mine. My ancestors also fled the disease and starvation in their native land, which they loved as only an Irishman could. They threw in their lot with their respective states when the Civil War began. Some fought for the North and some fought for the South. The simple fact that the coffin ship that left on Tuesday landed in New York and the one that left on Wednesday landed in New Orleans dictated the side they fought on. Their blood, spilled on numerous battlefields throughout our land, paid the price for our acceptance into society.
As I read the book, I felt the presence of my ancestors standing guard over me, telling me that if they could handle centuries of oppression, then I could handle chronic pain. They have a point. My 8th great-grandfather was "Silken" Thomas Fitzgerald who was hanged, drawn, and quartered on orders from Henry VIII for rebelling against English rule in Ireland. What's a little back pain compared to having your intestines pulled out while you are still alive? But in all seriousness, I felt them with me as I read a story that could have very well been their own.
I am proud to be an American. I am prouder still to be an Irish-American. And I am prouder yet that my Irish ancestors fought so willingly and valiantly for their adopted country. Their spirit lives on in me, my brother, and our sons. It is fashionable now to be "Irish". But my family has always been Irish and not just on St. Patrick's Day. It is both a blessing and a curse.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who would like to say
FAUGH A BALLAGH!
As many of you know, I struggle with degenerative disc disease. It isn't really a disease and it is only partially degenerative, but that is what "they" chose to name it nonetheless. A couple of nights ago I was in a lot of pain.....a LOT of pain. I wasn't able to sleep. Luckily I have books for those times. I recently ordered a copy of Galway Bay by Mary Pat Kelly. I decided to read it, as it wasn't like I was going to be able to sleep. As I read those pages, my pain faded into the background and I became engrossed in the story. It is a novel, based on the family experiences of the author. It follows a fairly typical Irish family in Galway from the horrors of the Great Hunger (I refuse to call it a famine!) to the streets of Chicago and then on to the battlefields of the Civil War.
Yes, it is the story of her family. But in a way, it is also the story of mine. My ancestors also fled the disease and starvation in their native land, which they loved as only an Irishman could. They threw in their lot with their respective states when the Civil War began. Some fought for the North and some fought for the South. The simple fact that the coffin ship that left on Tuesday landed in New York and the one that left on Wednesday landed in New Orleans dictated the side they fought on. Their blood, spilled on numerous battlefields throughout our land, paid the price for our acceptance into society.
As I read the book, I felt the presence of my ancestors standing guard over me, telling me that if they could handle centuries of oppression, then I could handle chronic pain. They have a point. My 8th great-grandfather was "Silken" Thomas Fitzgerald who was hanged, drawn, and quartered on orders from Henry VIII for rebelling against English rule in Ireland. What's a little back pain compared to having your intestines pulled out while you are still alive? But in all seriousness, I felt them with me as I read a story that could have very well been their own.
I am proud to be an American. I am prouder still to be an Irish-American. And I am prouder yet that my Irish ancestors fought so willingly and valiantly for their adopted country. Their spirit lives on in me, my brother, and our sons. It is fashionable now to be "Irish". But my family has always been Irish and not just on St. Patrick's Day. It is both a blessing and a curse.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who would like to say
Thursday, April 18, 2013
First Tennessee Infantry
As part of my blog, I will profile units in which my ancestors served. I will trade off between Confederate and Federal units. I'll begin with the famed First Tennessee Infantry. Many people may be familiar with them because of the wonderful memoir written by Sam Watkins. He served in Company H. My ancestors served primarily in Company G, also raised in Maury County.
Without getting bogged down in details, the 1st Tennessee fought at Shiloh, Perryville, Stones River, Chickamauga, Chattanooga, Franklin, Nashville, and Bentonville. They were fearless on the attack and tenacious on the defense. The men of the 1st Tennessee stayed the course until the bitter end.
I am related by blood or marriage to the following:
Morgan Fitzgerald
Haywood Taylor
Henderson Vestal (killed at Perryville)
John L. Jacobs
There are even folks in England that reenact as members of the 1st Tennessee. That is pretty cool.
My next regimental post will discuss the "Fightin' Fools" of the 8th Ohio Infantry.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War addict.
Without getting bogged down in details, the 1st Tennessee fought at Shiloh, Perryville, Stones River, Chickamauga, Chattanooga, Franklin, Nashville, and Bentonville. They were fearless on the attack and tenacious on the defense. The men of the 1st Tennessee stayed the course until the bitter end.
I am related by blood or marriage to the following:
Morgan Fitzgerald
Haywood Taylor
Henderson Vestal (killed at Perryville)
John L. Jacobs
There are even folks in England that reenact as members of the 1st Tennessee. That is pretty cool.
My next regimental post will discuss the "Fightin' Fools" of the 8th Ohio Infantry.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War addict.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
In Honor of My Ancestors
I would like to list the regiments in which my ancestors served. Note that both sides are represented. In the future I will talk more about some of their individual stories, but in the meantime, here is the list.
Confederate
33rd Alabama Infantry
43rd Alabama Infantry
4th Alabama Cavalry
11th Arkansas Infantry
4th Louisiana Infantry
6th Louisiana Infantry
1st Tennessee Infantry
2nd Tennessee Infantry
20th Tennessee Infantry
24th Tennessee Infantry
48th Tennessee Infantry
1st Tennessee Cavalry
9th Tennessee Cavalry
11th Tennessee Cavalry
19th Tennessee Cavalry
22nd Tennessee Cavalry
Sparkman's Light Artillery (aka Maury Artillery, TN)
11th Texas Cavalry
13th Texas Cavalry
14th Texas Cavalry
36th Texas Cavalry
37th Texas Cavalry
4th Texas Infantry
Union
7th Illinois Infantry
8th Ohio Infantry
160th New York Infantry
98th New York National Guard
Brave men, all.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict.
Confederate
33rd Alabama Infantry
43rd Alabama Infantry
4th Alabama Cavalry
11th Arkansas Infantry
4th Louisiana Infantry
6th Louisiana Infantry
1st Tennessee Infantry
2nd Tennessee Infantry
20th Tennessee Infantry
24th Tennessee Infantry
48th Tennessee Infantry
1st Tennessee Cavalry
9th Tennessee Cavalry
11th Tennessee Cavalry
19th Tennessee Cavalry
22nd Tennessee Cavalry
Sparkman's Light Artillery (aka Maury Artillery, TN)
11th Texas Cavalry
13th Texas Cavalry
14th Texas Cavalry
36th Texas Cavalry
37th Texas Cavalry
4th Texas Infantry
Union
7th Illinois Infantry
8th Ohio Infantry
160th New York Infantry
98th New York National Guard
Brave men, all.
My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict.
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