Civil War Animals

Dear Readers,

Since college is out for Christmas break at the moment, I am spending time with my feline companions.  This has got me thinking about regimental mascots during the Civil War.  I read a very interesting article here that details many of the mascot stories from the Civil War.  Naturally, "Old Abe" the eagle is perhaps the best known, but there are many other stories out there.  Dogs seem to be the most common as they are, after all, man's best friend.  But there are others too.  I haven't seen anything about cats though, much to my dismay.

I have two questions for you today, Dear Readers.  1.  Who had the best mascot of the war?  2.  Does anyone know of any good stories about cats during the Civil War?

My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who lives with a hot redhead and the following feline friends:

Simon Diogenes Legree
George Armstrong Custer ("Autie")
Charles Dickens
Margaret Mitchell ("Maggie")
Bedford Forrest

Remember, as Mark Twain said "When a man loves cats, I am his friend and comrade without further introduction."

Fire Bells in the Night

Friends,

When I was eight years old or so, I was thumbing through a copy of Bruce Catton's The Civil War.  I believe it was published by American Heritage Press.  There was a Civil War timeline included in the appendices.  As I scanned through it, I came across the following entry for November 25, 1864: "Confederate agents try to burn New York City".  For some reason, that caught my eye, so much so that I put a star next to it.  And then I promptly forgot about it.

Fast forward several years (actually about two decades).  I again rediscovered the subject by virtue of research that I was doing on another topic.  Pardon the pun, but this rekindled the fire!  (He who would pun would also pick a pocket!)  I filled two notebooks while investigating this event with the idea towards writing a book about it.  But finally, someone beat me to it.  (See here.)  Not to be deterred, I had always thought this might translate better into a novel anyway.  For that matter, it would make one heck of a movie too!

Eight Confederate officers traveled from Canada to New York City full of promises that the Sons of Liberty (no, not the Revolutionary War ones) would rise up and help them take over the city on election day.  They promised that they had 20,000 armed men just waiting for the signal.  That signal would be a series of fires set by the Confederates at various points throughout the city.  Though hotels were the eventual target, the evidence suggests that the plot actually involved setting fires in other locations.

But the New York City authorities were ready.  They learned their lesson from the Draft Riots.  Certain measures were put in place to prevent any unrest and the "Sons of Liberty" backed out of the plot.  The Confederates decided to return to Canada but then they read stories in the paper about Sherman's March to the Sea.  Suddenly revenge became the motive.  They picked up "Greek Fire" from a chemist in Washington Square.  (Incidentally, the site of another famous fire.....the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory.)

On the night of November 25, the men set a series of fires in hotel rooms across Lower Manhattan.  The fire department promptly put them out with very little damage.  The newspapers the following morning had descriptions of all of the men, yet they managed to slip out of the city and made it back to Canada safely.  Later on, one of them, Robert Cobb Kennedy, was apprehended as he tried to cross back into the United States.  He was put on trial, convicted, and hanged on March 25, 1865.

I fear I have not done the topic justice here.  There is a lot more to it than what I have time to write.  One of the men, John Headley, wrote his memoirs "Confederate Operations in Canada and New York" which is available for a free download here.  It makes for some interesting reading, but take it with a grain of salt!  Also, the OR's contain a lot of information too.

One of these days, I'll finish the novel.

My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict.

War and Remembrance

Dear Readers,

I have reached the end of my first semester since I made the decision (or actually my back made the decision) to end my law enforcement career and return to the classroom.  To me, final exam week is always a melancholy experience.  You know, the first day of class is like a first date.  It can go really good or really bad.  (And is usually awkward!)  The last day of class feels like a break up, though not in a bad sense.  You get to know your students over several months and realize that most of them you won't see again.  That feeling always makes me a little sad.

This has got me thinking about what the end of the war must have felt like for the veterans.  Many of them spent as many as four years of their lives fighting alongside men who must have felt very much like brothers to them by the time it was all over.  They lost many of them along the way too both to combat and the ever present threat of disease.  And then one day it ended.  How did they part ways?  Was it as simple as a handshake and a "See you in hell"?  The fact that many of the companies were raised in certain geographic locations meant that they would perhaps see each other in civilian life sometimes.

But that raises another question.  How could someone who went on Pickett's Charge or fought at the Bloody Angle at Spotsylvania simply go home and farm again like nothing had ever happened?  Yet so many of them did.  After the war, the men on both sides formed veterans associations.  The Northern veterans and their Grand Army of the Republic proved to be a potent political force in the post-war world.  The United Confederate Veterans were important in their own right in the south.  My great-grandmother always talked about the UCV men that she knew as a child.  She said they were "fine old men".  Of course, when she knew them they were 40+ years removed from the war.  She told me once that those she knew were all very old and had the long white beard which it seems that many Confederate veterans adopted.  But she also said that you couldn't let their age fool you.  They were tough, very tough.  Their legs had carried them thousands of miles.  Their shoulders carried heavy burdens.  And their eyes had seen far too much.

One of my favorite songs from this period is "Long Ago" which you can listen to here.  I don't know all of the back story on this song, but I do know that it was written by a Civil War veteran.  I think it sums up the feelings of a lot of Confederate Veterans quite well.

And if I may end with some thoughts of a different kind.  To any of my students who may be reading today's blog post, I would like to say this.  It has been a long semester for us all.  I've been dealing with back pain, PTSD issues, and a crazy schedule.  You made it all worthwhile.  Over the past few months we've shared laughter and even the occasional tear.  Some of you have opened up to me about issues that you are facing and I have done the same.  I can honestly say that I feel that I am a better person for having gotten to meet all of you.  This semester I have had the best classes that I have ever had in all my years of being an adjunct.  Thank you for not only making that happen, but for also showing me what was important in life.  Remember that no matter what happens to you in life, I'll always be in your corner.

My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who has come to realize what my purpose in life truly is thanks to my students.

One of my Civil War Ancestors.

A "Fightin' Fool" of the 8th Ohio!

And a native son of Ireland!

Flags of Our (Great-Great-Grand) Fathers

Dear Readers,

I must confess that I was at a bit of a loss for the topic of today's post.  So I did what I normally do when I get a case of blogger's block, I turned to my little redhead for advice as to what to write about.  She suggested that I write a bit about flags during the Civil War.  I had to promise her that I would at least mention some of her ancestors in a favorable light in this post, so please look here for a picture of the regimental flags for the Ninth Illinois Infantry.  She had three ancestors who served in this regiment.  (Unlike the rest who avoided service entirely!)

Though Gods and Generals is far from being an Academy Award worthy movie, I must confess that I did really like the opening scene where we saw one battle flag after another.  The song in the background was also good.  The movie went steadily downhill from there.  The flags meant something to the soldiers.  They represented their regiment, brigade, or corps.  Units could be identified by their banners.  When speaking of Cleburne's Division flag, General Sherman is quoted as saying "That flag meant fight!"  (And he should know!)  Who among us would want to hold a position if we saw the green banner of the Irish Brigade moving towards us?  Or Hood's Texas Brigade?

The flags that my great-great-great grandfathers fought under were varied, as is the location and regiments of their service.  Most of them served under Polk's Corps (later Cheatham) in the Army of Tennessee.  As such, they had an easily identifiable Corps flag until the standardization of battle flags in the Army of Tennessee.  After that, only Cleburne's men were allowed to keep their own flag.

I, of course, also had ancestors who served in Cleburne's Division.  Their flag, like the above is distinctive.  Each regiment would, of course, add their unit and list the battles that they participated in if they so desired.

If we turn our attention to the Eastern Theater, I had some relatives in the 6th Louisiana.  Part of Hayes' "Fighting Tigers".  

And lest I be accused of Confederate bias, I would also like to mention my ancestors in the 8th Ohio Infantry.  Now how an Irish immigrant ended up in Ohio is beyond me, but he did nonetheless.  He and his brothers enlisted in the 8th Ohio at the beginning of the war.  They served in most of the battles in the Eastern Theater as part of the famed Gibraltar Brigade.  They assaulted Bloody Lane at Antietam, managed to outflank Pickett's Charge, and saw action in the Overland Campaign.  In fact, they reenlisted during the midst of that one!  So here too is their flag.

Citation

I think it would really be cool to one day have a room in my house decorated with all of the flags from the various regiments in which my ancestors served.  But I have two hurdles to overcome.  One is getting replicas of all of those flags.  The other is my little redhead.  But a man can dream, right?  As suggested in the comments, when I am ready to undertake this task, I just might visit the Alabama Flag Depot.  It looks like they do some very nice work!

My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict.

The Wilderness of War

Dear Readers,

For the last week or so I have been working my way through Gordon C. Rhea's series about the Overland Campaign.  I finished the first volume which is about the Battle of the Wilderness and have now turned to the second volume concerning Spotsylvania.  I'm not sure what drew my attention in that direction, other than the fact that I haven't read his series before.  When I teach about the Civil War, the last lecture day covers 1864-5 which includes those campaigns plus the March to the Sea, etc.  Maybe that is why.

You know, Grant's casualty rates in that campaign were staggering.  I can't help but thing that we would never allow a general today to lose soldiers at the rate that Grant did.  My how times have changed.  I guess it stirs up the old debate.  Was Grant a good general?  Yes, he lost large numbers of soldiers but he still bled Lee's Army dry.  Of course, the flip side to that is tactically, he seemed to follow a relatively simple plan, "Hey Diddle, Diddle, Straight Up the Middle!"

I have ancestors who fought on both sides during that campaign.  Let me rephrase, I have ancestors on the Confederate side and ancestors on the Union side.  They stayed loyal to their respective causes until the end. Unlike some of the ancestors of my little redhead who seemed to favor whichever side was winning at that particular moment.  My Union ancestors were not "Yankees" in the traditional sense of the word as they all hailed from the Emerald Isle, as did my other ancestors who wore the gray.  Still, they collided in some of the worse bloodletting this country has ever seen.

I often wonder what kept my Irish Confederate ancestors in the ranks at a time in which they had to have known that the cause was lost.  Before you tell me that slavery was why they stayed in the ranks so long, I would suggest that you look into the types of jobs available to the Irish in New Orleans at the time.  They left Ireland to escape English oppression only to end up fighting here in a hopeless war in the land of the "free".  Did they ever have second thoughts about why they came here?  I can only imagine that they stayed the course because of a combination of pride, comradeship, and the desire to not let their families down.  But who knows, really.  They arrived here with nothing and the war also left them with nothing.  (Other than a few of them that were nice enough to donate a limb or two to the Cause.)

My Irish-Union ancestors had their enlistments expire in the midst of the Overland Campaign.  They could have gone home!  But they chose to reenlist and see the war through to the end.  Plenty of other men did too.  Was that an endorsement of Grant's generalship or was that simply a desire to finish what they had started?  I wish I could say one way or the other with certainty, but I feel it was more the latter than the former.

Sorry to break slightly off topic, but here is my question for you, Dear Readers.  Was Grant a good general or simply a butcher who cared nothing for the lives of his soldiers?

My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who should be grading papers instead of writing blog posts.

Last Night I Had a Dream

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

The War's Defining Moment

Dear Readers,

When pondering the Civil War, as I often do in my spare time, my mind is drawn to certain events which I think define the war, or at least they do in my mind.  Among those topics which my mind seems drawn to are the Irish Brigade assaulting Marye's Heights, Stonewall Jackson standing, well, like a stone wall, Pickett's Charge (of course), George H. Thomas at Chickamauga, and the Peach Orchard at Shiloh.

Those are just a few.  The war was made up of moments like these, too numerous to count and too numerous to include in a simple blog post.  Since I am a historian of the Western Theater, the single event that sums up the war for me is the Confederate assault at Franklin, Tennessee on November 30, 1864.  Most of the men who made the attack were veterans.  They knew what happened to infantry who assaulted fixed positions, yet they went anyway.  This was a point where the Lost Cause really was, yet they went anyway.  Oh to be a witness to that gallant charge as they moved forward, flags flying, bands playing.  The Army of Tennessee marched into immortality, yet few but the serious Civil War student even know the truth of what happened on that fateful November afternoon.

That, dear readers, sums up the entire war in my mind, both the gallantry and the carnage.  So my question to you is this: What, if any, single event defines the war for you?

My name is Lee Hutch and I am a Civil War Addict who wishes all my readers a Happy Thanksgiving.