The Road to Cold Harbor

Over the past few months I've spent quite a bit of my spare time turning my master's thesis into a journal article for publication. My thesis, Love at War: The Civil War Courtship of John L. Hoster and Josephine Cole, explores the impact that the Civil War had on courtship rituals by utilizing primary sources related to Sergeant John L. Hoster of the 148th New York and his future wife, Josephine Cole. In completing this project, I rediscovered how amazing it was to work with such a rich trove of primary source documents. While my thesis focuses particularly on the story of John and Josie's courtship, there are many other incredible aspects of John's story that I was only able to reference briefly, if at all.

As I picked up these sources again, I realized that these stories were ripe for exploring here on the blog. So over the next few months I plan to put together a few posts on John Hoster's wartime story. I hope you will excuse the diversion from Gettysburg.
--------------

A bit of background first. John L. Hoster was born on July 15, 1842 in Canoga, New York, a small Finger Lakes village. The 1860 Census lists John as a farm laborer living on his father's farm. In the summer of 1862 John enlisted in the 148th New York, and was elected to serve as a sergeant of Company A, which was recruited primarily from Seneca Falls, Geneva, Fayette, and Canoga.

The 148th left New York in September and was sent to Virginia, where it served around Suffolk and Norfolk in the Department of Virginia. After avoiding combat for much of its early service, in the spring of 1864 the 148th took part in Maj. Gen. Benjamin Butler's campaign against Richmond and Petersburg as part of the 2nd Brigade, 2nd Division, 18th Corps, Army of the James. The unit saw action at Swift creek, Proctor's creek, Drewry's bluff and Bermuda Hundred. The campaign stalled however, as Butler's forces got "bottled up" between the James and Appomattox Rivers. With the Army of the James safe from attack but unable to make further progress, Grant looked to detach troops to send north of the James River to join with the Army of the Potomac in its bloody campaign against the Army of Northern Virginia.

The 18th Corps, commanded by William F. "Baldy" Smith, received orders to join Grant. To do so Smith's 17,000 soldiers would board transports and steam down the James River, round the tip of the Peninsula, and steam up the York and Pamunkey Rivers to White House Landing. Here his troops would disembark and travel the rest of the way overland to link up with the Army of the Potomac east of Richmond. The movement would begin on May 27th.

Throughout the war Sergeant John L. Hoster kept a diary, which he filled with daily entries. His diaries now reside in the Special Collections of the New York State Historical Association here in Cooperstown. Here's what John recorded of the movement to reinforce the Army of the Potomac:

Friday, May 27th
Warm. Received orders at 11 A.M. to be ready to march in half an hour with camp and garrison equipage. We left at 3 P.M. Our knapsacks were not carried for us as was first intended. We moved about 2 miles to the right and some to the rear, where we halted and encamped for the night. I pitched my tent with [John C.] Appleby and [Melvin] Tubbs. There is some prospect of a peaceful night. Appearance of rain this evening.

Saturday, May 28th
Very warm. Reveille about 4:30 this A.M. We had some applesauce for breakfast which I stewed last evening. I put some pockets in my jacket this forenoon. Received a letter from mother and one from Louisa. Potatoe soup for dinner. Fell in line at 2 P.M. I did not go out. Inspection at 4 P.M. I took [Peter] Muldoon's gun out, mine not being very bright. Each Company Commander inspected his own Company. Lt. Van [Lieutenant Cortland Van Rensselaer] is in Command, Capt. [Robert C.] Daly in Corps Hospital. At five o'clock we received orders to be ready to march at 6:15 P.M. Sergeant [Frederick S.] Gibbs drew 4 days rations of hardtack, but received an order from the Col. [George Murray Guion] not to issue but two. We had no sooner returned two days rations when we received another order to issue the whole. They could not be found in time to issue and failing to get transportation, they were left. Left camp at 6:15 - crossed Appomattox on pontoon bridge - marched to within one mile of point and halted for the night. Rained during the march.

Sunday, May 29th
Cool. Arose at 3:30. Resumed march before I could make coffee. Arrived at point at 5 A.M. Beautiful place, negroes doing duty. Embarked on "Thos. A. Morgan" river boat from Yorktown to Old Point and left soon after, proceeding down the river. Gen. [John H.] Martindale in command of Division, Arthur S. Baker from Seneca Falls and Capt.[Alexander] Gilchrist [Jr.] in his staff. I made some coffee for Appleby and me with three pieces of candle I found on the deck. At one o'clock we rounded to and proceeded up the river to the rescue of a transport that had run aground. Succor had been received from other vessels and we proceeded again on our downstream trip, arriving at Ft. Monroe at 3:30 P.M. Appleby made some coffee about 5 o'clock and we had a fine meal on hardtack. Left Ft. Monroe at 6:30 P.M. proceeding up the York River enroute to West Point, laying off at Ft. Monroe just long enough to get provision for the boat. Arrived at Yorktown at 10 o'clock, stopped long enough for the officers to go ashore. 2 A.M. found us anchored off West Point.

"Maj Gen Smith's Expedition disembarks at the White House," sketch by William Waud, May 30, 1864. Library of Congress.

Monday, May 30th
Warm and pleasant. Arose at daylight this morning. Part of the infantry and a portion of the cavalry landed. 6:30 A.M. again found us underway enroute for the White House. Appleby made a good cup of coffee after we started. Officers have good living inside. Truly shoulder straps are trump here. Arrived at White House at 2 P.M. Railroad bridge crosses Pamunky to the James. Saw several white citizens on the shore, both men and women, who waved their hands as we passed. Formed a line after landing and stacked arms and permission was given to make coffee. Indications of the presence of a large cavalry force here not long since, undoubtedly Sheridans. After sundown we moved a short distance to the left across the railroad, formed in column by Divisions and those who felt disposed pitched their tents. Appleby, Tubbs and I pitched ours together. 

Tuesday, May 31st
Very warm. Reveille roused us out this morning some after daylight. After breakfast I wrote a letter to mother, but was obliged to be brief partly because the Chaplain [Ferris Scott] wanted to go with the mail and partly because I learned that we were to get ready to march immediately. We lounged around all forenoon. Transports are continually arriving loaded with troops. We took our knapsacks down and stacked them near a clump of trees. After dinner Jack Rumsey issued an order for sugar and I furnished the money. Crushed loaf at 23cts. a pound. At 1 P.M. Sergeant Gibbs with a squad drew two days rations of hard bread, 4 of salt pork and five of sugar and coffee. We are to carry nothing but our rubber blankets and shelter tents. Occasional firing to the left. General Smith is with us. Left camp this afternoon at 3 P.M., proceeded up the railroad some distance, then striking the main road. The 8th Maine is with our brigade. Our regt. is on the left. We have but little artillery with us. Near dark we came across some of Grant's pickets. At 11 o'clock our regt. halted for the night. About 100 men are going on picket. We lay just in rear of the picket line. The day has been very warm.

 As Sergeant Hoster and his comrades waited through the heat of the day for orders to move out on May 31st, Maj. Gen. Smith awaited for his wagons and reserve ammunition train to arrive at White House. He also sought to clarify his instructions from General Grant, having not heard anything since receiving orders dated May 28th. As the hours passed, Smith began to change his mind, and determined to set out that afternoon without his supply and ammunition trains. Little did Hoster know that afternoon that he and the 148th were setting out toward one of the war's bloodiest one-sided engagements.
 

A Small Protest Outside Gettysburg's Cyclorama

The Cyclorama. Photo taken by the author on 2/23/2013.

This past Sunday, about a dozen or so protestors gathered outside of the Cyclorama building to voice their continued objection to its demolition. Meanwhile, the process of asbestos abatement, which is necessary before the building can be demolished, has already begun.

The building was built in 1962 as part of the national Mission 66 initiative to opened visitor centers in parks across the country in recognition of the Park Service's 50th birthday. Though it served its original purpose as the park's main visitor center only briefly, the building continued to house the famous cyclorama painting by the French artist Paul Philippoteaux until 2008.

Contentious debate has surrounded the decision to tear down the Cyclorama building, which has been a part of the Park Service's plans since 1999. The Park would like to rehabilitate the landscape to its commemorative-era appearance. Dion Neutra, the son of the building's designer Richard Neutra, has led the fight to preserve his father's work - arguing that the building should become a museum dedicated to Abraham Lincoln and the legacy of the Gettysburg Address. In an article in The Evening Sun Neutra claimed that he has collected a petition with about 4,300 signatures.

Personally, I continue to sit on the fence on this controversy. On the one hand - I understand much of the Park Service's rationale for destroying the building. I also have witnessed in other areas of the battlefield some of the interpretive benefits that can be gained through a rehabilitation of historic landscapes and view sheds. 

On the other hand, history has many layers - and while the Park exists to tell the story of the battle of Gettysburg, I find it a bit dangerous when we begin to decide that one piece of history is more important than another. What's more - I also feel that the Cyclorama in a way has become a part of the history of the battle, as it is part of the history of how we have interpreted the battle. The story of Gettysburg's commemoration and interpretation is one of the layers of history that I find so unique and fascinating about the battlefield.

In the end, I guess I'd have to side with tearing the building down, if only because there seems to be no other options left. The Park Service is unfortunately not blessed with unlimited money, and the renovation and upkeep costs on the building would seem a wasted expense with the new museum and visitor's center already in place just down the road. The building has already begun to decay from neglect, and I fear over time it will become more of an eyesore.

One thing about this whole affair that I have noticed disturbs me though. In the past few weeks and months, after the final decision was handed down - I've seen many posts, comments and emails on Civil War and Gettysburg-related blogs, websites, and listservs that seemed overtly gleeful over the Cyclorama's downfall. While I understand the arguments for tearing the building down, and agree with some of them, I found this enthusiasm for the building's destruction strange.

This building was not some tourist trap monstrosity (see: National Tower). It was built by the Park Service itself to interpret the Battle of Gettysburg. Perhaps it has lived its purpose, and it is time for its demise. But to celebrate its demise with zeal, and to demonize those who fight to save the Cyclorama, seems strange to me, especially from a community that is often on the losing end of preservation fights.

Traveling Lincoln Exhibit Comes to Gettysburg College

This past Friday my alma mater's Musselman Library opened up a traveling show entitled "Lincoln: The Constitution and the Civil War." The exhibition examines how our sixteenth president utilized the Constitution to confront secession, slavery, and war-time civil liberties. The show was created by the National Constitution Center and the American Library Association Programs Office, and received major funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities.

To go along with the exhibition, and to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the Civil War, the library has also organized a number of events, programs, and smaller exhibits that it will host this coming spring.

Here is Gettysburg College's press release about "Lincoln: The Constitution and the Civil War." And here is a list of other programs and events happening this spring. I will be in Gettysburg a couple of times in March, so I hope to see the exhibit and provide some thoughts here on the blog.

The Downfall of Colonel Sumwalt

Back in 2012 I wrote a few entries focused on the 138th Pennsylvania. Two companies - B and G - of this regiment were recruited from Adams County. My first post focused on the recruiting of the 138th, and the second introduced some of the Adams County faces in the regiment. Today, I thought I would continue my series on the 138th by exploring the fascinating story of the downfall of the regiment's first Colonel, Charles L. K. Sumwalt.

Excerpt from J. Howard' Wert's 1907 article in the Star and Sentinel entitled "Old Time Notes of Adams County."

Writing on March 6th, 1907, Gettysburg resident J. Howard Wert recalled that Sumwalt was perhaps "one of the most unique characters that was ever projected into the activities and history of Adams county." Born in Baltimore in 1839, in his youth Charles Sumwalt apparently experienced a wayward life, and developed a poor reputation for morality. Sometime before the war, however, Sumwalt escaped Baltimore, wandered westward, and eventually ended up in Chicago. Here he became a member of Elmer Ellsworth's famous Chicago Zouaves. Sumwalt became fairly proficient in the zouave drill, a skill that would leave him in high demand when crisis erupted in 1861.

During his westward wanderings, Sumwalt also apparently straightened out his life, and felt called to become a Methodist minister. The outbreak of the Civil War found Sumwalt back on the East Coast as an itinerant minister on the Gettysburg circuit.

After the Sumter crisis several military units began to form in Gettysburg - David McConaughy's Adams Rifles, John F. McCreary's College Guards--consisting of Pennsylvania College students--and the Gettysburg Zouaves, an organization trained in the zouave drill by Sumwalt.

Zouave tactics became quite the fad that spring and summer of 1861, and in Gettysburg Sumwalt received a fair bit of adoration for his military experience. He and his company were praised at public ceremonies, including Gettysburg's Fourth of July Celebration that year. And yet, as others signed up and went to war, and as the state and federal government searched for any individuals with even a hint of military training to serve as officers, Sumwalt stayed behind. Wert, who claimed to have been more personally acquainted with Sumwalt than most of Gettysburg's residents, attempted to explain in his 1907 article:

This is what I learned of Rev. Charles L.K. Sumwalt. In personal courage, where physical danger was to be met, no man surpassed him and few equaled him. His moral courage was not on as high a ground, and bitterly was he aware of the fact. His will power was near the zero mark, and no man knew that so well as did Charles L.K. Sumwalt.

Initially, Sumwalt resisted the urge to sign up for the war, and instead continued his preaching. However, in the summer of 1862, opportunity came knocking at the door again. At Camp Curtin in Harrisburg the 138th Pennsylvania, including two Adams County companies, had been fully organized and yet had no obvious candidate for the Colonelcy. Regimental historian Osceola Lewis recalled:

The organization of the regiment being completed, it became necessary for it to have a responsible head, and soon the company officers were bustling about in search of a commander. Unlike most regiments, it had no embryotic Colonel whose "eagles" were fluttering in prospect before the muster-in rolls were filled; and the company commanders evidently being very modest and unambitious, not one of them showed aspiration to a higher position at that time.

However, the Adams county officers, being especially energetic, managed to secure a candidate, and presented him with many recommendations to their "brothers in shoulder-straps."

The first and chief reason given why he should be well qualified for the command of a regiment was that he was a "Minister of the Gospel" and a man of fine attainments.

Then also, he had experience in military matters, or, in other words, he drilled a volunteer company in the "Zouave Manual," and to do that he must be "posted in tactics."

His intellectual ability was great, his personal appearance imposing, and the officers of the newly formed 138th thought him to be "just the man."

In Gettysburg, the news of Sumwalt's acceptance of the Colonelcy of the 138th was greeted with great joy. "He possesses capital qualifications," the Compiler reported on September 1, "and the boys...may congratulate themselves on having so gallant a leader."

Unfortunately, the high esteem felt toward Sumwalt would not last. Upon leaving Camp Curtin, the 138th moved to Relay House - an important junction on the B&O Railroad, not far from Baltimore. Here the 138th would stay defending the railroad for the foreseeable future, and here Charles Sumwalt would become reacquainted with many of the ill influences and bad habits of his days in Baltimore.

As regimental historian Lewis recalled in 1866, Sumwalt "proved to be a wolf arrayed in sheep's clothing." At first, Colonel Sumwalt demanded the strictest discipline from his men. But soon, as the boredom of guard duty set in, Sumwalt removed his headquarters to the hotel at Relay House, and sunk into alcoholism and debauchery. Wert painted a picture for readers in 1907:

Over the wild orgies that glowed at the regimental headquarters let us draw the veil. There were escapades innumerable, and each more startling, more nerve thrilling than its predecessor. At midnight, of a night of storm, as the colonel would emerge from his tent, flushed with the debauch of the evening, he would order the entire regiment over miles of roads and fields in search of imaginary Rebels; and when the men would at length pause on the brink of a beetling precipice, the colonel, with sword waving high in the air, would urge his steed at breakneck speed, over the single foot plank that extended across the sleepers of a railroad bridge with a torrent thundering at a dizzy distance below; whilst his men were chilled with horror, believing each moment would be his last.

At first, only whispers of Sumwalt's conduct reached the homefront, such was the respect the men had for their Colonel. But soon word got out. Sumwalt's engagement to one of the leading young ladies of York Springs fell apart. He very soon thereafter married a women from Baltimore.

The military caught up with Sumwalt eventually, and he was summoned before a military court and convicted of conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, as well as conduct prejudicial to good order and military discipline. On March 30th, 1863, Sumwalt was dismissed from the military service of the United States, and forever barred from holding an officer's commission.

The humiliated officer continued to sink into darkness. Though dismissed from the service, he remained for a time in the environs of his old regiment. On May 28, 1863, a member of the regiment wrote a sad account to Gettysburg's Star and Banner. Following the news of the death of Stonewall Jackson earlier in the month, Sumwalt had appeared in front of the men of Company B wearing a crape in mourning of the Confederate general. Told to take it off, Sumwalt dared his former soldiers to remove it themselves. "This," the paper reported, "was done in double quick time, and before this rebel was aware of it there was a guard over him." The former Colonel was imprisoned until he took an oath of allegiance. The paper did not report whether alcohol may have played a role in the incident.

Incredibly, Charles L.K. Sumwalt's military service did not end with his disgraceful dismissal. In March of 1864 Sumwalt enlisted as a private in Company K of the 1st Maryland Cavalry, Potomac Home Brigade (Cole's Cavalry), and became a sergeant. He mustered out with the command at Harper's Ferry in June of 1865.

I don't know much about Sumwalt's postwar life. I could not locate Charles in any postwar census records on ancestry.com, though Baltimore City Directories in the 1870s listed his occupation as a plasterer. In 1891, his widow Emily J. Sumwalt filed for a pension - giving us some idea of when he may have passed away.

The story of Sumwalt's rise to military prominence, and fall to disgrace, is perhaps one of the more fascinating if lesser known stories of the Gettysburg community during the Civil War.

The Low Point of Northern Morale

A few days ago I asked a few questions based upon the Gary Gallagher lecture series I have been working my way through for the last few months, and I thought I would attempt to answer them from my point of view. The questions centered around the summer of 1864, and whether that period represented a low point of Northern morale:

1. Do you believe the Northern people should have been so pessimistic in July and August?

2. Should the Atlanta Campaign outrank Gettysburg in terms of its influence on the course of the war?

To these questions, I would add my own: what period was the darkest of the war for the Northern people?

While my own Civil War interests have long featured a strong focus on the Gettysburg Battlefield, I do agree in this case that Gettysburg's claim as a major turning point of the war is often overstated. I believe we can trace much of Gettysburg's status as the preeminent moment of the war to the battlefield's postwar development as a shrine to Union victory, and eventually as a shrine to the Lost Cause.

Furthermore, while serious students of the war know better, I often find that the popular image among those with a passing or casual interest is that after Gettysburg the war in 1864/65 was one slow retreat to inevitable defeat for the Confederate cause. Perhaps my impressions are mistaken.

Gettysburg's long standing claim as the turning point of the war casts a long shadow in public memory over the darkest days of the war - the summer of 1864, and the campaigns in Georgia and Virginia that ultimately put the Union cause on the track to victory. I recently decided to dig around a bit in Gettysburg's newspapers from August of 1864 to see just how pessimistic war coverage got in this town that would later come to be seen as the war's turning point. This can always be a bit dangerous due to the clouds of partisanship, especially in an election year, so I tried to locate some good examples of coverage of the war effort in both Gettysburg's Democratic and Republican newspapers.

That August, The Compiler sought to remind its readers of all the disasters that had befallen the country under Lincoln's leadership, and openly asked questions about whether the north could ever hope to win the war. On August 29, 1864, the paper published the following:

- Colonel Moorehead's regiment of Pennsylvania volunteers recently returned home, their time having expired. The regiment went out over one thousand strong and comes back with sixty-four men and eight officers. Where are the balance? Let the grave answer.
- Lincoln has issued three proclamations for conscription since the first of January, calling for a million men. At this rate we shall have to give almost another million before the year closes.
- Mr. Lincoln in an interview with Senator Mallory, at the commencement of the war, said if he should discover that there was no Union sentiment in the South, then "this war is not only an error, it is a crime." He has evidently discovered that if ever that sentiment existed, it is effectually eradicated now--what, therefore, must be his humble opinion of himself for carrying on a war that is "not only an error, but a crime." What sayest thou, Abraham?

The Change.--In 1860 we were told to vote for Lincoln and a change. Cotton was then ten cents a pound. The people voted for Lincoln and the "change." Cotton is now $1.64 a pound. That is, it requires a great deal of "change" now to buy anything.

Just So. -- The other day we met an old man from the country who told us that in 1860 he was told that if he would vote for Lincoln the times would get much better, and that he and his boys would have "money enough." He says it really turned out so, for several of his boys had just "money enough" to get out of the draft! Now they are as poor or poorer than they were three years ago!

The Compiler went on to predict Lincoln's imminent downfall in the fall, and to report the latest war news. It told its readers that Grant had suffered repulses on both sides of the James River. Of Sherman's campaign against Atlanta - the paper reported:

Sherman seems to have given up any further attempts to either reach the Macon Railroad or to get into Atlanta. His troops are idle, and remain in their works without risking any contests. The correspondents of the newspapers are despondent. Many have left the camp. 

 The following day - the Republican Sentinel spent much of its ink urging readers to cease their unrest about the war and to recommit to the cause. The paper's second page led with an article reprinted from The Presbyterian:

UNREASONABLE MURMURS
Why complain of your burdens? Suppose it to be true, even to the extent which the exaggerators make it, that the war has imposed upon us heavy taxes, and rendered the strictest economy necessary to meet the enhanced prices of every article which we have to buy, have we any reasonable ground of complaint? There is no substantial good obtained without exertion and self denial, and no class of men is exempt from labor if they expect to thrive in their callings. Strength, health, time, money are severely taxed by those who expect to succeed in their various handicrafts. Why, then, should we shrink from the burden when some great political evil is to be averted, or some signal national good is to be achieved? We are constituent parts of the nation, with which our prosperity and life are bound up; and it cannot suffer or triumph without our participating in its fate. So thought our revolutionary fathers who freely expended their precious blood and treasure, that they might enjoy the blessings of a free government, and transmit this blessing to their prosperity. We, so far from blaming, applaud their sacrifice, and fully believe that the end achieved was worthy of the cost. Now, it has become our turn to struggle, after their example, for national life. An unholy war has been thrust upon us, and as to the evils which it brings in its train we are compelled to encounter and overcome them to the best of our ability. The war is a stupendous one, and the cost of it is enormous; and why should not every citizen, who appreciates the benefits of a good government, be willing to bear his share of the burden? The sacrifice, severe as it may be, it is hoped, will be but temporary. We are passing through the stages of a dangerous illness, and why should we complain of the remedies because they are not palatable? It should be well considered, what would have been our inevitable fate, had we submitted to the demands of the rebellious without resistance. We should have a shattered and disjointed government, and such a dismemberment of our confederacy, as would have forever precluded the possibility of future stability and peace. Had Southern insolence been permitted to dominate and dictate, there would have been no nationality. The unity of the North would have been broken and wasting wars would have been our future history. In such an event, how inconceivably greater would have been our sacrifice, than those we are now called to make! It would have been a permanent and hopeless tax upon our property, our comforts and our lives; and the history of past prosperity would never have been repeated. If we love our nation--if we condemn its violators--if we cherish our dearest rights and privileges, we should cease to murmur that we have to pay for security. We are involved in a frightful war with those who would be our tyrannical and cruel masters, and the only alternative is a base submission or a continued and successful opposition. Precious blood has been shed, untold treasure expended; and if more blood and treasure are required, let them be freely offered to our country's, as well as an abandonment of the country itself, in all that has hitherto rendered it illustrious. We repeat, then, that until the rebels have laid down their arms, and renewed their allegiance to the government, it is the duty of all citizens to sustain, in all lawful ways and at every sacrifice, the cause of law, liberty and human rights, in which we are now engaged.

Much of the rest of the sheet focused on similar themes. The Sentinel warned its readers about the tricks of Copperheads and outlined why an immediate cessation of hostilities to negotiate peace and reunification would lead to disaster and separation. It also outlined the Democratic ticket for the fall elections in Adams County, and noted rather dejectedly: "If men sailing under such colors can receive a majority in Adams, we can only now say we regret it. We feel it a duty to use our feeble efforts to oppose them."

A look at these two papers in August of 1864 makes one thing clear: the central question many continued to ask, and that the Compiler and Sentinel's war coverage revolved around, was whether the war was worth it. Events that fall would help Northern citizens answer the question dramatically, but in August those answers were not so apparent.

I do believe that the summer of 1864 has to rank as the darkest period of the war for northern morale, and I do think the Atlanta Campaign - and its successful conclusion in September of 1864 - should outrank Gettysburg in terms of its influence on the war. Militarily, the Northern war effort had achieved a strong position by August - one from which it could begin to bring the war to a close. In that sense, the pessimism of the Northern public can be hard to understand. That's why it is so critical when studying the war to remember that hindsight is 20/20, and that the end of the war was not readily apparent in July of 1863, or even in August of 1864.

Would love to hear other viewpoints on this.

The Army of the Potomac's French Poet-Warrior

For this week's Material Culture Thursday I highlight one of my favorite artifacts from the New York State Museum's current Civil War exhibit - "An Irrepressible Conflict": The Empire State and the Civil War. I reviewed the exhibit in a post last week. Today's item - an officer's commission belonging to Philip Regis de Trobriand, one of my favorite personalities who fought in the Battle of Gettysburg.

This commission appointed de Trobriand a Colonel of New York State Militia, with rank from July 20th, 1861. The document itself was dated August 3rd, 1861, and was signed by the Governor of New York, Edwin Morgan, and Adjutant General of New York State Militia Duncan Campbell.

I have always found de Trobriand one of the more fascinating characters in the war. Born on June 4, 1816 at the Chateau des Rochettes near Tours, France, he was the son of a baron and general in the French army. As a young man Regis - he dropped his first name when Louis Philippe took the crown - studied at the Universities of Tours and Poitiers, and aimed to become a lawyer. He was also known to have participated in duels.

De Trobriand dabbled in poetry as well, and in 1840 published a novel entitled Les Gentilshommes de l'Ouest. The following year, the aristocrat traveled to America for the first time, where he met his future wife, a New York heiress named Mary Mason Jones. The young couple traveled through Europe after their marriage, lived for a time in Venice, but eventually returned and settled in New York in 1847. In New York the Baron focused on his literary work, becoming a regular contributor to the French newspaper, Le Courrier des Etats Unis, as well as other French language publications. 

In July of 1861, de Trobriand became a citizen of the United States and received permission from the War Department to recruit a regiment for service. That regiment, the 55th New York, was known as the Lafayette Guard. Recruited in New York City, most of the men in the regiment were French. De Trobriand led the regiment on the Peninsula and at Fredericksburg. After that battle the depleted 55th merged with the 38th New York, which de Trobriand led at Chacellorsville. Before Gettysburg, the Third Corps underwent a reorganization and de Trobriand received command of the Third Brigade of the First Division.
 
De Trobriand might have been an eccentric French aristocrat with literary flare, but by July 2, 1863 he had also become a battle-hardened combat commander in the Army of the Potomac. When Daniel Sickles took up his forward line on that day, de Trobriand found himself with a difficult if not impossible assignment. Maj. Gen. David Birney's First Division was tasked with covering a huge amount of ground, stretching from the Peach Orchard salient, manned by the division's First Brigade, to Devil's Den, covered by the Second Brigade. De Trobriand's five regiments would have to cover the vast space between.

The ground assigned to de Trobriand was rocky and wooded. The west branch of Plum run ran across his front and beyond that the cleared fields of the Rose Farm stretched to the Emmitsburg Road. Behind de Trobriand the six Napoleons of Battery D, First New York Light unlimbered in the Wheatfield. With his 3rd Michigan out on the skirmish line, de Trobriand positioned his other four regiments as best he could on the Stony Hill. He would not be able to stretch his line to connect with the flanks of either the First or Second Brigades. If the attack came to his front, he would have to depend on covering his own flanks, or hope for reinforcements.

When the Confederate attack began against Devil's Den that afternoon, de Trobriand's forces would be further depleted. He would lose the the 40th New York (the Mozart Regiment), ordered away to reinforce the Second Brigade's left flank at Devils Den. He would also reposition the 17th Maine further to the left, to occupy a stonewall on the southern edge of the Wheatfield and assist the right of the Second Brigade's line.

Regis de Trobriand, photo from Civil War glass negative collection at the Library of Congress.

With the 17th along the stonewall, and the 5th Michigan and 110th Pennsylvania in line of battle along the branch of Plum Run, de Trobriand's men went into action first against Anderson's Georgia brigade, and later against Joseph Kershaw's South Carolinians . His three regiments would receive reinforcements in the form of two regiments from another 3rd Corps brigade, and two brigades from Barnes' 5th Corps division. But these reinforcements would soon fall back in the face of the Confederate attack, forcing de Trobriand and his men to do the same.

Facing two Confederate brigades, de Trobriand and his men could not hold the Confederates off for long. Yet they did delay the Confederate advance long enough for more federal reinforcements to reach the scene and counterattack. The assaults and counter assaults in the Wheatfield would continue, though the Third Brigade's involvement was over. The regiments that fought in the Wheatfield zone under de Trobriand's command lost 340 out of a total strength of 955 - roughly 36% of their strength.

After Gettysburg, de Trobriand briefly left the army after the senate did not confirm his promotion to Brigadier General in the fall of 1863, despite the recommendations of his superior officers. In January of 1864, the promotion came through and de Trobriand was assigned to command the defenses of New York. He would eventually find his way back into the Army of the Potomac, where he commanded the 1st Brigade, 3rd Division, 2nd Corps - troops that belonged to the old 3rd Corps. He remained in this position until the end of the war.

After the war de Trobriand was brevetted a Major General for meritorious conduct and mustered out of the volunteer service, but his military career did not end. After a leave of absence to write memoirs of his wartime service, de Trobriand returned to the regular army as a Colonel. He served at various posts until 1879.

De Trobriand's commission in the State Museum's exhibit is presented in a section discussing New York's foreign-born population and the importance of its involvement in the Civil War. This French Baron, poet and novelist certainly ranks as one of the more fascinating immigrants that served in the Army of the Potomac during the war.

Battle of Gettysburg - YOU ARE THERE!

A hat tip to my good friend Alan Rowe for pointing me to this link from the Internet Archive.

This is a radio recording from CBS News produced in 1948. It's an interesting, if somewhat strange, premise. Basically - the recording imagines what the Battle of Gettysburg would have sounded like if it was covered by radio reporters. Enjoy!

The Summer of '64

Since Christmas, I have spent some of my spare time watching my way through 48 half hour lectures presented by Gary Gallagher on the Civil War, part of The Great Courses series. This course was produced back in 2000.

I have gotten all the way to Lecture 43 - Mobile Bay and Atlanta. Gallagher starts off the lecture with his opinion that Northern morale bottomed out during the summer of 1864. He also asks some intriguing questions as part of the lecture 43 entry in the supplemental course guidebook:

1. Do you believe the Northern people should have been so pessimistic in July and August?

2. Should the Atlanta Campaign outrank Gettysburg in terms of its influence on the course of the war?

To these questions, I would add my own: what period was the darkest of the war for the Northern people?

The floor is open. I'll respond with my own thoughts soon.

Links and Updates

Hello all!

If you've come to the blog today looking for Material Culture Thursday, unfortunately I have nothing for you this week. Work and extracurricular activities have kept me quite busy lately, and will keep me busy at least through the weekend. That said, I thought I would offer up some links to some interesting reads I've seen this past week as a consolation.

First, for your material culture fix, check out the Mysteries and Conundrums Blog for an excellent investigative analysis of a photograph of Confederates on a Railroad Bridge along the Rappahannock River.

Second, yesterday's Washington Post ran a review of a new exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery, "Bound for Freedom's Light: African Americans and the Civil War."

Finally, in the last few weeks I've updated my blog roll a bit in an effort to keep it current. If you don't already follow some of these blogs, check them out (right side of the page). Or, if you follow a blog you think I might find interesting, let me know! I'm always interested in finding new stuff out there.

I have a few blog post ideas waiting in the wings, and I hope to be back up and running with Material Culture Thursday next week.

Exhibitions: The New York State Museum's "An Irrepressible Conflict"

An Irrepressible Conflict: The Empire State in the Civil War opened in September 2012, and will remain open through September 2013.

Today I finally got a chance to stop by the New York State Museum in Albany to take in An Irrepressible Conflict: The Empire State in the Civil War. The show opened back in September, and will remain on view until September of 2013. The exhibition takes up 7,000 square feet of space in the museum, and features an incredible array of artifacts drawn from the collections of the State Museum, the New York State Library and Archives, and from institutions across the state. These artifacts are the great strength of this exhibit, and are worth the visit on their own (admission is free by the way). In an introductory panel, Lincoln scholar Harold Holzer tells us:

The story of the state’s crucial role in winning the Civil War and ending slavery has never before been fully told through the artifacts of the era. Together, those assembled for this exhibit show why New York—even then, even in the crucible of military and social revolution—was truly the state of the Union.

One of my favorite documents in the exhibit, an officer's commission for Philippe Régis Denis de Keredern de Trobriand, a French aristocrat and poet who had emigrated to the United States. He of course commanded the initial forces who held the Wheatfield at Gettysburg on July 2nd. This commission was part of a section detailing the wartime service of New York's immigrant population. Foreign-born men made up 30% of all New York soldiers during the war.

Bust of New York Native William Henry Seward.

The show divided into three basic themes, Antebellum New York, The Civil War, and Reconstruction & the War's Legacy. The section on Antebellum New York was clearly the strongest section, and perhaps the exhibit dwelt too long on this pre-war period. As I looked at the layout, it appeared that this one section occupied fifty percent of the floor space. The curators chose to start their story by discussing slavery in New York, and the fight within the state to emancipate its slaves and outlaw slavery in the early nineteenth century. The section then goes on to give a nice overview of the state before the war, and how it was rapidly changing. It covers the transportation revolution, the influx of immigrants,  the Second Great Awakening and the rise of the abolition movement. It also highlights prominent individuals in New York during this period, such as William H. Seward, Frederick Douglass, Gerrit Smith, John Brown, Sojourner Truth and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. The first section ends with a discussion of the election of 1860 and New York's divided views on slavery.

Section Two focused on the four years of war, and each year received its own sub-section. Within these sub-sections, the curators attempted to tell the story of the war from many different vantage points: they highlighted famous New Yorkers and famous New York regiments, discussed the role of New Yorkers at important battles, delved into the economic impacts of the war with regard to the production of war materials, and touched on other topics such as medicine, conscription, emancipation and New Yorker reactions to emancipation, the wartime service of New York's African American population, wartime politics, and much more.

The final section, Reconstruction and the War's legacy, very briefly looked at the complicated legacy of Reconstruction, and how the war affected New Yorkers in later years. It highlighted veteran efforts to memorialize their service, and brought the story of the Civil War into the 20th century by highlighting the efforts of New Yorkers in the Civil Rights movement, and acknowledging the history of the Ku Klux Klan in the state.

Beyond its rich artifact collection, the exhibit does have some other strengths. While I am no exhibit designer myself, I did enjoy the show's look and feel. I particularly liked the use of wall color to clearly delineate each of the three major themes.

On the other hand, I also noticed some major weaknesses. In an effort to tell a broad story, the exhibit failed to go into great depth on any particular subject, and it also spent an inordinate amount of time on prewar themes and events. The building of the Erie Canal from 1817 to 1825 seemed to received more space than the New York City Draft Riots, the largest civilian insurrection in United States history. The controversial election of 1876, which featured New York's Democratic Governor Samuel Tilden and brought about the end of Reconstruction, earned just one sentence in the entire show.

The exhibit did not have much of an exploration of what life was like for New York women on the homefront. It also lacked any analysis of why New York soldiers chose to fight. Each topic that was explored, such as the role of specific regiments in major battles, or New York reactions to Emancipation, seemed to only scratch the surface before moving on to another topic.

I also found a number of small factual errors increasingly annoying as I went through the exhibit. At first I felt nit-picky. But the more they piled up, the more I began to question the depth of research that went into the exhibit. A few examples I noted:

• In its Gettysburg sub-section, the exhibit uses a large print of one of the most famous Civil War photographs, Timothy O'Sullivan's A Harvest of Death. The caption reads : "This photograph of Union troops killed on the first day at Gettysburg was taken by Timothy O'Sullivan, employed by Matthew Brady." The location of this photo is far from certain as discussed in the work of William Frassanito. While this mistake did not bother me much, identifying O'Sullivan as an employee of Matthew Brady did. While earlier in the war O'Sullivan did work for Brady, by Gettysburg he was working with Alexander Gardner, very much separated from Brady's studio, and in competition with it.
• Another label indicates that Grant received command of all Union forces late in 1863. This did not occur until March of 1864
• A label discussing Phil Sheridan's career read: "General Grant gave him command when he consolidated all of the Army of the Potomac's cavalry into a single corps." This of course happened long before Sheridan arrived in the east, and Joe Hooker was the one who consolidated the Army of the Potomac's cavalry into one corps in the spring of 1863.

All of these I realize are nit-picky details. Yet I would expect more of a major exhibition - and these readily identifiable errors led me to question the depth of research conducted.

One final critique I have is that the exhibit is in no way interactive, and I saw little effort made to improve the overall learning experience for children or for individuals who are hands-on learners. At the very least, the curators missed an great opportunity to allow visitors to engage with incredible materials available at the museum, as well as at the New York State Library and Archive. I know the State archives have phenomenal resources related to New York's regiments and soldiers, and I know that they have a good deal of this information readily available online. A few simple computer stations at the end of the exhibit would have allowed visitors to explore more information about particular regiments, or even look up an ancestor who may have fought for New York during the war.

The Battle Flag of the 11th New York, better known as the First Fire Zouaves. Their first commander, Elmer Ellsworth, was the first officer killed during the Civil War.

I found myself comparing this exhibition to two others that I have seen: the New York Historical Society's New York Divided show back in 2007, which focused on New York City in the Civil War, and the Missouri History Museum's The Civil War in Missouri, which I saw in 2011 but is still currently on view. The quality and significance of the artifacts brought together for An Irrepressible Conflict equaled or exceeded these two exhibitions. And yet, I found the New York State Museum's show lacking in the depth of the story that it tells. Perhaps if the curators had narrowed their story and approached their main themes by focusing on a handful of engaging New York personalities who experienced the war, they might have had the ability to tell a richer story.

Despite the weaknesses, the show is well worth a visit to the New York State Museum.

The Future of Civil War History

A new video out this morning from the Civil War Monitor - an interview with the Associate Director of the Civil War Institute at Gettysburg College, Jill Titus. The focus of the conversation is the upcoming Conference on the Future of Civil War History this March. I'm looking forward to attending.