Debate Continues Over St. Louis Confederate Memorial

My wife and I spent some time this holiday season visiting her family in St. Louis. While visiting the Missouri History Museum this week, we passed by the Confederate Memorial in Forest Park. Over the past year, this monument has generated a fair amount of controversy as the city considers proposals for its removal and relocation. Nick Sacco has covered this on his Exploring the Past Blog. It will be interesting to see how the debate turns out.

I first ran across the Confederate Memorial on one of my earlier visits to the city, and ended up doing a bit of research about the monument's erection. Here's what I wrote back in January of 2013, before the controversy erupted:

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My most interesting discovery during the week though was two monuments located in Forest Park, just a few hundred yards away from the Missouri History Museum and a stone's throw from one another. These two monuments speak strongly to the divided nature of the war years in St. Louis, and also to the struggle over the memory of the war.

General Franz Sigel Statue, in Forest Park, St. Louis.

During the war, St. Louis was a city with divided loyalties. Many residents had southern roots. Yet the growth of finance and industry before the war created many strong ties to the North, and St. Louis's expanding population of German-born Americans remained staunchly Unionist and antislavery. The first monument we ran across spoke to this population of German immigrants - it was an equestrian statue of General Franz Sigel.

Sigel obtained his first military experience in his home nation of Baden, and participated in the 1848 Revolution. When the Revolution was suppressed, Sigel fled, eventually settling in New York in 1852. He made a name for himself in the German-American community, writing for the New Yorker Staats-Zeitung and the New York Times. In 1857, Sigel moved to St. Louis, and at the outbreak of the war proved instrumental in rallying German-born Americans to enlist. He became a Colonel in the 3rd Missouri and fought under Lyon. In August of 1861 he was promoted to Brigadier General, a position he earned in no small part to his value as a recruiter of German-Americans. Sigel served throughout the Civil War, but never gained much success as a military commander.

The statue was unveiled in 1906. It was sculpted by German sculptor Robert Cauer and cast at the Lauchhammer Foundery in Lauchhammer, Germany. The inscription at the base of the monument reads: "To remind future generations of the heroism of German-American patriots in St. Louis and vicinity in the Civil War of 1861-1865. General Franz Sigel."

Nearby, we came across the Confederate Memorial in Forest Park. At first, I was somewhat surprised to find a Confederate Memorial here. Missouri divisions ran deep, but St. Louis remained a Union stronghold throughout the war, despite the presence in the city of southern sentiments. When we arrived at the monument though, I began to understand: this monument, dedicated in 1914, sought to set in stone (quite literally) the Lost Cause mythology of the war.

Confederate Memorial, Forest Park, St. Louis.

The statue features bronze statuary depicting a southern family sending a young man off to war, above which sits a relief carving of the "Angel Spirit of the Confederacy." The back side of the 23 foot tall memorial features two engraved quotations. The first was written by Robert Cattlett Cave, a St. Louis minister who had served as a Virginia soldier in the war:

To the Memory of the Soldiers and Sailors of the Southern Confederacy.

Who fought to uphold the right declared by the pen of Jefferson and achieved by the sword of Washington. With sublime self sacrifice they battled to preserve the independence of the states which was won from Great Britain, and to perpetuate the constitutional government which was established by the fathers.

Actuated by the purest patriotism they performed deeds of prowess such as thrilled the heart of mankind with admiration. 'Full in the front of war they stood' and displayed a courage so superb that they gave a new and brighter luster to the annals of valor. History contains no chronicle more illustrious than the story of their achievements; and although, worn out by ceaseless conflict and overwhelmed by numbers, they were finally forced to yield, their glory, 'on brightest pages penned by poets and by sages shall go sounding down the ages.'

The inscription oozes Lost Cause mythology at its finest. We did not fight to protect slavery, this monument states, but rather to protect the right of self government guaranteed by the Declaration and the Constitution. And, it continues, we would have won if not for overwhelming numbers. If one inscription does not drive the point home - another inscription quotes Robert E. Lee:

We had sacred principles to maintain and rights to defend for which we were duty bound to do our best, even if we perished in the endeavor.

After viewing the monument, I hoped to find out more about how it came to be when I returned to New York. So far I have yet to locate any newspaper coverage of the construction and dedication, but I have found some information about the monument in Katharine T. Corbett's In Her Place: A Guide to St. Louis Women's History, published in 1999. The monument was dedicated on December 5, 1914, and was funded by the Ladies Confederate Monument Association of the United Daughters of the Confederacy. It's construction came not without a bit of controversy though. It took several years of advocacy on the part of the UDC to succeed in placing the monument. Government officials objected to any memorial that commemorated Confederate military forces.

Confederate Memorial, Forest Park, St. Louis.

To get around this injunction, the UDC held a public competition calling for designs that did not depict a soldier in Confederate uniform, nor any object of modern warfare. Models of each submission were displayed in the new St. Louis Public Library. George Julian Zolnay's winning design - with it's young man in civilian clothing headed off to war - met the requirements. The UDC raised the $23,000 for the monument and presented it as a gift to the city. Not wanting to expend any money on a monument to treasonous Americans, city councilmen passed an ordinance requiring the UDC to pay for the upkeep on the monument.

By 1914, the Lost Cause version of the Civil War was in the ascendancy. The following year would bring the release of Birth of a Nation. In 1917, the Virginia Memorial would be dedicated at Gettysburg, the first of the Confederate state monuments on the battlefield.

Today, the Confederate Memorial that stands in Forest Park not only honors the memory of the soldiers and sailors of the Confederacy. It also stands as a testament to the effort to win the battle over the memory and to rewrite the meaning of the war. Taken together with the monument to Sigel that stands not too far away - it reminds us that St. Louis was a divided city during (and after) the Civil War.

The First Memorial (Two Years Later)

Two years ago yesterday, I began this blog with a post reflecting on the 1st Minnesota's Memorial Urn in the Gettysburg National Cemetery.

All time is the millennium of their glory.

As we approach Memorial Day yet again, I thought it would be a fitting repost: The First Memorial.

"Fight it out with Facts Instead of Bullets"

The 111th New York monument at the Brian Barn. Photo taken by author on June 30, 2013.

Today I take a bit of a break from my series on French's Pets and return to Gettysburg. I've always had a fascination with the period of monumentation on the Gettysburg battlefield, and some of the placement controversies that arose during that time. The most famous of these postwar battles centered on the placement of the 72nd Pennsylvania monument at the stone wall of the angle, a case that went all the way to the Pennsylvania Supreme Court. While this controversy has received a great deal of attention over the years, others of similar nature cropped up in the 1880s and 1890s. Flipping through the Bachelder Papers last week, I discovered a controversy that I had never run across before.
 

On May 27th, 1890, members of the New Jersey Monument Commission met upon the Gettysburg Battlefield to inspect the state's monuments and their surroundings. When the group approached the monument to the 12th New Jersey, located along the stone wall west of Hancock Avenue and south of the Abraham Brian farm, they discovered that something was amiss. There at the wall, between the 12th New Jersey monument and its right flank marker, excavations had begun on the foundation for a new monument. The Commission's reaction, and the controversy that followed, reveals the importance that Gettysburg veterans placed on the monuments on the field. In their minds, the memorials not only honored sacrifice, but also served as a permanent record of their deeds, written in stone for all time. These monuments would become the irrefutable evidence that visitors to the field would use to make sense of events. With such a mindset, even short distances became flash points between veteran organizations when it came to monument placement.

This particular controversy surrounded a new monument commissioned by the veterans of the 111th New York Infantry. In the battle, both the 111th and the 12th New Jersey served in Brig. Gen. Alexander Hays' third division of the Second Corps, though in separate brigades. The disagreement centered on each regiment's respective role during the repulse of Pickett's Charge on the afternoon of July 3rd. The 2nd brigade (including the 12th NJ) held a position along the stonewall between the angle and Abraham Brian's barn. The 3rd brigade (including the 111th), began the day in support of the 2nd, resting in an orchard just to to the east of the Brian house. According to guidelines established in 1887 by the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association, regiments were required to place their monuments on their "line of battle" where they entered the fight. The 12th contended that the New Yorkers had spent the entirety of Pickett's Charge in a line to their rear, and had only rushed forward at the end of the conflict. Meanwhile the 111th contended that they had moved forward to the stone wall by the Brian barn at the beginning of the rebel cannonade, and had held that position during the entirety of the charge. The difference in opinion could be measured in a few yards - to place a monument on the east side of Hancock Avenue, or on the west - but those yards meant a great deal to both sides.

A modern satellite view of northern Cemetery Ridge taken from google maps.

The opening salvo in the affair came on May 28th, 1890, the day after the New Jersey Monument Commission first beheld the proposed location of the 111th's monument. On that day, the commission sought out Charles H. Buehler, Vice President of the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association, as well as secretary Calvin Hamilton, to complain about the 111th's monument. Among the commissioners was Edward L. Stratton, who had commanded Company F of the 12th New Jersey during the battle. That evening, Stratton and his fellow commissioners sat down at the Eagle Hotel on Chambersburg Street and wrote out a formal protest to Buehler. Work on the new monument came to a temporary halt.

Within a few days, the New Jersey commissioners began to rally support among the veterans of the 12th New Jersey to fight the monument location, and the letter writing began. On May 31, Capt. William E. Potter, the President of the 12th's Reunion Society, took pen in hand to write to the Adjutant General of New Jersey:

No one desires to disparage the services of the 111th New York. But it is capable of the clearest proof that whatever firing they did upon that eventful day was done in rear of, and over the heads of the line of the 12th New Jersey Volunteers which completely filled up the space between the barn spoken of, and the right flank of the 1st Delaware Vols.

Another veteran, First Sergeant Joseph Burroughs of Company A, 12th New Jersey, took up the cause with a pair of letters to GBMA officials on June 4th -  one to John Bachelder, and the other to Edward McPherson. Pointing to the previously erected monuments of the the 3rd brigade, (the 39th, 125th and 126th New York), he noted that "the other regiments of that brigade have placed their monuments on their (the second) line, and we cannot see the justice of the action of the 111th." Henry F. Chew, another veteran who commanded a company of the 12th during the battle, also wrote on the 4th. " The members of our regiment are very indignant over the matter," he explained to Bachelder, "and have directed me to proceed to Gettysburg as soon as possible and see what can be done." He would arrive a week later.

Letters continued to pour in, and on June 10th, the Adjutant General of New Jersey, William Stryker, joined the fray at the direction of Governor Leon Abbett, pressing the GBMA to deal with the situation. The swift involvement of the government reflects the political power of veteran organizations in the late 19th century. The outpouring of indignation caused a quick reaction within the GBMA. On the 11th, Buehler wrote to Bachelder, and seemingly laid the blame, and the task of finding a solution at the historian's feet:

I am surprised that the Directors of the Memorial Association, with the experience of the 72d Pa. in their hands, should allow the 111th New York to usurp the position of the 12th New Jersey; and that in direct contradiction to the rule of the association more often alluded to than any other. I hope to hear that this flagrant breach of our rules has been stopped.

For his part, Bachelder also came down on the side of the side of the 12th. The 111th was in a reserve brigade, he wrote to Buehler, "the position of this command should be marked on the East side of Hancock Ave. on a line with the 39th, 125th, and 126th N.Y. of the same brigade."

With the outrage of New Jersey veterans, the pressure of the New Jersey government, and the endorsement of John Bachelder and Charles Buehler, the matter perhaps seemed settled. But in Auburn, New York, Clinton D. MacDougall--commander of the 111th at Gettysburg--was organizing his response.On June 25th, Captain Aaron P. Seeley of the 111th wrote to MacDougall to offer his assistance:

Our percentage of loss at Gettysburg was only exceeded by two other Union Regiments, and the survivors will never forget, where they stood and where their comrades fell, and should it become necessary for the old fellows to go down, and fight it out with facts instead of bullets. Give us the long roll and we are at your heels as of yore.

The battle had been joined. In my next post I will look at the 111th's response and the ultimate resolution. To be continued.

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Source Note: The correspondence cited in this post comes from The Bachelder Papers: Gettysburg in Their Own Words, Volumen III, transcribed, edited and annotated by David L. and Audrey J. Ladd, and published by Morningside Press in 1995.

The Wounded Lion

15th Massachusetts Monument at Antietam. Photo by Michael Noirot.
Creative Commons Licensing.

Back in the middle of May (it seems a long time ago now) I wrote about the 15th Massachusetts monument at Gettysburg, and the address given at its dedication by the 15th's original Colonel, Charles Devens Jr. At the time I indicated that I would expand upon the post with a look at the 15th's monument at Antietam. Well, today I'm finally getting around to it.

In some ways, it seems odd that the 15th Massachusetts placed a monument at Gettysburg some fourteen years before they got around to placing one on the Antietam Battlefield. And yet, it also fits perfectly within the unfolding story of battlefield commemoration at the time. While the 15th rendered important service on July 2nd and 3rd, 1863, it was at Antietam where the regiment encountered its most difficult assignment. Despite fighting in more than 45 engagements, the half hour the 15th spent in the West Woods at Antietam was where its blood ran most freely.

At about 9:15 on the morning of September 17, 1862, General John Sedgwick's division of about 5,000 soldiers emerged out of the East Woods and advanced toward the Dunker Church and the West Woods. Sedgwick's troops moved forward in a column of brigades, each of his three brigades lined up one behind another. The first brigade in line was General Willis Gorman's, consisting of the 15th Massachusetts, the 1st Minnesota, the 34th and 82nd New York, and two companies of attached sharpshooters. Gorman's men pushed past the Dunker Church and into the West Woods beyond. When they reached the far side of the woods, more than 20 pieces of Confederate artillery positioned 700 yards ahead on Hauser's Ridge exploded to life, and canister and shell rounds began ripping huge holes in the 15th's ranks. Simultaneously, they received a deadly volley from Paul Semmes brigade, posted less than 50 yards away amongst the buildings, fields and orchards of the A. Poffenberger Farm. For the next quarter-hour, the 15th stood to their bloody work as they traded fire with Confederate infantry and artillery in their front. They managed to gain some ten yards of ground, and their fire briefly managed to silence one of the Confederate batteries. They even captured a rebel battle flag. As Sedgwick's other brigades began to stack up behind Gorman's, the 15th began to experience friendly fire from units posted in its rear. Worse was yet to come. As Lieutenant Colonel John W. Kimball later reported:

The enemy soon appeared in heavy columns, advancing upon my left and rear, pouring a deadly cross-fire on my left. I immediately and without orders ordered my command to retire, having first witnessed the same movement on the part of both the second and third lines.

These heavy columns consisted of rebel reinforcements led by the division of Lafayette McLaws. Stubbornly, the 15th fell back while suffering heavy losses. Kimball's report continued:

I desire to say that my entire regiment behaved most gallantly during the engagement, evincing great coolness and bravery, as my list of casualties will show. Although suffering terribly from the fire of the enemy, it was with great surprise that they received the order to retire, never entertaining for a moment any idea but that of complete success, although purchased at the cost of their lives.

It was indeed at quite a cost. In just about 25 minutes, the 15th Massachusetts lost more than 340 of its 600 men, a casualty rate of about 53%. They suffered more casualties than any other regiment in the entire battle. And yet, more than twenty years later, when the survivors of the 15th began to think of honoring their fallen comrades, and commemorating their service, they turned first to the Gettysburg battlefield, and waited still another 14 years to commemorate their Antietam Service. Why?

Part of this story relates to the symbolic importance that Gettysburg developed following the war.  For a variety of reasons--not all agreed upon--in the post-war years there existed a general consensus that Gettysburg represented the turning point of the war. Through the efforts of John Bachelder and others, Americans came to see the Angle and the Copse of Trees, as the "High Water Mark of the Rebellion." Abraham Lincoln's dedicatory words at Gettysburg also gave the landscape increased meaning. And in the 1880s, when the Grand Army of the Republic assumed a controlling interest in the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association, they began to make strong efforts to convince veterans to place moments on the field, turning Gettysburg into one vast memorial landscape to the Army of the Potomac. The GBMA supported these efforts by acquiring more battlefield land and opening avenues to allow veteran access to that land. With the G.A.R.'s growing political power, soon state legislatures began to provide public funding for regimental monuments.

This story stands in marked contrast to the development of the Antietam Battlefield. In her 2005 Dissertation entitled "Remembering Antietam: Commemoration and Preservation of a Civil War Battlefield," Susan W. Trail argued:

Whereas the alignment between local, state, and national interests generally continued at Gettysburg, particularly with the strengthening of state (Pennsylvania Department of the GAR) and national (Society of the Army of the Potomac, national GAR) aspects of the continuum, there was little movement at Antietam at this time toward such an alignment. Instead, memorial activities generally remained private affairs.

Trail went on to point out that of the five National Battlefields organized by the War Department in the 1890s, commissions of Civil War veterans oversaw four, while Antietam was administered by a miscellaneous board whose first president had no connection to the battle. This board also established a policy of purchasing only narrow strips of land for right-of-way access roads rather than preserving large segments of the battlefield, thus limiting the amount of ground available to place monuments. The board urged veterans to consider erecting larger state monuments rather than individual memorials. Those regiments looking to erect their own monuments often had to deal directly with private land owners to purchase land for the monument, and often these owners had no desire to sell. All of this tended to encourage veterans who fought on both battlefields to look toward the more welcoming environment of Gettysburg to erect memorials, and the once bloody fields of Antietam initially saw little in the way of monumentation. The divergent paths taken in developing the commemorative landscape of Gettysburg and Antietam no doubt continue to influence the memory of these battlefields today.

Yet the survivors of the 15th Massachusetts never forgot about their experiences at Antietam, nor did they ever give up their goal of one day having a memorial placed to mark the spot of their horrific fight near the A. Poffenberger Farm. Following their monument dedication at Gettysburg in June of 1886, the Regimental  Association took a train from Gettysburg to the Antietam Battlefield, to visit the West Woods. They returned again twelve years later, in 1898. After this excursion, the survivors finally raised enough funds to purchase land from George Poffenberger and erect a monument on the site of their bloodiest experience. The monument was dedicated on September 17th, 1900.

The Wounded Lion. Photo by Michael Noirot. Creative Commons Licensing.

While the 15th's Gettysburg monument can be described as rather plain and unimaginative, their monument at Antietam is anything but. Sculpted out of Troy granite by A.O. Connor and weighing 20 tons, the monument cost the Regimental Association $2,000. The base of the monument features bronze tablets on front and rear. The front tablet describes their fight at Antietam, while the rear contains a listing of all those killed or mortally wounded during the action. On top of the base sits a full-sized wounded lion, carved from a block of granite that weighed some ten tons. The monument sits on the site of the 15th's furthest advance. On dedication day, between 200 and 300 survivors and their family and friends were on hand to listen to an address by John W. Kimball, who led the 15th in battle at Antietam. The regiment may have waited fourteen years after erecting their Gettysburg monument to place an adequate remembrance at Antietam, but when they finally got around to it, they placed (in my opinion) one of the finest regimental monuments you will see on a Civil War battlefield.

A Note on Sources:
For combat descriptions, I utilized the Official Records, the 15th Massachusetts' regimental history (available on Google Books), the National Park Service's West Woods walking tour guide, the Civil War Trust's Antietam Battle App, and John Michael Priest's Antietam: The Soldiers' Battlefield - A Self-Guided Mini-Tour.

For information on the postwar commemorative landscapes of Gettysburg and Antietam, I utilized Susan W. Trail's "Remembering Antietam: Commemoration and Preservation of a Civil War Battlefield" as well as Thomas A. Desjardin's These Honored Dead: How the Story of Gettysburg Shaped American Memory. I also utilized several contemporary articles about the 15th's monument dedications published in the Adams County Star and Sentinel, the Hagerstown Mail, and in the Boston Globe.

72nd PA Monument Update: It's Back Up!

Fast work by the Park Service - the statue on the 72nd Monument - which was damaged in last night's storm in Gettysburg - was back up this afternoon, though the soldier now sports a bent musket. Michael Waricher's got some neat photos of the restoration on his facebook page.

The Great Cause

Photo by Michael Noirot.
Creative Commons Licensing.

It was a scene that Gettysburgians were beginning to get used to. The special train pulled into the station at around 5:30 p.m., unloading a crowd of about 150 survivors and friends of the 15th Massachusetts. It was Tuesday, June 1st, 1886. The out-of-town party made its way to overnight accommodations, and undoubtedly a lively time was had that evening around the square and at the Eagle Hotel on the corner of Chambersburg and Washington.
 
The 15th served for three years in the war, from the summer of 1861 to the summer of 1864, and saw a fair share of combat. The regiment recorded more casualties at the Battle of Antietam than any other unit engaged. It had arrived at Gettysburg in July of 1863 under the command of Colonel George Ward. His service had already cost Ward a leg. In the early morning hours of July 3rd, it took his life. After two days of fighting, 143 of the regiment's 239 men were listed as casualties, including 22 dead.


Wednesday, June 2nd, 1886 dawned misty and damp, with threatening rain clouds hovering overhead. Despite the inclement weather, the large party made its way out of town to dedicate the 15th's monument on Cemetery Ridge. The main speaker on this day was Brevet Major General Charles Devens Jr. Devens was a fitting choice to dedicate the 15th's monument. In 1861, he led this regiment to war.

Born in Charlestown, Devens grew up in Boston, and graduated from Harvard. After a number of years practicing law, Devens won election to the State Senate as a Whig in 1848. The following year, President Millard Filmore appointed him the U.S. Marshall in Massachusetts. It was in this role in 1851 that Devens was ordered to hand over the fugitive slave Thomas Sims to the federal troops for a return to slavery. Devens complied, despite his own personal disgust at doing so. He served as U.S. Marshall until 1853, and then moved to Worcester, Massachusetts to resume his private practice of law. Here he remained until the outbreak of war. He was elected Major of a three-month outfit, the 3rd Batallion of Massachusetts Rifles, and then later received an appointment as the Colonel of the newly mustered 15th Massachusetts, a command raised from Worcester County.

Devens and his new command went to war in the summer of 1861. In its first engagement, the Battle of Ball's Bluff on October 21, 1861, the regiment met with disaster, and lost 2 officers and 12 men killed, 4 officers and 57 men wounded, and 8 officers and 219 men missing. Wounded in action, Devens somehow crossed the Potomac River to escape capture that night, aided by three comrades. He returned to the regiment after a brief furlough, but in April of 1862 left for good when he received a Brigadier General's commission and command of a brigade. He continued to serve through the rest of the war, and was wounded at the Battle of Fair Oaks and at Chancellorsville. He rose eventually to division command and at the end of the war was brevetted a Major General. Devens continued to serve after the war, mustering out finally in June of 1866. His postwar career included stints as a Justice on the Massachusetts Supreme Court, and as Attorney General of the United States in the Hayes administration. He also served two terms as Commander in Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Charles Devens Jr.

As Devens stood before his comrades on Cemetery Ridge on this gray morning, he prepared to give a speech that would stand in marked contrast to many that the fields of Gettysburg had seen in recent years, and would see for years to come. By 1886, a narrative of reconciliation had taken hold over the memory of the war. At Gettysburg and elsewhere, monument dedications served as a platform to honor the mutual sacrifices and equal honor of soldiers north and south, and to mark the fraternal bonds of soldiers in blue and gray. These speeches highlighted valor and deeds, ignored the causes of the war and the bitterness that remained, and praised the stronger nation that the fires of war wrought. Charles Devens though, would not follow script. Politely, but firmly, he would use his speech to make his own statement about the war, and about its legacy. The monument to the 15th Massachusetts, he argued, had a wider scope than simply remembering the sacrifices of those who lost their lives. "In a large sense," he explained, "it commemorates all the brave men who nobly gave or bravely offered their lives, and testifies to our own devotion to and faith in the great cause which demanded this solemn sacrifice."

But what exactly did he mean by "the great cause"?

"This memorial is reared in no spirit of hostility toward or exultation over the defeated in our late civil war. Let the passions it engendered pass away with the dreadful source from which it sprung. Even if the baffled and beat traitor, around whom gathered all the infamies and horrors by which a wretched cause was rendered even more wicked, still parades himself with feeble utterance to cry out the cause is not dead, secession and slavery are in their dishonorable graves together. The hand of a merciful Providence will extend to them no resurrection.... Yet as we stand by these glorious graves we cannot confound the heroes and martyrs of a noble cause with those whom the twin furies of treason and slavery lead forth to battle, unless by a confusion of ideas worthy of chaos itself. It is the cause which sets our brethren apart among the myriads who people the silent cities of the dead. We should not be true to their just and lasting fame if in any sickly sentimental gush of reconciliation we should hesitate to assert that the principles for which they died were right, and those against which they fought were deeply wrong. That assertion, in no sense unkind or ungenerous to those with whom they were once in deadly strife, this monument makes to-day. It tells of bravery and vigor, but it tells of more than these, for it tells of duty and patriotism, and it summons all who look upon it hereafter to answer their call."

The monument to the 15th Massachusetts which stands today along Cemetery Ridge, says very little beyond identifying its Corps and division, and its position on July 3rd, 1863. Yet, on the day of its dedication, Charles Devens spoke forcefully on the monument's meaning to those who placed it. In 1886, Devens' voice was overwhelmed in a tide of reconciliationist memories of the war that would define its historiography for nearly a century.

In a later post, I will take a closer look at the 15th's monument at Antietam, installed 14 years later.

Clinging to the Stone Wall

When I have a chance to get down to Gettysburg and spend some time on the battlefield, I prefer using my legs rather than a car, and I try to find quiet places away from tour traffic. Of all the many areas to explore, I've always rated the Wheatfield and Rose's Woods among my favorite spots. It's true, Sickles Avenue travels right across the Wheatfield carrying tourists on the two-hour driving tour, or those moving on from an excursion at Devils Den. But you can get away from the main roads bit. The loop out to the Rose Farm fields on Cross/Brooke/De Trobriand Avenues rarely has many visitors, and the old trolly path that works its way up from Devils Den provides a secluded, if often muddy, hike.

I enjoy the many stories of this area of the field. The attacks here resulted in a confusing, see-saw struggle that sucked in waves of reinforcements on both sides, and featured some of the bloodiest fighting of the entire war. Some 20,000 soldiers fought here on the evening of July 2nd, and 30% became casualties. Today, these woods and fields are filled with many monuments. Some are typical regimental monuments, others a bit more unique. You can find small markers denoting the locations where Lieutenant Colonel Henry Merwin and Captain Jed Chapman of the 27th Connecticut, and Captain Henry Fuller of the 64th New York fell. If you so choose, you can locate the rock where Colonel John Wheeler supposedly fell leading the 20th Indiana, or the rock marked with an "X" that Colonel John R. Brooke allegedly stood on to better observe Confederate forces arrayed against him. Non-military stories abound as well. You can walk in the footsteps of Alexander Gardner and his crew of cameramen where they recorded their famous death studies. Or you can visit the Rose farm, read J. Howard Wert's description of the landscape he saw here after the battle, and contemplate the ruin and destruction that awaited John Rose when he returned to his home. One marker on the Stony Hill denotes the location of an advanced aid station set up behind a group of rocks and boulders by surgeon Z. Boylston Adams of the 32nd Massachusetts. Just yards from the firing line, the close proximity of this station provided swift medical care for wounded soldiers, and likely saved lives. Today it's a great place to interpret medical care on the battlefield. Of all the many interesting markers and monuments in the Wheatfield area though, my favorite has always been the 17th Maine's. The artistry of this monument conveys to the viewer important details about the experiences of the men in the ranks on the afternoon of July 2nd, 1863.

17th Maine Monument in the Wheatfield. Note the
stone wall in rear of the monument. Photo by Jenn
Goellnitz. Creative Commons Licensing.

Dedicated on October 10, 1888 and designed by the Hallowell Granite Company, the twenty-foot high regimental monument sits astride the stone wall at the southern edge of the Wheatfield. On top is a statue chiseled out of white Hallowell granite that features an infantryman resting behind a stone wall  with the rifle at the ready, peering into Rose's Woods. The stone wall represents the very wall that still stands today at the southern base of the monument. The wall was included in the design of the monument to reflect its importance to those that clung to it for cover during the battle.

The regiment entered the battle on July 2nd with 350 men commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Charles B. Merrill, a 36-year-old lawyer from Portland. Initially deployed on the Stony Hill that afternoon, Merrill received orders shortly after the Confederate attack began to take his men across the Wheatfield to fill a gap that existed between the forces on the Stony Hill and Brigadier General J. Hobart Ward's line above Devil's Den. Lieutenant Charles W. Roberts, the 17th's adjutant, later recalled:

The regiment immediately moved by the left flank double-quick through the woods in our front, diagonally across the wheat-field to a stone wall separating it from thick woods beyond, which we found occupied by the enemy, who opened upon us a heavy musketry fire as we neared the wall; but upon reaching it we were well protected and had no difficulty in holding our position against his repeated assaults.

At first, the 17th only faced the right of the 3rd Arkansas, which fired at the Maine men from the cover of rocks and trees. On the rise of ground in the Wheatfield behind the 17th, six Napoleons of Battery D, 1st New York Light artillery began blasting solid shot into the trees over the heads of the Maine men. Two regiments from Colonel George C. Burling's brigade, the 115th Pennsylvania and 8th New Jersey, soon moved into line on the right of the 17th. New Confederate forces also moved into the area with the arrival of Tige Anderson's Georgia brigade to support the 3rd Arkansas. Private John Haley, a 23 year-old mill worker from Biddeford, Maine, reported that as the Georgians pressed their attack "there was a dreadful buzzing of bullets and other missiles, highly suggestive of an obituary notice for a goodly number of Johnny Rebs.... A great number of our own men were sharing the same fate."

The value of the stone wall was as obvious to the men of the 17th Maine as the lack of protection was obvious to Burling's regiments to its right. Lieutenant Roberts understood this:

Lacking the friendly shelter of the stone wall which barely extended to the right of our line, [the force to our right] was unable to withstand the terrific fire poured in upon it and soon retired with the loss of many of its members. Taking advantage of the repulse... the enemy advanced into the ravine evidently with the intention of flanking the 17th Maine. As soon as his object was discovered, Colonel Merrill ordered a portion of our right wing to swing back at right angles with the stone wall in front, and it came within my line of duty to communicate that order to the captains of the several companies, as the rattle of musketry and roar of artillery from a battery near us prevented the voice of our commander from being heard along the line. The movement was promptly executed in the face of a severe fire from the enemy in front and upon our flank, but with heavy loss to the regiment, two of the captains and one of the lieutenants receiving mortal wounds and many of the enlisted men falling under the shower of bullets.

With the right three companies of the regiment now facing west and positioned along a rail fence that ran perpendicular to the stone wall, the fight continued. Anderson's Georgians tenaciously rushed up to the wall, where hand-to-hand combat ensued. A color bearer attempted to plant his flag at the wall, but was driven back. After a fierce struggle, the Georgians fell back to reform, and to seek aid. They found help when the South Carolina brigade of Brigadier General Joseph Kershaw crossed the Emmitsburg Road and approached the Wheatfield from the west. At the same time, Anderson renewed his assault, and the Union line began to fall apart. Kershaw's men flanked the 5th Michigan and 110th Pennsylvania and began to approach the right rear of the 17th. A crisis had arrived. Private Haley recalled the moment:

At this point, while shot, shell, spherical case, and canister filled the air, General de Trobriand, our brigade commander, rode down into the wheat field and inquired, "What troops are those holding the stone wall so stubbornly?" On learning it was the 17th Maine, one of his regiments, he ordered us to "Fall back, right away!" But we didn't bear the order. It isn't often that an order to fall back in a battlefield is disregarded. The old fellow didn't quite comprehend this state of ours. We had good reason for our action. This stone wall was a great protection and the Rebels were straining every nerve to get possession of it for the same purpose. So we held it till our ammunition was exhausted and we had used all we could find on the dead and wounded. If we could hold on until reinforcements or a supply of ammunition came, all would be well. Otherwise, no one could tell what direful woes might befall us.

In their rear, as other units gave way Battery D began to fire case and canister at the Rebel forces. Soon another order arrived at the stone wall, this born by an aide to division commander David Birney, and warning the 17th that they were in danger of capture. "We knew that the moment we abandoned our position the Rebels would seize it," Haley continued, "But we couldn't hold it without ammunition, and as the troops on our right gave way, we saw it was now time for us to go."

Reluctantly giving up their stone wall, the 17th fell back to the Wheatfield Road. They did not stay here long. The rapid withdraw of troops had endangered Battery D, now attempting to withdraw while Confederates in the woods picked off its men and horses. General Birney appeared in front of the 17th and directed it to move back into the Wheatfield to to buy time for the gunners. Lieutenant Colonel Merrill, filing his report on July 5th, recorded that:

With cheers for our gallant commander the regiment moved quickly forward, and pouring into the enemy volley after volley their advance was checked. The contest now was of a most deadly character, almost hand to hand, and our loss was very severe.  In the Color Guard of ten but three escaped uninjured.

While the regiment stood alone along the crest of the ridge in the Wheatfield, Lieutenant Roberts was wounded:

I was struck in the right leg above the knee by a bullet with such force as to throw me upon my face. Colonel Merrill, who was standing near me, immediately cut one of the straps from his sword belt and bound it tightly around my limb to stop the flow of blood, and ordered four of the men near at hand to take me to the rear in a rubber blanket, as the stretchers and ambulance corps were all in use at that moment.... In being carried to the rear I passed through two lines of battle that were apparently forming for the relief of the Third Corps, which had been under fire without support since early in the afternoon. 

 The regiment out of ammunition, and reinforcements at hand, the 17th withdrew and ended its fight in the Wheatfield. The men had stubbornly held to the protection of that low stone wall, and were one of the last organized Union forces remaining in the Wheatfield at the end of the first phase of fighting. In the process, they bought enough time for reinforcements to arrive. Just as the Confederates appeared to have won the field, a new phase of fighting was about to begin.

Today, the infantryman sitting behind the stone wall atop the 17th's monument gives us an accurate image of the 17th's experience, and shows modern battlefield tourists just how important that stone wall was to the course of events that afternoon.

Incorporating the Commemorative Landscape: The 121st PA

Back in January I started a weekly material culture series. I was going strong for about 5 weeks before I faltered a bit. This week, Material Culture Thursday returns with a look at the monument(s) of the 121st Pennsylvania.

12st PA Monument on Reynolds Avenue.
Photo by Jenn Goellnitz. Creative Commons Licensing.

During the Future of Civil War history conference, I attended an excellent field experience entitled Incorporating the Commemorative Landscape into Civil War Interpretation. We boarded a bus on a cold and rainy Saturday morning and headed out to the battlefield with Sue Boardman, Thomas Desjardin, and Thomas Brown. For an hour and a half our group analyzed the interpretive potential, and the dangerous pitfalls of Gettysburg's monuments. Along the way we considered a number of questions. How for example, can public historians help visitors approach Civil War battlefields as commemorative, not historical, landscapes? And how can we assist those visitors in learning to read a monument?

The monuments are part of what makes Gettysburg such a compelling interpretive space. These huge hunks of carved stone, can tell us so much, but only if we approach them carefully. Arm a visitor with a tiny bit of knowledge, set them loose on the battlefield, and the monuments can confuse and misinform in a hurry. Take Culp's Hill, for example. Wind your way along the battlefield avenues, glimpsing the vast array of stone sculptures representing units from the 6th and 12th Corps, and you would never guess that on the evening of July 2nd, one lonely Union brigade fought a desperate fight in the trenches against a much larger foe.

Battlefield monuments often tell us more about the time that they were erected than they tell us about the battle. Confederate state monuments erected in the 1960s, for example, tell us more about the Civil Rights movement - and reactions to it - than they do about the soldiers who fought at Gettysburg. And yet, equipped with a good sense of the different eras of commemoration and a bit of background history on the monuments themselves, a visitor can learn a great deal. Many of the monuments at Gettysburg - particularly Union monuments - are primary sources placed on the battlefield by veterans. As such, they reveal exactly what those veterans wanted us to learn about their experience.

A great example  is the monument of the 121st Pennsylvania on Reynolds Avenue. The veterans of the 121st placed this memorial in the general area that they fought on July 1st on the extreme left flank of the First Corps line. This was not the first monument these veterans placed on this location. In 1886, they dedicated an eleven-foot-high granite shaft on the location, paid for by funds they raised on their own. The following year, the state of Pennsylvania awarded every regiment that fought at Gettysburg $1500 to erect a monument on the field. And so, in 1888, the 121st survivors had the original monument moved to a secondary location on Hancock Avenue, and replaced it with the more impressive one we see on Reynolds Avenue today.

Several features of the Reynolds Avenue monument stand out. The die of the monument is designed to represent a large knapsack with blanket roll on top. The monument also contains bronze representations of the accoutrements of a soldier: a kepi, sword, musket, cartridge box and bayonet. The state seal and a circle (the symbol of the First Corps) show the regiment's affiliations. Finally, two interesting details set the monument apart from some of the more basic memorials on the field: a depiction of a bursting shell in the upper left corner, and an American flag draped over the upper right corner. Both of these details tell us a part of the 121st's experience at Gettysburg.

During the afternoon of July 1st, the men suffered severely from artillery fire, particularly rounds fired from Confederate batteries on Oak Hill. With little cover in the fields north of the Fairfield Road, and enfiladed by those Oak Hill batteries, the regiment shifted positions multiple times in an effort to gain some measure of protection. In depicting an exploding shell on the monument, the veterans told future generations that the awful experience of shells exploding in their midst remained one of their primary recollections of their experience 25 years later.

Later that afternoon, The 121st was outflanked and driven back in confusion, first to the Lutheran Seminary, and eventually through town after a brief last-ditch stand. Writing his report on the regiment's engagement while still on the battlefield the following day, Major Alexander Biddle highlighted the conduct of his Color-Sergeant:

I beg particularly to call attention to the meritorious conduct of Sergeant [William] Hardy, color-bearer, who carried off the regimental colors, the staff shot to pieces in his hands.

In his book, Gettysburg: Stories of Men and Monuments as Told by Battlefield Guides, LBG Fred Hawthorne relates that Sergeant Hardy stopped to pick up a roofing shingle while retreating through town on July 1st. He used the shingle to splice together the shattered pieces of the flag pole. For the rest of the war, this spliced together pole reminded the men of the regiment of their horrific experience at Gettysburg, where the regiment suffered an astounding 70% casualty rate. 

Today, the image of the flag of the regiment, draped over the monument without a staff, along with the exploding shell, show us what the veterans of the 121st remembered about their experience at Gettysburg. Their monument stands as a testament to these stories, reflecting what they wanted us to learn about when we visited the site of their engagement. Speaking at the dedication of the monument on Pennsylvania Day in 1889, Captain Joseph Rosengarten pronounced: 

Leaving to others the general record and history of the war for the Union, let us strive to preserve every name and every deed that forms part of our record as a regiment, content in this, as we were in war, to do our duty without fear or favor.... The record of the One hundred and twenty-first is perpetuated on the memorial which we dedicate to-day, and it is one of which the survivors have just reason to be honestly proud.

So how can we encourage visitors to approach the Gettysburg battlefield as a commemorative landscape? First, we must get them to understand that the monuments have a history of their own. To accurately understand the meaning of a monument, you must know who placed it, why they placed it, and when they placed it. In understanding the motivations of the group that placed a monument, and the period of history during which it was placed, you can begin to unlock a monument's meaning and historical context. Just like any other source, monuments can tell us a great deal if we can place them within the proper historical framework.

Pennsylvania Day

Pennsylvania Day program from the archives of the National Museum of American History.

The morning dawned with a faint hope that the nor'easter had passed. The pelting rains of the previous day had already made many of the roads a muddy quagmire. Tthe dark gray clouds and chill winds looked ominous, and yet the mounted aides dashing about seemed to indicate that the march would come off as planned. Regiments had begun to organize themselves when, sometime between 10 and 11 a.m., the winds picked up and the rain began to fall. General David McMurtrie Gregg had seen enough, and issued the necessary orders. The parade of veterans was off.

The weather had not fully cooperated with the Pennsylvanians on their day of days, and even before the parade's cancellation the railroad depots faced a crush of veterans and spectators. As each train sped away packed to full capacity, those remaining in town sought whatever shelter they could to get in out of the downpour. The long anticipated Grand Parade being off, the Gettysburg Compiler noted, "the one desire on all sides was to get away, and the formal exercises...attracted a comparatively small audience." It was a quiet end to what had been several action packed days in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

The crowds had begun to swell earlier in the week. A dispatch sent to the Bradford Era on Tuesday, September 10th observed: "All day long veterans from the eastern and central portions of the State have been marching from the depots to camps." It estimated that the crowd might reach 50,000 by Thursday. Reporting after the festivities had concluded, the Star and Sentinel gave an estimate of 20-40,000, while The Compiler settled on 30,000.

They had all come to celebrate Pennsylvania Day. Among the throng were roughly 10,000 veterans, brought to Gettysburg via free transportation provided by the state of Pennsylvania. The rest consisted of family members, dignitaries, and general spectators who wanted in on the big event. "There was scarcely a house in town," The Compiler reported, "that did not in some way contribute to the entertainment of the visitors, and many of them got quarters in farm houses within a radius of several miles around the place."

Wednesday, September 11 - Veterans' Day - featured the dedication of 46 regimental monuments all over the field. From morning to evening, the town buzzed with the activity of regimental associations moving through town out to the various dedications, even when the driving rainstorm set in that afternoon. That evening was devoted to eating, drinking, music, and story telling. The Compiler claimed that the supply of provisions at the eateries in town held out. "The supply of wet goods was also equal to the occasion," it added, "the malt product being in general favor." Despite the merry-making, law enforcement managed to maintain good order, and the Star & Sentinel reported that no arrests were made, "except for drunkenness."

Thursday, despite the rush to get out of town, the formal ceremony slated for 1:30 went off, though the venue moved from the National Cemetery to the rink, a long, low building in town frequently used for balls and other festivities. The venue could hold nearly 3,000, but many estimated the crowd at less than half of that. Even the presiding officer, Colonel George Meade Jr., cancelled due to illness. The program featured Governor James A Beaver, an address on the first day of the battle delivered by Brevet Capt. Joseph Rosengarten (aide-de-camp of Maj. Gen. Reynolds), and an address on the final two days of the battle given by Brevet Brig. Gen. Henry Bingham (Major on Maj. Gen. Hancock's staff). The Pennsylvania monuments were officially transferred to the Battlefield Memorial Association, and Edward McPherson accepted them on the Association's behalf.

To many who participated, these couple of days in Gettysburg seemed like a last great gathering on the battlefield. As the Star & Sentinel explained it:

It was a common remark among the veterans that never again would there be upon the field of Gettysburg so many of the men who actually fought here; every year, every month, even every week, sees their ranks thinned by death, and the time is not many years distant when the last of them shall have answered the final roll-call. For this reason, there was a peculiar fervor in all the exercises and a lingering reluctance to part, perhaps forever.

It also seemed like one last opportunity to mark in stone the importance of this place. "Gettysburg was never so crowded with people," The Star & Sentinel proclaimed, "and we trust it never will be so again."

While the reports seemed to indicate a passing of an era - the case was overstated. In another column on the same page that it lamented the fading of the veterans, the Star & Sentinel noted that the 48th, 140th, and 150th New York had arrived in town to dedicate monuments. It went on to remind its readers that the Maine Monument Commission would arrive in early October to dedicate its monuments on the field.

Great gatherings of veterans would continue to come, through the 1890s, and into 20th century. For New York Day, for the dedication of the Pennsylvania Memorial, and for the 50th anniversary. And even when the veterans did fade away, the visitors would not. Just as Lincoln underestimated our ability to mark the importance of his words at the dedication of the National Cemetery, the Star & Sentinel underestimated the power of this memorial field that the veterans had created. Despite the paper's prediction that Pennsylvania Day in 1889 would be Gettysburg's biggest and last hurrah, today the borough of Gettysburg draws nearly 20,000 alone for bike week, and many thousands more for the annual battle anniversary. And in this year, the 150th since the battle of Gettysburg, it is estimated that nearly 4 million people will flock to the fields outside of town.

Today, this program for Pennsylvania Day tells us the story of one of the great veteran reunions at Gettysburg, where 46 monuments were dedicated, and the weather just wouldn't cooperate. More than that, it shows us the importance that those Pennsylvania veterans, and their comrades from other states, placed on the hallowed ground of Gettysburg, and how they wanted their youthful deeds to stand here for all time, etched in stone. In their efforts to memorialize their service, they created a sacred site unequaled in the United States.

The 2nd Fire Zouaves - Part Two

On July 2nd, 1893 - the 30th anniversary of the battle - survivors of the 73rd New York gathered in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania with other veteran New Yorkers to dedicate a monument honoring the service of the Excelsior Brigade at Gettysburg.

Excelsior Brigade Monument at Gettysburg. Photo by Jen Goellnitz. Creative Commons Licensing.

The cornerstone had been laid on the 25th anniversary of the battle in 1888. The five-sided base of the monument featured a plaque on each face dedicated to telling the role played by one of the five Excelsior regiments (70th through 74th New York). Above the base, five polished granite pillars supported a dome surmounted by a bronze eagle. In the center of the five pillars sat a pedestal that remains empty today. Newspaper accounts at the time of the dedication suggested that a bust of Dan Sickles would be placed on the empty pedestal after his death. In 1913--just before he passed away--Sickles was expelled from the New York Monument Commission because of an inability to account for thousands of dollars that had gone missing from the monument fund. His bust was never placed within this monument.

The Excelsior Brigade's memorial is fairly unique. Many of its regiments were initially stationed in reserve on July 2nd, and as a result they did not really fight as a unit in brigade line at Gettysburg, each regiment being parceled out where need was greatest. When it came time to build their memorials, each regiment's veterans' association had the funds to erect their own. They didn't, choosing instead to pool their resources and dedicate a $7,500 monument in a centralized location. Speaking at the dedication in 1893, General Henry Tremain explained why:

As our five regiments were always united in service and in sentiment, it was fitting that their survivors should unite in consolidating their interests in this enduring monument. May it help to perpetuate the memory of the Excelsior Brigade, and of the sturdy soldiers of which it was composed.

73rd New York Monument. Note the Excelsior
Monument in background. Photo by Jen Goellnitz.
Creative Commons Licensing.

For the 70th, 71st, 72nd and 74th New York, this one impressive monument would represent all members of the Excelsior Brigade. The commemoration of the 73rd's Gettysburg service remained incomplete, however. Four years later, on September 6th, 1897, the survivors of the 73rd would return to Gettysburg to dedicate a monument of their very own. Why, after consciously deciding to join with their fellow Excelsiors in honoring their service as a whole, would these veterans decide to place their own separate regimental monument mere yards away from the brigade memorial? The monument itself can perhaps guide us to the answer.

Writing on the day following the dedication, Gettysburg's Star and Sentinel described the monument for its readers:

The monument is a handsome work of art, suggestive of the organization of the Regiment. Mr. Moretti's [the sculptor] conception of it is an admirable one. On the one hand is the figure of the firemam in his old-time uniform, adopted just after the movement became a municipal one, which produced a compact, disciplined force out of a rather chaotic and antagonistic one. One hand holds the trumpet in the easy rest of parade, while the other grasps the hand of his war-like double. It is worth noting as evidence of the careful workmanship on the part of the founders, that the strained muscles and ligaments of the hand betoken no lukewarm clasp. It is a hearty, vigorous grip which betokens cordiality. The other figure is that of a typical zouave. The jaunty cap and blue jacket trimmed with yellow braid, the baggy red trousers tucked in the white leggings, and the flannel shirt, with loosely knotted tie--all are there in faithful representation of the figure and type which was notable for characteristics in the troublesome war times. The faces are handsomely worked out and convey an expression of intelligence. The figures are of heroic size being almost eight feet in height including the plinth. Their attitude is one of graceful repose and suggestive of their best conditional moments.

The 70th, 71st, 72nd and 74th had one wartime identity: they were Excelsiors. The 73rd had two: they were Excelsiors, and they were the 2nd Fire Zouaves. While the Excelsior Brigade Monument honored the legacy of Sickles's famous brigade, it did not honor the Civil War legacy of the New York City Volunteer Firefighters. That legacy was a rich one - one that began with the 1st Fire Zouaves, the 11th New York, and its Colonel, Elmer Ellsworth,  who was killed by an Alexandria innkeeper in May of 1861.

The Volunteer Fire Department of New York passed out of existence at the conclusion of the Civil War, when the city professionalized the force in 1865. The 2nd Fire Zouaves monument tells us though that the monument was erected at the insistence of those former volunteer firefighters. A tablet on the left side of the monument reads:

The Second
Fire Zouaves

served with The Army of the Potomac and participated in its campaigns
from Yorktown 1862
to Appomattox 1865
Total enrollment 1350
Total casualties 711

Erected 1897

Known also as the Fourth Regiment of Sickles Excelsior Brigade

Volunteer Fire Department
New York City
Organized 1658 Disbanded 1865

This monument was erected at the instance of the volunteer fireman of the City of New York represented by the figure on the left in grateful recognition of the services rendered by the Second Fire Zouaves on this field in defense of the Union July 2 1863.

Clearly, this monument aims to tell the story of firefighters as well as soldiers. Yet the 2nd Fire Zouaves served on many battlefields over its four years of service, and the story of its fight at Gettysburg had already been told on a monument nearby. Why choose Gettysburg as the place for this monument? Why not New York City?

The answer to that question, can again be found by exploring what the veterans said themselves. Just as he had back in 1893, Henry Tremain served as one of the prominent speakers on dedication day in 1897. Today most Civil War enthusiasts know Tremain for his role in the Meade-Sickles controversy. He played a significant role on July 2nd as an aide to Sickles, and he played a significant (and unsavory role) in the defense of Dan Sickles after the battle. To the veterans of the 73rd though, Tremain was one of their own, and also the man who had led them to the front on July 2nd. His September 6th speech provides us many clues as to the rationale behind the monument at Gettysburg. He began: 

The first thought that comes to the lips of the survivors of the little band who followed me here on the afternoon of July 2, 1863, is one of satisfaction that the associations representing the volunteer firemen of New York City, the great body that inspired the organization of the Second Fire Zouaves, should have inaugurated and brought to successful culmination this monumental token of affectionate remembrance for their offspring; and, more than that, should have persuaded the Empire State to unite with them in an enduring tribute to the comrades who fell here, and to the patriotic conduct of the organizing constituency, as well as of the soldiers and officers, of the Second Fire Zouaves.

After unveiling the statue in the middle of his dedication, Tremain explained why Gettysburg was the most fitting place for this memorial:

The monuments in this National Park have come to be something more than personal tributes to the fallen heroes of this single field. They are accepted as signifying the careers of organizations. They represent men and their constituencies which labored in the cause which was to stand or to fall by the arbitrament of war. The inscriptions on the monuments around us, in telling much of what happened here, fortunately suggest other facts about the events they speak for. As you read these inscriptions in your strolls yesterday much of what happened elsewhere has been brought to your memory. Each survivor has been reminded that there were other experiences of other regiments not exactly the same as his own, but equally exacting in burdens, dangers and excitements as the experiences of this field. Justly, therefore do the inscriptions recall the whole four years during which the forces that collided here were combating for the mastery on hundreds of other fields.

By common consent this battlefield is to represent the fields of four years of war. These monuments at one battlefield are to represent all battlefields where the several factors assembled in this battle engaged in other battles against a common enemy and upheld a common cause. These monuments typify a world of history, a multitude of lives and a multitude of deaths.

There, as one of the last regimental monuments from the state of New York was dedicated, Tremain explained what the significance of the Gettysburg Battlefield had become. For many northerners, and certainly for veterans of the Army of the Potomac, the landscape at Gettysburg meant more than just a commemorative place to preserve the actions and stories of one battle. Gettysburg had become one large temple to the entire war effort. As such, it was the proper place to memorialize not only the 2nd Fire Zouaves - as the Excelsior Brigade monument had already done - but also the "constituencies" that inspired those soldiers, such as the Volunteer Fire Department of New York City. It is only in viewing the battlefield through this lens that we can begin to understand why the 2nd Fire Zouaves, and its constituencies, needed a second monument at Gettysburg.

The 2nd Fire Zouaves

The 73rd New York's monument at Gettysburg. Photo by fauxto_digital. Creative Commons Licensing.

One of the more interesting monuments at Gettysburg National Military Park is dedicated to the 73rd New York Infantry, also commonly referred to as the 2nd Fire Zouaves. Dedicated in 1897, the unique design of this monument aptly represents the 73rd's unique story. Today, the monument not only tells us that story, it also reveals how veterans viewed the commemorative landscape of Gettysburg in the late nineteenth century.

Raised in the summer of 1861 and serving through the entirety of the war, the 73rd New York consisted largely of New York City volunteer firefighters. The regiment was recruited among all the fire departments of the city, and each firefighter remained on the active roll of his department throughout his service. The regiment was raised along with four other New York units, all of which were brigaded together as the Excelsior Brigade under former congressman Dan Sickles. At Gettysburg, the Excelsiors served under the command of Colonel William Brewster in the 2nd division of Sickles's 3rd Corps.

On the afternoon of July 2nd, 1863 - the 73rd found  itself positioned in reserve to the north of the Trostle farm lane, supporting the advanced line along the Emmitsburg Road. As the battle rolled toward the Peach Orchard salient that evening, Major Henry Tremain of Sickles's staff (and originally a member in the 73rd) appeared in front of the regiment. Captain Frank Moran of Company H recalled the scene in an article in the National Tribune in 1890:

Maj. Tremaine, "of ours," of Sickle's staff, came toward us from the left at a gallop. We knew his message well before he reached us, and the men sprang into line, and facing left we moved toward the orchard at double-quick through a shower of bullets and bursting shells. The 114th Pa., stretched along the Emmitsburg road from the gate of the Sherfy house and past the barn, were hotly at work and sorely pressed, but facing their foes gallantly...

The 73rd came to a halt on high ground near the Wentz house in rear of the 114th, which had crossed to the west side of the Emmitsburg Road to engage Barksdale's Mississippians. Here the Excelsiors would have to wait until the 114th had cleared their front, though they began taking fire from the Mississippians. They did not have to wait long, for soon the 114th began to retreat northward up the road. The 73rd found itself facing the 13th and 17th Mississippi, and advanced against them. Moran continued:

The 73rd New York monument and the Sherfy Farm in the distance.
This area was an orchard in July of 1863. Note that the house dates
to the battle, but the original barn burned on July 3, 1863.
Photo by Michael Noirot. Creative Commons Licensing.

As the charging Mississippians rose to view above the crest, traversed at that point by the Emmitsburg road, we poured into their faces a hot and ringing volley that stretched them over the ground in scores. They staggered, but closed up, and with the familiar, "Hi-yi!" returned our fire and pressed forward with the savage courage of baited bulls....

The [federal] batteries...were belching shot, shell and grape into the faces of Longstreet's charging columns; showers of branches fell from the peach trees in the orchard in the leaden hurricane that swept it from two sides. Every door, window and sash of the Sherfy house was shivered to atoms. The barn close by was riddled like a sieve from base to roof, and cannon-shot at every instant split its boards and timbers into showers of kindling-wood....

Our little regiment was melting away fast in the deadly cross-fire, but stood to its work unflinchingly, and closed at last in semi-circle around its riddled flag. Our color-bearer was struck dead. A brave man instantly caught up the flag and waved it defiantly. A bullet shattered his arm in a few minutes, and a third man held it up. The men of my company fell dead and wounded beside me, and how Col. Burns, mounted on his conspicuous old white horse, escaped the bullets seemed miraculous.

But the fast melting line to our left grew perilously thin, and at last began to retire, while continuing the fire upon the heavy columns that Longstreet poured against the angle of the road and the lane.... The rebel infantry entered the orchard and we received their fire almost in our very backs. At last an officer of Humphreys's staff gave Col. Burns the order to retire toward the supports of Hancock, and the little remnant of the regiment, leaving their dead and dying under their feet, slowly retreated.

At this crisis an excited and bareheaded officer dashed up to us and implored us to help drag away a couple of imperiled guns, the horses having been all killed and the gunners shot. I called to a group near me, and we started after the officer at a run and back towards the front.

While Captain Moran and some of his men endeavored to recover the guns, a shell burst nearby and knocked him unconscious. When he awoke several minutes later her was a prisoner. Meanwhile, the rest of the regiment retreated back to its original position north of the Trostle farm lane and linked up with the rest of the Excelsior Brigade. Here they rallied and made a brief but doomed attempt to halt Barksdale's momentum. When that failed, they joined the retreat back toward Cemetery Ridge. In all, the Fire Zouaves lost 4 officers and 47 enlisted men killed, 11 officers and 92 enlisted men wounded, and 8 men missing - for a total of 162 casualties.

Like many other regiments at Gettysburg - the survivors of the 73rd New York would have the opportunity to dedicate two monuments to their service on the Gettysburg battlefield - one in 1893, and the other in 1897. I will take a look at these two monuments, and the dedicatory exercises around them, in a post later this week.

The Civil War in St. Louis

When I travel to new places I am always on the look out for interesting history. In the past few years I've been able to explore a bit of the history of St. Louis, a city I first visited back in 2009. Since then I've had the pleasure of taking several extended trips to the city, visiting my soon-to-be in-laws at Christmas and New Years for the past three years.

At Christmas in 2011 we visited the Missouri History Museum in Forest Park to take in a special exhibit, The Civil War in Missouri. This show, which is still on view through this coming June, does an excellent job showcasing the divisions the Civil War brought to Missouri.

This time around, I went to St. Louis planning to utilize the Missouri History Museum again to help me discover more about the city's wartime history. Earlier this year  I had downloaded the museum's The Civil War in St. Louis app, which is free for your iPhone. The app is designed to be a multimedia walking and driving tour of St. Louis's Civil War sites. It is based on the book The Civil War in St. Louis by William C. Winter. As we prepared for our annual trip, I began to explore the app a bit at home, to determine if it would be worth spending part of a day taking the tour. Unfortunately, many of the sites no longer stand, and given our full schedule I decided against the tour.

On the other hand, we often travel all around the city during our visits, and I knew the app contained a GPS enabled map. So throughout the week, as we zipped around the city for various activities, I sat in the back seat of the car with the app open, seeing what sites we might pass. There's a lot of great content in this program, but it is very buggy. It moves slowly and crashes frequently.

The app did help me make a few discoveries. During the week we passed by the Old Courthouse and the site of Camp Jackson, where on May 10, 1861 Captain Nathaniel Lyon surrounded a pro-Confederate militia, forcing them to surrender and thus securing St. Louis for the Union. On our way to First Night festivities we passed by the site of the U.S. Corral, where the Cavalry Bureau trained over 50,000 horses for service in 1863.

My most interesting discovery during the week though was two monuments located in Forest Park, just a few hundred yards away from the Missouri History Museum and a stone's throw from one another. These two monuments speak strongly to the divided nature of the war years in St. Louis, and also to the struggle over the memory of the war.

During the war, St. Louis was a city with divided loyalties. Many residents had southern roots. Yet the growth of finance and industry before the war created many strong ties to the North, and St. Louis's expanding population of German-born Americans remained staunchly Unionist and antislavery. The first monument we ran across spoke to this population of German immigrants - it was an equestrian statue of General Franz Sigel.

General Franz Sigel Statue in Forest Park, St. Louis.

Sigel obtained his first military experience in his home nation of Baden, and participated in the 1848 Revolution. When the Revolution was suppressed, Sigel fled, eventually settling in New York in 1852. He made a name for himself in the German-American community, writing for the New Yorker Staats-Zeitung and the New York Times. In 1857, Sigel moved to St. Louis, and at the outbreak of the war proved instrumental in rallying German-born Americans to enlist. He became a Colonel in the 3rd Missouri and fought under Lyon. In August of 1861 he was promoted to Brigadier General, a position he earned in no small part to his value as a recruiter of German-Americans. Sigel served throughout the Civil War, but never gained much success as a military commander.

The statue was unveiled in 1906. It was sculpted by German Robert Cauer and cast at the Lauchhammer Foundery in Lauchhammer, Germany. The inscription at the base of the monument reads: "To remind future generations of the heroism of German-American patriots in St. Louis and vicinity in the Civil War of 1861-1865. General Franz Sigel."

Nearby, we came across the Confederate Memorial in Forest Park. At first, I was somewhat surprised to find a Confederate Memorial here. Missouri divisions ran deep, but St. Louis remained a Union stronghold throughout the war, despite the presence in the city of southern sentiments. When we arrived at the monument though, I began to understand: this monument, dedicated in 1914, sought to set in stone (quite literally) the Lost Cause mythology of the war.

Confederate Memorial, Forest Park, St. Louis.

The statue features bronze statuary depicting a southern family sending a young man off to war, above which sits a relief carving of the "Angel Spirit of the Confederacy." The back side of the 23 foot tall memorial features two engraved quotations. The first was written by Robert Cattlett Cave, a St. Louis minister who had served as a Virginia soldier in the war:

To the Memory of the Soldiers and Sailors of the Southern Confederacy.

Who fought to uphold the right declared by the pen of Jefferson and achieved by the sword of Washington. With sublime self sacrifice they battled to preserve the independence of the states which was won from Great Britain, and to perpetuate the constitutional government which was established by the fathers.

Actuated by the purest patriotism they performed deeds of prowess such as thrilled the heart of mankind with admiration. 'Full in the front of war they stood' and displayed a courage so superb that they gave a new and brighter luster to the annals of valor. History contains no chronicle more illustrious than the story of their achievements; and although, worn out by ceaseless conflict and overwhelmed by numbers, they were finally forced to yield, their glory, 'on brightest pages penned by poets and by sages shall go sounding down the ages.'

The inscription oozes Lost Cause mythology at its finest. We did not fight to protect slavery, this monument states, but rather to protect the right of self government guaranteed by the Declaration and the Constitution. And, it continues, we would have won if not for overwhelming numbers. If one inscription does not drive the point home - another inscription quotes Robert E. Lee:

We had sacred principles to maintain and rights to defend for which we were duty bound to do our best, even if we perished in the endeavor.

After viewing the monument, I hoped to find out more about how it came to be when I returned to New York. So far I have yet to locate any newspaper coverage of the construction and dedication, but I have found some information about the monument in Katharine T. Corbett's In Her Place: A Guide to St. Louis Women's History, published in 1999. The monument was dedicated on December 5, 1914, and was funded by the Ladies Confederate Monument Association of the United Daughters of the Confederacy. It's construction came not without a bit of controversy though. It took several years of advocacy on the part of the UDC to succeed in placing the monument. Government officials objected to any memorial that commemorated Confederate military forces.

Confederate Memorial, Forest Park, St. Louis.

To get around this injunction, the UDC held a public competition calling for designs that did not depict a soldier in Confederate uniform, nor any object of modern warfare. Models of each submission were displayed in the new St. Louis Public Library. George Julian Zolnay's winning design - with it's young man in civilian clothing headed off to war - met the requirements. The UDC raised the $23,000 for the monument and presented it as a gift to the city. Not wanting to expend any money on a monument to treasonous Americans, city councilmen passed an ordinance requiring the UDC to pay for the upkeep on the monument.

By 1914, the Lost Cause version of the Civil War was in the ascendancy. The following year would bring the release of Birth of a Nation. In 1917, the Virginia Memorial would be dedicated at Gettysburg, the first of the Confederate state monuments on the battlefield.

Today, the Confederate Memorial that stands in Forest Park not only honors the memory of the soldiers and sailors of the Confederacy. It also stands as a testament to the effort to win the battle over the memory and to rewrite the meaning of the war. Taken together with the monument to Sigel that stands not too far away - it reminds us that St. Louis was a divided city during (and after) the Civil War.