Posts Tagged ‘1864’

Spotsylvania Court House

May 12, 2012

Lee spots Grant moving toward the Spotsylvania Court House.

Lee’s men repel Grant’s attacks.

May 12th, the Union Army makes Grand Assault and fails, losing thousands of men.

Grant Dispatch: “I propose to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer.”

*****

HIGH LIGHTS OF HISTORY –  Spotsylvania Court House
By J. CARROLL MANSFIELD

Davenport Democrat and Leader (Davenport, Iowa) Aug 29, 1928

History.com has a great website commemorating the Civil War 150 Years anniversary. See The Five Deadliest Battles.

The Traitorous Copperheads (aka “Peace” Democrats)

May 24, 2010

THE COPPERHEAD’S DREAM.

A Copperhead one evening lay,
After the labors of the day,
And mused on chances of success,
And of the future strove to guess.
He’d envied every office holder,
and now, perhaps, grown somewhat bolder,
Thought that without some dire mishap
He’d get a share of public pap,
And with his golden hopes elated,
He ever pro and con debated;
He thought o’er every plot and scheme,
Then slept, and dreamt a pleasing dream.

He dreamt to office — when elected —
No more he loyalty affected,
But in his sinecure secure,
He had the loaves and fishes sure,
He in his office stretched at ease,
Had nought to do but pocket fees.
He dressed up in the height of fashion,
(For finery he had a passion),
Then tired of lounging, strutted ’round
As Fortunatus’ purse he’d found.
His quondam friends, when e’er he met,
(He quickly learned how to forget),
Especially the Union party,
(To whom his greeting once was hearty),
He gave a very frigid shoulder,
As well became an office holder;
And — tho’ for this his cronies praised him —
Kicked down the ladder that had raised him.

The noise it made was such a smasher,
That, like the basket of Alnaschar*,
It woke him up. Alas! ’twas day,
His dream of spoils had passed away,
Black night had raised its sable curtain,
And brought him back his state uncertain.
He rose, and girded up his loins,
And feeling no ways gay or frisky,
Went and bummed a little whisky.

Klamath Facts and Figures.

The Golden Era – Sep 10, 1865

Title: The Stanford Dictionary of Anglicised Words and Phrases
Editors: Charles Augustus Maude Fennell, John Frederick Stanford
Publisher: University press, 1892

COPPERHEAD SNAKES

Hide your mean heads from the light of the sun,
Smite your base hearts with conscience’s lashes,
Blush if you can for the deeds you have done.
Weep for the aid you have given to traitors,
Do let repentance illumine your souls;
Souls? if you had them your crimes would be greater,
Snakes of humanity crawl to your holes.
Brazen-faced Copperheads,
White-livered Copperheads,
Crawl to your holes!

You that incited rebellion and treason;
You that have aided it all that you can;
You that have fought against conscience and reason,
And all of the rights that are sacred to man,
Hark! — through the land, from each tower and steeple,
The knell of rebellion most solemnly tolls!
Flee from the scorn of intelligent people;
Noisome serpents — bah! crawl to your holes.
Crimson-faced Copperheads,
Rum-sucking Copperheads,
Traitorous Copperheads,
Crawl to your holes.

Now when the moon of rebellion is setting,
Why do you struggle and fight against fate?
Can you not cease your complaining and fretting?
Try to be men ere you find it too late.
The tide running northward in haste is retiring,
The wave urged by freemen triumphantly rolls,
The time has gone by for your plots and conspiring —
Reptiles and renegrades return to your holes.
Venomous Copperheads,
Low, sneaking Copperheads,
Vile, hissing Copperheads,
Crawl to your holes!

Village Record (Franklin Co., PA) Sep 16, 1864

NOTE: I ran across a couple of versions of the above poem.

Felix Grundy

Old Description of a Copperhead

In one of the speeches made during the last war with Great Britain, by Felix Grundy, of Tennessee, occurs the following description of a thorough-going Copperhead, as seen at the present day:

“An individual goes over, joins the ranks of the enemy, and raises his arms against his country; he is clearly guilty of treason under the Constitution, the act being consummated. Suppose the same individual not to go over to the enemy, but to remain in his own neighborhood, and, by means of his influence, to dissuade ten men from enlisting; I ask in which case has he benefited the enemy and injured the country most!”

Again, he says, in answering the question, whom, then, do I accuse?

“I accuse him, sir, who professes to be the friend of his country, and enjoys its protection, yet proves himself by his actions to be the friend of its enemy. I accuse him who sets himself to work systematically to weaken the arm of the Government, by destroying its credit and dampening the ardor of its citizens; I accuse him who has used his exertions to defeat the loan and prevent the young men of the country from going forth to fight their country’s battles; I accuse him who announces with joy the disasters of our arms, and sinks into melancholy when he hears of our success. Such men I cannot consider friends to this nation.”

Mr. Grundy was a model Democrat, in his day, we believe. Copperheadism does not seem to have been “Democracy” then. But “the fathers” were in darkness. The gospel of the new church had not opened its light upon them. Oulds and Vallandigham were not.

The Tioga County Agitator (Wellsborough, PA) May 4, 1864

DIALOGUE. — UNCLE SAM — SECESH — COPPERHEAD.

Secesh — Stoop down here, Uncle!

Uncle Sam — What for, Secesh?

Secesh — I want to cut your throat!

Uncle Sam — Guess not. It don’t want cutting.

Copperhead — Yes, stoop down, Uncle!

Uncle Sam — What! do you, too, want to cut my throat?

Copperhead — O, no — never! I wouldn’t do such a thing for the world! I only want to hold your arms pinioned behind your back while Secesh cuts it. That’s very different, you see!

Uncle Sam — No, I don’t see it.

N.Y. Tribune.

Morning Oregonian (Portland, Oregon) Sep 16, 1863

CURIOUS WILL

A will found at Port Royal, recently, by some Union soldiers there, presents a fact not often set forth out of DIXIE. The testator, John Cooper, of Caroline county, Va., gives his property to his wife and daughter, but to do this he is compelled to emancipate his wife, who was his slave, and thereby — according to aristocratic Virginia practice — legitimatize his bastard daughter, born of the aforesaid slave. Will some of our Copperhead Democrats please favor us with a lecture on amalgamation?

Morning Oregonian (Portland, Oregon) Jul 24, 1863

Anna Etheridge: A Civil War Heroine

May 23, 2010

Anna Etheridge (Image from http://civilwarlogowear.com)

A Heroine.

There is in the 3d Michigan Infantry a real heroine of the war, Anna Etheridge by name. Her father was formerly a man of wealth and influence in Detroit, and Anna in early youth was reared in the lap of luxury, but misfortune overtook him, and broken down in fortune and spirit, he removed to Wisconsin, where he died, leaving our heroine, at the age of 12 years, penniless and almost friendless. At the outbreak of the rebellion she was in Detroit on a visit, and with nineteen other girls volunteered to accompany the 2d and 3rd Michigan Regiments to the seat of war, as nurses. All the others have long since abandoned the field, but she manifests her determination to remain with her regiment until it returns home. She has been with it in nearly every fight — not to the rear, but to the front, under fire, where she assists the wounded as they fall, and has doubtless been the means of saving many valuable lives.

She is provided with a horse, and when the battle commences, gallops to the front, and there remains until it is ended. when the regiment or brigade to which she is attached moves, she rides with the surgeons, or ambulance train, and at the bivouac takes her blanket and sleeps on the ground like a true soldier. So far she has made several narrow escapes — at one time while engaged dressing a man’s wounds on the field, a shell striking him and tearing his body to atoms.

At Bull Run, unaided, she removed a number of our wounded, under a cross fire, to a place of safety, staying by them until after our rear guard of cavalry had left, when she made her way on foot to Centreville, walking in the night, and evading the enemy, who were all around her. General Birney, at one time her commander, mentions her for distinguished bravery in general orders, and cause her to be decorated with the Cross of Honor, which she prominently wears. Gen. Berry, at on time commanding a brigade to which she was attached, spoke of her as having been under as hot a fire from the enemy as himself. She is scarcely ever absent from the command, where she is in camp, usually superintending the cooking, &c., at brigade or division headquarters.

From her association of the last three years it would be natural to suppose she would lose much of her femininity of character, which she has not. She is quiet, modest, and unreproachable in deportment, and exemplary in character — no vulgar word passes her lips. She is 24 years of age, 5 feet 3 inches in height, complexion fair, though now much bronzed, hair light and cut short, and altogether decidedly good looking. She has numerous tokens and letters of acknowledgment from those she has assisted at perilous times, one of which, just shown to me, is a letter from a dying private of an Ohio regiment, containing expression of the most heartfelt gratitude for her efforts to save his life at a time when surgeons and others passed him by, refusing him assistance. It contained a pressed flower, which, he remarked, was all he had to give, “precious to him as the gift of a sainted mother.”

The Adams Centinel (Gettysburg, PA)- Aug 23, 1864

NOTE: In the above 1963 article, it states Anna received a clerkship in Washington D.C.,  to help care for her aged father, while in the first article, it states he was dead. I located her in the 1870 and 1880 censuses, which show her living with Charles Hooks, her husband, and listed as a housewife. She did receive a pension for her work during the war. I suppose she could have had the clerkship before she married,  while taking care of her father, as oftentimes some of the details in articles turn out to be incorrect.

A NOTE FROM MRS. F.T. HAZEN.

After one of the numerous skirmishes Annie was missed. The boys who loved her so well, immediately reported to Sheridan that Annie must have been taken prisoner. Sheridan answered “No, I do not think so, she must be attending to our wounded;” but immediately mounted his horse and rode as near the enemy’s lines as possible; using his field-glass he discovered Annie in their camp.

He rode back to the boys, and, pointing in the direction from which he had come, said, “Boys, Annie is there.” Without further command or order there was a general rush to the rescue. A triumphant rescue it was, for they returned not only with Annie, but the boys who had been taken prisoners with her.

Title: Our Army Nurses
Author: Mary Gardner Holland
Publisher: B. Wilkins & Co., 1895
pages 596-600 (Google book LINK)

TO MISS ANNA ETHERIDGE,
THE HEROINE OF THE WAR.

Hail, heroine of the battle-field!
Sweet angel of a zeal divine!
Hail, maiden, whose device and shield,
Sculptured in tears and prayers, will shine,
On Love’s eternal column reared
In memory of the martyred dead,
To be, through coming time, revered,
And sacred to the pilgrim’s tread!

Hail, dauntless maid! whose shadowy form,
Borne like a sunbeam on the air,
Swept by amid the battle-storm,
Cheering the helpless sufferers there,
Amid the cannon’s smoke and flame,
The earthquake roar of shot and shell,
Winning, by deeds of love, a name
Immortal as the brave who fell.

Hail, angel! whose diviner spell
Charmed dying heroes with her prayer,
Stanching their wounds amid the knell
Of death, destruction, and despair.
Thy name by memory shall be wreathed
Round many desolate hearts in prayer;
By orphan lips it shall be breathed,
And float in songs upon the air.

And History’s pages shall embalm
The heroine’s deeds in lines of fire;
Her life shall prove a hallowed charm,
And every loyal heart inspire.
Press on, press on! in glory move!
Unfading laurels shall be thine
To gem the victor-crown of Love,
And sparkle in the realms divine!

Also from the same book:

Many and many a soldier owes his life to “gentle Anna’s” intrepidity. More than once, when the troops showed signs of retreating, she rushed to the front, seized the colors, and rallied them to a charge, shaming many into doing their duty.

Title: WOMEN OF THE WAR THEIR HEROISM AND SELF-SACRIFICE
Author: FRANK MOORE
Published: 1866
pages 513-518 (Google book LINK)

Title: Session laws
Author: United States
Publisher: G.P.O., 1887 (Google book LINK)

YesterYear for Christmas

December 22, 2009

Thomas Nast illustration, Harper's Weekly

Image from Cannonba!! at York Blog (local history section)

HEART CHIMES IN HOLLY TIME.

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO CAPT. CHARLES L. EASAM, 15th REG. KY. VOLL.

We are waiting, brother, patiently awaiting
To feel thy fond, fond kiss upon our cheek;
And breathe the welcome words we fain would speak
To thee — the hero, who the tide of battle
Strong, hast breasted since the last time greeting.
We are waiting, patiently awaiting.

We are waiting, brother, hopefully awaiting,
Within our dear old home the childhood light
Is burning cheerily for thee to-night.
Seasons are weary since our New Year parting,
And changes many since our last fond meeting.
We are waiting, hopefully awaiting.

We are waiting, brother, anxiously awaiting,
Ever through the long, long night we’re pining.
Thou comest not while stars are sweetly shining,
Nor yet at morning in the glory light.
And when the sunshine and the day is waning
We are waiting, anxiously awaiting.

We are waiting, brother, tearfully awaiting,
White as snow, thy mother’s cheek is failing
While listening to the chill wind wailing.
The Christmas hearth-lights burn but dimly — faintly!
Cold dew-damps gather fast, and hope is dying.
We are waiting, tearfully awaiting.

Hark! hear the watch dog bark! we are not waiting!
We hear a manly voice so soft and tender —
We raise our own to meet thy dark eyes splendor —
That heart beat — then Christmas chime is sweeter,
Lights are brighter and the hearth stone, glowing.
Thank God! we are not waiting, vainly waiting.

Yes, we are waiting, hopelessly awaiting.
A messenger came with that cruel letter:
Be patient, mother dear. I am not coming;
No leave of absence yet — no home returning.”
For me no Christmas chimes, no hearth light burning.
Only waiting, hopelessly awaiting.

Dear brother, through this agony of waiting,
“While the old year lies a dying” — waiting!
Other forms we love may come without thee!
Thy vacant place, ah! none can fill it!
Thy voice is silent — again to hear it!
God grant we may not thus be ever waiting!

SALLIE J. HANCOCK, of Kentucky.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Jan 9, 1864

From the Wilkesbarre Democrat.

A PARODY.

Turkies! who on Christmas bled,
Turkies! who on corn have fed,
Welcome to us now you’re dead,
And in the frost have hung.

“Now’s the day and now’s the hour,”
Through the market how we scour,
Seeking Turkies to devour,
Turkies old and young.

Who would be a Turkey hen;
Fed and fatten’d in a pen —
Kill’d and ate by hungry men; —
Can you tell, I pray?

Lay the proud old Turkies low,
Let the young ones run and grow,
To market they’re not fit to go,
Till next Christmas day.

The Adams Sentinel (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Dec 27, 1831

CHRISTMAS DAY.

Let this day see all wrongs forgiven,
Let peace sit crowned in every heart;
Let bitter words be left unsaid,
Let each one take his brother’s part;
Let sad eyes learn again to smile, —
A day is such a little while, —
Of all days this the shortest!

Let rich and poor together meet,
While words of kindness fill the air;
Let love spread roses in the way,
Though winter reigneth everywhere;
Let us know naught of craft or guile,
A day is such a little while, —
Of all days this the shortest!

Let us help, each with loving care,
Our brothers on the way to Heaven;
Let’s lay aside all selfishness;
Let pride from every heart be driven,
Let Christmas-day bring many a smile, —
A day is such a little while, —
Of all days this the shortest.

Indiana Weekly Messenger (Indiana, Pennsylvania) Dec 22, 1880

The Christmas Jubilee.

We can almost hear the chiming
Of the joyous Christmas bells;
Almost feel the mirth and gladness
That the Christmas tide foretells.
We can almost hear the echo
From Judea’s distant plain;
Almost hear the bursts of music
That will float in sweet refrain.

Everywhere in expectation
Hearts are beating with delight,
And in childhood’s happy kingdom
Every eye is beaming bright.
Soon the dawn will be upon us
As from out the night it wells,
And the earth will hear the music
Of the merry Christmas bells.

Soon the wondrous star of glory
Will illume the Eastern sky,
And the angel bands of heaven
Will sing paeans from on high.
Soon the story of the manger
Will be heard throughout the earth,
And each heart will leap with gladness
O’er a loving Savior’s birth.

Soon the chiming bells of Christmas
Will be ringing sweet and clear,
Pealing forth the joyful message
To all nations, far and near.
Soon the lofty dome of heaven
Will resound with music sweet,
As the bells of earth exultingly
The old-time song repeat.

Hail we then the joyful Christmas —
Happiest time of all the year —
With its sweet and ringing music,
With its mirth and boundless cheer.
Every lip is singing praises;
Every fireside rings with glee;
Every heart is shouting “welcome!”
To the Christmas jubilee.

— G.C. RHODERICK, JR., in Middletown Register.

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 21, 1891

Yule-Tide in Many Lands

by Mary P. Pringle and Clara A. Urann 1916

Chapter IXYule-Tide in America

Curious Wreath

December 18, 2009

CURIOUS WREATH

A wreath is exhibited at a fair in Gloucester, Mass., this Christmas week, that is composed of the hair of one hundred different residents of that town, none of whom is under seventy years of age, while ten of them are over ninety, and one of them is a centenarian. The lady who made it is fifty, and has been four years about it.

The Adams Sentinel (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Jan 5, 1864

Coughing up a Confederate Ball of Cast-Iron

February 17, 2009
William J. Bolton

William J. Bolton

This first article I found after the one that follows about General Bolton coughing up the Confederate bullet. I found it interesting in that it seems the Democrats used similar campaign tactics in this past current election as were used back in 1880 (finding so-called Republicans who were “in the bag” for their candidate).

MONTGOMERY COUNTY HANCOCK MEN. —

Montgomery county is getting a good deal of newspaper notoriety because it is the birthplace of Hancock, and one or two of its leading Republican citizens have declared their intention to vote for the Democratic nominee for President. The West Chester Village Record strikes at the matter in this manner: At the same time that it is ludicrous, and therefore, somewhat entertaining, the persistency of the discouraged Hancock press in trying to find recruits among the Republicans of Montgomery county becomes rather tiresome. The fact that there are not or [of?] any consequence has been perfectly demonstrated for some time, but the Philadelphia Times, after having made several efforts, sent a reporter up to Norristown, a few days ago, to attempt something heroic. He was determined, probably, to bring back a bagful of names, if he had to copy them off tomb-stones. The result was that he came in with four names and lots of padding. Among the four, of course, were Dr. Read and George Bultock, who must be getting somewhat fatigued by this time at their perpetual elevation on Democratic poles, as captives from the Republicans, and the other two were General W.J. Bolton and Mr. B.E. Chain.

Winfield S. Hancock

Winfield S. Hancock

It now proves that General Bolton is not for Hancock after all, and he publishes a vigorous letter saying so; while Mr. Chain, though a loyal man during the war, has always been a Democrat, and his support of Hancock was, of course, to be expected. It must be remarked that the Times, in printing without any revision General Bolton’s earnest letter defining his position, makes a palpable mistake. It looks odd, of course, and so would the letters of most men without revision by the editor and care by the proof reader. But the force and clearness of the missive are not obscured; it is easily understood, and its distinct declaration that the writer is not to be caught in a Democratic trap, even with a Union General as bait, will not be misapprehended. We suggest, with much respect, to our esteemed contemporary, that if General Bolton had written to it, saying that he was for Hancock, pains would have been taken to put his letter in first-rate order for the compositor’s hands, and that such a discrimination tells as much as a whole chapter of confession.

General Bolton had few advantages of education, but he was a brave soldier, and sustained terrible wounds at Antietam; and if he does not write a perfectly-constructed and exactly-punctuated letter, he makes one that goes to the front — as his leadership did in battle eighteen years ago. Had he voted for Hancock, we should not have assailed him; as he votes, however, with the party that sustained the Union armies, we all the more rejoice at his sound sense. But it is not about time to admit that the Hancock recruits in Montgomery county are not forthcoming?

James A. Garfield

James A. Garfield

Even the General’s first cousins, Republicans all their lives, will vote for Garfield, and the county is as unshaken by the Cincinnati nomination as if any other man had been chosen to carry the Solid South’s banner.

The Bucks County Gazette (Bristol, Pennsylvania) Aug 12, 1880

Antietam

Antietam

After Seventeen Years.
[Special Dispatch to the Cincinnati Gazette.]

NORRISTOWN, May 22. — General Wm. Bolton was yesterday relieved of a Confederate bullet in his neck, which has been a source of pain for seventeen years past. While Colonel of the Fifty-first Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers, and awaiting orders on a mound at the time of the famous mine explosion at Petersburg, July 30, 1864, a Confederate canister shell exploded near him and a small bullet entered the lower right jaw at the very point where he had received a bullet wound some years previous at the battle of Antietam. Forty distinct incisions were made a few weeks later, but without success. Since then General Bolton has felt pain and oppression in his neck, especially during damp weather. Yesterday he had occasion to stoop while attending to a customer in his store, and was immediately taken with a violent fit of coughing. Placing his hand instinctively over his mouth, something dropped into his hand. On removing the blood and mucous covering  of the object he found it to be the painful little ball of Confederate cast-iron. It was covered with rust, weighed 273 grains Troy, and the surface was covered with sharp ridges.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) May 27, 1881

General Bolton of Norristown, carries a novel charm on his watch chain. It is the bullet which he received in the war and which he coughed up a short time ago.

Chester Daily Times (Chester, Pennsylvania) Jun 20, 1881

squiggle37

DEATH OF GEN. W.J. BOLTON.

Member of Vicksburg and Antietam Battlefield Commissions.

Philadelphia Aug. 2 — Brig Gen William J Bolton died to-day of heart failure, at the age of seventy-four years. Gen Bolton served through the civil war in the Fifty-first Pennsylvania Volunteers first as captain of a company and finally as colonel of the regiment, and was brevetted brigadier general. He was wounded at Antietam and at Petersburg. Gen Bolton was a member of the Vicksburg and Antietam battlefield commissions.

Washington Post, The (Washington, D.C.) Aug 3, 1906