Battle of Nueces

This article mentions a “battle” in Texas which is new to me – one guesses that anything under 50 casualties generally gets skipped in the narratives. Interesting to learn there was a pro-Union, German contingent in Texas during the war, though. We tend to think of the German immigration as being exclusively Northern. I wonder how much their influence was felt on that “every Southern state except SC had Union regiments” statistic.

All five major Civil War battles in Texas were fought along the coast – two at Galveston, two at Sabine Pass and one near Brownsville. But little is remembered about the discord the war caused. While people in and around Boerne and Fredericksburg opposed secession, those in the New Braunfels area, where Germans had lived in Texas longer and were sympathetic to states’ rights, supported it.

via Battle of Nueces event to recall conflicted Texas during Civil War – Houston Chronicle.

More Volck

I’m so excited to see this Adalbert Volck exhibition, which I mentioned in a previous update.  The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, of all papers, has this excellent biography of the man. (But, surprisingly, none of his cartoons.)

Volck lived nearly 50 years after the war’s end, dying in Baltimore in 1912. In a letter to the Library of Congress, which had acquired some of his etchings, Volck said a few years before his death that his “greatest regret ever was to have aimed ridicule at the great and good Lincoln.”

His remorse isn’t surprising. By the turn of the 20th century, the passions of the war years had cooled. Lincoln had become a symbol of national unity — the man who saved the Union. And many preferred to forget the unsettling role of race and slavery in bringing on the conflict and in the Reconstruction years that followed.

via Cartoonist for Confederacy made mockery of the Union – Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

St Louis in Wartime

I’d procrastinated on reading this article, mainly due to its length, but it’s a fascinating read and entertainingly written – well worth the investment in time. While it eventually settles down into an examination of the German immigrant population and its effect on the border state, it’s introduced by a look at the city that Sherman and Grant called home, and by this rather fabulous summary:

The leading city in one of the nation’s most populous slaveholding states, St. Louis was a strategic prize like no other. Not only the largest settlement beyond the Appalachians, it was also the country’s second-largest port, commanding the Mississippi River as well as the Missouri, which was then navigable as far upstream as what is now the state of Montana. It was the eastern gateway to the overland trails to California. Last but far from least, the city was home to the St. Louis Arsenal, the biggest cache of federal arms in the slave states, a central munitions depot for Army posts between New Orleans and the Rockies. Whoever held St. Louis held the key to the Mississippi Valley and perhaps even to the whole American West.

The city and its surrounding state stood at a crossroads between the cultures of the North and the South, between slavery and freedom, between an older America and a new one. The old Missouri flourished in the region known as Little Dixie, the rich alluvial lands where black field hands toiled in the hemp and cotton fields. The new one could be found in St. Louis, where block after block of red-brick monotony— warehouses, manufacturing plants, and office buildings—stretched for miles along the bluffs above the river. Each year, more than 4,000 steamboats shouldered up to the wharves, vessels with names like War Eagle, Champion, Belle of Memphis, and Big St. Louis. The smoke from their coal-fired furnaces mingled with the thick black clouds belching from factory smokestacks, so that on windless days the sun shone feebly through a dark canopy overhead.

(Hands up if you knew that “second largest port” fact. My hand is decidedly lowered!)

Old World Religion, New World Conflict

While Catholic soldiers always prove an interesting focus for research, the Catholic Church as an entity was uncharacteristically silent from 1861-5. As this article investigates, this may have been due to the Church having a dog(ma) in each side of the fight.

On the eve of the Civil War, as citizens were taking sides, and taking up arms, leading Unionists questioned where the Church stood on the issues of slavery and secession. In May 1861, the Third Provincial Council of Cincinnati attempted to clarify the Catholic position on the crisis. The Council stated that the “spirit of the Catholic Church is eminently conservative and while her ministers rightfully feel a deep and abiding interest in all that concerns the welfare of the country, they do not think it their province to enter the political arena.” It further elaborated on the Catholic “unity of spirit” that recognized “no North, no South, no East, no West.” Yet historian Mark Noll states that the American Catholic position, while not as “fully developed domestically as they were abroad” created a theological challenge to prevailing American beliefs. Catholics challenged the Protestant notions that linked democracy and Christianity, capitalism and Christianity, and the individualism Protestants interpreted from scripture. Noll stated in his book The Civil War as a Theological Crisis that the Catholic position “amounted to a fundamental assessment of prevailing beliefs and practices that American protestants, whose main principles were so closely intertwined with the nation’s dominant ideologies, could not deliver.” Northern theologians could not understand Catholic misgivings about the abolitionist movement, with its willingness to break the law for its goals, and Know Nothing roots, while Southern radicals could not abide the Church’s sympathy for and identification with the plight and suffering of slaves. Furthermore, while Protestant denominations split along sectional lines and theological interpretations of slavery, even to the point of advocating war, the Catholic Church seemed maddeningly united and suspiciously neutral during the secession crisis.

http://www.acton.org/pub/religion-liberty/volume-21-number-4/onward-catholic-soldiers-catholic-church-during-am

Faith, Begorrah, &c.

From the Irish Brigade on Irish Confederates assault at Fredericksburg, to Father Corby, Thomas Meagher and the rest of the New York micks, to Pat Cleburne, there’s a lot of Irish participation I could reference on this St. Paddy’s Day. Instead, I’ll link to a fantastically focused website whose author blogs about all things Ireland in the Civil War.

This blog has been set-up to fulfill a number of aims. I hope to tell the stories of Irish men and women caught up in the Civil War in an engaging and informative manner, along the way providing information on different people, units and places. It is also intended that resources for those interested in the Irish experience will be built up over time, to act as an aid for those who wish to find out more (check out the ‘Resources’ tab at the top right of the site to see what is currently available). Finally I hope the site makes some small contribution to raising awareness in Ireland of the Irish experience of the American Civil War, particularly in light of the 150th anniversary.

http://irishamericancivilwar.com/

Rabbi Chaplains

Another catch-up Disunion article, this one looking at the contribution of American Jews to the Union Army, specifically through a piece of legislation that initially barred rabbis from the chaplaincy.

One of the interesting asides is that Clement Vallandigham, notorious Copperhead, was a voice of reason in appealing for the change in wording. There are a few Civil War personalities who I’m seeing differently as I learn more about them (or perhaps as I age? Get off my lawn!), and Vallandigham is one of them. I’ll cover this a bit more in-depth tomorrow.

Rabbi Dr. Arnold Fischel arrived at the White House on the morning of Dec. 11, 1861, prepared to act as a one-man lobby for the constitutional rights of Jews. He had traveled alone from New York, on his own dime, bringing several letters of recommendation from prominent Republicans and one from the Board of Delegates of American Israelites, then just three years old and the country’s only national Jewish organization.

One of Abraham Lincoln’s private secretaries told Fischel that there was little chance of a meeting. But the rabbi was persistent, taking his place among hundreds of people hoping to see the president, some of whom had been waiting for three days. To Fischel’s surprise, Lincoln immediately received him with “marked courtesy.” The rabbi stated the reason for his visit: On behalf of the American Jewish community, including several thousand soldiers fighting for the Union, he hoped the president might reconsider a discriminatory law forbidding his people to serve as chaplains.

The Bloody Dutch

The contribution of German Americans on the war is a topic I’d like to explore in more depth. They got a bad rap in the East, with the failures of the Fights mit Sigel divisions, but they were a significant population within the Union Armies, and, with Carl Schurz and Karl Marx among them, they had a lot of political influence as well.

This article discussed a Western unit and the translation of that regimental history from the original German.

They were a formidable group of soldiers. Some of them had fought in the German Revolution of 1848 and emigrated to the United States after the revolution failed. Others were sons of German revolutionary soldiers.
Virtually all of them were members of the Cincinnati Turner Society, an organization that emphasized the development of the body and the mind. They were physically fit, mentally tough and fully prepared to endure the hardships of war.

The 9th Ohio Regiment, trained locally at Camp Harrison and Camp Dennison, fought so efficiently and ferociously during its three years in the Civil War that the Confederates called them the “Dutch Devils,” and the “Bloody Dutch.”

http://cincinnati.com/blogs/ourhistory/2010/10/15/german-civil-war-soldiers/