How Chicago Celebrated

A fitting article for mid-April remembrances: Here’s a description of how Chicago celebrated the news of Appomattox.  I’ve read descriptions of Washington’s illuminations, and felt a little cheated that photographic technology was too immature to capture it – what a sight that must’ve been!

At midnight the hundred guns of the Dearborn Light Artillery boomed. The noise continued through the night and into the dawn. Whether any of the city’s 200,000 residents got much sleep was doubtful.

Monday came. Nobody felt like going to work, and most businesses remained closed. The Court House, the newspaper offices, and other important buildings were decorated with bunting. Street vendors selling tiny American flags on sticks couldn’t keep up with the demand. Another night of celebration followed.

via How Chicago Celebrated the end of the Civil War | WBEZ 91.5 Chicago.

Vicksburg National Cemetery

Rewatching the Ken Burns series, I was struck anew by the close-packed headstones at Andersonville.  I’m surprised to learn its 13000 graves does not make it the largest Civil War cemetery – the Mississippi campaign’s widespread bodies were collected after the war and consolidated in the plots at Vicksburg.

Vicksburg National Cemetery was established by an act of Congress in 1866. It has the distinction of having the largest number of Civil War interments of any national cemetery in the United States. Of the approximate 17,000 Union veterans, only 5,000 are known. There are no Confederate burials here. Confederate soldiers were interred at Cedar Hill Cemetery in the City of Vicksburg.

After the establishment of the Cemetery, extensive efforts were made to locate the remains of the Union Soldiers throughout the Southeast and move them to Vicksburg for reinterment. At the time this occurred many of the markers had faded or were lost to the elements making identification impossible.

via Vicksburg National Cemetery – Warren County, Mississippi.

The Role of Cotton

This site was suggested to me by a reader, which is always a thrill – it’s nice to hear from you, and to exchange new knowledge!

Reading about cotton was a bit like reading about salt; it’s one of those commodities that’s so omnipresent I never spared it much thought.  But this tshirt sales site surprisingly offers a good little history about the cultivation of cotton.

As mentioned above, cotton and cotton cloth that date back 7,000 years have been recovered. With that fact in mind, it’s no surprise that by 3,000 BC, cotton was being grown and woven on a commercial scale in the Indus River Valley and along the Egyptian Nile. Cotton traveled to Europe at around 800 A.D., courtesy of Arabian traders. It was not, however, passed along to America in the same way. When Christopher Columbus landed in 1492, he was surprised to discover cotton in the Bahaman Islands. Cotton began growing in the southern United States around 1556, and by 1793, it was being spun by Eli Whitney’s cotton gin. The cotton gin completely revolutionized the speed with which cotton could be produced. Before its introduction, laborers had to struggle to pick clean one pound of cotton per day. With the help of the cotton gin, a single worker could clean and produce fifty pounds of cotton per day. Of course, this meant that more laborers would mean more money for plantation owners, and this put slaves at high demand.

via From Cotton to T-Shirts: The Role of Cotton in the Civil War – ooShirts.com.

Lincoln’s Pardons

This Disunion piece talks about one case that Lincoln refused to pardon (rightfully so, in my opinion), but spends just as much time discussing his liberal application of the clemency right.  To me, this is one of Lincoln’s most endearingly humane qualities.

There were three areas in which Lincoln’s pardoning power could be applied. The first related to cases in the civil courts. During his tenure, Lincoln reviewed 456 civil cases; 375 of them – over 82 percent — received pardons. The second class had to do with those in rebellion against the government. This being the Civil War, more than half the country qualified.

The third category was in military cases. It was here that Lincoln received the most criticism for what was perceived as his interference in the flow of military justice and discipline. He made it clear from the beginning that he was “unwilling for any boy under 18 to be shot,” and he had a tendency to pardon youths who had fallen asleep on guard duty or had deserted. Gen. Joseph Hooker once sent an envelope to the president containing the cases of 55 convicted and doomed deserters; Lincoln merely wrote “Pardoned” on the envelope and returned it to Hooker.

via The Limits of Lincoln’s Mercy – NYTimes.com.

A Living Link

In my podcast, Paying for the War, I made mention of two living Americans who, as the children of Civil War vets, are still getting their fathers’ pensions.  I had no idea there were other living children of vets beyond the pensioners.  Incredible to think they’re bridging a 150 year gap.

Hugh Tudor, born in 1847, served in the US Army from 1864 through the end of the war. In his seventies, he married and had two daughters. The younger of them, Juanita Tudor Lowrey, was born in 1926. Shes still alive…

via This Womans Father Fought in the American Civil War – Neatorama.

War Is Hell, but Kissing is Great

I found this absolutely delightful anecdote in John F. Marszalek’s Sherman: A Soldier’s Passion for Order – a biography which looks pretty damn great based on a quick flip through.

“Some time after Grant was elected President I went to call on him at the White House. I had been struck with the number and speed of his horses, and with the delight it seemed to give him to be in their company. So I said to him, ‘General, fine horses seem to have become a fad with you.’

“‘Well, Sherman,’ said he, “we all must have our fads these days. It seems to have become the fashionable thing. I have all my life been intensely fond of good horseflesh. In my youth I hadn’t the means to indulge this fancy. Later in life I had not the time. Now, when for the first time I have both the money and the leisure, I am indulging it and enjoying it to the full.’

“‘Well, general,’ said I, ‘I suppose I’ll have to be getting a fad myself I never have had one, and if I have one now I don’t know it. Let me see — let me see: what shall it be? I have it! You may drive your fast horses, and I will kiss all the pretty girls. Ha! ha! that shall be my fad.'”

Sherman is always thought of as The Destroyer, so it was hilarious to read about this later-years campaign, which by all accounts, he undertook with as much gusto as the destruction of the South.

The anecdote and many stolen-kiss followups can be found in this free online book (added to the Library), which sure seems to be a must-read for Sherman buffs like me, born 150 years too late to snare a kiss from the old rascal in person.

via Full text of “Life and deeds of General Sherman, including the story of his great march to the sea ..”.

Preserving the Dead

As explored in Drew Gilpin Faust’s book, This Republic of Suffering, the Civil War brought about a change in American funerary customs.  This article puts a morbid little bow on the rise of embalming during the war.

Just as one Springfield citizen introduced the nation to embalming at the start of the Civil War, another Springfield citizen, Abraham Lincoln, became its highest-profile example at the war’s close. In between, approximately 40,000 soldiers underwent this process, which had been all but unknown just five years earlier. Holmes went on to be known as the “father of modern embalming,” and Elmer Ellsworth can rightly be remembered not only as the first Union casualty of the Civil War, but also the man who introduced the nation to embalming.  

via Springfield’s role in preserving the dead.

Boxers, Briefs and Battles

A connection issue at work is giving me a few minutes to reconnect with my blog.  Here’s a fun Disunion article about Civil War undies.

In any case, boiling underwear could get a man into hot water. When Gen. Thomas Lanier Clingman of North Carolina wrote his mother to send drawers, she answered back, “I am certain that your flannel is injured by washing. It should not be put in very hot water or boiled at all,” and it should be washed in “moderately warm water with soap and rinsed in warm soap suds, which will keep it soft and free from shrinking. At least, you can direct your washer to do so.” General Clingman was 50 years old when his mom told him how to wash his underwear.

via Boxers, Briefs and Battles – NYTimes.com.

Bivouac of the Dead

As a teenaged tourist to Civil War battlefields (and the accompanying cemeteries), it was impossible to escape The Bivouac of the Dead.  The morbid, dreary stanzas were mounted on plaques around every cemetery. My parents being eager to continue the drive down to the beach (the battlefield visits were a holiday concession; exchanged for 3 weeks of fair-skinned, easily-sunburned me shutting up about how boring beaches were), I was usually being chivvied back to the car by the time the acres of headstones were reached. Consequently I never had time to write down the whole poem, so at Shiloh resorted to taking pictures of each plaque.  My mother, who can give Ebenezer Scrooge a run for his well-hoarded money, was none too pleased at having to develop photo after photo of leadfooted Victorian eulogy.

Reminiscing aside, here’s the history of the poem, as well as an interesting historical footnote: “It was Montgomery C. Meigs who chose to quote Bivouac of the Dead for the entrance into Arlington, due to its solemn appeal. However, at Arlington and many other national cemeteries, O’Hara was not credited due to having fought for the Confederacy.” Nobody held a grudge quite like Monty Meigs.

The Bivouac of the Dead is a poem written by Theodore O’Hara to honor his fellow soldiers from Kentucky who died in the Mexican-American War. The poem increased its popularity after the Civil War, and its verses have been featured on many memorials to fallen Confederate soldiers in the Southern United States, and are even to be found on many memorials in Arlington National Cemetery, including Arlington’s gateway.

via Bivouac of the Dead – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Confederate Pensions

A mention of Confederate pensions made me curious as to how these worked; the Southern states were poor after the war, and I doubted the Federal government would provide for soldiers who’d actively fought against it. Interesting to note they didn’t come about until 30 years after the war started – one imagines the pension rolls were pretty thin by that time – but that there was no discrimination as to where troops had served.  Given how exclusionary and self-interested the Confederate states were by war’s end, that’s a surprising development.

In 1891 Tennessee established the Board of Pension Examiners to determine if Confederate veterans applying for pensions were eligible. Eligibility requirements included an inability to support oneself, honorable separation from the service, and residence in the state for one year prior to application.

Confederate veterans applied to the pension board of the state in which they resided at the time of application, even if this was not the state from which they served.

via Tennessee Department of State: Tennessee State Library and Archives.