Then, Thenceforth and Forever Acid Free

I’m proclaiming this week Emancipation Proclamation week here at the CWP.  It’s just too big an anniversary for all the mainstream news outlets to ignore, and they’re proffering some fantastic articles I want to share.

The video here lets you see what the Proclamation actually looks like. As the article says, it’s wonderfully, revealingly banal.  I love the ribbons and the affixed seal.  As a history fanatic with ridiculously sweaty hands, though, I was sent to new depths of stress-sweats watching the curator touching the paper with her bare hands.  All the while talking about methods to keep the acid out of the paper.

But what’s pretty amazing about the juxtaposition here — the document that bears the phrase “forever free,” folded and be-ribboned — is how eloquently it expresses technological frailty as a symptom of human frailty. The Proclamation wasn’t written double-sided because people couldn’t afford paper back then, or because they thought paper was more enduring than parchment, or because, indeed, they made any strategic decision at all to write the Proclamation the way they did; it was written that way because that’s just how things were done at that particular moment in our history. I asked Archives representatives about the double-sided nature of the Proclamation; they replied that “writing on both sides of the document was the convention of the time. It was written on a folded folio so that they could have four writing surfaces.” That’s it: Folio was the convention, so that’s what they did. (The Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation — the document that announced the Emancipation would take effect on January 1, 1863 — is written in the same format.) Technology isn’t just about tools; it’s about the assumptions and conventions that inform our use of those tools. And in the America of 1863, matters of national business were conducted with folded paper and punches and ribbons. Not for reasons that were transcendent, but for reasons that were wonderfully, revealingly banal. 

via The Emancipation Proclamation Was Written Double-Sided – Megan Garber – The Atlantic.

Watch Night

Came across this while researching yesterday’s podcast, but sadly, the writing got away from me and I had to cut the reference.  This is a really lovely callout to history – it wouldn’t fit on my podcast but I might just put it on my bucket list.

A tradition began Dec. 31, 1862, as many black churches held Watch Night services, awaiting word that Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation would take effect amid a bloody Civil War. Later, congregations listened as the president’s historic words were read aloud…

This year, the Watch Night tradition will follow the historic document to its home at the National Archives with a special midnight display planned with readings, songs and bell ringing among the nation’s founding documents…

“We will be calling back to an old tradition,” said U.S. Archivist David Ferriero, noting the proclamation’s legacy. “When you see thousands of people waiting in line in the dark and cold … we know that they’re not there just for words on paper.

via National Archives tribute, Watch Nights among events marking Emancipation Proclamation’s 150th – Washington Post.

“Civil War Widow’s Mole Skin”

When I saw that headline I had images of the artist-friendly notebooks. Little did I know I’d find another rodent-based article for the blog. Here’s to a less furry 2013 for the Civil War Podcast!

In order to receive a pension, Civil War widows had to prove that they had actually been married to a soldier. Marriage records were far less consistent in the past than they are today, which explains why Charity Snider ended up sending the pressed skin of a dead mole to the federal government.

Civil War widows mole skin: Sent to the government to secure her pension..

Christmas Ball Game

Baseball and the Civil War have long been linked – erroneously – thanks to the myth of Abner Doubleday’s “invention”, but it has a tie far more interesting than the fictional one:

One hundred forty-nine years ago, two teams made up of members of the Union Army faced off against each other in a Christmas Day baseball game in Hilton Head, South Carolina. The Civil War is widely credited as having been a factor in spreading baseball across the country, and historical records exist for a number of the games played during the war — Baseball Almanac notes at least five in 1862 alone. The Christmas Day game was probably the best-attended game of the war, perhaps one of the best-attended games of the 19th century. But we don’t know that for certain, or indeed much of anything about the game, not even its final score.

One reason for the confusion is the unreliable source at the heart of the story. The game’s most famous player was A.G. Mills, the namesake of the Mills Commission, which established Abner Doubleday as the “founder” of baseball and Cooperstown as its birthplace on the basis of virtually no evidence. Mills played in the game when he was an 18-year old private with the New York Volunteers…

http://www.fangraphs.com/blogs/index.php/the-civil-warchristmas-day-game-hilton-head-1862/

The Christmas Tradition

Some interesting facts from Wikipedia, on this Christmas Eve:

Christmas in the American Civil War (1861–1865) was celebrated in both the United States and the Confederate States of America although the day did not become an official holiday until five years after the war ended… In 1870, Christmas became an official Federal holiday when President Ulysses S. Grant made it so in an attempt to unite north and south.

For children, Christmas was altered during the war. Presents were fewer, especially in the devastated South. In We Were Marching on Christmas Day, author Kevin Rawlings notes that some southern children worried about the Union blockade, and one little girl, Sallie Brock Putnam, plotted the course Santa Claus would have to take to avoid it… Excuses for a lack of Santa included Yankees having shot him.

And, my favourite:
In one incident on December 25, 1864, 90 Union soldiers from Michigan, led by their captain, dispensed “food and supplies” to poor Georgians, with the mules pulling the carts decorated to resemble reindeer by having tree branches tied to their heads.

Merry Christmas!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_in_the_American_Civil_War

History of Fredericksburg in 21 Objects

I posted a while back about an archaeological dig in Fredericksburg. The New York Times has put together a wonderful digital gallery of the objects pulled from that dig, as well as some artifacts from around the city.  Well worth taking a digital stroll through them.

History of Fredericksburg in 21 Objects – Interactive Feature – NYTimes.com.

The Brothers’ War and Family Ties

Today’s link is an interesting blog describing an Australian who is a huge Civil War buff. As a Canadian who’s had a lifelong interest in the war, I’m not surprised there are others in the world with as strong an interest. One of my favorite tasks in keeping this blog is monitoring where my visitors come from.  Proof that this is a worldwide topic, this is my map as of this morning:

A few conversations with Len mean I now retreat apologetically if anyone welcomes me as a Civil War buff. It turns out he is regarded by many as the doyen of the Australian enthusiasts. The Atlanta History Museum, which I’ve visited, bought most of his private museum. A fellow collector of war mementoes, Andraus Tonismae, says: ”He astounds me. I’ve never come across such amazing recall. It is a steel-trap mind. And he had the best collection of artefacts outside the US.”

Seventy-five-year-old Len seems to know everything that happened in America from 1860 to 1865.

He acquired this knowledge, his collection and a library of 1800 books on the war, while he slapped gun-metal grey on the steel framework of the Sydney Harbour Bridge or embossed gilt in art deco cinemas and offices. For 20 years he was a painter and decorator. Later he became a paint salesman, then a workplace inspector.

His story proves, in his words, that ”the Civil War belongs to the world”. It probably proves something else as well: the enchantment of history, that all can fall in love with the sequences of the past, even if you spend your working days hanging wallpaper or staining and polishing. His life is about the power of self-education in a subject you love.

via Love is a battlefield.

Under the Knife

Another fantastic Disunion article, though not one for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. There are some fascinating facts and anecdotes in here, including the higher probability of Confederate generals than Confederate soldiers needing treatment, and the impressive speed with which amputations were performed. As the author points out, the legacy of the war was evident for decades afterwards in its limbless veterans.

Because surgeons preferred to operate outdoors where lighting and ventilation were better, thousands of soldiers witnessed amputations firsthand. Passers-by and even wounded men waiting their turn watched as surgeons sawed off arms and legs and tossed them onto ever growing piles. The poet Walt Whitman witnessed such a scene when he visited Fredericksburg in search of his wounded brother. “One of the first things that met my eyes in camp,” he wrote, “was a heap of feet, arms, legs, etc., under a tree in front of a hospital.” Indeed, after the December 1862 Battle of Fredericksburg, Union surgeons performed almost 500 amputations.

Early in the war surgeons earned the nickname “Saw-bones” because they seemed eager to amputate. This eagerness stemmed not from overzealousness but from the knowledge that infections developed quickly in mangled flesh, and amputation was the most effective way to prevent it. Those limbs removed within 48 hours of injury were called primary amputations, and those removed after 48 hours were called secondary amputations. The mortality rate for primary amputations was about 25 percent; that for secondary amputations was twice as high, thanks to the fact that most secondary amputations were performed after gangrene or blood poisoning developed in the wound. Surgeons learned that amputating the limb after it became infected actually caused the infection to spread, and patients frequently died. Thus, the patient was much more likely to survive if a primary amputation was performed before infection set in.

via Under the Knife – NYTimes.com.

Thaddeus Stevens on Screen

Thaddeus Stevens is one of those names of which I know a fair bit, but whose image is always a surprise to me. I wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup, but his onscreen portrayer, Tommy Lee Jones’ wig anecdote might help in future.

“All I knew of Thaddeus Stevens was what an attentive student of American history would have learned in high school or college,” he said. “He was a radical Republican abolitionist with a very severe outlook on Reconstruction,” arguing that the postwar South should be punished like conquered provinces where constitutional restraints would not apply.

What Jones didn’t know was that Stevens had a club foot, lost all his hair and wore a wig cut the same way all around so he wouldn’t have to waste time locating the front. Jones called wearing his impressive toupee just “one of the vicissitudes of acting.”

via In ‘Lincoln,’ Jones found full package.

Woman With Flare

Disunion discusses a rare duck: Lady scientist of the 1860s, Martha Coston.  Nice to see that the Coston name remained tied to the product, though I wonder how many flare users were aware that the Coston in question wore petticoats?

Coston made her mark in history because she needed to survive, after her husband´s untimely death. At age 16, Coston eloped with the promising Boston scientist Benjamin Franklin Coston, who headed the Navy´s pyrotechnic laboratory. She had four children with him over the next five years. Apparently due to his work with toxic materials, Benjamin Coston died a somewhat mysterious death in 1848, leaving his 21-year-old widow and children nearly penniless.

Luckily, Martha Coston had followed her husband’s work, and knew that he had developed a revolutionary new signaling system: a wand signal that displayed three colors on a rotating rod. On the advice of Secretary of the Navy Isaac Toucey, Coston persuaded the home fleet to test the signal prototypes her husband had crafted. After testing it, Commodore Hiram Paulding wrote Coston that the idea was an excellent one.

But because her husband died in mid-development, he hadn’t left much behind in the way of schematics or formulas. Coston basically had to start from scratch to determine how to make the signal lights. Over many months Coston labored tirelessly to perfect the flare signals.

via Woman With Flare – NYTimes.com.