We have all read about war, seen footage of it. The killing, the dead. I don't like to see it. In my career in the criminal law I have read and seen, in photographs and "live," so much killing and so much death. I have always been affected by it. Tonight, perhaps because I am tired, understandably because of the particular battle, and the rank of the man killed, certainly because of the vividness of the narration, and the evident pain of the narrator I am, what I seldom have been, shaken:
The battle of Fredericksburg proved that well-positioned artillery could lay a devastating deadly effect on the enemy from afar, but the infantry was still needed to take physical control of the battlefield. The following is an infantry soldier’s graphic recollection of the real and horrible reality of war as written by an anonymous Confederate veteran and published in a New Orleans newspaper after the war.
“They do not call it murder when men meet to slaughter each other in battle. They simply report so many dead, wounded and missing. When you fire into the smoke concealing the other battle-line you fire in the hopes to kill or wound. It is your duty. Battles cannot be won without killing, and the result of battles changes the whole system of governments. You load and fire- load and fire - move to the right or left - advance or retreat, and when the battle is over, you may have fired fifty rounds and yet you have not had a near sight of the enemy; you have simply fired at him, and you cannot vouch that one single of your bullets has found a living target.
[But then there is the emotional revelation of seeing one of those that you kill.] Here is a brigade of us in battle line across an old meadow. We have erected breastworks, and the enemy comes marching down upon us. Our [artillery] field pieces behind us open fire on the enemy’s solid columns, but they are not checked. Under the smoke we can see the effect of the shells, but they cannot halt that mass of men. The grape and canister does awful execution, but there should be a dozen guns behind us instead of six.
They are going to charge us. Orders run along the line, and we are waiting until every bullet, no matter if fired by a soldier with his eyes shut, must hit a foe. I select my man while he is yet beyond range. I have eyes for no other. He is a tall, soldierly fellow wearing the stripes of a sergeant. As he comes nearer I imagine that he is looking as fixed at me as I at him. I admire his coolness. He looks neither to the right nor to the left. The man on his right is hit and goes down, but he does not falter.
I am going to kill that man! I have a rest for my gun on the breastwork, and when the order comes to fire I cannot miss him. He is living his last minute on earth! We are calmly waiting until our volley shall prove a veritable flame of death. Now they close up their gaps, and we can hear the shouts of their officers as they make ready to charge. My man is still opposite me. He still seems to be looking at me and no one else. I know the word is coming in a few seconds more, and I aim at his chest. I could almost be sure of hitting him with a stone when we get the word to fire. There is a billow of flame- a billow of smoke- a fierce crash, and 4,000 bullets are fired into that compact mass of advancing men. Not one volley alone, though that worked horrible destruction, but another and another, until there was no longer a living man to fire at.
The smoke drifts slowly away- men cheer and yell- we can see the meadow before us heaped up with dead and dying men. We advance our line. As we go forward I look for my victim. He is lying on his back, his eyes half shut and fingers clutching at the grass. He grasps, draws up his legs and straightens them out again, and is dead as I pass on. I have killed my man! My bullet alone struck him, tearing that ghastly wound in his breast, and I am entitled to that honor. Do I swing my cap and cheer? Do I point him out and expect to be congratulated? No! I have no cheers. I feel no elation. I feel that I have murdered him, war or no war, and that his agonized face will haunt me through the rest of my life.”
The battle of Fredericksburg proved that well-positioned artillery could lay a devastating deadly effect on the enemy from afar, but the infantry was still needed to take physical control of the battlefield. The following is an infantry soldier’s graphic recollection of the real and horrible reality of war as written by an anonymous Confederate veteran and published in a New Orleans newspaper after the war.
“They do not call it murder when men meet to slaughter each other in battle. They simply report so many dead, wounded and missing. When you fire into the smoke concealing the other battle-line you fire in the hopes to kill or wound. It is your duty. Battles cannot be won without killing, and the result of battles changes the whole system of governments. You load and fire- load and fire - move to the right or left - advance or retreat, and when the battle is over, you may have fired fifty rounds and yet you have not had a near sight of the enemy; you have simply fired at him, and you cannot vouch that one single of your bullets has found a living target.
[But then there is the emotional revelation of seeing one of those that you kill.] Here is a brigade of us in battle line across an old meadow. We have erected breastworks, and the enemy comes marching down upon us. Our [artillery] field pieces behind us open fire on the enemy’s solid columns, but they are not checked. Under the smoke we can see the effect of the shells, but they cannot halt that mass of men. The grape and canister does awful execution, but there should be a dozen guns behind us instead of six.
They are going to charge us. Orders run along the line, and we are waiting until every bullet, no matter if fired by a soldier with his eyes shut, must hit a foe. I select my man while he is yet beyond range. I have eyes for no other. He is a tall, soldierly fellow wearing the stripes of a sergeant. As he comes nearer I imagine that he is looking as fixed at me as I at him. I admire his coolness. He looks neither to the right nor to the left. The man on his right is hit and goes down, but he does not falter.
I am going to kill that man! I have a rest for my gun on the breastwork, and when the order comes to fire I cannot miss him. He is living his last minute on earth! We are calmly waiting until our volley shall prove a veritable flame of death. Now they close up their gaps, and we can hear the shouts of their officers as they make ready to charge. My man is still opposite me. He still seems to be looking at me and no one else. I know the word is coming in a few seconds more, and I aim at his chest. I could almost be sure of hitting him with a stone when we get the word to fire. There is a billow of flame- a billow of smoke- a fierce crash, and 4,000 bullets are fired into that compact mass of advancing men. Not one volley alone, though that worked horrible destruction, but another and another, until there was no longer a living man to fire at.
The smoke drifts slowly away- men cheer and yell- we can see the meadow before us heaped up with dead and dying men. We advance our line. As we go forward I look for my victim. He is lying on his back, his eyes half shut and fingers clutching at the grass. He grasps, draws up his legs and straightens them out again, and is dead as I pass on. I have killed my man! My bullet alone struck him, tearing that ghastly wound in his breast, and I am entitled to that honor. Do I swing my cap and cheer? Do I point him out and expect to be congratulated? No! I have no cheers. I feel no elation. I feel that I have murdered him, war or no war, and that his agonized face will haunt me through the rest of my life.”
On the header, "Fredericksburg Battlefield. The field Union forces had to cross to reach Confederate forces in the distance. (Marye's Heights is distant hills with trees upper right.)"
http://www.washingtonartillery.com/Killing%20a%20Man%20page.htm
...
Okay, that's not too long that it takes up the whole page so I will augment away. I was looking
through Under the Maltese Cross, the history of the 155th Pa., today and saw some stuff that I had
previously highlighted in one way or another but had not incorporated into a post. The first is this
photo which I include because it depicts a dying U.S. sergeant in the charge at Marye's Heights and my relative, Nathan Bracken, was a dying U.S. sergeant at Marye's Heights and in fact died there.
Next, one of the engravings at the front of the book.
I don't know why these guys termed it a "Loyal Uprising." But they did.
This is how the preface begins:
"THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN IS A FAILURE! THE UNION ARMS HAVE NOT BEEN VICTORIOUS! THEY HAVE BEEN DRIVEN BACK TO THE GATES OF WASHINGTON, NOTWITHSTANDING ALL REPORTS TO THE CONTRARY!"
Those were the words of Pennsylvania governor Andrew Curtin on July 24, 1862 in a speech in Pittsburgh. The authors of Maltese Cross describe the effect:
Up to that period...the real magnitude of the war for the Union had not been fully realized by the people of Western Pennsylvania. It was felt somehow that...the Rebellion must be short-lived...
The solemn and impressive declaration of [Curtin]...awoke the people with a shock...
Many youths who had never hitherto entertained a thought of enlisting, suddenly felt themselves impelled to enroll themselves in defense of the integrity of their native land...
From chapter one, "1861:" one-half of the enlistees in the 155th were between 14 and 18 years old! Wow. They weren't exaggerating when they said "youths."
Next, the Division flag!
I shall end this brief update with a photo of the leader of the Pa. 133rd, whose photo I had looked for previously but never found, Colonel Francis B. Speakman:
...
Hey. This series has gotten away from me and this is an attempt to bring it under control. The titled post most recently updated on May 10, 2015, the "long one," will be henceforth part "I." I cannot add more to it, as it is it takes up the entire first page of the blog. The instant post, "II," now incorporates in reverse chronological order titled posts March 30, 2015, February 16, 2011, and December 22, 2009, all of which I done forgot all about. This post will be augmented with updates until it gets too long and then there'll be a "III."
Company F of the 133rd Regiment is formed - Daniel L Klennelsee
https://familysearch.org/photos/stories/12545958
Two weeks ago a meeting was held in Ebensburg, to raise a company to go forth in defence of the rights most dear to Northern freemen. You recollect the proceedings of that meeting - thirteen men then and there signed the muster-roll of Capt. John M. Jones' company. Well, patriotic young men flocked to the standard of the Union, and in one week a full company was ready to enter the service of Uncle Sam. On last Tuesday, we organized, were sworn into the service of the Federal Government, and elected our commissioned officers. The next morning, at half past five o'clock, amid the adieux and God-speeds of friends, we left the Mountain Village for the term of nine months.
At every station along our journey, we were welcomed with hearty hurrahs by the men and the waving of handkerchiefs by the ladies. At one of the stations, a beautiful bouquet was thrown in at the car window, which your correspondent had the good fortune to secure. Thanks to the fair donor, and may her pathway thro' life be sweet and pleasant as the fragrance of her floral offering!
On entering the station of Mexico, such an assemblage of bright eyes, fair cheeks and rosy lips greeted us that many of the boys imagined they had, by some mistake, taken the back-track and were again in Ebensburg!
At two o'clock, we arrived at Harrisburg depot. From thence we marched to the Pennsylvania House, where we partook of dinner; after which we marched to camp. The same evening we received our tents and one day's rations, but nothing else, so the first nights sleep in camp for the greater portion of us was upon the hard ground. Ground, I say, and not soft green grass, for recollect, there is very little in this camp except soldiers, tents and - dust. This latter article, moreover, is a friend that sticketh considerably closer than a poor relation! Let us all petition for a rain - a great, rousing rain - which shall settle the dust of Camp Curtin, and thereby cause the hearts of the soldiers to rejoice.
The rations we receive are excellent, and it is only a want of proper knowledge to prepare them that would render them unpalatable to any one. The boys are anxious to receive their clothing and arms, and learn what it is to be a real soldier. Thus far we have received by way of clothing only overcoats
and blankets, but will get the remainder ere long.
The following is the muster-roll of the company - to which no name has yet been given, although we generally go by the title of "Cambria Guards No. 2"
Captain: John M Jones
Lieutenants:
1st, Wm A Scott
2d, F M Flanagan
Sergeants:
1st, James J Will
2d, J O Brookbank
3d, Nathan Bracken
4th, John N Evans
5th, John O Evans
Corporals:
1st, Samuel W Davis
2d, Nathan Sanders
3d, Meshac Thomas
4th, J M Thompson
5th, V S Barker
6th, H J Humphreys
7th, J F Stearls
8th, Peter Urban
Musician: Andrew J Litzinger
Teamster: John J Griffith
Privates:
Aerhart Peter
Bennet Richard J
Berkey George W
Broombaugh John
Burns Patrick A
Blanchard Melville G
Burns Patrick
Conrad Stephen
Carland Henry
Davis William A
Devcraux Thomas T
Deveraux Robert
Evans Hosea J
Evans William M
Evans Andrew E
Evans Thomas J
Evans Hugh E
Evans Elbridge G
Evans David I
Edwards Lewis R
Edelblute James M
Fronk Cyrus H
Fox John
Gibson Wm D
Gallagher Wilson
Hughes John W
Howell Wm W
Horn Henry P
Humphreys Edward J
Jones Richard M
Jones Alexander
Jones Edward Jr
Jones John M
Jones Wm W
Jones Milton
Jones Evan E
Keith Levi
Keith Peter
Kinsel Joseph
Krize Valentine W
Kimball John
Klennelsee Daniel L
Long Daniel
Lewis David D
Longwell James M
Lamer Samual
M'Closkey Ben T G
M'Munnigle Lawrence
M'Dowell Richard B
Mack Joseph
Makin Wm
Michael Evan J
Morgan David
Moore Levi
Melhorn Peter
Miller Joseph
Pryee David D
Powell Daniel
Parker Joseph W
Patterson Edward
Roberts Edwin E
Singer Robert H
Severance Levi
Severance Albion A
Snyder Tobias
Snyder Lewis
Shinefelt Christian
Shoffner Martin
Sutton Francis A
Stiles Elbridge
Thomas David
Thompson John A
Tibbot Wm R
Whitehead James W
Weakland Demetrius
Wiggins John F
Waugeman Robt E B
Yours, &c, CAMBRIAN
"From Our Volunteers", The Alleghanian. (Ebensburg, Pa.), 21 Aug. 1862. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.
-Updated March 30, 2015.
On September 22, 1862 Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation.
At the beginning of the Civil War Lincoln had cast the cause as one for Union, not for abolition.Famously he had written that he would free none, some, or all of the slaves, whichever would best keep the United States intact. His thinking had evolved and in the summer of 1862 he had made up his mind to abolish slavery entirely.* All he had been waiting for, he told his cabinet, was a victory that would drive C.S.A. troops out of Maryland. That was Antietam.
Lincoln’s decision was unpopular in virtually all corners.
In the week after the announcement there were more desertions from the Unites States army than there were new enlistments. In the Confederate States of America enlistment increased.
Outside some units from New England, freeing the slaves was a rare motivation for a young man to volunteer his service to the U.S. during the Civil War. "John Brown’s Body" was motivational but John Brown’s body was not. Money, glamour, and nationalism were far greater spurs.
Like others, the men of the 133rd Pennsylvania got offered a “bounty” to join up, a one-time lump sum payment that took the full meaning of “volunteer” out of volunteer. The excitement of the soldier’s life wore off quickly with the rigors of march, the ennui of camp, the rampant disease, and the submission to authority. The men of the 133rd were farmers for the most part. Self-reliance has always been an American trait; it was more so for the citizens of the United States who never had slaves to serve them. They weren't easily to be made servile to others, either.
Contact with white residents in the C.S.A. generally increased the U.S. soldier’s loathing of their enemy, but contact with the slaves evoked a mixed bag of feelings. Some thought slavery not the unmitigated evil they had imagined when they saw the slaves in person. Others were deeply moved by the acts of cruelty that they observed and their effects, for example the backs of slaves criss-crossed with the scars and keloids from prior lashings. Still others engaged in like acts of cruelty against the slaves. The racism that was at the root of slavery was largely seconded by the feelings of U.S. soldiers, if they still thought the peculiar institution unsavory.
Nathan, and Richard** had probably never heard a southern accent before the war; they almost certainly had never seen a black person. The Confederate States of America were in every way another country to them.
The climate and vegetation of northern Virginia, the 133rd’s first stop in the C.S.A. at Manassas, was not much different from what the men were used to. The people though were very different.Repeatedly in letters home U.S. soldiers commented on the state of things in the Confederacy. And they were shocked: The people were coarse, poor, and uneducated and the contrast with the more prosperous, more literate people of the U.S.A. was stark, as in this letter from a U.S. private:
The Cuntry hear is the hardest plase that I ever Sea Wea Do Not Sea a Scool house near in one hundred Mills and you ask a man if they Go to Meaten they Say they Don’t know What It is there aint one in 20 that Can tell one Leter from a Nother and every thing els in CordenCee with thear Lurnen.
Like sophistication in the 133rd’s case was a product of self-education in the lessons of life. They were the “Mountain Guards,” educated in and graduated cum laude from the elite incubus of western Pennsylvania. Any corner roughness missed by this finishing school was smoothed away by the U.S. army.
It will be recalled that the Mountain Guards came to penetrate deepest darkest northern Virginia from Paris-on-the-Potomac. Washington acquainted the boys with another form of human existence as alien to them as the Confederacy: a city. This was more to their liking.
“Oil of Gladness.”
“Nockum stiff.”
“How come you so.”
Alcohol had replaced water in Washington.
*This is an abridged version of the E.P. The September 22 order freed the slaves then being held in C.S.A. states if those states did not return to the union by January 1, 1863. On January 1, Lincoln signed a second order freeing slaves held in ten C.S.A. states, but not border states like Maryland.
**I exclude Francis here on the assumption that he was an Irish immigrant and would have been exposed to a more heterogeneous body of humanity.
to be continued.
...
I share with readers the below email received yesterday, to which I responded that I would check and help in any way I could. I have gotten emails from other readers over the years on the 133rd. Anyone with information that you think could be helpful to the author below, please email at publocc@gmail.com and I will forward.
Hello,
My name is [name withheld], and I'm a journalist writing a book about
the Battle of Fredericksburg. My e-mail address is [withheld].
I much enjoyed your June 2008 blog, which reprinted an excerpted
version of William Wertz' account of the 133rd Pennsylvania at
Fredericksburg. Would it be possible to send me a bibliographic
citation for the entire article, which, you'll recall, appeared in
"Army Life?" I'd like to track it down and use it in my book.
Thanks for your help.
All the best,
[name withheld]
Image: "Humphreys Charge," Alfred Waud for Harpers Weekly.
...
The men of the 133rd just missed two major battles (besides the one over the future of Lieutenant FlannIgan). The first was the Second Battle of Bull Run, First Bull Run being one of the earliest engagements in the war, one that went horribly for the United States and shocked the country out of its complacence that the war would be a short one. The 133rd marched toward Second Bull Run but by the time they got close the battle was in full gear. They spent two weeks on picket duty.
Then on September 14 an enraged 133rd went to meet the enemy in Maryland.
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave;
His soul's marching on!
They will hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!
As they march along!
Maryland was a state that the U.S. had to keep. A “Border State,” it virtually surrounded Washington, D.C. Its loss would have necessitated moving the capital. As it was Maryland’s instability kept Washington and President Lincoln skittish deep into the war. The 133rd was enraged because some Confederate units in Maryland were threatening neighboring counties in Pennsylvania and the 133rd was Pennsylvanian.
On September 18, the 133rd arrived at Antietam, Maryland but the Battle of Antietam had begun on September 17 and on the 18th there was a lull. Then, on the 19th the Confederates withdrew. There is insufficient evidence that Robert E. Lee's decision to withdraw his army was tied to the arrival of the 133rd Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers.
Although the men missed out on the fighting Antietam proved instructive, for proximity to the battlefield acquainted them with the corporeal results. As they marched out they saw and smelled the countless decaying bodies of both armies. They bivouacked just a mile away at Sharpsburg.
Any prior deficiency in Francis Flannigan's preparation of the men of Company F was corrected at Sharpsburg for at Sharpsburg they remained for the next six weeks and drilled. And drilled.
"The first thing in the morning is drill, then drill, then drill again. Then drill, drill, a little more drill. Then drill, and lastly drill. Between drills, we drill and sometimes stop to eat a little and have a roll-call."
While the men of the 133rd were busy drilling at Sharpsburg they experienced another result of Antietam: Abraham Lincoln changed the purpose of the war.
to be continued.
...
Okay, that's not too long that it takes up the whole page so I will augment away. I was looking
through Under the Maltese Cross, the history of the 155th Pa., today and saw some stuff that I had
previously highlighted in one way or another but had not incorporated into a post. The first is this
photo which I include because it depicts a dying U.S. sergeant in the charge at Marye's Heights and my relative, Nathan Bracken, was a dying U.S. sergeant at Marye's Heights and in fact died there.
Next, one of the engravings at the front of the book.
I don't know why these guys termed it a "Loyal Uprising." But they did.
This is how the preface begins:
"THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN IS A FAILURE! THE UNION ARMS HAVE NOT BEEN VICTORIOUS! THEY HAVE BEEN DRIVEN BACK TO THE GATES OF WASHINGTON, NOTWITHSTANDING ALL REPORTS TO THE CONTRARY!"
Those were the words of Pennsylvania governor Andrew Curtin on July 24, 1862 in a speech in Pittsburgh. The authors of Maltese Cross describe the effect:
Up to that period...the real magnitude of the war for the Union had not been fully realized by the people of Western Pennsylvania. It was felt somehow that...the Rebellion must be short-lived...
The solemn and impressive declaration of [Curtin]...awoke the people with a shock...
Many youths who had never hitherto entertained a thought of enlisting, suddenly felt themselves impelled to enroll themselves in defense of the integrity of their native land...
From chapter one, "1861:" one-half of the enlistees in the 155th were between 14 and 18 years old! Wow. They weren't exaggerating when they said "youths."
Next, the Division flag!
I shall end this brief update with a photo of the leader of the Pa. 133rd, whose photo I had looked for previously but never found, Colonel Francis B. Speakman:
...
Hey. This series has gotten away from me and this is an attempt to bring it under control. The titled post most recently updated on May 10, 2015, the "long one," will be henceforth part "I." I cannot add more to it, as it is it takes up the entire first page of the blog. The instant post, "II," now incorporates in reverse chronological order titled posts March 30, 2015, February 16, 2011, and December 22, 2009, all of which I done forgot all about. This post will be augmented with updates until it gets too long and then there'll be a "III."
Company F of the 133rd Regiment is formed - Daniel L Klennelsee
https://familysearch.org/photos/stories/12545958
Two weeks ago a meeting was held in Ebensburg, to raise a company to go forth in defence of the rights most dear to Northern freemen. You recollect the proceedings of that meeting - thirteen men then and there signed the muster-roll of Capt. John M. Jones' company. Well, patriotic young men flocked to the standard of the Union, and in one week a full company was ready to enter the service of Uncle Sam. On last Tuesday, we organized, were sworn into the service of the Federal Government, and elected our commissioned officers. The next morning, at half past five o'clock, amid the adieux and God-speeds of friends, we left the Mountain Village for the term of nine months.
At every station along our journey, we were welcomed with hearty hurrahs by the men and the waving of handkerchiefs by the ladies. At one of the stations, a beautiful bouquet was thrown in at the car window, which your correspondent had the good fortune to secure. Thanks to the fair donor, and may her pathway thro' life be sweet and pleasant as the fragrance of her floral offering!
On entering the station of Mexico, such an assemblage of bright eyes, fair cheeks and rosy lips greeted us that many of the boys imagined they had, by some mistake, taken the back-track and were again in Ebensburg!
At two o'clock, we arrived at Harrisburg depot. From thence we marched to the Pennsylvania House, where we partook of dinner; after which we marched to camp. The same evening we received our tents and one day's rations, but nothing else, so the first nights sleep in camp for the greater portion of us was upon the hard ground. Ground, I say, and not soft green grass, for recollect, there is very little in this camp except soldiers, tents and - dust. This latter article, moreover, is a friend that sticketh considerably closer than a poor relation! Let us all petition for a rain - a great, rousing rain - which shall settle the dust of Camp Curtin, and thereby cause the hearts of the soldiers to rejoice.
The rations we receive are excellent, and it is only a want of proper knowledge to prepare them that would render them unpalatable to any one. The boys are anxious to receive their clothing and arms, and learn what it is to be a real soldier. Thus far we have received by way of clothing only overcoats
and blankets, but will get the remainder ere long.
The following is the muster-roll of the company - to which no name has yet been given, although we generally go by the title of "Cambria Guards No. 2"
Captain: John M Jones
Lieutenants:
1st, Wm A Scott
2d, F M Flanagan
Sergeants:
1st, James J Will
2d, J O Brookbank
3d, Nathan Bracken
4th, John N Evans
5th, John O Evans
Corporals:
1st, Samuel W Davis
2d, Nathan Sanders
3d, Meshac Thomas
4th, J M Thompson
5th, V S Barker
6th, H J Humphreys
7th, J F Stearls
8th, Peter Urban
Musician: Andrew J Litzinger
Teamster: John J Griffith
Privates:
Aerhart Peter
Bennet Richard J
Berkey George W
Broombaugh John
Burns Patrick A
Blanchard Melville G
Burns Patrick
Conrad Stephen
Carland Henry
Davis William A
Devcraux Thomas T
Deveraux Robert
Evans Hosea J
Evans William M
Evans Andrew E
Evans Thomas J
Evans Hugh E
Evans Elbridge G
Evans David I
Edwards Lewis R
Edelblute James M
Fronk Cyrus H
Fox John
Gibson Wm D
Gallagher Wilson
Hughes John W
Howell Wm W
Horn Henry P
Humphreys Edward J
Jones Richard M
Jones Alexander
Jones Edward Jr
Jones John M
Jones Wm W
Jones Milton
Jones Evan E
Keith Levi
Keith Peter
Kinsel Joseph
Krize Valentine W
Kimball John
Klennelsee Daniel L
Long Daniel
Lewis David D
Longwell James M
Lamer Samual
M'Closkey Ben T G
M'Munnigle Lawrence
M'Dowell Richard B
Mack Joseph
Makin Wm
Michael Evan J
Morgan David
Moore Levi
Melhorn Peter
Miller Joseph
Pryee David D
Powell Daniel
Parker Joseph W
Patterson Edward
Roberts Edwin E
Singer Robert H
Severance Levi
Severance Albion A
Snyder Tobias
Snyder Lewis
Shinefelt Christian
Shoffner Martin
Sutton Francis A
Stiles Elbridge
Thomas David
Thompson John A
Tibbot Wm R
Whitehead James W
Weakland Demetrius
Wiggins John F
Waugeman Robt E B
Yours, &c, CAMBRIAN
"From Our Volunteers", The Alleghanian. (Ebensburg, Pa.), 21 Aug. 1862. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.
-Updated March 30, 2015.
On September 22, 1862 Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation.
At the beginning of the Civil War Lincoln had cast the cause as one for Union, not for abolition.Famously he had written that he would free none, some, or all of the slaves, whichever would best keep the United States intact. His thinking had evolved and in the summer of 1862 he had made up his mind to abolish slavery entirely.* All he had been waiting for, he told his cabinet, was a victory that would drive C.S.A. troops out of Maryland. That was Antietam.
Lincoln’s decision was unpopular in virtually all corners.
In the week after the announcement there were more desertions from the Unites States army than there were new enlistments. In the Confederate States of America enlistment increased.
Outside some units from New England, freeing the slaves was a rare motivation for a young man to volunteer his service to the U.S. during the Civil War. "John Brown’s Body" was motivational but John Brown’s body was not. Money, glamour, and nationalism were far greater spurs.
Like others, the men of the 133rd Pennsylvania got offered a “bounty” to join up, a one-time lump sum payment that took the full meaning of “volunteer” out of volunteer. The excitement of the soldier’s life wore off quickly with the rigors of march, the ennui of camp, the rampant disease, and the submission to authority. The men of the 133rd were farmers for the most part. Self-reliance has always been an American trait; it was more so for the citizens of the United States who never had slaves to serve them. They weren't easily to be made servile to others, either.
Contact with white residents in the C.S.A. generally increased the U.S. soldier’s loathing of their enemy, but contact with the slaves evoked a mixed bag of feelings. Some thought slavery not the unmitigated evil they had imagined when they saw the slaves in person. Others were deeply moved by the acts of cruelty that they observed and their effects, for example the backs of slaves criss-crossed with the scars and keloids from prior lashings. Still others engaged in like acts of cruelty against the slaves. The racism that was at the root of slavery was largely seconded by the feelings of U.S. soldiers, if they still thought the peculiar institution unsavory.
Nathan, and Richard** had probably never heard a southern accent before the war; they almost certainly had never seen a black person. The Confederate States of America were in every way another country to them.
The climate and vegetation of northern Virginia, the 133rd’s first stop in the C.S.A. at Manassas, was not much different from what the men were used to. The people though were very different.Repeatedly in letters home U.S. soldiers commented on the state of things in the Confederacy. And they were shocked: The people were coarse, poor, and uneducated and the contrast with the more prosperous, more literate people of the U.S.A. was stark, as in this letter from a U.S. private:
The Cuntry hear is the hardest plase that I ever Sea Wea Do Not Sea a Scool house near in one hundred Mills and you ask a man if they Go to Meaten they Say they Don’t know What It is there aint one in 20 that Can tell one Leter from a Nother and every thing els in CordenCee with thear Lurnen.
Like sophistication in the 133rd’s case was a product of self-education in the lessons of life. They were the “Mountain Guards,” educated in and graduated cum laude from the elite incubus of western Pennsylvania. Any corner roughness missed by this finishing school was smoothed away by the U.S. army.
It will be recalled that the Mountain Guards came to penetrate deepest darkest northern Virginia from Paris-on-the-Potomac. Washington acquainted the boys with another form of human existence as alien to them as the Confederacy: a city. This was more to their liking.
“Oil of Gladness.”
“Nockum stiff.”
“How come you so.”
Alcohol had replaced water in Washington.
*This is an abridged version of the E.P. The September 22 order freed the slaves then being held in C.S.A. states if those states did not return to the union by January 1, 1863. On January 1, Lincoln signed a second order freeing slaves held in ten C.S.A. states, but not border states like Maryland.
**I exclude Francis here on the assumption that he was an Irish immigrant and would have been exposed to a more heterogeneous body of humanity.
to be continued.
...
I share with readers the below email received yesterday, to which I responded that I would check and help in any way I could. I have gotten emails from other readers over the years on the 133rd. Anyone with information that you think could be helpful to the author below, please email at publocc@gmail.com and I will forward.
Hello,
My name is [name withheld], and I'm a journalist writing a book about
the Battle of Fredericksburg. My e-mail address is [withheld].
I much enjoyed your June 2008 blog, which reprinted an excerpted
version of William Wertz' account of the 133rd Pennsylvania at
Fredericksburg. Would it be possible to send me a bibliographic
citation for the entire article, which, you'll recall, appeared in
"Army Life?" I'd like to track it down and use it in my book.
Thanks for your help.
All the best,
[name withheld]
Image: "Humphreys Charge," Alfred Waud for Harpers Weekly.
...
The men of the 133rd just missed two major battles (besides the one over the future of Lieutenant FlannIgan). The first was the Second Battle of Bull Run, First Bull Run being one of the earliest engagements in the war, one that went horribly for the United States and shocked the country out of its complacence that the war would be a short one. The 133rd marched toward Second Bull Run but by the time they got close the battle was in full gear. They spent two weeks on picket duty.
Then on September 14 an enraged 133rd went to meet the enemy in Maryland.
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave;
His soul's marching on!
They will hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!
As they march along!
Maryland was a state that the U.S. had to keep. A “Border State,” it virtually surrounded Washington, D.C. Its loss would have necessitated moving the capital. As it was Maryland’s instability kept Washington and President Lincoln skittish deep into the war. The 133rd was enraged because some Confederate units in Maryland were threatening neighboring counties in Pennsylvania and the 133rd was Pennsylvanian.
On September 18, the 133rd arrived at Antietam, Maryland but the Battle of Antietam had begun on September 17 and on the 18th there was a lull. Then, on the 19th the Confederates withdrew. There is insufficient evidence that Robert E. Lee's decision to withdraw his army was tied to the arrival of the 133rd Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers.
Although the men missed out on the fighting Antietam proved instructive, for proximity to the battlefield acquainted them with the corporeal results. As they marched out they saw and smelled the countless decaying bodies of both armies. They bivouacked just a mile away at Sharpsburg.
Any prior deficiency in Francis Flannigan's preparation of the men of Company F was corrected at Sharpsburg for at Sharpsburg they remained for the next six weeks and drilled. And drilled.
"The first thing in the morning is drill, then drill, then drill again. Then drill, drill, a little more drill. Then drill, and lastly drill. Between drills, we drill and sometimes stop to eat a little and have a roll-call."
While the men of the 133rd were busy drilling at Sharpsburg they experienced another result of Antietam: Abraham Lincoln changed the purpose of the war.
to be continued.
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