behind AotW

I apologize to you if you’re interested in history, but not the Digital kind, especially. The past several posts have undoubtedly glazed your eyes, and those of most readers, I should think.

Let’s get back to another of the notable people of Antietam and a quick look at history from her perspective.

This dedicated looking woman is Isabella Fogg, a volunteer with the Maine Camp and Hospital Association, and mother of a soldier in the 6th Maine Infantry¹. On the first of November 1862, about 6 weeks after the battle of Antietam, she ventured out from Washington DC to observe the conditions of the sick and wounded troops around Sharpsburg, and to do what she could for their comfort.

Let me introduce you to “Gus” Osborne, late of North Carolina and Confederate service.

As a 25 year old Captain, he briefly led the 4th Regiment of North Carolina State Troops in action in the Sunken Road at Sharpsburg on September 17th, 1862, before being struck down and captured by the enemy there. He survived both that experience and the War, however, living to be nearly 90 years of age.

Edwin Osborne, 1864-5

Edwin Augustus Young Osborne was raised by his “pioneer” father, Dr. Ephriam Osborne, in the wilds of Alabama, Arkansas, and Texas in the 1840s and 50s before coming to North Carolina at age 22. Family lore has it that he walked alone from Texas to an aunt’s in Charlotte, and that he enrolled in a military school at Statesville.

He probably helped raise a company of soldiers in Iredell County, and was commissioned Captain in what became Company H of the 4th NCST as that unit was organized in May of 1861. He served with his Regiment in the campaigns of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia thereafter. He was wounded in action at Seven Pines in May 1862, but was back with his unit in time to join the Maryland Campaign.

As I was exploring Mansfield Monument Road northeast of Sharpsburg, on the way to the upper bridge last Saturday, I passed two men, each in their own cars, stopped along the road facing the Battlefield. Looked like they were waiting for something.

I drove about 100 yards past, and stopped at the high ground on that stretch. The highest point before the land dives down a couple of more ridges to Antietam Creek about 1/2 mile east.

I got out, took my bearings–glad to see the wings of the eagle atop the New York State monument just poking over the trees about a mile and a half to the west–and tried to be William French. I looked at the map some more, put it away, and turned toward the bridge. Lost in my own, ancient place.

Who you following? a voice shouted up the road.

What? Not sure what I heard. I turned to see the two guys were striding up the hill toward me.

Following First Corps?

No, I yelled back, French’s Division, Second Corps.

Last month Fred Ray posted some interesting discussion on the question of why French swung his division south into the Sunken Road, rather than pushing more westerly, directly behind Sedgwick at Antietam.

These two generals led divisions in Edwin Sumner’s Federal Second (II) Corps on the Maryland Campaign. Brigadier General John Sedgwick, with “Bull” Sumner in the van, crossed the Antietam over the upper bridge, and at Pry’s ford just downstream, between 7:30 and 8 o’clock in the morning of 17 September 1862. BGen William French crossed his men at the ford 15 or 20 minutes behind Sedgwick.

… the division, marching in three columns of brigades, Max Weber on the left, the new regiments in the center, and Kimball’s brigade on the right. When my left flank had cleared the ford a mile, the division faced to the left, forming three lines of battle adjacent to and contiguous with Sedgwick’s, and immediately moved to the front …
(BGen French, from his Report)

Carman has Sedgwick slightly in advance of French at point “a” on the map by about 8:30 am. I believe that’s the spot where French says he faced left and formed lines. It would have been the last place he would have been likely to actually see Sedgewick, if, in fact he was even in contact at that point.

I drove and walked the ground from the East Woods, through that spot, to the Upper Bridge and near Pry’s Ford Saturday afternoon. I’d never been up that way before. What an eye-opener.

Doing research into the people and events of the Maryland Campaign is often a game of large effort invested for little return. In some cases, though, the reverse is true, and the clues revealed can be a bit overwhelming.

One such case is a story I’ve been working on and off for about a year now. It centers on Captain Enoch E. Lewis, Company K, 71st Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers. Or maybe it centers on President Lincoln, I’m not sure yet. All I have right now is a collection of hints and pointers to interesting relationships and events.

The bare bones are these:

Lewis, a young lawyer of privileged background, of Philadelphia society, joined Oregon Senator Edward Baker‘s famed ‘California Regiment’ in 1861 as Captain of Company K. He served bravely in action through the battle of Antietam (September 1862), where he briefly succeeded to command of the regiment as senior officer present.

There is significant evidence that he and (by then) Major R. Penn Smith, another Philadelphia dandy who was the regiment’s first Adjutant, had clashed personally and professionally. Was it a long-standing feud? Slights given and received while in service? Perhaps both, I can’t tell yet.

Following Antietam, Captain Lewis was reported absent and shortly afterward charged–presumably by Major Smith– then arrested and court-martialled for being absent without permission and conduct ‘unbecoming an officer’ and ‘prejudicial to good order and discipline’.

This post properly belongs as a comment on Dimitri Rotov’s blog, which doesn’t offer that facility.

I’ve been following Dimitri’s series on the appointments of McClellan’s Corps commanders. Intriguing material, though I confess I’m not sure what most of it means. Probably because I lack the background in the more subtle political machinations within the Lincoln Administration. I’m learning.

Yesterday, I read his related piece called Sumner, McClellan, Johnston, and Davis which deals with the relationship(s) between George McClellan and Edwin Sumner.

At the time of the Crimean War, Edwin V. Sumner was the commander of the First U.S. Cavalry Regiment. Joe Johnston was his lieutenant colonel and George McClellan one of his captains (i.e. squadron commanders).

Dimitri notes that Johnston thought very little of Sumner, and was convinced the old fool had it all wrong when it came to the new Cavalry arm and managing his Regiment. So Johnston suggests McClellan–then on the Commission to the Crimean War–work up doctrine for how US Cavalry should be run, and feed it to the War Department. McClellan having the ear of Secretary of War Jefferson Davis.

Someone must save the Cavalry from Sumner, but McClellan and Johnston are disappointed in their quest.

Davis, says Dimitri,

… foreshadowing the typology of stubborness that has become an ACW cliche, refused to be moved by McClellan’s overtures. Sumner would remain undisturbed by new thinking.

… Odd to think that Sumner was, in his way, the root cause of McClellan’s resignation.

So there you have it. Sumner the mismanaging, bumbling old man; Davis too stubborn to recognize the Future; Johnston the instigator; and McClellan, Army visionary, becomes the victim, after trying to do the right thing.

As I read Dimitri’s post, though, quite a different image jumped to my mind.

still from the Caine Mutiny, 1954
[plot summary]

Yes, I know it’s only a movie.

I don’t intend to make a habit of simply linking to other blogs, but in this case I hope you’ll let me slide.

As sighted on the latest History Carnival, “Greenman Tim” Abbot has written a thoughtful piece called “Little Mac” Attack: History vs. the Soldier’s View on his Walking the Berkshires blog. Nothing earth-shattering, perhaps, but a different perspective from the average. Almost never a bad thing.

He gives a nice synopsis of the subject:

I have often wondered at the disconnect between the deep affection the Army of the Potomac had for its ill-starred commander and the verdict of history. His men by their own accounts adored him. Lincoln was certain the soldier votes of McClellan’s veterans would cost him re-election in 1864 when “Little Mac” ran on the Democratic ticket. Yet armchair generals and Civil War buffs alike condemn McClellan as a failed and self-promoting army commander who may have been an efficient administrator but who consistently over-estimated his foes and was outgeneraled time and again on the Peninsula.

He quotes from a letter of a Captain Read (of BGen Brooks‘ staff) talking about McClellan’s having been relieved of command of the Army of the Potomac soon after Antietam, in November 1862:

“… It is the feeling in the camp that a deep act of injustice has been done, purely from political motives, and there is a general indignation manifested. The demonstrations of affection with which little “Mac” was received by his troops as he paid them a farewell visit it is beyond the power of pen to describe …”

Later Tim makes a simple statement that also summarizes my own take on General McClellan

McClellan is a complex figure.

Aren’t we all?

As many others have observed, one of the best things about the Web is the great range it covers, and new contacts it brings. What ever else it is, AotW is a honeytrap – drawing people worldwide with interest in the battle. A small but impressive minority of these visitors have something to contribute. It’s always a thrill to hear from them.

Once such Internet-friend, Mr John Jackson, has been doing marvelous work in researching and documenting Kansans and Kansas in the Civil War. He has twice now suggested obituaries for Antietam soldiers from among his boys, both also Medal of Honor holders.

A great huzzah for Mr Jackson!

Last month he pointed me to the musically named Orpheus Saeger Woodward. This week he’s introduced me to Henry Seymour Hall.

Lt. Col. H.S. Hall, c. 1864

Hall was awarded the Medal of Honor in 1891 for bravery on two occasions during the War: for continuing to lead his company in the attack while wounded at Gaines’ Mill (June 1862) and for service in rallying troops at Rappahannock Station (November 1863).

From a farming family in east-central New York state, he was 25 years old and in his final year at Genesee College (later Syracuse University) when War began in 1861. He organized a Company of fellow students–later Co. G–and enlisted with them in the new 27th New York Infantry as Private in April that year. He was almost immediately appointed 2nd Lieutenant and served with the 27th on the Peninsular Campaign. He was promoted to Captain in command of the Company to date from April 1862. It was at that rank that he fought at Crampton’s Gap, Antietam, Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville.

He was honorably mustered out as the 27th Infantry’s term of service expired on 31 May 1863, but was back in service just over two weeks later, appointed Captain in the 121st New York Volunteers on 16 June.

In May 1864 he left to accept a commission as Lieutenant Colonel of the new 43rd Regiment, United States Colored Troops. He was severely wounded in action at the Crater, near Petersburg, on 30 July, losing his right arm.

While recuperating, he served as a mustering officer in Washington, but was back with the 43rd at Richmond by 3 April 1865. He was also with them at Brownsville, Texas under Sheridan, then on independent duty at Galveston until returning to Washington and mustering out of the Army on 13 February 1866.

He had been honored, in March 1865, by brevet to Colonel and Brigadier General of Volunteers for his exceptional War service.

Immediately after the War he returned briefly to New York, but soon moved to a farm he’d bought in Carroll County, Missouri, where he was also active in local politics. Some time later he was in Lincoln, Nebraska, and in 1888 he moved for the last time to Lawrence, Kansas where he lived his last 20 years.

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Information above from the (Lawrence) Daily Gazette obituary posted by Mr Johnson, Heitman’s Register, pg. 489, and Hall’s MoH citation. The photograph is from Generals of the Civil War.

A quick Huzzah! for the fine folks at the US Army’s Military History Institute (USAMHI), Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania. I’m sorry to say I’ve never visited in person, but they have been immensely helpful to me over several years by snail and email.

Most recently, I heard from Mr Richard Baker, a Technical Information Specialist at the Institute. I had asked for a copy of a standing portrait photograph of Major Edmund Rice, 19th Massachusetts Infantry. I’d also noticed some confusion in the caption in another picture of the Major–grouped with officers of the 17th Michigan Infantry–published in William C. Davis’ Touched by Fire. In addition to sending me the requested photo, Mr Baker went above and beyond by also finding the original image Mr Davis used, and identifying all the officers therein (Rice; Lt. Harrison Berdan, 5th Michigan Cavalry; Captains Delos Phillips and Benjamin Safford, 17th Michigan Infantry).

This kind of service is probably the norm at the USAMHI, but it knocked my socks off.
Huzzah! Huzzah!

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Here’s a scan, by the way, of that portrait of Rice. One tough customer.

After living in the neighborhood for more than 15 years, I finally visited the old St. James Cemetery just over a block from our house. It’s fairly small, maybe 200 yards square, and is tucked in among the homes in a quiet residential area. Established in 1873, it was company to a chapel of that name, which moved to a large, new, impressive church on the other side of our little town in 1902.

One of the most prominent stones is also accompanied by a Confederate flag and “Cross of Honor”. It marks the graves of Fountain Beattie (1840-1923) and his wife Annie (1846-1911). It’s in a family row ending with a burial in the 1960s. The dog and I returned last weekend to get some photos.

Fountain is probably one of “my guys”. I’m not absolutely certain he was at Sharpsburg in September 1862, but it is likely.

He is perhaps best known to students of John Singleton Mosby – the Gray Ghost – who operated as a “partisan ranger” across Northern Virginia for most of the War. Beattie and Mosby were privates and tentmates in the Washington Mounted Rifles, which became Company D of the 1st Virginia Cavalry in July 1861. By July 1862 Mosby was a Lieutenant and scout on JEB Stuart’s staff; Beattie was still a private with the 1st Virginia.