Disaster in Tennessee – news from Harper’s Weekly

Confederate raider John Hunt Morgan

At Hartsville, Tennessee, on December 6, the rebel guerrilla [John Hunt] Morgan made an attack upon the brigade commanded by General Moore at that place, which consisted of the 104th Illinois, Colonel Moore commanding brigade; 106th Ohio, Colonel Lafel; 108th Ohio, Colonel Limberg; Nicklen’s battery, and a small detachment of the 2d Indiana cavalry. After fighting an hour and a quarter our forces surrendered, and the enemy burned our camp, capturing nearly all the brigade, train, and teams, and burning what they could not carry away. Two guns of Nicklen’s battery were also captured. Our loss was between 50 and 60 killed and wounded, who were left on the field. The rebel loss is not reported. Morgan’s force consisted of three regiments of cavalry and two of infantry. It was said that Morgan made another attack upon General Fry’s position at Gallatin the same afternoon, but met with a serious repulse. General Fry was speedily reinforced, and pursued the enemy. It would appear that in the attack at Hartsville some of our troops behaved badly, while others fought gallantly to the last.

Source: December 20, 1862 Harper’s Weekly. Harper’s also covered a raid of Morgan in the August 13, 1863 edition.

Note: the action referred to in the above Harper’s Weekly excerpt was officially part of the Stone’s River campaign. The Hartsville action saw 2,004 total casualties.  The Federals suffered 1,855 casualties and the CSA only suffered 149.

Did they have Civil War re-enactors in 1864?

Some things don’t appear to change.  These soldiers from 1864 look somewhat similar to some modern-day re-enactors I’ve seen.

Source: December 3rd, 1864 Harper’s Weekly (p. 784).

These Confederate re-enactors took part in the June 2008 McGavock Cemetery annual memorial service.

Harper’s Weekly, June 14, 1862 – account of the abduction of the Planter

Harper’s Weekly published a prominent article called “The Steamer Planter and Her Captor,” June 14, 1862: pp 372-373.

This may be a reprint from the NY Herald.

The article reads in full:

THE STEAMER “PLANTER” AND HER CAPTOR.

WE publish herewith an engraving of the steamer Planter, lately run out of Charleston by her negro crew, and a portrait of her captain, ROBERT SMALLS-both from photographs sent us by our correspondent at Hilton Head. The following, from the Herald correspondence, will explain the transaction:

One of the most daring and heroic adventures since the war commenced was undertaken and successfully accomplished by a party of negroes in Charleston on Monday night last. Nine colored men, comprising the pilot, engineers, and crew of the rebel gun-boat Planter, took the vessel under their exclusive control, passed the batteries and forts in Charleston harbor, hoisted a white flag, ran out to the blockading squadron, and thence to Port Royal, via St. Helena Sound and Broad River, reaching the flag-ship Wabash shortly after ten o’clock last evening.

The following are the names of the black men who performed this gallant and perilous service: Robert Smalls, pilot; John Smalls and Alfred Gradine, engineers; Abraham Jackson, Gabriel Turno, William Morrison, Samuel Chisholm, Abraham Allston, and David Jones. They brought with them the wife and three children of the pilot, and the wife, child, and sister of the first engineer, John Smalls. The balance of the party were without families.

The Planter is a high-pressure, side-wheel steamer, one hundred and forty feet in length, and about fifty feet beam, and draws about five feet of water. She was built in Charleston, was formerly used as a cotton-boat, and is capable of carrying about 1400 bales. On the organization of the Confederate navy she was transformed into a gun-boat, and was the most valuable war vessel the Confederates had at Charleston. Her armament consisted of one 32-pound rifle gun forward, and a 24-pound howitzer aft. Besides, she had on board when she came into the harbor one seven-inch rifled gun, one eight-inch Columbiad, one eight-inch howitzer, one long 32-pounder, and about two hundred rounds of ammunition, which had been consigned to Fort Ripley, and which would have been delivered at that fortification on Tuesday had not the designs of the rebel authorities been frustrated. She was commanded by Captain Relay [sic] Relyea, of the Confederate navy—all the other employes of the vessel, excepting the first and second mates, being persons of color.

Robert Smalls, with whom I had a brief interview at General Benham’s head-quarters this morning, is an intelligent negro, born in Charleston, and employed for many years as a pilot in and about that harbor. He entered upon his duties on board the Planter some six weeks since, and, as he told me, adopted the idea of running the vessel to sea from a joke which one of his companions perpetrated. He immediately cautioned the crew against alluding to the matter in any way on board the boat, but asked them, if they wanted to talk it up in sober earnestness, to meet at his house, where they would devise and determine upon a plan to place themselves under the protection of the Stars and Stripes instead of the Stars and Bars. Various plans were proposed, but finally the whole arrangement of the escape was left to the discretion and sagacity of Robert, his companions promising to obey him and be ready at a moment’s notice to accompany him. For three days he kept the provisions of the party secreted in the hold, awaiting an opportunity to slip away. At length, on Monday evening, the white officers of the vessel went on shore to spend the night, intending to start on the following morning for Fort Ripley, and to be absent from the city for some days. The families of the contrabands were notified and came stealthily on board. At about three o’clock the fires were lit under the boilers, and the vessel steamed quietly away down the harbor. The tide was against her, and Fort Sumter was not reached till broad daylight. However, the boat passed directly under its walls, giving the usual signal—two long pulls and a jerk at the whistle-cord—as she passed the sentinel.

Once out of range of the rebel guns the white flag was raised, and the Planter steamed directly for the blockading steamer Augusta. Captain Parrott, of the latter vessel, as you may imagine, received them cordially, heard their report, placed Acting-Master Watson, of his ship, in charge of the Planter, and sent the Confederate gun-boat and crew forward to Commodore Dupont. The families of the crew have been sent to Beaufort, where General Stevens will make suitable provision for them. The crew will be taken care of by Commodore Dupont.

The Planter is just such a vessel is needed to navigate the shallow waters between Hilton Head and the adjacent islands, and will prove almost invaluable to the Government. It is proposed, I hear, by the Commodore, to recommend an appropriation of $20,000 as a reward to the plucky Africans who have distinguished themselves by this gallant service—$5000 to be given to the pilot, and the remainder to be divided among his companions.

Our correspondent sends us a drawing of an infernal machine, drawn by one of the negro hands of the Planter named Morrison. This chattel, Morrison, gives the following account of himself:

Belonged to Emile Poinchignon; by trade a tinsmith and plumber; has lived all his life in Charleston; was drum-major of the first regiment of the Fourth Brigade South Carolina Militia, and paraded on the 25th of last month; has a wife and two children in Montgomery, Alabama, whom he expects to see when the war is over. I asked him how he learned to read and write. Answer: “I stole it in the night, Sir.”

“Unconditional surrender!” Grant.

“No terms except unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted.”Union General Ulysses S. Grant, at Fort Donelson, Tennessee
February 16, 1862

HARPER’S WEEKLY.
SATURDAY, MARCH 1, 1862.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

THE capture of Fort Donelson, with 15,000 men, including both the Generals Buckner and Bushrod Johnston, is probably the culminating point in the struggle between the United States Government and the malcontents. At the hour we write General Buell, with 80,000 men, is pressing upon the Cumberland River; while General Grant, with 50,000, and Flag-officer Foote, with his gun-boat and mortar fleet, are ascending the same stream from the bend at Dover. Rumor states that the remnant of the garrison of Fort Donelson, with part of the Bowling Green army, have taken refuge at Clarksville, and seem disposed to make a stand there. If they do, they will inevitably share the fate of the army which has just surrendered. The events of the past week have rendered its indisputable masters of the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers, of Nashville and all Northern Tennessee, and of the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad. Wherever we meet the enemy we shall be three to one, and by far superior to them in equipments, commissariat, clothing, transportation, and arms.

The fate of Columbus, Memphis, and consequently New Orleans, is now sealed. It is hardly probable that the right reverend rebel Leonidas Polk will wait to be caught in the trap he has built for himself at Columbus. If he does, we shall by-and-by take him and all his force without firing a gun. If he evacuates his present post, the rebels themselves admit that they can not defend any other point on the Mississippi. One Union army of enormous strength will advance on Memphis from Nashville, while another Union army under Halleck’s generals will drive Price before them through Arkansas, and both will meet on the Mississippi in time to co-operate with Flag-officer Foote’s gun-boat and mortar-fleet. Unless some unforeseen accident occurs the whole Mississippi will be ours, from the Gulf to Cairo, by 15th March.

Meanwhile, Burnside is cutting off the retreat of the Virginia army through North Carolina, and making ready to take Norfolk. When he was at the mouth of the Roanoke the people of Weldon fled from their houses. Norfolk should be in our possession as soon as Memphis.

Simultaneously, Dupont and Sherman are moving against Savannah, and Commodore Porter’s fleet is on the way to Mobile and New Orleans.

Against such a combination of forces working together on such a plan, how long can the rebellion last?

Star of the West fired upon in Charleston Harbor

January 9, 1861 – The unarmed vessel, Star of the West, arrives to reinforce the Federal garrison of soldiers at Ft. Sumter in Charleston harbor and is fired upon by southerners. The reinforcements are never delivered.

The January 26, 1861 edition of Harper’s Weekly featured the following illustration, showing the First Shot of the Civil War. The first shot was fired on January 10, 1861. It was fired by the South Carolinians on Morris Island. They fired on the Union Ship “Star of the West” as it attempted to reinforce Major Anderson at Fort Sumter.

Harper’s Weekly, January 26, 1861

THE FIRING ON THE ” STAR OF THE WEST.”

WE publish on page 52 a fine illustration of the firing on the Star of the West from the Morris Island Battery, Harbor of Charleston, on 10th January, 1861. The event was mentioned in our last Number ; and it is only necessary to say here that she was on her way to Fort Sumter with men and supplies for the reinforcement of Major Anderson. The captain of the Star of the West, by name M’Gowan, gives the following account of the event:

“When we arrived about two miles from Fort Moultrie —fort Sumter being about the same distance—a masked battery on Morris Island, where there was a red Palmetto flag flying, opened fire upon us—distance, about five-eighths of a mile. We had the American flag flying at our flag-staff at the time, and, soon after the first shot, hoisted a large American ensign at the fore. We continued on under the fire of the battery for over ten minutes, several of the shots going clean over us. One passed just clear of the pilot-house. Another passed between the smoke-stack and walking-beams of the engine. Another struck the ship just abaft the fore-rigging, and stove in the planking; and another came within an ace of carrying away the rudder. At the same time there was a movement of two steamers from near Fort Moultrie—one of them towing a schooner (I presume an armed schooner) —with the intention of cutting us off. Our position now became rather critical, as we had to approach Fort Moultrie to within three-fourths of a mile before we could keep away for Fort Sumter. A steamer approaching us with an armed schooner in tow, and the battery on the Island firing at us all the time, and having no cannon to defend ourselves from the attack of the vessels, we concluded that, to avoid certain capture or destruction, we would endeavor to get to sea. Consequently, we wore round and steamed down the channel, the battery firing upon us until their shot fell short.”

A reporter of the Evening Post, who was on board, thus describes the scene:

” On we go; the soldiers are below with loaded muskets, and the officers are ready to give the word if there is anything to do. Now it is broad daylight, and we are making directly into the guns of Fort Moultrie, whose black walls are distinctly visible. The little steamer at our right is burning a signal light aft, and is making all possible head-way up the harbor. Now we discover a red Palmetto flag at our left on Morris Island, a little village called Cummings Point, and apparently but little more than a mile from Fort Sumter.

” ‘Is it possible that those fellows have got a battery off here?’ asks one.

” No,’ answers another, ‘ there is no battery there.’

“But there is. It is now a quarter past seven, and we are about two miles from Forts Sumter and Moultrie, which are equidistant from us, and, suddenly, whiz-z! comes a richochet shot from Morris Island. It plunges into the water and skips along, but falls short of our steamer. The line was forward of our bow, and was, of course, an invitation to stop. But we are not ready to accept the proffered hospitality, and the captain pays no attention to it, except to run up the stars and stripes at the mast-head—a garrison flag which was on board. A moment of anxious suspense, and bang! goes a heavy cannon from the same masked battery. The shot falls short of us a hundred yards or more, and bounds clean over our vessel aft, nearly on a line with the head of a sailor, but luckily a little above it.

” On we go, and—whizz ! again goes the smaller gun first fired, and another richochet shot skips along the water and falls short of us.

“‘ Booh !’ exclaims the captain ; ‘ you must give us bigger guns than that, boys, or you can not hurt us.’

“On we go, without heeding the compliments of our Charleston friends. Another moment and bang! again goes the heavy gun. The ball now strikes our ship in the fore chains, about two feet above the water. A seaman was holding the lead to take the soundings, and the ball struck directly under his feet. It is not surprising that, under the circumstances, Jack was strongly inclined to take to his heels, and he begins to scramble up with might and main, when the captain assures him that there is no danger, one ball having struck so near him; on the principle, I suppose, that lightning never strikes twice in the same place. Jack, reassured, patiently takes his place and drops the lead again.

“The ball, fortunately, was too far spent to go through the side of our vessel, although it left an honorable scar.

The battery continues to play upon us, and a huge ball comes clean over us, near the wheel-house. We are not yet within range of the guns of Fort Moultrie, and yonder is a cutter in tow of a steamboat, preparing to open fire upon us. A moment longer, and we shall be in range of these three batteries. The gunners on Morris Island are growing confident; if they get the right range they will send a shot through our side, scattering death and destruction. Moultrie, directly in front, will bring her heavy guns to bear, and will drive their deadly missiles into our bow, while the cutter will open on our right.

” Why does not Major Anderson open fire upon that battery and save us? We look in vain for help; the American flag flies from Fort Sumter, and the American flag at our bow and stern is fired upon, yet there is not the slightest recognition of our presence from the fort from which we look for protection. The unexpected battery on Morris Island has cut off all hope of escape by running the vessel aground near Sumter and taking to the boats. Is it possible that Fort Sumter has been taken by the South Carolinians? If it has not, why does not Major Anderson show that he will protect us, or at least recognize us in some way ? To go within range of the guns of Fort Moultrie is to expose vessel, men, and stores to almost instant destruction, or to capture by the enemy.

“‘ Helm out of port!’ shouts the Captain, and the Star of the West is turned about without any great loss of time, as you may well imagine. We turn without accident, and steam away, with the stars and stripes still floating, and the battery still playing upon us by way of a parting salute.”

A person who was on Morris Island at the time of the firing thus describes the excitement:

“The shots were fired by the Citadel Cadets, under command of Major Stephens, who has thus had the honor, which he so much coveted, of opening the impending conflict. Major Stephens is at the head of the State Military Academy, which occupies the Charleston Citadel. He is apparently about thirty-five years of age, with rather thin black hair, black and heavy beard, and large black eyes. He is about the medium size, of lithe form, with quick, nervous motions. His guns were directed at the steamer with scientific accuracy, and even the shot which failed to strike the ship fell very near her. Her flag was pulled down, and she immediately retreated. She was struck certainly three times, and perhaps five. The last shot which took effect was fired after she had turned to go out. The steamer was seen to shoot forward with a jerk the instant this shot struck her. Two balls were seen to strike her hull; one just forward of her wheel-house, the other upon the larboard quarter.”

A Bivouac Fire on the Potomac

Bivouac on a Mountain side
Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

I see before me now a traveling army halting,
Below a fertile valley spread,
with barns and the orchards of summer,
Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain,
abrupt, in places rising high,
Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars,
with tall shapes dingily seen,
The numerous camp-fires scatter’d near and far, some away up on the mountain,
The shadowy forms of men and horses,
looming, large-sized, flickering,
And over all the sky — the sky! far, far out of reach, studded, breaking out, the eternal Stars

He has gone, and I have sent him! Poem

He has gone, and I have sent him!
Think you I would bid him stay,
Leaving, craven-like, to others
All the burden of the day?
All the burden? nay, the triumph!
Is is hard to understand
All the joy that thrills the hero
Battling for his native land?

He has gone, and I have sent him!
Could I keep him at my side
While the brave old ship that bears us
Plunges in the perilous tide?
Nay, I blush but at the question,
What am I, that I should chill
All his brave and generous promptings
Captive to a woman’s will?

He has gone, and I have sent him!
I have buckled on his sword,
I have bidden him strike for Freedom,
For his country, for the Lord!
As I marked his lofty bearing,
And the flush upon his cheek,
I have caught my heart rebelling
That my woman’s arm is weak.

He has gone, and I have sent him!
Not without a thought of pain,
For I know the war’s dread chances,
And we may not meet again.
Life itself is but a lending,
He that gave perchance may take;
If it be so, I will bear it
Meekly for my country’s sake.

He has gone, and I have sent him!
This henceforth be my pride,
I have given my cherished darling
Freely to the righteous side.
I, with all a mother’s weakness,
Hold him now without a flaw;
Yet when he returns I’ll hail him
Twice as noble as before.

Source: Harper’s Weekly, November 1, 1862 [page 696]. Used by permission. This issue can be purchased as a re-print.

The Recruit

The recruit — our latest acquisition — was so interesting. His nice, clean clothes, new hat, new shoes, trimming on his shirt front, letters and cross guns on his hat, new knife for all the fellows to borrow, nice comb for general use, nice little glass to shave by, good smoking tobacco, money in his pocket to lend out; oh! what a great convenience he was. How many things he had that a fellow could borrow, and how willing he was to go on guard, and get wet, and give away his rations, and bring water, and cut wood, and ride horses to water; and he was so clean and sweet, and his cheeks so rosy, all the fellows wanted to bunk with him under his nice new blanket, and impart to him some of their numerous and energetic ‘tormentors.’

And then it was so interesting to hear him talk. He knew so much about war, arms, tents, knapsacks, ammunition, marching, fighting, camping, cooking, shooting, and everything a soldier is and does. It is remarkable how much a recruit and how little an old soldier knows about such things. After a while the recruit forgets all, and is as ignorant as any veteran. How good the fellows were to a really gentlemanly boy; how they loved him!

Harper’s Weekly, September 7, 1861

Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. I. Richmond, Virginia., February, 1876. No. 2
Camp Fires Of The Boys In Gray.

The wounded

William Thompson, of Mississippi (speaking of James Magnum) talks about the wounded at Shiloh:

I began to see men on the ground and soon realized that they were hurt. At first I couldn’t see their faces. Maybe I didn’t want to see them. The first wounded man I recognized was my Uncle Henry’s eldest son, cousin James Magnum. He had been shot in the face. I wanted to help him . . . Everyone was moving forward . . . . We just had to get at those Federals who were shooting at us.

3.8 million men (and many boys) fought during the American Civil War, from 1861 – 1865.  2.8 million fought to preserve the Union, and just over 1 million fought for the Confederacy.

For every 1,000 Federals (roughly the size of a Regiment), 112 were wounded. 150 of every 1,000 Confederates were wounded.

While a Union soldier stood a 1 in 18 chance of dying in battle, he stood a 1 in 8 chance of dying of disease. Johnny Reb stood a 1 in 5 chance of dying of disease and a 1 in 8 chance of dying in combat.

From 1861-1865 the Union had 275,000 wounded soldiers in battle. 61% were from gunshot or artillery. The South saw 125,000 total wounded. The three major U.S. wars, prior to the Civil War, only saw about 15,000 wounded men and just 8,000 total deaths. At Shiloh, on April 6-7, 1862, there were 16,000 men wounded in a 48 hour period. That is more wounded than in all three previous pre-Civil War battles combined. 3,500 men, on both sides, lost their lives at Shiloh.

These kind of casualty numbers caused an enormous strain on the medical care required for the soldiers. When the War broke out there were just 113 surgeons in the U.S. Army, by the end there would be 12,000 in the Union ranks, and an additional 3,200 in the Confederate Army.

Many men no doubt expired on the field having simply bled to death before proper care could be administered. There may have even been cases of an army bayoneting the wounded after a battle, as was recorded in Harper’s Weekly (August 17, 1861).

William Thompson, of Mississippi (speaking of James Magnum) talks about the wounded at Shiloh:

I began to see men on the ground and soon realized that they were hurt. At first I couldn’t see their faces. Maybe I didn’t want to see them. The first wounded man I recognized was my Uncle Henry’s eldest son, cousin James Magnum. He had been shot in the face. I wanted to help him . . . Everyone was moving forward . . . . We just had to get at those Federals who were shooting at us.

Care for the wounded improved greatly as the War drew on. Mortality rates for surgeries especially improved as doctors improved their understanding of the body, disease, and the application of medical procedures.

Sources: The Civil War Times, October 2004 issue.

The Forager was a good fellow.

The Forager was a good fellow. He always divided with the mess. If there was buttermilk anywhere inside of ten miles he found it. Apples he could smell from afar off. If anybody was killing pork in the county he got the spareribs. If a man had a cider cart on the road he saw him first and bought him out. No hound had a keener scent, no eagle a sharper eye. How indefatigable he was. Distance, rivers, mountains, pickets, patrols, roll calls — nothing could stop or hinder him. He never bragged about his exploits — simply brought in the spoils, laid them down and said, ‘pitch in.’ Not a word of the weary miles he had traveled, how he begged or how much he had paid — simply ‘pitch in.’

Harper’s Weekly, August 17, 1861

Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. I. Richmond, Virginia., February, 1876. No. 2
Camp Fires Of The Boys In Gray.