Friday, May 26, 2017

Please step into my Civil War research room

A sampling of regimental histories in my collection.
 Like this blog on Facebook.

The Internet Archive hasn't mastered the fabulous smell of old books, but it continues to do a tremendous job digitizing old -- and often rare -- published works from U.S. history, including many Civil War regimental histories. On my blog, I have created a one-stop shop for those histories here. The regimentals are invaluable research tool for everything from little-known battlefield stories to war-time and post-war images of soldiers and battlefields. I have about a dozen original regimental histories in my collection in the nooks and crannies of Banks Manor. For this absent-minded blogger, it's great to find them all in one place.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

'Badly cut up' at Antietam, Sharpshooters have striking story

Captain John Saunders (far left) with soldiers in his command in the Andrew's Sharpshooters.
 Like this blog on Facebook.

While most other Antietam visitors explore Burnside Bridge or Bloody Lane, I often make a beeline to an out-of-the-way battlefield spot on a knoll overlooking busy Maryland Route 65, deep in the re-planted West Woods.  A large, bronze plaque on the reverse of the 15th Massachusetts monument there lists 106 soldiers in the regiment who were killed or mortally wounded in about 25 minutes of fierce fighting the morning of Sept. 17, 1862.

Eleven other names also appear on that plaque on the terrific "Wounded Lion" monument -- soldiers who were killed or mortally wounded fighting for one of the first units in American military history to be equipped with telescope-sighted rifles to enable long-distance targeting, The largely unheralded 1st Company Massachusetts Sharpshooters, also known as Andrew's Sharpshooters, was attached to the 15th Massachusetts at Antietam, where the 100-plus-soldier unit was, in the words of one of its men, "badly cut up."

Knocked "flatter than a flounder" by a bullet, sharpshooter Luke Bicknell was lucky to survive Antietam. A bullet grazed his throat, he wrote, and another zipped through his coat sleeve and yet another went through his pants, causing a flesh wound in his leg that "itched badly for a week." A piece of artillery shell also hit Bicknell in the right arm, turning it black and blue, and another piece struck him in the side, briefly knocking the breath out of him.

"Our Aim Was Man" is available on and elsewhere.
"If the war is to continue till the South is whipped," noted the lieutenant nearly three weeks after Antietam, "it will last a great while yet."

The Sharpshooters are subject of  "Our Aim Was Man"  (University of Massaschusetts Press), a book edited by Roberta Senechal de la Roche, a history professor at Washington and Lee University in Lexington, Va. Published in November 2016, it's based largely on letters, diaries and memoirs of four members of Andrew’s Sharpshooters, including Bicknell. Another is Private Moses Hill, a 38-year-old stone mason when he enlisted in September 1861, who happens to be Senechal de la Roche's great-great-grandfather. She inherited more than 60 of Hill's pre-war and war-time letters from her mother, who had stored the precious family correspondence in a cardboard box.

Senechal de la Roche has a Ph.D. in history from the University of Virginia, but her concentration wasn't Civil War history. Her interest in the subject, she explained, partly resulted from the convergence of several areas of interest. She has long enjoyed the Victorian era in the United States, both before and after the Civil War. Her second major interest is, well, violence -- "especially non-state collective violence, such as lynching, rioting and terrorism." At Washington and Lee, she teaches two interdisciplinary courses, “History of Violence in the United States” and a seminar called “9/11 and Modern Terrorism.”

Besides at Antietam, Andrew's Sharpshooters saw plenty of other violence during the Civil War, in battles during the Peninsula Campaign as well as at Fredericksburg and Gettysburg. Although she admits it "sounds odd," Senechal de la Roche has yet to visit Antietam, a battle her ancestor missed because of illness.

"Perhaps I have a too-active imagination," she said. "but I cannot yet picture myself walking the course of that company up to and through the West Woods. Their captain and most of his men who died there were simply put into the ground near where they fell, with no markers."

Besides exploring the darker side of humankind, Senechal de la Roche enjoys hiking and splitting wood. She's reading up on the war against the Barbary pirates during Thomas Jefferson’s presidency and aims to dig into Theodore Roosevelt’s The Naval War of 1812 as well as read more about the role of disease in the armies of the Civil War.

Senechal de la Roche recently answered a few of my questions about the Andrew's Sharpshooters, including one on its role at Antietam, where it fought without its heavy sniper rifles. That caused a near-mutiny. Read on.

Roberta Senechal de la Roche's great-great grandfather served in Andrew's Sharpshooters.
Who were the Andrew's Sharpshooters, and what about these soldiers made their story so interesting to you?

Senechal de la Roche: The Andrew’s Sharpshooters consisted of a little more than 100 men recruited from Eastern Massachusetts by John Saunders, an avid target-shooter and friend of Governor John Albion Andrew. After the company was formed, Captain Saunders named it in honor of the governor.

In terms of their background, Andrew’s Sharpshooters were more urban than the average Union recruit, and also were far more likely to be factory workers or independent skilled craftsmen than farmers. One contemporary writer called the majority of the men “old gunners,” since so many of them – well over a third – were 30 years old or older. Moses Hill would have qualified as one of them – he was 38 years old when he enlisted. One of his fellow riflemen was well into his 50s when he volunteered. And the men were large for this era. As Hill wrote home: “The Smartist & largest lot of men I never saw. We have a good meny men that weigh over two hundred pounds and some are six to six 3 in. high.” They had to be large because of the rifles they carried – “target rifles.”

Captain John Saunders was
killed at Antietam.
(Image courtesy Bob Carlson)
I eventually realized that these sharpshooters were not just men who were skilled with a rifle over long distances. They were part of new species of rifleman. They were among the first true snipers in the American military. Andrew’s Sharpshooters were all equipped with target rifles -- heavy weapons (15 to 30 pounds) with long-distance telescopes that extended the entire length of their thick, octagonal barrels. They claimed they were able to sometimes hit targets as far off as 1/4 to a 1/2 mile away. Hill served as a shooting instructor in the Company and mentioned that they sometimes practiced shooting at those distances.

I confess I succumbed to the (apparently widespread) fascination with elite riflemen like sharpshooters in general, and with snipers with telescoped rifles in particular. Some historians suggest that snipers were a little weird, a little abnormal, socially isolated, brooding loners, not like other people, somehow. Perhaps mentally ill, even. These views greatly added to my interest in researching the character, experiences and social life of the Andrew’s Sharpshooters. What were these men like? How did they view their role as snipers?

The four sharpshooters whose writings provide the story of the Company’s experiences over time paint a very different picture of what snipers were like. One of the things I noticed from the beginning about these men is how completely ordinary they were. They were professional and workmanlike. Like any soldier, they didn’t want to be fighting and shedding blood, but it was a job to be done, and they went about it in a very disciplined fashion. Moses Hill, for instance, wrote that he only shot people when it did some good for the country. He made it very clear that the snipers’ role was to protect the troops — especially from enemy artillery. His concept of what they were doing was not picking people off for the fun of it. Rather, he felt bad about the men he wasn’t able to protect. There were a few of the younger men who apparently bragged about how many they killed. But the four sharpshooters I studied seemed perfectly normal. They had lots of friends back home, and they were very sociable as they moved through the war.

Finally, I enjoyed the challenge involved in trying to find sources written by other members of the Company beyond my own great-great-grandfather’s letters. Writings by Civil War sharpshooters are very rare, and sources from snipers rarer still. I feel very fortunate indeed to have been able to locate three more Andrew’s Sharpshooters’ diaries, letters and one memoir. I was excited, too, because I realized that historians knew very little about how Union snipers were trained and deployed. We knew little about the weapons they used and how they performed their combat roles. The four Andrew’s Sharpshooters represented in “Our Aim Was Man” have, I believe, helped shed much- needed light on the experiences of genuine snipers in the Civil War.

At the 15th Massaachusetts monument at Antietam, collector Bob Carlson holds the revolver
 and field glass used by Andrew's Sharpshooter's Captain John Saunders.
(For a post on Carlson and his impressive Civil War collection, go here.) 
You had rich documentation to dive into for the book -- diaries, letters and memoirs. Describe the process as editor of determining what to include in the book.

Senechal de la Roche: When you edit documents such as these, you have try to keep the reader in mind at all times. The average reader for this volume is likely interested in military history first and foremost. But I am also a social historian, so I was interested in the questions of what the men’s home lives, work and community ties were like before the war, and the impact of the war on the women, children and others left behind on the home front. I hoped to help broaden the appeal of the book by linking the men to their domestic settings and personal involvements. Nonetheless, I felt I had to cut out large amounts of trivial detail that might confuse or bore the average reader because they were irrelevant to the larger (military) story line. For example, many of the men’s letters mentioned or asked about numerous people on the home front: “Has Uncle X gone fishing again? Has Cousin Y’s hay ripened yet? Is Molly the mare over her lameness?” A little bit of such everyday matters goes a long way. While many soldiers longed to hear about such homey details, good editing demanded that many of them be left out.

I did occasionally include other very detailed home front material. A good example here, I think, are the courtship letters sharpshooter Luke Bicknell sent home. Their content is pretty evenly divided between military details pertaining to the sharpshooters on the one hand, and florid expressions of affection, fantasies and fond memories on the other. I had to decide whether to -- as I thought of it -- take the love out of the love letters and focus on Bicknell’s military experiences alone. I decided to keep all of the sentimental details. Those who read early drafts of the book said they enjoyed the love letters. I also thought that such material might modify widespread negative stereotypes concerning snipers -- help humanize and normalize them. One of the early anonymous reviewers of the book manuscript remarked that by the end of the book, he or she had “come to care about the men” – all four of them. I took that as a promising sign.

Featured in "Our Aim Was Man," Private Ferdinand Crossman died as a POW 
at Andersonville, where he is buried. The cenotaph above is in Sutton (Mass.) Cemetery.
Of the soldiers in Andrew's Sharpshooters mentioned in the book, who do you find most compelling, and why?

Senechal de la Roche: That is a very difficult question! The four men were very different, each with a unique perspective and unique voice.

One was bound for Harvard when the war broke out and changed his plans. He was very literate and cultured. He made a fearless (and sometimes reckless) young lieutenant. In addition to his wartime letters to his fiancĂ©e, he produced a 100-page typescript memoir of his service with Andrew’s Sharpshooters. Another was a shoe factory worker who made brief diary entries. He worried constantly about his wife and ended up being deathly sick and deserting, only to re-enlist with an Ohio regiment. My relative, Moses Hill, was a skilled stonecutter, who, among other things, cut and lettered gravestones for his deceased townsmen and women. In his letters he expressed almost an artist’s eye for details of camp life and training. The fourth was a young, up-and-coming farmer who wrote letters home to his wife. (Read more about that farmer, Ferdinand Crossman, here on my blog.) His letters and his wife’s diaries bring to life the challenges posed by the war for small farmers and their families. He was the proverbial tough “salt-of–the earth” type: practical, independent, brave, and seemingly immune to the storms of violence he passed through. These four constitute a real cross-section of Eastern Massachusetts’s society.

I find them all compelling, each in his own distinctive way. It is my hope that those who read about them feel that way as well.

15th Massachusetts monument in the West Woods at Antietam. 
Given the interest in Antietam by a certain Civil War blogger, tell us about  the experience of the Sharpshooters during the battle.

Senechal de la Roche: In my opinion, the Battle of Antietam was the pivotal moment in the history of Andrew’s Sharpshooters. Just a few brief words of background. In August 1862, after General George McClellan’s failed attempt to capture the Confederate capital at Richmond, Andrew’s Sharpshooters were ordered to give up their sniper rifles and take Sharps breech-loading rifles instead. The company nearly mutinied over the change, for it meant they were no longer an independent company of elite riflemen, but part of an infantry regiment. They would also have to serve as skirmishers – those who went out beyond the major body of troops to perform reconnaissance, probe enemy lines and battle enemy skirmishers.

At Antietam, the Andrew's Sharpshooters were
armed with breech-loading Sharps rifles instead
of their heavy sniper rifles (above). The switch caused a
near-mutiny. (Photo courtesy Bob Carlson)
The company was attached to the 15th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, a regiment that belonged to Major General John Sedgwick’s II Division. On Sept. 17, the 15th was at the far left of the first of Sedgwick’s lines to step out of the West Woods moving west. Andrew’s Sharpshooters anchored their far left. Moments later, concealed Confederate troops fired on their front and left flank. Very quickly, the 15th took fire from the rear as well. In the space of a few minutes, the 15th Massachusetts lost more than half of their men. Andrew’s Sharpshooters lost their captain, a lieutenant, and many of the men were killed, wounded, deserted or otherwise unaccounted for.

In short, an already demoralized company was placed at one of the worst possible spots on Sept. 17, 1862 -- armed with new weapons they did not want and tactics they despised. Had they remained an independent company of snipers, I believe it is highly doubtful that they would have been placed at the front in an infantry line in this -- or any other battle. More than 40 new recruits were soon added to the remnants of the Andrew’s Sharpshooters, but the unit’s morale, identity and cohesion seem to have been largely destroyed.

Since the book came out, have their been any revelations from readers, new stories that you would have loved to have included in the book?

Senechal de la Roche: I have received some very kind comments about the book, but no new revelations. I did recently locate yet another descendant of an Andrew’s Sharpshooter who supposedly has his letters. But I have not heard from her after trying to contact her. I am hoping that other descendants will eventually get in touch with me, especially since I am a bit visible on the website for the 15th Massachusetts Regiment. This excellent website has a full roster of Andrew’s Sharpshooters, along with genealogical information for many of the men and a few photographs.

Illustration of a Union sharpshooter by Winslow Homer that appeared in 
Harper's Weekly during the Civil War.
If any of the soldiers mentioned in the book were alive today, what would you like to ask them?

Senechal de la Roche: Years ago I might have asked them why they enlisted as snipers. But they have more or less answered that in their writings: They volunteered to help restore the Union, to protect Union soldiers from artillery fire, and to weaken the Confederacy by picking off their officers.

Captain William Plumer, posing with a sniper's target rifle,
replaced John Saunders, who was killed at Antietam.
(Image courtesy Douglas Hodgdon, Plumer descendant)
If there were one sharpshooter I could question today, it would be Captain William Plumer (who replaced Captain John Saunders after the Battle of Antietam). At the last possible moment before I sent the book to press, I found his portrait on Find a Grave website. I was surprised to see him posing with a sniper’s target rifle. At the Battle of Gettysburg, Captain Plumer led a contingent of Andrew’s Sharpshooters – at least a dozen of them likely armed with sniper’s rifles – to suppress Confederate sharpshooter fire from buildings at the edge of the town of Gettysburg. Lieutenant Luke Bicknell led his own group – about 20 skirmishers armed with Sharps breech-loading rifles – to a different part of the battlefield.

Since hardly any evidence exists for the last year of Andrew’s Sharpshooters service, I would ask Captain Plumer: Did the company establish a division of labor – some working as skirmishers with Sharps rifles, others as pure snipers with target rifles? If so, how did this come about? And why did some still want to be snipers? Who were they?

This all might seem a bit trivial, but part of what was at stake was whether the Union army was going to pursue sniping as part of a new, modern repertoire of covert warfare. The answer seems to be no. In contrast, late in the war the Confederacy was trying to expand its sniping capacity. What held it back was the lack of cash to pay for expensive but lightweight English telescoped Whitworth rifles that might in the end have proved more effective than the Union’s old, heavy target rifles.

Senechal de la Roche has yet to
commune with Robert E. Lee, once
Washington and Lee president.
(Library of Congress)
Finally, how often do you go to Lee Chapel on the Washington and Lee campus, where Robert E. Lee is buried? Ever been tempted to pose a few questions to Lee there?

Senechal de la Roche:  Lee Chapel is a hauntingly beautiful Civil War site. I have seldom visited, even though a good friend of mine was a guide there for many years.

As for being tempted to commune with General Lee or any other dead leaders of the war interred in Lexington? No. Not because of any sense of animosity as a “daughter of the Union,” but because I think most of the leaders of the war on both sides have had – through their many words and acts – answered most of what we think we want to know.

I suppose, then, that I am thoroughly a product of more recent generations of historians who have questions for the many unknown men behind the guns, rather than the officers on horseback.

Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

Friday, May 19, 2017

Gettysburg Then & Now: Union defenses on Little Round Top

         THEN: Timothy O'Sullivan, July 6, 1863, LOC | NOW: John Banks, Oct. 22, 2016
                                         (HOVER ON IMAGE TO SEE "NOW" PHOTO)

 Like this blog on Facebook.

During an October visit to Gettysburg, I aimed to replicate photos shot days after the battle by Alexander Gardner and Timothy O'Sullivan. You can view those Then & Now images in large format on this thread here. O'Sullivan's image above was shot at my favorite spot on the battlefield: Little Round Top, where boulders Union defenders used as protection from oncoming Confederates still may be seen today. In late April, I shot panoramas on the Little Round Top slope,  just below the above scene, of the results of the controlled burn that has restored the area to its 1863 apperarance. It's an eye-opening experience.

       Pan left to see wooded Big Round Top; pan right to see 16th Michigan monument.
                                              Pan left to see 16th Michigan monument.

Click here for large-format "Then & Now"  images.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

President Lincoln, Ulysses Grant, Edwin Stanton and art of war

A patron admires Winslow Homer's "Skirmish in the Wilderness" steps from a sculpture of the 
man who commanded the Union army there.  (CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)
 Like this blog on Facebook.

John Rogers
I must have looked strange to the other patrons at the New Britain (Conn.) Museum of American Art, hovering around the small, plaster sculpture shooting images with my iPhone at odd angles. But "The Council of War" --  an amazingly detailed work of art of the architects of the Union army's triumph during the Civil War -- is fascinating subject matter.

In sculptor John Rogers'  1868 statuary, a calm Abraham Lincoln holds a map while Secretary of War Edwin Stanton and Lieutenant General Ulysses Grant stand by the seated president. As I walked about the sculpture for 15 minutes or so, it seemed to change colors from off-gray to beige.

Of the three famous subjects, Grant easily was my favorite, looking resolute from one angle, compassionate from another.  While steps away another visitor admired Winslow Homer's beautiful oil-on-canvas  painting "Skirmish in the Wilderness," I shot a closeup of the general who sent so many soldiers to their deaths in those dense thickets in Virginia in early May 1864.

Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Examining Homer's haunting 'Skirmish in the Wilderness'

Harpers Weekly sketch artist-correspondent Winslow Homer's "Skirmish in the Wilderness."
The painting is displayed in the New Britain (Conn.) Museum of American Art.
 Like this blog on Facebook.

Circa-1880 photo of Winslow Homer,
one of the greatest
painters in American history.
In Winslow Homer's haunting painting "Skirmish in the Wilderness," faceless Union soldiers fight an unseen foe as battle smoke drifts through the dark, dense thickets. Upon close inspection of the original, oil-on-canvas image at the New Britain (Conn.) Museum of American Art this morning, details often overlooked became apparent: an officer leads a company of soldiers, their bayonets glistening; an apparently lifeless form sprawled in the foreground; another officer, perhaps with a head wound, sits against a large tree by a cluster of three other soldiers while clutching his saber; an upraised arm brandishing a sword.

Homer -- a sketch artist-correspondent for Harpers Weekly who was attached to the Army of the Potomac -- witnessed the great battle, fought May 5-6, 1864, about 15 miles from Fredericksburg, Va. The Wilderness painting is believed to be based on one of his sketches. A placard on the wall next to his battle painting describes Homer's harrowing work: "Nature threatens to engulf the soldiers," it reads, in part, "physically and psychologically."

Indeed, fighting in the Wilderness was especially terrifying, Soldiers often could not see their enemy as sulfurous smoke from gunfire lingered in the air. When trees and thick undergrowth caught fire, some helpless wounded soldiers burned to death, their bones and skulls found scattered about the battlefield months or even years later.

Paired with cropped enlargements of Homer's 1864 painting, here are Union voices from that awful battle:



"No man can claim that he saw this battle, and although undoubtedly it had a line and formation of its own, it would puzzle even the Commanding General to lay it down on the map. There is something horrible and yet fascinating in the mystery shrouding this strangest of battles ever fought -- a battle which no man could see -- and whose progress could only be followed by the ear. It is, beyond a doubt, the first time in the history of war, that two great armies have met, each with at least two hundred and fifty pieces of artillery, and yet placed in such circumstances as to make this vast enginery totally useless. Not a score of pieces were called into play in the whole affair, and I may mention, it as a fact strikingly illustrative of this battle, that out of the three thousand wounded in the hospital of  [Winfield] Hancock's command alone, not one of the wounds is a shell wound."

SOURCE: New York Times correspondent, published May 13, 1864



The smoke was so dense and blinding that we could see with difficulty but a short distance. Under such conditions it seemed hardly possible to reform the regiment.

It was at this juncture that I saw General John I. Curtin, a little to my right, standing alone. I rushed to his side and asked him if we had lost our colors. He replied, apparently disheartened, 'I do not know.' But presently, through the smoke, we saw a flag being borne in our direction and discovered that it was our color bearer. I immediately grasped the colors, and with an energy born of the calamity, and inspired by a realization of its meaning, sang out:
'Rally round the Flag, boys!
Rally once again!
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.'
"Those of the comrades nearby joined in with all their might. As if by magic the regiment reformed, each comrade took his place. The air was filled with smoke from the burning underbrush; the whistling of deadly missiles; but above all that bedlam of excitement, disorder and danger ... "

-- Captain Rees G. Richards, Company G, 45th Pennsylvania

SOURCE: History of the Forty-fifth regiment, Pennsylvania Veteran Volunteer  Infantry



"So thick were the trees that it was difficult for the men to advance in line and we could seldom see further than a few rods ahead. Before long the scattering fire in front of us had grown more rapid and in a few minutes the skirmishers fall back and though we cannot see them, we know that we have encountered the main body of the enemy. A tempest of bullets cuts the air and the men fall from the ranks like autumn leaves in a November gale. Without any order that I heard, our line paused and in another instant countless tongues of flame leaped from the muzzles of our rifles and speech is drowned by the deafening and unintermitted roar of musketry."

-- Adjutant William Hincks, 14th Connecticut

-- SOURCE: History of the Fourteenth Regiment, Connecticut Volunteer Infantry



"He was with his company and regiment engaged in the battle of the Wilderness on the 6th day of May 1864 in which ground was lost and regained several times by the Brigade to which the regiment belonged. And a large number of men were killed and wounded and left on the ground which the enemy burned over by firing the woods so that the wounded who were unable to escape were burned to death and ... the dead were so burned as to be unrecognizable. Some of the wounded escaped from the fire into our own lines and some into the enemy's; but, although special inquiries have been made in his case, nothing whatever has been learned either from those who remained within our own lines or those who became then or at any other time prisoners to the enemy concerning said Jones,  except that some of his comrades reported him to have been wounded, but how bad it was not known. And it has been and still is the universal belief of all who knew him both in and out of the Army that he was killed in the said battle or burned to death there on the said 6th day of May 1864 and I verily believe such was fact."

-- 126th New York Captain John B. Geddie on the fate of Corporal Edward Jones of Company H. 

SOURCE: Jones' widow's pension file, affidavit from Aug. 1, 1865, National Archives via

Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

For more "Voices in the Wilderness" on my blog, click here.

8.4 pounds of history: Remarkable books on 7th Connecticut

David M. Moore's hefty, two-volume work totals more than 1,100 pages. 

 Like this blog on Facebook.

If you want to know almost everything about the 7th Connecticut, I have just the book for you.

Actually, make that books.

David M. Moore, whose great-grandfather served as a captain in the regiment, has authored the heavyweight champion of regimental histories -- two volumes and more than 1,100 pages of battle recollections and other soldier stories, illustrations, maps, photos and much more.

Author David M. Moore's great-grandfather,
7th Connecticut Captain E. Lewis Moore.
It's a massive achievement -- literally. The privately published books weigh 8.4 pounds on the Banks family digital scale.

Moore grew up in Northern Louisiana in the 1950s, when the Civil War was still fresh in the minds of piney woods residents there. As a son of Dixie, his Civil War allegiance once tilted South. But when he discovered he had a prominent Yankee ancestor, well, let's just say his perspective changed.

In a carefully preserved box bound with twine, Moore's mother kept family treasure on the uppermost shelf of her closet: more than 450 letters Captain E. Lewis Moore had sent home during the Civil War. Initially transcribed in handwritten form, the letters were later transcribed using a manual typewriter and eventually by using a Tandy computer with a 5½-inch floppy disk. (As Moore notes, that's truly "ancient history.")

"As I read some of the initial transcriptions," the author told me, "I became hooked, and so began my quest to understand more about the 7th Connecticut and its role in the Civil War." Moore's interest also was fueled when his mother gave him a copy of an original regimental history, inscribed by E. Lewis Moore’s son to his heirs.

A longtime adminstrator at Virginia Tech, Moore describes himself as "a veterinarian, scholar/academic/teacher, photographer, domestic and international consultant, traveler, family historian/genealogist, triple guitar player in a steel drum orchestra and a devotee of lifelong learning." (Interestingly, he was the vet for the rats and squirrel monkeys that flew on the Challenger space shuttle in 1985.)

Moore recently answered questions about his massive 7th Connecticut history, a remarkable work that took the dogged author/researcher 30 years to complete.

What was the approach to assembling information and writing the book, and how long did it take?

Moore: Over the course of 30 years, I identified sources of letters, diaries and other documents in public repositories and private hands. I traveled to Connecticut, New Jersey, Washington D.C., Georgia, Florida, South Carolina and North Carolina to transcribe documents and to photograph artifacts. As personal computers became available, I created electronic files with the transcripts and quotes/narratives from other reference materials. When the bulk of identified materials had been entered, I then created spreadsheets to cross-reference dates and sources to facilitate drafting the book from initial to final dates. The final organization and drafting of the two volumes, including preparation of the illustrations, took approximately two years.

In this 2002 image taken outside Fort Fisher's pallisades, David Moore holds the sword of the 
fort's Confederate commander, Major James Reilly. Moore's sons, Colin and Zeke, look on. The
 sword was surrendered to Moore's ancestor, E. Lewis Moore, who returned it to Reilly in 1893.
What makes E. Lewis Moore special, besides his family connection to you?

Moore: E. Lewis Moore was the prototypical “Renaissance man” -- a teacher in a private school before the war, a private who was elevated to the rank of captain because of his competency and skills, a private secretary to Joe Hawley when he was president of the 1876 Centennial celebration, a breeder of fancy cattle and an elected state legislator. The author of the original history of the 7th CV noted that Hawley lacked the skills to maintain orderly military paperwork, and said:
With such habits he needed a ‘Fidus Achates,’ one not afraid of hard work, familiar with army regulations, methodical enough to preserve official records with accuracy and care, gifted enough to express Hawley's thoughts in Hawley's way and modest enough to efface himself in the presence of his chief. Moore possessed all these requisites to a marked degree; To one who knew him well he seems to have been the right man in the right place.” 
E. Lewis Moore had the distinction of having Fort Fisher surrendered to him by the then-commanding officer, Major James Reilly. Moore, a loyal subordinate, ensured that the official surrender of the fort was made to his commanding general, Alfred Terry. Moore sought no publicity or acclaim in his role in the surrender.

When General Hawley was ordered to report for duty in General Alfred Terry’s HQ in Richmond in June 1865, he asked that Captain E. L. Moore, A.A.G, be assigned to support him. Their friendship and professional relationship continued long after the war years. Moore’s third child, born a year after the Centennial celebration, was named Joseph Roswell Hawley Moore.

In 1893, E. Lewis Moore sought out Major Reilly, and returned the sword that Reilly had surrendered to him at Fort Fisher. This act of respect and generosity was hailed by Confederate veterans as demonstrating the best qualities of a soldier and a gentleman.

What makes the 7th Connecticut compelling, and why should it be remembered?

7th Connecticut soldiers occupied Fort Pulaski in
Georgia after its surrender in April 1862. Here, a Union
soldier stands in the damaged interior of the fort.
(Timothy O'Sullivan | Library of Congress)
Moore: Lieutenant colonel William F. Fox, noting that there were over 2,000 regiments in the Union Army, listed the 7th CV among the top 300 fighting regiments in the Civil War. The men of the 7th were given the honor of being the first Union soldiers to land on South Carolina soil following the bombardment of Port Royal. The men of the 7th CV were given the honor of occupying Fort Pulaski after its surrender. The officers and men of the 7th CV were routinely praised by commanding generals, and were selected for operations because of their reliability. They were described as first in and last off the battlefield because of their steadfastness and deportment. While this two-volume set is about the 7th CV,  my intent was to provide readers with a picture of regimental life and action that could be found in other regiments from other states. Thus this narrative of the men of the 7th CV serves as a proxy for all of the other brave men who served in the struggle to preserve the Union.

Describe the process for determining what to include in the book and what to exclude.

Moore: My pet peeve with a majority of books written about the Civil War is the encapsulation/brevity of statements attributed to the participants – this probably being a requirement by publishers to keep things short (and thus minimize publication costs), rather than the short attention span of the reader. Rather than an author’s summation of what someone expressed, I wanted to let the actual soldiers express what happened using their own words, even if misspelled or grammatically incorrect, to give readers a more complete understanding of the individual. I was told by one commercial publisher to reduce the book to one-third the number of pages, but to do so would have silenced many of the voices that I thought were vital to the narrative. I also wanted to include maps/illustrations to aid the reader in understanding geographical parameters, to foster an appreciation for the time and distances involved in traveling. I included pictures, sketches and descriptions of the transport vessels the 7th CV traveled on, to further personalize the story for the reader.

As to exclusion, that wasn’t so much as to what I would leave out from the materials/resources that I had, but rather the nagging belief that there were likely an equal number of letters and diaries in the hands of private collectors that are not publicly cataloged. To get on my soapbox, I would voice a plea that some individual or group would seek the coordination and assistance of private collectors in establishing a database of what materials exist, to aid historians and authors in developing the broadest picture of life, times and people during the Civil War.

What's your favorite tale in your books?

Post-war image of Captain Sylvester Gray
of the 7th Connecticut. He led four companies

during the assault and siege of
Battery Wagner at Morris Island, S.C.

Moore: I, as the author, hold a biased opinion that there are a multitude of individuals and their stories that are worthy of highlighting; but, as directed, I will limit myself to one – the parable of Captain Sylvester Gray. His is an allegorical tale, one that is the stuff of great works of fiction, and alluded to in biblical verse – “Man is humbled, and each one is brought low, and the eyes of the haughty are brought low.” [Isaiah 5:15]

Gray, captain of Company I, who had distinguished himself in the bombardment of Fort Pulaski, who was trusted with command of a special amphibious mission at the Battle of Pocotaligo, seemed to have it all – a position of leadership and authority, a man to be exalted and admired. He was knocked off his pedestal, not by the intrigue of others, but rather by his own feet of clay and his unbridled descent into moral turpitude in pursuit of the almighty dollar.

While in command of Fort Clinch, Amelia Island, Fla., in April 1863, he was arrested, and recommended for court martial, for selling contraband goods, including liquor, to enlisted men in his company and the regiment, at exorbitant rates, for well over a year. From greatness to infamy – his story could have ended on that discouraging note.

But Colonel Hawley selected him to lead one of the four companies detailed for the assault and siege of Battery Wagner, where he distinguished himself with gallantry and bravery, and for his resourcefulness in repairing a rifled cannon that was deemed unrepairable, the loss of which might have greatly prolonged the siege and increased Union casualties. Initial imperiousness – forfeiture and ignominy – a second chance – redemption and restored honor  ... what greater holistic tale of the human condition could be told?

If any of the soldiers you mention in your work were alive today, what would you like to ask them?

7th Connecticut colonel Joseph Hawley.
 A remarkable man, he rose to brigade command 
in September 1864. Hawley served as 
governor of Connecticiut from 1866-67.
Moore: My apologies to the line soldiers, but I would select an officer, the eponymous individual so noted in the book’s title, Joe Hawley, to ask a question. (But with Hawley, who could stop with just one question?) Those who are acquainted with Hawley know that politics were a major influence in his life prior to the war, during the war and after the war. He served as the 42nd governor of Connecticut, was chairman of the 1868 Republican National Convention, and was elected Congressman and later Senator from Connecticut. I would ask him, “General Hawley, what was the primary force that shaped your leadership and direction of the 7th CV – was it military in nature, or was it influenced by your political friendships and affiliations, and a motivation to advance Republican goals and your post-war career?”

Do you have any additional Civil War projects planned?

Moore: Over the past three decades, I have directed my attention to gathering family history information as well as working on the updated 7th CV regimental history. With the latter having been completed, my full attention is now on the former project. With regards to future Civil War-related projects, my ultimate intent is to publish a book of the transcriptions of E. Lewis Moore’s Civil War letters, although such a work may not be commercially viable, but would rather provide an historical reference for other scholars and authors.

How can someone find/order a copy of the two-volume set?

Moore: This two-volume set, a signed limited edition, will soon be listed on Amazon and eBay. However, because of the associated fees on those sites, the set will have to be sold at the list price ($89.98, plus shipping). I have been selling the set at a discounted price to libraries, historical societies and descendants, and would be willing to extend that discount to the followers of your blog ($70.00, plus $7.10 domestic shipping via media mail). Inquiries and order requests may be sent to

Both volumes of David M. Moore's history of the 7th Connecticut.

Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

Friday, May 12, 2017

Confederate surgeon John Gaines and a Gettysburg ledger

War-time and post-war image of Surgeon John Gaines.  (Boonsborough Museum of History)
 Like this blog on Facebook.

If you are a longtime reader of this blog, Civil War relic hunter-historian Richard E. Clem is a familiar face and byline. A lifelong resident of Hagerstown, Md., Clem and his brother have hunted for Civil War relics for more than 40 years in the Washington County area and beyond. In this post, he tells the story of Confederate surgeon John Gaines and his medical ledger from Gettysburg. 

Richard E. Clem

By Richard E. Clem

The intent or purpose of army doctors and surgeons during the Civil War was not to abolish slavery or to preserve state’s rights. Their main objective often was to save the life of a fellow human being. Frequently working under the worst possible conditions, they removed bullets by the thousands and performed countless amputations to the point of physical and mental exhaustion. One of these self-sacrificing individuals who tested personal stamina and endurance at Antietam, Gettysburg and, finally, at Appomattox was Surgeon John Mutius Gaines of the Army of Northern Virginia.

The second son of Edwin Ruthven and Mary Slaughter (Jurey) Gaines, John was born on the old Locust Hill Plantation, Culpeper County, Va., on Sept. 1, 1837. From a wealthy family, Gaines attended private schools in the Culpeper area. In June 1859, he graduated from the University of Virginia and, later, from Jefferson Medical College in Philadelphia, known as the “West Point" of the medical schools.

His first practice opened in Alexandria, Va., where he rented a room at the Marshall House, site of the death of the Union’s first martyr, Colonel E. Elmer Ellsworth. When Virginia seceded from the Union, Ellsworth’s militia regiment, the famous Fire Zouaves, were sent to Alexandria to maintain peace. A Rebel flag flying over the Marshall House got Ellsworth’s attention, but after removing the offensive banner, he became a victim of a Southern landlord’s shotgun. In turn, one of the Zouaves instantly pulled a pistol, drew a bead on the assassin and evened the score with an ounce of lead. Dr. Gaines immediately appeared on the bloody scene, but it was too late – both men were dead. The killing of Ellsworth, a good friend of President Lincoln, fueled the fire for civil war.

Seeing the coming of the War Between the States and a great need for military doctors, John Gaines closed the door on his Alexandria office and joined the Confederate Medical Corps. Later, he was assigned as an assistant surgeon with the 8th Virginia Infantry, raised by Colonel Eppa Hunton in Leesburg, Va. The 8th Virginia Regimental history gives a description of the 24-year-old surgeon at the time he joined the army: “5 foot-11 inches tall, gray eyes, dark hair with a sandy complexion.”

Otho J. Smith's thatched roof barn was used as a hospital for wounded soldiers after
 the Battle of Antietam. After the war, Smith became Dr. John Gaines' father-in-law.
 (Alexander Gardner | Library of Congress
In early September 1862, following a decisive victory at Second Bull Run, the Confederacy made plans to carry the war onto the enemy’s turf. With this daring move,  the Southern leader, General Robert E. Lee, hoped to feed his Army of Northern Virginia on the North’s rich abundance, recruit sympathetic Marylanders and give the Old Dominion time to harvest what remained of her ravaged, trampled crops.

At the village of Sharpsburg, Md., the Army of the Potomac, commanded by General George B. McClellan, finally caught up with the “Gray Fox” and brought a sudden halt to the South’s Northern invasion. Fighting to a tactical standstill on Sept. 17, 1862, Lee, having no choice, left hundreds of casualties on the battlefield of Antietam. Reluctantly, the Rebels' battered forces crossed back over the Potomac River to Virginia – West Virginia today.

Cropped enlargement of the photo above shows a man,
 presumably a wounded solder, in a makeshift enclosure.
Following the battles of South Mountain and Antietam (called Battle of Sharpsburg by the South), Dr. John M. Gaines was left at Boonsboro to tend to the wounded of both sides. Founded in 1792 and originally spelled “Boonsborough,” this small community at the base of South Mountain and just east of Sharpsburg has changed little since the Civil War.

Considered a prisoner of war, John now faced some of the greatest challenges of his medical career. It is believed Dr. Gaines had been promoted by November 1862; his orders were now forwarded as “Surgeon Gaines” instead of assistant surgeon. Working through the aftermath of Antietam, the bloodiest day in American history, Gaines would have been well-experienced with the horrible ordeal of amputation. A curious spectator to the still-smoking Antietam battlefield witnessed and recorded one of these grueling operations: “Sept. 18, 1862 – Today I saw the leg above the knee taken off a large man. They first cut the flesh around where they intended to cut off and then took up the arteries and tied the ends of them. Then shoved the flesh up the bone 3 or 4 inches, and then sawed it off. Drew the flesh back. Closed it together, and the job was done.”

A local newspaper noted after Antietam that every church, house, barn and even hog pens from Boonsboro at South Mountain to the Potomac River were crammed with wounded soldiers, making southern Washington County “one vast hospital.” Dr. Otho Josiah Smith owned a large farm two miles northeast of Sharpsburg bordering on Antietam Creek. The barn on this property was used as a hospital for Union wounded, although makeshift tents nearby housed numerous fallen Confederates.

Approximately three days after the battle, a photo of Dr. O. J. Smith’s barn was taken by Alexander Gardner while it was used as a hospital.  Land records show Smith owned this farm in 1862, but he resided in and maintained a medical office in Boonsboro. There is no record to indicate Dr. Gaines operated at this barn, but because of their friendship, it is believed the surgeon from Virginia labored in Boonsboro directly alongside Dr. Smith.

These doctors had another common bond: Miss Helen Jeannette Smith, Dr. Smith’s only daughter. Evidently, Helen assisted Surgeon Gaines in his arduous tasks. In those surroundings of turmoil and pain near Boonsboro, love bloomed and flourished for the young army doctor and the daughter of a physician. Through a system of prisoner exchange, after six weeks of tending to the wounded at Boonsboro, John Gaines returned to the Confederate army, now attached to the 18th Virginia Infantry, Pickett’s Division, Longstreet’s Corps. For now, his affections for Miss Helen Smith would remain on hold.

        (HOVER OVER IMAGE | Then: Library of Congress collection | Now: John Banks.)
      Another Alexander Gardner image of O.J. Smith's farm near the Antietam battlefield.

Combining courage with determination, in June 1863, Bobby Lee once again decided to fight the war on Northern soil. This gallant attempt would extend deeper into Yankee territory than the first Confederate invasion, but it was a disastrous failure at a small crossroads town in Pennsylvania. While approaching Cemetery Ridge during Pickett’s Charge at Gettysburg, the 18th Virginia’s ragged battle flag was captured by the 59th New York Infantry. Flags can be replaced, but the loss of this pivotal battle more than any other weakened the Confederacy’s hope of becoming an independent nation.

With a taste of defeat strong as the smell of  gunpowder still hanging over the battlefield, on July 4, General Lee spoke in despair: “We must now return to Virginia. As many of our poor wounded as possible must be taken home.” The brilliant but now bewildered chief knew he must escort his embattled army 40-plus miles south to Williamsport and cross the Potomac again.

Led by General John D. Imboden, a 17-mile-long Rebel wagon train of suffering humanity finally reached Williamsport, Md. It was then discovered that, due to recent record-setting rainfall, the Potomac River was at flood stage. When the Confederate wagon train that included thousands of wounded entered the riverfront town (population 1,900 in 1863), Williamsport quickly became a giant hospital. After a stand-off of several days in Washington County between the weary armies, the Army of Northern Virginia quietly succeeded in crossing the still-receding Potomac on the night of July 14.

Left behind on the Maryland shore to look after hundreds of the remaining wounded, Dr. Gaines was appointed surgeon-in-charge. Captured, he and the rest of the injured soldiers were treated as mere POWs. History leaves no record what Surgeon Gaines must have witnessed those miserable, blood-soaked days following Gettysburg -- days when the fate of his Southern homeland hung in the balance.

Hagerstown, Md.,  just north of Williamsport, was also in the path of both armies’ withdrawal from Gettysburg. Although many buildings in Hagerstown were converted into Union and Confederate hospitals, Kee Mar College, standing on the highest elevation in town, was strictly Confederate. Transferred from Williamsport to Kee Mar College, Dr. Gaines used his skill and experience to aid the sufferers at the all-female seminary. (Founded in 1851, Kee Mar College received several large additions and, starting in 1911, served as the Washington County Hospital. The outdated structure was later demolished and replaced by another medical facility.)

Gaines was later sent to Chester, Pa., near Philadelphia, where he tended to injured Confederates who were transferred earlier from Hagerstown. From Chester, he was shipped from one hospital to another, including Fort Delaware and Point Lookout, before he was exchanged at Fort Monroe, Va., on Dec. 12, 1863. Dr. Gaines’ service records are non-existent for the last year of the war, with the exception of a note that he “rejoined his old command at Petersburg” just before the Army of Northern Virginia’s surrender at Appomattox on April 9, 1865.

                   32 North Main Street in Boonsboro, Md., where Dr. John Gaines lived and
                                        worked after the Civil War. (Google Street View)

Nearly seven months after Appomattox, John Gaines returned to Washington County. The army doctor never forgot those warm September days of turmoil in 1862, or the sensitive, compassionate hands of a certain daughter of Dr. Otho J. Smith. In October 1865, Miss Helen Jeannette Smith of Boonsboro, Md., became the 25-year-old bride of Dr. John Mutius Gaines of Culpeper, Va.

Otho J. Smith's grave
 in Boonsboro (Md.) Town Cemetery.
(Photo: Richard E. Clem)
Soon after marriage, he went into the practice of medicine in Boonsboro with Dr. Smith. As a matter of fact, Gaines worked and resided with his new bride in the same two-story home of his father-in-law. Built in 1810, this beautiful, spacious, native limestone house still stands on North Main Street (Old National Road) in Boonsboro. Putting the Civil War behind him, life was good for John and Helen – maybe too good.

On June 14, 1868, less than two years after teaming with his son-in-law, Dr. Otho J. Smith passed away. Appointed executor of Smith’s vast estate, John Gaines was in the process of finishing some legal details when tragedy struck again. Only six months after her father’s death, 28-year-old Helen Jeannette Gaines died. The cause of death on Dec. 22, 1868, is unknown. It is only speculation, but perhaps the early passing of Helen came from contracting a disease while tending to wounded soldiers following Antietam. The doctor’s wife was interred in the Smith family plot in Boonsboro’s Town Cemetery, and the grief-stricken veteran continued his practice in Boonsboro.

Dr. John Gaines' house at 465 North Potomac Street in Hagerstown, Md. (Richard E. Clem)
Time truly heals all, and after two years of mourning and loneliness, Dr. Gaines married again in September 1870. His second marriage was to Susan M. Rench, daughter of Andrew Rench, an influential businessman and farmer in Washington County. While the couple resided in Boonsboro, Susan Gaines gave birth to daughters Mary, Jane, Sarah and a son, Edwin, who eventually married and settled on the Locust Hill plantation in Culpeper. There were no children from Gaines’ first marriage.

From 1866 until retiring in 1893, John M. Gaines was one of the most respected and trusted doctors in Washington County. His services extended over South Mountain into Frederick County. His practice grew to the point it became necessary to hire “two assistants in his office as well as to keep four of the best blooded driving horses – to take him back and forth through the county to his patients, and it often happened that he had tired all four of them.” One of John’s assistants in Boonsboro was his younger brother, Dr. James H. Gaines of Culpeper.

Planning ahead to retirement after practicing medicine in Boonsboro for 28 years, in 1890, the aging physician purchased a building lot on North Potomac Street in Hagerstown for $2,000. When construction began on the imposing three-story mansion, John personally “supervised and demanded work which did not meet his standards be done over.” In little over a year, the brick structure on a solid limestone foundation was finished. Shortly after completion of the beautiful home, the Gaines family took possession. In retirement years, the doctor’s interest turned from medicine to agriculture – he owned several farms in Washington County as well as the Locust Hill property in Virginia.

Circa-1910 image of Kee Mar College in Hagerstown, Md. The all-female college was used as a
 Confederate hospital following Gettysburg. Here, Surgeon Gaines labored and is believed to have
 compiled a list of Confederate wounded.  (Enoch Pratt Free Library, Baltimore)
While sorting through his extensive library around the turn of the century, Gaines found a misplaced list of wounded Confederate soldiers, some from his own state of Virginia. It appears the former army surgeon had started the list while caring for the wounded following the battle at Gettysburg, and at some point it had been stuck in his collection of medical books. The list of 214 is titled “Sick and Wounded Confederate Soldiers at Williamsport and Hagerstown.” The old ledger gives the soldier’s rank, state, date wounded and in some cases, date of death. The “original” document was sent to governor of Virginia, James Hoge Tyler (1898-1902), with an explanation by Dr. Gaines: “The list has never been published, and it will be read with interest, not only by the men who took part in the great struggle at Gettysburg, but by all old soldiers and by their children.”

44th Georgia Colonel Samuel Lumpkin
died of wounds suffered at Gettysburg.
His name appears in Dr. Gaines'
post-Gettysburg ledger. 
Additional research revealed two names on the list that deserve special attention. Near the end of the vintage record is found: “Colonel S. P. Lumpkin, 44th Georgia Regiment; Wounded July 1st.” Lumpkin, also a doctor before the war, came from a prestigious family in the Peach State. While commanding the 44th Georgia Infantry on July 1 at Gettysburg, Colonel Samuel Pittman Lumpkin lost his left leg to Union shrapnel and died on Sept. 18, 1863, at Kee Mar College. The colonel’s remains are interred in the Confederate section of Rose Hill Cemetery in Hagerstown.

Also near the bottom of the list is another noteworthy entry: “Major H. D. McDaniel, 11th Georgia Regiment; Wounded July 10th.” During the engagement in The Wheatfield at Gettysburg on July 2, McDaniel was shot and captured while leading the 11th Georgia, but escaped and eight days later was wounded again at Funkstown, Md. McDaniel is one of many soldiers who appear on the list as wounded July 10, 1863. The reason “July 10th” surfaces so often is because the Battle at Funkstown was fought that day during the Confederates’ retreat from Gettysburg. A total of 479 casualties remained at this small village a mile south of Hagerstown. Therefore, private homes in Hagerstown and Kee Mar College, with Surgeon Gaines in charge, would have received some of the overflow from Funkstown. Incidentally, Major Henry Dickerson McDaniel survived the war and 20 years later became the governor of Georgia (1883-1886). (To view “Gaines List,” go here.)

Grave of John Mutius Gaines in Rose Hill Cemetery in Hagerstown.
On March 27, 1915, John Mutius Gaines died at age 77. He "was a man of wonderful force of character and always devoted to duty,” an obituary in the Hagerstown newspaper noted. “It mattered not whether a peasant or prince, rich or poor, all received the same attention.”

General Stonewall Jackson once said: “Duty is ours, the consequences are God’s.” Dr. John Gaines made a similar statement: “Duty is the most important word in the English language.” The body of the surgeon from Virginia was laid to rest in Rose Hill Cemetery. Nine years later, on April 2, 1924, Susan Gaines passed away. She was placed at her husband’s side in Rose Hill, just yards from the grave of Colonel Sam Lumpkin.

Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.


-- Bailey, Ronald H., The Bloodiest Day: The Battle of Antietam, Time-Life Books, Alexandria, Va., 1984.
-- Cutter, William R., American Biography: A New Cyclopedia, New York, NY, 1916-33.
-- Douglas, Henry K., I Rode With Stonewall, The University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, NC., 1940.
-- Divine, John E., 8th Virginia Infantry, H. E. Howard Inc., Lynchburg, Va., 1984.
-- Find A Grave Memorial.
-- French, Steve, Imboden’s Brigade in the Gettysburg Campaign, Morgan Messenger, Berkeley Springs, W.Va., 2008.
-- Gaines Family Bible, M. Carey, Philadelphia, Pa., 1816.
-- Keller, Roger, Roster of Civil War Soldiers from Washington County, Maryland, Genealogical Publishing Co., Baltimore, Md., 1993.
-- Morrow, Dale W., Washington County Maryland Cemetery Records – Volume II, Willow Bend Books, Westminster, Md., 1993.
-- Robertson, James I., 18th Virginia Infantry, H. E. Howard Inc., Lynchburg, Va., 1984.
-- Virginia Military Institute, Preston Library Records, Lexington, Va.