Positively devilish: Book looted from Fredericksburg in 1862

A tattered copy of  Dialogues of Devils, looted from Fredericksburg, Va., in December 1862.

"Taken from deserted house of a wealthy citizen ..." reads a soldier's inscription inside the book once owned by William Warren, a prominent resident of Fredericksburg, Va.
 (New England Civil War Museum | Rockville, Conn.)

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William Warren 
(Ancestry.com)

In 1862, 38-year-old merchant William Warren and his family lived quietly at the corner of Amelia and Caroline streets in Fredericksburg, Va. That peace shattered on Dec. 11, 1862, when Federal guns opened on the town. Shells tore into the Warrens’ home — only blocks from the Rappahannock — reducing it to splintered timber and flame.

In the chaos that followed, Union soldiers ransacked the ruins. Among the wreckage, they seized a volume from Warren’s library. A private in Company D, 44th New York— “Ellsworth’s Avengers”— claimed the book and carried it with him for the rest of the war, a small trophy born of one family’s catastrophe.

We can only speculate how 37-year-old soldier Cyrus Snow Crain acquired the 1838 edition of Dialogues Of Devils, which chronicled the “many vices that abound in the civil and religious world.” On a blank page near the front, the private wrote: "Taken from the deserted house of a wealthy citizen of Fredericksburg, Va. where books & furniture were scattered about in profusion. Preserved as a memento of the occupancy of that city by our troops Dec. 13th, 14th, 15th 1862.” 

Warren’s name appears in the book in three places. The inscriptions deepen the mystery of the book’s journey. Did Crain — who became regimental chaplain in March 1863 — steal the book from Warren's house? Did another soldier give it to him after the United States Army looted the town on Dec. 12, 1862? Or did he simply pick it up in the street?

The 44th New York suffered 42 casualties, including seven killed or mortally wounded, during the disastrous Union attack on Marye’s Heights on Dec. 13. Crain may have obtained the book when his regiment, serving as part of the Union army’s rear guard as it retreated across the Rappahannock on Dec. 16, occupied Fredericksburg the previous day. A 44th New York regimental historian blamed the pillaging of the town on “camp followers, who had the time and opportunity for such lawlessness.”

                                                       GOOGLE STREET VIEW
        William Warren's 1862 house is gone. A gym occupies part of the property today. 
                                                            
For the well-educated Warren — who had been involved in the cotton, iron, and grocery businesses — the war brought financial ruin. According to the 1860 census, his estate was valued at $12,000, an impressive sum at the time. Warren owned a tan yard along the Rappahannock, a short distance from his house, and operated mills to support the Confederacy. 

But during the Battle of Fredericksburg, “his beautiful home and business interests were completely wrecked,” according to a postwar account published in the Richmond Dispatch. At an unknown date, Warren and his wife, Mary, moved to Richmond, “where he soon won recognition as a business man of fine abilities and sterling worth.” By 1870, he was working for a bank as a bookkeeper and discount teller, among other roles — a career he would hold for decades. Even so, it represented a significant step down from his former station in life.

Warren's property in Fredericksburg was near
his tan yard.  Explore an excellent map
of 1860 Fredericksburg from
 the National Park Service blog. 

“Mr. Warren was a typical southern gentleman of the old school,” the Dispatch noted upon his death in 1900. “He was sincerely admired and greatly respected by the community at large -- a man whom everybody trusted implicitly, and who, while occupying a subordinate position, still leaves his mark and a place that will not easily be filled.”

After his wife’s death in 1874, Warren moved in with a daughter and son-in-law in Richmond. There, on Nov. 22, 1900, he was struck by a dray at Tenth and Broad streets while on his way home from work. Three days later, he died from effects of his injuries at his daughter’s house. The 74-year-old Virginian was buried in his hometown of Fredericksburg.

“Our brother was a man of aesthetic nature and refined tastes, with a decided literary bent, which he occasionally indulged in excursions into the field of poetry, with no mean success,” an obituary noted about Warren. “Tennyson was his favorite among the great masters of song, and the tender farewell that trembled on the inspired Laureate’s lips are ‘he crossed the bar’ found echo in our brother’s heart and was often repeated by him in view of his departure.”

William Warren's name appears twice
at top of the title page.

For Cyrus Crain, the Civil War dragged on. He spent part of the winter of 1863 at the V Corps post hospital at Windmill Point, the largest military hospital in the Fredericksburg area. On a blank page in the back of Warren’s Dialogues of Devils, Crain even wrote scathing notes about Windmill Point, where roughly 4,000 sick soldiers received care:

“These scribblings were offered to while away time while in the hospital at Windmill Point, Va., a bleak promontory on the Virginia side of the Potomac, a few miles below Acquia Creek. The sick and wounded were hastily taken here before the necessary preparations were completed & as consequence many died & others suffered much."

And on another page:

"Would … the people north know how the government treated its sick soldiers at Windmill Point there would be a storm."

As regimental chaplain, Crain ministered to soldiers at Gettysburg, where the 44th New York defended Little Round Top and suffered 26 killed among 111 casualties. On March 17, 1864, the army sent him home with a discharge. A short time later, he married his second wife, Mary, with whom he raised three children. (His first wife, Merab, died in 1862.) Crain spent the remainder of his life preaching in small towns across New York and died in 1895 at 71.  

In battered condition, Dialogues of Devils survives in Rockville, Conn., at the New England Civil War Museum, a former Grand Army of the Republic hall.

How it got there is unknown.

(See post here on the Windmill Point hospital from John Hennessy, chief historian and chief of interpretation at Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania National Military Park.)

44th New York Private Cyrus Crain, who obtained Warren's book, wrote inside it about
  a Fredericksburg area hospital for soldiers.

44th New York Private Cyrus Crain, who later became the regiment's chaplain, wrote musings
in the book about Windmill Point hospital for soldiers: "The sick and wounded were hastily
 taken here before the necessary preparations."

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

NOTES AND SOURCES

• Ancestry.com
• Genealogical and Family History of Western New York: A Record of Western New York, Volume 3, edited by William Richard Cutter, New York, Lewis Historical Publishing Co., 1912
• Nash, Eugene Arus, A History of the Forty-fourth Regiment, New York Volunteer Infantry, Chicago, R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company, 1911
• Richmond Dispatch, Nov. 27, 1900
• Richmond Times, Nov. 27, 1900
•  William Warren obituary from 1900 newspaper clipping, probably from Virginia, accessed on ancestry.com on Dec. 19, 2016.

How discovery of tiny ID badge led to story of Gettysburg hero

In 1986, relic hunter Richard Clem found this postage stamp-sized, silver 
identification badge for 44th New York  Sergeant Consider H. Willett.

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Richard Clem of Hagerstown, Md., has discovered many amazing Civil War artifacts while scouring fields with his brother, Don, in Maryland, West Virginia and Virginia. Here is the story of one of Clem's favorites:

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By Richard Clem

Richard Clem

Countless acts of great courage during the Battle of Gettysburg never made the pages of history. However, a daring rescue of 97 enemy soldiers, led by Sergeant C. H. Willett of the 44th New York, has been recorded. In November 1986, 123 years after this heroic, life-saving deed, it was the author’s good fortune to discover with a metal detector Willett’s personal identification badge 40 miles south of Gettysburg. Hopefully, the following account will bring recognition to this gallant performance on Little Round Top by this Civil War soldier, now resting in Chicago’s beautiful Oak Woods Cemetery. (1)

The day after Thanksgiving, Nov.  28, 1986, dawned cold and cloudy as my brother Don and I continued our search with metal detectors in a large Civil War campsite near Lappans Crossroads, near Hagerstown, Md. Relics found the previous week were evidence regiments of the III and V Corps, Army of the Potomac, occupied this area in July 1863 during the Confederates' retreat from Gettysburg. During the Civil War, this intersection in Washington County (Md.) was known as Jones Crossroads. By noon, the fur lining of my army parka and hood were more than welcome as a northern wind increased. Perhaps because of the dampness of the ground, the detectors seemed to be working better than normal as pockets were filled with buttons, bullets, knapsack hooks and other Civil War-related artifacts. (2)

Late afternoon on the edge of the campsite, my trusty machine picked up a "positive" signal. From experience, I knew the sharp, clear sound indicated the object was close to the surface. To get a more accurate reading, the ground was leveled off with my insulated boot when a small piece of shiny metal appeared. Picking up the thin piece of metal about the size of a postage stamp, I noticed it was bent in the shape of a triangle. Because of its brightness, it first resembled a piece of folded aluminum, perhaps part of a soft drink can. Fortunately, as the mere junk was about to be discarded, the sun broke through the heavy cloud cover and I noticed something engraved on the inside of the folded metal: "Co. E.” And then it struck me: Could this be a Civil War identification badge?

Now it started to make sense why the small artifact buried for more than a century was still so bright; it was not aluminum as originally thought, but rather solid silver! During the War Between the States, there were no official army dog tags. Purchased by soldiers, these small keepsakes were more of a symbol of patriotism, but also proved invaluable in identifying a dead warrior or marking what would be just another unknown grave. (3)

Wearing an early-war Zouave jacket,
Consider Willett had this image
taken about the time of
his enlistment in October 1862.
(Image courtesy Elizabeth
"Dixie" Welch)

Immediately, I headed toward Don, who was searching just up the ridge, unfolding the thin silver as I walked. Taking full advantage of the evening sun coming over our shoulders, we could read the clear-cut inscription: "Sergt. C. H. Willett, Co. E, 44th Regt., N. Y. S. Vol.”

How did the ID tag get bent? Maybe the attachment hook on the back broke and Willett simply bent and tossed it away. Or it could have been damaged during battle. One thing to be grateful for -- the delicate silver didn’t snap or break when flattened. (4)

Who was Sergeant Willett? What was his full name? Did he survive the war? Where was he buried? Finding answers to these questions became an obsession resulting in  years of research. First, a trip to the library at the Visitors Center at the Gettysburg National Military Park produced a regimental history on the 44th New York Volunteers. Of course, there were some ideas what the "C" in Willett’s first name stood for – names such as Charles, Calvin, Carl or even Clayton surfaced. What a surprise when the regimental was opened and the one name never considered jumped from the page ... “Consider.” Like it or not, there it was in black and white – Sergeant Consider Heath Willett. The origin of that name remains a mystery. (5)

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Consider Heath Willett was born Dec. 12, 1840, near Syracuse, Onondaga County, N.Y.  He was the only son of William and Tryphosa Jackson Willett, having dark hair and grey eyes. On Aug. 14, 1862, after graduating from Albany Normal School and with civil war exploding, he enlisted in Company E, 44th Regiment of  the New York Volunteers. (6)

Captain Consider Willett in image
taken on leave from army 
in late 1863 or 1864.
(Richard Clem collection)

The 44th New York was a unique outfit, having been organized to avenge the death of Colonel Elmer Ellsworth, the Union’s first martyr. Ellsworth, greatly admired and respected in the North, was shot and killed in Alexandria, Va., after removing a Confederate flag from the roof of the Marshall House. On Oct. 21, 1861, 1,061 members of the 44th New York marched off to war. Following the Confederacy's surrender, only 184 veterans returned to the Empire State.

Unlike most Civil War regiments recruited from local communities and surrounding areas, members of this unit were handpicked by the state. These soldiers were required to meet certain standards: “Good moral character, 5 feet 8 inches in height and not exceeding 30-years-of-age.” The state armed the elite group with the finest military equipment available.

Early in the war, the 44th was issued blue-and-red Zouave uniforms. When the regiment left to join the Army of the Potomac, however, the Zouave uniforms were packed away in exchanged for the standard New York State shell jackets and frock coats. By the end of 1862, the state uniforms were in such ragged condition, the old Zouave threads were pulled from trunks and put back on. (7)

Enlisted as a 1st Sergeant, Willett caught up with his regiment camped in the field following the Battle of Antietam, just southwest of Sharpsburg, Md. At this time -- October 1862 -- the 44th New York was attached to the V Corps, Army of the Potomac, commanded by General George B. McClellan. In the coming winter and spring of 1863, the sergeant from Onondaga County would become well acquainted with warfare during bloody engagements at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville. But the ultimate test of the man would come by mid-summer at a small crossroads town in Pennsylvania.

During the first three days of July 1863, the most famous battle of the Civil War was fought on a 25- square mile tract of land surrounding Gettysburg, Pa. The aftermath of the first day’s fighting north and west of town left a landscape covered with bloated forms of blue and gray; two vigilant, defiant armies were in position to continue the bloodletting struggle. (8)

Defended by a force of seasoned veterans, the Union Army of the Potomac’s extreme left flank rested on a rocky knoll called Little Round Top. This was Colonel Strong Vincent’s Brigade of the V Corps, combining regiments of the 20th Maine, 83rd Pennsylvania, 44th New York and 16th Michigan. Around 4:30 p.m. on July 2, only 10 minutes after Vincent had deployed his Federal troops, Confederate infantry of Major General John Bell Hood’s division – Law’s Brigade – launched a furious assault against Little Round Top’s steep, western face. The notorious Rebel yell filled hot, humid air as Southern forces, mostly Texas and Alabama troops, stormed the rugged heights. The boys in blue were mostly concealed behind a natural barrier of enormous boulders. In a matter of minutes, gray granite turned crimson red -- stained with the life-giving substance of the wounded, dead and dying. Vicious, brutal fighting for Little Round Top cost General Hood an arm; Colonel Vincent paid the ultimate price: his life. (9)

Monument (left) dedicated to 44th New York Infantry on Little Round Top. Willett helped
save the lives of 97 Confederates here on July 2, 1863.  (Richard Clem)

Union breastworks on Little Round Top. Big Round Top looms in the background.
(Timothy O'Sullivan/Library of Congress)

Another view of Union breastworks on Little Round Top. 44th New York soldiers helped defend
this area on July 2, 1863. (Alexander Gardner/Library of Congress)

Colonel William C. Oates, commanding the 15th Alabama, remembered his regiment taking extreme losses against the 20th Maine on the south slope of Little Round Top: “My dead and wounded were nearly as great in number as those still on duty. The blood stood in puddles in some places on the rocks; the ground was soaked with the blood of as brave men as ever fell on the red field of battle.” One Union soldier who fought during the bloodbath wrote years later, “I pray God that I may never witness such a scene again.” (10)

Positioned to the immediate right of Colonel Joshua Chamberlain’s 20th Maine were the 83rd Pennsylvania, 44th New York and the 16th Michigan, holding the right flank of the brigade. Scores of Confederates out of ammunition hugged the ground or crawled behind boulders to escape from being accidentally shot in the back by their own men. To prevent needless slaughter, a Federal officer requested volunteers to come forward and remove the battle-weary souls out of harm’s way. Under heavy musket fire, Sergeant Willett was the first to vault the breastworks and start down the hill on the dangerous mission of mercy.  Captain Alfred N. Husted of the 44th described the scene:

“Grasping the situation some half-dozen men, led by First Sergeant Willett sprang forward and received the surrender of the ninety Texans who found themselves caught as in a trap. I know that the prisoners numbered at least ninety, for I counted them myself.”

 Another witness, Sergeant E. R. Goodrich of the 44th New York, wrote in his diary:

“Sergt. Willett found a large number of the enemy concealed behind the rocks and a depression in the field, lying prone upon the ground. They were taken by surprise at his appearance among them and he quickly had them in motion and conducted to the rear. From my standpoint I counted 97 prisoners.” (11)

The 97 captured Confederates were led around the large boulders, escorted up and over the summit to security of the east, or back side, of Little Round Top. In an article “Incidents at Gettysburg,” Willett wrote, “Our musketry firing left the dead piled so thick that it was almost impossible to walk over the ground without stepping on the Rebel dead.” Although Willett’s life-saving act was soon forgotten, it would be forever etched in the minds of 97 grateful members of General Hood’s Division. (12)

Captain Willett in an image from
History of the Forty-Fourth Regiment
New York Volunteer Infantry.

Heavy rain soaked man and beast as the two embattled armies withdrew from the Gettysburg field of battle; one massive sea of humanity, covered with mud and blood, slowly drifted south through southern Pennsylvania and into Maryland. These days of misery and grief found the 44th New York camped near Jones Crossroads in Washington County, where the sergeant’s personalized badge would be discovered 123 years later.

On Aug. 8, 1863, about one month after losing his silver badge,  Consider H. Willett was promoted to captain in command of Company G, 2nd U.S. Colored Troops. During the Civil War, thousands of black soldiers, including former slaves, faithfully served to preserve the Union and liberate their Southern brothers and sisters. (13)

By mid-August, Captain Willett and the 2nd Colored Regiment received orders to report for duty in Florida. Official documents reveal his campaign with the Department of the Gulf continued to magnify an already outstanding military record. However, with sickness and disease producing more casualties than bullets, Captain Willett contracted yellow fever in the swamps of Key West and was admitted to an army hospital at Fort Taylor and placed on a disabled list.

Growing too weak for duty, he was honorably discharged Sept. 12, 1865. By this time, the war was over and so was the military career of Consider Willett. The veteran officer was transported to New York, where he slowly recuperated. In 1866, he was granted an army pension because of physical disability caused by the yellow fever. Knowing he could never perform manual labor, the retired captain studied law at Albany. He graduated from the University of Michigan and was admitted to the New York Bar in April 1866. (14)

On Nov.  5, 1867, Consider Heath Willett married Lois Adelaide Wilder of Ann Arbor, Mich. The newlyweds relocated to Chicago, a city with an exploding population and a great need for qualified lawyers. Here, Lois Willett gave birth to six daughters and two sons – making one wonder just how disabled the captain really was. For several years, Willett served as Cook County attorney and practiced law in Hyde Park, now called the South Side of Chicago. During the Great Chicago Fire, on Oct. 8, 1871, Willett’s law office and library were gutted; however, this man had been held to the fire before. He organized committees to help rebuild the Windy City. (15)

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In March 1997, 11 years after finding the Willett ID badge, I received a phone call from Edward H. Lane Jr. of Bedford County, Va. Ed’s father founded the Lane Cedar Chest Co. in 1912. After reading one of my ads placed in a Civil War publication “. . . searching for any information on Consider H. Willett, 44th  N.Y.,” Mr. Lane’s mind drifted to a piece of dining room furniture he had purchased more than 40 years earlier. Pulling the solid cherry buffet from the wall, he was surprised to read marked on the back, “Manufactured by the Consider H. Willett Furniture Company – Louisville, Kentucky.” With Ed’s informative call and the use of a Louisville phone book, I was able to contact Elizabeth "Dixie" Willett Welch and Lois Willett Ross -- granddaughters of Captain Willett -- who lived in Louisville. Elizabeth Welch was the daughter of Consider H. Willett Jr. and Lois Ross (named after her grandmother) was the daughter of William R. Willett, the captain’s older son. (16)

Willett's simple gravestone in Oak Woods Cemetery in Chicago.
(Photo: Richard Clem)

Elizabeth recalled going to Chicago as a young girl to visit her aunts. When her Yankee relatives (Captain Willett’s six daughters) discovered their niece came from Kentucky, they jokingly dubbed her "Dixie." The nickname stuck. The Lane connection to Willett’s granddaughters produced images and genealogy of the family that could never have been found in any other source (See notes).

The captain’s youngest son, Consider Willett Jr., left Chicago in 1907 to join forces with his older brother, William Willett, already living in Kentucky. There, the brothers went into partnership in the lumber business. Consider Jr. branched out on his own in 1934, opening the Willett Furniture Co. in Louisville. At peak of production, the company employed 230 workers while gaining national prominence as the largest manufacturer of solid maple and cherry furniture in the world. During World War II, the factory built bunk beds for the U.S. Army. Consider H. Willett Jr., the justly proud son of a Civil War veteran, died in Louisville in 1944 at 54. The company continued production for a period, but it was plagued with financial problems and closed its doors for good in 1964. (17)

Captain Consider H. Willett fought his last battle Oct. 12, 1912. He was 72. A simple, small stone marks the grave beside a beautiful lake in Chicago’s Oak Woods Cemetery. Lois Willett was placed at her husband’s side in Oak Woods in July 1936.

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At the Battle of Fredericksburg on Dec. 13, 1862, Consider Willett described the action in a letter to one of his former professors in New York:

“Today I am on my knapsack for a seat, on the brick sidewalks on Main Street, Fredericksburg. The batteries are playing around us, and musketry occasionally throws in its voice to make the din of war complete. The boys of Company E crossed the Rappahannock on Saturday at 3 P.M. We were marched directly through town along or near the railroad.”

The correspondence from Fredericksburg ends revealing the cruel reality of war, but a trust and faith in a higher command:

“As we neared the outskirts of town, a destructive fire poured upon us. Many of the 44th fell wounded and our Color Sergeant was killed. We are having a terrible battle here, but have high hopes in the Ruler of all things that we will ultimately succeed. I remain as true and firm in battle as I hope to be in the battle of life. Yours truly, C. H. Willett.” (18)

Following the War Between the States, this hero of Little Round Top remained as true in life as in battle. And now, through the recovery of a small, silver badge lost more than 150 years ago in Maryland, Captain Willett can finally receive credit he so greatly deserves.

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Click here for notes and sources for this story.