Showing posts with label First Battle of Bull Run. Show all posts
Showing posts with label First Battle of Bull Run. Show all posts

Saturday, September 02, 2017

'No, Sarah!' Did someone else write Sullivan Ballou letter?

A lithograph of Sullivan Ballou, mortally wounded at the First Battle of Bull Run.

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Rob Grandchamp was 12 or 13 when he first watched Ken Burns' Civil War documentary mini-series on PBS in 1990 and heard the reading of 2nd Rhode Island Major Sullivan Ballou's now-famous letter to his wife. Like millions of others, he was captivated by the beautifully written, and deeply moving, prose.

"My very dear Sarah," began the letter, purportedly written from Camp Clark in Washington on July 14. 1861. "The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more …"

Rob Grandchamp
As Paul Roebling read the words of "Ballou" and the tremendous "Ashokan Farewell" played in the background, tears welled in eyes across America. (See video below.)

"But, O Sarah," the letter continued, "if the dead can come back to this earth, and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you in the garish day, and the darkest night amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours always, always, and, if the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air cools your throbbing temples, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dear; think I am gone, and wait for me, for we shall meet again."

"Sullivan Ballou was killed at week later at the First Battle of Bull Run," historian David McCullough intoned at the end of the letter reading.

Like many, Grandchamp gave the TV series high marks. "I think that Burns did a marvelous job with the documentary,"  he said, "and it serves as a great introduction to the war for many people."  And at the time, Grandchamp assumed, like most of the public, that Ballou was the actual author of the letter to Sarah.

Years after Burns' documentary, however, Grandchamp dug deeper. His doubts about the authenticity of the letter grew. In the fall 2017 issue of America's Civil War magazine, Grandchamp — a native Rhode Islander who now lives in Vermont — lays out the case that Ballou did not write the letter, among the most famous of the Civil War. Another man, Horatio Rogers, was its author, he asserts.

In this Q&A, Grandchamp — a prolific Civil War author — answers my questions about his research on the Ballou letter, whether he has heard Burns' take on the mini-controversy, and more:


What motivated you to research the story of the letter?

Grandchamp: I like a good mystery. Years ago, I was volunteering at the Providence Public Library and actually discovered a piece of Ballou’s shirt collar that was used to identify his body parts after his remains were desecrated after Bull Run. In my day job, I work for the Federal government as an analyst, figuring out complex problems. As the years went on I, as I did more research on Rhode Island’s role in the Civil War, could not help but notice that Ballou was not really a major player in the conflict; his death was all but forgotten by the local papers. Rather they focused heavily on Colonel John Stanton Slocum of the Second Rhode Island, whose last words were “Now show them what Rhode Island can do.” I discovered Ballou’s letters at the Rhode Island Historical Society and spent a good amount of time reading each one of them. After reading the letters documented to be Ballou’s and comparing his style of writing to the others, I was convinced he did not write the famous July 14 letter.


Tell us more about your research on the letter.

Grandchamp: I analyzed the Ballou letters and compared the known originals in his hand to the famous letter. What it came down to for me was that the Ballou family had carefully preserved all of Sullivan’s letters sent to Sarah during his short time in the army. The original of the famous letter has never been seen by anyone alive today. The prevailing theory is that Sarah was buried with the letter in 1917 when she died; I could find no record of that in her obituary. I pondered and thought, "Why would the family not have kept the famous letter with the rest of his papers." It is strange to think she was buried with it.

A post-war image of Horatio Rogers, the man who
Rob Grandchamp believes really wrote the
famous letter attributed to Sullivan Ballou.
Rogers became a prominent jurist and lawyer
after the Civil War.
Numerous manuscript copies abound, but it was not seen in public until 1868. The letter, if it existed in 1861, would have been a great recruiting tool by the State of Rhode Island to motivate young men to enlist. There is another letter documented to Ballou dated July 14, 1861, in the collection of the Rhode Island Historical Society, but the tone and style of the letter is so radically different from the famous letter that there is no way, as supported by my research and the analysis of others, that he wrote the famous July 14, 1861, letter.

I also traced the history of the letter and tracked down numerous copies of it at repositories around the country. Research at Stanford University provided the Burns connection to it. Dr. Don Fehrenbacher found a copy in Illinois and sent it to Ric Burns. In his letter to Ric Burns [Ken's brother], the professor told him to only use material for the project that could be documented as being historically accurate. It is unknown if the film company did any research on Ballou. My research indicates it was written by his very good friend, Horatio Rogers, who had the talent and skill to write it as a memorial to his friend.

What can you tell us about Rogers?

Grandchamp: Horatio Rogers was one of Ballou’s closest friends. They attended Brown, served in the state legislature, and practiced law together. Rogers even witnessed Ballou’s will. Rogers wanted to go to war early on, but his friend Ballou persuaded him to stay home. After Ballou’s death, Rogers became an officer in the 3rd Rhode Island Heavy Artillery in August 1861. He worked his way up through the ranks and, in 1863, became colonel of the 2nd Rhode Island, Ballou’s regiment. He led the regiment at Chancellorsville and Gettysburg.

Resigning in 1864, he became attorney general of Rhode Island and later an associate justice of the Rhode Island Supreme Court. Rogers was a very talented man who owned one of the largest private libraries in Rhode Island at the time. He was also an author who published several books and wrote a biographical sketch of Ballou that was published in 1868, the first time the letter was seen in public. Rogers had the talent and the motivation to write the letter.

What has been the reaction to the piece, and have you heard from Ken Burns?

Ken Burns
Grandchamp: So far reaction has been positive among the people I know in the Rhode Island historical community who I shared my early research with. They know I did not just go off on a tangent on this, but did a lot of in-depth research to prove my hypothesis. Regarding Ken Burns and Florentine Films, when I was doing research for the article, I called, wrote, e-mailed, and even sent a carrier pigeon! Despite this, no one from his company ever got back in touch with me. I would really like to see what Mr. Burns' reaction would be.

What message do you have for those who believe Ballou absolutely wrote the letter?

Grandchamp: The evidence is clear he did not write it. My credentials include an M.A. in American history, service as a National Park ranger, work in the museum field, and I am the author of 11 books and dozens of articles. I also have nearly 20 years of experience researching Rhode Island’s role in the Civil War. My aim in writing this piece was not to discredit Ballou’s service and sacrifice. He was a brave man in combat, but as one 2nd Rhode Island officer wrote, he had no business being there; he had no training and obtained the position of major through political connections. Ballou was trying to leverage his military service into political gain after the war. Unfortunately, he fell in his first battle. History is not always black and white, as my research has shown.

If you could visit with Ballou today, what would you ask him?

Grandchamp: I would ask him point blank if he wrote the letter. Knowing his answer would be no, I would ask him what his opinion of it was.

What are your future plans?

Grandchamp:  I got married about a month ago to a lovely school teacher named Elizabeth, and a family is planned down the road. She thinks my Civil War studies are interesting, and is still getting used to living in an old farmhouse in the mountains of Vermont that looks like a mini-version of the New England Civil War Museum. For now, I am working on two projects. One is a complete roster of the soldiers of the 7th Rhode Island Infantry, the regiment that my ggg-uncle Alfred Sheldon Knight served in. I have been tracking down burial locations for members of the regiment and have found the final resting places for nearly two-thirds of the men. My winter project -- winter is nearly half the year in Vermont -- is quite ambitious -- I am going to write an annotated bibliography of Rhode Island in the Civil War era.

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

Read Grandchamp's article in America's Civil War Magazine.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

'Beyond medical aid': A private's death at First Bull Run

Surgeon Luther V. Bell cared for John Mead and other Union wounded at Sudley Church.
 (Library of Congress)
                                                                       
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Dozens of wounded United States soldiers filled a small, brick church near the First Bull Run battlefield on July 21, 1861, creating a madhouse of misery for 11th Massachusetts surgeon Luther V. Bell, the former head of an insane asylum.

"The whole volume of military surgery was opened before me on Sunday afternoon with illustrations horrid and sanguinary," the 55-year-old Dartmouth Medical School graduate wrote in a letter to a friend. "Sudley Church with its hundred wounded victims will form a picture in my sick dreams so long as I live."

Surgeon Luther Bell
Within an hour, wounded covered the floor and gallery of the church while the armies clashed nearby in the first major battle of the war. Soldiers and others quickly removed pews to make room.

"The wounds were awfully ghastly," Bell recalled, "being made much with shell, Minie-balls, and rifled canons."

John P. Mead, a 29-year-old shoe cutter from Lynnfield, Mass., and scores of others received care from Bell at the makeshift hospital near Bull Run.  A married father of a 4-year-old boy and 1-year-old girl, the 11th Massachusetts private had suffered a horrible wound from an artillery shell.

Mead's regiment, which went into the first major battle of the war wearing state-issued gray uniforms, had advanced to a brow of a hill, fired and then fell back a short distance. Then the soldiers reloaded, advanced and fired again. The combatants recalled a frightening cacophony of artillery shells and rifle fire. 

"Oh! Sarah," 11th Massachusetts Lieutenant John Robertson wrote to his wife, "it was a fearful scene. I cannot describe it. One must experience it to feel it ..."

Ordered to a new position to support a battery, the regiment passed through a narrow gully. Then a shell burst among the regiment, knocking Robertson to the ground and bloodying his nose. When he recovered his senses, he rushed to catch up with his company. Soon, he discovered the awful effects of the Rebel fire.

"A piece of the shell which burst and knocked me down [and] struck the man who was touching me in my platoon," he wrote his wife, "and tore away all the lower part of his abdomen making a most horrible wound."

Soldiers carried that  man — John P. Mead — to the rear. He faced bleak prospects. "Doct Bell who dressed the wound says he could not possibly have lived more than three or four hours," Robertson remembered.

On Aug. 1, 1861, nearly two weeks after the battle, Bell wrote a two-page letter to Jane W. Mead explaining the circumstances of her husband's death. (See complete transcription below.) At about 3 p.m. on the day of the battle, the grievously wounded soldier arrived at Sudley Church.

"I found he had received a truly horrible wound from a piece of shell in the upper part of the thigh bone," the surgeon recalled. "As he was at first in great pain, I put him under the influence of ether, and proceeded to examine the wound, and took therefrom all the contents of his pocket, which had been driven into it. I saw at once that he was beyond medical aid, as the damage was too near the body for amputation."
A marker for Private John Mead in 
Willow Hill Cemetery in
Lynnfield, Mass.
(Find A Grave)

Mead, who asked Bell if he would lose his leg, never "appreciated fully how severely he was wounded," the surgeon explained.

When it became apparent the Rebels would overrun the position at the church, the Union Army retreated and Bell reluctantly left his patients. "I have seen a person who was taken prisoner and afterwards escaped," Bell reported to Jane Mead. "He reports that Mr. Mead lived some 36 hours; that the wounds were not ill-healed, and that he then died easily."

Although it's unknown if Mead's remains were recovered and sent to Massachusetts, a marker honors his memory in Willow Hill Cemetery in Lynnfield. A ring he wore at Bull Run was returned to the family as a memento.

POSTSCRIPT:  Luther V. Bell became surgeon of the 11th Massachusetts on June 13, 1861. In an impassioned letter to a friend, he wrote about his devotion to the Union cause: "I have never had one beginning of a regret at my decision to devote what may be left of life and ability to the great cause. I have, as you know, four young motherless children. Painful, as it is, to leave such a charge, I have forced myself into reconciliation by the reflection, that the great issue under the stern arbitrament of arms is, whether or not, our children are to have a country."

While serving as a brigade surgeon, Bell died of disease at Budd's Ferry, Md., on Feb. 11, 1862.

"Bell had long been an invalid," The New York Times reported the next day, "and had suffered to some degree from pulmonary disease, and he has had several attacks of hemorrhage, but his health had been better in the army until within a week, when he had an attack of pleurisy, complicated with acute rheumatism. For several days he had suffered intensely, and could only be relieved by inhalations of chloroform.

"He was aware of the severity of his case, and gave directions that his friends should be notified of his perilous condition."

(National Archives via fold3.com)
                                                  
Head Quarters, 11th Regt. M.V. Near Alexandria, Va.

Dear Madam

I am much pained to be obliged to inform you that your worst apprehensions respecting the fate of Mr. Mead are realized. He was brought into the Church near Bull Run, not Centreville, where a portion of the wounded were taken, at about 3 o'clock, Sunday afternoon. My attention was soon called to him, and on examination, I found he had received a truly horrible wound from a piece of shell in the upper part of the thigh bone. As he was at first in great pain, I put him under the influence of ether, and proceeded to examine the wound, and took therefrom all the contents of his pocket, which had been driven into it. I saw at once that he was beyond medical aid, as the damage was too near the body for amputation.

I dressed it before he came out of  the etherization, gave him some comforting things, and told him I would come and see him again as soon as I could attend to some pressing cases (indecipherable) the whole church fall we had ...

 (National Archives via fold3.com)
                                                      
 ... I do not think he appreciated fully how severely he was wounded, as I recollect his asking me if I thought he would lose his leg?

At about 6 1/2 P.M. the rush of the foe was upon us made such circumstance as compelled us to retire or be killed, and we were obliged to leave the place on our retreat.

I have seen a person who was taken prisoner and afterwards escaped. He reports that Mr. Mead lived some 36 hours; that the wounds were not ill-healed, and that he then died easily.

I believe these are in the main facts in this sad narrative, and I would close by offering my deepest sympathies in this hour of your bereavement.

I might add that Mr. M. recognized me, and seemed in a perfectly resigned and cheerful frame of mind.

Very faithfully yours
Luther V. Bell
Surgeon 11th Regt M.V.

Mrs. Jane W. Mead
Lynnfield, Mass.

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 SOURCES
Digital copies and a transcript
 of John Robertson's lengthy

Bull Run letter to his wife 
may be accessed here.

In the letter to his wife, Robertson referred to reports of Confederate atrocities committed at Sudley Church after the Yankees' retreat. "...we have it from what seems good authority," he wrote, "that after our retreat the rebels blew up the Hospital and inhumanly murdered every wounded man they found. For the sake of humanity, I trust this may not be true." The reports were unfounded.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Interactive panoramas: First Battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861

Monument to  Stonewall Jackson at Bull Run. Read John Hennessy's take on his nickname.
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In late April 2016, I joined 50 others for a tour of the First Bull Run battlefield with two experts, John Hennessy of the National Park Service and my fellow Pittsburgher, Harry Smeltzer. John's recently updated book on First Manassas (also known as Bull Run) and Harry's fabulous blog/digital history project are premier sources on the first major battle of the war, fought July 21, 1861. Here are five interactive panoramas I shot that day, a small slice of our nine-hour trek over the battlefield. (Click at upper right for full-screen experience): 

STONE BRIDGE LOOKING WEST

    Warrenton Turnpike crossed at Stone Bridge, which was destroyed during the war.
                                                           
"It was an appalling hour. The shot whistled and tore through trees and bones. The ground became literally paved with the fallen. Yet the remnant stood composed and unquailing, carefully loading, steadily aiming, unerringly firing, and then quietly looking to see the effect of their shots. Mere boys fought like veterans — unexcited, save with that stern "white heat," flameless exhilaration, that battle gives to brave spirits.

"After eight or ten rounds the regiment appeared annihilated. The order was reluctantly given to cease firing and retire. The stubborn fellows gave no heed. It was repeated. Still no obedience. The battle spirit was up. Again it was given. Three volleys had been fired after the first command. At length they retired, walking and fighting. Owing to the density of the growth, a part of the regiment were separated from the colors. The other part formed in an open field behind the thicket. The retreat continued over ground alternately wood and field. At every open spot they would reform, pour a volley into the pursuing enemy and again retire."

-- Confederate soldier on fighting near the Stone Bridge early on July 21

LOOKING TOWARD STONE HOUSE, HENRY HILL FROM MATTHEWS HILL

        71st N.Y., 1st and 2nd Rhode Island soldiers were among troops that fought here.

"I cannot here relate all the scenes I saw, the horrible wounds inflicted, and all the incidents of this most shameful and unnecessary battle – for which the troops feel they were sacrificed by the stupidity of their generals. Suffice it to say our men fought bravely; and I can only account for the panic with which they were seized by the facts that the teamsters took fright and drove their wagons pell mell through them, and that many of the regiments had totally incompetent field and company officers – many of  whom acted cowardly – and the most of whom didn’t know what to do."


-- Colonel John Ellis, a volunteer in the 71st New York


HENRY HILL LOOKING TOWARD MATTHEWS HILL

                          Confederate troops under Jackson, artillery were positioned here.

"The contest that ensued was terrific. Jackson ordered me to go from battery to battery and see that the guns were properly aimed and the fuses cut the right length. This was the work of but a few minutes. On returning to the left of the line of guns, I stopped to ask General Jackson’s permission to rejoin my battery. The fight was just then hot enough to make him feel well. His eyes fairly blazed. He had a way of throwing up his left hand with the open palm toward the person he was addressing. And as he told me to go, he made this gesture. The air was full of flying missiles, and as he spoke he jerked down his hand, and I saw that blood was streaming from it. I exclaimed,  'General, you are wounded?' He replied, as he drew a handkerchief from his breast-pocket, and began to bind it up, 'Only a scratch — a mere scratch,' and galloped away along his line."

-- Confederate General John Imboden on fighting at Henry Hill


WHERE JACKSON'S WOUND WAS TREATED


                                             Site of major Confederate field hospital.

"On his way to the rear, the wound pained him so much that he stopped at the first hospital he came to, and the surgeon there proposed to cut the finger off; but while the Doctor looked for his instruments, and for a moment turned his back, the General silently mounted his horse, rode off, and soon afterwards found me. I was busily engaged with the wounded, but when I saw him coming, I left them, and asked him if he was seriously hurt. 'No,' he answered, 'not half as badly as many here, and I will wait.' And he forthwith sat down on the bank of a little stream near by, and positively declined any assistance until  'his turn came!' ”


-- Dr. Hunter McGuire on Stonewall Jackson's wound at First Battle of Bull Run


WHERE JEFFERSON DAVIS MET JACKSON AFTER BATTLE


                                                     Near Holkum's Branch of Bull Run.  

 "Give me ten thousand men and I shall take Washington City tomorrow.”

-- Stonewall Jackson to Confederate president Jefferson Davis.

The Rebels, however, were too disorganized to follow up on their great victory at Bull Run.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Then & Now: Iconic shot of kids, soldiers at Sudley Springs Ford


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In an iconic Civil War photograph, seven Yankee cavalrymen astride horses and two boys in Confederate attire face off across Sudley Springs Ford while two young girls sit nearby on the banks of Catharpin Run. You've probably seen the image by Connecticut-born photographer George Barnard scores of times.

Last Saturday, I joined nearly 60 other Civil War enthusiasts for a more than eight-hour tour of the First Bull Run field, led by the National Park Service's John Hennessy, who literally wrote the book on the battle. Ignoring a steady downpour, we gathered on the Catharpin Run bank, near the spot where Barnard shot the image in March 1862. Eight months earlier,  more than 13,000 Union soldiers had used the ford en route to attack the Confederates' left flank at First Bull Run.

As my "Now" image clearly shows, the landscape is much more wooded than it was in 1862. But interesting remnants from more than 154 years ago are readily apparent. To the left of the soldiers in the photo, check out the stone structure, the remains of which can still be seen in the present-day image. I love that stuff.

Of course, what makes this photo most compelling is the children. In this post on the "Fredericksburg Remembered" blog, Hennessy explained why he believes the youngsters in the image almost certainly are the children of John Thornberry, whose humble dwelling near the ford was used as Federal field hospital at First Bull Run. The two boys in Barnard's photo above also appear in his image of the Thornberry house, which still stands today. (A private in the 49th Virginia, Thornberry was wounded at Bull Run and knocked out of the war.)

According to a 1936 account by one of Thornberry's daughters, 10 wounded soldiers bled to death in her mother's bedroom of that house. Second Rhode Island Major Sullivan Ballou of Ken Burns' Civil War TV series fame died from his First Bull Run wound on Thornberry's property.

"Carpets and all furniture were out and gone," recalled Laura Thornberry, probably the girl at left in the image above. "We never saw any of it again, or anything else.  The old farm well in the back yard was almost full of everything that would go in it. ... Of course everything was broken.  How we all cried over it; and no prospects of replacing any of it."

For all the Then & Now images on my blog, go here. Click on all images below to enlarge.

A cropped enlargement of the original image shows the youngsters in more detail.
The remains of the structure at left may be seen today.
George Barnard's March 1862 image of the Thornberry house near Sudley Ford.
(Library of Congress collection)
A cropped enlargement of the Thornberry house photo shows the boys in more detail.
The Thornberry house today.  From 1871-1903, the building served as the Sudley, Va., post office.
(For more on the history of the building, go here.)