JOHN BANKS'
CIVIL WAR BLOG
"Stories are everywhere. You just have
to pay attention." — Dave Kindred
Friday, October 18, 2024
Podcast: Michael Hill on how to become Antietam guide, more
Sunday, October 13, 2024
Tales from the road: 'The King' and I and a 'Harvest of Death'
Bob Kalasky explains a detail in "The Harvest of Death" image. |
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“Watch out for ticks,” warns the author of Shadows Of Antietam, a well-received book on images taken in 1862 on that bloody battleground. “I hate ticks.” My gawd, will short-pants me be ravaged by those nasty, little bloodsuckers?
On this glorious day, we’re here on the Day 1 field, within site of Barlow’s Knoll and the 17th Connecticut monument, for Kalasky to persuade me that this is indeed the spot where Timothy O’Sullivan photographed United States Army dead in the aftermath of the battle. The location of (in)famous “A Harvest Of Death” photograph has eluded historians and others. Over the years, 40 locations have been identified as the spot, but none of those investigations have led to a consensus among experts.The ghastly Gettysburg photograph known as "The Harvest of Death." (Library of Congress) |
"The King" with a blow-up of "The Harvest of Death" photo. |
Kalasky — whom I fondly call “The Shadow King” or simply “The King” — is convinced we stand at the location. I consider him a friend, although our association led to brief tension/unintended hilarity with Mrs. B, who as de facto family chief financial officer oversees nearly all of my purchases topping, say, 40 bucks.
True story: Weeks after buying Kalasky’s book, Mrs. B spotted “massage” on my credit card bill. Gulp. It took all my vast powers of persuasion to convince her of the legitimacy of the purchase.
"The King" and I. |
“This is nuts!”
His research and interpretation of it seem good to me, but I’m no expert.
“Look at that horse’s ass,” Kalasky says of O’Sullivan’s photograph. Is it a grand clue or merely a false lead?
What we both know for certain is that we stand on hallowed ground. Union soldiers from the 11th Corps, including those from Kalasky’s Ohio, fell in this unremarkable field on July 1, 1863.
“Those poor bastards,” I say of those men.
“Oh, absolutely,” says “The King. “Absolutely.”
Kalasky traipses over the Day 1 battlefield at Gettysburg, near Barlow's Knoll. where he believes Timothy O'Sullivan created his famous "Harvest of Death" photo. |
LISTEN to Kalasky on our "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast."
Wednesday, October 02, 2024
Podcast: Antietam guide Kevin Pawlak on Final Attack, more
Saturday, September 28, 2024
Tales from the road: Peanut soup but no 'ghost cats' in Virginia
Historical marker in front of The Wayside Inn in Middletown, Va. |
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Quick recap: During a tour of the place by Piers — the inn’s excellent and enthusiastic communications director — he pointed out a historical marker in front of the inn that references General Nathaniel “Bobbin Boy” Banks.
Nathaniel Banks |
At dinner Thursday night at the tavern, I met two gentlemen from Europe. Here’s a complete transcript of our convo:
“Where are you from?”
“Sweden.”
“Welcome.”
Plus, I struck up a conversation with a delightful couple — shout-out to Sheri and Hugh! — from California dining at the table next to me. They offered me some of their yummy-looking peanut soup (I respectfully passed) and bought a copy of my book (A Civil Road Trip Of A Lifetime), cementing what should become an eternal friendship.
By the way, Sheri and Hugh — who told me of their deep respect for journalism — sat next to the ancient (circa 1740) and deep (45 feet) town well. (Earlier, our tour group peered into the mysterious well.)
Guests peer into the ancient well at The Wayside Inn & Larrick's Tavern. |
A view of the well through Plexiglass. |
Overnight, I slept in the Jubal Early Room at the reputedly haunted inn. I heard no tramping of Civil War soldiers’ boots and didn’t see those “ghost cats” that allegedly walk between Room No. 2 — the room where “Little Phil” Sheridan supposedly stayed — and Room No. 1, the “Old Jube” room. And, no, the ghost of General Early didn’t torment me with any Lost Cause musings. (I did, however, hide my wallet inside the case for my drone — you know, just in case any spirits came looking.)
Early this morning, I spied strange flashes of light dancing on my wall. (Probably should be title of my autobiography.) But I figured they were merely the nasty effects of those CBD gummies I take to sleep.
A sketch created during the war by James E. Taylor of Rebel General Jubal Early in the room where I slept at The Wayside Inn. |
Friday, September 27, 2024
Tales from the road: 'Ghost cats,' communing with Early's spirit
Piers Lamb, the excellent communication director of The Wayside Inn, conducts a tour. |
Kyla is related to some guy named Robert E. Lee. |
“His painting stares at me every day,” she says cheerfully, gesturing toward the wall in front of her.
Anywho, the next thing I know I’m standing, dazed, in front of the late 18th-century inn, where Piers — The Wayside Inn’s enthusiastic communications director — is conducting a tour for a septuagenarian motorcycle club called the Voyagers. The drone of traffic on the Valley Pike in front of the inn nearly spoils his excellent talk about the colorful history of the place.
Over the years, according to Piers, a veritable who’s who of arts, culture and finance have stayed at the Wayside Inn, including Eleanor Roosevelt, James Earl Jones, Tom Cruise and John Rockefeller Jr.
During the Civil War, officers from both sides frequented the inn and tavern, including “Little Phil” Sheridan of Battle of Cedar Creek renown. (A monument to Union Colonel Charles Russell Lowell, mortally wounded at Cedar Creek, stands in front of the Wayside Inn.)
Jubal Early |
Naturally, guests in the tour group wonder about ghosts in the inn, so Piers feeds the need.
“This is one of the seven most haunted inns in Virginia,” he says.
The Wayside Inn in Middletown, Va., has welcomed guests since the late 18th century. |
Piers tells us of an old telephone in one of the rooms that would never stop ringing, even after the yanking of its plug from the wall. Plus, among other ghostly experiences, guests have heard troops tramping through the inn and kitchen workers have had their aprons tugged by unknown forces. (The Mirror Room, where seances once were held, is supposedly the most haunted in the place.)
But by far the weirdest Wayside Inn story is of “ghost cats” moving from Room No. 2, where Sheridan supposedly stayed, to Room No. 1, Early’s room and — gulp! — MY ROOM.
I think this is gonna be a long, one-eye-open night.
READ MORE about The Wayside Inn & Larrick’s Tavern.
The Jubal Early Room, where I spent a sleepless night. |
Monday, September 23, 2024
Tales from the road: A vanishing act at Stones River battlefield
Stan Hutson stands on site of Day 1 fighting -- Dec. 31, 1862 -- being prepped for development. |
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“Park over there,” my friend Stan directs Civil War travel pal/driver Jack, who once hypnotized me at dawn at Fort Granger in Franklin, Tenn. He pulls off into a gravel parking area of a construction site.
Roughly a half-mile behind us is core Stones River battlefield of the national military park, which includes the infamous Slaughter Pen. In front of us, several hundred yards from a Rooms To Go furniture store and a Whataburger, we spot construction equipment and a vast, mostly barren scene reminiscent of the surface of the moon. In the far distance stand two mountains of dirt.
“I guarantee you’d find a cannon ball or two in there,” says Stan, who hunts for relics on private property (with permission) on the battlefield in his spare time. To our right, near an earthmover, he unearthed 500 percussion caps, evidence of the intense fighting on this hallowed ground on Dec. 31, 1862 — Day 1 of the Battle of Stones River.
Going, going ... Day 1 Stones River battlefield |
Every day, pitiless developers carve up more of this unheralded battlefield, where nearly 25,000 Americans became casualties over three days. In a few months, the moon-like scene before us will be occupied by more urban schlock, perhaps including Murfreesboro’s 507th McDonald’s, 52nd Circle K or 21st Wendy’s.
Only a fraction of this vast battlefield is part of the national military park. For the rest, it’s open season. History is not winning this battle. From the Whataburger parking lot, we get a Confederate soldier’s view of this vanishing battlefield.
Stan Hutson holds a battle map on the Day 3 field (Jan. 2, 1863), now a residential housing development. |
After lunch at Buster’s bar — Jack paid, so it tasted much better than regular grub — we venture to scene of fighting on Day 3 of the Battle of Stones River. What once a was soybean field is now being prepped for a tony residential housing development. To our left, on ground where soldiers clashed on Jan. 2, 1863, stands a mega-mansion under construction.
“Dream Acres Pool Company,” reads the sign in the front yard.
“This,” Stan says, holding a battle map, “is the heart of the Day 3 battlefield.” He speculates Confederate artillery fired from a tree line in the far distance, near Sinking Creek.
My gawd, what’s happening to the Stones River battlefield? Blink and the rest of it soon may be gone.
A McMansion on Day 3 Stones River hallowed ground |
Above and below: Drone views of Day 3 Stones River battlefield. |
Monday, September 16, 2024
Podcast: Antietam battle anniversary edition soldier stories
"7 AM at which I am wounded," one of the them, a soldier from Michigan, wrote in his journal. "This is written on the spot wherein I lay. May God bless me and forgive all my sins, through Jesus Christ."
Friday, September 06, 2024
Podcast: Antietam Institute president Chris Vincent
Wednesday, September 04, 2024
Check out new Civil War Trails marker in East Tennessee
The recently installed marker at Hayslope in Russelville, Tenn. |
A 19th-century image of Hayslope. (Tennessee State Library & Archives. Garden Study Club of Nashville Collection: History of Homes and Gardens of Tennessee, 1936. |
Wednesday, August 28, 2024
Check out new Civil War Trails marker at Brandy Station, Va.
Peter Morcarski, treasurer of the Brandy Station Foundation, and BSF secretary Peggy Misch pose at the newly installed Civil War Trails market at Graffiti House. |
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Wartime graffiti inside the house. |
In 2014, while en route to visit the Cedar Mountain battlefield nearby, I stopped at Graffiti House, a short distance off U.S. Route 15/29. The museum was closed, but it didn't take much convincing to gain access. A Brandy Station Foundation board member answered my call to the number on the sign on the museum door, and within 10 minutes, he arrived in his black pickup to conduct a 90-minute tour for me and a couple from Virginia.
The building has changed hands numerous times since the Civil War, serving as an antiques shop and an office for a period of time. The foundation acquired the once-derelict structure in 2002 for $98,000. Wartime graffiti was discovered during a renovation in the early '90s upon removal of wallpaper, and further investigation in 2013 revealed even more in a crawl space under stairs and what is now the first-floor bathroom.
On a wall — not part of the original house, I believe — 21st-century descendants of of Robert E. Lee and Jeb Stuart scrawled their names.
For more on the house and Brandy Station Foundation, go here.
Graffiti left by descendants of Robert E. Lee and J.E.B. Stuart. |
Tuesday, August 20, 2024
Podcast: Author Bob Kalasky, Antietam photo expert
Saturday, August 10, 2024
Podcast: Dana Shoaf of National Museum of Civil War Medicine
Saturday, July 27, 2024
30 seconds over Shy's Hill, a Battle of Nashville landmark
Sunday, July 21, 2024
Tales from the road: Cockfighting, cats and mansion exploring
Bethel Place in Columbia, Tenn. |
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Ridley, a descendant of Confederate Brig. Gen. Gideon Pillow, has a delightful sense of humor that he deploys liberally with friends, family and assorted hangers-on. Exhibit 1: A sign that greets visitors on a wall in his farm office.
Original blue poplar floors in the mansion |
I vote yes!
Over the past several years out here in Civil War history-rich Maury County, roughly 50 miles south of downtown Nashville, I have explored with Ridley the remains of Ashwood Hall, the mansion of Confederate Gen. Leonidas Polk and his brother that fire destroyed in 1874; walked gingerly through slave cabins on his daughter’s property; examined weed-choked graves at an off-the-beaten path cemetery at the base of Ginger Hill and breathed in the awesome aroma in the ancient smokehouse at Pillow’s Clifton Place plantation.
A cockfighting chair |
Inside, I marvel at the original walnut doors and blue poplar floors, outsized paintings of family members and massive mirrors. The 14-foot high ceilings spark a discussion of the ungodly sum it must cost to heat/cool this huge home. The place even has an elevator, added long ago by Eva James' father.
But the piece de resistance of my inside tour is a mundane piece of brown furniture in the parlor.
“This,” Ridley says, “is a cockfighting chair.”
Folks sat in the chair, flipped down the tray and placed their bets on it on the fighting fowl — an activity unfamiliar to me growing up in gritty Mount Lebanon, Pa.
Outside, I marvel at the Ionic columns — yup, they’re original, too — and the antebellum stone wall, the handiwork of Jerome Pillow’s slaves. Naturally, I send a drone up in the air to take in the Pillow era outbuildings — the kitchen, law office and smokehouse — as well as the mansion from 250-plus feet.
A drone view of Bethel Place shows (clockwise from left) the law office, smokehouse, kitchen and mansion. |
Attached to a stone pillar, a metal ring intrigues us. Did Gideon Pillow — a goat of the Rebels’ defeat at Fort Donelson in February 1862 — tie up his horse at this spot while visiting Jerome? I wonder where the armies skirmished near Bethel Place, a few miles from the Columbia square.
Back at the farm office, Ridley HQ, my tour guide whips out his phone to show off a video of Marco and Polo scrapping like professional wrestlers.
What a great day.
Let’s keep history and catfighting — but not cockfighting — alive. 👊
Marco ... or is this Polo? |
Polo ... or is this Marco? |
Saturday, July 20, 2024
Podcast: Antietam On The Web creator Brian Downey
Saturday, July 13, 2024
Podcast: Tom McMillan, John Banks on Antietam, writing
Monday, July 01, 2024
Tales from the road: Soaring over 'Fort Sweaty'/Fort Defiance
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"Fly" Williams |
After parking, I made a beeline for the air-conditioned comfort of the Fort Defiance visitors center, where a sweet woman at the front desk gave me clearance for a drone takeoff. (Energized for a launching, I skipped the 18-minute movie and nice displays in the VC.)
Within minutes, I had my Ruko F11 Pro in the air, slicing through the oppressive humidity like a fireplace poker though ashes and soaring as high as 350 feet for views of the fort and Cumberland and Red rivers and Clarksville beyond. (Clarksville, by the way, is home of Austin Peay University, where one of my all-time favorite college basketball players — the legendary “Fly” Williams — averaged 29.4 points in 1972-73 but got waxed by Notre Dame in the first round of the NCAAs, 108-66. But I digress…)
Confederates abandoned the fort after soldiers commanded by U.S. Grant conquered forts Donelson and Henry upriver and wreaked havoc in the area in the winter of ‘62. But the Rebels reconquered the defenses in August 1862 before the United States Army took over the place for good the next month. The bluecoats called the place Fort Bruce.
On this muggy afternoon, someone should have rechristened it “Fort Sweaty” because I needed a change of clothes after only two 15-minute drone runs. Ugh. And we have no hot water for showers after the water heater went out Saturday.
Psst: Let’s keep my fort drone runs between us. Mrs. B is already worried the flying camera may take out a transformer in the neighborhood. And let’s keep history alive. 👊
Sunday, June 30, 2024
Podcast: Antietam-Gettysburg ties with guide Larry Korczyk
Korczyk co-authored Top Ten at Gettysburg, published March 2017. Since 2002, he has reenacted with the 2nd Rhode Island Infantry Volunteers, acting as company commander. A longstanding member of the Robert E. Lee Civil War Round Table and chairman of the James I. Robertson Jr. Literary Prize for Confederate History, Korczyk shows his passion for history in each battlefield tour he gives.
Friday, June 28, 2024
Tales from the road: Civil War meets 'Civil Weird' in Virginia
"Turner Ashby" rests in his "coffin" where the real Turner Ashby lay in 1862. |
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As some of you may recall from this space, a couple years ago Aaron quit his gig as a cop to mow battlefields. The man sure has a passion for the Civil War.
The folks in this "kinda creepy" image stare at the faux Turner Ashby in a coffin. |
In 2011, locals had the pens made from “Jackson Prayer Tree” trimmings. (The tree had toppled in a windstorm.)
After scoring pens — plural — from Aaron, he showed me inside the Kemper house, the home for a first-floor museum that includes artillery shells, swords and guns — all stuff Mrs. B will never let in our own house.
The place also includes one of the stranger Civil War displays you’ll ever see: a coffin with a life-sized, post-mortem image in the opening of the 34-year-old Ashby — “The Black Knight of the Confederacy” — who had been killed at a skirmish near Harrisonburg (Va.) on June 6, 1862.
Locals and Confederate soldiers paid respects to the real Ashby at this very house. Jackson himself was among the mourners. The faux coffin rests on the same spot where Ashby’s body once lay.
In the window above it is a bizarre, modern image of a woman, boy and a Confederate soldier staring intently at the photo of Ashby in the coffin.
“It’s kinda creepy,” Aaron admitted.
You’re telling me.
Side notes: Country ham sandwiches from the Port Republic convenience store sure are salty. Aaron told me he recently got a 96-inch mower to replace the 48-inch mower, making battlefield mowing a breeze.
The Frank Kemper house in Port Republic, Va. |
For more stories like this, get a copy of my book, A Civil War Road Trip Of A Lifetime. Email me at jbankstx@comcast.net for details.
Wednesday, June 19, 2024
Tales from the road: A brief visit with son of a Civil War soldier
Bill Pool, a World War II veteran, with admirers at the Cherry Blossom Festival in Marshfield, Mo. |
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Over the course of our 32-year marriage, we’ve ogled “The World’s Largest MoonPie” at the MoonPie festival in blistering-hot Bell Buckle, Tenn., listened to fiddlers at the sweltering Smithville (Tenn.) Jamboree and met the actor who played Chip in the old “My Three Sons” TV series at the Cherry Blossom Festival in Marshfield, Mo., where they have, like, 100 churches per square mile.
(Please note: We've also attended a hot chicken festival in Nashville, but it's no longer a small town.)
In late April at the Cherry Blossom Festival, following a chance meeting with the daughters of Bill Virdon — the former Pittsburgh Pirates star outfielder and manager — the festival director pointed me to a room in a church that served as a festival HQ.
Bill Pool (bottom right) stands by his father, Charles, a Civil War veteran. |
“Bill” is William Pool, 99, a World War II veteran of the Battle of the Bulge and reportedly the son of a Civil War veteran. He sat in a wheelchair, mostly enjoying the attention from festival attendees, some of whom got his autograph. He’ll turn 100 in January.
Bill’s father, Charles Parker Pool — born in 1844 — served with the Sixth West Virginia during the Civil War. Now math was never my strong suit while attending Julia Ward Howe Elementary in suburban Pittsburgh, but I think that would make Charles 80 when Bill was born.
While she attended grade school, Bill’s daughter, Carolyn, delighted telling the teacher of her grandfather’s Civil War service.
“And the teacher would go, ‘Now honey. There is no way that your grandfather served in the Civil War,’ “ she recently told a reporter. “And I tried to tell them, ‘Yes, he did.’”
The "only son of a Civil War soldier still alive," reads the headline on that story.
Of course, I subscribe to this old journalism maxim: “If your mother tells you she loves you, get another source.” So I must do more digging on this story.
In the meantime, READ MORE.
Tuesday, June 11, 2024
Podcast: Dennis Frye, Troy Cool on their Antietam properties
Frye's house served as Ambrose Burnside's headquarters in the battle's aftermath, and in early October 1862, President Lincoln visited the general there.
Cool and his wife, Emily, live in a historic house on a farm that served as a major hospital site for the Union Army's Ninth Corps. On Sept. 15, 1862, two days before the battle, the Ninth Corps bivouacked on the property.
Sunday, June 09, 2024
Tales from the road: A visit to site of a Rebel gunpowder mill
A couple takes a selfie with kids at the confluence of Duck and Little Duck rivers. Alas, they didn’t know of the site of the Confederate gunpowder works. |
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Blame historian/military books publisher Ted Savas for this historical/hysterical diversion. Weeks ago, at his excellent talk at the Franklin (Tenn.) Civil War Round Table, he mentioned two mills near Nashville that (barely) supplied the Confederacy with gunpowder early in the war — one along Sycamore Creek and another in Manchester.
And so I vowed to visit the sites.
“I am thinking you got a small but nasty virus triggered by exposure to gunpowder history,” Savas wrote me in an email a week or so before my drive to Manchester.
Why, of course, I found a Civil War Trails marker for the Manchester Powder Mill. |
Seconds after my arrival at Old Stone Fork State Archaeological Park in Manchester, I discovered (naturally) a Civil War Trails marker about the gunpowder works. Then I made my way past a man showing off animal pelts over to the Old Stone Fort museum, where I peppered a bemused docent with questions about the gunpowder works.
“Where can I find the remains?” I said almost breathlessly.
“Well, there’s not much left.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, pal,” I said under my breath.
Then he handed me a map of the Old Stone Fort (built hundreds of years ago by Native Americans) and drew a line on a map to the site of the powder mill. It’s about a 3/4-mile walk through the woods.
Native American mound at the ancient fort by the Duck River. |
Remains of a paper mill on the path toward the gunpowder mill site. |
And so like a sweaty jackrabbit on an adrenaline rush, I bounded through the woods on a hot afternoon — staggering over exposed tree roots and past sunbathers, Duck splashers, fishermen, panting dogs with their masters, steep cliffs, ancient Native American fort mounds and the ruins of a paper mill — to the confluence of Duck and Little Duck, supposed site of the Confederate powder works.
Map on historical marker denotes buildings for gunpowder mill. |
About 25 yards from the Duck, a historical marker includes a hard-to-read map of powder mill buildings (I lost track at seven), so I figured the remains must be SOMEWHERE in the woods.
“I’m here to find the powder works,” I asked a couple taking a selfie with their kids in the water at the confluence of the Duck and Little Duck. “Have you seen anything?”
They looked at me the way your dog does when it hears a high-pitched sound.
Alas, I found no powder mill foundation stones, but a ditch near the Duck looks suspiciously like the mill race for the Confederate gunpowder complex. So I’m sticking with that.
I sure hope there’s a cure for this gunpowder virus.
Let’s keep history alive. 👊
Is this the mill race along the Duck River for the gunpowder mill? |