Tales from the road: Cockfighting, cats and mansion exploring

Bethel Place in Columbia, Tenn.

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Saturday’s history adventure begins in the farm office of my early 80ish pal Campbell Ridley, a quasi-town historian of Columbia, Tenn., aficiando of Arby’s jamocha milkshakes and master of playful cats named Marco and Polo.

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

“Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body,” it reads, “but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, ‘Holy shit, what a ride!’”

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

On this fabulous afternoon, we make our way in Ridley’s truck to Bethel Place, the circa-1845 Greek Revival-style mansion of Gideon Pillow’s youngest brother, Jerome Bonaparte Pillow. Ridley’s first cousin, Eva James, has called it home for the past 60 years. She lives here with her husband, Don.

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?

Podcast: Antietam On The Web creator Brian Downey

On Episode 18 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," Antietam On The Web creator Brian Downey talks with co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan about his remarkable web site on the battle. Downey's longtime labor of love features bios and roughly 2,000 photos of soldiers who fought at Antietam, a searchable database, battle maps, a blog and much more.

Podcast: Tom McMillan, John Banks on Antietam, writing

In a freewheeling Episode 17 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," co-hosts and published authors John Banks and Tom McMillan talk about approaches to writing about history, Confederate Brig. Gen. Lewis Armistead at Antietam, what motivates them to return to the battlefield again and again and much more.

Tales from the road: Soaring over 'Fort Sweaty'/Fort Defiance

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The humidity was, like, a billion percent Sunday afternoon here in Middle Tennessee, so naturally I travelled roughly an hour from Nashville to Clarksville for a tattoo of Mrs. B on my forearm at Love Blood Ink (kidding) and a launching of my drone at Fort Defiance.

"Fly" Williams

Over the past year, I’ve examined impressive earthworks at Rocky Face Ridge, Ga., Petersburg, Va., Kennesaw Mountain, Ga., and points in between, so run-of-the-mill earthworks don’t float my boat. But the preserved works at Fort Defiance — built by slaves and soldiers for the Confederacy in November 1861 — sure are tall and well-preserved and may qualify for a spot on my Civil War Earthworks Power Rankings.

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. 👊

Podcast: Antietam-Gettysburg ties with guide Larry Korczyk

On Episode 16 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," Gettysburg licensed battlefield guide Larry Korczyk talks with co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan about the many ties between the battles at Gettysburg and Antietam. Plus, we have a brief discussion of Korczyk's real gig (think Robert DeNiro movie), talk about following in the footsteps of A.P. Hill from Harpers Ferry to Sharpsburg and much more.

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.

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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So en route to Nashville last April, I passed through the Shenandoah Valley on I-81 — “The Devil’s Highway” and a route that seems like a magnet for every tailgater and ornery driver in the United States. 

Along the way, I made a pit stop in tiny Port Republic, Va., to score a “witness tree pen” and a tour from my friend Aaron of the Frank Kemper house, where the body of Confederate cavalry commander Turner Ashby lay in late-spring 1862.

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.

Anywho, I vowed to get one of those “witness pens” after learning about them several years ago from a local man who makes fabulous BBQ chicken at the Port Republic convenience store. The wood for the pens came from a white oak under which Stonewall Jackson supposedly prayed during a Sunday service in mid-June 1862. 

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.

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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Truth be told, Mrs. B and I are smitten with small-town festivals.

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.

“You need to meet Bill,” he said.

“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.

Listen up: One-stop shop for 'The Antietam and Beyond Podcast'

Podcast: Dennis Frye, Troy Cool on their Antietam properties

In Episode 15 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," renowned Antietam historian Dennis Frye and Troy Cool talk with podcast co-host John Banks about their historic properties near the Antietam battlefield. (Podcast co-host Tom McMillan is on vacation.)

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.

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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After a wonderful bike ride through the wilds of Middle Tennessee, I did what many (bored) Americans do on a beautiful Saturday: traveled an hour from Nashville to Manchester, Tenn., in search of the site of Confederate gunpowder works deep in the woods near the fork of the Duck and Little Duck rivers. 😆

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.

Did Shelby Foote ever do this?

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?

Tales from the road: The kid who died in Mrs. Cross' yard

Sharpshooter Lewis Branscomb, an Alabaman, suffered a mortal wound in the yard of this house.

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Each morning during my stay in Harpers Ferry, W.Va., I walked a short distance over the hill from the inn on Washington Street once owned by Robert E. Lee’s father, “Light Horse” Harry Lee, and on into the heart of town.

I walked past this house every day during
a three-day stay in Harpers Ferry.

Along the way, I passed two Civil War hospital sites, the fire department, a gorgeous bed of flowers, the Woman’s Club (est. 1915) and a coffee shop that serves massive chocolate chip cookies worth every calorie. At a red-brick house on Washington Street — the one where the 13-star United States flag slowly flaps in the breeze from the front porch — I lingered for a minute or two.

Here, on July 4, 1864 — our nation’s 88th birthday — a 21-year old private from Union Springs, Ala., named Lewis Branscomb fell victim to a Union sharpshooter’s bullet. A sharpshooter himself, the 3rd Alabama soldier ("Blackford’s Sharpshooters") had already lost two brothers during our awful war.

In the flyleaf of the Bible Lewis carried until his death, he had written a short note: “If found on my person please send to my mother Mrs. B.H. Branscomb at Union Springs, Alabama. Do so and oblige (friend) who ever you be.”

Nearly a year later, after the war’s end, the woman who lived in the red-brick house sent a letter to Lewis’ mother. Margaret Cross had discovered Lewis’ Bible in her yard.

Lewis Branscomb

“If you wish for the book you can [write me],” she wrote. “I will send it by mail immediately and if you wish to know any thing more I will then write you all that I know concerning your son. “

Several years ago, I connected with Frank Chappell, a Branscomb descendant, who guided me to the red-brick house over the phone from his house in Huntsville, Ala. What a surreal day that was.

Lewis' Bible remains lost to history and his final resting place is unknown despite efforts of his descendants to find it. But nearly 100 of the Branscomb brothers' wartime letters remarkably survived the war. They surfaced in 1991 in an old BVD underwear box marked "War Letters" in the family's possession.

On every visit to Harpers Ferry, I sneak a glance of the red-brick house on Washington and wonder about Lewis Branscomb, the kid from Alabama.

Where did he fall in Mrs. Cross’ yard?

Did he linger after the bullet tore into him?

What was that Union sharpshooter thinking when he squeezed the trigger of his weapon?

And, most importantly, was Lewis Branscomb’s sacrifice really worth it?

580 Washington Street in Harpers Ferry. Lewis Branscomb died in the yard of this house.

SOURCE

• Chappell, Frank Anderson, Dear Sister: Civil War Letters to a Sister in Alabama, Branch Springs Publishing, Hunstville, Ala., 2012.

Podcast: Author Steve Stotelmyer on Battle of South Mountain

In Episode 14 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," author/historian Steve Stotelmyer — an Antietam battlefield guide and "Wise guy" — talks with co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan about the legend of Daniel Wise's well (or was it a cistern?) at Fox's Gap, Robert E. Lee's serious injuries during the Maryland Campaign, unheralded battles in western Maryland (Hagan's Gap!) leading up to Antietam, Jesse Reno's death and much more.

Check out new Civil War Trails markers in Maryland, Virginia

Maureen O’Connell with Christopher D. Brown, assistant director of the Civil War Trails program,
at the new marker in Poolesville, Md.  (Courtesy: Civil War Trails, Inc.)

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So I finally made it back to the loving arms of Mrs. B on Sunday night after a six-state, 2,200-mile Civil War odyssey. I have two observations:

• Whoever created I-95 should start over.
• Those great Civil War Trails markers are seemingly everywhere. And a birdie told me of two new ones that I missed:

POOLESVILLE, Md.: A marker at the John Poole House, the oldest building in town. The log structure — located in the historic Medley District at 19923 Fisher Ave. — was built in 1793 by John Poole Jr. and served as a trading post for merchants and families from the surrounding farms and plantations. 

APPOMATTOX, Va.: On the grounds of The American Civil War Museum, where fighting swirled in April 1865. Inquisitive visitors inspired this marker, which highlights the chaos among Confederates as United States cavalry approached and the climactic moment when African American soldiers crossed over museum ground to stop a counter attack.

Let’s keep history alive. 👊

Megan Glewen, Robert Hancock (center) and Bob Sayre of the American Civil War Museum in
Appomattox, Va., pose with the new interpretive sign. It is located just behind the museum
at 159 Horseshoe Rd. (Courtesy: Civil War Trails, Inc.)

Tales from the road: Finding General Alexander Hays

The impressive monument for Alexander Hays in Allegheny Cemetery in Pittsburgh
is ringed with buried cannon tubes.

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No first visit for me to Allegheny Cemetery in Pittsburgh would be complete without a stop at the grave of Alexander Hays.

“Look for the cannon tubes,” a friend advised me.

Even with that tip, the marker for the U.S. general killed during the Battle of the Wilderness proved elusive. Then, after passing a deer and geese exploring the grounds, I glanced to my left. And there he was …

Alexander Hays was killed at the
Battle of the Wilderness.
(Library of Congress)

In a plot ringed by sunken cannon tubes, the good general lies buried next to his wife, Annie.

Hays — who today has a hard apple cider named for him at the Arsenal Cider House in Pittsburgh — endured rumors of his drinking during the war. (Was he really drunk at the Battle of Morton’s Ford, or did those 14th Connecticut soldiers spread fake news?)

Rumors or not, the general received a funeral befitting a war hero.

In mid-May 1864, Hays' funeral procession passed through Pittsburgh neighborhoods. "One of the largest and most imposing ever seen in the city," a witness described the somber event.

"[A]ll along the route the pavement and windows were crowded with persons anxious to witness the last sad ceremonies of a brave and noble officer." the witness recalled. "The stores and principal business houses of the city were closed, in accord with the request of the Mayor, issued at the instance of some of our prominent citizens, and on every hand there was visible the deepest gloom."

In 1868, Ulysses Grant -- then a candidate for president -- visited Pittsburgh and asked to see the grave of his West Point classmate. After reading the inscriptions on Hays' monument, Grant spent a few minutes reflecting. Then, while sitting atop of the cannon tubes near the grave, the future president wept.

The weather for my Sunday visit was chameleon-like: foreboding, gray sky one minute, sunny the next.

 What a scene this site made then then ... and is now. 

Walk these grounds, an urban oasis in one of my favorite places in the whole, wide world.

Let’s keep history alive. 👊

Inscriptions on the front of the Hays monument.

Alexander Hays' grave marker in Allegheny Cemetery in Pittsburgh.

SOURCE

• Life and Letters of Alexander Hays, edited by George Thornton Fleming, Pittsburgh, Pa., 1919, Pages 616 and 658

Podcast: Publisher/historian Ted Savas talks Antietam books

In Episode 13 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," military history book publisher Ted Savas — who's also a historian and passionate rock musician — talks with co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan about some of the more than a dozen Antietam books he has published. In the freewheeling chat, he also talks about the unheralded Virginia battlefield — a "little Shiloh," he calls it — that he helped re-discover in the 1980s. (On the battlefield, he and a friend unearthed roughly 2,000 artifacts — with the landowner's permission.) 

Plus, he explains the process for those who want to write a military history book. (Hint: Be in love with your project.) 

Visit the Savas Beatie web site here. |  Explore Savas Beatie's Antietam books here.

A new Civil War Trails marker in Virginia recognizes nurse

In March, Visit Culpeper unveiled a Civil War Trails sign putting visitors in the footsteps of Cornelia Hancock, a trailblazing pioneer of medical care. The new marker — located at Shiloh Church, 15055 Stevensburg Rd. in Brandy Station, Va. — tells the inspiring story of Hancock, who cared for soldiers in the area during the Civil War.

Old Trade Brewery & Cidery — a women-owned business in Brandy Station — has even created a beer to honor her. (Full disclosure: I like beer.)

Karen Quaintance — a Culpeper resident, registered nurse and staff member at The Museum of Culpeper  History — wrote and researched the new sign.

In the fabulous, colorized image below of Civil War nurses at the 1913 Gettysburg reunion, Hancock is second from left. The other nurses are (from left) Clarissa Jones, Sallie Myers and Mary Townsend. Grab the slider to "colorize" the image for yourself.

Podcast: Antietam ranger Brian Baracz on Elliott burials map

In Episode 12 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," longtime Antietam National Park Service ranger Brian Baracz talks with co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan about the 1864 battlefield burials map of S.G. Elliott. Baracz also talks about his favorite Antietam monument, why the battlefield is so special to him and much more.

• Explore the 1864 Elliott map — part of the New York Public Library Digital Collections — for yourself here.
• Read more about the map on my blog here.

Podcast: 'When Hell Came To Sharpburg' author Steven Cowie

In Episode 11 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," author Steven Cowie shares with co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan stories of the profound impact of the Battle of Antietam on civilians in Sharpsburg, Md. Among the stories Cowie tells is of the heartbreaking loss for farmer William Roulette of his 20-month-old daughter, Carrie May, who died of disease more than a month after the battle. 

Cowie’s book is the result of 15 years of comprehensive study. He unearthed a trove of previously unused archival accounts and examined scores of primary sources, including letters, diaries, regimental histories and official reports. The book is packed with explanatory footnotes, original maps and photographs. Purchase a copy of the book here on publisher Savas Beatie's web site. | More podcasts

Video: Franklin (Tenn.) battlefield reclamation effort explained

Battle of Franklin Trust historian Joseph Ricci explains the effort to reclaim a "crown jewel" of the battlefield on the old Fountain Carter farm. Read more about the reclamation effort on the Battle of Franklin Trust web site.

I nearly plunged into the stump of a battlefield 'witness tree'!

It took quite the effort for me to get this far. (Image courtesy Jonathan Perryman)

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On Sunday afternoon, my friend Tony Patton — our excellent Resaca (Ga.) battlefield guide — made the grave error of pointing out to us the gigantic, lonely stump of a “witness tree” in a field where United States troops advanced during the mid-May 1864 fighting. So naturally, “The Irishman” and I had to see up close this marvel of nature. (Cóilín Ó Coigligh, who’s on a three-week tour of Western Theater sites, gets giddy around “witness trees,” too.)

A look into the black heart of the
Resaca (Ga.) battlefield "witness tree."
(Image courtesy Tony Patton)

According to Patton, a storm took down part of the gigantic red oak. “Then we could see that the inside was pretty rotten and dying off,” he told me. “Was just a matter of time before the whole thing went down.”

While my fellow battlefield trampers watched, I inelegantly made my way to the top of the four-foot high stump for a brief view of its rotten core. As this was St. Patrick’s Day, I had beginner’s luck, coming close but not plunging into the belly of the massive beast. If I had, I'm pretty sure there’d be no getting out and I would have missed the grilled lemon pepper trout dinner at my favorite Cracker Barrel in Chattanooga.

When I showed the photo at top to the disgusted Mrs. B at breakfast on Monday, she only mumbled a few words: “That’s your best side.”

Irishman Cóilín Ó Coigligh and I have a fondness for "witness trees."

Farewell to 'The Irishman,' who's on epic Civil War journey

Before departing for the rest of his Western Theater trip, Cóilín Ó Coigligh visited Shy's Hill,
where John Bell Hood anchored his left flank during the Battle of Nashville.

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Before Irishman Cóilín Ó Coigligh continued his epic three-week journey to other Civil War battlefields in the Western Theater, I gave him an early morning tour of Shy’s Hill — the extreme left flank of the ragged Army of Tennessee’s line during Day 2 of the Battle of Nashville.

But first BREAKING NEWS! The Irishman’s name doesn’t translate to “Little Pub,” as I thought he told me outside a Franklin, Tenn., bar the other night, but to “Little Pup.” Either his brogue or my mighty strong drink threw me off. Or perhaps I was just delirious.

The Irishman posed at Shy's Hill by
the 114th Illinois monument.

Anywho, we hoofed it to the top of Shy’s Hill, where Hank Williams Jr. used to relic hunt, and then proceeded deep into the tony Oak Hill neighborhood to do what most of us Nashvillians do on a beautiful, spring-like day: have a photo taken at a huge battlefield “witness tree” near an antebellum stone wall with a large dog eyeing us warily. 😀

From there, we ventured over to my friend Jim’s house. (Like most Americans, he has a real Civil War cannon in his front yard.) Jim — a Battle of Nashville expert — showed off his impressive Civil War collection and gifted Cóilín — pronounced CO-lean — with honest-to-goodness relics from the battle. The smile on the Irishman’s face was priceless.

I sent Cóilín packing with a copy of Tony Horwitz’s magnificent Confederates In The Attic, a gigantic copy of an Antietam image by Alexander Gardner and the knowledge (I hope) that most Americans are OK.

Well, except for Aaron Rodgers.

The Irishman stands by a battlefield witness tree in Oak Hill, a tony Nashville suburb.

My friend Jim gave the Irishman Battle of Nashville relics, but the cannon was not included.

Podcast: Irish historian Damian Shiels on famed Irish Brigade

In Episode 10 of "The Antietam And Beyond Podcast," Irish historian Damian Shiels joins co-hosts John Banks and Tom McMillan for a fascinating discussion about the famous Irish Brigade that fought on the William Roulette farm and at Bloody Lane during the Battle of Antietam. 

Learn more about Irish Brigade commander Thomas Meagher, common soldiers in the unit, the "procession of death" for the Irish in 1864 and much more. Plus, no podcast with an Irish Civil War historian can go without mentioning Major General Patrick Cleburne, the famous Confederate commander who died at the Battle of Franklin. 

Shiels, an historian and archaeologist, has lectured and published widely on both social military history and conflict archaeology. He established and runs the excellent Irish American Civil War web site and is author of The Irish In The American Civil War. Purchase your copy on Amazon.com. Shiels lives in Finland.

So I met a real, live Irish Civil War buff in a Tennessee pub ...

Irishman Cóilín Ó Coigligh (right) bought a copy of my book in Ireland and
brought it to Tennessee for me to autograph.

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Only one week into his very own Civil War road trip of a lifetime, Irishman Cóilín Ó Coigligh has put 1,200 miles on his rental car, visited the Shiloh, Corinth, Brices Cross Roads, Vicksburg, Big Black River, Champion Hill and Kennesaw Mountain battlefields and made at least one American friend: me.

Over drinks Monday night in Franklin, the delightful Irishman and I bonded over the Civil War and compared road trip notes. I signed a copy of my book for him — an honor for me — and peppered him with questions about Ireland and his epic journey.

“I’ve always loved America,” said Ó Coigligh, who years ago made a swing of Eastern Theater battlefields.

Cóilín Ó Coigligh at the cannon ball
monument on the Franklin (Tenn.) battlefield,
his first visit to the hallowed ground where 
fellow Irishman Patrick Cleburne fell.

Cóilín — pronounced CO-lean — is a 66-year-old retired principal and teacher from Virginia in County Cavan, roughly an hour drive from Dublin and 3.5 hours from the boyhood home of one of his heroes, Confederate Major General Patrick Cleburne. During our 90-minute visit, I also learned Ó Coigligh’s name means “Little Pup” and his great grandfather toiled at the Guinness Brewery in Dublin.

“She doesn’t get it,” he said with a grin.

Join the club, “Little Pup.”😬

Minie balls purchased decades ago by my dad — “Big Johnny” — in Gettysburg hooked me on the Civil War. I was 12. Topps Civil War bubble gum cards purchased at Mrs. Moloney’s shop in his hometown hooked Cóilín. He was six or seven.

Since then, Ó Coigligh has fed his obsession — visiting battlefields and reading everything he can on our war. “I have 183 books on the Civil War,” he told me. On a rainy day in County Cork, he even visited the graves of Cleburne’s parents.

After drinks, I suggested a drive down Columbia Pike to the Franklin battlefield for his first visit to the killing field. We parked, crossed the pike and briefly examined the cannon ball monument near where  Cleburne fell. Night had fallen, leaving only the beams of passing vehicles and street lights to illuminate the monument.

Minutes later, my new friend and I parted.

“May God bless you, John,” he said.

God bless you, “Little Pup.”

'Extraordinary' William Sherman collection to be auctioned

William Sherman's sword will be among the items from the general's personal 
collection up for auction. (Images of Sherman collection courtesy of Fleischer’s Auctions)

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Moments after ending a call with Adam Fleischer — the 30-year-old president of Columbus, Ohio-based Fleischer’s Auctions — I made a beeline to Mrs. B.

”This man in Ohio is auctioning off Gen. William Sherman’s sword and other artifacts,” I said, practically spitting out the words. “It’s an incredible collection.”

William Sherman

Staring at her computer, Mrs. B looked as exhilarated as Jefferson Davis the day he found out the United States Army made it to the outskirts of Richmond.

For those of us ingrained in the Civil War community, though, this is big news.

On May 14, Fleischer will auction off the remarkable collection, long owned by Sherman’s western Pennsylvania-based descendants. On a visit to a Gettysburg museum, they asked for recommendations for an auction house for the collection, most of which they had stored for decades in an attic. (They kept the sword in Sherman’s trunk.)

Use Fleischer’s, they were told.

“It’s an honor to be handling this,” Fleischer told me.

Besides the sword, which would look great in my home office, the collection includes the “War Is Hell” general’s personal copies of Ulysses S. Grant’s memoirs, his uniform’s rank insignia worn during the Civil War, the Sherman family bible with “meticulous records” written by the general himself and Sherman’s copy of Photographic Views of Sherman’s Campaign — George Barnard’s photographic record of the general’s “March to the Sea.”

“When I saw this collection for the first time, I had goosebumps,” Fleischer said.

Sherman’s copy of Photographic Views
 of Sherman’s Campaign.

During our phone call, Fleischer seemed especially excited about Sherman’s copies of Grant’s memoirs. As Fleischer's rare books specialist Danielle Linn was taking photos of one of the volumes, she shouted, “Adam!”

In pencil, the general had written in the margins of the book, including a mild criticism of Grant.

Fleischer has handled big-time collections before. Over the years, he has dealt with the nation’s leading repositories and institutions, including the Smithsonian, Library of Congress and National Portrait Gallery. But the Sherman collection tops them all for him.

“Extraordinary,” Fleischer calls it.

For information on the auction, go here.

William Sherman's uniform’s rank insignia worn during the Civil War.

Tales from the road: Who cares about Battle of Knob Gap?

During the Battle of Knob Gap on Dec. 26, 1862, United States troops advanced
 toward the gap between the nobs on Nolensville Pike.
(CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

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Following a long bike ride, I crave a history fix, so I park at Wabash Southern Kitchen in Nolensville, Tenn., across the road from the Amish furniture maker, and make my way into an antiques store.

Across busy Nolensville Pike, a lonely historical marker tells any visitors who dare view it that “foraging and skirmishing took place here during the Civil War.”

Today, though, Nolensville — which sprouted along Mill Creek late in the 18th century — is morphing into Anywhere, USA. Here, along the pike roughly 12 miles south of Nashville, you’ll find a mishmash of suburban schlock — an excellent BBQ restaurant, service stations, apartment complexes and a joint that makes honey golden wings to die for. An ancient cabin that somehow staggered into the 21st century still stands along the pike, but I imagine few pay it notice.

A historical marker in Nolensville briefly
mentions the town's Civil War connection, but
the battlefield nearby is unmarked.

“Is there anyone in town who can tell me about the Civil War battle fought here?” I ask the woman sitting behind the counter at the antiques store. 

Judging from the look on her face, it’s probably the first time anyone has asked about the Battle of Knob Gap, fought two miles from town on Dec. 26, 1862. It’s one of those 10,000 battle sites historian David McCullough told us about in Ken Burns’ epic Civil War doc — as obscure as Sacramento, Ky. , and Hartsville, Tenn., hallowed ground I’ve recently visited.

“Have you tried the museum?” she tells me.

Damn, the museum — housed in an old schoolhouse up the pike — closed an hour earlier. It looks like I’m on my own. So I push down the road — a muddy, mucky mess for U.S Army soldiers in late winter 1862, a two-lane drag strip in 2024.

Beyond town and the schlock, the ground opens up. To my right, amid the rolling fields, is a horse farm and a field of yellow daffodils beyond a gleaming, white fence. In the distance, smoke from a fire wafts into a deep-blue sky.

“In front and to our left was an open plain for some distance in which is located the little Southern town of Nolensville,” a U.S Army officer described this scene in 1862. “Surrounding this plain, or rather basin, is a continuous chain of hills, high and precipitous.”

The pike, bordered by farmland during the war, splits the knobs. On the high ground, a small Confederate force and artillery awaited.

The Rebels positioned cannon on this hill.

“The ridge itself with the knobs forms as fine a military position to hold against an attack as I ever saw in an open country,” a United States commander wrote.

I swerve into a driveway, park and take in this unmarked, forgotten battlefield. To my left is a steep hill — that’s where soldiers from the 15th Wisconsin captured a cannon from Georgians, who had captured it at Shiloh months earlier. I wander if the folks who live in the one-story house on the hill know what happened here long ago.

Few casualties resulted at the Battle of Knob Gap — perhaps several dozen or so — but it left an impression on those who fought here. 

"A gang of cattle got between the lines during the fight and ran wildly from line to line. One of them had its leg broken by a Rebel shell and was devoured by the heroes of the day,” an Illinois private wrote.

A Wisconsin soldier, though, remembered the sounds of battle.

“The air resounded with the hideous noise of the shells whizzing and bursting before us, behind us, above us, and among us,” he recalled about Knob Gap.

Minutes after stopping, I return to my vehicle and swerve back into traffic. In a flash, the 19th century and crackle of gunfire and whizzing and bursting of shells are left behind.

U.S. troops advanced through this field, now a haven for daffodils.

---

For more stories like this, read my book, A Civil War Road Trip Of A Lifetime. Email me at jbankstx@comcast.net for details on how to get an autographed copy.  

SOURCE

HAT TIP: Dan Masters’ excellent blog — the source for the soldiers’ quotes.