
The President’s Message:
Happy Holidays! Robert Krasner will be our speaker on Wednesday, December
10, 2025 at 7:00 PM in the Lake Clarke Shores Town Hall.
His program is entitled What
Robert E. Lee Experienced and Learned During the Mexican War That Was
Applicable during the Civil War. I
look forward to seeing you at the meeting. Refreshments will be served.
Presentation November 12, 2025
Our late member, Janell Bloodworth, had
prepared a future talk which sadly she did not live to present. It was
based on the Special Commemorative Issue of The Civil War Monitor dated
June 2015. She selected a dozen and a half of the articles from the
pages of the magazine entitled The Civil War from A to Z. Gerridine
found the preparation while organizing Janell’s papers. Here is what
Gerridine presented.
The first topic was a recruiting poster
calling “First Class Young Men” to “Rally! Rally!” The call to arms
asked for 100 days with the state paying $20.00 per month and the
federal government will pay $16.00 for a total of $36.00 per month.
Non-commissioned officers will be promoted from the ranks. Gerridine
pointed out that the biggest problem was the $300.00 option by which you
could buy out your need to serve. Men who enlisted in the Union or
Confederate armies did so for a variety of reasons: adventure, duty,
honor, patriotism. Some of these motives spanned the Mason Dixon line,
while other incentives—financial enticements, ending slavery,
preservation of the Union, protecting loved ones from the Yankee
invasion, or loyalty to an adopted country—were more dependent on a
volunteer's region, class, or nativity. Before long, both the Union and
the Confederacy resorted to compelling military service through
conscription—a widely unpopular and divisive policy in the North and
South and avoiding the stigma of being a draftee became a motivation
itself for joining the army. Regardless of their path to service, by
war's end, some 2.2 million men had served in the Union army, while
another 750,000 to 900,000 had fought with Confederate forces.
A question was proposed as to what was the
most valuable piece of equipment a soldier carried. The answer was his
canteen. "If you ever go into battle, have your canteen full," a young
Union soldier wrote to his father shortly after his first time in
combat. "I was so dry at one time I could have drank out of a mud
puddle." Soldiers on both sides had many reasons—including sweltering
marches, furious battles, and stifling wool uniforms —to seek the
momentary relief of a quick drink of water (or, occasionally, other
beverages). A discussion occurred at this point about wool uniforms
which both sides wore.
To bolster rapidly diminishing armies, the
Confederate Congress passed its Conscription Act on April 16, 1862. Men
had originally joined the Confederate service under enlistment terms
ranging from six to 12 months. Under the new act, however, all men
between the ages of 18 and 35 were required to serve in the Confederate
military for three years, and men already in the service had another
three years added to their enlistments. Public sentiment was immediate
and visceral, especially because the act allowed eligible men to hire
substitutes—a loophole that favored the wealthiest rungs of southern
society. Pro-Confederate civilians contended that the draft was a
violation of states' rights, while southern unionists were forced to
choose between fleeing their homes or fighting against their own
beliefs.
We
next turned our attention to identification of the dead. "The dead were
... unrecognizable except by medals or letters found upon them," noted
Union soldier George Allen of the bodies strewn on the ground after the
July 1864 Battle of the Crater. Soldiers on both sides often carried or
wore such "medals" —what today would be considered "dog tags" —so that
their bodies might be identified if the worst befell them. These
identification tags came in a variety of styles, sizes, and materials;
some were store-bought, others homemade.
Gerridine noted that when she and Janell were
putting this presentation together, they were surprised at the number of
immigrants that took part in the fight.
In the two decades preceding the Civil War
more than 4 million immigrants arrived in the United States from Europe
and Asia. In the 1840s, Irish men, women, and children fleeing from
economic hardship, famine, and political inequality made up the majority
of new arrivals; in the 1850s, Germans became the largest group of
foreign émigrés. While Chinese immigrants generally settled in the West,
most European immigrants found work in the factories and industrial
centers of northern cities like New York, Chicago, and Boston; smaller
numbers ventured below the Mason-Dixon line so as to avoid competing
with slave labor. In the south the immigrants were concerned with
competing with slave labor. However, they did not want slavery to end in
the South as they feared that freed slaves would come north and take
their jobs.
While some "native" (that is, white
Protestant) Americans disapproved of Irish and German cultural tenets,
and especially of Catholicism, the influx of new manpower paid dividends
for the Union when sectional tensions finally erupted into armed
conflict: Of the country's 25 largest cities in 1860, only three (New
Orleans, Charleston, and Richmond) were in what would become Confederate
territory. By war's end, more than 350,000 German and Irish immigrants
had served in the Union army. Indeed, one of every four men who donned
Union blue from 1861 to 1865 was born outside of the United States.
Janell thought a lot about the common soldier
as she had kinfolk who fought for the South. Two of her
great-great-great grandfathers had high political positions; governor of
Georgia and mayor of Atlanta. Of course she listed Johnny Reb before
Billy Yank. At this point a bunch of statistics were read off, but I
found this paragraph from the book more interesting.
In the preface to his seminal history of the
common Confederate soldier, The Life of Johnny Reb, historian Bell Wiley
notes that the familiar nickname for Rebel soldiers "seems to have
originated from the practice of Yankees who called out, 'Hello, Johnny'
or 'Howdy, Reb' to opponents across the picket line." Confederates liked
the term and "saw no reason to spurn a catchy name because it was used
first by their opponents," so they adopted both the separate and
combined versions.
In like manner, the description of Billy Yank
was mostly stats, however one did stand out in my mind. The average
height of the Union soldier was 5” 7.6”, the tallest was Lieutenant
David Van Buskirk standing at 6” 10.5”. Although it was not in the talk,
I could not resist adding this paragraph: One of the “secrets” of Monroe
County Civil War history is that the largest man to serve in the Union
army during the entire war was Monroe County’s own David Van Buskirk,
or, as he is familiarly known, Big Dave. He was said to be 6’ 10 ½” in
his stocking feet and to weigh about 375 pounds. Van Buskirk was a
captain in the 27th Indiana Infantry which was a unit that was formed in
the early days of the war in an interesting way. Every community was
competing for young men to join their unit, so many recruiting
“gimmicks” were used to try to get the upper hand on your neighboring
regiment. In the case of the 27th, recruiting speeches were given off
the backs of trains in the counties along the Monon Railroad line
between Indianapolis and Louisville. Recruiters of Co. F, nicknamed “The
Monroe Grenadiers,” encouraged all “really tall” men to join up so that
the soldiers’ size and height alone might intimidate the rebels to drop
their guns and surrender. It was said that over half the men were taller
than six feet at a time when the average height of a man was probably
five feet eight or nine inches. This earned them the regimental
nickname, “Giants in the Cornfield”.
In contrast the shortest confirmed Union
soldier over 21 years old stood only 3’ 4”.
Among
the myriad questions addressed by the compilers of The Medical and
Surgical History of the War of the Rebel lion—the comprehensive,
multi-volume study of Union sick and wounded prepared under the
supervision of the army's surgeon general and published between 1870 and
1888 was this: Where on the body were men most likely to be wounded when
shot, and to what outcome? The following graphic represent an overview
of their findings. One important caveat: These statistics pertain to
wounded soldiers who were evacuated to hospitals, not those killed
outright or left on the field for dead, a fact that likely means that
injuries to the trunk—usually the most fatal and difficult to treat—are
underrepresented. I have included the graphic that was described by
Gerridine.
Now we come to a more personal topic, the
letters soldiers wrote home. Of the myriad ways in which Civil War
soldiers spent their downtime, one seemed nearly universal: writing
letters. " [A]ll wrote letters more or less," recalled one Union
veteran, "but there were a few men who seemed to spend the most of their
spare time in this occupation." Soldiers might purchase stationery
(plain sheets or pages decorated with patriotic images and slogans) from
sutlers or have it sent from home. Those unable to write would often
enlist the aid of a literate comrade; Union soldiers who couldn't afford
a stamp could send a "Soldier's Letter" (writing these words on the
envelope) and have the recipient pay the postage.
Gerridine went on to explain how Lincoln
wanted mail delivered to the soldier’s home. It was common practice to
post the names of the men killed in local post offices, so it was argued
that there was no need for home delivery as people regularly went to the
post offices. But Lincoln said “no.”
Reading the letters they received was an
equally popular pastime for soldiers in camp. They relied on such
correspondence to learn about news from home and regularly scolded
friends and family who failed to write with sufficient frequency. As a
young Union soldier wrote his father in 1863 about his sister, "She
don't write me so often any more. What's the matter with her? If the
folks at home could know what happy fools it made of us to get letters,
they would write more of them and longer ones."
On the topic of economics, just the data was
presented. From the chart in the magazine, we learned comparisons
between North and South. Value of manufactured goods: $1.73 billion vs
$156 million. Bank deposits $207 million vs $47 million. Cotton
production 43 thousand vs 5.3 million. But this did not have the desired
effect the Confederacy had hoped for as Europe found new sources for
cotton in Egypt and India. Tons of coal production 13.7 million vs 650
thousand. Manufacturing establishments 110 thousand vs 18 thousand.
Miles of railroad 22 thousand vs 9 thousand. Tons of shipping 4.6
million vs 290 thousand. Value of firearms produced $2.3 million vs $73
thousand.
While Union and Confederate soldiers are
commonly imagined as having traveled to and from battle on foot or on
horseback, the Civil War marked the first major military effort in
American history in which transportation and shipping by railroad made a
key contribution to the outcome. Throughout the course of the conflict,
both sides utilized railroads to move men, animals, heavy weapons, and a
host of other supplies.
In February 1862, shortly after Congress
passed the Railroad and Telegraph Act, which authorized President
Lincoln to impress any railroad and its equipment and employees into
federal service, the War Department created the United States Military
Railroads (USMRR), which oversaw the repair of damaged lines and the
creation of new ones, as well as organized the rail supply of Union
forces in conjunction with private companies. The organization boasted a
variety of skilled and hardworking officers and men, perhaps most
notably its chief of construction and maintenance, Herman Haupt, whose
crews of white civilians and contraband slaves repaired and built track
and bridges with lightning speed.
Efforts to consolidate military control of
rail lines proved more difficult in the Confederacy: States regularly
resisted President Jefferson Davis' attempts at centralization, and many
rails servicing the same area were either not linked to one another or
employed differently spaced track, making connections nearly impossible.
Moreover, a lack of vital supplies, from iron to wood for railroad ties,
made new construction and repairs a challenge, especially as the war
progressed. Still, Confederate forces used railroads to their advantage
on many occasions during the conflict, shifting troops quickly—and
helping to turn the tide of battle—at such engagements as First Bull Run
and Chickamauga.
In the end, the northern advantage in
railroads was decisive. Whereas the Union added some 4,000 miles of
track to the roughly 22,000 it boasted at the outbreak of the war,
greatly assisting its overall war effort, the Confed
In November 1861 leaders of the Young Men's
Christian Association (YMCA) formed an organization called the United
States Christian Commission "to promote the spiritual and temporal
welfare of the soldiers in the army and the sailors and marines in the
navy, in cooperation with the chaplains and others." Volunteers, known
as delegates, included women; they assisted in hospitals, distributed
donated food and clothing to soldiers, and set up reading rooms—stocked
with Bibles, newspapers, and free writing materials and stamps—near army
camps. By war's end, the USCC had enlisted an estimated 5,000 volunteers
and raised and spent some $6 million for the soldiers' benefit.
While some observers believed that the
delegates' proselytizing was at times aggressive or inappropriate (one
volunteer nurse wrote a friend in 1864 "about the visit of a Christian
commission delegate to their hospital and the gloomy sermons on death he
preaches to the convalescents, till her hair stands on end"), others
were appreciative of their tireless efforts. "The Christian Commission
is beginning to make itself felt here, " wrote a grateful Union soldier
in 1864. "Their agent visits us every day, distributes tracts, papers,
writing paper, envelopes, etc., gives good advice, sings patriotic and
other airs, prays with and for us, and does it all in such a kindly,
benevolent way that he has won all hearts."
Installing the telephone poles was a very
dangerous job. The secession of the southern states caused a major
disruption in the massive commercial telegraph network that crisscrossed
the antebellum United States, as nearly 10 percent of the system's over
50,000 miles of wire and 1,400 stations were located in Confederate
territory. Eager to allow for quick and clear communication between home
front and battlefront—and in particular between each side's capital and
commanders in the field—Union and Confederate officials moved to restore
and expand their telegraphic capabilities. In October 1861, the Lincoln
administration authorized the creation of the U.S. Military Telegraph
Service. Its civilian employees (many of them women) were responsible
for both operating the telegraph system at the front and in Washington's
War Office and for accompanying the armies and laying and repairing
lines as they advanced. The Confederacy, which in 1862 appointed Dr.
William S. Morris, director of the southern branch of the American
Telegraph Company, as head of its military lines, similarly relied on
civilians. The job for operators on both sides was demanding and—for
those tasked with frontline roles—dangerous. Despite the hazards, by
war's end Union workers had constructed more than 15,000 miles of new
telegraph lines, and Confederate workers about 1,000—efforts that
greatly aided in the operation of the northern and southern war efforts.
Last changed: 12/01/25 |