A Rough Passage

Oliver composes his next letter to his sister Abbie on January 19, 1862, on the day after he arrives aboard the schooner Recruit in the Hatteras Inlet of North Carolina. His last letter announced the arrival of his ship at Fortress Monroe on January 13^th and according to this letter, Recruit left Monroe on January 18^th for the passage south. Most of the vessels in Burnside’s Expedition have arrived off the North Carolina coast by the time the Recruit reaches the inlet. The schooner is being used as a hospital ship and Oliver has spent the majority of the past three weeks on the hospital ship although he professes to be in good health after several bouts with fever.

The largest amphibious operation to this point in American military history has not gone well for General Burnside and his fleet of ships. Typical winter weather along the east coast amplified by a significant storm that hit just as the fleet left Fortress Monroe has caused considerable delays in the movement. The passengers and crew of the Recruit also experience these storms during their journey.

Oliver describes the wild scene on board the ship:

The waves ran pretty high through the day and increased to a gale at night. At 12 o’clock the waves swept over the deck and carried away the ship’s boats, the vessel rocking at the same time so violently as to rock some out of their berths and send all the wood and boxes tumbling over the deck. The wind broke loose gaff (a piece of round timber 8 inches through and sent it flying over the deck. The boilers (large heavy copper which are kept on the stove continually) of coffee were overturned and the boiling liquid sent streaming over the deck. The confusion was general, many falling out of their berths, others falling flat upon the floor. One boiler fell down the hatchway making causalities too numerous to mention.

For his part, Oliver finds a bit of humor in his personal experience with the rough passage:

I was fast asleep when I heard the racket and such laughing and enraging [?] I never heard before. One thing was falling here, another there – those that were in their berths rolling from one side to the other (that is those that were lucky enough to keep in) and those that were holding on to the sides. There was no danger, only a little rolling and a little fun.

Later in the letter, Oliver shows more of his indifference to the stormy conditions by writing that he “slept very soundly when in my berth while everyone else were rolling about the deck.”

Burnside’s Expedition does suffer some causalities and the lost of vessels. Although he is still on the ship, Oliver provides a fairly accurate description of the disposition of the fleet in his letter to Abbie. This includes the sinking of the gunboat Zouave and the drowning of Colonel Allen and Surgeon Wellen of the 9^th New Jersey who died as a result of the swamping of their small boat as they returned to their ship from a shore reconnaissance.

A New York Times Special Correspondent gives a complete description of the journey.

Wreck of the Gunboat Zouave in Hatteras Inlet, North Carolina, January 1862

Oliver goes on to express his concern about the fate of his regiment, the 8^th Connecticut, from whom he has not heard. Also, he returns to the subject of the Zouave Drum Major we met in his letter of January 9^th.

The Zouave drum major died night before last (sic?) and his body left at Annapolis. He was a commissioned officer and had no business to come with us on the hospital ship.  The band to which he belonged was dissolved 2 weeks before he started but he was getting $60.00 a month which was too good a berth [?] to give up without a struggle. He never was well enough to come aboard. He died of the rheumatic fever.

In my research, I have been unable to determine the identity of this drum major. I presume the “Zouaves” referred to in Oliver’s letters are the 9^th New York Infantry.  However, I cannot locate a drum major reference other than Charles T. Smith who mustered in on May 4, 1861 and was discharged only three weeks later for incompetence.

Oliver closes his letter by asking about several of his friends from back home and passing along his regards to family members. He seems to be glad to stay and work on the ship serving the sick, “if it were not for that horrid sea sickness.”

 

Anchors Away: Heading for Dixie

Writing from on board the schooner “Recruit” beginning on January 9, 1862, Oliver writes in a journal type of format for the next five days making a short entry on each day. The schooner is being used as one of two hospital ships in Burnside’s expeditionary force. A New York Times article from February 12, 1862 provides a description of the two hospital ships and their surgeons.

Oliver’s entries are short due primarily to the rough seas the vessel is encountering sailing for Fortress Monroe. They are expected to depart on January 9th, but are forced to wait until the 11th before sailing. There are several interesting items from the letter over the five days:

Oliver has “great confidence in our new doctors” and expresses his regret that “we did not have the doctors before and have something done for Sexton.” He offers as evidence of the clinical effectiveness of these new physicians the fact that “the sick are much better; none dangerous.” This is more likely attributed to leaving the preventative medicine nightmare of camp life for the fresh air of the open seas. There is some recognition of this by the doctors who order the soldiers to go out on deck for fresh air at various times while on the schooner. Oliver mentions the head surgeon of hospital ship, Dr. S.A. Green of the 24th Mass.

For his part, Oliver is “in the best of health with a good appetite.” Because of his helpfulness in caring for the sick soldiers, the nurses provide him with extra rations. In fact, he confesses to eating “two rations at every meal…” Oliver does mention that he has a sore throat but attributes it to “smoking strong tobacco.” The revelation that he smokes is not surprising given the fact that his father, Job Case, is a tobacco farmer back in Simsbury.

Oliver also writes about a ”Zouave drum major, a Frenchman who cannot understand English, is quite bad off with the rheumatism.” After the patient tries to get up and move around, he falls and can’t get back up. Oliver and another soldier ”carried” the drum major back to his bed. He also comments that “the Dr. talks with him in French.”

The food aboard the ship is a problem for Oliver and the other soldiers as a creative cook attempts to make soup from sea water. The soup is so awful that the soldiers not only complain to the doctor, but begin to circulate a petition to go to ”the general” likely meaning General Burnside. Oliver is not impressed by the efforts of his shipmates and does not “approve of it; think it will amount to shucks.”

Many of the soldiers become seasick during the journey and the ship finally reaches Fortress Monroe on January 13, 1862. He describes the scene in the harbor as “one forest of masts” and welcomes the opportunity “to send and receive letters now…” Oliver has formed friendships with the other soldiers and is ”now acquainted with nearly all on board and enjoy it very much, perhaps more than with our own company.” On the day of their arrival at Fortress Monroe, the soldiers are treated to some fun “seeing the Dr. shoot at ducks with his revolver.”

 

 

Oliver Case Bible Collage

Thanks again to John Banks for putting together this collage of photos of Oliver’s Bible. For more info on the inscriptions, see this post.

 

A visit to Oliver’s grave

Thanks to John Banks over at his Civil War Blog for sharing the experience and some great photos from his visit today to Oliver’s grave in Simsbury. John has an outstanding informative blog that I’ve enjoyed for awhile now. I look forward to sharing more on the 8th CVI with him.

“…the most sorrowful time that I ever witnessed.”

The new year of 1862 did not start well for Oliver Case. He was stuck aboard the schooner “Recruit” in Annapolis Harbor being used as a hospital ship for soldiers in Burnside’s expeditionary force awaiting their orders to sail for the coast of North Carolina. He continued to suffer episodes of ague, a condition involving fever, chills, and what he termed as “shakes.” Oliver’s condition had passed by the time he writes a letter to Abbie on the 7th of January 1862 and he is acting as a medical orderly assisting the physicians in various ways plus pulling guard duty.

However, this letter is the most heartbreaking of any of the letters of Oliver Cromwell Case that I have read. Oliver and his shipmates are only hours from sailing for their first combat experience against the Confederates in North Carolina, but the young soldier must express the deep grief to his sister. As he writes his sister, Oliver is in a time of immense misery having just experienced what he calls “the most sorrowful time that I ever witnessed.” In the period of just a few days during the first week of the new year, Oliver has lost two of his friends in the regiment. As mentioned in earlier letters, both Duane Brown and Henry D. Sexton have been ill with trips to the hospital while still in the training camp at Annapolis. It seems Brown was suffering with “measles and the Typhus Fever” while Sexton had what Oliver called “jaundice.” Henry Sexton had succumbed to the condition at noon on the day Oliver wrote to his sister and Duane Brown appears to have died just a few days before at a hospital ashore and was buried the day before Sexton’s death.

I will quote large portions of his letter beginning at this point because I think Oliver describes the experience so well.

Sexton was a little worse Sunday, but not so bad, that he was around. He said that if he were at home he should be sitting in the rocking chair writing but as there was no place to sit down he kept his bunk. I prevailed upon the Dr. to have his bunk changed to a more comfortable one Sunday night and Monday morning I talked with him. I thought that his mind wandered a little. I left him about two. In the morning he was not conscious and repaired nearly all day in the stupid state.

From this point, Sexton’s condition takes a horrible turn for the worst.

About three he had a spasm and rushed out of his bunk. I had no control of him as he could handle me like a child…It was very difficult to get anyone to take hold of him as they seemed to be afraid of him. It took five of us to hold him and keep him from tearing his face with his hands. He would bite at us and froth to the mouth, making a horrid noise all of the time. I stayed over him twenty four hours in succession before his death. I never saw anything so horrible in my life and if it had not been for the sailors I do not know what I should have done.

Oliver is very dissatisfied with the medical care his friend received while on the ship and does not mince words.

He never has had any care upon the boat from the Dr…He used to come around in the morning and ask him how he did – tell him to cover up and keep warm – perhaps give him a pill. He had only his own blanket and lay down upon the lower deck where it was very cold, damp, and close and where it was an impossibility to keep warm. I used to give him my blanket when I was on guard and when he could not get warm got into the berth with him. I tried all I could to have the Dr. convey him to the hospital Sunday when I began to see that he was getting worse. He also begged him to be carried there and he finally promised that he might go the next day, but the next day was too late. With even ordinary care he might have got well in a short time.

Oliver does not want for his sister to share this experience with “anyone whatever” because he “never felt so bad in my life as when I saw that here was no hopes of his recovery.” Then comes the heartbreaking portion of the letter that shows the devastation of Oliver’s loss. He tells Abbie that “It seemed as though I had lost the only friend I had with me.”

In Oliver’s moment of deepest grief, we gain a glimpse of the source of sustainment for him and the reason to hope for his friend Henry.

But thanks be to God what is our loss is his gain. He was prepared for the final change. Only the day before he was taken unconscious he remarked that there was only one thing that supported him during his illness at the hospital, and now when he got low-spirited, “The religion of Jesus Christ was his sustainer.”

Oliver then turns to the death of Duane Brown but uses only one paragraph in his description as he was obviously not a witness to his passing.

Duane went to the hospital Sunday with the measles and the Typhus Fever set it, and carried him off. He had the best of care at the hospital, as good or better than he could have had at home. Everyone that has been there speaks of the excellent care, accommodations, food etc. that they get there.

Oliver gives a Abbie a brief report on his duties aboard the ship but quickly returns to conclude by relaying the aftermath of his friend Henry’s death.

I got another man to write to Sexton’s wife for I could not do it at the time. I telegraphed this morning…We put all of Henry’s things in a box and sent by express. They would not let me help pay the expenses because they said that I had done my part by being with him all the time.

Almost anticipating the concerns of his sister, Oliver closes this sad story with another comforting note.

Sexton died easy but unconscious.

Private Waston Carr, 27th Mass Inf

In his letter dated 30 December 1861 written from on board the hospital ship Recruit, Oliver Case mentions another soldier on the ship by the name of Waston Carr who has had camp fever and the measles.

Here is the information on that soldier:

Pvt. Waston Carr

Co. D, 27^th Massachusetts Infantry

Listed as an 18-year old “student” from Huntington, Massachusetts

Died 7 Oct 1864 in Arlington, Va

 

An Unloved Solider during the Holidays

There is a principle concerning soldiers that holds true throughout the history of warfare. Namely this that all soldiers wanted to feel loved by someone back home normally expressed by some form of communication. I’ve personally witnessed the biggest, rough and tough soldier come to the point of tears because he failed to receive some form of communication from his family back home.

One hundred and fifty years ago, that form of communication was a letter from home. In the Civil War, next to eating a hot meal, receiving a letter from home could raise morale faster than any other action a commander might take on behalf of his troops. Commanders soon discovered that it was much easier to motivate the troops on road marches and in battles if they ensured that the mail deliveries occurred at every possible opportunity.

In his letter of December 16, 1861, Oliver Case writes of a sad situation with one his friends and fellow soldiers in the 8th CVI. Duwaine Brown (spelled Duane in Oliver’s letters) of Ganby, Connecticut enlisted as a private in Company A, 8^th CVI on October 10, 1861. Oliver relates to Abbie that his friend has not received a letter from home in a very long time and that Duane “feels quite down spirited.” The daily mail call is torturous for the young soldier as “he watches the letters as they are distributed each day and as some, not all of us, receive some almost everyday and he does not, it makes him feel as if he was forgotten.” Oliver’s level of concern about this situation is such that he requests Abbie to “remind” his family to write to him.

Sadly, the story of Private Duwaine Brown does not have a happy ending as he will die of disease on January 5, 1862 at Annapolis, Maryland. The rest of that story to follow in a later post.

One of the organizations that helps all of our Service Members to feel loved is Soldiers’ Angels. Visit them if you would like to give a Soldier something that Private Duwaine Brown didn’t have one hundred and fifty years ago.

Thanksgiving, 150 Years Ago

On Thursday, November 21, 1861 from his quarters near Camp Burnside in Annapolis, Maryland, Oliver Case composed one of his longest letters to his sister Abbie. In accordance with the tradition of the time, this day, the last Thursday in November, was observed as Thanksgiving. However, Oliver makes no direct reference to the significance of the day. This could well be attributed to his longing for the people and the places of home in Simsbury. In the depth of his letter, it is easy to detect this desire for home and the conversation with his sister.

The letter covers a wide variety of subjects starting with Oliver’s earnest concern for a lack of correspondence from his sister, a common theme in many of his letters. He states his purpose in writing this letter is to “induce” in Abbie a desire to “write in reply.” Oliver mentions that he has recently received letters from both of his brothers and he has shared some important news with Ariel that two of his friends, Duane Brown and H.D. Sexton, are sick in the camp hospital. He also shares his visits with them in the hospital and offers his opinion that both should soon recover and return to the normal life of a soldier.

Oliver moves from the news of family friends to a description of his daily duties and the happenings of the camp. His work as part of the provost patrol for the city of Annapolis requires an eight-hour tour of duty moving about the city plus additional time for maintaining his equipment. Oliver seems to have a specific concern about certain camp rumors making their way back to Abbie writing that “you hear such exaggerated accounts and reports about everything that happens here.” The exact nature of the particular rumors is unclear, but he goes on in the letter to describe the arrival of new units in the camp and departure of other units bound for Fortress Monroe on the Virginia coast.

Among the other happenings the young Private Case describes are the adventures of his patrols. Although he proclaims this duty to be mostly quiet, during his eight-hour patrol, Oliver estimates that they arrest “four or five daily and those are mostly sober.” However, alcohol is a problem for some of the soldiers as Oliver’s patrol has “spilled several casks of liquor to say nothing of jugs, demijohns, and bottles, which we have thrown out.”  

Oliver also mentions the visit to his camp of a Major Hathaway who by implication seems to be from Connecticut and possibly a recruiter or representative of the Governor. Whatever his position, Major Hathaway is familiar with the Case family as he tells Oliver “that our people were well…” In the only reference to Thanksgiving in the letter, Major Hathaway shares with Oliver “that he was going to be at L.G. Goodrich’s for Thanksgiving.” Hathaway also promises to return to the camp for another visit if the 8^th CVI is still there in about two weeks. He also makes mention of a person named “Lucius” that he might bring along for his next visit.

In his typical fashion, Oliver switches for the next two sentences into his appreciation for a set of gloves provided by Ariel and Abbie apparently financed by his father. Just as quickly, he moves back into the camp news and rumors telling Abbie that there is great uncertainty as to the future plans for the 8^th. Oliver also points out that the 51^st New York Infantry is “the hardest set of boys that encamp here…not excepting the zouaves.” Oliver’s description seems wholly consistent with the popular image of the New Yorkers. The 51^st will later play a key role in the capture of Burnside Bridge during the battle of Antietam after being promised the return of their whiskey ration by their brigade commander.

Oliver then spends a few lines on the chaplain of the 8^th CVI, Joseph J. Woolley of Norwalk, Connecticut, and his most recent sermon entitled “What is truth” from John 18:38. According to Oliver’s assessment, Chaplain Woolley is “a very talented man” who is “liked very much by” all the soldiers.

He begins the next long paragraph with a description of the relationship between the citizens of Annapolis and the soldier which seems to have warmed after a rocky start. The soldiers are being given all types of food treats from the locals including “shortcakes, gingersnaps, cookies” and “other little knickknacks.” Oliver also writes of his hope to be paid by the following week and asks for clarification on the news of Simsbury’s Joseph R. Toy going into camp with his regiment. He asks Abbie for the news of the harvest on the farm in a tone that implies his desire to be part of that life again. Oliver provides his prediction of the length of the war in response to those who believe it will end within six months.

In the final and shortest paragraph of the letter, Oliver inquires as to the health of his grandmother and laments as to his lack of stamps and writing material which he hopes to replenish upon being paid. The letter comes to close as he is interrupted by his efforts “to get some Ginger snaps that a negro woman is giving to the boys.” His Thanksgiving is now as good as it can get because he pronounces the cookies as “excellent.”

And that’s the Thanksgiving of a young soldier away from home preparing for war 150 years ago.

Making a Fuss

 

Yesterday was a wonderful time to reflect on the contribution of  the great host of men and women who have served our Nation as members of the Armed Forces in dozens of wars and conflicts throughout our history. As a 24-year Soldier and veteran of two of those wars, I’m humbled to hear the comments of average Americans who are truly thankful for the sacrifice of veterans. Many of them stop me to say thank you. Others have anonymously paid for the meals enjoyed by me and my fellow Soldiers. I try to always express to these citizens my appreciation for their support without which we could not do our job.

 

Part of my objective in telling the story of Oliver Cromwell Case is that he would not be forgotten. Oliver is no different than scores of other veterans, living and dead, who have a story relegated to the dust bin of history without someone to tell it. The Wounded Warrior Project (a great organization that takes care of wounded veterans and their families with your support) has a motto…the greatest casualty is being forgotten. I am resolved that Private Oliver Cromwell Case, Company A, 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry, killed in action at the battle of Antietam on September 17, 1862 will not be forgotten. His story will live and he will be honored for paying the full and final price for our freedom.

 

The great American poet and Civil War volunteer nurse, Walt Whitman, once wrote to the parents of a dying Soldier to whom he was attending…

 

 

“He is one of the thousands of our unknown American young men in the ranks about whom there is no record or fame, no fuss made about their dying so unknown, but I find in them the real precious & royal ones of this land giving themselves up, aye even their young & precious lives, in their country’s cause.”

 

I hope to always continue to make a fuss about the living and dying of Oliver. Thank you again, Private Case!

Walking in Oliver’s Steps

It seems that anyone who is interested may soon be able to follow the final attack trail at Antietam to the 9th NY and 8th CVI monuments via a trail extension being funded and constructed by the Save Historic Antietam Foundation (SHAF). The new trail extension will also allow access to the Rodman mortuary cannon. Previously, access to the monuments was only available via a path from the Harper’s Ferry Road with the only parking along the roadway. It was impossible to make the complete final attack walk. As I understand the route of this new trail, it will follow the left flank of Harrison’s Brigade or the right flank of the 8th CVI. Although it may not match Oliver’s exact route of march on the day of the battle, it will be good to “walk in his steps” to the place where a Confederate bullet ended his young life on September 17, 1862. Thanks to the many volunteers of SHAF for their great work!

Read more in the SHAF newsletter.