Death Comes Calling

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?[1]

The American Civil War connected death and dying to the country’s citizens like no other war before or since with an average of 600 men dying in the conflict every day. That’s more Americans killed than were killed on September 11, 2001 per week for four years. Two percent of the entire population of the United States (31 million in 1860) were killed, died of wounds or died of other non-combat causes during the war. Everyone, north and south, was touched by the death of a soldier or sailor either directly or indirectly.

Marching over the rolling hills south of Sharpsburg and into the jaws of battle, Oliver Case fully understood that he faced his own morality…

There is not the dread of Death here as there; but I expect like everyone else to come out alive. I have yet to see the man that did not. It is much the best way on the men to go into action with high hopes and good spirits instead of feeling low and depressed.[2]

Oliver had witnessed the sting of death first-hand. He had seen his friends and fellow soldiers killed in battle. He stood with them as they fought horrible disease to the point of death. Death was familiar to Oliver, but not his friend. It was the encounter he wanted to avoid, but knew that, sooner or later, death would come calling. That was part of life especially the life of a Civil War soldier.

For himself, Oliver resolved that he would not run in the face of his own death because a far worse fate would await him. As a witness to the dishonorable behavior of others as death began to stalk them, he wanted no part of such conduct. As he had done before on the coast of North Carolina, he would not falter. Oliver would rather rely on the mercy of a sovereign God that the judgments of a pitiless people who would surely sentence him to a lifetime of shame for cowardly bearing before the enemy. In his letters to his sister and brothers, Oliver had drawn a clear line from which he could not retreat.

Make no mistake, fear always hovered about him. Like the fever Oliver had struggled against for so many of the past months, fear would always return, unwelcomed, but inescapable.  Oliver must have realized that if fear was an inevitable visitor, then he must overcome it. It was analogous to leaping into the swiftly flowing Farmington River back in Connecticut and trying to fight upstream against the current. No, he had to ride the current of fear to the destination of his choosing. Strength came from those men on his left and right – those he could trust with his life. The ultimate power to overcome the fear of death was a gracious gift of the Creator and Sustainer who made the river of this present life flow to the sea of life hereafter.

But thanks be to God what is our loss is his gain.[3]

The hopes and spirits of Private Case and the other soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut would be harshly tested in the fields outside of Sharpsburg on that late afternoon in September 1862…[4]

 Just one more push over that next rolling hill and then, the Harper’s Ferry Road and the town of Sharpsburg. I can see the two cannons of the enemy guarding the road at the top of that final hill. At least, I can see the business end of the guns as they begin to spew the deadly canister into our ranks.  Artillery incoming! No, ours…over our heads. Hitting all around the rebel cannons. There’s Captain Upham and his company within 20 feet of the guns. The smoke is clearing; rebels have abandoned the battery. Maybe we have a chance…we can win a great victory.

Beyond those brave Confederate gunners, officers in gray are shouting at disoriented troops milling around to rally and stand their ground. The reorganizing rebels in front are now firing into our ranks or above our ranks. This swale is protecting us from their Minnie balls. I see the Zouves to our right…many firing but many falling. Now they are beginning to fall back down the slope. Lieutenant Colonel Appelman orders the regiment forward followed by the echoes of the captains. The boys are rising up all around me. Now I know how Philo Matson felt at Newbern. God forgive me for my ridicule of Philo because I want to make myself missing from this field. Orton, Martin, Lucius…I must go with them. I will not leave them. I cannot disgrace my family. This may be the end, but I will not be branded a coward. God give me courage to face the enemy and, if needs be, my own death!

               

The field where the 8^th Connecticut made their desperate stand just short of the Harpers Ferry Road

 

I haven’t seen the other Connecticut boys in the 16^th since they stepped off into that big cornfield. Lots of firing coming from that direction. I can’t look back…Colonel Harland is urging us forward from atop his horse. What a fine officer. More firing and a rebel yell rising from that cornfield. God protect my brothers.

It seems like we’ve barely started to move when Appelman falls to our front. Four men (I don’t know them) are bearing him rearward. There stands Chaplain Morris loading a rifle as the cartridge box dangles from his neck. Our position is desperate. The Major screams above the din for the regiment to lie down again. I must reload, aim, and fire. May be ten rounds left in my box. What’s that on our left beyond the enemy battery now abandoned by Captain Upham and his men? Soldiers in blue? But, wait…a flag. The colors are red, white and blue, but not the national colors. I know that flag. I remember from Roanoke Island. It’s a North Carolina regiment and another forming into double file. God help us, we are done for.

The bullets are hitting our ranks thick as flies now from our front and the left. Thud…Orton is hit on my right and crumbles to the ground. I’m kneeling and reloading but Lucius stands to fire in front of me…he shouldn’t. Too late, he’s shot twice in the chest and spins around falling at my feet. No turning back…I stand, aim at the rebel color bearer, squeeze the trigger…darkness, silence…

Oliver Case had finally met death, but on his terms.

I went with my Brother to the Eighth Regiment to learn the fate of my younger Brother Oliver and found only eight or 10 of his company left from about 40 they had in the morning. Was told by a comrade that stood beside him that he fell and he called him by name but no reply. Said he was no doubt killed. The next morning we were marched down near the bridge and lay there all day. No one was allowed on the field as it was held by sharpshooters on both sides. The next day September 19 myself and brother had permission to go over the field and look for our brothers body being very sure he was dead we each took our canteens filled with water and commenced that awful sickening tramp and if I could picture to you the sad sites that we beheld. The ground for acres and miles in length were strewn with dead and wounded. The wounded crying for water they having lain there the whole day before and two nights — but everyone was looking for some comrade of their own Regiment but some time that afternoon we found the body of our brother we were looking after. He was no doubt killed instantly the bullet having passed through his head just about the top of his ears. We wrapped him in my blanket and carried him to the spot where the 16th dead were to be buried having first got permission from the Colonel of the Eighth and the 16th to do so. The 16th men were buried side by side in a trench and they dug a grave about 6 [feet] from them and we deposited the remains of my brother and that having first pinned a paper with his name and age on the inside of the blanket. Then they put up boards to teach with name and Regiment on them. His body lay there until December when father went there and brought the body to Simsbury where it now lies to mingle with the sole of his native town.[5]

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[1] King James Bible, 1 Corinthians Chapter 15, verse 55

[2] The Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case (Unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, Connecticut. While his was written regarding the coming battle(s) in North Carolina, the witnesses to his conduct on September 17, 1862 indicate that he continued to face the enemy and perform his duty as a soldier.

[3] IBID. In his letter of January 7, 1862, Oliver wrote these words in describing the death of his friend, Henry D. Sexton aboard a hospital ship in Annapolis harbor.

[4] The following is a fictionalized account from the perspective of Private Oliver Cromwell Case using actual sources that describe this segment of the battle of Antietam and Oliver’s letters written October 1861 to August 1862.

[5] “Recollections of Camp and Prison Life” by Alonzo Grove Case (unpublished), Company E, 16^th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers (from the collection of The Simsbury Historical Society).

Service to the soldiers in the Civil War and the USO connection

Most folks are familiar with the work of the USO or United Service Organizations. No, I didn’t misspell the name. The organization that provides such wonderful support to our service members today in dozens of locations around the world began its work just prior to World War in 1941 as an attempt to mobilize the efforts of groups providing the “emotional support” needed by the troops. The Salvation Army, Young Men’s Christian Association, Young Women’s Christian Association, National Catholic Community Services, National Travelers Aid Association and the National Jewish Welfare Board joined together to form the United Service Organizations known today simply as the USO. The USO mission quickly expanded to create “new programs and services to meet the ever-changing needs of the troops and their families, while holding fast to the original mission.” The USO’s work continues today “to lift the spirits of America’s troops and their families, and will continue to be there for them until every one comes home.” [1]

The colors of the United Service Organizations (USO)

So, how is this related to Oliver Case and the 8^th Connecticut? Glad you asked…

A little passage from Oliver’s letter of November 3, 1861 triggered me to dig a bit deeper into the story of his one and only visit to the city of brotherly love:

We were got upon the cars with but little delay and tried to start for Philadelphia which was not so easy a job as you might imagine as we had on 19 passenger cars, but with the help of another engine we got under way and arrived safely at ½ after eleven o’clock where we had a huge dinner and if anyone ever did justice to a dinner, we did to that. I think I never tasted anything so good in my life. We stayed there until nearly five talking and shaking hands with everyone.

On November 2, 1861 from 11:30 in the morning until 5 o’clock in the afternoon, Private Oliver Cromwell Case and his fellow soldiers were hosted by the citizens of Philadelphia. My twenty-five years of service as an Army officer has taught me well that Soldiers with free time in a major population center can spell trouble if not properly occupied and supervised. Chief among the activities of these Soldiers is always the pursuit of food. In fact, when serving as a young lieutenant in the 3^rd Armored Cavalry Regiment, I was told that one of the rules of the Cavalry Trooper was “never pass up the opportunity for a meal because you never know when you might eat next.” So it was with the nutmeggers on that November day. When Oliver writes that “we had a huge dinner” after arriving in Philadelphia, it’s likely that he had no idea that the keen observations of one of the city’s businessmen and the efforts of a group of ladies was to thank for that meal.

Only six months prior to the arrival of the 8^th Connecticut, the citizens of the Philadelphia took action to support the growing number of troops transiting the city. During the closing week of April and the first week of May, Union regiments from the New England states began arriving by both ship and train. Most of these troops proceed along Washington Avenue to board trains bound for Perryville, Maryland, the southernmost location in Maryland accessible by railroad. After noticing the hundreds of soldiers sitting along the streets of the city waiting for their trains, a group of women in the city “formed themselves into a committee, and, with the assistance of their friends and neighbors, distributed coffee and refreshments among the hungry and grateful troops.”[2] These modest efforts to provide refreshments continued for several weeks until the last week of May 1861 when a Philadelphia businessman became involved.

William M. Cooper was a merchant with a store located on Otsego Street just off Washington Avenue when he also noticed the large number of soldiers lounging on the streets of Philadelphia. He managed to convince his partner, Henry Pearce, that their barrel making business could be used to advance the mission to the soldiers started by the ladies of the city. As a result, on May 26, 1861, the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon opened its doors to serve the Union soldiers passing through the city. Mr. Cooper took the lead role in the effort and served as the committee’s president and chief fundraiser for the duration of the war. A friendly rival, the Union Volunteer Refreshment Saloon, began operating nearby shortly after the establishment of Cooper’s saloon.

The two refreshment saloons provided a welcomed relief for the weary soldiers. As the ladies had first realized, a soldier’s first longing after the long boat or train ride was a cup of hot coffee and so Mr. Cooper converted the large fireplace in his shop into an enormous stove. With this setup, it was possible for the volunteers to brew one hundred gallons of coffee per hour! According to a history of the saloon written immediately following the war, the “coffee was made good and strong, and served up in a purely democratic manner.”[3] I would assume this means that it was one cup for each man.

Exterior view of the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon (Library of Congress)

According to the records of the saloon, the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut were divided equally between the Union and Cooper saloons. Oliver does not indicate in which establishment he partook of the “huge dinner” but when he entered the building, he found:

…each table was laid with a clean white linen cloth, on which were arranged plates of white stone china, mugs of the same, knives and forks, castors, and all that was necessary to table use. Bouquets of flowers, the gifts of visitors, were frequently added, and lent their fragrance to the savory odors. The bill of fare consisted of the best the market could supply, and was not, in the articles provided, inferior to that of any hotel in the country. At all meals the fare was abundant; consisting of ham, corned beef, Bologna sausage, bread made of the finest wheat, butter of the best quality, cheese, pepper-sauce beets, pickles, dried beef, coffee and tea, and vegetables. [4]

 

Interior view of the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon (Library of Congress)

The Cooper and Union saloons provided an incredible setting for the soldiers to enjoy their meal. One Union Army surgeon provided a detailed description his experience at the Cooper saloon:

We are stopping over Sabbath in Philadelphia, at the above named saloon, where we have been treated with the kindest hospitality. We were met at the ferry by one of the committees, who conducted us to the saloon, where we found tables groaning beneath the real substantials of life. The hall is 150 feet long, by 30 wide, and will accommodate about 350 persons at a time. It is splendidly decorated with wreaths of evergreens, and a great variety of paintings and flags, and is well lighted with gas. At the further end of the hall is a large eagle, stuffed and perched upon a frame enclosing the Declaration of Independence. We were supplied with every thing we could possibly wish.^[5]

In September of 1990, I found myself in much the same position as Oliver and the Connecticut boys…waiting around for transportation on my way to war. The USO with many volunteers had established a “saloon” at Rhein-Main Air Base in Frankfurt, Germany providing food, entertainment and, yes, coffee for soldiers deploying to Saudi Arabia in support of Operation Desert Shield. The facility was operated in a German “feast tent” just off the tarmac of the airbase. I don’t believe we enjoyed the same meal as Oliver, but the food was fantastic and represented the last taste of home for many months. Upon return to the United States after the conflict in 1991, we found the same reception waiting for us in both New York and our home base in El Paso, Texas. Today, a USO reception center is found in every major airport in the country and at United States military airbases around the world providing that same warm welcome and food (among many other services) that greeted Oliver Case and the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut in Philadelphia over 150 years ago.

The facility at Cooper expanded to include a hospital on the second floor of the building and both saloons hosted upwards of one million troops during the four years of the war. Mr. Cooper poured his heart, soul and finances into the venture. Sadly, in March of 1880, he died in a condition of debt so abysmal that friends and former soldiers assisted by the Cooper saloon had to come to his rescue to prevent his home from being sold at public auction. William Cooper was fondly remembered as the man who “used his private mean liberally, and no soldier was ever turned away hungry.”[6]

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NOTE

In addition to the History of the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon by James Moore written in 1866, the following sites provided useful background information on this subject:

The House Divided site of Dickinson College Essay on Philadelphia

Civil War Philadelphia – Volunteer Refreshment Saloons

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[1] History of the USO from the USO website, http://www.uso.org/history.aspx

[2] History of the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon, James Moore, James B. Rodgers, Philadelphia, 1866.

[3] (Moore, 1866)

[4] (Moore, 1866)

[5] (Moore, 1866)

[6] “A Patriot’s Family in Distress,” New York Times, March 18, 1880.

The End of a Very Pleasant Trip Down the Chesapeake

So, it was indeed a “very pleasant trip down the Chesapeake” for Oliver and the other 999 boys from Connecticut for two days during the first full week of November 1861. The Nutmeggers were again of cheerful hearts when their steamer tied up to the pier in Annapolis, Maryland on Tuesday evening, November 5^th.  As Private Oliver Case and the 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment disembarked at Annapolis on November 5^, 1861, they found a city pulled between southern loyalty and northern military force much like their previous transit point in Perryville. This time, they would be more permanent residents. As Maryland and its governor were struggling with the decision against secession only eight months before, the first Union soldiers, in the form of the 7^th New York Infantry, arrived in the capital city.

At 4 o’clock P.M. of Monday, April 22, the Seventh Regiment first landed in a hostile State on a military errand, and was disembarked at the dock of the Naval School at Annapolis. The men marched ashore by companies in good order, and formed in regimental line on the beautiful parade-ground in the rear of the Naval-school buildings.[i]

Now the arrival of Burnside’s expeditionary force in the capital city became a continued guarantee of Maryland’s place in the Union. As they had when Union forces first landed in Annapolis earlier in the year, the citizens of the city watched the soldiers arrive by the thousands as both an occupying force and to train the green regiments for future operations deeper in Confederate territory. The most recent occupation of the city by Union troops under the command of Brigadier General Thomas W. Sherman had been designed to equip and train an expeditionary force comprised of three brigades of 13,000 troops. The objective of this new expeditionary unit was to capture one of the important port cities along the lower South Carolina coast in order to give the Union Navy a base of operations for blockading operations. Only days before the arrival of the first units of Burnside’s expeditionary force, Sherman’s brigades had departed Annapolis with a combined naval force under the command of Flag Officer Samuel F. du Pont. On November 7, 1861 just two days after the 8^th Connecticut arrived at Annapolis, the Sherman/du Pont expeditionary force attacked and captured both Fort Walker and Fort Beauregard gaining control of Port Royal Sound, South Carolina.

 

General Thomas Sherman and Flag Officer Samuel du Pont confer on the Great Naval Expedition, November 1861

The “Great Naval Expedition” as it was often referred to in contemporary accounts provided invaluable lessons for Burnside’s expedition that would follow just two months later.[ii] Thomas Sherman and his staff conducted detailed planning with the naval staff of Samuel du Pont ensuring a well-coordinated joint operation between the two services. Logistical challenges associated with moving 13,000 soldiers with their supporting equipment and horses over hundreds of miles of storming seas were addressed and overcome. Most importantly, the tactics and techniques required to successfully employ this joint Army-Navy force against Confederate shore fortifications were developed through a process of trial and error during the Battle of Port Royal. All of these lessons would provide Ambrose Burnside a head start when planning and executing his expeditionary operations against the North Carolina coast in January of 1862.

As General Sherman and his troops were wading ashore in Port Royal, South Carolina, the city of Annapolis was again preparing for occupation by soldiers dressed in Union blue. In April of 1861, Governor Hicks had expressed concerns that the southern sympathies of eastern Maryland combined with the displeasure of the citizens at the military occupation of the city would have a detrimental effect of his efforts to have the state remain in the Union. Hicks’ leadership in keeping Maryland in the Union had not found approval by most of the residents on the east side of the state. By November, Hicks’ concerns remained regard the disposition of the citizens of Annapolis, but the earlier occupation by Sherman’s regiments had gone without major incident. Now, Burnside’s crop of fresh Yankees including Oliver Case would find themselves on the front line of the efforts to improve relations between the citizens of Annapolis and their Union occupiers.

During their first two nights in Annapolis, Oliver and the other soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut were billeted on the campus of St. John’s College. The college was originally founded in 1696 as King William’s School only two years after Annapolis was designated as the capital city for the colony of Maryland. The institute was established as a preparatory school, but when it received its charter in 1784 it included a name change to St. John’s College. The college was notable and unique for its time because it espoused a policy of religious tolerance where “youth of all religious denominations shall be freely and liberally admitted” with a focus on rigorous academic pursuits. With the onset of the Civil War, many students departed the school prior to their maturation in order to join either the Union and Confederate armies reflecting the divided loyalties of the host city and state. With most of students gone, the Union army, which had begun to arrive to secure the strategically important city, soon occupied the grounds. College officials watched helplessly as the army established a firm presence in many of the building on campus. By November 1861, the great number of troops landing in Annapolis requiring housing arrangements forced the establishment of large tent cities on the grounds of St. John’s.

When the troops of the 8^th Connecticut arrived on the night of November 5, 1861, they were given quarter in the buildings across the St. John’s campus as a temporary housing arrangement until the tent city was operational. Oliver wrote to his sister that “we were quartered in a college where we stayed two nights and one day.”[iii] The campus was comprised of several building that would have been available to house the soldiers of the regiment. McDowell Hall, opened in 1742, was originally built by the Maryland Governor Thomas Bladen to be used as a residence for the state’s executive. However, after the Revolutionary War in 1784, the state gave the yet unfinished building to the newly chartered St. John’s College. The school completed the building including the addition of a bell tower, still in use today, along with a third floor. Although the building was significantly damaged by fire in 1909, it was reconstructed to its original specifications. It was named for the first principal of King William’s School, John McDowell.

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[i] (Our War Pictures, 1861)

[ii] (The Great Naval Expedition, 1861)

[iii] (Case)

A Few Hours in Perryville, Maryland

However, the brief layover in the key transportation hub of Perryville gave the soldiers of the regiment an opportunity to stretch their legs and, as in Oliver’s case, write letters to family and friends. In the first year of the Civil War, Perryville, Maryland was a divided town in a divided state with over 800 slaves in Cecil County and a definitely strong contingent of Confederate sympathizers. The tensions in the eastern portion of Maryland rose considerably after Confederate supporters attacked Union soldiers as they passed through Baltimore on April 19, 1861. Railroads were destroyed and bridges were burned crippling ground transportation to areas south of the city. As a result of this incident and the increased concerns of the federal government, Perryville became a major staging and transportation nucleus for Union material and soldiers moving to Annapolis and other points south. In fact, the city was the southern terminus for the Union-controlled rail transportation network. Upon reaching Perryville, supplies and troops were transferred from rail to water transportation. By the time Oliver Case and the troops of the 8^th Connecticut reached the city just before midnight on November 2, 1861, the transportation cross-docking system had become firmly established.

In November of 1861, Maryland was far from being firmly in the control of the Union. It had been a stormy eight months for the border state with Governor Thomas Holliday Hicks attempted to steer the state through the political minefield of a state with divided loyalty. Thomas Hicks was sworn in as governor of Maryland on January 13, 1858 having been elected the previous fall as the nominee of the Know Nothing Party which was also known as the Native American Party for its espousal of an anti-immigrant and anti-Catholic positions. As the oldest of thirteen children, Hicks had been born on a farm in Dorchester County Maryland in 1798 and had been involved in political endeavors since the age of 21. He assumed the post of governor, at the time the oldest man to do so, on the eve of the greatest crisis in the history of the state. As early as November of 1860, many prominent Maryland political figures including a former governor, urged Hicks to call a special session of the state legislators to consider the course to be taken by the state in view of the election of Abraham Lincoln as president. The governor rebuffed these attempts and counseled patience to determine the path the Lincoln would follow regarding slavery in general and the Fugitive Slave Law in particular. Hicks had essentially adopted a policy of neutrality for state even as the other southern states began to leave the Union and pressure began to mount for Hicks to take some action.

         

Thomas Holliday Hicks (1798-1865) Governor of Maryland, 1858-1862

It became clear that Hicks was, at best, a politician who attempted to play both sides of the issues deeply dividing the northern and southern states at the beginning of the war. He addressed the citizens of his state in January of 1861:

I firmly believe that a division of this Government would inevitably produce civil war. The secession leaders in South Carolina, and the fanatical demagogues of the North, have alike proclaimed that such would be the result, and no man of sense, in my opinion, can question it.^[i]

His attempts to portray Maryland as a sort of neutral state that would not become involved in the dispute could not withstand the calls to bring the legislature into session. Hicks found that this stance became completely untenable after President Lincoln called for volunteers from the northern states including Maryland in April of 1861. The governor also struggled to maintain his credibility with Lincoln after he appeared to side with Confederate supporters during the aftermath of the Baltimore riots which occurred in the same month. After the war, the Confederate historian and general, Bradley T. Johnson, explained the actions of the Maryland governor:

…for Governor Hicks was no fool. He was a shrewd, sharp, positive man. He knew what he wanted and he took efficient means to procure it. He wanted to save Maryland to the Northern States. He believed the Union was gone. In the Southern Confederacy, Maryland must, in his opinion, play a subordinate part and he, himself, fall back into the political obscurity from which he had been recently raised.^[ii]

Governor Hicks dealt the final blow to any chance for Maryland to side with the Confederate States during the same month as the Baltimore riots by moving the General Assembly from Annapolis to Frederick. With this action, he found redemption with the Lincoln administration by ensuring that Maryland would not vote for secession, therefore remaining in the Union. The federal government had already imprisoned many of the supporters of secession from the eastern part of the state. Always the clever politician, the governor claimed that he relocated the assembly to Frederick for “safety and comfort of the members.”^[iii] Maryland remained in the Union, but in the eastern side of the state, many southern sympathizers continued to live, work and even served as spies for the Confederate government in Richmond.

Due to the potential threat from Confederate loyalists and the need for operational security, the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut were kept “confined in and about the depot with a guard, some different from what we used to having, that is, much more strict.”^[iv] This came as a surprise to the Union soldiers who had been greeted so warmly both in New York and at Philadelphia. The Perryville depot and transportation hub was bustling with activity from Union units and equipment being positioned to support future operations in the south. During his short stay at Perryville, Oliver Case observed:

…a regiment encamped near here beside our camp containing 900 trunks [or troops] and 900 horses. This place is situated upon the NE bank of the Susquehannah, upon the Baltimore, Wilmington and Philadelphia RR about thirty miles from the former place. This is a steam ferry boat which carries over a whole train of cars at once so there is no change of cars at this place for the south.^[v]

While Oliver was “writing standing amid a great deal of noise” and the soldiers were waken from just a few hours of sleep in the depot in Perryville, the command to “fall in” was given signaling that it was time to board the transport ships for the trip down the Chesapeake. The Connecticut boys were “never…in better spirits than we are at present” and there was “great excitement and cries of ‘fall in’ [with] almost everyone…strapping on their knapsack.” The soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut had now been told that “Annapolis [was] suppose[d] to be our destination” and “[w]e expect to leave on the boat every minute.”^[vi] For the third time since they were mustered into federal service just over one month earlier, the soldiers of the regiment were herded into a crowded a vessel for a journey across a body of water. The weather was much better than the previous trip from Hunters Point to South Amboy two days earlier and Oliver describes this voyage as “a very pleasant trip down the Chesapeake.”^[vii]

While the passage may have seemed “pleasant” to Oliver and his comrades, the Chesapeake Bay was far from securely in Union control at this point in the war. In May of 1861, the United States Navy had created the Potomac Flotilla or Potomac Squadron to help root out Confederate gun boats and shore gun emplacements that threaten Union shipping along this vital waterway. Secured lines of communications along the Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac River were absolutely essential for Union commanders to carry out operations in Virginia and other points to the south. It was impossible to provide the logistical support required for Union armies to threaten the Confederate capital of Richmond without clear sailing on the bay. In November of 1861, Union Navy Commander Thomas Tingey Craven led a fleet of approximately six ships charged with the security of cargo and personnel moving up and down the bay. The Potomac Flotilla ensured that vessels like the one carrying the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut could make it safely to their destination along the Chesapeake Bay.

USS Yankee, a ship of the Potomac Flotilla in 1861

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[i] (Frank F. White, 1970)

[ii] (Johnson, 1994)

[iii] (Radcliffe, 1901)

[iv] (Case)

[v] (Case)

[vi] (Case)

[vii] (Case)

The Journey to Maryland Begins – November 1861

On the morning after a melodious gathering in Oliver’s tent on the 31^st of October 1861, daybreak for the first day of November brought reveille and the command to break camp for movement to a new home still mysterious to most of the Connecticut soldiers. After breakfast and the packing of personal gear and unit equipment, the regiment marched to the Jamaica train station and loaded onto rail cars to backtrack the journey across Long Island they had made just 14 days ago. At Hunter’s Point, the soldiers were forced to sit in a warehouse for several hours waiting for an unnamed steamer to arrive in order to ferry them to a point unknown in the south. The lounging soldiers were thankful for the shelter provided by the depot building as a hard rain had begun to pound New York City. According to Oliver Case, among the Connecticut boys awaiting the arrival of the ship was a Mrs. Thompson who was presumably the wife of fellow Company A soldier Charles Thompson of Fairfield, Connecticut. Since they arrived at the Camp of Instruction on Saturday, October 26, 1861, Mrs. Thompson and the wife of Lieutenant Wolcott Marsh had spent their days visiting their husbands in camp and, at least on one occasion, being escorted to tour Brooklyn by Lieutenant Marsh.^[i] After the departure of the regiment from Hunter’s Point, Mrs. Thompson returned to Connecticut, but Mrs. Marsh continued to follow her husband travelling south through an unknown route and conveyance reappearing in Oliver’s letters at the regiment’s camp in Annapolis.

With the deluge of rain continuing, the soldiers were finally marched out of the depot at 8 o’clock in the evening and loaded onto a steamer that had just arrived at the Hunter’s Point pier. The Connecticut boys soon realized that they would be traveling in extremely close quarters. Oliver writes that he and his comrades “were stowed into a steamer that was not large enough to accommodate more than half that number; every available niche of room was occupied, many of us lying with our heads upon each other.”^[ii] The one thousand troops of the 8^th Connecticut packed tightly into the ship were comforted only by the fact that this was scheduled to be a short trip of only about two hours. The hope for a quick journey to their next destination was shattered as soon as the steamer pushed away from Hunter’s Point. The storm that had produced the hard rain all afternoon and into the evening had since intensified and the captain of the vessel was unwilling to risk moving through open waters in the heavily burdened ship. The ship traversed the short distance down the East River rounding Manhattan before being “hauled up to Pier No. 1 N. River to wait for the storm to abate.”^[iii] For next four hours, the collective groans of the Connecticut boys were heard throughout the packed ship as men struggled to find some rest in the midst of their buddy’s elbows and the constant pitching of the boat. One hour after midnight, the ship’s bell rang out as the crew casted off from the lower Manhattan pier and the captain steered the vessel into the North River heading south toward New Jersey.

Passing Staten Island through most of the journey, the planned two-hour journey marked its eighth hour as the ship reached the piers at South Amboy, New Jersey. It was now 4 o’clock in the morning of November 2, 1861 and Oliver described the soldiers as “a jollier, happier, set you never saw” when they were finally able to dislodge themselves from the cramped vessel and prepare for the next phase of their excursion overland. There was no time to relax as the regiment continued the journey to the south.

We were got upon the cars with but little delay and tried to start for Philadelphia which was not so easy a job as you might imagine as we had on 19 passenger cars, but with the help of another engine we got under way…^[iv]

For the next seven hours, the passenger cars of the train offered a welcomed change from the confined craft of the previous eight hours. At 11:30 in the morning of November 2, 1861, the large train arrived at Philadelphia to a warm welcome from the city’s citizens. As in New York, the people of the city turned out in large numbers with heartfelt hospitality that the Connecticut soldiers received gladly.

 …we had a huge dinner and if anyone ever did justice to a dinner, we did to that. I think I never tasted anything so good in my life. We stayed there until nearly five talking and shaking hands with everyone.^[v]

Unfortunately, the cordiality would be short lived because Philadelphia was not the final destination of the regiment. Around 5 o’clock in the afternoon, the 8^th Connecticut reloaded the 27-car passenger and cargo train that strained to make about four miles per hour as it moved through the city. The soldiers scrambled to take advantage of the slow speed and stood “upon the platform, or with our arms out the window shaking hands and bidding every Goodbye.”^[vi] As the train left Philadelphia, the combined weight of the soldiers, equipment and horses began to cause delays for mechanical problems as car couplings broke at least eleven times. It would be almost midnight before the regiment reached the town of Perryville, Maryland where for the fourth time in just over 24 hours, a change in transportation mode was required before continuing the voyage south.

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[i] (Case)

[ii] (Case)

[iii] (Case)

[iv] (Case)

[v] (Case)

[vi] (Case)

The Physical Examination

One of the last major events to take place at the Camp of Instruction at Jamaica was the physical examinations of the soldiers of the Eighth Connecticut.  Oliver writes to Abbie that “the men are not troubled with clothes while undergoing this examination.”^[i] Civil War Surgeons faced a daunting challenge when attempting to weed out those recruits not fully medically fit for duty with the limited nature of the physical examinations in relation to modern physical examination standards. One former soldier, writing after the war, described the process:

The next step was a medical examination to determine physical fitness for service. Each town had its physician for this work. The candidate for admission into the army must first divest himself of all clothing, and his soundness or unsoundness was then decided by causing him to jump, bend over, kick, receive sundry thumps in the chest and back, and such other laying-on of hands as was thought necessary. The teeth had also to be examined, and the eyesight tested, after which, if the candidate passed, he received a certificate to that effect.^[ii]

This old soldier’s memory notwithstanding, during the early part of the war filling the ranks of the regiments was more important than the medical readiness of the recruits and physicians often turned a blind eye to many disqualifying conditions. Induction physical examinations used the pass rate as a measure of success ensuring that recruits with all their limbs, good teeth (for tearing rifle cartridges) and adequate sight/hearing would be retained for service. As one regimental surgeon put it, “Many of [the soldiers] ought never to have come out, having broken constitutions or bodily defects which entirely disqualify them for the life of a soldier.”^[iii] In fact, some of the examinations were so superficial that women were able to enlist pretending to be men.

NOTE: The National Museum of Civil War Medicine  has an excellent exhibit on physical examinations for recruits.

 

The excitement of the recruiting station often obscured the need for a thorough physical examination.

The purpose of these examinations for the Connecticut troops was unclear coming some five weeks after the organization and activation of the regiment. It may have been related to the fact that in August of 1861 the Army began to make an attempt to weed out many of the volunteers who were not physically qualified by requiring additional and more methodical examinations. This included follow up exams for those regiments already in service. Oliver’s emphasis on “this” when referring to the examination seems to indicate that a previous examination had occurred at some point in the past likely during the recruiting of the companies of the regiment. However, it is clear from his letter that the earlier examination did not include disrobing when standing before the physician. Also, the commander and/or the regimental surgeon may have had concerns about the physical condition of some of the soldiers. Whatever the situation driving the requirement for the new physical scrutiny of Oliver and his comrades, at least five soldiers from the Eighth Connecticut were discharged for being found to be physically unfit within a few days of this examination as indicated by the company rolls.

Some officers left on account of ill health ; a few were dismissed;”others,” wrote an officer, “strong men physically, found themselves entirely unfitted for the profession of arms, and bore the mortification of resigning that others might take their places.^[iv]

In the case of Private Case’s physical examination, he expressed a great deal of concern about the possibility of being dismissed from the regiment due to the lingering signs of some previous illness that he does not specify. He wrote to his sister, Abbie, that the doctor “questioned me pretty close about that breaking out on my shoulders – there is hardly anything left but the scars.” Obviously, Abbie was familiar with this illness because Oliver wrote that “if he had seen it two months ago [which places it prior to his enlistment while he was still living at home in Simsbury] I would have gotten thrown overboard…”^[v] It’s unclear from the information that Oliver provides in his surviving letters the exact cause of the “breaking out” on Oliver’s shoulders. Based on the common aliments of the time, several possibilities exist including something as simple as dermatitis or a more complex condition such as a past bout of chicken pox which would explain the presence of scarring during the exam.

Whatever the condition, the crisis of possible discharge was quickly overcome by Oliver explaining to the examining physician that the scars were “nothing but a little breaking out and had not been there a great while.”^[vi] This obviously satisfied the doctor and Oliver was allowed to continue his service in the 8^th CVI. In a tragic irony, this would be the first of several recorded instances of Oliver experiencing a close encounter with potential discharge from service.

 

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[i] (Case)

[ii] (Billings, 1887)

[iii] (Holt, 1994)

[iv] (Morris, 1869)

[v] (Case)

[vi] (Case)

Vice in the Camp and Rumors from Home

Vice in the Camp (Library of Congress)

 

Oftentimes Oliver Case’s companion in attending church services is his fellow soldier, Benejah Holcomb who was assigned to Company C of the regiment. In addition to being his fellow soldier, Holcomb is also Oliver’s distant cousin from Granby, Connecticut, a town only a short distance from Simsbury. Holcomb enlisted in the Eighth Connecticut on September 11, 1861 and was discharged for unknown reasons on January 1, 1863. He was a descendant of Lieutenant Benejah Holcomb, a Revolutionary War hero from Connecticut. It is impossible to be certain that Abbie and Oliver knew Benejah to be a cousin or had some other association with him as Oliver never refers to him as a cousin in any of his 34 letters. Throughout many of Oliver’s letters to Abbie, he is mentioned in an acquainted manner leaving the impression that Benejah Holcomb was well known to Abbie.

In spite of the efforts of the chaplains and organizations like the USCC, many of the troops did succumb to the temptations of negative moral influences. Alcohol abuse was chief among the culprits that lead some of the soldiers astray as a drunk soldier was often referred to as being “shot in the neck” or to have “a brick in his hat.” While at Long Island, one corporal in Company A of the Eighth found himself reduced to the junior enlisted ranks and given the forfeiture of one month’s pay as punishment for public intoxication. Based on a study of the company rolls, the offending corporal was most likely John F. Saundbaum of Hartford who would also find himself discharged from service for failing his physical examination with days of committing this offense.^[i]

Corporal Saundbaum’s example left an impression upon the soldiers like Private Case. The concentrated efforts of chaplains and commanders alike to improve morale and suppress undisciplined behavior were numerous and seemed to have had an impact upon the Connecticut soldiers.

The morale of the regiments was correspondingly raised. Gambling and liquor-selling were suppressed; offenders being severely punished, and their stakes and stock confiscated for the regimental fund. Profanity was rebuked. Unnecessary Sunday labor was avoided.^[ii]

Back in Simsbury, rumors made their way around town and back to the camp of the Eighth at Long Island. Oliver writes to his sister that he has heard a rumor on the camp grapevine that the prominent citizen, Joseph R. Toy of Simsbury is working to raise a new company of volunteers. The tone of Oliver’s letter makes it seem as if he had expected Toy to raise this company for some period of time or that he is sarcastically asking the question.

Joseph R. Toy, Jr. was born in 1836 in England and moved to Simsbury with his family when his father was sent to America by his boss William Bickford to help operate his safety fuse company. The business thrived under the elder Toy’s influence and Joseph, Sr. assumed a more prominent role in the company of which he soon became the principal operating officer and partner. The name of the firm was changed to Toy, Bickford and Company in 1852 to reflect Joseph, Sr.’s leadership position. Although his father desired for him to follow a career in medicine or law, Joseph Jr.’s ambition was to become an engineer and he eventually came to be employed by his father in the safety fuse factory.

On December 20, 1859, an explosion at the factory in Simsbury killed eight of the female workers who comprised the majority of the workforce. Joseph Toy, Jr., who was working in the factory’s machine shop, was severely injured in the blast and spent many months recuperating from burns. His wounds were so significant that he continued to suffer long-term effects for years to come. In spite of these injuries, Toy was elected to the state legislature of Connecticut in 1860 becoming the youngest member of the body at 24 years old. After the Civil War began, he began to recruit men from the Simsbury area to join a new regiment and, although still in poor health, Toy decided to join the company as well.^[iii]

Captain Joseph R. Toy, Jr. (Simsbury Historical Society)

 

On January 1, 1862, Joseph R. Toy, Jr. was mustered into Company H, 12^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment as the Captain.  Captain Toy’s service to the Union would be a brief one as he contracted both typhoid fever and malaria while the regiment was in camp at Carrollton, Louisiana near New Orleans where he later died on June 21, 1862. Interestingly, local history in Simsbury recounts that his body was returned to his hometown for burial packed in a cask of whiskey.^[iv]  On July 16, 1862, the Reverend Ichabod Simmons delivered the funeral sermon for Captain Toy at the Congregational Church in Simsbury inspiring another group of Simsbury men including Oliver’s two brothers to join the Union cause on the battlefield.

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[i] (Ingersoll, 1869)

[ii] (Morris, 1869)

[iii] (Meyer, 2011)

[iv] (Meyer, 2011)