Farewell to Connecticut: A Very Pleasant Time

At Camp Buckingham, Colonel Edward Harland and the other officers of the Eighth continued the process of organizing and training the recruits now gathered from various parts of the state. Exceedingly eager about the impending march to fight the rebels and put down the revolt, these young men were far from effective soldiers ready for combat. Those officers of the regiment who like Colonel Harland had gained some experience during the battle of Bull Run, set about to train these young men and begin to form them into a cohesive unit as they waited for word of their first assignment. Their daily training to prepare for the tactics du jour of the Civil War meant one primary activity so critical to combat effectiveness, the drill.

Drilling, which had generally begun at the places of original enlistment, was continued vigorously in the camps. Nearly all the officers, and some of the privates, had seen service; yet at least three-fourths were raw volunteers, who knew no difference between “reverse arms” and “right-shoulder-shift.” The three-months’ veterans put their awkward comrades sternly through the manual, and exercised them in company and battalion drill, morning, afternoon, and evening. Every squad made the most of the few days remaining, and instruction proceeded rapidly. The three regiments received Enfield rifles, the two flank companies of each being armed with Sharpe’s; and succeeding regiments were generally furnished with the same admirable weapons, and the same proportion of each.^[1]

Within days of the commencement of equipping, organizing and drilling at Camp Buckingham, orders came from the federal government at Washington regarding the future employment of the 8^th Connecticut and many other New England regiments. On October 1, 1861, the United States Secretary of War, Simon Cameron, requested Governor Buckingham to send the two Connecticut regiments to Camp Hempstead, Long Island, New York with instructions to report to Brigadier General Ambrose Burnside for further training. Ambrose Burnside was a man with a mission in great need of troops to carry it out. Like many of his comrades in the Union Army, Burnside’s Civil War service saw a rather rocky first engagement with the Confederates. Although he was a West Point graduate with service in the prewar army, Burnside’s leadership of a brigade at Bull Run, filled with three-month regiments from his native Rhode Island, was somewhat less than impressive. After this first engagement, Colonel Burnside returned to Rhode Island and mustered out of service with his soldiers uncertain as to his future. The jobless Burnside would only wait for a few days as his pre-war business connections with the newly appointed commander of the Army of the Potomac, Major General George B. McClellan, landed him a commission as a Brigadier General. McClellan ordered his friend to return to Washington to receive orders for his next assignment. Once back in the capital city, Burnside assumed command of several brigades filled with untrained regiments of newly minted soldiers. These green units required an immense amount of attention for drilling and equipping.

 

Ambrose Burnside

 

With grand ideas on how he could be more useful in his service to the Union, Ambrose Burnside did not hesitate to present his plans to his old buddy, George McClellan. His idea was to raise several brigades filled with regiments from the New England states to form a new amphibious assault force. Burnside proposed to acquire his ships from the northern coastal cities to both transport the troops south and provide indirect fire support to the coastal operations. The Rhode Island general believed he would be able to rely on the maritime knowledge many of these New England men to help navigate the lighter boats though the inland waterways of the southern coast.

As to the specific targets of this amphibious force, Burnside would consult with McClellan and make that determination at a later date as the operational situation dictated. After receiving General McClellan’s approval of the plan, Burnside turned his attention to recruiting soldiers and procuring ships. His initial staging area for the soldiers pouring in from the north would be Camp Hempstead on Long Island, New York.

Seventeen days after Oliver Case made the inscription in his bible, on October 17, 1861 at four o’clock in the afternoon, the 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry regiment was officially transferred to federal service and departed Camp Buckingham. Leaving Hartford via ship bound for command of Ambrose Burnside at the Camp of Instruction on Long Island, New York, the regiment stood at a strength of 1,016 of Connecticut’s finest young men. The regiment would never again have this many soldiers standing in its ranks, dressed in new uniforms of blue receiving the well wishes of a host of friends, family and citizens of Hartford. Crowds of cheering citizens gathered along the docks as the ship made its way from the Hartford pier and steamed slowly but steadily down the Connecticut River. The scene was an inspiring sight for the young soldiers and their officers, a stirring event as “the departing soldiers were greeted with waving flags and resounding cheers from proud relatives and friends, and grateful strangers, who only knew them as a part of the grand Union army going eagerly forth to offer vicarious atonement for the sins of the nation.”^[2] As he later picked up his pencil and paper for the first time to write to his sister, Private Oliver Cromwell Case described the martial scene as a “very pleasant time going down the river cheering and being cheered continually.” As the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut watched the crowds and the city slip out of sight, the setting sun began to chase the daylight away.^[3]

Although the flame of rumors burned hot through the ranks, Oliver and the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut had no reliable information regarding their destination upon departing Hartford. If they knew where the steamer was bound or what the future assignment of the regiment might hold, the officers of the regiment chose to keep the secret for the present time. As darkness began to set in, the hundreds of young Connecticut boys did their best to settle into the cramped quarters of the ship. Much to the delight of Oliver Case and the soldiers of Company A, they were assigned some of the better accommodations aboard the boat located “in the gangway forward of the shaft.”^[4] In his letter to Abbie written several days later, Oliver described how the soldiers “spread our beds all over the floor and bunked in like a mess of pigs” and that some of the boys “were in the water shoe deep.”^[5] Such were the accommodations for the first of many shipboard journeys these troops would experience over the next year.

The soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment were now on their way to the great adventure of fighting the rebels. Sadly, many of Connecticut’s sons crowded on the ship this day had seen their native state for the last time. Among that number was Oliver Cromwell Case of Simsbury.

 

ENDNOTES:

[1] Morris, W.A. Croffut and John M., (1869), The Military and Civil History of Connecticut: The War of 1861-1865, New York, Ledyard Bill.

[2] (Morris, 1869)

[3] Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case 1861-1862 (unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, CT (October 20, 1861).

[4] (Case)

[5] (Case)

A Gift for the Ages: Oliver Case’s Bible

Throughout the Civil War, most of the camps for mustering Union regiments were located in major urban areas where resources including transportation and communication were more readily available to commanders. The location of these camps also allowed access by members of the public curious to observe the daily training. So it was for Oliver Case and his fellow recruits in the fledging 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment during their time of organization and equipping at Camp Buckingham. As the few veterans among the officer corps of the regiment continued to drill and equip the regiment, the newly minted soldiers were visited by many friends, family members and other well-wishers.

Our relatives and friends who desired to see us had to come to see where we were, instead of expecting us to be calling upon them, and every day, by the time of evening dress parade, the camp was well crowded with visitors. It was the season of flowers and there were very few tents which did not have at all times a profuse supply of flowers, the gift of the lady friends of some one of the occupants.^[1]

Based the dating and unit identification from Oliver’s bible, he was visited while in residence at Camp Buckingham by several family members and at least one young lady who was either a friend of his younger sister, Abbie, or a possible romantic interest. Written on one of the front pages of Oliver’s Bible are two names in script not inscribed by Oliver’s hand. The first name is that of Miss Abbie J. Case, Oliver’s sister and the other is a Miss Jennie A. Hartford. Jennie Hartford was a young lady approximately the same age as Oliver who may have been a love interest although that is pure speculation and the relationship was quite possibly nothing more than a friendship. Love interest or not, the year following Oliver’s death, she married James Wesley Latimer who was likely a distance cousin of the Case siblings and her relationship with Oliver Case is lost to history.

On the same day as Governor Buckingham received the orders for his two regiments to report to Burnside, Private Oliver Cromwell Case received orders of his own. On October 1, 1861, Private Case was ordered to transfer from his original company of enlistment, Company B, to Company A of the 8th Connecticut. The reason for the transfer is unclear, but only one other soldier from Simsbury, George W. Lewis, appears on the rolls for Company A. As indicated by many of his letters, Oliver seems to have adapted well to the new company making friends and joining in the extracurricular activities of the troops. He also appears to have maintained a very positive relationship with the officers of his new company mentioning them positively throughout his correspondence. In particular, Oliver formed a close association with Second Lieutenant Wolcott P. Marsh of Hartford who would appear as a subject in many of his letters. Walcott, who was married to the sister of Ariel Case’s wife, also appeared to develop a great fondness for Oliver mentioning him in many of the letters to his wife during the war.

On that same day, Oliver received a pocket-sized, leather-bound Thomas Nelson and Sons Bible printed in 1854. The origin of this bible is unclear but there are several likely scenarios for its appearance on October 1^st of 1861. It is possible that Oliver obtained the bible from one of the Christian aid societies that operated in the Union camps during this period. However, it seems the more likely explanation is that someone in his family or a friend gave it to him as a gift during a visit with Oliver at Camp Buckingham. Although Oliver never mentions this bible in his wartime letters, one set of inscriptions in the bible is a definite match with his handwriting in several of the letters he wrote to his sister.

The inscription on the bible of Oliver Case

Whatever the origin of this Thomas Nelson pocket-size bible, one hundred and thirty-two years later, it appeared at a community yard sale in Germantown, Maryland where another soldier procured it for the sum of three dollars. It forever connected the two soldiers and became a gift for the ages.

 

ENDNOTES

[1] Marvin, Edwin E., The Fifth Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, 1889, Hartford, Wiley, Waterman & Eaton.

A Sad Day in Connecticut

On September 27, 1862, family members and friends of the soldiers of the 8th Connecticut were officially able to confirm what most of them already knew from telegraph messages and letters coming from the regiment. The regiment had fought valiantly but suffered terrible in the Battle of Antietam. Almost 50% of the soldiers marching into the battle on September 17th were now dead, wounded or missing. Major John Ward’s official casualty report listed 399 soldiers as available for duty that day with 194 of them killed, wounded or missing as of the 21st of September 1862.

Ten days after the terrible fight had ended, Major Ward’s report was published in the Connecticut Courant with not only the numbers but the name of every soldier killed, wounded or missing in the regiment. It was a sad day for many homes across Connecticut. In the home of Job Case of Simsbury, it was a day of mixed emotions for the family. A sense of relief came over them as the report confirmed that their two older sons, Ariel and Alonzo of the 16th Connecticut, had survived the battle and were not wounded or missing. However, the report also gave them the news they had likely first receive several days earlier…their youngest son Oliver has been killed in action.

Taken with the Chill of Ague

On a “warm as May” Thursday evening, December 5, 1861, Oliver Case sat in the tent of his friend, Lieutenant Wolcott Marsh reading the latest letter from his sister Abbie. Oliver had just finished writing three letters likely meant for Abbie and his two brothers, Ariel and Alonzo, part of his evening routine. For his part, Marsh paid scant attention to Case as he attended to his duties as pay officer for all of the soldiers not in camp. The Lieutenant busily worked his way through a mound of paperwork, associated with making sure the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment were properly paid, and all funds were accounted for to the last penny. As Oliver read Abbie’s letter, he could feel that something wasn’t right. Aches and pains had begun pulsing throughout his young body leaving Case feeling that an “old complaint” was making a return appearance.[1]

That was bad news to Private Oliver Cromwell Case who was no stranger to the fight against disease common among soldiers of the day. During his travels with the 8th Connecticut to Long Island and then to Annapolis, Case struggled with Ague, an illness defined as “malarial or intermittent fever; characterized by paroxysms consisting of chill, fever, and sweating, at regularly recurring times…” and that can also be accompanied by “trembling or shuddering.” Oliver found himself in and out of the hospital or confined to his tent with this condition also known as “chill fever” or “the shakes” in the popular vernacular. One surgeon of another regiment described effects of this condition for which he had no medicine by saying that his soldiers “have to shake it out for all the good we can do them.”[2]

Another contemporary scientific publication described Ague:

For an hour or more the patient is shivering and shaking with cold, frequently so violently as to make his teeth chatter ; and this is as likely to occur in the hottest part of the day as at any other time. Presently the chill subsides and is succeeded by a violent, burning fever, which lasts usually three or four hours, and is followed in the graver forms of the disease by a copious perspiration.[3]

Civil War soldiers line up for treatment of Ague[4]

 

Of the 360, 000 plus Union causalities in the Civil War, over 250,000 of those soldiers died from disease and other non-battle injuries while only about 110,000 died of combat injuries. Half of those deaths were caused by typhoid fever, diarrhea and other intestinal disorders with tuberculosis and pneumonia deaths following closely behind. Surgeons and commanders knew little about disease and the germ theory had not yet been discovered. Most of these young men had never been exposed to large populations living in close quarters that were often in filthy condition. Communicable disease outbreaks in the camps were commonplace.

By the next day, December 6^th, Oliver’s condition has worsen from the previous evening to the point where he was “excused from drill by the surgeon and about noon was taken with a chill and went to the hospital.” Oliver found the hospital to his likening “where I have had as good accommodations as could be, good beds and clothes, and every thing as comfortable as at home.” In just three days, young Private Case was up and about and the Ague “has been broken up so that to day (9^th of December)” Oliver “came down around the company street” but returned to the hospital “to sleep to night.” After a good night’s sleep, Oliver declared himself “well except weak” so much so that “the nurse let me walk out a little” to enjoy “a very pleasant day…warm as summer.”[5]

His fight against Ague was not over as Oliver Case would face more bouts of this malaria condition over the coming weeks and months including many more days in the confines of a hospital. Ultimately, it would be the enemy’s bullet, not the feverish disease, that would end his life. However, for the last year of his life, Ague would be his enemy in many battles.

 

ENDNOTES

[1] Letters to a Civil War Bride: The Civil War Letters of Captain Wolcott Pascal Marsh, compiled by Sandra Marsh Mercer and Jerry Mercer, Heritage Books, 2006; The Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case (Unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, CT, 1861-1862, (10 December 1861)

[2] “Rudy’s List of Archaic Medical Terms: A Glossary of Archaic Medical Terms, Diseases and Causes of Death,” accessed from http://www.antiquusmorbus.com/Index.htm; A Surgeon’s Civil War: The Letters and Diary of Daniel M. Holt, M.D., Daniel M. Holt, Kent State University Press, 1994

[3] “The Civil War and Malaria: A patriotic appeal to fight against a common scourge in 1861 – malaria”

Scientific American, July 20, 1861, accessed on December 7, 2017 from

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/quinine-the-civil-war-and-malaria/

[4] Hardtack and Coffee, John D. Billings, John M. Smith and Company, Boston, 1887.

[5] Case Letters, 10 December 1861; Mercer, 2006.

The Balls Rung Tunes

The mud soaked roads and swamps leading the Union forces of Burnside’s Expedition toward the Confederate forces defending Newbern made marching miserable for Oliver Case and the other troops in the 8^th Connecticut. Bedding down for the night on March 13, 1862 brought little relief to these boys in blue as the North Carolina coastal weather continued to dump rain. Oliver observed that the milder southern climate granted some relief when the order to move out came at 6 am on the morning of March 14th, although “our blankets were as heavy as 8 ought to be.”

The regiments and brigades of Burnside’s expedition were up and moving again on the morning of 14 February 1862. At 7:00 am the units were advancing toward Confederate breastworks that, unlike those of the first day, were occupied by soldiers in gray and butternut. The First Brigade quickly became engaged by Confederate forces in entrenchments along the Fort Thompson line closer to the river. Colonel Rodman, of the Fourth Rhode Island, discovered an opening in the entrenchments by which the Confederates could be flanked and reported this fact immediately to his brigade commander, General Parke. Parke did not hesitate to order an attack by the entire brigade who were positioned in the center of the Union line of advance. The entrenchments were soon overwhelmed by Parke’s troops and the Confederate defenders were flanked because the center of the Confederate line was manned by green militia units. Seeing the advancing Union regiments of Parke’s Brigade, these militia troops quick broke and ran to the rear.[1]

As the 8^th Connecticut approached the still-occupied earthworks, it was the moment of truth for Private Case. “[T]he balls rung tunes over our heads and occasionally played a little nearer our heads than we cared for” as the remaining Confederate defenders fired upon the advancing Union troops. For Oliver, his baptism of fire had finally arrived.

To those who have not experienced it, the emergence of humor while under enemy fire may seem an impossibility. This phenomenon, as difficult as it may be to understand, is real. In the midst of battle there is still room for humor. So it was for Oliver Case and the soldiers of Company A, 8^th CVI:

Philo Matson, from out on Firetown mountains, was in the rank ahead of me and was much frightened; he would have fell out if possible. The orders were given to fall down, right up, fix bayonets, fire. As soon as I had fired, I heard Philo say, “Oh, I’m killed”, turned and saw a slight flesh wound on the top of his head. I certainly could not help laughing to see him. He turned to the orderly and asked him if he thought he was killed and, when he found out that he was still in the land of the living, took his gun and made himself missing as soon as possible.[2]

Here stands Oliver Case, with of bullets flying over his head, any one of which could strike him and cause instant death, yet he’s laughing. Obviously, Private Philo A. Matson of Canton, Connecticut was giving verbal or non-verbal indications that he wanted to run away as the regiment marched into the hail of bullets. Certainly, his fellow soldiers were afraid of what was ahead but none would dare let it show and be labeled a coward. Matson had no such inhabitations and made a spectacle of himself after suffering a minor flesh wound. His cowardness manifested itself as Maston “made himself missing” on a permanent basis being listed as a deserter in April 1862.

The humor of the Connecticut troops was short-lived as some of the Confederate rounds found their mark. Two companies of the 8th (G and H, actually K) were sent out as skirmishers as company A and the remainder of the regiment lay on the ground with the bullets buzzing just above them. Oliver reported to Abbie on the first causalities of the battle:

Capt. Epham [This name was unclear to the original transcriber] of Co. H was wounded in the shoulder at this time; it is feared mortally. Howes Phelps from Co. B was killed.[3]

In fact, there is no record of a Capt. “Epham” in the 8^th CVI. The company commander of company H at this time appears to have been Capt. Thomas D. Sheffield of Stonington who had replaced Capt. Douglass Fowler. Sheffield originally enlisted in company G as the 1^st Lieutenant and it is assumed he was promoted and transferred to company H upon the resignation of Fowler. He was honorably discharged on January 17, 1863. Rolls of the 8^th confirm that Houlsey F.D. Phelps (aka “Howes”) of East Windsor (likely a distant cousin of Oliver), was killed at the Battle of Newbern on March 14, 1862. Capt. “Epham” was likely Capt. Charles L. Upham, commander of company K, who was reported as being wounded in the battle by the account of Croffut and Morris, but this status is not found on the company rolls.

The Union assault on Fort Thompson at the Battle of Newbern

 

These causalities occurred during the assault of the Confederate battery known as Fort Thompson described by Oliver:

At this time, word came that the 21^st Mass. had charged upon the battery and were repulsed. We were ordered on double quick through [word unreadable] until we reached the rail road where was a high embankment where we halted to form.[4]

Moving quietly down the railroad, Colonel Harland had positioned his regiment to assault the battery from the flank. Oliver observed some deception in the works:

We were then ordered to fall and by mistake our colors fell too, and the rebels, deceived by our gray coats, took us to be rebel reinforcements arriving by rail road and ceased firing upon us; this mistake probably saved many lives.[5]

The soldiers were ordered to fix bayonets and the charge was then directed by Colonel Harland:

“…with a clear, shrill voice, and the emphasis of coming victory, rang the orders, “By company into line!” An advancing front of forty men appeared before the astonished rebels. ” Fix bayonets ! ” It was done at a rapid walk. ” Forward into line ! ” Up the embankment, and across the railroad, dashed the rear companies, coming into line within a hundred paces of the works. “Steady, guide center, forward, double quick !”[6]

And here is one of those points of disputed history. From Oliver’s view:

When we started from there we went double quick to charge their battery, but as they did not like the look of cold steel they left in a hurry. The color guard immediately ran up to the battery and planted the colors which were the first upon the battery.[7]

At least three regiments including the 8^th CVI would claim the title of “First to Plant the Flag” upon the Confederate works. The 11^th CVI and the 4^th Rhode Island would also declare that they were the first regiment to the top. Croffut and Morris reported it this way:

The Eighth contests the claim of the 4th Rhode- Island to having first entered the enemy’s works; and it is certain that the flag of the Eighth was first displayed therein.[8]

Of course, the 8^th CVI had a significant advantage here as “Morris” was the Rev. John M. Morris who would become the regimental chaplain just over one month after the Battle of Newbern.

Writing after the battle, General Parke reported that all the regiments “were under fire, and the officers seemed proud of the men they were leading and the men showed they had full confidence in their officers.”  Two soldiers are killed in action and four are wounded.

The attack upon the defenses of Newbern (March 14th) was made at an early hour, and the Eighth assisted in the capture of about five hundred Confederate troops. This was the regiment’s first baptism of blood. Its killed were privates Phelps of Company B and Patterson of Company I, with four wounded. The personal bravery of Colonel Harland amid the whistling bullets at Newbern, together with his skill and cool-headedness as a tactician, and his evident desire to shield his men from harm whenever possible, gave them a confidence in him which was never afterward shaken.[9]

The 8^th was first in the battle in which they fought bravely…Gen Burnside came along up side of our Regt an[d] order[ed] us to charge on them in which we did in double quick time in which they fired upon us killing 8; wound[ed] several. It was a bold attempt but we won the victory driving the rebels in every direction.[10]

 

ENDNOTES:

[1] OR, Parke and Harland March 22, 1862.

[2] Case Letters, 1861-1862. (16 March 1862)

[3] IBID

[4] IBID

[5] IBID

[6] Croffut and Morris, 1868.

[7] Case Letters, 1861-1862. (16 March 1862)

[8] Croffut and Morris, 1868.

[9] History of the Eighth Regiment C. V. Infantry, J.H.Vaill, Case, Lockwood, and Brainard Co, Hartford, 1889.

[10] Letters of Cyrus B. Harrington, Connecticut Historical Society, March 15, 1862.

The Landing at Slocum’s Creek

Ambrose Burnside’s second objective in his expeditionary campaign against the Confederates on the North Carolina coast was the city of Newbern. Newbern was located on the Neuse River about 35 miles above the interior entrance to Pamlico Sound and access by rail to the interior rail network that fed the Army of Northern Virginia from the deeper parts of the southern states.  A Confederate stronghold and logistical base, the city provided an opportunity to cut the rebel supply line and provide a linkage by rail to Burnside’s third objective, Fort Macon.

As they had done earlier in the days before Burnside’s assault on Roanoke Island, Confederate officials were lackadaisical in their defensive preparations at Newbern. While it had been over a month since the fall of Roanoke Island, the government in Richmond did very little in the way of providing additional manpower or supplies to the forces defending the approaches to Newbern. Although a “political general,” Confederate commander Brigadier General Lawrence O’Bryan Branch recognized the deficiencies of the Newbern defenses and began lobbying Richmond soon after assuming command in January 1862. His calls for reinforcements and materiel fell on deaf ears in the Confederate capital.

Confederate Brigadier General Lawrence Branch lead the resistance to Burnside’s Expedition[i]

 

On March 13, 1862, Burnside’s fleet of ships had made their way up the Neuse River to the mouth of Slocum’s Creek only 16 miles below the Trent River which formed the border of the city of Newbern. The strip of land between Slocum’s Creek and the Trent River was fortified by General Branch and the Confederates with earthworks, trenches and obstacles to form successive defensive positions. However, Branch did not have an adequate number of troops and artillery pieces with ammunition to properly man these positions. The small Confederate Navy along this part of the North Carolina coast was rendered totally ineffective by the Union Navy following the Battle of Roanoke Island so no naval gunfire support was available to Branch.

As the ships of Burnside’s fleet arrived at the mouth of Slocum’s Creek on March 13^th, Oliver Case the 8^th Connecticut soldiers loaded onto smaller, shallow draft boats to make their way toward the landing site. The 8^th Connecticut under the command of Colonel Edward Harland remained assigned to the brigade of Brigadier General John Grubb Parke. Parke’s Third Brigade consisted of the 11^th Connecticut, 4^th and 5^th Rhode Island as well as the 8^th Connecticut. It was a tedious operation to ferry the troops onto the beaches and organize them for movement but it was soon completed.

The Troops of Burnside’s Expedition come ashore at the mouth of Slocum’s Creek[ii]

 

Oliver described the landing site as “a small cove” where troops were pushed forward by their commanders “and immediately commenced marching up the river.” Slocum’s Creek probably seemed more like a river to Oliver and many of the boys from Connecticut as the 8^th marched along the creek’s edge on what Oliver called “the beach” for about two miles before turning to head inland. Not long after heading away from the water, the regiment came upon a welcome sight that was just too good to resist for some of the troops.

In a short time we came up to an encampment of cavalry which had been evacuated but a short time. Some of the boys fell out and helped themselves to chickens, ham, biscuits etc.[iii]

Good things cannot last and so it was for the feasting troopers who were soon given the order to move out. In a scene that would be a preview of Burnside’s infamous “mud march” in Virginia almost one year later, the troops struggled against terrible conditions. Oliver described it this way:

We travelled till after sundown over the muddiest road (if road it could be called) that I ever saw.[iv]

The Confederate commander closest to the landing, Colonel R. P. Campbell, in command of the Confederate right wing, had interpreted the supporting gunfire from the Union ships as an indicator that another landing of Union troops would follow the first and orders his troops to pull back to the defense line near Fort Thompson. When the Union regiments reach the entrenchments on the 13th, they find them abandoned.

Oliver observed the abandoned enemy camps and fortifications realizing that the soldiers of Parke’s Brigade may have dodged the bullet for this day.

About the middle of the afternoon we came to the first battery, which had just been evacuated and the barracks set on fire, which were still burning as we passed. We found out afterward that if we had been a day later the rebels would have had their forces there and mounted and it would have taken the lives of many men to have dislodged them for it is a very strong point. The fortification is a mile long, with a large ditch in front protected in the rear by breast works of huge trees felled top of one another. It would have been almost impossible to have flanked them and they would undoubtedly have had to be charged upon to have dislodged them.[v]

The expedition continued to march until nightfall when they halted and prepared for follow on operations at daylight the next morning. General Parke reported that “roads generally were in bad order, and the men marched in many localities through water and mud. In addition, heavy showers fell at intervals during the day and night, and although the men had their overcoats and blankets the bivouac was extremely trying.”[vi]

After struggling against the terrible road conditions, the troops were allowed to make camp for the night to include building fires using the available pitch pine wood which burned even in the wet conditions. That night, wrote Oliver, the rain “commenced in good earnest” creating miserable conditions for the soldiers who found that “after 12 o’clock very little sleeping was done by the soldiers in this division.” Oliver and his comrades knew that tomorrow would bring battle.

ENDNOTES:

[i] Prewar photograph from Library of Congress, http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2010649184/

[ii] From Harper’s Weekly, April 5, 1862

[iii] Case Letters, 1861-1862. (16 March 1862)

[iv] IBID.

[v] IBID.

[vi] OR, Parke, March 22, 1862.

Hurry Up and Wait

Anyone with military service is familiar with the concept called, “hurry up and wait.” It’s a fact in the life of a soldier to be told to quickly prepare for something big and then find yourself in a waiting pattern until your leaders are satisfied with conditions and the command is given to move out. This time is often spent by young soldier speculating and reflecting especially when the hurry up and wait is in anticipation of combat operations. There are many such days in the life of a soldier.

 

“Hurry Up and Wait” – A Fact of Life for Civil War Soldiers[1]

 

March 4, 1862 was one of those days for Private Oliver Case and his fellow soldiers of the 8th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry. As the day dawned, they scrambled to prepare for movement only to find themselves waiting for the final orders to load the ships and move out to what they all believed would be their second battle experience. As the soldiers waited, the rumors flew and Oliver passed the time in one of his favorite activities, writing letters. This time he speculated to his sister Abbie about the regiment’s destination:

As to our destination we are entirely ignorant, some say one place – some another, but none know.[2]

As Ambrose Burnside planned the next move for his expeditionary force, the soldiers of the 8^th Connecticut tried to anticipate their next movement. For several days, leaders had also anticipated the movement by ordering the troops “to keep three days rations cooked in advance so as to be ready to start at a moment’s warning.” Just the day before he wrote this letter, Oliver and his fellow soldiers were told that tomorrow, March 4^th, would be the big day only to experience more disappointment after scrambling to ready themselves in the morning.

But when the reveille was beat the order to strike tents was not given as had been expected, and it was shortly given out that we should not be able to go aboard this forenoon on account of the wind which was blowing a strong northeaster at the time.[3]

The volatile North Carolina weather had once again caused more hurry up and wait for the Union forces of Burnside’s Expedition. Oliver used this occasion to rely the latest news from camp to Abbie including the word of several resignations among the officers of the regiments. In addition to the resignation of Capt. Fowler already mentioned in his letter of February 27, 1862, Oliver also includes that “Capt. Nash and a couple of Lieut’s. have gone home.” Captain Charles W. Nash from New Hartford enlisted on 25 September 1861 as the Commanding Officer of Company C, 8^th CVI. He resigned 2 March 1862 at Roanoke Island, NC.

Based on the regimental rolls, the resigning Lieutenants may have included some or all of the following:

Lieutenant Robert H. Burnside

Enlisted 25 September 1861, New Hartford

Company C, 8^th CVI

Resigned 1 March 1862

1^st Lieutenant Henry N. Place

Enlisted 25 September 1861, Waterbury

Company E, 8^th CVI

Resigned 18 March 1862

2^nd Lieutenant Luman Wadhams

Enlisted 25 September 1861, Waterbury

Company E, 8^th CVI

Resigned April 8, 1862

1^st Lieutenant Noah P. Ives

Enlisted 23 September 1861, Meriden

Company K, 8^th CVI

Resigned 18 March 1862

Oliver does not give the reason for these resignations, but there are other troubling rumors spreading through the camp about officers of the regiment:

It is rumored that the Col. and the Chaplain are both going home, also several others. The reason assigned for the resignation of the Col. was that Gen. Burnside had given him particular fits about the way he had conducted the regiment.[4]

The regimental commander, Colonel Edward Harland, did not resign and would rise to command the entire brigade by the Maryland Campaign. Whatever performance deficiency that may have existed in the mind of Ambrose Burnside was obviously corrected and Harland was well respected as a leader.

As for the chaplain, Oliver’s information was much more accurate. The 8th Connecticut chaplain was Joseph J. Woolley of Norwalk who mustered into the 8th on October 5, 1861 and did resigned on March 13, 1862. The roster of the regiment lists health problems as the reason for his resignation.

Oliver also gives an interesting assessment of the leadership abilities of the Commanding General, Ambrose Burnside:

The Gen. looks out for this men and woe be to the officer under him that tries to “rough it” on them. When we first came here we had some salt junk that was cooked up for two or three days rations and put hot into barrels, and before we ate it up it was a little tainted around the bones. The Gen. found it out and gave the commissary to understand if it happened again he could march. His men were not going to eat stinking meat.[5]

After all the rumors and reflection, it seemed that the soldiers of the 8th were moving much closer to ending this episode of hurry up and wait.

I think in all probability we shall not go aboard before morning although we are prepared to hear the order any moment to “strike tents in fifteen minutes.” I have just stopped writing to take some cartridges from the orderly to make up my forty rounds.[6]

According to a later letter penned by Oliver, the regiment did finally break camp on this day and were loaded aboard their former home on the steamer, “Chasseur.”

 

ENDNOTES

[1] Hardtack and Coffee: The Unwritten Story of Army Life, John D. Billings, George M. Smith and Company, Boston, 1887

[2] The Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case (Unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, CT, 1861-1862.

[3] IBID.

[4] IBID.

[5] IBID.

[6] IBID.

Douglass Fowler: What Might Have Been

Studying the Civil War and its participants inevitably leads one to the “what might have been” questions. This is acutely true when focusing on the experiences of the soldiers who lost their lives in the conflict. I cannot count the number of times I’ve asked this question regarding Oliver Case. His life held so much promise for great things beyond his service to the Union.

So it is with the subject of one of Oliver’s letters, Captain Douglass Fowler of Norwalk, Connecticut. Fowler had originally enlisted in the 3^rd Connecticut Infantry, a three-month regiment, as the commander of Company A on May 14, 1861. While in the 3^rd Connecticut, Fowler served alongside the future 8^th Connecticut regimental commander Edward Harland during the First Battle of Bull Run and was honorably discharged on August 12, 1861 at the expiration of the regiment’s term of service.

Fowler soon returned to service with the 8^th Connecticut as Commander of Company H on September 23, 1861. The records for the 8^th indicate that he resigned on January 20, 1862. Based on Oliver Case’s letters to his sister, this was likely the date that Fowler submitted his letter of resignation for approval up through his chain of command. Oliver’s letter dated February 27, 1862 relates that Captain Fowler’s approved resignation had recently been returned from Washington and he would be heading home soon.

Most fascinating is the reason Oliver provides for the sudden resignation. Oliver writes to Abbie that “Capt. Fowler got into a fuss with the Lieut. Col. at Annapolis and sent in his resignation.” Arguments and rivalries between officers in Civil War volunteer regiments were not uncommon and the 8^th Connecticut had it’s share of issues especially during the first few months of service. Trying to identify the Lieutenant Colonel that caused Douglass Fowler to resign is difficult to determine with exact certainty. The two Lieutenant Colonels that served in the 8^th Connecticut during this period were Peter L. Cunningham followed by Andrew Terry.  

Peter Cunningham became Lieutenant Colonel of the 8^th Connecticut soon after its formation. However, he was not a man well suited for the duties or for military service. As Oliver Case writes, Cunningham became the “laughing stock of the whole brigade” due to his lack of military presence and drilling acumen. Likely pressured by the regimental commander, Colonel Edward Harland, and possibly other senior leaders, Peter Cunningham submitted his resignation from the 8^th Connecticut on the 23^rd of December 1861 and soon returned to Connecticut.

Peter H. Cunningham, Lieutenant Colonel of the 8^th Connecticut, October 5, 1861 to December 23, 1861

 

Promoted from his initial rank of Major upon the resignation of Peter Cunningham, Andrew Terry assumed the duties of Lieutenant Colonel of the 8^th Connecticut on or about December 24, 1861. According to the official records, Terry hailed from Plymouth, Connecticut and enlisted in the 8^th Connecticut on October 5, 1861. He served as Lieutenant Colonel for the regiment until March 28, 1862 when he resigned. Andrew Terry was born on December 29, 1824 and married Susan H. Orr sometime before 1847. He died on August 26, 1877 and is buried in the Hillside Cemetery in Terryville, Connecticut.

Andrew Terry, Lieutenant Colonel of the 8^th Connecticut, December 24, 1861 to March 28, 1862

 

So, will the offending Lieutenant Colonel please step up? Oliver gives us the one clue to solving the mystery that the incident happened at Annapolis. This means it could have involved either officer since the regiment did not sail from Annapolis until after the new year. However, it is more likely that Andrew Terry was the reason behind Fowler’s resignation since the resignation and departure of Cunningham would have removed the officer from having an impact of Fowler’s future service. The other clue that may support this theory of Terry as the offending party is found in Oliver’s statement “[Fowler] should have been Maj. Instead of Capt. Appleton.” When Andrew Terry was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, this left a vacancy in the position of Major for the 8^th Connecticut, the third highest ranking officer in the regiment. As the new Lieutenant Colonel for the regiment, Terry’s opinion would have carried great sway with the regimental commander, Colonel Harland. The “fuss” that Oliver writes about could have been a dispute between Fowler and Terry regarding the recommendation for promotion to Major.

Douglass Fowler resigned from the 8^th Connecticut on January 20, 1862

 

Whatever the issue, Douglass Fowler wanted no more of the officer politics in the 8^th Connecticut and so he resigned and returned to Connecticut by the end or February or early March of 1862. He would not stay home for long as Fowler joined the 17^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry to serve as the commanding officer of Company A on July 14, 1862. He participated in the Battle of Chancellorsville. Fowler would finally get his promotion to Lieutenant Colonel after the wounding and death of the regimental commander. Lieutenant Colonel Fowler found himself in command of the 17^th on the first day of Gettysburg leading his regiment into action on Blocher’s Knoll. As Fowler bravely rode forward on his white horse, he encouraged his men to keep moving into the fight. Many of his soldier remembered his fearless example with Fowler urging the soldiers to “Dodge the big ones Boys” as the Confederate artillery reigned in on their position. Only moments after these words of encouragement, Fowler was partially decapitated by a Confederate solid shot. His remains were never recovered, but he is memorialized in the Gettysburg National Cemetery. John Banks has an excellent post about Lieutenant Fowler at Gettysburg.

The what might have been for the Douglas Fowler in the 8^th Connecticut remains unknown…

NOTES:

Information on Douglas Fowler from the 17^th Connecticut website (http://seventeenthcvi.org/blog/) and John Banks’ excellent Civil War site (http://john-banks.blogspot.com/2014/05/gettysburg-death-of-17th-connecticut-lt.html)

Photo and other information regarding Andrew Terry: From Find-A-Grave (https://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=82779851)

 Lieut. Col. Douglass Fowler, 17th CVI , Photo courtesy of Bobby Dobbins/17thcvi.org

From THE MILITARY AND CIVIL History of Connecticut THE WAR OF 1861-65, BY W. A. CROFFUT AND JOHN M. MORRIS:

Lieut.-Col. Douglass Fowler of Norwalk was shot dead during the first day’s fight. He had been in the war from the beginning ; having led a company in the Third Regiment through the three-months’ service, and afterwards raised a company for the Eighth. When he resigned his commission in the latter, he recruited a company for the Seventeenth. He was sick before the battle of Chancellorsville, and was borne to the fight in an ambulance ; but he afterwards fought with great endurance, being among the last to retreat. He was by nature a true soldier, brave and skillful ; and his genial temper, generous disposition, and buoyant spirits, united with a fervent interest in the loyal cause, had won for him an enthusiastic regard ; and the men followed him willingly into the deadly strife. He was struck down while leading them in a charge ; and still he sleeps in his unknown grave upon the battle-field of Gettysburg.

Additional info on Douglass Fowler can be found at:

17th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry

The American Civil War: Battle of Gettysburg (17th CVI page)

 

Missing His First Opportunity for Combat

On the 7^th of February 1862, the ships of Burnside’s Expeditionary force had finally made their way north into the Croatan Sound off the western shore of Roanoke Island. Their guns pounded the Confederate fortifications on the island for most of the day as Oliver Case and the other soldiers of the expedition watched and waited for the order to attack. The bombardment continued until about 3 o’clock in the afternoon when Burnside finally gave the order to begin landing the troops. Shallow draft boats ferried the Union troops to the island from the larger transport ships.

The Troops of Burnside’s Expedition Land on Roanoke[1]

Most of the initial Confederate opposition to the landings quickly faded away as Union gunboats raked the shoreline with fire. The small boats shuttled regiments ashore as the landings went on until about midnight on the 7^th. The 8^th Connecticut was one of the later units to go shore. Not among their number was Oliver Case who was too sick to accompany his regiment into their first combat action. Oliver later explained why he remained aboard the Chasseur as he was “indisposed, and the regiment had not pitched their tents and it was rather damp lying in the open air, especially for one who was not well.”[2] His indisposition seemed to be a recurrence of the fever he had suffered prior to his departure from Annapolis almost six weeks earlier when he was confined to a hospital ship.

For Case, it seemed that the disappointment of missing the regiment’s first action against the Confederates was minimized by the minor role the 8^th Connecticut played in the Battle of Roanoke Island. According to Oliver:

I have written nothing about the battle for the papers will be full of it. Gen. Burnside said the 8th Conn. held as responsibly fast as any upon the field although they did not have to fire a gun. His orders were to hold it even if it took every man. At one time it looked as though the brunt of the battle was coming upon them, but the enemy were flanked and turned in another direction.[3]

It was true that the regiment had played mainly a supporting role, but Oliver’s dismissive words to his younger sister were surely designed to hide his disappointment as well. Due to the combination of Oliver’s physical condition and the damp living among the swamps on the island, the officers of the 8^th Connecticut did not allow him to come ashore and join the regiment until one week after the battle. Finally, on Friday, February 14, 1862, Oliver Case left the Chasseur and planted his feet on the firm ground of Roanoke Island. As he often did in his letters, Oliver painted a word picture of what he saw for his sister.

This island is almost all covered with forests, mostly pitch pine, with now and then a clearing of five or six acres with a small house upon it. The land after it is cleared up is very easy of cultivation and produces light crops of corn and sweet potatoes. The forests are a perfect jungle, it being almost impossibility for man and beast to get through them. There are many swamps upon the island which are a perfect mat of green briars about 10 feet high and so thick that there is no guard kept next to them, which is the same as saying that they cannot be passed through.[4]

 

A Map of Roanoke Island

Oliver and the 8^th Connecticut will not call Roanoke Island home for many days as General Burnside already has plans for his next action on the North Carolina coast. The young man will also not have to wait long for his foray into combat with his fellow soldiers to ease the discontent of missing the Battle of Roanoke Island.

Endnotes:

[1] “The Burnside expedition landing at Roanoke Island – February 7th 1862.” Created by E. Sachse & Co., 1862., Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C., call # LC-DIG-ds-00119.  Available from http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2003655799/

[2] The Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case (Unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, CT, 1861-1862.

[3] IBID.

[4] IBID.

The New Year 1862 Brings Tragic Death

 

Private Oliver Cromwell Case was no stranger to the fight against disease. During his travels with the 8^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment to Long Island and then to Annapolis, Case struggled with Ague, an illness defined as “malarial or intermittent fever; characterized by paroxysms consisting of chill, fever, and sweating, at regularly recurring times…” and that can also be accompanied by “trembling or shuddering.”[1] Oliver found himself in and out of the hospital or confined to his tent with this condition also known as “chill fever” or “the shakes” in the popular vernacular. One surgeon of another regiment described effects of this condition for which he had no medicine by saying that his soldiers “have to shake it out for all the good we can do them.”[2]

Of the 360, 000 plus Union causalities in the Civil War, over 250,000 of those soldiers died from disease and other non-battle injuries while only about 110,000 died of combat injuries. Half of those deaths were caused by typhoid fever, diarrhea and other intestinal disorders with tuberculosis and pneumonia deaths following closely behind. Surgeons and commanders knew little about disease and the germ theory had not yet been discovered. Most of these young men had never been exposed to large populations living in close quarters that were often in filthy condition. Communicable disease outbreaks in the camps were commonplace.

Civil War soldiers line up for treatment of Ague[3]

 

As the New Year 1862 began, Oliver Case again faced a battle with disease but this time it was fought by two of his closest friends in the regiment. As evidenced by his letters, one of these two experiences with the monster of disease was likely his most impactful of the war outside of the combat at Antietam. In his letter of January 7, 1862, he describes it as “the most sorrowful time that I ever witnessed.” Henry D. Sexton and Duane Brown may have been pre-war friends of Oliver Case and his brothers but by the end of 1861, they had certainly become two of his closest friends. Oliver’s first mention of the two soldiers is in a letter to his sister on November 28, 1861:

I wrote to Ariel that Duane Brown and H.D. Sexton were sick at the hospital. I went to see them as soon as I heard of it, but could not get in where they were, but I looked in and saw their hall. I talked with one of Sexton’s friends who told me he was much better and expected to be around before long. The next day I succeeded in getting in where they were for a few moments. Brown is getting better also. Sexton was asleep. I heard from them Friday and presume by this time they are around. I should go to see them everyday…[4]

In Oliver’s letter of December 16, 1861, both Sexton and Brown seem to have recovered and sent respects to the Case family through Oliver. By the next mention of Brown and Sexton on the 30^th of December, the situation changed significantly for both soldiers. Oliver, continuing to convalesce from his most recent outbreak of Ague, boards the hospital ship preparing to transport the sick to the North Carolina coast with the rest of Burnside’s expeditionary force. According to Oliver, Sexton’s “jaundice…is much better” but he is also loaded aboard the hospital ship in Annapolis harbor to continue his recovery.

For Oliver’s friend Duane Brown, the report of his illness is not good. Oliver writes to his sister, Abbie, that Brown’s condition did not improve after his most recent discharge from the camp hospital. However, Duane Brown possesses a distrust of the doctor and the medicine prescribed to him because “he thought the Dr. would surely kill him.”[5] Finally, Oliver and his friends convince Brown to go to “Surgeon’s Call” so that the doctor can evaluate his condition:

…the Doctor questioned him very close and told him he had better go to the hospital. I saw him a few hours afterwards and he was broken out very thick with the measles. He has had a very bad cough ever since he was discharged before and it has gradually increased to such an extent that it was almost impossible to sleep where he was. He would raise nearly a quart of phlegm a day. He has kept nothing upon his stomach for some days and the medicine he got at the Dr, we could rarely make take. He would sit bent over the stove day after day not willing to take any medicine and complaining continually of the cold.[6]

Duane Brown is hit by a double attack of disease. Not only is he suffering from “consumption” the Civil War era term for tuberculosis, now he is one of the first cases in Company A of the 8^th Connecticut for an outbreak of measles in the camp. Oliver’s assessment of Duane’s condition is not bright:

I am afraid it will be a hard case. I have stated it just as it is and if you see any of his folks tell them just what you think best.[7]

It is notable that Oliver believes the desire or motivation to get well again is a significant factor in one’s ability to recovery from a disease. His observation of Brown’s behavior in the days following his discharge from the hospital lead Oliver to note that if Brown had “any ambition he would get well, or in fact would not be in the hospital now.”[8]

Meanwhile, the young soldiers’ commander, Major General Burnside is highly mission focused as the New Year begins. His purpose is to move as many troops as possible to the North Carolina coast to begin amphibious operations against the Confederates. Only those soldiers who have a good prognosis for full recovery within a few weeks are loaded onto the hospital ship. Among those men are Oliver Case and Henry Sexton. Both the assessment of the camp doctors and Oliver’s layman observation about Duane Brown seem correct as he is among those “those liable to be sick some time” who are sent “to the general hospital” in Annapolis.[9]

Oliver’s notation in his letter of January 7, 1862 seems almost cold and impersonal:

Duane Brown died and was buried yesterday.

But Oliver’s shortness is understandable as he stands in the midst of another battle with a friend. Later, in his letter to Abbie, he elaborates on Brown’s demise:

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.

The good care of the hospital at Annapolis is too little, too late to save the longsuffering Private Duane Brown of the 8^th Connecticut. Brown succumbs to the effects of disease on January 5, 1862. For his part, Oliver Case has little time to mourn the loss of his friend. Weeks later, Duane Brown will return to his mind as Oliver asks his sister, “How do Mr. Brown’s people take Duane’s death?”

On January 7^th of this new year, Oliver is fighting to save his other friend, Henry Sexton. Sexton, a former school teacher from Canton, Connecticut had enlisted for service on the 9^th of September 1861 then married another teacher from Canton, Eliza Barbour, only ten days later. The pre-war connection of the Case family with Sexton is unclear but based on the tone of Oliver’s letters, his two older brothers, Ariel and Alonzo, were friends with Henry.

Sexton suffers from the effects of a condition that Oliver refers to as “jaundice.” During the war, Union armies would suffer more than 71,691 reported cases of jaundice likely a manifestation of hepatitis.[10] Alonzo Case obviously suffered from a similar condition because Oliveer describes Henry as looking “much as I have seen Alonzo.” Sexton came aboard the hospital ship Recruit along with Oliver on the 29^th of December indicating his prospects for recovery seemed hopeful. However, Sexton’s health began to take a turn for the worse within a few days prompting Oliver to tell his sister that Henry “is on board quite sick with the jaundice…I do not believe he will go with us” on January 3, 1862.[11]

The life and death struggle of Henry Sexton would continue for four more days reaching its crescendo around noon on January 7^th. Oliver’s multipart letter of the same date provides great detail of his journey for the past three days as Sexton’s condition rapidly declined into unconsciousness, wild spasms, and, finally, to a peaceful death. I think it best to let Oliver recount the story as he did for Abbie:[12]

Since I last wrote you I have seen the most sorrowful time that I ever witnessed. Henry D. Sexton died this noon of jaundice. He came on board the boat the same time I did and bunked under me until day before yesterday.

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. 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.

The spasm made Henry Sexton into a wild man causing him to lose control of himself.

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. He never has had any care upon the boat from the Dr.

Oliver is appalled by the lack of medical care from the doctor on the ship even after repeated pleas to help.

He [doctor] 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. 

Henry Sexton’s melee with death has a profound impact on Oliver as he writes that he “never saw anything so horrible in my life.” Oliver continues:

I never felt so bad in my life as when I saw that here was no hopes of his recovery. It seemed as though I had lost the only friend I had with me.

The trauma of Henry’s death struggle coupled with the death of his other friend, Duane Brown, just two days before Sexton’s passing brought Oliver to a dark place where he felt completely alone. However, in spite of the painful experience with the deaths of his two friends, Oliver finds himself at peace with the passing of Henry Sexton:

Sexton died easy but unconscious…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.”

Physically and emotionally spent, Oliver is unable to write a letter to Henry’s wife informing her of the circumstances of her husband’s death relegating the task to a fellow soldier. In a letter to his sister, Oliver writes that he could not compose the letter so “I got another man to write to Sexton’s wife…” However, Case quickly adds that he “telegraphed this morning” presumably to Mrs. Sexton.

Eliza Naomi Barbour, Henry’s new wife, received the news of his illness in early January 1862 and departing Connecticut for Annapolis immediately. However, before she could reach Annapolis, Sexton died and was hastily buried likely due to the imminent departure of Burnside’s expedition. According to some local Annapolis historians, an area along West Street just outside of the downtown district was a possible temporary burial ground for the Union soldiers who died while Burnside encamped in the city. Today, no visible trace remains of any burial sites in this place. This location pre-dated the national cemetery later established further west of downtown. Due to the speedy exodus of Burnside’s forces, the temporary gravesites and remains may not have been marked to facilitate later removal and identification.

Modern-day Annapolis Visitor Center – Temporary burial site for Union soldiers was likely just west of this location

 

From the record of Oliver’s letters, it appears that Oliver was not present when Mrs. Sexton arrived in Annapolis or was not allowed to leave the ship. Although Oliver had telegraphed her soon after his death, it is likely that when Eliza Sexton came to the capital city of Maryland in search of her husband’s remains, it would have been a daunting task. With the departure of Burnside’s expedition only days before, the Union military presence in the city was greatly reduced and very little official assistance would have been available to Mrs. Sexton. When Mrs. Sexton arrived in Annapolis, the grave of her husband was not able to be located and she returned to Connecticut brokenhearted.[13]

Henry Sexton’s unidentified remains may have been relocated to the new national cemetery at a later date.

Annapolis National Cemetery: Could Henry Sexton’s unidentified remains rest here?

Henry’s wife and family would remember him through two memorials in the Canton Center Cemetery back in Connecticut.

Henry Sexton’s memorial marker in the Canton Center Cemetery.

Courtesy of John Banks Civil War Blog.

 

 

Henry Sexton is memorialized on his wife’s marker in the Canton Center Cemetery.

Courtesy of John Banks Civil War Blog.

 

Oliver Case sought to bring the saga to a close by returning Henry’s possessions to his home:

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.

The events of the first week of January 1862 would follow Oliver for the remaining months of his young life. The deaths of Duane Brown and Henry Sexton would find mention in several of Oliver’s letters of the next few months as he could never forget the tragic loss of his friends to begin the new year of 1862.

ENDNOTES:

[1] “Rudy’s List of Archaic Medical Terms: A Glossary of Archaic Medical Terms, Diseases and Causes of Death,” accessed from http://www.antiquusmorbus.com/Index.htm

[2] A Surgeon’s Civil War: The Letters and Diary of Daniel M. Holt, M.D., Daniel M. Holt, Kent State University Press, 1994.

[3] Hardtack and Coffee, John D. Billings, John M. Smith and Company, Boston, 1887.

[4] The Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case (Unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, CT, 1861-1862.

[5] IBID.

[6] IBID.

[7] IBID.

[8] IBID.

[9] IBID.

[10] Internal Medicine in Vietnam, Volume II, General Medicine and Infectious Diseases, Ognibene and Barrett, Office of the Surgeon General and Center of Military History United States Army, Washington, D.C., 1982, accessed from http://history.amedd.army.mil/booksdocs/vietnam/GenMedVN/ch18.html

[11] The Letters of Oliver Cromwell Case (Unpublished), Simsbury Historical Society, Simsbury, CT, 1861-1862.

[12] All the following quotes are from Oliver’s letter of January 7, 1862 unless otherwise noted.

[13] Reminiscences By Sylvester Barbour, A Native of Canton, Conn. and Fifty Years A Lawyer, Sylvester Barbour, 1908, Page 10