“Little Mac’s” Final Moments: The Death of George B. McClellan

Tonight, Billy Griffith takes a look at the final hours of George B. McClellan in his West Orange, New Jersey home

“The startling announcement was made on Thursday morning that General McClellan was dead,” read New Jersey’s The Orange Journal on Sunday, October 31, 1885, “…very few knew that General McClellan was in the least ill, and no one but his physician, perhaps, knew of the serious character of the disease that was afflicting him.” Less than a week before he had been seen riding in his carriage through West Orange in what was described as “the picture of perfect health.” Only days later, George Brinton McClellan, one of the Army of the Potomac’s most beloved and controversial generals was dead at the age of fifty-eight.[1]  

 

George B. McClellan, c. 1880

Several weeks earlier at the beginning of the month, McClellan began complaining of chest pains that were originally diagnosed as nothing more than the effects of dyspepsia. The ailment subsided until October 18, when he called upon his personal physician, a “Dr. Seward,” complaining of more pain in his heart region while preparing to depart for business in Boston. Concerned that symptoms of actual heart trouble were now developing, Dr. Seward ordered McClellan to return home and rest so further examinations could be conducted. There he remained, passing the time at home by “reading, writing and conversing, or enjoying a drive in his open carriage through [East and West Orange].” There were no flare-ups of pain during that week and a half, and it was believed that his condition was improving from the rest and “quiet of the country.” Then on Thursday, October 28, things took a turn for the worse.[2]

The following is a description of McClellan’s final hours reported by The Orange Journal:

     On Thursday evening … he was seized with pains in the region of his heart. The pain passed away and returned again with greater violence at 10 o’clock. At 11 o’clock Mrs. McClellan telephoned for Dr. Seward, and shortly after the Doctor received another telephone call requesting haste, and in thirteen minutes from the receipt of the first call, Dr. Seward was by the side of the sufferer. He was seated in his chair, and remedies were immediately applied which brought relief. The pains returned again, however, and Dr. Seward decided to remain with his patient. When the General felt better he was removed to his bed. The night was damp and foggy, and the windows were all closed, and the atmosphere of the room was somewhat heavy. A person with a heart trouble needs all the air possible, and the General was rather restless under the canopy which was adjusted over his bed to keep out mosquitoes. This may have produced a second paroxysm, for between two and three o’clock the pains returned, for the sufferer was removed to the chair. Mrs. McClellan and [their daughter] Miss [Mary “May”] McClellan were in the room the while, doing what they could. Restoratives were again administered, but the terrible pain only increased in violence, and at ten minutes to three o’clock, without a word of warning, the General placed his hand to his head, and gasping once fell back dead. So sudden was the off-taking that the family of Dr. [Randolph] Marcy were not summoned, and the only persons who were present when the General breathed his last were Mrs. McClellan and her daughter, Dr. Seward and two servants of the family.[3]

 As is with all famous deaths, last words were said to be muttered before McClellan expired: “I feel easy now. Thank you …” Whether this is true or not is beside the point, but it certainly adds a flare of the dramatic.[4]

 George McClellan’s sudden death can be attributed to coronary heart disease, or at least that is what the American Heart Association states that angina pectoris is predominantly caused by. Whether or not he suffered from chest pains prior to October 1885 is unknown, but it is quite possible that it may have been something he previously shrugged off until it became concerning and unbearable.[5]

The General’s funeral service was held in Manhattan at the Madison Square Presbyterian Church on Monday, November 1, 1885. At the request of Mary Ellen McClellan, the funeral “would be as quiet as possible, and there would be no military honors or display whatever.” Following the service, McClellan’s remains were taken to Trenton and interred in the Riverview Cemetery.[6]

Madison Square Presbyterian Church, c. 1903

A week following the passing of “Little Mac” the Monmouth Democrat published a heartfelt obituary to the deceased general. Their words remind us that despite what is felt by some regarding his tenure with the Army of the Potomac, he was a soldier, but above all he was a man – a husband, father, and friend who was loved by many:

Verily death has claimed a costly sacrifice – but death has not won, for General McClellan was an earnest and sincere follower of the great Conqueror of Death. The secret of his life – patient, quiet, gentle, trustful, loving – was his trust in the Redeemer of men … Soldier, patriot, statesman, scholar, Christian – all these he was, and with them all, a man! We knew him and to love him … There is a void in our hearts, a vacancy in our ranks.[7]     

[1] “Sudden End of a Useful and Distinguished Life,” The Orange Journal (West Orange, NJ), October 31, 1885.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Steven W. Sears, George B. McClellan: The Young Napoleon (New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1988), 400-401.

[5] American Heart Association, “Angina Pectoris (Stable Angina),” American Heart Association, http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/Conditions/HeartAttack/SymptomsDiagnosisofHeartAttack/Angina-Pectoris-Stable-Angina_UCM_437515_Article.jsp#.V3BZIWgrK00 (accessed 26 June 2016).

[6] “Sudden End to a Useful and Distinguished Life.”

[7] “Little Mac,” Monmouth Democrat (Monmouth, NJ), November 5, 1885.

 

“On many a bloody field”: The Forgotten Story of Daniel Davidson Bidwell

When I first became interested in the American Civil War at the age of 9, I was living in a small town in western New York sandwiched halfway between Buffalo and Rochester. I lived there under the false impression that in order to find Civil War history, I had to visit the battlefields across the Eastern, Western, and Trans-Mississippi theaters. Now transplanted to the eastern Panhandle of West Virginia and working in the heart of Mosby’s Confederacy, I have come to realize that my nine year old self could not have been further from the truth. Civil War history can be found almost anywhere you look, even if its miles away from the nearest battlefield. Go figure, as soon as I moved to West Virginia, I began discovering scores of stories regarding soldiers and civilians from western New York who played a role in the Civil War. One such story pertinent to today’s 151^st Anniversary of the Battle of Cedar Creek is that of Union general Daniel D. Bidwell.

http://www.buffaloah.com/h/bidwell/

Daniel Davidson Bidwell was born August 12, 1819 in Buffalo, New York. Initially slated to study law, Bidwell found more of a liking as a merchant. However, the bar continually called him back and the young Bidwell found himself working for the firm of his father and brother. Bidwell was elected as Buffalo’s Justice of the Peace and, several years later, the city’s residents voted him in as the Police Justice of Buffalo. Daniel proved to be a likeable magistrate, “stern and austere when occasion needed, but always with a hidden kindness looking out of the kindly eyes.” Perhaps Bidwell’s sternness and austerity suited him for well for his other calling in life, that of a military man, something that he endeared since his early childhood.

Bidwell joined the state militia as a private despite his high civilian rank. However, he eventually rose to command the company, which he organized independently before incorporating his company into the 74^th Regiment of the New York State National Guard. Soon, Bidwell was offered command of the regiment but he turned it down. A Buffalo newspaperman recalled years later that “the company into which he had drawn the best young manhood of Buffalo had grown into his life and become a part of himself. It was his pride, his pet—his military family, which he loved with father-like affection.” Bidwell took his position in the militia seriously, not as if it was an amateur gathering of armed men.

When the Civil War commenced, Daniel Bidwell became colonel of the 49^th New York Infantry in the summer of 1861. Bidwell’s soldiers learned quickly that he led by example: “He never hesitated to expose himself to more than the dangers of his regiment, in order to exhibit an inspiring example. His face was as calm, his bearing as cool, his mind as composed, his voice as steady, when he rode along the line through a storm of plunging shells or whistling bullets as it used to be when he led some harmless holiday parade.” This composure on the field of battle and the example he set for the soldiers under him greatly endeared the men of the 49^th New York to their colonel.

Daniel Bidwell led his 49^th New York through the war’s early campaigns and by May 1863 had risen to command (in an on and off manner) the 3^rd Brigade, 2^nd Division, 6^th Corps. His first full action as brigade commander came during the Battle of the Wilderness. There, on May 6, 1864, during the Confederate assault on the Army of the Potomac’s right flank, Bidwell’s brigade stopped the thus far successful Southern onslaught. “His was the form, on that portentous evening, that sat, among the bullets, upon his horse, in the language of General [John] Sedgwick, ‘like a man of iron,’ coolly directing the movements which repulsed the enemy, gave us back the field and saved the whole Army of the Potomac from disaster,” wrote a newspaper correspondent who witnessed the scene. The account may be slightly exaggerated, but Bidwell’s importance in stopping the attack and his bravery during the fight are two points well illustrated by this quote.

Throughout the spring and summer of 1864, Bidwell continued to lead his brigade. He next appears at another critical juncture in the war when Confederate forces under Jubal Early approached the gates of Washington. During the fighting at Fort Stevens on July 12, 1864, Bidwell’s brigade assaulted Early’s force, driving it back away from the fort. In the brigade, all of Bidwell’s five regimental officers were casualties of the fight and his brigade of roughly 1,000 men suffered 35.8% casualties.

Daniel Bidwell and the men under his command seemed to have a knack for being placed in crucial positions throughout the bloody battles of 1864. October 19, 1864 proved to be no exception. As the sun rose on that autumn morning, Confederate forces—again under Early—attacked, surprised, and routed elements of Philip Sheridan’s Army of the Shenandoah camped north of Cedar Creek. As Sheridan’s army folded underneath the punishing attacks, the Federal 6^th Corps moved forward to stymie the onslaught. Two divisions advanced into the fight while George Getty’s 2^nd Division, including Bidwell’s brigade, fell into their rear as support and to hold the high ground where sat the Middletown Cemetery. Bidwell’s brigade held the left flank of Getty’s formation.

View from Middletown Cemetery near the position of Bidwell’s brigade (author’s collection)

At 8 a.m., the first of what turned out to be three separate Confederate attacks against Getty’s position began. The 6^th Corps soldiers “cooly [sic] held their fire until the enemy was close upon them, then delivered it in their very faces, and tumbled the shattered ranks down the hill….” As the rebels reformed for another push, they brought up artillery that began to hammer the Federal position. The Confederates doggedly came on again and again, finally forcing Bidwell’s brigade and the Vermonters to their right to slowly give up their ground one backward step at a time.

During the fight atop the hill, “General Bidwell sat erect on his horse, a few paces behind his prostrate brigade, as cool as though the storm of fire and death was not playing around him,” noted an admirer. As Bidwell’s men slowly began to give ground to their enemy, Bidwell and the officers of his brigade “at once restored the courage of the men, and they gave and took without further flinching, though the struggle was deadly.” Suddenly, a shell exploded amidst Bidwell’s troops and as Bidwell looked in that direction to see its effect, another shell “tore through his shoulders and lungs, bringing him heavily to the ground” in a state of unconsciousness. Bidwell let out one groan while his horse “stood still, as though it had not felt the emptying of its saddle.”

Apparently, the physically imposing Bidwell had gained consciousness when a surgeon came up to the prostrate man. “Doctor, I suppose there is no hope for recovery,” he said. The surgeon could not lie, knowing the wound to be mortal. “Oh, my poor wife,” Bidwell cried. Then, summoning strength, Bidwell told the surgeon, “Doctor, see that my record is right at home. Tell them I died at my post doing my duty.” Daniel Davidson Bidwell died several hours later after enduring “intense suffering” according to the surgeon.

Getty’s division and Bidwell’s brigade were finally forced from their positions following a thirty minute artillery bombardment from approximately 20 Confederate guns. Including their fallen general, Bidwell’s brigade lost 37 men killed, 172 wounded, and 16 captured or missing for a total of 225 casualties. George Getty’s stand had been instrumental in slowing the Confederate attack and proved key to the Union victory at Cedar Creek. Bidwell’s death did not help Getty’s division in any way, with one historian of the battle going so far as to say that “Bidwell’s death at a critical moment threatened to change the outcome of the Battle of Cedar Creek.” Getty’s and Bidwell’s and Sheridan’s men prevailed however and the telegraph dispatches sent to Buffalo “laden with victory to our arms…also brought the sad intelligence” of Bidwell’s death.

Daniel Bidwell’s remains were conveyed back to Buffalo five days after his death. The city’s mayor William George Fargo set the City Council room aside so that Bidwell’s remains could lie in state until his funeral. In a memorial to the City Council, Fargo wrote these fitting words about Bidwell:

Among the names of Buffalonians rendered historic by the war, none will occupy a higher place on the scroll of fame than the late General Bidwell. Leaving an important position of civil trust to do battle for the cause of the Union, devotedly and unostentatiously discharging his duty on many a bloody field, loved by his soldiers and commanding the confidence of his superior officers, promoted from the rank of colonel to that of general for gallant conduct, he has at last sealed his devotion to his country with his life. As a citizen he had won the regard of the community by his amiability and his correct deportment; as a soldier, he has given proof of these qualities of mind and heart, that unfaltering courage and iron will, which entitle him to the highest honors that a grateful and sorrowing people can bestow. It is becoming that the municipal government should testify to its respect for the memory of one who has died that the Nation may live.

Fargo may have spoken words that became more true than even he might have imagined. Bidwell Place in Buffalo bears a monument of the general atop a horse while three monuments to the general—including his gravestone—sit in Forest Lawn Cemetery in Buffalo where he rests. Before Bidwell died, his supposed last words were, “I have tried to do my duty.” In both civilian and military life, no one would have believed that Bidwell failed to do what his city and country always demanded of him. The next time I go home to western New York, I think you know where I will be visiting.

Bidwell Monument in Bidwell Place (http://www.buffaloah.com/h/bidwell/)

Bidwell Urn in Forest Lawn Cemetery (http://www.buffaloah.com/h/bidwell/)

Bidwell Monument in Forest Lawn Cemetery (http://www.buffaloah.com/h/bidwell/)

The final resting place of Daniel Bidwell (http://www.buffaloah.com/h/bidwell/)

Works Cited

http://www.buffaloah.com/h/bidwell/

https://books.google.com/books?id=Hk8_AQAAMAAJ&pg=PA44&lpg=PA44&dq=bidwell+cedar+creek&source=bl&ots=j350eSRkha&sig=G4KV–NaUq_PuyGmLsr4Km0VGYM&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0CCEQ6AEwAjgKahUKEwj0vruu8s7IAhUDMYgKHdYaBvg#v=onepage&q=bidwell%20cedar%20creek&f=false

http://localhistory.morrisville.edu/sites/unitinfo/bidwell.html

The Life of General Daniel Davidson Bidwell

Civil War High Commands

The Guns of Cedar Creek

Self-Guided Tour, The Battle of Cedar Creek

OR vol. 43, pt. 1

Jubal Early’s Raid on Washington

“Written in Blood”: Col. George Lamb Willard at Gettysburg, July 2, 1863

Far from the road and far from the eyes of anyone except the few peering into the distant thicket to catch a glimpse, a simple, humble monument sits along the banks of the stagnant Plum Run on the Gettysburg battlefield, scene of a vicious fight on one of the Civil War’s crucial days: July 2, 1863. It marks the spot where one of Gettysburg’s forgotten heroes met an untimely death.

George Lamb Willard was born and raised in New York City on August 15, 1827. From a young age, Willard “evinced a preference for the military profession” and sought an appointment either as a midshipman in the Navy or an appointment to West Point. Believing business suited him better, Willard’s friends and family sent him to Ohio. But before he was 20, Willard enlisted in the United States Army at the outbreak of the Mexican War, where he rose to the rank of Sergeant in the 8^th United States Infantry. Cited for gallantry during the storming of Chapultepec, Willard remained in the army following the war and was a captain by the time hostilities erupted between North and South.

Initially declining to resign his commission with the Regular Army early in the war—where Willard was brevetted a Lt. Col. during his service in the Peninsula Campaign—Willard accepted the colonelcy of the 125^th New York following his 35^th birthday in August 1862. New to war, the 125^th New York became trapped in Harpers Ferry during the garrison’s capitulation to Stonewall Jackson in September 1862, earning them—and the rest of the brigade—the inglorious nickname of the “Harpers Ferry Cowards.”

During the second Confederate invasion of the North in June and July 1863, the brigade of “cowards”—the 39^th, 111^th, 125^th, and 126^th New York—was now led by George Willard. At the height of the Confederate attack launched against the southern end of the Federal line at Gettysburg on July 2, Union generals called upon Willard and his men to advance headlong into the jaws of the advancing Southerners west of Cemetery Ridge to stop or slow the sea of attackers, who greatly outnumbered the Union soldiers working to patch together a defensive line.

Willard’s 1,500 infantry charged into what one member of the brigade called a “constant rain of missiles….” “Remember Harpers Ferry,” the men screamed as they closed in on the gray clad soldiers to their front. Driving the Confederates through the Plum Run thicket downhill from Cemetery Ridge’s crest, the “cowards” continued driving the rebels in front of them. Suddenly, Confederate artillery fire stopped the pursuit cold, and Willard ordered his men to fall back to safer ground. Once the New Yorkers returned to Plum Run, an artillery shell tore away most of George Willard’s face; he was dead before he hit the ground.

Willard’s body returned to his wife’s home in Troy, New York, where the fallen colonel rests today. “As an officer he held a high reputation; as a citizen he was universally esteemed and beloved,” an obituary noted. Willard’s Brigade lost 47.3% of the men they carried into the fight at Gettysburg (these casualties include the fighting on both July 2 and 3). A superior officer wrote of their actions: “The history of this brigade’s operations is written in blood” and “the acts of traitors at Harper’s Ferry had not stained their [the men of Willard’s Brigade] patriotism.”

Though oft forgotten today, Willard’s and his men’s contributions to the Union victory at Gettysburg should not be overlooked. Next time you have the opportunity to walk that hallowed ground, take some time to find the monument to Willard, who “died as a true soldier and a martyr to this cruel rebellion.”

Saratoga and a Few Words From GTR History

The Battles of Saratoga and Burgoyne’s Surrender: A Brief Overview

Despite the colonists declaring themselves separated from the English Crown during the summer of 1776, American independence was anything but a certainty. In order to secure their freedom, battlefield victories would have to be won against the armies of King George III throughout the colonies. The “winter soldiers” of George Washington’s Continental Army had miraculously defeated a regiment of Hessians at Trenton, New Jersey the day after Christmas 1776, and as the New Year began, obtained two more victories at Assunpink Creek and Princeton. While these engagements may have salvaged the American cause following a summer in which New York was lost to the British, independence was still far from secured. The war took a turn for the worse during the summer and fall of 1777 for Washington and his army when a string of defeats resulted in the British capture of Philadelphia. Once again the American cause for independence appeared bleak.

Across the Atlantic Ocean in Paris, Louis XVI watched and waited for a decisive American victory that would give credence for France to declare war on their age-old enemy, England, and recognize the United States as a sovereign nation. That battlefield victory would not come from along Brandywine Creek or Germantown in Pennsylvania. Instead, His Most Christian Majesty would have to look north to New York, where a British army under Major General John Burgoyne was moving south from Canada. There, another American force, the Northern Department, under the command of recently appointed Major General Horatio Gates, made preparations to meet “Gentlemen Johnny’s” invading army.

Maj. Gen. John Burgoyne

Burgoyne’s advance down the Lake Champlain-Lake George-Hudson River corridor in New York was part of William Howe’s (Commander-in-Chief of His Majesty’s Forces in the Colonies) plan to unite his own army, Burgoyne’s, and Henry Clinton’s near Albany in an effort to sever the northern colonies from the middle and southern colonies. However, Howe changed his plans and decided to move in Philadelphia, leaving Burgoyne on his own to face Gates with the sole hope that Clinton could still link up with his army at Albany.

Maj. Gen. Horatio Gates

John Burgoyne’s army, moving southward with Albany as their main objective, rolled over all American resistance that lay before them until meeting Horatio Gates’s army along the Hudson River south of Saratoga. For two days, September 19 and October 7, a desperate battle raged between the two armies over open fields and entrenched positions. The first day of fighting ended in a tactical victory for Burgoyne who was determined to push forward and drive Gates and his men from their earthworks atop a prominence known as Bemis Heights on the seventh in order to break through to Albany with his 6,000 or so men. That breakthrough never occurred. His army’s initial attack on the second day of fighting was thrown back by the Northern Army’s overwhelming numbers and forced to fallback to a defensive line of redoubts. With the momentum in the Americans’ favor, a dramatic charge was led by Brigadier General Benedict Arnold (not yet a traitor) who was left without a command after being relieved of his duties by General Gates resulting from an argument between the two officers following the battle on September 19. Arnold (the true hero of the battle) was wounded when a musket ball smashed through his leg, breaking it, but his charge was a success and the British were driven from the field and forced to retreat north to Saratoga. In full pursuit of their foe, Gates’s army besieged Burgoyne and his force until the general was obligated to discuss terms of surrender with the Americans. On October 17, 1777, Major General John Burgoyne and his army of nearly 6,000 men surrendered. Gates’s terms were generous. He would allow the British to go freely as long as they promised not to take up arms again in North America. The Continental Congress refused to approve the terms and the newly captured prisoners were sent to prison camps throughout the colonies.

Brig. Gen. Benedict Arnold

The Battles of Saratoga and Burgoyne’s subsequent surrender turned the tide of the American Revolutionary War and changed world history. Louis XVI got the American victory he desired and declared France’s recognition of the United States and a military and trade alliance that without, the goal of independence may never have been achieved. Benedict Arnold, who actually led troops in the field that October – unlike Horatio Gates – received no credit in any of the commanding general’s after action reports and never obtained the glory he so earnestly desired. The battle, quite possibly the most triumphant day of his life, along with other influences pushed him into the arms of treason.

A Few Words From GTR History

On this date in 1777, an army of over 5,000 British soldiers under the command of Major General John Burgoyne surrendered to Major General Horatio Gates at Saratoga, NY. This event, a decisive military victory, turned the tide of the American Revolutionary War and changed the world forever. Presented with the necessary battlefield victory needed to justify entering another war with England, Louis XVI of France pledged his support to the United States and their struggle for independence. Without the aid of his military and economic support it is quite possible that a complete victory over the British in America may not have been possible.

Burgoyne’s Surrender, October 17,1777

Important anniversaries like the one today always bring about moments of observation and reflection regarding the sacrifice of those who have come before us and how far we have come as a people. “If this is our heritage,” historian Howard Peckham proclaims in his short history The War for Independence, “it is important to know what it cost, for then we shall remember how highly it was valued by those who secured it.” Even we, as students of the past who devote all of their time and passion into studying our forefathers, cannot truly understand what these men and women endured and sacrificed unless we have experienced something so turbulent and as trying as them. What we can take away from studying and remembering history however, is what we as a people are capable of when our livelihoods are threatened or our will is tested. The stories of the past can teach us what we as humans can do – the evils that may lie below our skin or the greatness that we hold deep inside.

Our independence was declared by educated men in positions of power and respect, but it was secured by the common men and women of this country who paid for it with their lives. This is what we are capable of as a people. This is what we are capable of as Americans. From the first shots at Lexington and Concord in 1775 to the surrender of Charles Cornwallis’s army at Yorktown in 1781, we stood toe to toe with the greatest military in the world and emerged from the chaos of war victoriously as an independent nation. It is hard to find a better example in history of what people are capable of when they cherish their beliefs and ideals so dearly and are willing to give up their very lives for something greater than themselves. History is inspirational. History is that fictional story with heroes larger than life that we all know – except history is real.

Today, October 17, 2015, think back and reflect on what these people of the past mean to you. Consider the hardships they endured and sacrifices that they made and contemplate the selflessness of their actions. The men and women who laid down their lives for the cause of liberty did so with the hope that one day we would be free, not just themselves. We live their victory over tyranny every day. For that we should be ever grateful. History is not just words printed on the pages of an old book sitting on a shelf. It is our story, and every day we continue to write it.

Linear Style Warfare in the 18th Century: Military Innovation or Stupidity?

To the common individual who does not study military history, the idea of men in the 18^th century marching shoulder-to-shoulder in perfect lines of battle, moving as closely as possible to their foe, leveling their muskets in concert and unleashing devastating volleys of lead into their opponent’s ranks – all the while standing firm waiting to receive fire from across the field – seems idiotic or even suicidal. However, what the general public does not understand is that the concept of linear style warfare was instituted to fully maximize the effectiveness of the weapons of the era, not to get as many men killed in your own army as possible.

The standard issue weapon of all major armies during the colonial expansion era was the flintlock smoothbore musket. For over a century the English army utilized the King’s Land Pattern Musket or “Brown Bess”, a massive .75 smoothbore weapon that packed a punch greater than many of its contemporary counterparts and won a substantial amount of victories for the royal Hanoverian family on battlefields throughout the world. Firing a .69 lead musket ball at a velocity of roughly 1000 feet per second – much slower compared to modern day firearms – the Brown Bess was a vicious killing machine. However, because the inside of the barrel was completely smooth and not rifled, and due to the fact that the projectile was not conical in shape, the weapon was only accurate at about fifty yards. The inaccuracy of the period’s firearms is why armies utilized linear style tactics on open fields of battle.

1756 British Land Pattern Musket

To maximize the effectiveness of smoothbore weapons, soldiers marched shoulder-to-shoulder in lines of battle to distances between 40-60 yards away from their enemy before leveling their weapons all at once and unleashing a volley of musketry. This concept and idea was far from idiotic like most believe. The weapons of the era were not necessarily meant to be fired accurately individually, but en masse. There was a much better chance of hitting a target if several hundred muzzles were aimed in its direction opposed to just one. Compact lines of battle created a literal wall of lead when the soldiers’ weapons were discharged.

Battle of Quebec, 1759. The British and French Fought in Lines of Battle for Fifteen Minutes before the French were Swept from the Field by a Bayonet Charge

Every army had their own methods of linear style combat. During the Seven Years’ War (French and Indian War in North America) the French army tended to deploy their battalions – numbers ranged between 500-1000 men – into four lines, creating a frontage of roughly 162 men or so. Their British adversaries chose to deploy their units two or three ranks deep, which arguably gave them an advantage because they fought with a wider front producing a longer line of fire.

The professionally trained European soldier of the 18^th century carrying a flintlock musket could load and fire his weapon three to four times per minute – a tremendous rate for a muzzle-loading weapon. When engaging the enemy in an open field and fighting in the linear style, the idea was to fire two or three volleys into the enemy’s ranks, confusing and staggering them. If it was evident that the opponent’s men were indeed in a state of panic, then the order would be given by officers to fix bayonets. Wielding these long steel sword-like weapons at the tip of the musket’s muzzle, the battalions would then slowly march (not run like mad men) towards the enemy and quite literally sweep them off of the field, claiming victory for their respective monarch. If the opposing line chose to stand firm and receive the charge, then hand-to-hand combat would ensue for possession of the battlefield.

British Regulars Advance in Perfect Lines of Battle at Breed’s Hill, 1775

Well into the 18^th century, as smoothbore weapons still served as the predominant design for the world’s militaries, linear style warfare was constantly utilized in open fields of battle. Eventually technology outpaced military tactics when the rifle was invented and became the weapon of choice. Effective at much greater distances, rifled muskets made war even bloodier. Still using linear style tactics in the 1860s, American Civil War armies found this out the hard way. Eventually lines of battle would become obsolete, and trench warfare became the favored way of war. Even during the French and Indian War it became evident that European linear tactics could not serve its desired purpose in the vast wilderness of North America. A new style of fighting took shape – irregular or guerilla tactics. This method entailed broken ranks moving forward, utilizing terrain features, rocks and trees, and anything that could provide cover and shield one’s position from the enemy. Many provincial (colonial) and militia units fought in this style that had been utilized by the Native Americans for centuries, and the British even formed Light Infantry companies to fight in this manner.

Soldiers of the 18^th century were not idiotic and they certainly did not have a “death wish” by fighting in compact lines of battle. These were some of the most disciplined and vigorously trained soldiers that the world has ever seen and they fought with courage and resiliency for King and country. Linear style combat was a military innovation that was meant to maximize the effectiveness of the era’s weapon technology, and it proved efficient on countless battlefields throughout the world, winning North America for one empire, and independence for a new American nation.

British Military Campaigns and Strategy in North America, 1755: An Overview

Tonight, Billy Griffith takes a look at the first full year of conflict during the French and Indian War in North America and England’s military objectives for 1755.  

By year’s end in 1755 the perils of war had blanketed the North American landscape as the battle for the continent raged between England and France. The opening years of conflict in what would come to be known as the French and Indian War were fought during a time of peace between the two mighty European powers in which no declaration of war would be announced until 1756. However, King George II and Louis XV had assembled the largest armies ever seen on the North American continent up to that time to defend and expand their respective colonial possessions. These measures were far from peaceful, and it was evident that after blood had been spilled in New York, Pennsylvania, and Nova Scotia, a declared war was inevitable.

The story of the campaigns of 1755 begins the previous year when tension in the Ohio River Valley boiled over, precipitating armed conflict. Colonial expansion (England moving west, France moving south) forced these two super powers on a collision course that culminated in May 1754 when a detachment of Virginians under the command of George Washington fired on a party of French colonial troops that were on a “diplomatic” mission to order all Englishmen out of the Ohio River Valley. These were the first shots fired in what eventually evolved into the French and Indian War. Although the only territory disputed over in 1754 was the land surrounding present day Pittsburgh, by the following year England’s eyes turned to French military strongholds in Nova Scotia, the Great Lakes region, and upstate New York.

The plan orchestrated by England’s Captain General, the Duke of Cumberland (George II’s son), for 1755 was to be carried out on four fronts in order to counter all of France’s military gains the previous year. Placed in command of the British regular troops being sent to the colonies, as well as the colonial provincial units then being raised for the coming campaigns, was Major General Edward Braddock. Meeting in Alexandria, Virginia in April with the royal governors of Maryland (Horatio Sharpe), Massachusetts (William Shirley), New York (James De Lancey), Pennsylvania (Robert Morris), and Virginia (Robert Dinwiddie), Braddock laid out Cumberland’s plans and what was to be expected of the colonies taking part in the various expeditions. Also present at the conference was William Johnson of New York, who was personally appointed by the general as Superintendent of Indian Affairs.

Maj. Gen. Edward Braddock

William Johnson was given command of the provincial force that was to move north from Albany, NY and capture the French stronghold at Crown Point astride Lake Champlain. Using his close ties with the Iroquois, it fell upon his shoulders to muster Native American support and recruit warriors for his expedition as well as William Shirley’s thrust against Fort Niagara at the southwestern tip of Lake Ontario. A clash of personality and interests between the two men would eventually lead to Shirley being denied of Indian support for his offensive and Johnson obtaining all that was offered.

William Johnson

Along with these two armies moving through New York, efforts to secure the Chignecto Isthmus in Nova Scotia by capturing Fort Beausejour, as well as a major push to take Fort Duquesne at the Forks of the Ohio River were also formulated. Robert Monckton was given overall command of the force that would advance from New England and capture Beausejour, and Edward Braddock himself would lead a large 2,400 man army of regulars and provincials that would oust the French from the Ohio River Valley. Upon capturing Duquesne, Braddock was then set to move north and link up with Shirley to assist in the capture of Fort Niagara. On paper the plan appeared clear and simple, and the men believed all the objectives could be taken with ease. By winter 1755, North America should belong to George II.

More times than none, plans that appear perfect on paper are hardly ever executed properly. This was the case for England’s grand scheme to capture the continent in 1755 before a large scale conflict with France could be forced upon them. On July 9, Braddock’s force made it to within several miles of the French at Fort Duquesne before it was attacked and defeated, suffering nearly 900 casualties, including the general who suffered a mortal wound. He later died during his army’s retreat to Fort Cumberland, Maryland four days later. By the end of the month, Colonel Thomas Dunbar, Braddock’s successor, had his men marching eastward towards Philadelphia where they would enter winter quarters in the middle of summer.

Battle of the Monongahela

With Edward Braddock’s demise, William Shirley was elevated to the position of Commander-in-Chief. Mourning the loss of his son, who served as a secretary to Braddock and was killed during the fighting along the Monongahela River, he was given the task of trying to avoid another disaster. Good news arrived from Nova Scotia later that summer as Monckton reported that his expedition had been a success. Forts Beausejour and Gaspereau had fallen and the Chignecto Isthmus was secure. This British victory the in part led to the first ever ethnic cleansing to occur in the modern world. Thousands of French Acadians were deported out of the country to prevent any possible uprisings that might hinder British colonial expansion and military efforts against New France.

Lt. Col. Robert Monckton

The victory in Nova Scotia was the only successfully executed expedition of the four-pronged movement against the French in North America. Although Shirley and Johnson would not meet any sort of  battlefield defeat in their efforts, Monckton’s campaign was the only one that captured its main objective.

Arriving at Fort Oswego at the southeastern corner of Lake Ontario, William Shirley was determined to repair and strengthen the old fortification before advancing any further. His time spent there went by wasted as he just simply could not get his army properly supplied or moving to capture Fort Niagara. He returned east to New York City and left his army at Oswego hoping to resume the offensive the following summer. As William Shirley failed to capture Fort Niagara, so too did William Johnson fail to capture Crown Point. However, Johnson’s army was able to secure the southern end of Lake George and defend New York from a French advance into the colony’s interior.

William Shirley

Among the dead and dying of Braddock’s command along the Monongahela River in July 1755, wagons filled with the general’s personal and official military correspondence were captured by the French-Canadians and their Native allies. Within these papers were the plans for the British offensives against New France. Freshly arrived from France and now having the knowledge of his enemy’s intentions, Jean Armand, Baron de Dieskau, the newly appointed General-in-Chief of regular troops in the colonies, sought to move against Johnson’s force south of Lake George from Crown Point, and then move west to deal with Shirley. On September 8, 1755, roughly three thousand British and French troops clashed south of and at the base of Lake George. When the day finally came to an end, Dieskau’s army had been repulsed and was sent retreating north towards Ticonderoga. With the southern shore of the lake now securely in British hands, Johnson’s army began construction of what would become Fort William Henry. Had Dieskau succeeded in dislodging Johnson’s men from the lake, it is quite possible that he could then have overrun Fort Lymann (Edward) fourteen miles to the south, and then marched his victorious army against Albany where he could have captured a major supply base and cut New England off from the rest of the colonies.

Battle of Lake George, September 8, 1755

Even though Johnson failed to capture his objective, he still claimed a victory for England in a year of military disasters. Braddock was dead and his army mauled by the French outside Duquesne; Shirley was bogged down at Oswego and refused to go any further; Johnson was recovering from a wound received at Lake George while his army erected defenses; and Monckton’s men were deporting Acadians following their sole victory. Britain had failed to expel the French from North America before a full-scale war could be declared. As tension grew in Europe over alliances and territorial possessions, the world went to war in May 1756. Ultimate control of North America would be determined by how much attention could be placed on defending the British colonies and New France without risking defeat elsewhere throughout the world’s battlefronts.

“It is my father!”: Francis Halkett Travels to the Monongahela Battlefield

Tonight, we take a look at the very sombering story of Major Francis Halkett’s journey to the 1755 site of Edward Braddock’s defeat along the banks of the Monongahela River.

On July 9, 1755, 1,400 British Regulars and Colonial Provincials were attacked en route to capture Fort Duquesne by a contingent of French-Canadians and their Native American allies. In what became known as Braddock’s Defeat or the Battle of the Monongahela, nearly 900 members of the expedition were either killed, wounded, captured, or declared missing come nightfall as the mortally wounded Edward Braddock and what was left of his force limped back to Fort Cumberland. Among the dead left behind were the commanding officer of the 44th Regiment of Foot, Colonel Peter Halkett, and his son James who served as a lieutenant in his father’s unit. Amidst the chaos of combat the elder Halkett was gunned down by a concealed Indian and immediately his son rushed to his aid only to meet the same fate. They were two of sixty-three commissioned officers with Braddock to become casualties that tragic day.

Sir Peter Halkett

Three years later another British force moved into the Ohio country to accomplish what Braddock could not. Under the overall command of General John Forbes, His Majesty’s forces were able to force the French out of Fort Duquesne and eventually out of the Ohio River Valley. Accompanying this expedition was another son of Colonel Halkett. Major Francis Halkett, attached to the 42nd Regiment of Foot, made it his mission to locate the site of his father and brother’s deaths to ascertain their fates. With a group of Native American guides, officers of his own regiment, and a company of Pennsylvania riflemen, Major Halkett returned to the battlefield. An account of the party’s search can be found in Winthrop Sargent’s The History of an Expedition Against Fort Du Quesne:

“Captain West [commanding the Pennsylvanians] and his companions proceeded through the woods and along the banks of the river, towards the scene of the battle. The Indians [many of whom had served with the French against Braddock] regarded the expedition as a religious rite, and guided the troops with awe and in profound silence. The soldiers were affected with sentiments not less serious, and they explored the bewildering labyrinths of those vast forests, their hearts were often melted with inexpressible sorrow; for they frequently found skeletons lying across the trunks of fallen trees – a mournful proof of their imaginations that the men who sat there had perished of hunger, in vainly attempting to find their way to the plantations. Sometimes their feelings were raised to the utmost pitch of horror by the sight of bones and skulls scattered on the ground – a certain indication that the bodies had been devoured by wild beasts; and in other places they saw the blackness of ashes among the relics – the tremendous evidence of atrocious rites … In reply to his [Halkett’s] anxious questions, one of his tawny guides had already told Halkett, that he recollected during the combat to have seen an officer fall beneath such a remarkable tree as he should have no difficulty in recognizing; and that at the same moment another rushing to his side was instantly shot down, and fell across his comrade’s body. As they drew near the spot, the detachment was halted, and the Indians peered about through the tree to recall their memories of the scene. With speaking gesture, they briefly discoursed in their own tongue. Suddenly and with a shrill cry, the Indian of whom we have spoken sprang to the well-remembered tree. While the troops rested on their arms in a circle around, he and his companions searched among the thick-fallen leaves. In a moment two gaunt skeletons were exposed lying together, the one upon the other, as they had died. The hand that tore away their scalps had not disturbed their position; but no sign remained to distinguish the relics from the hundred others that strewed the ground. At the moment Sir Peter [Francis] remembered him of a peculiar artificial tooth which his father bore. The bones were then separated, and an examination of those which lay undermost at once solved all doubts. ‘It is my father!’ exclaimed the unhappy youth, as he sunk into the arms of his scarce less affected friends … Brief and stern , as befits a soldier buried upon the battlefield, were the rites that followed. Wrapped in a Highland plaid, the twain who “in death were not divided,” were interred in a common grave. In lieu of solemn dirges and the passing bell, the rattling sounds of musketry awoke the long-slumbering echoes of the mountains as the customary volleys were fired above their breasts. As the chasm was being closed, a stone was brought from the hill-side and placed within its mouth.”[1]

As we are now amidst the 260th anniversary of Braddock’s march to Fort Duquesne, GTR History will be covering a wide variety of subjects regarding the expedition and the campaigns of 1755 in North America – all part of what was then an undeclared war between England and France that would ultimately decide the fate of the continent.

[1] Winthrop Sargent, The History of an Expedition Against Fort Du Quesne in 1755 (Philadelphia: Lippincott, Grebo & Co., for the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, 1856), 275-276.

 

“The Spirit Fled to God Who Gave It”–Dr. Charles Leale’s Report on the Death of Abraham Lincoln

Tonight, at approximately 10:15 pm, the actor John Wilkes Booth put a bullet into the back of President Abraham Lincoln’s head at Ford’s Theater during the showing of “Our American Cousin.” Dr. Charles A. Leale, a twenty-three year old doctor who only received his degree six weeks earlier, was the first medical professional to attend to the mortally wounded President. Throughout the death vigil that lasted some nine hours, Leale remained by the President’s side holding his hand, to, as he later said, “let [Lincoln] know, in his blindness, that he had a friend.”

Below is Leale’s first report of his actions on the night of April 14, 1865. It was discovered by The Papers of Abraham Lincoln (http://www.papersofabrahamlincoln.org/) in the National Archives.

Dr. Charles Leale

Having been the first of our profession who arrived to the assistance of our late President, and having been requested by Mrs. Lincoln to do what I could for him I assumed the charge until the Surgeon General and Dr Stone his family physician arrived, which was about 20 minutes after we had placed him in bed in the house of Mr. Peterson opposite the theatre, and as I remained with him until his death, I humbly submit the following brief account.

I arrived at Fords Theatre about 8¼ p.m. April 14/65 and procured a seat in the dress circle about 40 feet from the Presidents Box. The play was then progressing and in a few minutes I saw the President, Mrs Lincoln, Major Rathbone and Miss Harris enter; while proceeding to the Box they were seen by the audience who cheered which was reciprocated by the President and Mrs Lincoln by a smile and bow.

The party was preceded by an attendant who after opening the door of the box and closing it after they had all entered, took a seat nearby for himself.

The theatre was well filled and the play of “Our American Cousin” progressed very pleasantly until about half past ten, when the report of a pistol was distinctly heard and about a minute after a man of low stature with black hair and eyes was seen leaping to the stage beneath, holding in his hand a drawn dagger.

While descending his heel got entangled in the American flag, which was hung in front of the box, causing him to stumble when he struck the stage, but with a single bound he regained the use of his limbs and ran to the opposite side of the stage, flourishing in his hand a drawn dagger and disappearing behind the scene.

I then heard cries that the “President had been murdered,” which were followed by those of “Kill the murderer” “Shoot him” etc, which came from different parts of the audience.

I immediately ran to the Presidents box and as soon as the door was opened was admitted and introduced to Mrs. Lincoln when she exclaimed several times, “O Doctor, do what you can for him, do what you can”! I told her we would do all that we possibly could.

When I entered the box the ladies were very much excited.[26] Mr. Lincoln was seated in a high backed arm-chair with his head leaning towards his right side supported by Mrs. Lincoln who was weeping bitterly. Miss Harris was near her left and behind the President.

While approaching the President I sent a gentleman for brandy and another for water.

When I reached the President he was in a state of general paralysis, his eyes were closed and he was in a profoundly comatose condition, while his breathing was intermittent and exceedingly stertorous. I placed my finger on his right radial pulse but could perceive no movement of the artery. As two gentlemen now arrived, I requested them to assist me to place him in a recumbent position, and as I held his head and shoulders, while doing this my hand came in contact with a clot of blood near his left shoulder.

Supposing that he had been stabbed there I asked a gentleman to cut his coat and shirt off from that part, to enable me if possible to check the hemorrhage which I supposed took place from the subclavian artery or some of its branches.

Before they had proceeded as far as the elbow I commenced to examine his head (as no wound near the shoulder was found) and soon passed my fingers over a large firm clot of blood situated about one inch below the superior curved line of the occipital bone.

The coagula I easily removed and passed the little finger of my left hand through the perfectly smooth opening made by the ball, and found that it had entered the encephalon.

As soon as I removed my finger a slight oozing of blood followed and his breathing became more regular and less stertorous. The brandy and water now arrived and a small quantity was placed in his mouth, which passed into his stomach where it was retained.

Dr. C. F. Taft and Dr. A. F. A. King now arrived and after a moments consultation we agreed to have him removed to the nearest house, which we immediately did, the above named with others assisting.

When we arrived at the door of the box, the passage was found to be densly crowded by those who were rushing towards that part of the theatre. I called out twice “Guards clear the passage,” which was so soon done that we proceeded without a moments delay with the President and were not in the slightest interrupted until he was placed in bed in the house of Mr. Peterson, opposite the theatre, in less than 20 minutes from the time he was assassinated

The street in front of the theatre before we had left it was filled with the excited populace, a large number of whom followed us into the house.

As soon as we arrived in the room offered to us, we placed the President in bed in a diagonal position; as the bed was too short, a part of the foot was removed to enable us to place him in a comfortable position.

The windows were opened and at my request a Captain present made all leave the room except the medical gentlemen and friends.

As soon as we placed him in bed we removed his clothes and covered him with blankets. While covering him I found his lower extremities very cold from his feet to a distance several inches above his knees.

I then sent for bottles of hot water, and hot blankets, which were applied to his lower extremities and abdomen.

Several other Physicians and Surgeons about this time arrived among whom was Dr. R. K. Stone who had been the President’s Physician since the arrival of his family in the city.

After having been introduced to Dr. Stone I asked him if he would assume charge (telling him at the time all that had been done and describing the wound,) he said that he would and approved of the treatment.

The Surgeon General and Surgeon Crane in a few minutes arrived and made an examination of the wound.

When the President was first laid in bed a slight ecchymosis was noticed on his left eyelid and the pupil of that eye was slightly dilated, while the pupil of the right eye was contracted.

About 11. p.m. the right eye began to protrude which was rapidly followed by an increase of the ecchymosis until it encircled the orbit extending above the supra orbital ridge and below the infra orbital foramen.

The wound was kept open by the Surgeon General by means of a silver probe, and as the President was placed diagonally on the bed his head was supported in its position by Surgeon Crane and Dr Taft relieving each other.

About 2 a.m. the Hospital Steward who had been sent for a Nelatons probe, arrived and examination was made by the Surgeon General, who introduced it to a distance of about 2½ inches, when it came in contact with a foreign substance, which laid across the track of the ball.

This being easily passed the probe was introduced several inches further, when it again touched a hard substance, which was at first supposed to be the ball, but as the bulb of the probe on its withdrawal did not indicate the mark of lead, it was generally thought to be another piece of loose bone.

The probe was introduced a second time and the ball was supposed to be distinctly felt by the Surgeon General, Surgeon Crane and Dr Stone.

After this second exploration nothing further was done with the wound except to keep the opening free from coagula, which if allowed to form and remain for a very short time, would produce signs of increased compression: the breathing becoming profoundly stertorous and intermittent and the pulse to be more feeble and irregular.

His pulse which was several times counted by Dr. Ford and noted by Dr King, ranged until 12 p.m. from between 40 to 64 beats per minute, and his respiration about 24 per minute, were loud and stertorous.

At 1 a.m. his pulse suddenly increasing in frequency to 100 per minute, but soon diminished gradually becoming less feeble until 2.54 a.m. when it was 48 and hardly perceptible.

At 6.40 a.m. his pulse could not be counted, it being very intermittent, two or three pulsations being felt and followed by an intermission, when not the slightest movement of the artery could be felt.

The inspirations now became very short, and the expirations very prolonged and labored accompanied by a gutteral sound.

6.50 a.m. The respirations cease for some time and all eagerly look at their watches until the profound silence is disturbed by a prolonged inspiration, which was soon followed by a sonorous expiration

The Surgeon General now held his finger to the carotid artery, Col. Crane held his head, Dr Stone who was sitting on the bed, held his left pulse, and his right pulse was held by myself.

At 7.20 a.m. he breathed his last and “the spirit fled to God who gave it.”

During the night the room was visited by many of his friends. Mrs Lincoln with Mrs. Senator Dixon came into the room three or four times during the night.

The Presidents son Captⁿ R. Lincoln, remained with his father during the greater part of the night.

Immediately after death had taken place, we all bowed and the Rev. Dr. Gurley supplicated to God in behalf of the bereaved family and our afflicted country.

True copy.

(signed) Charles A. Leale M. D.

[File Note:]

262. 262. S. G. O. 1865

Chas A Leale,

Report on death of President Lincoln[.]

Charles Leale is the seated man at Lincoln’s side with his back to the viewer in this contemporary depiction of Lincoln’s last moments.

“It is Well to be Humble”: Abraham Lincoln Visits Richmond, April 4, 1865

The day following the collapse of the Confederate defenses around Petersburg, Virginia, President Abraham Lincoln rode into the Cockade City to meet with his General-in-Chief, Ulysses S. Grant. Riding amidst the debris of war during his trip, Abraham Lincoln experienced firsthand the destruction and death that the Civil War had wrought upon his nation. While Lincoln trotted into the city, wounded men could be seen lying on the field and heading to the rear. In particular, the President saw “one man with a bullet-hole through his forehead, and another with both arms shot away.” Quickly, the President’s cheerful countenance “settled into its old lines of sadness.”

The sight of the victorious Grant must have been consoling to the President, for by the time the two shook hands in front of the Wallace House in Petersburg, one of Grant’s staffers wondered if Lincoln had “ever experienced a happier moment in his life.” Grant and Lincoln sat on the porch, discussing further plans to pursue the retreating Confederates and “cut him off.” Then, in the tone of his Second Inaugural Address given one month prior, Lincoln reminded his general of his desire for a lenient policy towards southerners—“I want no one punished; treat them liberally all around,” as Lincoln put it a week earlier to the North’s top military commanders.

Following his 90 minute conference with Grant, Lincoln returned to City Point and, once there, heard of Richmond’s capture. “Thank God I have lived to see this,” said Lincoln. “It seems to me that I have been dreaming a horrid dream for four years, and now the nightmare is gone. I want to see Richmond.” The next day, Lincoln proceeded there with a small entourage of a dozen marines, Lincoln, his son Tad, and a handful of others. What followed “produced the most unforgettable scenes of this unforgettable war,” noted historian James McPherson.

Lincoln’s visit to Richmond avoided “the pomp, or circumstance or caparisons of war,” noted a contemporary account, which called Lincoln “the humble citizen president of the United States….” Lincoln himself noted the simplicity of the visit during the boat ride to Richmond when he related a story of a man looking for a “high position as a consulate minister” and only ending up with “an old pair of trousers.” In Lincoln’s words, the moral of the story: “…it is well to be humble.”

It was perhaps the most humble capture of an enemy’s capital in human history, but Lincoln did not come to Richmond as a conqueror. Rather, he came to patch the deep wounds that resulted from decades of conflict over the issue of slavery between North and South.

Once Lincoln’s entourage reached land, a handful of blacks approached their Messiah and proclaimed, “Bress de Lord!…dere is de great Messiah!…Glory, Hallelujah!” One man in particular fell to his knees—paying homage to the President. Soon, others followed suit. Lincoln, clearly taken aback, said, “Don’t kneel to me, that is not right. You must kneel to God only, and thank him for the liberty you will hereafter enjoy.”

Making his way from the landing to United States Army Headquarters—housed in the same building that days earlier was the White House of the Confederacy—was no easy task, as along the way, hundreds of blacks turned out to catch a glimpse of their savior. Whereas the blacks turned out in droves to see the President, many of the white residents of the city peered out of their windows at the seemingly apocalyptic scene.

After a procession of some two miles, Lincoln finally arrived at the former White House. Once there, the President found a seat in Jefferson Davis’s office chair. His first words upon taking his seat were to ask for a glass of water. One of the eyewitnesses called it “a supreme moment” and indeed to Lincoln, this must have seemed the culmination of all of the troubles he and the rest of the nation had experienced over the past four years. But rather than looking to the past, Lincoln came to Richmond to begin the process of reunifying the United States.

While in Richmond, President Lincoln met with the few remaining Virginia and Confederate officials “and dictated terms of complete and unconditional surrender” of the city. Lincoln also discussed reconvening Virginia’s legislature, hoping that it would declare its ordinance of secession null and void and would call on Virginians within the Confederate Army to return to their homes and stop fighting. However, the surrender of Robert E. Lee’s Confederates on April 9 essentially nullified the need for such meetings of the legislature.

Abraham Lincoln visited Richmond for less than one day and returned to Union Army Headquarters near City Point, hoping to be present for the capitulation of Confederate forces in Virginia. Pressing matters in Washington however, compelled him to return.

Abraham Lincoln had only eleven days left to live when he entered the Confederate capital on April 4. The visit remains a great example of Lincoln’s views for reconstructing the nation. “Saving the American republic meant rekindling the bond among the states and renewing the bond between the people and the chief magistrate,” noted one historian of the visit. Lincoln did not enter Richmond with thousands of vengeful troops, aiming to conquer the South and further lay waste to its cities, farms, and institutions. Instead, he came with nearly a dozen soldiers acting as the President’s peaceful escort.

Abraham Lincoln’s peaceful and glorious visit to the city that had cost the country thousands of lives in the Union efforts to capture it perhaps serves as the epitome of Lincoln’s plans for Reconstruction and speaks louder than the multitudes of correspondence and speeches that he dedicated to the subject. After all, actions speak louder than words, a phenomenon Lincoln realized when he humbly entered the streets of Richmond 150 years ago today.

Bibliography

Bernard Fisher, “Lincoln in Petersburg Marker,” The Historical Marker Database, October 17,      2011, accessed April 4, 2015, http://www.hmdb.org/marker.asp?marker=48442.

David Herbert Donald, Lincoln (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1995), 576.

Doris Kearns Goodwin, Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln (New York:     Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2005), 718-20.

James McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era (New York: Oxford University       Press, 1988), 846-47.

Richard Wightman Fox, “’A Death-shock to Chivalry, and a Mortal Wound to Caste’: The Story of Tad and Abraham Lincoln in Richmond,” Journal of the Abraham Lincoln    Association 33, no. 2 (Summer 2012): 1-19, accessed April 4,         2015, http://quod.lib.umich.edu/j/jala/2629860.0033.203/–death-shock-to-chivalry-and-    a-mortal-wound-to-caste?rgn=main;view=fulltext.

Stephen B. Oates, With Malice Toward None: The Life of Abraham Lincoln (New York: Harper    & Row, 1977), 420-21.

“I advise that all preparations be made for leaving Richmond to-night”

As the sun began to rise over Petersburg, Virginia during the early morning hours of April 2, 1865, elements of the Army of the Potomac relentlessly crashed through the Confederate entrenchments south and east of the city. The fate of a nation hung in the balance as the men in blue swarmed their gray-clad adversaries, killing, wounding, and capturing them by the hundreds. As the rebel fortifications crumbled like a bursting dam, they could no longer hold back the rushing wave of enemy infantry before them. The entire Petersburg line was in jeopardy. The crucial rail city of Petersburg was as good as lost.

Behind his shattered army’s lines, Robert E. Lee sat anxiously within his headquarters at the Turnball House. Meeting with his subordinates, Lee urged them to throw everything they had into the breach to buy time for his men to reorganize. Riding out to the scene of the fighting, he realized the dreadfulness of the situation. Ordering a telegram to be forwarded at once to President Jefferson Davis in Richmond, the general admitted to his aide Walter Taylor: “I see no prospect of doing more than holding our position here until night. I am not certain I can do that. If I can I shall withdraw to-night north of the Appomattox, and, if possible, it will be better to withdraw the whole line to-night from James River. I advise that all preparations be made for leaving Richmond tonight. I will advise you later according to circumstances.”[1]

Jefferson Davis

Embarking for Sunday morning services at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Davis received Lee’s message from Colonel F. R. Lubbock and Postmaster General John H. Reagan. Before he made any further decisions, the president would wait for more word from Lee on the development of the situation around Petersburg. He continued on his way.

The congregation had proceeded normally with its services until late morning when another messenger entered the church and made his way up the aisle to Davis’s pew. The note read:

Petersburg

April 2, 1865

His Excellency President Davis, Richmond, Va.:

I think it is absolutely necessary that we should abandon our position to-night. I have given all the necessary orders on the subject to the troops; and the operation, though difficult, I hope will be performed successfully. I have directed General Stevens to send an officer to your Excellency to explain the routes to you by which the troops will be moved to Amelia Court-House, and furnish you with a guide and any assistance that you may require for yourself.[2]

R. E. Lee

Conveying no sense of emotion to the citizens and government officials surrounding him, Jefferson Davis rose and exited the church. Later that night he was on a train set for Danville, Virginia, and the Army of Northern Virginia was retreating north across the Appomattox River.

Put yourself in Jefferson Davis’s shoes as he received the second message from Robert E. Lee. Imagine the horror that must have overtaken him as he read the dispatch revealing that the Union Army had broken through the Confederate lines at Petersburg and that Richmond would inevitably fall. For four years he had led the Confederacy and held the burden, along with his generals in the field, of determining the fate of an independent nation. On April 2, 1865, his whole world must have been turned upside down as the dreams, sacrifice, and suffering of millions came crashing down upon him.  

[1] Noah Andre Trudeau, Out of the Storm: The End of the Civil War, April-June 1865 (New York: Little, Brown and Company, 1994), 56.

[2] Ibid., 57.