As I approach graduation, I seem to be continuously fielding questions about my major in undergrad, and my career goals. Usually when I say that I’ve studied history and wish to work in museums, I get the glazed eyes and the confused, “why?” which usually sounds more like “why on Earth would you want to do that?” So today I have a little story about what makes me want to work in museums with dusty books and artifacts. Earlier today a coworker and I were talking about how it’s hard for us to watch historical movies sometimes because we are so familiar with the material history that goes along with it. For example, we were discussing the movie “Titanic.” Both of us said that we had seen it once and would never see it again, because here at The Mariners’ Museum there is a life jacket that is thought to have been from the Titanic. It was found by a mortician, who supposedly took it off of the body of a passenger who had perished in the wreck. Somehow after knowing this, and seeing this life jacket in person, it’s not as easy to watch Rose let Jack freeze to death in the water (because lets be real, he totally could have fit on that door too). I think it’s easy for many people to skim over history and the sorrow in it, because many people don’t connect with something that is written in a history book. Specifically, when discussing the Civil War, I think it’s easy for people to forget that it was the bloodiest war on American soil.

About 620,000 people died (from both disease and injuries sustained in battle), making up 2% of the population in 1860. If 2% of our population today died, it would be equivalent to about 6.14 million people. To add a mental visual for you, this would be about the same as destroy Chicago twice, and then some. For just a little bit more perspective, about 3 million people total died during the Vietnam War about a hundred years later, and about 58,000 Americans were killed in Vietnam. Similarly, about 6 million Jews were killed in the concentration camps during World War II. During the Civil War, about one in four soldiers died, and almost two thirds of those were due to disease and not necessarily injury.

Antietam, Maryland. A lone grave. Photo by Alexander Gardnery, courtesy of the Library of Congress online.

The five bloodiest battles (listed here in order of deadliest), were Gettysburg, Chickamauga, Chancellorsville, Spotsylvania Court House and The Wilderness. At Gettysburg, from July 1^st through the 3^rd, of 1863 about 51,000 men in total were killed, wounded or went missing. About 28,000 of those men were Confederate soldiers, while the other 23,000 were Union soldiers. Confederate General Robert E. Lee lost about one third of his total army at Gettysburg. Chickamauga was the bloodiest battle of the Western Theater, claiming about 34,600 men from September 18, 1863 to September 20^th. Interestingly enough, the name Chickamauga is a Native American word for the “river of death,” which is an appropriate name for the location of such a bloody battle. Both Chancellorsville and the battle of Spotsylvania Court House claimed about 30,000 casualties both, with Chancellorsville going from April 30^th to May 6^th, 1863, and the Spotsylvania stretching from May 8^th through the 21^st of 1864. The Battle of the Wilderness claimed about 29,800 casualties, and took place right before Spotsylvania, from May 5^th through the 7^th. The Wilderness was part of Grant’s Overland Campaign, which was the bloodiest campaign in American history, claiming about 60,000 lives – which again is more than the total number of Americans killed in Vietnam. Between these five battles, there were about 176,400 casualties. And not just any casualties – but Americans killing Americans.

Gettysburg, Pa. Dead Confederate soldiers in “the devil’s den.” Photo by Alexander Gardner, courtesy of the Library of Congress online.

Now, I know it’s not fair of me to talk about disconnecting from history and then throw a lot of statistics at you. But as a history major who visits battlefields, these numbers are what I think about when I’m at one of those battlefields. I don’t know how many people visit museums to see the actual artifacts, but I think it’s fascinating to look at things that were actually there when these events occurred. Whether it was a canteen from Gettysburg or a radio from Vietnam, these things are important because they are physical witnesses to some of the greatest conflicts in history. I think it’s easy to disconnect from our history, and that history is so important to our nation and our national identity. After all, who are we without the Constitution or the Declaration of Independence? I think it’s important to protect the material history of our past, because without it, it’s so hard to define America and define our future.

For the website where I found all of the statistics in this blog post, click HERE.

When thinking about the Civil War, I find it interesting to consider that there were two American governments operating at the same time. They were fighting one another desperately and had some important differences, but much of the Confederacy was modeled after the set up of the United States. They both had Cabinet members, Constitutions (though the Confederate one gave more power to the states than the United States did), and a bicameral Congress. They both also had presidents, and while Abraham Lincoln sought to reunited the Union and end slavery, Jefferson Davis fought to establish the Confederacy and expand slavery.

Jefferson Davis, between 1855 – 1865. Courtesy of the Library of Congress online.

Jefferson Davis served as the first and only, President of the Confederacy during the war. Davis had graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1828, the year before Robert E. Lee graduated. While at West Point, he was put under house arrest for his involvement in what was called the “Eggnog Riot,” where some cadets smuggled whiskey into their rooms in the barracks.[1] Following his graduation he served under Colonel (and future president) Zachary Taylor. In 1835, Davis retired from the Army, so that he could marry Taylor’s daughter Sarah, despite it being against his commander’s wishes. Sarah died from disease three months into their marriage, and Davis eventually remarried Varina Banks Howell in 1844. Before his remarriage, Davis became involved in with the Democratic Party. He went to the Democratic state convention in Mississippi, and continuously gained support for the party, even becoming a potential presidential candidate in 1844, the same year him and Varina married.

With the start of the Mexican American war in 1846, Davis and a volunteer regiment joined the fight, where he clashed with General Winfield Scott. Following the end of the war Davis rejoined politics, eventually serving in both the House of Representatives and the US Senate, and then as Franklin Pierce’s Secretary of War. Prior to the escalation of the disagreement over how to proceed with slavery, Davis actually spoke out against succession as a measure to be taken. He believed in the Union, and did not support succession until his own state of Mississippi withdrew and joined the Confederacy. He was inaugurated as provisional president of the Confederacy on February 18, 1861, and then again as the official president following an unopposed election on February 22, 1862. Davis is said to have struggled as president, having a hard time managing both the military decisions and the internal affairs.

Following the capture of Richmond and Robert E. Lee’s surrender, Davis fled further south into Georgia to avoid capture by the Union troops. However, he was captured on May 10, 1865, and taken to Fort Monroe, VA, where he remained imprisoned under charges of treason until 1867, until the case was dropped and he was released. Following his release he worked for an insurance agency, traveled abroad, and throughout the United States. Davis refused to take the oath of allegiance that was required for former Confederates to regain their citizenship, and he did not regain it until 1978 when it was posthumously reinstated by Congress and President Jimmy Carter. This, as Carter supposedly said, was thought to be the last act of reconstruction and reconciliation following the Civil War.

I think the role of Jefferson Davis in the Civil War is extremely interesting. He had been involved within the US government prior to the Civil War, and had initially opposed the succession of the southern states. It shows a lot that a man who was so dedicated and involved with the United States was able to succeed and lead another government in opposition to it. I think it really helps emphasize how the nation was torn apart, and even those who believed in the Union felt so strongly about the conflict that they too left it to try to install what they believed would be a better government.

Jefferson Davis Memorial (detail), Richmond, Va. Courtesy of the Library of Congress online.

Hello faithful Connection followers! I hope everyone is enjoying some nice spring weather, and not suffering from allergies. I believe I hinted to this last week, but today I’m going to discuss the Secret Service. I think I tell you every time I do a blog that it’s topic is something of interest to me, and I’ll be honest that today is no different. But seriously let’s all admit it – the Secret Service is pretty freaking cool. They have that whole James Bond thing going on – looking cool as a cucumber while being ready to defend the President of the United States in a suit and sunglasses. You might be wondering how the Secret Service relates to the Civil War. Well, prior to the Civil War there was no Secret Service and in a horrible twist of irony, President Abraham Lincoln signed the legislation creating the Secret Service hours before he was shot on April 14, 1865. [1] At the time however, the Secret Service would not have protected him, because their original function was to prevent counterfeit currency, and it would eventually become a division of the Treasury Department until 2003, when it was moved to the Department of Homeland Security.

Secret Service Group, between 1905 and 1945. Courtesy of the Library of Congress online.

In the late 1880s the Secret Service attended presidential inauguration to prevent bystanders from heckling or annoying the president. In 1884, part time protection was given to President Grover Cleveland, and in 1901, following the assassination of President William McKinley, Congress “informally requested” the presence of Secret Service security for the office of the President’s protection.[2] The following year the request was officially approved. The list of those who are protected by Secret Service also continued to expand. In 1913 the president-elect was added to the list, and the family of the president was added in 1917. The vice president was added in 1951, and following Robert Kennedy’s assassination in 1968 after winning the California primary, presidential and vice presidential candidates and nominees were included as well. The full list, outlining who receives the protection of the Secret Service can be found HERE. Presidents elected prior to 1997 receive lifetime protection, whereas a law passed in 1997 changed the limit of protection to ten years after leaving office unless they refuse protection prior to that. Former President Bill Clinton will be the last president to receive lifetime protection.

President and Mrs. Coolidge Leaving First Congregational Church, 1925. Courtesy of the Library of Congress online. (Look at the Secret Service Agent behind them – totally Bond-esque!)

Today, President Obama has been guarded by the Secret Service since 2007, longer than any other president or candidate (Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton already received protection because of her status as Former First Lady). Traditionally, the President picks his own codename, and his families follow the same alliteration. For example, President Obama goes by “Renegade,” Michelle is “Renaissance,” Malia is “Radiance” and Sasha is “Rosebud.”[3] The opportunity to pick your own codename has resulted in quite a few interesting ones over the year, some of which are discussed HERE. Bill Clinton used “Eagle,” and George W. Bush actually used both “Tumbler and “Trailblazer,” the first one being from when his father George H. W. Bush (“Timberwolf”) was president. John F. Kennedy was “Lance,” while his wife Jackie was “Lace.” Al Gore’s daughter, Karenna, was nineteen when her father became vice president, and chose the name “Smurfette,” which she claims continues to make her cringe.[4] So thanks to President Lincoln for his creation of the Secret Service, if you ever have the opportunity to receive their protection, make sure you pick a name you like because you could be hearing it for an extended period of time! Me, I think I’d like code name Flamingo, circa C.J. Cregg from West Wing.[5]

So, if you haven’t already been able to tell, I find Abraham Lincoln one of the most fascinating presidents that we have ever had.  For Christmas I received two books on Lincoln, and for my birthday I received a copy of the new Lincoln movie that I discussed in a blog a long time ago. For those of you who don’t know, the anniversary of the day that Lincoln was shot is quick approaching, and April 14^th, 2013 will mark 148 years since John Wilkes Booth pulled the trigger in Ford’s Theater. Lincoln was the first United States President to be assassinated, and the events of the assassination are fascinating.

John Wilkes Booth was Confederate sympathizer, who remained in the North working as an actor during the war. Interestingly enough, Lincoln had gone to see one of Booth’s performances prior to the assassination and Booth’s brother Edwin had saved the life of Lincoln’s son Robert, a couple years earlier. Edwin was also a famous actor, and was standing on a train platform near Robert when he slipped and almost fell in the way of an oncoming train. Edwin grabbed Robert and pulled him back onto the platform, saving him from certain injury and possible death. In contrast, John Wilkes Booth had a number of opportunities where he considered kidnapping or killing President Lincoln prior to his actually assassination. Booth was at Lincoln’s second inauguration on March 4^th, 1865, and is thought to have considered drawing his gun then and shooting the president during his speech. Following the inauguration, Booth had come up with a plan to kidnap Lincoln on March 20^th, and take him to Richmond. However Lincoln didn’t appear at the anticipated kidnapping time, and the Confederacy fell apart not long after.

[John Wilkes Booth, half-length portrait, facing left and holding a cane], Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

With the surrender of Robert E. Lee on April 9^th, Booth decided to take matters into his own hands. Booth came up with a plan to not only assassinate Lincoln, but also the Vice President Andrew Johnson and Secretary of State William H. Seward. This would not only take out the President, but also his first two successors. However, the only successful assassination was the one of President Lincoln, because Booth managed to enter President Lincoln’s box at the theater and shot him in the back of the head, before jumping out of the box and onto the stage. (I’m sure many of you are wondering why there was no Secret Service agent there to prevent this – my next blog post will discuss why!) Booth broke his leg in the leap from the box to the stage, but shouted “Sic simper tyrannis! [Thus always to tyrants] – the South is avenged,” before escaping on horseback. Lewis T. Payne, one of Booth’s fellow conspirators managed to get into Seward’s home and seriously injure him, but Seward did not die from the attack. The man in charge of killing Vice President Johnson, George A. Atzerodt, was unable to follow through with his assigned killing.

Washington Navy Yard, D.C. Lewis Payne, in sweater, seated and manacled. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

As Booth embarked on a wild escape attempt through Maryland and Virginia, President Lincoln was taken to a house across the street from the theater. While he survived the night, Lincoln passed away on the morning of the 15^th, officially becoming the first President to be assassinated. Booth was eventually found a few days later, and died from a bullet wound, though it is unsure if it was suicide or the officials that found him. Meanwhile eight people who aided him along the way were placed on trial for taking part in the conspiracy, and four were hung, including Mary Surratt, who was the first woman executed by the United States government. Along with her, Lewis Payne, David Herold and George Atzerodt were also hung for their involvement.

The thing I find most interesting in the Lincoln assassination is the fact that so many other things could have occurred. Booth could have decided to kill Lincoln and his inauguration, or kidnap him before the war was over, and perhaps change the overall outcome. His brother Edwin could have been unable to save Robert Lincoln, resulting in the death of another child of the President, which also could have had immense effects on the President. If Booth’s other conspirators had been successful in their attempted attacks on Vice President Johnson and Steward, the country would have faced even more extreme upheaval. It’s always interesting to look at history and consider the way things turned out, and how different our history could have been if major events went differently than they did.

Washington, D.C. The four condemned conspirators (Mrs. Surratt, Payne, Herold, Atzerodt), with officers and others on the scaffold; guards on the wall. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

On this day, April 9th, 148 years ago Confederate General Robert E. Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia laid down their weapons and surrendered to Union General Ulysses S. Grant in the small town of Appomattox, Virginia. Almost exactly four years before, on April 12, 1861, the Confederates had begun shooting on Fort Sumter, South Carolina, igniting the Civil War. By now however, Lee lead an army that was badly beaten and worn out, with the number of deserters increasing every day, and in desperate need of food. After almost four full years of fighting, both armies and the nation as a whole were tired of the war.

Portrait of Gen. Robert E. Lee, officer of the Confederate Army, c. 1864. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

As one of my previous blogs, Front Seats to the Eastern Theater, discusses, there was originally to be a battle at Appomattox. There was some light skirmishing, but once it became apparent that the Confederate troops would not win, Lee asked Grant to meet and discuss terms of surrender. This led the men to the house of Wilmer McLean, who had also seen the start of the war at his previous home in Manassas, Virginia, with the Battle of First Bull Run. Uncomfortably enough, the men had previously encountered one another during their time in the Mexican War, and apparently exchanged some pleasantries before discussing terms. Apparently, Lee showed up in his full dress uniform, looking polished and profession as he was always reported to be. In contrast, Grant showed up with his uniform rumpled and muddy, looking much as he did any other day.

Major General Ulysses S. Grant, Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

The terms of surrender that were reached between the two generals were exceptionally generous, and it is often called “The Gentlemen’s Agreement.” Grant paroled the Confederate soldiers and allowed them to return home, and while he required that Confederate equipment and weapons be turned over to the Union army, he allowed the men to keep their horses and mules so they could use them for the spring harvests. Much of the landscape of Virginia and the Eastern Theater had been ravaged or burned by the armies, and it needed to be restored to its former levels of production. In addition to this, the Confederate soldiers had not been able to eat in a few days, and Grant obliged Lee’s request for rations for his men.

When Lee left the McLean house to return to his army, the Union army began cheering and their band began playing celebratory tunes. When Grant heard this, he immediately sent word instructing them to stop stating, “The war is over. The Rebels are our countrymen again.”[1] The official ceremony of surrender, in which the Confederate troops turned over their weapons, occurred a few days later on April 12^th, the anniversary of the day the war had begun. Following Lee’s surrender, it took some time for fighting to cease in other parts of the country. However, the war was over in Virginia, and while Reconstruction was on the horizon, the nation would soon be rocked again with the assassination of President Lincoln.

McLean House, Appomattox, Appomattox County, VA. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

When driving to and from school, I always note the number of battlefields I pass. There’s Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville up along I-95 in Northern Virginia, and when I hit I-295 outside of Richmond, I always note the sign for Cold Harbor. Due to its central location and the fact that Washington D.C. was caught between a southern state, and a border state, much of the fighting that took place in the Eastern Theater of the Civil War occurred in Virginia. Similarly, the Confederate capital was located in Richmond, which is only about 108 miles from D.C. The first major battle following the attack on Fort Sumter was the First Battle of Bull Run, which is only about 30 miles outside of D.C. Cold Harbor, which took place in the summer of 1864, occurred a mere ten miles outside of Richmond. This battle, which was part of the Overland Campaign by the Union Army, produced horrendous amount of casualties and reduced the morale of the Union Army. However, it was the last victory Robert E. Lee would have over the Union prior to his surrender at Appomattox Court House.

Map of the Overland Campaign, by Hal Jespersen, www.posix.com/CW. Accessed through Wikimedia.

The Overland Campaign itself was a series of battles in which Robert E. Lee and Ulysses S. Grant’s armies clashed on the battlefield continuously as the generals played a strategic game of cat and mouse. Grant had intended to push south towards Richmond, in an attempt to capture the capital. Lee countered aggressively at the Battle of the Wilderness, resulting in massive casualty losses on both sides. However, while Lee expected Grant to pull back, Grant instead continued to push his armies southeast. For the months of May and June, the two armies met at a number of battles after which Grant continuously refused to turn around and instead pushed south. The battle of Cold Harbor, which took place from May 31 until June 12, was the final battle out of this campaign prior to the Union siege of Petersburg.

Ulysses S. Grant, outside of his tent at Cold Harbor. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

During the actual battle, the Union troops were stalled by the delayed arrival of support that provided the Confederate troops with extra time to create better fortifications and entrenchments that would protect them against attacks. On June 1^st, Major General William Smith’s Army of the James had to turn around after marching in the wrong direction due to a failure to receive updated orders, and arrived late in the afternoon for an attack only went until night fall. On the following day, Grant had planned for a 5am attack, but the troops of Major General Winfield Hancock didn’t arrive until 6:30am, after being exhausted from their march the night before. Both of these delays allowed the Confederates time to prepare for the attacks, and when the Union troops finally attacked on June 4^th, they couldn’t advance against the Confederates. With neither army able to advance, and Grant and Lee negotiated a cease fire, and it is determined a Union loss. After the battle, Grant gave up his campaign towards Richmond, and instead moved to besiege Petersburg.

The casualties of Cold Harbor and the Overland Campaign were outrageously high for both armies. At just Cold Harbor, the Union army lost 12,000 men that were killed, wounded, missing or captured, while the Confederates lost about 4,000 casualties.[1] In total, the Overland Campaign produced about 55,000 casualties for the Union troops, with about 7,600 deaths. The Confederates suffered 32,600 casualties, with about 4,200 killed.[2] While it was seen as a loss for the Union because of the sheer number of casualties, it could actually be considered a tactical success for engaging Lee, and drawing the army down to Petersburg to be tied up in a siege. It diverted Confederate attention away from the capital, and ensured that they wouldn’t be disengaging for an extended period of time. The siege gave the Union army a chance to wear down the Confederacy, which arguably benefitted them in the long run. However, the sheer number of men that were lost did prove to be an issue, as both Confederate and Union troops lost morale as the war dragged on.

Hello faithful Connections readers! Today covers part two of my series on women during the war, and discusses women spies! During the Civil War, women received a substantial amount of power as a result of the men being required to leave home and engage in battle. The lack of a male presence within the household forced women to assume responsibilities they were unfamiliar with prior to the war. One of the ways in which women helped the Civil War effort and therefore stepped out of their traditional female roles was through spying. Women with strong views of the war often utilized their femininity to encourage officers or soldiers to share information with them. In this sense, women took the previously established female role and played upon it in order to benefit their country. Women were thought to be simple minded and silly, and therefore made effective spies whom men would not question their intentions when potentially sharing information with ladies present.

Belle Boyd, accessed through the Library of Congress online.

In Martinsburg, VA, now part of West Virginia, lived one of the most influential Civil War spies named Belle Boyd. A wealthy and intelligent Southern belle, Boyd began collecting information and spying for the Confederacy, specifically providing information to General Stonewall Jackson, at the age of seventeen.[1] When the Federal troops first arrived in her town, Boyd refused to remove the Confederate flag from outside her house. A Federal soldier arrived at her front porch to force her family to remove the flag and instead hang the Federal flag, but when he attempted to approach her house, Boyd is said to have shot and killed him.[2] Not only did Boyd avoid being charged with murder, she also avoided punishment of any kind and continued to flirt with the Federal troops in order to gain information about the movement of the Union army. Boyd also worked as a nurse, and continued passing information to Confederate leaders such as P.T. Beauregard, Jackson and J. E. B. Stuart. Boyd was arrested multiple times for her involvement, yet managed to avoid remaining within prison for an extended period of time.  After finally being captured on a boat trying to take information abroad, Boyd married the Union ensign in charge of her fate. In multiple instances, Boyd was capable of using her feminine traits to excuse her from her masculine role within the war. Men underestimated her because she was a woman, and it allowed Boyd to greatly impact the successes of the Confederate army by manipulating men.

Rose Greenhow, accessed through the Library of Congress online.

Rose Greenhow, another Confederate spy, was a prominent woman in the social scene of Washington, and had an abundance of both Union officials and Southern sympathizers in her social circle. Similar to Boyd, Greenhow’s charming personality enabled her to acquire information from influential Northern officials, which she promptly sent to her old friend Jefferson Davis. One of Greenhow’s most notable achievements as a spymaster within Washington was alerting the Confederate army of the planned Union surprise attack that would result in the overwhelming Union defeat at the Battle of First Bull Run. Once captured by the Union Army, Greenhow continued to manage her information network while on house arrest, and from prison while being held under the charge of treason. She was soon exiled from the Union, “promising to not return north of the Potomac River without permission of the Secretary of War after having being set at liberty beyond the lines of the U. S. Army.”[3] From Richmond, she was sent abroad by Confederate President Jefferson Davis and became prominent within the British social scene in an attempt to both increase support for the Confederacy and publish her own book. Even more impressive in her untraditional role within the war was her ability to impress and enchant her supporters in Britain as well as Washington, D.C. Greenhow opened the doors to her own personal success with an international book deal of her experiences, capitalizing on her involvement with the war.

Both of these women are fascinating examples of how women stepped out of their private roles in order to help the war efforts. It shows not only were women willing and capable to make a difference, it also shows that they understood the larger political themes and danger of their involvement. For one of the first times in history, larger numbers of women were able to help outside of the home and really make an impact. The Civil War was a unique conflict for the United States, in that it not only tested the relationships of the states and the power of the government, it also tested traditional family roles and the power of social constraints.

Prior to the Civil War, women in the United States of America had a clearly defined role within society. For the majority of women, this meant remaining in the private sphere and caring for their families. Even one of our founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson, believed that the role of women was to “sooth and calm the minds of their husbands returning ruffled from political debate.”[1] However, with the outbreak of violence in April 1861, the roles in which women fulfilled shifted drastically to support the war efforts of both the Union and the Confederacy. As men went off to fight, women assumed more responsibility within the house, or provided their services to their respective armies. As the nation faced its greatest internal struggle yet, women’s freedoms expanded to allow for their assistance to benefit the war effort. Women became nurses, spies, and even outlaws in an attempt to help in any way that they could. For today’s blog and next week as well, I have a two part series for you, focusing on the roles that women filled during the Civil War.

One of the ways in which women helped the war effort was through nursing. Initially, the armies had turned away women nurses, or asked for homely looking women for fear that relationships would develop between the soldiers and their caretakers. However, as the number of casualties rose, the armies chose to accept all the help they could receive and more women flooded the ranks of nurses. Nurses flocked to battlefields and nearby hospitals, providing both armies with the care necessary to keep them engaged in conflict. Through nursing, women found themselves in positions that allowed them to help benefit the war effort, while also providing themselves with opportunities to step outside of their specified female roles within society.

Clara Barton, accessed through the Library of Congress online.

Potentially one of the most prominent nurses of the Civil War was Clara Barton. Barton was at many of the major battles of the war, including those of Second Bull Run, Antietam and Fredericksburg.[2] After the war, Barton was sent to Europe to recover from all of the work and labor she had provided within the war. [3]However, her reputation was well known internationally, and she was requested to join the Red Cross as the Franco-Prussian War raged on. When Barton returned home from Europe, she negotiated the politics of the Geneva Treaty, ensuring that the United States acceded to the treaty, and sub sequentially established the American Association of the Red Cross.[4] In doing so, Barton set an example for the achievements of women. The dedication of the aid and care she provided to soldiers in the Civil War gave her access to a world of potential that women had never seen before.

Unidentified woman in shawl, possibly Mrs. Rebecca Pomroy. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

In the case of Rebecca Pomroy, her service as a nurse gave her the ability to impact multiple lives, including that of President Lincoln. While working at Columbia College Hospital, Dorothea Dix recommended Pomroy to President Lincoln to help care for his entire family, whom all were very ill. Pomroy cared for the Lincoln’s and nursed them back to help, earning the respect and friendship of President Lincoln himself. When offered a favor by the President, Pomroy only asked that President Lincoln come boost morale among her boys at the hospital. President Lincoln obliged, even meeting the African American workers providing the food for the nurses and patients. For more than three and a half years, Pomroy alternated working at the hospital caring for wounded soldiers and caring for the Lincoln family with her nursing abilities. She even encouraged the occasional Confederate soldiers that she cared for to give up the rebellion and take an oath of allegiance, which at least one did.[5]

Both of these women’s services propelled them out of the traditional private sphere and into more public roles during the Civil War. Pomroy and Barton both achieved more attention and appreciation as a result of their service, along with once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Barton became internationally renowned for her services, while Pomroy was given the opportunity to server her nation by serving both its army and its commander-in-chief. The Civil War, while tearing the nation apart and turning traditional family roles upside down, provided women opportunities to support the nation and their families in nontraditional ways. Additionally, if you thought nursing was a way for women to challenge the status quo, next week’s blog post is about female spies during the Civil War. Talk about rocking the boat…

Prior to the start of the Civil War, there was no medal to recognize the outstanding efforts and bravery of the members of the armed forces. It was first introduced as a bill within the Senate by Iowa Senator James W. Grimes, in December 1861. This first bill focused on a medal just for members of the US Navy and Marines who had shown exceptional bravery and courage during the Civil War. Two months later, in February 1862, Massachusetts Senator Henry Wilson introduced a bill which would provide the Army with a similar award.[1]

U.S. Army Medal of Honor with neck band, 1944. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

There are specific guidelines for receiving the Medal of Honor that were established in 1963. To be eligible to receive it, potential recipients must have been: “Engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States, engaged in a military operations involving conflict with an opposing foreign force; or, while serving with friendly forces engaged in armed conflict against an opposing armed force in which the United States is not a belligerent party.”[2] Originally, only enlisted men were eligible to receive the Medal of Honor, but that was expanded to include officers as well in 1863. Actions deemed worthy of receiving the Medal of Honor have to be approved through a variety of levels of command.

Robert Burns Brown (1844-1916), an Ohio native who fought in the Civil War and received the Congressional Medal of Honor in 1889 for his bravery in the Indian War Campaigns. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

Throughout the Civil War, there were a variety of Army and Navy armed forces that commit acts of bravery that are deemed worthy of receiving the newly created Medal of Honor. In March 1863, Secretary of War Edwin Stanton presents the first ever Medals of Honor to six members of Andrew’s Raiders, who had earned the Medals after seven of their fellow members, had been hung as spies in Atlanta. A month later, the Navy also presents its first Medals of Honor to 41 soldiers. The only woman to ever receive the Medal of Honor was Mary Walker, who received it following the Battle of Bull Run in 1861. Similarly, William Carney was the first African American to receive the award, and received it for his actions in 1863, at Fort Wagner, South Carolina.[3]

Benjamin Franklin Tracy (1830-1915), a recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor for heroism during the Civil War who served as Secretary of the Navy (1889-1893). Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

In total, there have been 3,460 recipients of the Medal of Honor, and 1,522 of those recipients were from the Civil War. 19 people have received the Medal of Honor twice since it was created; four of those were also from the Civil War. Out of those 3,460 recipients, only 80 are still living, 54 from the Vietnam War, 11 from the Korean War, 11 from World War II, and 4 from the War in Afghanistan. The most recent recipient, Staff Sergeant Clinton L. Romesha received his Medal of Honor, February 11^th, 2013, for his service and bravery in Operation Enduring Freedom. If you get teary eyed like I do about events such as these (or even the honoring of troops at professional sporting events), then you can see more about Staff Sgt. Romesha and photos of him receiving the Medal of Honor from President Obama HERE.

In early March of 1862, the ironclad ships of both the Confederacy and the Union finally encountered one another and engaged in a naval battle that would forever change naval technology. Even at the time, back in 1862, many people understood that this one encounter was a monumental event. Amazingly enough, one of the perks of being an intern for The Mariners’ Museum means I can look at archives from the New York Times, to see what they had to say about the battle.

Civil War newspaper maps from the New York times, 1861. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.

For those who might not be familiar with the background of the Battle of Hampton Roads, the CSS Merrimac had initially been the USS Virginia, but had been burned when the US Navy was forced to flee the Norfolk Ship Yard. The US Navy had set fire to the ships they left behind, rather than allow them to fall into the hands of the Confederates. However, the Confederates were able to salvage the hull of the Virginia, and had turned it into the ironclad ship, the Merrimac. Meanwhile, the Union had commissioned the USS Monitor, an ironclad ship designed by John Ericsson.

On March 12, 1862, the New York Times printed an article with some correspondence from Fort Monroe, located in Hampton Virginia. It provided details from the battle of March 8^th and 9^th, which began with the arrival of the Confederate ship, the Merrimac. During the burning of Norfolk Ship Yard, the US Navy had been able to save the USS Cumberland, and from the description of the article, the Cumberland was the first ship targeted by the Merrimac. Following sinking the Cumberland, the Merrimac then attacked and burned the USS Congress. The battle was not progressing well for the Union on March 8^th, but March 9^th brought new hope with the arrival of the Monitor.  This article credits the “little Monitor” with the win, but interestingly, it also acknowledges both the reputation and the power of the Merrimac. The Monitor had not yet been tested in battle, while the Merrimac had proved its ability already. Upon the Monitor’s arrival, the Merrimac attempted to ram it, yet just bounced right off the side, before firing on one another. According to this article, the firing proved to be mostly ineffective, yet prompted the Merrimac to eventually leave the scene.[1]

A few days later, on March 16, 1862, there was another article discussing the ironclad battle printed in the Times. This one, titled “The Romance of War,” portrayed the battle in a very different light. This article states almost immediately, “It [the battle] will be one of those events that our children and our children’s children will read of over and over again, with undying interest.” [2] This article, which describes less of the details and more of the artistry of the battle, compares the Merrimac to a “mysterious, monstrous object,” and the Monitor to an “iron mailed knight.”[3] The article goes on to state, “on that eventful Sunday, the whole naval architecture and harbor defenses of the world were summarily changed…No wooden-sided war-vessel with henceforth be built.”[4] This wordplay, takes the battle from an event that was matter-of-factually reported on, and elevates it to a higher level, which inspires readers with a sense of awe regarding the ironclads. This battle is unlike anything that either the Union or the Confederacy had ever seen before, and describing in a way that is reminiscent of the romantic tales of knights, villains and honor, helps solidify it as an event that will forever change the world. The article appeals to readers by playing on their knowledge of a legendary story, and in doing so helps establish the ironclads as legendary as well.

Front page of New York Times, Monday, Apr. 10, 1865, with news of Lee’s surrender. Accessed through the Library of Congress online.