Just finished Elizabeth and Hazel by David Margolick. This book will change your perspective on the infamous 1957 Will Count's photograph
APUSH Game Day 2020
This year, some 3.4 million students are registered to take AP Exams, which are designed to test high school students’ understanding of college-level material. Good luck to all the APUSH students taking the national exam this afternoon!
Copperheads
In the 1860s, the Copperheads were a vocal faction of Democrats in the Northern United States of the Union who opposed the American Civil War, wanting an immediate peace settlement with the Confederates.
In a rural community upstate New York in 1862, farmer Abner Beech is a Northern antiwar Democrat. While his neighbors take up the Union cause in the ongoing American Civil War, Beech believes that coercion in resisting the secession of the southern states is unconstitutional, and gradually becomes more and more harassed for his views, derisively called a "Copperhead". His son, Thomas Jefferson Beech, enlists in the Union Army. Beech also arouses the ire of militant abolitionist Jee Hagadorn, whose daughter Esther (Lucy Boynton) loves Jeff.
Mulligan's Brigade
One of the best known scenes in Martin Scorcese’s 2002 movie Gangs of New York is that which depicts the enlistment of Irish emigrants ‘straight off the boat’ into the Union army. The seemingly unsuspecting men are quickly dressed in uniform and packed off for the front, even as those unfortunates who have gone before are brought back in coffins. This scene is one of the most influential in dictating modern memory of Irish recruitment into the Union army. The popular image of thousands of Irishmen, ignorant of what they were getting into, joining up the moment they stepped ashore is one I encounter frequently. But how true is it?
The more I investigate the Irish experience, the more apparent it is that the type of incident portrayed in Gangs of New York rarely, if ever, occurred. Far from being duped, it was much more likely that many of these men had travelled to the United States with the express intention of joining the military, in the hope of benefiting from the financial rewards available for doing so. This was the primary motivation for Irish enlistment in the Union Army from at least 1863 onwards. These men were not stupid- they came from a country where enlistment in the British Army for economic reasons was commonplace, and they came informed about the Civil War. SOURCE LINK: Irish American Civil War; Mulligans Brigade
Draft Riots and $300 Men, 1863
In 1863, Congress issued a Conscription Act to draft more people into the army to fight the Civil War. The draft law also included a provision that allowed wealthy men to pay $300 to a substitute (over $6,000 in today’s money) , thus avoiding military service. In response, in New York City protesters led four days of violent attacks against African Americans, draft officials, wealthy businessmen, and Protestant missionaries.
The Conscription Act of 1863
Context: Why do we need a draft ?
President Lincoln issued a call for 75,000 volunteers in April 1861. Lincoln gave a second call for an additional 42,000 men in May 1861. In July 1861, the U.S. Congress sanctioned Lincoln's acts and authorized 500,000 additional volunteers. As the war dragged on and Battle casualties increased a formal draft become necessary
Conscription Act of 1863 The first instance of compulsory service in the federal military services. All male citizens, as well as aliens who had declared their intention of becoming citizens, between 20 and 45 were at risk of being drafted. No married man could be drafted until all the unmarried had been taken. Two methods of evading the draft were available. A man could hire a substitute who would serve in his place, or he could simply pay $300 to get out of the obligation. Of the more than 750,000 drafted in 1863 and 1864, only roughly 46,000 ever saw the battlefield.
Consequences: The New York City draft riots (July 13–16, 1863) were violent disturbances widely regarded as the culmination of working-class discontent with new laws passed by Congress that year to draft men to fight in the ongoing American Civil War. The riots remain the largest civil and racially-charged insurrection in American history, aside from the Civil War itself
Young Men Go to War
“Young men go to war. Sometimes because they have to, sometimes because they want to. Always, they feel they are supposed to.This comes from the sad, layered stories of life, which over the centuries have seen courage confused with picking up arms, and cowardice confused with laying them down.”
Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven
Emancipation Proclamation in 4 Minutes
Antietam 150 Years Later
The Battle of Antietam, 1862
"No single battle decided the outcome of the Civil War. Several turning points brought reversals of an apparently inexorable momentum toward victory by one side and then the other during the war. Two such pivotal moments occurred in the year that preceded Antietam. Union naval and military victories in the early months of 1862 blunted previous Southern triumphs and brought the Confederacy almost to its knees. But Southern counteroffensives in the summer turned the war around. When the Army of Northern Virginia crossed the Potomac River into Maryland in September, 1862, the Confederacy appeared to be on the brink of victory. Antietam shattered that momentum. Never again did Southern armies come so close to conquering a peace for an independent Confederacy as they did in September 1862. Even though the war continued and the Confederacy again approached success on later occasions, Antietam was arguably, as Karl Marx and Walter Taylor believed, the event of the war."
Historian James McPherson Crossroads of Freedom: Antietam (2002)
Battle of First Bull Run, 1861
Contest: Gen. McDowell leads 30,000 men against Gen. Johnston's 22,000 Southern troops in an attempt to crush the rebels and go "On to Richmond." South scores victory as Union troops flee back to Washington in disarray. McDowell replaced by Gen. McClellan.
"There They Waited" (2:53)
First Bull Run Scene - From Gods and Generals
"The Great Skeedadle" (4:29)
Causalities and Loses:
Union: 481 killed; 1,011 wounded; 1,216 missing TOTAL: 2,708
Confederacy: 387 killed; 1,582 wounded; 13 missing) TOTAL: 1,982
Consequence: The Union army's defeat made it painfully clear that the war would last much longer than 90 days and be harder fought than anyone had expected. It certainly would be no picnic.
Sullivan Ballou , 1861
Ballou was born the son of Hiram and Emeline (Bowen) Ballou, a distinguished Huguenot family in Smithfield, Rhode Island. He lost both of his parents at a young age and was forced to fend for himself. In spite of this, he attended boarding school at Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts. Following his graduation therefrom, he attended Brown University, where he was a member of Delta Phi, and went on to study law at the National Law School, in Ballston, New York. He was admitted to the Rhode Island bar and began to practice in 1853.
Ballou was active in public service. Shortly after being admitted to the bar, he was elected to the Rhode Island House of Representatives, where he served as a clerk, and later as the speaker. He was a staunch Republican and supporter of Abraham Lincoln. When war broke out, Ballou immediately left what appeared to be a promising political career and volunteered for military service with the 2nd Rhode Island Infantry. In addition to his combat duties, he served as the Rhode Island militia's judge advocate.
Ballou and 93 of his men were mortally wounded at Bull Run. In an attempt to better direct his men, Ballou took a horse mounted position in front of his regiment, when a 6-pounder solid shot from Confederate artillery tore off his right leg and simultaneously killed his horse. The badly injured Major was then carried off the field and the remainder of his leg was amputated. Ballou died from his wound a week after that Union defeat and was buried in the yard of nearby Sudley Church. After the battle the territory was occupied by Confederate forces. According to witness testimony, it was at this time that Ballou's corpse was exhumed, decapitated, and desecrated by Confederate soldiers possibly belonging to the 21st Georgia regiment. Ballou's body was never recovered.
In place of his body, charred ash and bone believed to be his remains were reburied in Swan Point Cemetery, Providence, Rhode Island. His wife, Sarah, never remarried. She later moved to New Jersey to live out her life with a son, William. She died in 1917 and is buried next to her husband. Ballou married Sarah Hart Shumway on October 15, 1855. They had two sons, Edgar and William. In his letter to his wife, Ballou attempted to crystallize the emotions he was feeling: worry, fear, guilt, sadness and, most importantly, the pull between his love for her and his sense of duty.
The letter was featured prominently in the Ken Burns documentary The Civil War, where it was paired with Jay Ungar's musical piece "Ashokan Farewell" and read by Paul Roebling. However, the documentary featured a shortened version of the letter, which did not contain many of Ballou's personal references to his family and his upbringing. It has been difficult to identify which of the several extant versions is closest to the one he actually wrote, as the original seems not to have survived. The following is an extended version:
An Offer Declined, April 20, 1861
Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln pages 349-350
Colonel Robert E. Lee resigns from the U.S. Army April 20, 1861
The day after Virginia seceded, Francis Blair, Sr., invited Colonel Robert E. Lee to his yellow house on Pennsylvania Avenue. A graduate of West Point, the fifty-four-year-old Lee had served in the Mexican War, held the post of superintendent at West Point, and commended the forces that captured John Brown at Harpers Ferry. General Scott regarded him as “the very best soldier I ever saw in the field.” Lincoln had designated Blair to tender Lee the highest-ranking military position within the president’s power to proffer.
I come to you on the part of President Lincoln,” Blair began, “to ask whether any inducement that he can offer will prevail on you to take command of the Union army?” Lee responded “as candidly and as courteously” as he could: “Mr. Blair, I look upon secession as anarchy. If I owned the four millions of slaves in the South I would sacrifice them all to the Union; but how can I draw my sword upon Virginia, my native state?”
When the meeting ended, Lee called upon old General Scott to discuss the dilemma further. Then he returned to his Arlington home to think. Two days later, he contacted Scott to tender his resignation from the U.S. Army. “It would have been presented at once,” Lee explained, “but for the struggle it has cost me to separate myself from a service to which I have devoted all the best years of my life & all the ability I possessed. During the whole of the time, more than 30 years, I have experienced nothing but kindness from my superiors and the most cordial friendship from my companions. . . . I shall carry with me to the grave the most grateful recollections of your kind consideration, & your name & fame will always be dear to me.”
That same day, a distraught Lee wrote to his sister: “Now we are in a state of war which will yield to nothing.” Though he could apprehend “no necessity for this state of things, and would have forborne and pleaded to the end for redress of grievances, real or supposed,” he was unable, he explained, “to raise my hand against my relatives, my children, my home. I have, therefore, resigned my commission in the Army, and save in defense of my native State (with the sincere hope that my poor services may never be needed) I hope I may never be called upon to draw my sword.” Shortly thereafter, Lee was designated commander of the Virginia state forces.
An Incompatibility of Temper
The North was no longer like the south. It becomes US vs THEM We no longer shared the same values and beliefs. "We separated because of incompatibility of temper. We are divorced, North from South, because we hate each other so much." Mary Chesnut, 1861
Charles Sumner - Paris 1838
The Greater Journey – Americans in Paris
by David McCulloch
Charles Sumner [page #131]
On Saturday, January 20th 1838, as he recorded in his journal, Charles Sumner attended a lecture at the Sorbonne on Philosophical theory delivered of Heraclites by Adolphe-Marie duCaurroy, a distinguished grey haired scholar that spoke extremely slow. Sumner began looking around the hall. He had quite a large audience, “Sumner wrote, “among whom I noticed two or three blacks, or rather mulattoes – the-thirds black perhaps- dressed quite a la mode and having the easy, jaunty air of young men of fashion…”… He watched closely. The black students were well received by the other students, he noted.
It was for Sumner a stunning revelation. Until this point he was not known to have shown any particular interest in the lives of black people, nether free blacks nor slaves. On a trip to Washington a few years earlier, traveling by rail through Maryland, he had seen slaves for the first time. They were working in the fields, and as he made clear in his journal, he felt only disdain for them. “They appear to be nothing more than moving masses of flesh, unendowed with anything of intelligence above that of brutes.” He was to think that way no longer.
It would be a while before Sumner’s revelation – that attitudes about race in America were taught, not part of “the nature of things”-would take effect in his career, but when it did, the consequence would be profound.
Rescue of Charles Nalle
On April 26, 1860, escaped slave Charles Nalle was kidnapped from a Troy bakery and taken to the District Circuit Court at State and First Streets, in Troy where he was to be sent back to Virginia under the Fugitive Slave Act. Hundreds of people, including Harriet Tubman, rushed to the site where a riot ensued, allowing Nalle to escape across the Hudson to West Troy and ultimately to freedom. Ultimately, money was raised to buy his freedom for $650. That was in effect his fourth liberation.
A Ride for Liberty
Born in 1824 in Lovell, Maine, Eastman Johnson took to art early in life, setting up a portrait studio in Augusta when he was 18 years old. He later worked in Boston and Washington, D.C., and in 1849 traveled to Europe where he received extensive training in drawing and painting.
In 1859, Johnson opened an exhibit in New York which featured Negro Life in the South. It was a turning point in his career -- one which would lead to his becoming, for many years, the foremost genre painter in the United States.
This painting, A Ride for Liberty -- The Fugitive Slaves, depicts a black family fleeing toward freedom. It is based on an incident which Johnson witnessed during the Civil War battle of Manassas. The mother, holding a small child in her arms, looks back apprehensively for possible pursuer.
John Tyler is my Grandfather
President John Tyler was born in 1790, but still has two living grandsons. We met with members of his family to find out how two generations managed to last through most of U.S. history. CBS News national correspondent Chip Reid explains.
Source Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGiL2PgC17A
The Quick Summary of Tyler's Grandchildren Former President John Tyler (1790-1862) fathered Lyon Gardiner Tyler in 1853 at age 63; Lyon Gardiner Tyler fathers ....Lyon Gardiner Tyler Jr in 1924 at age 71 and Harrison Ruffin Tyler in 1928 at age 75. Both are still alive today
Former President John Tyler, born 221 years ago, still has two living grandchildren. The one-term president isn't a well-known historical figure; he's probably best remembered for helping to push through the annexation of Texas in 1845, shortly before leaving office.
So, how is it possible that a former president who died 150 years ago would still have direct descendants alive today? As it turns out, the Tyler men were known for fathering children late in life. And that math is pretty outstanding when added up:
John Tyler was born in 1790. He became the 10th president of the United States in 1841 after William Henry Harrison died in office. Tyler fathered Lyon Gardiner Tyler in 1853, at age 63. Then, at the age of 71, Lyon Gardiner Tyler fathered Lyon Gardiner Tyler Jr. in 1924 and four years later at age 75, Harrison Ruffin Tyler. Both men are still alive today.
That means just three generations of the Tyler family are spread out over more than 200 years. President Tyler was also a prolific father, having 15 children (8 boys and 7 girls) with two wives. He even allegedly fathered a child, John Dunjee, with one of his slaves.
NOTABLE
He joined the South's secession efforts shortly before his death and was even elected to the Confederate House of Representatives.
Because of his Confederate ties, Tyler's is the only presidential death not officially mourned.
Tyler ascended to the presidency in 1841. Other things that happened that year: Canada became a nation; the United States Senate has its first filibuster, lasting nearly a month; the city of Dallas, Texas was founded.
Tyler was the first person to ascend to the presidency through succession as vice president.
The Dreams of El Dorado
The Mild, Mild West: On “Dreams of El Dorado: A History of the American West”
By Karl Jacoby
OCTOBER 13, 2019
FOR A PEOPLE OBSESSED with expansion, Americans have spent more than a century confused about how best to tell the history of their spread into the West. At the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893, attendees could step into one of the White City’s hastily constructed pavilions to listen to the professor Frederick Jackson Turner unveil his “frontier thesis.” Or they could cross the street to catch a performance by William “Buffalo Bill” Cody and his “Wild West and Congress of Rough Riders of the World,” the most popular show business act of its time.
Each figure offered a synoptic history of the West, but otherwise they diverged starkly from one another. Turner managed the neat trick of making “free land” the key factor in the rise of American democracy without ever once mentioning the dispossession of the continent’s indigenous peoples that made it possible. Cody, by contrast, made warfare with American Indians the preeminent feature of his Wild West Show. This trigger for this violence, however, was not US expansion but rather Native American aggression toward peaceful settlers. Among the highlights of his troupe’s performances were scenes in which real-life Indians, many of them recent survivors of violent encounters with the US Army, reenacted attacks on stagecoaches and log cabins only to be dispatched at the last minute through the heroics of Buffalo Bill and his “Cowboys.”
Present-day historians of the American West still find themselves wrestling with the errors of Turner and Cody. Over 30 years ago, Patricia Nelson Limerick published The Legacy of Conquest: The Unbroken Past of the American West, a book that sparked the “New Western History” with objections to Turner’s inattention to gender and ethnicity. Shortly afterward, Richard White released “It’s Your Misfortune and None of My Own”: A New History of the American West, a work that placed the federal government rather than rugged individuals at the center of the story.
Limerick’s and White’s books inspired a flood of new monographs about the American West, transforming a field that had degenerated into an academic backwater into one of the most dynamic areas of study in US history today. But no scholar attempted a single volume synthesis until this year when H. W. Brands, a professor at the University of Texas at Austin, published Dreams of El Dorado: A History of the American West.
Brands is a well-regarded biographer who tells his story through character sketches. He opens and closes his book with Teddy Roosevelt (the subject of Brands’s 1998 biography, T. R.: The Last Romantic), an archetype of the effete Easterner who reinvented himself under big Western skies. As one contemporary lamented after Roosevelt’s ascension to the nation’s highest office in 1901, “That damn cowboy is president of the United States.”
The rest of Brands’s narrative marches through a series of crisply written vignettes centered on various individuals, some of them well known (Lewis and Clark, Stephen Austin), others less so (Joseph Meek, an early fur trapper and settler to Oregon), most of them white and male (among the exceptions: the missionary Narcissa Whitman; the Nez Perce leader Chief Joseph; the Lakota holy man Black Elk). To the extent that Dreams of El Dorado advances a sustained argument, it is that the West’s promise of new beginnings and fresh starts often proved illusory: “More commonly […] the reality fell short — often far short — of the dreams.” In a nod to Turner’s nostalgia about the supposed close of the frontier in 1890, Brands situates the West’s significance in the past, with only a “residue” slipping through into our present day: “The gambling spirit of the Gold Rush found its echo in the venture capitalism of Silicon Valley.”
Although the book’s publication date is in October, Dreams of El Dorado has the feel of a book crafted for the Father’s Day market. Brands’s has a deft narrative touch and a talent for highlighting the human drama undergirding historical events. But Dreams of El Dorado is not challenging history. It is scholarship as entertainment, history as adventure story. The book’s purpose is not to cause the reader to rethink their conventional understanding of the American past, but rather to affirm what on some level they already know. Brands is Cody-like in his treatment of history as a vast theatrical pageant, and unfortunately Turner-esque in consigning the violence against indigenous people to the historical background.
If there is any larger insight to be gleaned from Dreams of El Dorado, it has to do with how difficult it remains for many historians to include a complete treatment of Native Americans in their narratives. Brands’s book appears on the heels of several other books by popular historians, both inside and outside the academy, that have struggled with making North America’s indigenous peoples meaningful actors in the past. Jill Lepore’s These Truths: A History of the United States purports to be a comprehensive single-volume history of the United States, but as Christine DeLucia detailed for LARB readers several months ago, for the vast majority of Lepore’s narrative, Indians are “simply ghosts, spectrally off-stage in the American story.” The title of David McCullough’s new book, The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of the Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West, betrays the book’s not-so-subtle biases. McCullough may be a two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, a recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and the very voice of history to many Americans thanks to his frequent narration of PBS documentaries (including Ken Burns’s The Civil War). But The Pioneers recycles tired 19th-century tropes of Indians as savage obstacles to white efforts to bring “American ideals” to the “unbroken wilderness.”
Brands is too smart a scholar to ignore Native Americans or to reduce them to cardboard stereotypes. But they exist nonetheless as foils to what in his telling emerges as the real story of the American West: white settlers exploring a new landscape and making it their own. Brands has little interest in the methodological challenges involved in Native history. He makes no use of indigenous records, such as the calendar sticks of the Tohono O’odham or the winter counts of the Lakota, to try to understand an Indian perspective of events. While he quotes at length from the well-known autobiography Black Elk Speaks, Brands confines to a brief footnote the questions over the reliability of Black Elk’s recollections: the spiritual leader’s words were filtered through both an interpreter and the imaginative pen of the Nebraska poet (and non-Native) John Neihardt. In reworking his interviews with Black Elk into a popular book, Neihardt obscured key details, such as the fact that his Lakota holy man was actually a catechist for the local Catholic Church. (Indeed, the Vatican is currently considering Black Elk for sainthood.) Dreams of El Dorado makes no attempt to explore the indigenous discourse about the genocidal practices of the United States that Jeffrey Ostler managed to unearth in his innovative, just published Surviving Genocide: Native Nations and the United States from the American Revolution to Bleeding Kansas.
Although Turner and Cody remain the most famous interpreters of the American West to present at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, they were not the only ones. The Windy City’s mayor invited the Potawatomi leader Simon Pokagon to speak at the fair as well. The Potawatomi people had once inhabited the Great Lakes region, including the land where Chicago now stood, a fact Pokagon was quick to point out to his listeners: “Where these great Columbian show-buildings stretch skyward, and where stands this ‘Queen City of the West’ once stood the red man’s wigwams.” Pokagon went on to decry the same US expansion that Turner and Cody had so celebrated: “The cyclone of civilization rolled westward; the forests of untold centuries were swept away; streams dried up; lakes fell back from their ancient bounds; and all our fathers once loved to gaze upon was destroyed, defaced, or marred.” Repurposing a traditional Potawatomi resource, Pokagon printed up his speech on birch bark and hawked copies, bearing the title The Red Man’s Rebuke, to nonplussed attendees at the World’s Fair.
Pokagon’s words soon sunk into obscurity. But one has to wonder what present-day histories might look like if the Potawatomi leader had served as the inspiration for future narratives about the American West rather than Turner or Cody. At a bare minimum, we might at last have an honest reckoning with the costs of US nation-building. For the West was not only won; it also was lost. The place we know today was constructed atop a preexisting indigenous world with a terrifying degree of violence and environmental destruction. Yet professional historians have often shied away from this topic, finding it unrelated to what they see as the central narrative: the growth, however imperfect and halting, of American democracy. In place of Brands’s elusive dreams, we might instead read about Pokagon’s enduring nightmare.
¤
"Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way"
Richard Murray, senior curator at the Smithsonian American Art Museum, shows how to "read" a history painting as he takes a look at an epic work by German painter Emanuel Leutze.