Category: Primary Sources Page 2 of 3

I’m still being overwhelmed by all of the resources available. Yesterday evening, I traveled to our public library (to pick up Professor Pinsker’s book, Lincoln’s Sanctuary) and I was greeted by a sign inviting me to attend a dedication ceremony “in honor of the late Edgar T. Brown and his extensive local history collection.” When I inquired, I discovered that Virginia Beach has a substantial local history section, although very little of it is digitized or easily available. As with Colin Macfarlane’s quest to find Henry W. Spradley, there would have to be substantial time spent with the microfiche reader.

I also did some searching (not researching) on the internet to find local civil war diaries. While this search still continues, I was able to locate some sources that may be of use to those seeking readily-available primary source materials of this era. The University of Virginia, Virginia Military Institute, and the College of William and Mary have special collections accessible to the general public.

My biggest concern is having the time to develop all of these resources into a workable positive force in my classroom. As Rebecca Winslow responded to an earlier post of mine, “More and more I am beginning to understand the mile wide inch deep teaching when we should be doing it quite the opposite.” There is such pressure in my school system to follow a pacing guide in order to raise standardized test scores. For example, since we are in yet another presidential election year, we were told not to teach the election process in the fall, but rather when it falls in the curriculum (it’s unit 6 and it would be taught around February). Why? Supposedly, there was research that demonstrated that students scored better on standardized test scores following the pacing guide of our curriculum. Wouldn’t the elections count as a “teachable moment,” in the jargon of our chosen profession?

Oops, it appears that I am getting off topic. This post was supposed to focus on finding sources for civil war diaries. I wouldn’t want to be accused on not following the curriculum!

A Historical Research “How To”

By goggs19

In Digital Storytelling, Discussion, Primary Sources

I was very impressed by the highly recommended, student film on Henry Spradley. I admire this film for two reasons. One, for the quality of the storytelling, and two, for the way in which it documents the realities and rewards of persistent research.

1. Telling a compelling story in historical context

I teach freshmen and sophomore history students in Chicago, Illinois. Each year our students, at all grade levels, are required to do a Chicago Metro History Fair project. This project takes a lot of time and effort during the first Semester, and most of the laborious work is done outside of class. In the end, students produce either a paper, exhibit, documentary, or performance. Seventy-Five percent will choose to do an exhibit and several will do papers, but only a small handful will attempt to create a documentary. Some will choose a documentary because they have experience with iMovie (or other programs). A few of them are even good at it. But where many of them struggle is making the video compelling to watch, while still being true to the historical content and overall purpose of the project.

2. The rewards of Research

Does it sound silly to say I miss my college library? I miss the feeling of having the world at my fingertips and instant access to countless databases. Research seems easy there. I think avoiding the dangers of search vs. research becomes easier with access to the right tools. I take my students to library or computer lab to show them student-friendly online databases. I harp on the jewels that can be found at local libraries, and try to set them up with a visit to the archives of the Chicago History Museum. I try to tell myself that I’m helping them “research”. I know that probably all go home and just do a simple Google “search” on their computers.

signing statements and executive orders

By mike kleiner

Matt talked about signing statements.

The American Presidency Project tracks signing statements from Hoover through Obama, as well as executive orders back to 1826 (Ironically, or not, the year Jefferson died. His was one of the most eloquent voices cautioning against such power in the executive.)

I’d also like to add a plug for David Gray Adler, one of the most articulate presenters on presidential power I have ever heard. A recent article is here: Executive power is ‘pregnant with menace’

Have you written your story?

By shannonosgood

In Digital Storytelling, Discussion, Primary Sources

For the past few days I have been thinking ahout Catherine Clinton’s guest lecture on Harriet Tubman. In the beginning of the lecture Catherine indicated that her research proved to be challenging because Harriet Tubman didn’t leave a diary. She said much was dictated but there were minimal written records. I’ve been thinking about future historians and how they will capture our 21st century historical figures. We are innundated with communication via tweets, facebook posts, blogs & websites. Will this plethora of information make research for historians easier or more difficult?

Look at how Twitter is being used to track Obama & Romney sentiment in the upcoming presidential election. Most politicians have personal websites & use social media to connect with their consituents. I’m sure we will see lower voter turnout in the next eletion that people who actually “follow” or “like” Presidential candidates on the internet.

Finally, what is your written legacy? I know very little about my grandparents & great grandparents and often wish my ancestors left written diaries for myself and my family to read and explore. Have any of you purposefully started a blog or diary to convey personal or family history to future generations? The only thing I record are small anecdotes in cookbooks. After trying a recipe- I love to share who I made the meal for and if we liked it or not. Perhaps listening to Catherine Clinton’s assessment of how there is such minimal written information for Harriet Tubman may have sparked the same refecltion in you. What is your story and how will future generations remember you?

War as an Instrument of Policy

By nathanramin

McPherson’s talk on Lincoln as Commander-in-Chief is fascinating. I hear frequently about presidents learning and improving on the job, most notably Barack Obama’s apparently increased confidence/competence in regards to foreign policy. This Washington Post editorial is just one of many articles on the topic: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/in-foreign-policy-obama-learns-on-the-job/2012/05/10/gIQAHSJ4FU_story.html

Although it is perhaps difficult to measure Pres. Obama’s successes or failures in real time, we have the luxury to look back and reflect on Lincoln’s actions. What we can see is a president who evolves with experience, but nevertheless, as McPherson notes, maintains three specific goals throughout the war:

1. refusing to compromise on his policy of preserving the union, despite his generals’ fixation on the CSA as a foreign country
2. mobilizing northern resources efficiently and destroying enemy resources
3. putting into place a team of military commanders who actually did destroy enemy armies

Lincoln was not successful early on, but ultimately was able to get his generals to do what he needed them to do. Whereas others shied away from the idea of war, he saw it as a necessary political tool. Lincoln believed in the Union, and was ready to do whatever it took to preserve it.

McPherson ends with a great essential question: Was Lincoln the only person who could have effectively restored the Union? I’m not sure how this research project would work, but perhaps students could examine the qualities and beliefs of contemporary figures — Douglas and McClellan stand out — and locate primary sources relevant to their potential policy positions. Would Stephen Douglas have preserved the Union? Would McClellan?

Civil War Jim

By goggs19

In Digital Storytelling, Discussion, Primary Sources

I’ve kept a folder on my computer for years entitled “family archives” where I’ve collected scanned news articles, obituaries, photos and census data. It’s the modern version of an old binder my father keeps of yellowed newspaper articles and handwritten notes. Back in April 2012 I think I spent a whole two days on the computer after the 1940 census data came out searching, locating, and saving every document with a family member’s name. What I haven’t done enough of is put these documents together or asked myself what kind of story they really tell. Inspired by the stories of Civil War soldiers and their families, I’ve mined several resources (family stories, the “family archives” file, local history archives through the Pittsfield Library, etc.) to tell you this personal story.

James Goggin’s (or Goggins) parents came to the United States from Macroom, County Cork, Ireland in the early 1830s. Eventually his family settled in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. It was there that he was born, raised, and eventually married Ellen Denny, probably sometime in his early 20s.

In April 1861 the Civil War began with the firing on Fort Sumter. That same month the Allen Guard organized volunteers from the hill towns of Western Massachusetts and marched to Springfield, MA to report for service.[1] James Goggins, age 24, was among them.

James Goggins would go on to serve two 90 day tours in the Union Army. He must have come to some injury during his first tour, since he terminated his service nearly two weeks before expiration. The cause, “disability”. What the disability was, I do not know. However, it must not have been serious since he apparently did return to the war again for a second tour of duty.

Gravestone of James “Civil War Jim” Goggins in St. Joseph Cemetary, Pittsfield, MA (Courtesy of Massachusetts Gravestone Photo Project)

James Goggins never saw battle. He never made it south of Maryland. The Allen Guard and 8th Massachusetts Regiment’s purpose in Baltimore was to protect railroad and communication lines. As a slave state, Maryland’s loyalty to the Union was questionable, particularly in those early days. Later, the 8th Regiment was sent to Annapolis and James Goggins, along with the other members of Company K, guarded the USS Constitution from “rebel mischief” [3] Family legend is that toward the end of his service he reportedly returned to Massachusetts via “Old Ironsides” when it returned to New England.

James Goggins survived the Civil War. He survived his brief “disability”. He survived the dangers of Maryland, Baltimore and Annapolis. But he did not survive to see the 1870s. He died in 1865 of lock jaw, or tetanus, in Pittsfield,MA. According to the 1870 US Census, he left behind not only his widow, Ellen Denny, but also two children: Ellen or “Nellie” (6) and James T. (4), likely born after his father’s death.

1870 US Census, Pittsfield, MA

Nellie, who never married, would live to the age of 96. She was buried with her parents in 1960 (see gravestone above) James T. married and had four children of his own. Both siblings remained in Pittsfield. They must have remained close. After their mother died in 1910, Nellie lived with her brother’s family for many years (according to the 1920 and 1940 Census Records, see below).

1920 United States Census; showing members of James T. Goggins’ household

1940 United States Census data

“Civil War Jim” was my great-great-great grandfather. Most of what I knew about him before today came from stories my father told me. I knew where he was born, that he had served in the Allen Guard, rode on the Constitution, and died of lock jaw. I knew he had a son James. I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. But before today I never knew he had a daughter, or what his wife’s name was. When I came across this image of his gravestone I was very excited, but almost immediately questioned it. My own grandparents are buried in St. Joseph Cemetery, but I’ve never seen this particular one. I knew what “Civil War Jim” died of, but I’d always imagined that he’s lived longer than 27 years.

The image I had of “Civil War Jim” in my mind was always based on a cross between what I thought a perfect Civil War soldier should be and a younger version of my grandfather (another James Goggins).

Now I feel I can put together a more intimate and realistic picture of who James Goggins was. He was 23 when he went away to war – my younger brother’s age. He left at home his young wife but no children. He must have been eager to fight since he joined immediately. Service in Maryland may have been very boring, guarding railroads and ships. I’m sure Ellen was relieved that he was away from the fighting. Was his ride on the Constitution the only time he’d been “at sea”? He barely ever knew his children. He might not have even known he would have a son when he died. Ellen was lucky enough to see her husband come home from the war but at age 24 (the age I am now) she was a widow with two young children. How different was her pain and loneliness compared to women like Anne Colwell?

[1] George Warren Nason, History and Complete Roster of the Massachusetts Regiments; Minute Men of ’61 [Boston, 1910]

[2] Record of the Massachusetts Volunteers 1861-1865. Volume 1. [Adjunct General, Boston: 1868]

[3] Christopher Marcisz, “When the Civil War Began in the Berkshires”. April 11, 2011. Times Union. [http://blog.timesunion.com/berkshires/when-the-civil-war-began-for-the-berkshires/1247/]

Sullivan Ballou Letter

By Beth

In Discussion, Primary Sources, Word Clouds

I truly love this haunting letter written by Sullivan Ballou to his wife just one week before he was killed at the First Battle of Bull Run. So interesting and beautiful to see how it is represented in a word cloud.

THE LETTERJuly the 14th, 1861

Washington D.C.

My very dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the brightest day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan

Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the first Battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861.

Born March 28, 1829 in Smithfield, R.I., Ballou was educated at Phillips Academy in Andover, Mass.; Brown University in Providence, R.I. and the National Law School in Ballston, N.Y. He was admitted to the Rhode Island Bar in 1853.

Ballou devoted his brief life to public service. He was elected in 1854 as clerk of the Rhode Island House of Representatives, later serving as its speaker.
He married Sarah Hart Shumway on October 15, 1855, and the following year saw the birth of their first child, Edgar. A second son, William, was born in 1859.
Ballou immediately entered the military in 1861 after the war broke out. He became judge advocate of the Rhode Island militia and was 32 at the time of his death at the first Battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861.

When he died, his wife was 24. She later moved to New Jersey to live out her life with her son, William, and never re-married. She died at age 80 in 1917.
Sullivan and Sarah Ballou are buried next to each other at Swan Point Cemetery in Providence, RI. There are no known living descendants.

Ironically, Sullivan Ballou’s letter was never mailed. Although Sarah would receive other, decidedly more upbeat letters, dated after the now-famous letter from the battlefield, the letter in question would be found among Sullivan Ballou’s effects when Gov. William Sprague of Rhode Island traveled to Virginia to retrieve the remains of his state’s sons who had fallen in battle. – information taken from pbs.org

For Cause and…

By jmklax