Spike

I hopped on our trusty Google Analytics this morning to see what the weekend traffic had been like for us, and boy was I in for a surprise. Apparently, one of our readers (and thanks go out to them) posted a link to my Co. Aytch recap onto Metafilter, resulting in a visitor spike of epic proportions. Here is the link to the thread, which contains some very useful comments and discussion. Some of it is rather critical (in a constructive way), and they actually make some fine points, particularly about my use of "demonstrate" vs. "hint at" or "suggest."

But, more word about our little to-do got out, and I never think that's a bad thing.

Those boys of Co. D, 1st TN

To tie in with Patrick's posting on Company AYTCH, I thought I would share the following from Adelicia McEwen German's Reminiscences of a School Girl during the War Between the States:
...the elderly people shiver with apprehension, for many of them remembered seeing the soldiers march away to Mexico in the 'forties', where many of them lie today...Not so with the younger element; It was one long drawn out holiday for them. The drilling was constantly going on at the Fair Ground...Seated on the fence on a hill back of our house we had a fine view of the young athletic soldier boys, who with their blood at fever heat, responded so cheerfully to the commands of their officers, Captain James P. Hanner, Lieut. Cary Harris and Lieut John L. House. The drilling kept up through the Spring and they became very proficient in the handling of arms.
The 18th of May, 1861, was the day set for the Williamson Greys, as they were called, to depart for Camp Cheatham, to be drilled for actual service, A never-to-be-forgotten day with the mothers, sweethearts and friends.
Early in the day, the Company was drawn up in front of the Presbyterian church. After a prayer by the Presbyterian pastor, Rev. Morey, the soldiers were presented with a pocket testament. The thoughtless fellows, many of them, threw them in the mud puddles by the road side on their way to the station, others carried them through the war, and one was sent back from Atlanta, stained with the life blood of our young relative [Kit Ridley pictured here] who proved himself the 'noblest Roman of them all'. Three young men sacrificed their blood on their country's altar, Richard Irvin, Henry Walker, and Kit Ridley.
To return to the station...the company marched to the station looking very soldierly in their black pants with gilt side stripes, grey coats rimeed with gilt braid and brass buttons, a grey cap setting off their uniforms. An immense crowd had gathered at the station to say good-bye from all parts of the country. The train blew and the hour for departure had come, brave mothers clung to their sons, fathers, overcome with emotion, shook their hands in farewell, hysterical sisters screamed, shy sweethearts tried to conceal their tears with their bonnets. Altogether it was the most emotional and saddest scene I ever witnessed. As the train moved off, Lieut. House waved his hand from the rear platform asking that the people take care of the ones left behind, and pledging himself to do the same for their sons. Four years hard service proved the truth of his promise; the ones that came home were loyal to him as long as he lived.

It is interesting to note the careless disregard that many of the boys of Company D showed for the bibles that they were given, and for you uniform buffs another cool description.

Co. Aytch Recap

As Lee's last post noted, the 145th Anniversary of the battle of Chickamauga was celebrated this weekend. And it was celebrated in two distinct ways, on and off the Military Park. At the NPS site, all of your intrepid bloggers were employed in presenting a bang-up weekend of interpretive programming that our increased visitor traffic enjoyed. Down the road, however, the "big show" reenactment took a nosedive for the worse when nationally known neo-Confederate and advocate of the myth of Black Confederate soldiers, H.K. Edgerton took top billing in the "education" portion of the event. It was beyond a sham. Out of curiosity, I stopped in on one of H.K's sermons (for really I don't want to call them lectures or talks... scholars give those), and was unsurprisingly disgusted before a full five minutes were up. The contrast between the scholarly and professional character of the NPS events and the circus-like atmosphere of the reenactment was even apparent to many park visitors who we found were leaving to come be educated with the NPS. It truly was a fantastic weekend.

For my part, as Lee has also said, I put together a little living history event. I've still got many lessons to unpack from this one: which I think means it was a success. But here is a brief AAR. We started out intending to go far beyond the boundaries of living history at a Park that has had one of the strongest traditions within the NPS Civil War community. We sought to recreate the famous Co. Aytch in age, physical condition, "look," and attitude. And, though our numbers may have been small, we succeeded in all of these these regards. The small numbers, though, were an extreme benefit for us, as we were able to bring our audience up close to see exactly what a platoon of that famous company looked like. What it looked like in its entirety:

Essentially, we argued that if we are to tell the full story of Company H, 1st Tennessee Vol. Infantry then we must look beyond Sam Watkins' famous book. Though it is a fine starting point, it is and must be understood as a product of a particular race, class, and worldview unique to the 1880s. Drawing from other scattered writings by and about the 1st, we claimed that discussing the soldiers who volunteered and about whom Sam wrote was only telling a fraction of the story. Underlying every story about every character in Co. Aytch are the stories that Sam consciously excluded, hoping they would become lost. What about the men who didn't volunteer? We know that of the more than 1,000 men in the 1st Tenn. there were at least 50 slaves who accompanied them into the field. Of the 50, we know the names of just 3, one of whom, Sanker, belonged to Sam himself. Where did their narrative go? Why are they not in Co. Aytch? We made the contested claim that Sanker's, Wash Webster's, and Uncle Ike's stories deserve equal footing with those of Tennessee Thompson, Billy Webster, and Alf Horsley.

I can truthfully say that the most stunning part of the event -- for me at least -- was Emmanuel Dabney's presence in the role of my body servant. It was a presence that has not been seen on that field since 1863. That simple presence in the -- or more properly outside of the -- ranks of Co. Aytch was the first step to re-finding these individuals who were fully participant in the events that made up Watkins' narrative but that would be lost to time if we rely on Watkins' postwar memory. Reflecting on the programs we did this weekend with some other long-time Chick-Chatt'ers we agreed that this was the first time that an African American voice had been heard on that battlefield, certainly all the more important that it was one from the Confederate side, too. With the "big show" down the road playing host to H.K. Edgerton's sketchy (at best) claims, it was a high note for scholarship in the parks. The contrast couldn't have been greater, and that is exactly what we need our National Parks to provide.

Aside from the many lessons, fine programs, and hilarious times we had this weekend, there will be two related moments which will stick with me forever. Both involved reinforcing -- to me and hopefully to the audience to whom we were speaking at the time -- the basic inhumanity of slavery. One, as I was delivering a tactical talk and it came time to drop knapsacks I unslung mine and let it fall to the ground. Before I could finish my sentence and place it in the stack with the platoon's, Emmanuel had walked up -- eyes down and hands folded -- and moved it before I could say a word. I instantly knew that I had an opportunity to demonstrate the institution's cruelty here, and so I did not acknowledge his act, did not thank him for it, did not make eye contact, did not stop my talk. My own cruelty -- even to make a teaching point to the audience -- made me shudder inside. In another talk, as I paced up and down in front of the audience I took off my kid gloves and held them behind me for Emmanuel to take. Again without looking back, without saying a word, without acknowledging him in the least, I demanded his service and his loyalty. I denied him the choice of taking my gloves or not; I required that he did. And as I felt those gloves leave my hand, and as I continued my talk without missing a beat, I was sickened.

The point is not that Emmanuel was more than willing to do these things during our programs; the point is not that we dispensed with our master-slave roles once the crowds left. The point is that we got to the essence of living history this weekend. We demonstrated for the public the horrifying nature of that master-slave relationship that the battlefield had not seen since 1863. But this time we were not fighting to maintain it. We were fighting to educate a public that often does not -- can not -- grasp the basic dehumanization that that relationship forced. This time we were fighting to give these invisible characters their shot at making history at Chickamauga.

The question now is, how do we make this an every day experience for visitors at our National Park Service sites? How can we make these lessons not for special events, but for each and every visitor who walks through our doors?

Update: 2 things.
Link to my Co. Aytch research blog
Link to Authentic-Campaigner thread to see other participants' reactions.

A Few D--D Fools Came Through

Recently, some of the blog staff were taking a tour of Elm Springs in Columbia, home of -- among others -- A.M. Looney, the original Captain of Co. H (Aytch), 1st Tennessee. Now, it is the SCV's headquarters and open for social events and touring. Well, we weren't expecting much out of the tour and were not disappointed, but in talking about the Maury Grays, our tour guide mentioned that "over 200 of them left and only a handful returned." And I called B.S. I had done some work with them in the CSRs and knew perfectly well that that was untrue. Untrue still -- or at least half true -- is how Sam Watkins wrote about the end of the regiment.

The day that we surrendered our regiment it was a pitiful sight to behold. If I remember correctly, there were just sixty-five men in all, including officers, that were paroled on that day. ... It was indeed a sad sight to look at, the old First Tennessee Regiment. A mere squad of noble and brave men, gathered around the tattered flag that they had followed in every battle through that long war.

Of course, Sam himself didn't see the end of the regiment, he stayed in Middle Tennessee after the disastrous winter campaign and took the oath in Memphis. But even the way the above is phrased is disingenuous. It implies that the rest of the unit were all killed or disabled, which , we find, is actually far from the truth. Running through the CSRs we find the real "what happened" to the men of Co. H. Of the 111 1861 Maury Grays we can see that by far the greatest source of attrition is being detached to other assignments and transferring to other units (and usually getting promoted in the process). This is followed in number by men being discharged usually for disability. Interesting among the discharges are those done in accordance with the Conscript Act of 1862, the famous "20 Negro Law" that exempted the family members of large slaveowners from military service, ostensibly to serve as pattyrollers guarding against the feared servile insurrection.

Note that those things that SRW rails against: men getting put in "bombproof" positions and going home on the "20 Negro" bill are prevalent among his 1861 comrades.

Then nearly half of the army was detailed for "corps" of some kind: "signal corps, engineer corps, ordinance corps, infirmary corps, sapper and miner corps, etc., etc., and when the private soldier saw all these corps put on detail and left him to do the fighting, he felt that our cause was lost. It made him sick of war, boys that had volunteered with him all get some kind of positions and left him to bear the brunt of battle. The first year there were eight in my mess. At Corinth...seven were promoted...

No wonder that Sam felt "the common soldier" was left to fight the war alone, because he himself saw a disproportionate number of his fellows leave the firing line during the war. Compared to the men who leave the line through transfers, relatively few of the men of Aytch actually get killed, wounded and disabled, or die of disease. For all the fights they were in, the losses of the company were slight. In the revised edition of Aytch, we see that Sam was starting to recognize this. I think these sentiments come out as a result of some alienation from his old comrades and a big falling out in the late 1880s, but they speak more to the truth.

Now, what became of the original 3,200? I can tell you. They were all promoted to Captains, Colonels, Generals, Commissaries, and staff officers, scouts, spies, special details, and a few d--d fools came through.

Yep.

We look at the men who join the unit later and find a changed picture indeed from the original MGs. Few of them can use elite family connections to get transferred away from the main line. We can see, though, that they don't stick with the fight to the end. A huge chunk of the conscripts desert the army, most of them in the Spring of 1863 after being conscripted in Febuary of that year. Though the later men were only 1/3 of the company's total strength, they make up nearly 3/4 of the company's desertions. One of the Maury Gray deserters, it must be remembered, is our own Sam Watkins. Look also at how many more of the later additions per captia were captured in battle, leading to questions about how willing they were to go over to the enemy.

There are some fascinating trends here that I want to explore further. Use the comments section to point out any you see.

Co. Aytch, Confederate Everymen?

Well, since Lee led off with something from some of his ongoing research, I thought I might do the same with mine. I am currently looking into the "real" Co. Aytch from Sam Watkins' famous old standby. Seems to me that as great a reputation as Sam has gotten for being the likable "Confederate everyman" (thanks to Mssrs. Wiley and Foote) the facts don't quite line up with the reality. To whit:

The following are the occupations of members of Co. H, 1st Tennessee Infantry. They are broken down into two groups, the original enlistees, the Maury Grays of which Sam himself was a member, and the latter additions who enlisted or were conscripted at various times. Numbers are low, you notice that neither column adds up to 100 men, but these are the ones who appear in the 1860 (and in some cases the 1850) census.

Maury Grays' Occupations:
Mechanic, various occupations- 11
Farmer (nonslaveholding)- 10
Farmer (small slaveholder)- 8
Lawyer- 6
Clerk in store- 6
Student- 4
Apprentice, various- 4
Professional, various- 3
Farmer (planter)- 3
Court Clerk- 2
Laborer- 1
Printer- 1

Father's occupation for those with no occupation listed:
Farmer (planter)- 6
Professional, various- 2

Take a look at how socially and economically top-heavy the Maury Grays are. While there are poor laborers, and slightly better-off mechanics, the percentage of professionals, lawyers, druggists, clerks, is decidedly greater in this group than in Columbia as a whole. Clue number 1 that this ain't your average bear.

The later additions tell a different story than. Here we see a more representative sample of all strata of Middle TN society. The nonslaveholding farmer dominates, and the number of professionals has dropped dramatically. There are some younger sons of planters who made their way into the company after the initial wave, but by and large we see a markedly less affluent set in this group.

Later Additions to Co. H, Occupations:
Farmer (nonslaveholding)- 7
Farmer (Small slaveholder)- 4
Clerk- 2
Student- 2
Mechanic- 2
Father is a slavholding farmer- 2
Laborer- 1
Watch Maker- 1

So, some questions to ponder. Who were the Confederate everymen in Co. H, 1st Tennessee. Was it Sam and his bunch, or the more "common" men like one of the small farmers, Mr. Fain King? How did these later enlistees interact with the original men? We are familiar with the tightly knit small group cohesion that can form in military units, veterans shunning replacements and similar phenomena. What happens to that effect when those replacements are from a different social and economic background as yourself? Did these two groups interact much within the company?

A clue to that relationship between the two groups lies in observing how often our standard source, Sam Watkins, mentions men who came into the company later. Unsurprisingly, those names don't often show up, and when they do they are often only in passing. Fred Bailey's work with the TN Veterans' Questionnaires sheds some light on the of inter-class relations in Tennessee regiments, but even his thorough reading of the evidence leaves these sorts of questions unanswered or maybe unanswerable. Unfortunately, much of the dynamics of the unit's daily interaction is inference. There simply isn't much to base assumptions on one way or the other.

But give some thought to what it meant to be a Maury Gray in Co. H. What did your above-average social and economic status mean for your life before the war? How did that status affect your opinions on secession, slavery, and your decision to enlist? Were you one of Mark Weitz's deserters or Jason Phillips' diehards? How did you react to defeat, surrender, and the postwar world?

Some fun to ponder over the next little while...