Layton Morris: Missing in Action

Today I received this low-resolution scan of Corp. Layton Morris of the Twenty-fourth U.S. Colored Infantry. It appeared for auction on eBay, date unknown.

The individual who sent it to me is a genealogist who specializes in researching African American descendants. This person does not own the original image, which appears to be a carte de visite inserted into a period photograph album page.

I want to find out who the rightful owner of this image is, and, if he or she would share this photograph with me for my forthcoming book on African American soldiers.

Please contact me if you have any information about this image.

Unique Wartime Letter Proves Awareness of Historic Role

A letter written by the surgeon of the Eighth U.S. Colored Infantry less than a month after the Battle of Olustee is unique in several respects.

The author, Alexander Peter Heichhold (1825-1882, pictured right) a white Pennsylvania physician in his late thirties, was a staunch supporter of equal rights. According to a biographer, “The doctor was an ultra Republican, and an early advocate for the enlistment of colored troops.” Dr. Heichhold took the first opportunity afforded him to leave his original regiment, the 105th Pennsylvania Infantry, and join the Eighth.

The letter describes in detail the regiment's participation in the Battle of Olustee, Florida, on Feb. 20, 1864. It suffered the loss of more than half its men and officers, one of the highest casualty rates of any regiment in any battle during the entire war. While battle letters are fairly common, the descriptive quality of this account is as impressive as its accounting of events. An excerpt:

[Brig. Gen. Truman Seymour] now came up, and pointing in front towards the railroad, said to Col. [Charles Wesley] Fribley, commander of the 8th, "take your regiment in there," a place which was sufficiently hot to make veterans tremble, and yet we were to enter it with men who had never heard the sound of a cannon. Col. Fribley ordered the regiment, by company, into line, double-quick march, but, before it was fairly in line, the men commenced dropping like leaves in autumn; still, on they went, without faltering or murmuring, until they came within two hundred yards of the enemy, when the struggle for life and death commenced...

The letter was published in the March 12, 1864 edition of The Christian Recorder, a weekly newspaper distributed to black regiments.

Heichhold makes a point in his letter that proves he (and more than likely the men with whom he served) were very aware of the historic role in breaking through color barriers as they fought for their own freedom:

Here, on the field of Olustee, was decided whether the colored man had the courage to stand without shelter, and risk the dangers of the battle-field; and when I tell you that they stood with a fire in front, on their flank, and in their rear, for 2 1/2 hours, without flinching, and when I tell you the number of dead and wounded, I have no doubt as to the verdict of every man who has gratitude for the defenders of his country, white or black.

Photo of Surg. Heichhold from the American Civil War Research Database.

On Private Soldiers and Line Officers

I am fond of repeating "The history of the Civil War is the stories of its soldiers" and other such sayings to convey the essence of what drives me to do what I do. During the past week I came upon a Civil War veteran with a similar view.

Captain George Hillyer of the Confederate Ninth Georgia Infantry noted, "It is interesting to talk about the privates and line officers. We all admire the generals and our eyes kindle and beam, and our ears are full of enthusiasm as we pay deserved tributes to their fame. But it is to the private soldier and the line officers, many of them just as brave as the most famous general, to whom full justice has not been, and can never be done."

This quote appears on page 13 of My Gettysburg Battle Experiences (Thomas Publications, 2005), edited by Gregory A. Coco.

The Mystery of "Field and Fireside"

I came across an 1873 review of a play, Field and Fireside, described as an original American society comedy. According to the Nov. 18, 1873, edition of the San Francisco Bulletin, "The drama is a portrayal of some of the incidents of the rebellion, and is full of the exciting scenes of war and the quiet, happy scenes of peace; scenes of love and hatred, of sorrow and shame, of friendship and treachery. It presents the comic and the serious side of life; its fantasies and its realities."

Characters include Captain Airey, a patriotic Union officer, his love interest, Delia Derrick, her father, the unscrupulous "Old Derrick," the lovesick war correspondent "Merrygrave," and the exaggerated Englishman, Lieutenant-Colonel Fitz Roy Bull, of the Royal Fusileers. Eliza the maid and servants "Wash" and "John" are also in the cast.

I've found little else about this play other than a few newspapers ads dated 1873 and 1874. One of them notes the play was written by Williams. My working theory is that this is Dr. John B. Williams. His obituary from the Oct. 15, 1878, New York Herald:

JOHN B. WILLIAMS, M.D.
Dr. John B. Williams died at his residence, No. 252 Fifth avenue, Brooklyn, on Sunday evening, October 13. He was born in Cambridge, England; studied medicine in London and Paris, and after completing his professional education came to this country about twenty-five years ago. In 1856 he started the Family Journal in Baltimore. It was the first story and sketch paper ever published in the South and had a large circulation. The war ut a stop to this enterprise, and the Doctor became connected with various family papers at the North and gained reputation as a writer. He was a man of fine literary taste, general ability and attractive social qualities. His age was fifty-two years and he leaves a wife and two sons.

If you have any knowledge about Field and Fireside, I want to hear from you! I am particularly interested in learning if a copy of the play is in existence.

"The Happiest Moments of His Life"

Col. Ozora Pierson Stearns (1831-1896) of the Thirty-ninth U.S. Colored Infantry, in an interview with an historian, recounted his participation in the ill-fated Battle of the Crater along the front lines at Petersburg, Virginia, on July 30, 1864. In this excerpt, Stearns' graphic account of the battle caught my attention:

At the mine explosion in front of Petersburg July 30, Colonel Stearns’ regiment was the last to go into the fight after the rebels had rallied and formed a cordon of fire along the whole front. As they were passing the crater, moving by the flank, a cannon-ball took off the head of one of his men near the front of his regiment, and threw the head of the column into some confusion. The air was full of grape canister-shells and minie-balls. The colonel mounted a chunk of clay about three feet high, and drew his sword and shouted to his regiment with a voice that could be heard above the din of the battle, and it immediately came into line and filed past him in excellent order. Those were, he declares, the happiest moments of his life.

The last sentence brought to mind Gen. Robert E. Lee's often repeated quote, "It is well that war is so terrible — lest we should grow too fond of it." I suspect that Stearns, who went on to become a respected judge, serve a stint as U.S. Senator, and become a staunch supporter of women's suffrage, would not have ever wanted to be in such a position of danger again. And yet, it is clear that in that moment at the edge of the Crater, as he stood atop a boulder with a commanding view of the utter chaos unfolding around him in contrast to the orderly procession of his men, he experienced two extreme emotions almost simultaneously, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.

How you or I would react to such battlefield stress is an unknown. Would we feel elated, as Stearns recalled in later years, or would we be forever damaged by the experience? Or both?

Stearns' recollection of the Battle of the Crater continues:

When the rebels made their final charge, after nearly the whole line had given way, Colonel Stearns rallied a few men and was holding a short piece of the line just at the right of the crater, when a shell burst, seemingly right in his face, which stunned him for a moment. When he recovered he was alone — all others had fallen or fled. There were some still fighting in the crater. He went into it to see what could be done. He saw it was impossible to hold it. This was just after the Forest massacre. He thought, if captured, he would be hung. He concluded to try and reach the Union lines, one hundred and fifty yards away. As he started, several started with him. They had gone but a few yards when every man that started with him had fallen. In his mind he gave up all hope and said: “Well, you’ve got me now, and you’ll shoot me in the back, but you shan’t shoot me running.” He then stopped running, took out his sword and walked slowly, clipping weeds. He reached the old line of works, leaped over them, and commenced preparing for an expected assault on that line. Just then another shell burst, seemingly in his face. Against his right shoulder was a cavalry soldier and against his left a colored soldier. The shell tore off the shoulder of the cavalry soldier so he could see the beating of his lung, and tore away the chin of the colored soldier. The colonel was unharmed. He lost in this engagement ten officers and one hundred and eighty-five men killed and wounded. His colors had thirteen ball holes through them. His color-bearer, at his request, was voted by congress a medal of honor for bravery in the battle.

— Butterfield, Consul Willshire. “Bench and Bar of Duluth.” Magazine of Western History (March 1889). Photo from Wikipedia.

"Commanded by Black Officers"

On April 11, 1864, J.P. Campbell, Baltimore correspondent for The Christian Recorder, a weekly newspaper distributed to black regiments, wrote about the parade of the Thirty-ninth U.S. Colored Infantry through downtown Baltimore. Of special note is the mention of a black captain, George A. Hackett (1806-1870), a prominent local leader and an activist for African American rights. Hackett was not a member of the Thirty-ninth. It appears he had the honor of riding at the head of the regiment as it marched through the city. This account was published on April 16, 1864:

The 39th Regiment U.S.C.T., had a grand parade on last Thursday. The occasion was, that the Rev. A.W. Wayman, had invited them through Col. Bowman, to his church on that day, to hear a sermon preached for their especial benefit. The Colonel consented to this proposition. They came to Bethel Church, and the sermon was preached by Bro. Wayman. It was well received; and, at the conclusion, a resolution was passed, requesting a copy of the original for publication, to be distributed among the soldiers. the day was pleasant, and hundreds of persons were in attendance upon the occasion. Anxious spectators of both sexes were there, and several gentlemen of the clerical order; among whom, we noticed the Rev. S.H. Chase, an out-spoken advocate for the rights of his race. It would have done your soul good, to have seen our colored Captain, George A. Hackett, mounted upon a white charger, dressed in full military costume, commanding this regiment, marching through the streets of Baltimore, after the heart-cheering notes of a new brigade band, and gazed upon by admiring hosts. They marched, not through the back streets, lanes and alleys, but through the main, the fashionable, and the most aristocratic streets of the city. What a wonderful thing, if not a miracle, to see a regiment of colored soldiers, commanded by black officers, marching through the streets of the city of Baltimore, unmolested by slaveholders and their miserable wretched minions; but so it is, and they cannot prevent it.

What Will Be Gained by the Present War?

This is a question that Sgt. Charles W. Singer of the 107th U.S. Colored Infantry asked and then answered in a letter to the editor of the Christian Recorder (Philadelphia, Pa.). This is an excerpt of the complete letter published on Oct. 8, 1864.

The question has frequently been asked: What will be gained by the present war? I ask, in return: What will you not lose by a mongrel state of peace? We would lose the best opportunity that has ever been afforded us to show the whole world that we are willing to fight for our rights. Why should not the black slave of the South fight for his liberty as well as the white serf of Russia? A slave is but a slave, and a man is but a man. Age or color is nothing - blood will tell all. The so-called southern Confederacy is fighting for the establishment of a Government, which will have for its corner-stone the perpetuation of human slavery - the degradation of the many for the purpose of elevating the few; but never shall they succeed so long as I can raise my arm against them. Who ever learned in the school of base submission the lessons of freedom, courage and independence? When did submission to a wrong induce an adversary to cease his encroachments? Some say: "Show me what the colored man has to fight for, and then I will go." You cannot see it now; but wait until some future day, and it will unfold itself most gloriously to the whole country. We want the rights of freemen, and must have them; but we can never get them if the South gain its independence. If I were now a slave at the South, my motto would be: "Give me liberty, or give me death!" I hope that motto will ring throughout the entire length and breadth of the rebel States, and fire the hearts of the men. Shall we not console our aged mothers with the hope, that, when hereafter their souls, crowned with the garlands of martyrdom, look down from the home of the blessed, the united joys of the heavens shall thrill through their immortal spirits, seeing their dear people free from the bondage of slavery?

Ulysses S. Grant Goes Undercover

I came across the following anecdote while searching for information about the Union military hospital at Point of Rocks, located along the Appomattox River near City Point, Virginia, where Maj. Gen. U.S. Grant (pictured right) established his headquarters during the Siege of Petersburg in 1864-1865.

The story appears on pages 213-214 of Under the Guns: A Woman's Reminiscences of the Civil War by Annie Wittenmyer (1827-1900), who served as a nurse during the war. She writes that the most notable feature of the Point of Rocks hospital was its kitchens and the high-quality, seemingly home-cooked meals that came from them. She adds that their fame quickly spread along the lines, and attracted a great number of surgeons to learn if the reports were true. "To many it seemed incredible that the cooking for the very sick could be so well managed right along the front lines." Bolstered by the positive feedback, she took it upon herself to extend an invitation to the top army commander:

At my request, General Grant, commanding the United States forces with headquarters at City Point, visited these famous kitchens.

Himself and two of his staff went in disguise.

With his slouch hat drawn down, and coming in citizen's clothing, no one noticed him. They stood by the door of the largest kitchen, while the dinner was issued. He asked, when the food had been sent out, a few questions and looked at the bill of fare, then followed to the wards to see the patients receive it.

He said, when I next came down from Washington and called at headquarters, that he thought it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. He was unusually enthusiastic.

"Why," said he, "those men live better than I do; and so many of them too. How they manage to cook such a variety for so many hundreds is what puzzles me."

The he told me about his going through the wards while they were taking their dinner, and noticing how greatly they enjoyed the food. And when told THAT THE MOST OF THIS FOOD CAME FROM THE COMMUTATION OF GOVERNMENT RATIONS, he was still more surprised.

When he was passing through one of the wards, a convalescing soldier, taking him to be a delegate of the Christian Commission, called out, "Say, Christian, won't you bring me a pair of socks?"

"I'll see that you get a pair," the general responded, and passed out; but he arranged to have the man get a pair of socks.

Progress Report

Yesterday I emailed my editor at The Johns Hopkins University Press an end-of-the-year update on the African American book. To date, I have secured scans of 74 images, and researched and written 15 profiles. I had set a goal of 75 images and 10 profiles, and so am pleased with my progress.

This year's goal is to locate 21 more images (for a total of 95) and write 45 more profiles. This will be a challenge, and I am cautiously optimistic.

Also mentioned in my email: "Looking ahead, 2012 marks the 150th anniversary of the first organized black regiments, and 2013 the 150th of the U.S. War Department making the organization of black troops official. The publication of the book with these dates in mind may be advantageous."

Time to get to work!