The Veteran Reserve Corps in the Civil War

Chasing History: Exploring My Ancestral Roots - Blog Post #30

By Tonya Graham McQuade

So, I received another fun package this weekend. This one included a packet of military records that Kathy, the genealogist from the Andrew County Historical Society and Museum, printed out for me from fold3 - another “add on” subscription service available through Ancestry.com. I have never subscribed to it, but when she told me she had found some relevant military records for my GGG Grandfather James Calaway Hale, I was happy to send a check and have her print them out! 

With excitement, I discovered the records included another letter James wrote, this one to Union Gen. Clinton B. Fisk in Jan 1865. Fisk has originally been Colonel of James's regiment, the 33rd Missouri Volunteer Infantry, when he first joined up in 1862. Now, Fisk was in St. Louis. In the letter, James explains a bit of his history - so I learned some dates I didn’t know for certain before (such as that he enlisted on August 14, 1862, in St. Joseph, Missouri, and left his home in Andrew County on August 30 to join his regiment in St. Louis, where he was mustered into service on September 5, 1862). He also expressed his hope that Gen. Fisk might be able to offer some additional financial help to his family, who were struggling financially without him at home.

There were also many of his “Company Muster Roll” cards, showing his status by month and year as to whether he was “present” or “absent” in his regiment. The cards confirm when he first got sick and had to stay behind in Helena, Arkansas, while his regiment went south; specify the date he left his regiment to head north to St. Louis; and clarify when he arrived at the General Hospital in Benton Barracks.

Most importantly, the records informed me of an important detail I had previously not known: James was not just a patient sitting around the hospital for two years. He was officially transferred to the Invalid Corps in July 1863, and he was stationed at Marine Hospital in St. Louis with assigned duties. He was NOT waiting to be well enough to rejoin his old regiment. He had a new regiment.

James was transferred on July 29, 1863, to the 13th Company, 2nd Battalion, of the Invalid Corps, which was created in April 1863 “to make suitable use in a military or semi-military capacity of soldiers who had been rendered unfit for active field service on account of wounds or disease contracted in line of duty, but who were still fit for garrison or other light duty, and were, in the opinion of their commanding officers, meritorious and deserving."

These were men who had lost limbs or eyes, suffered from rheumatism (as did James) or epilepsy, were experiencing other chronic illnesses or diseases, or were traumatized by what we now call PTSD. Soldiers were, by this time, in short supply - and wounded and ill soldiers who previously would have likely been granted a medical discharge were needed to serve guard duty, do supply runs, escort and watch over prisoners of war, assist with clerical work, march in parades, and help with cooking and cleaning - thus freeing up other able-bodied soldiers for the front lines.

According to a poster seeking men to join the Invalid Corp: “Only those faithful soldiers who, from wounds or the hardships of war, are no longer fit for active field duty will be received in this Corps of Honor. Enlistments will be for three years, unless sooner discharged. Pay and allowances same as for officers and men of the United States infantry; except that no premiums or bounties for enlistment will be allowed. This will not invalidate any pensions or bounties which may be due for previous services.”

The poster also described the uniforms adopted for both officers and enlisted men in the corps. James would have been issued a “jacket, of sky-blue kersey, with dark-blue trimmings, cut like the cavalry jacket, to come well down on the shoulders. Trowsers, present regulation of sky-blue. Forage Cap, present regulation.” Those who were “most efficient and able-bodied" were armed with muskets and placed in the First Battalion. Those, like James. “of the next degree of efficiency, including those who have lost a hand, or an arm; and the least effective, including those who have lost a foot or a leg,” were armed with swords and placed in the Second or Third Battalion.

 

As a member of this new corps, James began staying in a house near the Marine Hospital, also known as  “The Marine.” James was extremely impressed with the Marine, which he described in one of his letters as “almost the best building in the city,” heaping praise on its indoor plumbing. In his letters, he describes some of the jobs he was given, which included guard duty, sweeping, and helping with cooking.

According to the above poster, the duties of the Invalid Corps were “chiefly to act as provost guards and garrisons for cities; guards for hospitals and other public buildings, and as clerks, orderlies, etc. If found necessary, they may be assigned to forts, etc.”

In March 1864, the Invalid Corps was renamed the Veteran Reserve Corps. Partially, this was to boost morale as the same initials - "I.C." - were used to stamp "Inspected-Condemned" on condemned property. Another important reason, however, was that many men in the corps - tired of being called "cripples" and "shirkers" - had complained about the negative connotation in the name. Their frustration was likely exacerbated by a song that became popular in 1863 titled "The Invalid Corps," with lyrics as follows:

The Invalid Corps

By Frank Wilder

I wanted much to go to war,

And went to be examined;

The surgeon looked me o'er and o'er,

My back and chest he hammered.

Said he, "You're not the man for me,

Your lungs Are much affected,

And likewise both your eyes are cock'd,

And otherwise defected."

 

CHORUS

 

So, now I'm with the Invalids,

And cannot go and fight, sir!

The doctor told me so, you know,

Of course it must be right, sir!

 

While I was there a host of chaps

For reasons were exempted,

Old "pursy", he was laid aside,

To pass he had attempted.

The doctor said, "I do not like

Your corporosity, sir!

You'll "breed a famine" in the camp

Wherever you might be, sir!"

 

CHORUS

 

There came a fellow, mighty tall,

A "knock-kneed overgrowner",

The Doctor said, "I ain't got time

To take and look you over."

Next came along a little chap,

Who was 'bout two foot nothing,

The Doctor said, "You'd better go

And tell your marm you're coming!"

 

CHORUS

 

Some had the ticerdolerreou*,

Some what they call "brown critters",

And some were "lank and lazy" too,

Some were too "fond of bitters".

Some had "cork legs" and some "one eye",

With backs deformed and crooked,

I'll bet you'd laugh'd till you had cried,

To see how "cute" they looked.

* Likely a reference to Tic Douloureux - a “severe, stabbing pain to one side of the face” https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/tic-douloureux

The Veteran Reserve Corps celebrated their greatest success in July 1864, when Confederate Gen. Jubal Early arrived with an army of 15,000 at the gates of Washington, D.C. Almost every able-bodied Union soldier had gone south with Gen. Ulysses S. Grant as part of his campaign to take Petersburg, Virginia. The only ones left to defend the city - and the President - were clerks, government officials, and the Invalid Corps.

In the synopsis for her documentary film titled The Invalid Corps, which tells the story of the role these soldiers played in the Battle of Fort Stevens, filmmaker Day Al-Mohamed explains: "Made up of men injured in battle or by disease, these 'hopeless cripples' will hold out for a desperate 24 hours until Union General Grant can send reinforcements. With Abraham Lincoln himself on the ramparts of Fort Stevens, they cannot afford to fail. The story of the Invalid Corps offers a poignant perspective allowing us to reassess what we know, or rather what we think we know, about civil war history, disability, sacrifice, and honorable service" (https://www.dayalmohamed.com/invalid-corps).

10th Veteran Reserve Corps (Invalid Corps) in Washington, DC

I hope you've enjoyed learning a bit about the Veteran Reserve Corps. It's important to recognize that many wounded and ill soldiers continued to serve their country even after they could no longer serve on the battlefield. I know I appreciated learning this new aspect to my GGG Grandfather's service - and yes, I've added this new information to my book!

 

Emily Parsons - An Inspiring Civil War Nurse

 Chasing History: Exploring My Ancestral Roots - Post #29

by Tonya Graham McQuade

Emily Parsons Display at the Missouri Civil War Museum

in St. Louis, Missouri

When I was at the Missouri Civil War Museum in April, one of the displays talked about the role of nurses in the Civil War. A description of Emily Elizabeth Parsons said the following:

"Massachusetts native Emily Parsons first arrived in St. Louis in 1863 at the request of Jessie Benton Fremont. Although partially deaf and physically very frail, Parsons overcame these obstacles and soon become the head nurse at St. Louis' Benton Barracks. Under her leadership, she dramatically transformed the military hospital's operations by improving conditions and lowering the fatality rate among the sick and wounded."

The display caught my attention - especially because she served at Benton Barracks General Hospital during the time my GGG Grandfather, James Calaway Hale, was there recovering from his illness. His first letter from the hospital is dated June 23, 1863. 

As I more recently learned while doing research for my book, Elizabeth wrote many letters to her parents during her time serving as a nurse. After she died in 1880, they published those letters in a book titled Fearless Purpose: Memoir of Emily Elizabeth Parsons to help raise money for the Cambridge Hospital, which Emily had founded in Massachusetts. Last week, I finished reading her book - and it was very helpful in its descriptions of Benton Barracks, as well as the many places it overlaps with James's letters.

Emily had already gained notice before her parents published her letters. An excerpt from Woman’s Work in the War (1867) describes Emily E. Parsons:

“She consulted with Dr. [Morrill] Wyman [1812-1903], of Cambridge, how she could acquire the necessary instruction and training to perform the duties of a skillful nurse in the hospitals. Through his influence with Dr. Shaw, the Superintendent of the Massachusetts General Hospital, she was received into that institution as a pupil in the work of caring for the sick, in the dressing of wounds, in the preparation of diet for invalids, and in all that pertains to a well-regulated hospital....

 

“It was the duty of the nurses to attend to the special diet of the feebler patients, to see that the wards were kept in order, the beds properly made, the dressing of wounds properly done, to minister to the wants of the patients, and to give them words of good cheer, both by reading and conversation – softening the rougher treatment and manners of the male nurses by their presence, and performing the more delicate offices of kindness that are natural to women.

 

“In this important and useful service these nurses, many of them having but little experience, needed one of their own number of superior knowledge, judgment, and experience, to supervise their work, counsel, and advise them, instruct them in their duties, secure obedience to every necessary regulation, and [ensure] good order in the general administration of this important branch of hospital service. For this position Miss Parsons was most admirably fitted, and discharged its duties with great fidelity and success for many months, - as long as Dr. [Ira] Russell continued in charge of the hospital.

 

“The whole work of female nursing was reduced to a perfect system, and the nurses under Miss Parsons influence became a sisterhood of noble women, performing a great and loving service to the maimed and suffering defenders of their country."

 

It's easy to read this description, as well as her many detailed letters, and forget Emily Parsons was blind in one eye, had poor vision in the other, had limited hearing ability, and suffered pain in her ankle due to an old injury. Despite these physical limitations, she trained as a volunteer at the Massachusetts General Hospital for eighteen months, worked at Fort Schuyler Hospital on Long Island in New York for two months, served aboard the "City of Alton" hospital steamship where she nursed the sick and injured from the Battle of Vicksburg in Mississippi, and supervised and worked as a nurse for a year and a half at Benton Barracks General Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri. She only returned home after she became so ill, she could no longer work and needed time to recover.

Harpers Magazine Illustration of Civil War Nurses

Here are some excerpts from Emily's letters that really stood out to me:

 

About her work at Fort Schuyler Hospital:

“I sit by him all the evening; he was very restless last evening. I stroked his hand and his hair, and quieted him at intervals, but he did not get much quieter till the Doctor came and gave him morphine. He is obliged to take morphine every night. I love my ward better and better; and if some things are rough and trying, why that is reason for staying and trying to make them better, not running away. It would be poor soldiering to run when the enemy appeared” (Parsons 22).

 

“To have a ward full of sick men under my care is all I ask; I should like to live so all the rest of my life…. The good that is being done now is perfectly beautiful. I have done my work, and I think I have done it pretty well too. It is the opinion of most of those who are now over these things that the ladies who do them voluntarily do them better than hired nurses, and they like to secure our services…. I am in the army just as Chauncy [her brother] is, and I must be held to work just as he is; you would never think of requesting he might not be sent on picket duty because it was hard work” (28-29).

 

About the hospital steamship City of Alton:

 

“[Mr. Hasard] took me on board and left me. Such a sense of confusion and dirt, and soldiers! The ship is built up in all sorts of ways, to afford accommodation for the sick. We were obliged to start while all was in confusion, in order to reach the scene of action as soon as possible” (35).

 

“I never before was among people who took it so seriously, because I never was where the war was around us, nor ever before was going into the midst of it; and this makes us realize all that is at stake and what we are doing. Self has to be put down more and more, and the work before us must take complete possession of our minds: that is not easy, but necessary” (35).

 

“Our last orders are to go to Vicksburg. We are now at Helena; look on the map and you will see it. Imagine living in the midst of what the children call a ‘dirt pie,’ and you will have an idea of the condition of the people! We have several freed slaves on board, freed by the act of our President” (36)

NOTE: This is where James was stationed at the time with the 33rd Regiment, Missouri Infantry - Helena, Arkansas. MANY men in Helena died from sickness and disease. Parsons herself contracted malaria on this voyage and was ill for several weeks upon her return to St. Louis. She continued to suffer from bouts of related illness for the rest of her life. James - suffering from dysentery and rheumatism - was eventually transported from Helena to the hospital in St. Louis.

According to historian Rhonda Kohl’s study of the Army of the Southwest at Helena from July 1862 to January 1863, “Sickness did not abate over the three and a half years of Federal occupation as Helena became known as one of the most insalubrious locations in the Union…. The four main diseases that beset the soldiers [were] dysentery, malaria, typhoid, and typhus…. The soldiers became unserviceable, and many died, because of the lack of understanding by medical authorities of the etiological cause of the disease, the relationship among sanitation, the environment and health, and the types of drugs used” (Kohl, Rhonda M. "'This godforsaken town': death and disease at Helena, Arkansas, 1862-63." Civil War History, vol. 50, no. 2, June 2004, pp. 109+.).

 

“You have no conception of the state of the boat when we left it. Hercules might have cleaned it, nobody else could; it was awful! We had no regular working-woman on board; only contraband who have not the slightest idea of neatness. The men on board were very homesick – longing so for wife and children” (38).

 

“I am getting sadly familiar with death, - I say, sadly, for it is hard to have it come in such a way through this unnatural war. You feel that it should be the mother or wife’s hand they should cling to, and not that of the stranger” (39).

 

From St. Louis as Parsons recovered – March 1863:

 

“They talk of the taking of Vicksburg; but, mother, if the talkers could see it! If it stands a siege instead of capitulating, it is fearful to think what that siege will be. I have been right in front of the city where I could see the fortifications and breastworks; the work of taking it will be awful. I never realized in the East what a war was. Now, I have been down to it, I have seen the camps as they are away from home, I have seen the work the men have to do, and talked with them, seen how they felt about it; and there will be no turning back. But I have also been with the wounded just brought from battle, - such wounds as never come home to us at the East, - and I know at what cost the work is done, and how nobly, too, that cost is borne, counted as nothing if we can only win, and guard the old flag from harm. The cost is great; but in the lives of nations, like individuals, there come seasons when we must give up all. Here, side by side with all this noble stirring is the Secesh spirit contrasting with it at every turn; here, you really see the struggle between the two elements” (43-44).

About Benton Barracks:

 

“It is out of the city, in an enclosure of fifty acres, formerly used as the scene of the Horse and Cattle Fairs held here. The great amphitheater has been made into a hospital. Then there are other smaller hospitals in the grounds, for different classes of patients. The whole number of beds will be two thousand…. It is a very large and fine hospital. I wish you could see it. The different buildings are large and well arranged” (47).

 

“I wish you could see this place and the men in it; there are more coming out; I suppose we shall by and by have two thousand patients. Some of the men are sinking; it is sad to see it. They are very good and patient, but so subdued sometimes by their long suffering, it is very sad; you have no idea of the weariness produced by long, sad sickness away from home and woman’s care. The peculiar sort of submissiveness it causes is like that of a poor tired child who wants somebody to take care of him, and is too weak to do for himself” (51).

 

“Everything here is military. The gates are guarded night and day by sentries, and no soldier can go in or out without a pass. The cavalry are frequently passing to and from the Barracks beyond the hospital. They are very picturesque and effective as they go winding in and out among the trees. The calls are blown by a bugler; every now and then the soft tones come floating on the air, most poetically stating that dinner is ready” (55).

 

“When new patients come, it is the rule that they must take a bath before they put on their clean clothes; then each man has a clean shirt and drawers and socks, and can go to bed or sit up as he pleases. The poor fellows come out of the boat so dirty and weary, they look like new beings when they are refreshed by their baths and good food, and it is so pleasant for them to be released from the crowded boat jarring on their poor nerves, hot and unavoidably dirty” (73).

 

“Today I was talking to one of the men, and I told him one of the uses of sickness was to make us think about the Lord and religion. He told me he thought so, that he had never thought much about such matters till he was sick, and now he thought of them. I talked to him about it then, - how little real matter it was if the body suffered, if we had spiritual health and the peace of God, - and this very sickness brought him nearer to that than he could have been without it. He agreed to it all, and seemed glad to talk about it. When all outward help fails, they want something more, and they find they cannot stand alone” (75).

 

“I wrote to his wife to come to him; and one day when I entered the ward, there she was! I got a warm greeting from her. She brightened him up, nursed him as only a wife can, night and day. I let her stay in the ward, sleeping in the lady nurses’ room. He by and by began to mend, and was well enough last week to go home with his wife. If he gets well I do believe it will be due to her; I think she saved his life” (78).

 

“I think of sending you a collection of the insects that enter my room, either by flying or walking, only I should be obliged to send it by freight train. They vary in size, but all bite, except the flies, and they go down your throat if you open your mouth at all. I speak from personal experience” (78).

 

“I found many so exhausted they could not eat. I had a quantity of broth and soup provided, that they could drink, and it did them good. If they can be brought up from that stage of exhaustion, it is a great point gained” (79).

 

“It was very hot, and the wards were really uncomfortable. I went to every one after supper, and had shades taken away from the windows; they were opened as much as possible, and every ward watered profusely, like the streets, with watering pots; it makes the greatest difference in the temperature…. I finally went to bed in a room like an oven” (79).

Benton Barracks, St. Louis

On June 21, 1863 - just two days before James's first letter from the hospital – Emily wrote: “Yesterday we received a number of men from Memphis – poor, sick, and wounded fellows. We are booked for a thousand more, I suppose, from down the river” (68).

Somewhere among those "poor, sick, and wounded fellows" was James. Often, sick men were sent first to Memphis (Emily's hospital ship had stopped there as well). It made me happy to know he had such a kind and compassionate nurse looking after him.

Two weeks later, Emily wrote about the Fourth of July celebration at the hospital, and James wrote about that in his letters, too. Emily wrote: “Their tables were covered with good things; there were hundreds and hundreds of men fed at them, and all seemed pleased. After dinner there was speaking from a stand in the large grove, and singing. Finally the different detachments formed into order and marched to their hospital homes and camps. One man just off a bed of severe sickness, told me he had never missed a Fourth of July in his life and he must go. I told him I thought it would do him good, and he went” (74).

James wrote: "I must now tell you what a fine fourth of July we had. The ladies in the country bring in provisions and all kinds of cakes and berries and set a table enough for two hundred men in Ward A. They had more raspberries than ever I seen at one time. Before I eat a saucer full of the largest and nicest I ever seen, though those ladies that waits on the sick had give me some two or three times before."

I've now been working on adding some of the above information to my book - though I don't want to get too sidetracked from telling James's story. I'm thankful, though, for Civil War nurses like Emily Elizabeth Parsons. As I explain in my book A State Divided:

"While initially many women volunteered their services to military hospitals, eventually - under the leadership of social crusader Dorothea Dix - more than 3,000 women served as paid nurses in the North and the South. Dix had already made a name for herself advocating for people living with mental illnesses. A week after the firing on Fort Sumner, Dix volunteered to form an Army Nursing Corps. She was appointed Superintendent of Nurses for the Union Army by Secretary of War Simon Cameron. In this role, she organized hundreds of women volunteers, established and inspected hospitals, and raised money for medical supplies.

"While not paid as much as male nurses, who also received superior benefits, Civil War female nurses were paid 40 cents a day plus rations, housing and transportation. Thousands of others volunteered, many doing so after learning of their husbands or other family members being injured, thus earning applause 'for their patriotism and compassion' from the press."

I hope you've enjoyed learning more about Emily Parsons and the important contribution nurses made in the Civil War. Tune in next time to hear more about another book I recently read to help with my research, which I found very interesting: Susan Higginbotham's John Brown's Women.

Still Writing ... and Getting Closer!

Chasing History: Exploring My Ancestral Roots - Post #28
by Tonya Graham McQuade

So, it's been far too long since I posted on my blog - but that's because I've really been working hard to finish the first of my books - A State Divided: The Civil War Letters of James Calaway Hale and Benjamin Petree of Andrew County, Missouri. It's getting close to where I'll be ready to start reaching out to publishers. Here's hoping 2023 is the year I see this book in print one way or another! 

Have you ever wondered how the writing process works?

Well, Kathy Ridge, the genealogist I met when we visited the Andrew County Historical Society and Museum, has been reading over my book draft and giving me suggestions that have been extremely helpful. I've been busy reviewing her suggestions, adding new information, rearranging and fixing chronological errors, and revising for more clarity. I'm also still reading more books and researching new topics - there's always more to learn, right? After reading, I have to figure how much of that new information I want to put in, what facts needs to be cited, and where it might fit best, without throwing off the chronology or flow.

What has been amazing is that Kathy has been able to identify so many of the people that my GGG Grandfather, James Calaway Hale, mentions in his letters! I had worked hard to build out my family tree so I could understand all the family connections he mentions, but unless the other names were historical figures, I mostly just ignored them. I figured there was no way for me to know who he might be talking about. 

For example, in December 1862, James wrote from St. Louis: "I went over on the other side the barracks and I found lots of squares of my old acquaintance, so I had to eat with all of them. I ate five meals Sunday. I see Captain Hobson here, and I seen Ruben Shackleford. He is well. I only got to talk to him – he was going out to town on guard."

My first reaction, upon reading this, was to smile at the picture of James eating "five meals Sunday" and to feel happy for him that he ran into so many old friends. Digging deeper, I was able to learn more about the background of Captain Hobson since he played a leadership role in the war. Kathy, however, added in her comment: "Reuben S. Shackleford was born in 1843 in Missouri and worked as a day laborer for Rev. Daniel Toole in Andrew County. He enlisted in Savannah on 12 Sep 1862 in 35th Reg Co. C and mustered in at Benton Barracks 30 Sep 1862. He survived the war and mustered out at Little Rock, Arkansas on 28 Jun 1865." Wow!

In February 1863, James wrote from Helena, Arkansas: "The Regiments all drawed one month’s pay and all the odd days of the month they enlisted. Mine was one month and 17 days, for which I received $20.39 cents. They will be four months due me the first day of March. We may get the four months pay then and maybe only two months, Col. Pile said he would express all of the money we had to send to our wives. He had a chance to send it up to Memphis where there is an express office, so he told me to direct it to some responsible man in Savannah, so I directed it to William Price, and I sent you ten dollars. So, you can go to Price and get the money when it comes."

Kathy was able to add that William A. Price was a respected Savannah merchant born in New York about 1816 and that Savannah named one of its streets after him. I guess that helps explain why James would trust him with the limited funds he had. A later letter confirmed that his wife received the money he sent.

In March 1863, James wrote again from Helena, Arkansas, this time describing his life in camp since he had been too sick to join his regiment when they were sent to Memphis: "But now I will tell you how I have been living since the Regiment went down the river. They was part of what was left here was sent up to Memphis. Christopher Baker and myself and John Dobbs was left here - only us three of Co. H. We have a whole house to ourselves - a good floor and a door and a brick fireplace - and we are living like kings. None sick but what we have a good stomach to eat, and we have plenty. We drawed a half bushel of Irish potatoes and we have no. 1 flour and we bought soda, so we can have good biscuits all the time. I can beat either of them making biscuit or potato soup. Mollie, I can beat you a making biscuits and can come in on beating your mother. Don’t be uneasy about me, for I hope I am in no danger.”

Kathy wrote: "Christopher C. Baker and John Dobbs survived the war. Dobbs returned to farm in Andrew County, where he married in 1868, and Baker married in 1870 and lived in both Nodaway County and Holt county." I was happy to know they survived and made it home. James worried a lot about who in his regiment died in the Battle of Helena, which happened soon after he was transferred to the hospital in St. Louis due to his illness. His first letter from the hospital is dated June 28, 1863. The battle happened on July 4. He just missed it - and 49 men in his regiment died in the battle.

On October 21, 1863, James wrote from the hospital: "I will tell you almost the first man I seen when I was getting off the street car was James Tegarden. He like to never let me go. He told me all the news. I had to go take something to drink with him. I took some brandy and peppermint, and he took whiskey. He says to me, that is the first time you ever seen me drink like that. I told him it was. We went and set down and talked about one hour before we parted. He pulled out his purse and give me fifty cents and says his wife is gone to New York. He said he seen Bailis a few days before he left and you was all well. He said he just left his mill and everything. I had not went far then till I met Burris Adkins. He told me that someone had shot at Mill Singleton two or three times."

I had written James "Legarden" in my original transcription because sometimes it's hard to make out James's handwriting. Kathy wrote that she thought that the "L" was probably a "T" because there was a "James Tegarden" living in Savannah at the time of the 1860 U.S. Census. As it turns out, all three of the men James mentions in this passage were from Savannah, Andrew County. James M. Tegarden, b. in Pennsylvania about 1815, was a carpenter (1850 U.S. Census) and a miller (1860 U.S. Census). James Burrus Atkins, b. in Kentucky about 1827, was also working as a miller and living with the Tegardens in 1860 (1860 U.S. Census). The wife with whom he was living in the 1850 U.S. Census must have died.

1860 U.S. Census Record showing James B. [Burris] Atkins living with James Tegarden

Kathy had pointed out the backgrounds and connection between Tegarden and Atkins, but she hadn't said anything about Mill Singleton. Following her lead, however, I did some research and found Milton Robards Singleton in the U.S. Census records. I figured out he was born about 1818 in Kentucky, was a Savannah lawyer, and his wife and four children were living in Savannah with him in 1860 - three years before he was shot.

Through Newspapers.com, I also found a letter Milton Singleton wrote to the Weekly Herald and Tribune in St. Joseph, Missouri on October 8, 1863, defending himself against accusations of being a Rebel. I couldn't find a story about the shooting itself or whether he lived or died, but according to Kathy, most of the newspapers from that time period were destroyed in guerrilla attacks. Clearly, he was being attacked at the time - both by words and bullets.

The beginning of Mill Singleton's Letter to the Editor

Interestingly, in his letter, Singleton mentioned that he was "a candidate for the Convention in February, 1861, on the Union ticket with Gen. Wilson and E. VanBuskirk, and was defeated by Prince L. Hudgins, though I beat him 400 votes in Andrew County, every free State and Union men in the county voting for [him]."

In a letter dated April 19, 1864, James mentions Prince L. Hudgins as well, saying: "I seen Prince L. Hudgins. He would have me to go up in his room. I like to not got away from him - he wants me to come back and stay longer. I did not go to his room – I was just in his office. Billy Hudgins was in the office."

According to Kathy, Prince L. Hudgins was a lawyer from Savannah, who owned a large amount of land there but was driven out because of his secessionist views. “Billy” was his son, William L. Hudgins. From my research, I found the following description: “Lawyer of St. Louis, Missouri. In 1861 as a delegate to the state convention he spoke and voted against secession, but also spoke against civil war and military coercion of the state authority. He took no part in the Civil War or the politics of the period, but maintained his law practice and took all the required loyalty oaths. In 1863 he was charged with conspiracy for his antiwar speech at the convention. The case was never brought to trial and he received a presidential pardon in March 1865.” [From “Hudgins, Prince L.” Social Networks and Archival Context, https://snaccooperative.org/view/3647755.]

One funny exchange between Kathy and me related to a letter James wrote from the Marine Hospital on October 30, 1863, where we both read the letter different ways - and we still aren't sure who's right! James wrote: "Bailis, you need not fear but what you can make money here if this war goes on, which I expect it will. I want you here, but Bailis you do just which you think best. I do wish you was all here now and could get shut of them infernal copperheads. I am afraid some of them will kill you, and if you was here, I don’t think you would be in any danger."

I automatically assumed that Bailis, my GG Grandfather, must have been bitten by a copperhead snake. Kathy said she laughed when she saw my picture of a copperhead snake, thinking she had completely misread the passage. She assumed he was talking about the Copperheads, a name given to the Peace Democrats, a faction of Democrats in the Union who opposed the American Civil War and wanted an immediate peace settlement with the Confederates. After she wrote that, I thought she was right - but she thinks I'm right. LOL. We've both reread the passage several times and still aren't positive which one he meant, but Kathy does not think there were a lot of political Copperheads in Andrew County at the time, whereas there are a lot of copperhead snakes in the area where James and his family lived.

Hopefully, that gives you some insight into how the writing process is working for me. Let's just say, "Google" has definitely been my friend through this process! 

Tune in next time, where I'll share some of the information I gathered from reading Fearless Purpose - The Memoir of Emily Parsons. Parsons, who was partially blind and deaf, served as a Civil War nurse and was the nursing supervisor at Benton Barracks General Hospital, where James spent a significant chunk of time. It was really interesting to see the way their letters at times overlapped!