Hard & Stirring Times (online exhibit)
Hard & Stirring Times: Middletown & The Civil War
Less than a hundred years after the formation of the United States of America, the nation found itself embroiled in another conflict that threatened its very existence. Known by many names, the War of Secession, the Rebellion, the War Between the States, the Civil War lasted for four long years and resulted in the deaths of over 620,000 people, or 2% of the population. In terms of today’s population, this would mean over six million dead.
Men marched off together to war with their fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins, and neighbors while the women and children were left behind to continue the duties of daily life without their menfolk. Explore how this moment in American history affected the men, women, and children of the City of Middletown and continues to impact our lives to this day.
The Song
Music has always played an important part in the human experience. From the origin of music and language to the development of instruments and written music, tunes have reflected their time and place. Stephen Foster (1826-1864) is commonly considered a pioneer in American professional songwriting. The author of the well known “Camptown Races” (1850), “Swanee River” (1851), and “Jeannie With the Light Brown Hair” (1854), Foster wrote works that are still very well remembered.
“That’s What’s the Matter” was written in 1862 as a Northern rival to the popular Southern anthem, “Dixie.”
The Civil War was a turning point in American music. By bringing together soldiers from across the country, each with their own musical tradition, the war led to the development of what is known today as American folk music.
Thomas Hampson sings That’s What’s the Matter (2009 performance)
“Middletown I Think is the most beautifull Town of all.”
— John Adams, 1771
Incorporated in 1784 but settled by Europeans approximately 150 years earlier, Middletown was initially a settlement based on agriculture and the port that developed along the Connecticut River. The city grew prosperous on a foundation of trade with the West Indies and the produce of farms wrested from the hills and forests.
While the majority of Middletown voters in the 1860 election were Democrats, the Republican party took advantage of their rival’s divisions, and campaigned hard to ensure Lincoln’s victory. South Carolina seceded from the Union on December 20, 1860, swiftly followed by the other Southern states. The bombardment of Fort Sumter on April 1861 marked the beginning of armed hostilities between the United States of American and the Confederate States of America.
Main Street
Birdseye View
An Appeal to the Friends of Freedom
While many Middletown residents were sympathetic to the Democratic party’s emphasis on state and property rights, many believed in the cause of abolition. The first American abolition society was formed in 1775 in Philadelphia primarily by Quakers who opposed slavery on religious grounds. The Middletown Anti-Slavery Society was formed in 1834, but the attendees of the first meeting were met by an anti-abolitionist mob. The Society didn’t meet again for three years and didn’t last long thereafter.
While abolition in the South would be brought about in one stroke through the Emancipation Proclamation, in the North it was a gradual process that took over fifty years. Connecticut’s Gradual Abolition Act of 1784 stated that children born to slaves after March 1, 1784, could not be held in bondage after the age of 25. In 1848 all persons still slaves in the state were freed.
While the African-American community of Middletown may have been legally free, they were not equal with their white neighbors. In 1814, African Americans lost their right to vote at the same time universal white male suffrage was granted in Connecticut. Tied to low-skill, low-wage jobs, many African Americans in Middletown saw the most effective protest to social and legal racism through the acquisition of property, especially in the neighborhood known as “the Hill,” and through good works done through the church and moral reform groups such as temperance societies.
The American Free Produce Association was one of many early 19th century groups that sought to provide people with a way of purchasing goods that would today be called “fair trade.” The American Free Produce Association was in business from 1839 till around 1847. The Association oversaw the production of various cotton fabrics and cotton related products such as lamp wicks.
While the American Free Produce Association was based in Philadelphia, there were stores in major cities such as New York and Boston. At the time it seemed like the boycott of slave-produced goods might become a major force in the abolition movement as the demand for goods often exceeded supply. This particular association, and other similar groups, eventually disbanded due to a scarcity of products, high costs, and too limited a product range to satisfy customers.
A life full of years and honors
Benjamin Douglas (1816-1894) nobly served not only his family, but also his city and country. Born in Northford, Connecticut, he spent his first sixteen years working the family farm. With a limited education, he apprenticed himself to a machinist in Middletown in 1832. He joined his brother, William, in the operation of a machine shop and foundry in 1839. In 1842, the brothers invented a pump for use in factories and on farms. On the cornerstone of this invention, they created the W & B Douglas Company which was quite successful.
Douglas was very involved in his factory, church, and community. Between 1850 and 1862 he served as the Mayor of Middletown, a member of the General Assembly, a Presidential elector, and as Lieutenant Governor. During his time as mayor, Douglas publicly refused to comply with the federal Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 and most likely participated in the Underground Railroad’s activities in Middletown.
Rebecca, Augusta, Rosa & Fannie Virginia Casseopia Lawrence
While abolition was not the only cause for which the country went to war in 1861, it was a key issue in the conflict. On one side was the firm belief in property and state rights; on the other hand the need for a strong federal government to hold together the Union. Both sides used whatever tools they had at hand to bolster their argument; biblical verses, narratives of slave rebellions and their threat to public safety, and of course the newly emerging field of photography.
These photographs were taken in New York City and then distributed by photographers across the country. They were used not only to raise awareness about abolition and slavery, but also to raise funds for charities that assisted freed people. The fair skin and Caucasian features of the little girls would have been an indisputable illustration of the barbarity of slavery. Not only were children being held in bondage, but the images also played against the commonly held belief of slaves being “different” in that their skin was darker and their features not what Caucasians woke up to every morning. It is much easier not to care about someone who looks different then to hold in bondage someone who looks like a daughter, granddaughter, or the neighbor’s child.
The prospects for work
By the 1860s the city was moving away from its colonial occupations of coastal trade and agriculture and was firmly into the Industrial Revolution. Middletown’s factories tended towards the semi-skilled labor of the machine shop and the foundry. An 1850 review of the city’s manufactories lists locks, watches, machinery castings, firearms, powder, textiles, pumps, silverplate, boots, and sandpaper as all being produced in Middletown. By 1860, over 1,200 people out of a total population of 8,620 (or 14%) were working in the factories.
While the Starr family had made swords in years past, the arms manufacturers of Middletown in the 1860s were producing guns. The Savage Revolving Fire Arms Company was formed in 1859 and profited by the increased demand brought about by the war. Presumably the gun-making C. R. Alsop company followed the same trajectory. The D.C. Sage Company, formed in late 1861 or early 1862, would rise to become one of the largest private sector producers of combustible cartridges in the United States. In 1863 the company produced 920,000 cartridges of various types for the United States Army Ordnance Department.
With the end of the war, many of Middletown’s ordnance and firearm manufacturers closed, as the production of such goods moved into larger factories that took advantage of the economies of scale and mass production.
Guarding the Homefront
The family of Elihu William Nathan Starr (1821-1891) had made swords and firearms in Middletown since the late 18th century. As a teenager, E.W.N. Starr attended the American, Literary, Scientific and Military Academy, which later became Wesleyan University, beginning a lifelong association with the military. While not a professional soldier, Starr was a key member in the state militia, beginning with his enlistment in 1830. In 1847 he organized the 7th Light Infantry Company of the 6th Regiment, also known as the Mansfield Guards after Starr’s friend J.K.F. Mansfield. He achieved the rank of Brigadier General in 1860 and was the Commandant of the Mansfield Military Camp that was occupied by the 24th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers until the permanent officers took command in 1862.
Starr also served his city as Postmaster, Town Clerk, City Clerk, and Treasurer.
Life Goes On
While men were suffering, fighting, and dying on the fields of battle, life in Middletown in many ways continued as it always had. The price of labor and certain goods may have been inflated by the war, but houses were still sold and bought, traveling entertainers came to town, and the annual agricultural fair was held. Some of the entertainments were to raise funds for the war relief effort, but for those not worrying about a loved one in the military, life continued.
Those left behind
As hard as the war was on the soldier, it was also difficult for the wives, children, and other dependents left at home. The pay of a soldier was not much ($13.00 a month for a private) and often he would need that money to replenish clothing or buy supplemental food supplies. There were also serious problems with pay being months behind and with enlistment bounties not being disbursed in a timely fashion.
If a soldier was wounded, his pay was immediately cut off as he was no longer able to fight and this would contribute to a family’s already tenuous financial situation. If a soldier died, there were no provisions made for his family until after 1862 when an act was passed to provide pensions for widows and dependants, which could include underage children, mothers, and sisters. The only problem with the act was that it required proof of death in order to qualify and in an age where the government did not provide such proof, it was often difficult to obtain. Families would have to seek out comrades who could testify to a death if they were unable to secure the actual body.
These documents from the City of Middletown show the lists of soldiers’ names and the amounts paid out to their dependents from the city and the state. Note how many of the soldiers dependents signed only with an X. What would happen to these wives, children, mothers, and sisters, if their loved one fell on the field of battle, succumbed to disease, or were permanently crippled?
“A woman with 5 small children & no means”
In the Society’s archives are several letters from the Town of Clinton to the City of Middletown concerning the fate of a Mrs. Susan Slack and her five children and which municipality was responsible for their care. According to the letters, Francis Slack enlisted in the army in 1861, was taken prisoner in Richmond, and died there October 23, 1861. It is quite possible that Mr. Slack died at Libby Prison or one of the other prisons in the immediate area such as Belle Isle.
Mrs. Slack was left with five children all under the age of ten in 1862 with apparently no personal resources or an extended kinship network to care for her and the children. It is unclear why the City of Middletown would take responsibility for the family, but they apparently did and the family arrived in the city towards the end of 1862. After that, the children disappear from official records. Susan Slack does make an appearance in the 1880 United States Census as a domestic in Old Saybrook but then she too drops from the records.
Francis Slack has also disappeared from the official record. There are no records of enlistment in the army and the prison records of Richmond were burned by the Confederates at the end of the war. Francis and Susan Slack and their children Frank, George, Mary, Charles, and William are one among many families who vanished into the haze and destruction of the war.
“beseech Him not to forsake us now & not let our free institutions be thrust aside forever” — Alma Lyman to Sally Miller, October 9, 1864
The private lives and beliefs of women during the Civil War are not as clear and available to historians as those of men. For the most part, women did not participate in the political arena, they did not march off to war, they did not write letters to the editor of their local newspaper, or write books explicitly detailing their beliefs. To see what women believed, one needs to look at their private letters and diaries, and then extrapolate from their actions what was essential to them. The proper lady of the 1860’s was supposed to be kind, generous to others, and do good works through their home and their church. A woman of this period was constrained not only by society, but also literally by her clothing. With multiple layers and an understructure supporting the fashionable hoop skirt, a woman had to look for discrete ways to move and influence the world around her.
Alma Coe Lyman (1786-1875), described in the Lyman family genealogy as a woman of “strong mind and excellent character,” was a staunch Congregationalist and abolitionist. Her husband, William Lyman (1783-1869), had once been set upon by a mob in Durham for his abolitionist beliefs and she was a lifelong subscriber to the American Missionary, a publication that supported eliminating slavery, educating African Americans, racial equality, and Christian values.
In her letters to her sister-in-law, Sally Miller, Lyman speaks of how
“God has long said to this nation ‘Let my people go’ but we have not heed to the command. but strengthened ourselves in wickedness, & practically said who is the lord that we should obey his voice, & now we is giving liberty to the sword, & to the pestilence to furnish if not to destroy us utterly. O that we may repent & do works meet for repentance before it is too late.”
For Lyman, and others of like mind, the war was not about politics and states rights, but a scourge from God that would cleanse the wickedness of slavery from the nation.
“An institution commanding and I may say demanding the liberal support of every loyal citizen.” Report to the U.S. Sanitary Commission, Adaline Douglas, November 16, 1864
When a young man or woman joins the armed services today, they need only show up, everything else will be provided. During the Civil War, almost the exact opposite was true. Many soldiers not only had to provide their own uniform, but also any other comforts or medical supplies they might want or need. The federal government was not prepared to outfit the thousands of men streaming into service, nor to take care of them once they were wounded or killed, nor to notify their families of misfortune.
The U.S. Sanitary Commission stepped into this breech. An official agency of the federal government, the Sanitary Commission served as a liaison between the people and the military. The staff and volunteers of the Commission provided uniforms, medical supplies, staffed hospitals, identified the dead, and helped widows and orphans secure pensions.
The work of the Sanitary Commission was supported on the local level by hundreds of volunteers in virtually every community across the nation. In Middletown, the Ladies Volunteer Aid Society sewed uniforms and other articles of clothing, produced medical supplies, and collected funds which were sent on to the larger organization. In 1864 the organization was able to secure over $1,200 for Sanitary Commission work, a tidy sum that represented an annual middle-class income. The first president of Middletown’s organization was Adaline Douglas (1821-1885), wife of Benjamin Douglas. She worked tirelessly on behalf of the organization and graciously parleyed her husband’s position and influence into donations of time, money, and labor.
“To think you have suffered so. And I, all these long, weary miles away.”
During the Civil War, twice as many soldiers died of disease as of battle wounds. Many of the men came from rural areas and suddenly found themselves crowded in with hundreds of other men in conditions that were less than sanitary where they were exposed to diseases to which their bodies had no immunity. Drinking water was not adequately separated from waste disposal, food supplies were limited, and bodies were pushed beyond their limits through marches, exposure, and battle conditions.
The military had not made provisions for notifying families when their soldiers fell sick or were wounded in battle. Eventually the U.S. Sanitary Commission stepped into this role and took on the monumental task of notifying people of the dead, wounded, and ill. The Sanitary Commission, and other similar relief agencies, also took on the duty of nursing the wounded and sick. If a family had some means, they would travel to where their loved one was laying ill and nurse him themselves or attempt to bring him home.
“God preserve you my dear boy.” – Harriet Starr to William Edward Starr, September 27, 1862
In August 1862, William Edward Starr, eldest son of E.W.N. Starr, enlisted in Company B, 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers. While his father and mother, Harriet, set about writing letters to friends and acquaintances in an attempt to secure a commission for their son, William suffered the life of a private in the infantry. William writes home on October 5, 1862, “…my experience of military life I can give in a very few words, tough monotonous, the worst is the fare, salt pork & bacon & pilot bread [another term for hardtack] which requires a hammer to break.”
While his parents were unable to secure him a commission, he was able to serve as a clerk on the officer’s staff, alongside his cousin Edward Brewer. William became ill in the late fall of 1862. His father visited him on November 2, 1862 and wrote home to his wife, “I found Edward better than I feared he might be and in fact his is now doing very well & receives good care & is in an airy location& comfortable…he had been very sick for two or three days…he is not well enough to move.” His mother went down to visit him and by the end of the year had him home on a medical furlough and eventually discharged from the service due to his illness.
All the carte de visite images appear to have been taken at approximately the same time. It is quite possible that the images of Harriet, William Edward and his younger brothers Henry and Frank, and the portrait of little sister Grace were done so William would have current images of his family to carry with him when he joined the service.
Dresses of the Civil War Era / from the collection of the Middlesex County Historical Society
Citizen Soldiers
Over 950 men from the City of Middletown (from an 1860 population of 8620) would eventually serve their country during the Civil War. While each came to the decision for his own reason, once a soldier, their lives became intimately tied to their company and regiment. Formed on a regional level, platoons and the larger company would often have members of the same family, neighbors, and life long friends among their ranks. The men trained, fought, and died alongside members of their community. This method of recruitment was particularly devastating as a community’s entire generation of young men could be wiped out in a single engagement.
While a draft was instituted in 1862, only 20% of the federal fighting force would be supplied this way. The majority of soldiers volunteered for a three-year term willingly. Rival recruitment offices opened in Middletown and competed for able bodied men between the ages of twenty and forty-five. Bounties were offered by the city to fill enrollment requirements and were advertised on broadsides, in the newspaper, and even on flour sacks.
To one and All I send these words
Dwight Pierce (1846-after 1913) was born in Chatham (now East Hampton) and upon reaching his majority found work as a schoolteacher in East Lyme. He joined the army in 1863 and served until 1865 in Company A, 1st Regiment Connecticut Volunteers. A man fond of words, he carried a small diary with him in 1864, recording his experiences. In 1868 he expanded this diary into a war memoir, and then in 1915 wrote his autobiography.
While the 1868 memoir was written three years after the completion of his service, it still reflects very clearly the experiences of a young private in the service.
On life in camp: I found out that there was something more in a Company to do, than to while away the hours in Tents – reading, writing, telling stories and sleeping, and I soon became aware that in order to become a good Soldier, I must pass through tiresome Drill. The first thing was the mode of Marching. many was the time that I received a sore shin, by someone in the rear rank stepping on my feet, because I did not mind to keep step. Right, left, right left, or in another manner “Hay foot,” “Straw foot.”
On weapons: Then I received a musket, yes, a nice Springfield Rifle, brand new. Good to use at long range – if you happened to hit just right – if you did, it was all on account of good luck, for they never could be relied upon as being accurate in the hands of a green Marksman.
“To Do, To Dare, To Die.” A.H. Newton, Out of the Briars, An Autobiography and Sketch of the 29th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers
While the war between the North and South was partially about abolishing the peculiar institution of slavery, African-Americans were not allowed to join the fighting until after July 1862. The federal government did not begin official enrollment until after the issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation in January 1863, but individual states began recruiting earlier. The ranks of the 29th Regiment and the 30th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers were comprised of so-called “colored” troops. A private in these regiments would receive a lower bounty and less pay than white troops, face a 35% higher mortality rate, and be disproportionately assigned menial work such as building battlements and burying the dead. When allowed to fight, African-American soldiers proved their worth and quite often fought harder than white troops as capture would often lead to a firing squad or slavery behind the Southern lines.
While Middletown’s African-American population was a modest one, 173 people or 2% of the population, it was well represented in the colored troops. Twenty men from the community chose to serve their country.
Nathaniel Hubbard
Due to the widespread prejudice of white soldiers and officers and the belief that African-Americans would not be able to fight effectively, they were not allowed to lead their own men into battle. African-Americans were not allowed to hold any rank above 1st Sergeant although they would eventually be allowed the rank of surgeon and chaplin. Led by white officers into battle, African-American troops proved their courage at such battles as the Skirmish at Island Mound, the Battle of Port Hudson, and the assault on Fort Wagner which was immortalized in the movie Glory.
Nathaniel Hubbard (1842-?) of Middletown joined the 21st Regiment as a private, but took a position with Company B 6th United States Colored Infantry in order to receive a promotion to 1st Lieutenant. He was wounded at Newmarket Heights, Virginia on September 29, 1864, and resigned his commission in March 1865.
Joseph King Fenno Mansfield
Joseph K.F. Mansfield was born in New Haven, Connecticut, December 22, 1803. His mother, Mary, was a Middletown native and thus he visited his grandparents in Middletown frequently as a child. Entering West Point at the age of fourteen, he graduated second in his class in 1822. He served in the Corps of Engineers throughout the Mexican War (1846-1848), receiving numerous promotions for gallantry and efficiency. In 1853 he was appointed Inspector General of the Army and with the start of the Civil War was promoted to Brigadier General in 1861.
On September 17, 1862 at the Battle of Antietam while leading two divisions into the fray, Mansfield mistook an advance group of the 20th Georgia Regiment for Union forces and ordered a cease fire. John M. Gould of the 10th Maine wrote the following to Mansfield’s widow in December 1862.
“The General now took out his glass, but immediately his horse was shot in the right hind leg, and became unruly. I am told by an officer who stood near him, that the General was shot a few seconds afterwards, but it was not observed by the men, who thought only the horse was wounded. Passing still in front of our line and nearer to the enemy, he attempted to ride over the rail fence which separated a lane from the ploughed land where most of our Regiment were posted. The horse would not jump it, and the General dismounting led him over. He passed to the rear of the of the Regimental line, when a gust of wind blew aside his coat, and I discovered that his whole front was covered with blood. I had watched the General for more than five minutes expecting every moment to see him shot, but this was the first knowledge I had of the accident.”
The General had been shot by a sniper’s minie ball, which passed through the right lung and back out again. Mansfield lingered for a day before dying of his wounds and was one of over 3,600 causalities from the battle.
General Mansfield’s body was returned to Middletown where he was buried in the Indian Hill Cemetery with full civil and military honors.
Mansfield was much beloved by the men with whom he had served. Numerous letters were written to his widow, detailing his final moments or sharing some tale of common exploits. George Meech, a private in Company C 21st Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, collected a stone, supposedly from the spot where General Mansfield fell. This stone is on display at the General Mansfield House.
“Now saddened we wept that in life’s brightest bloom,
One so noble as he should sink into the tomb;
For on and on he led in the van of the host,
And he fell like a soldier he died at his post.”
– inscription on monument to Gibbons
The officers of a regiment were in the position of holding the fighting unit together. Frequently they had been with the men since the beginning, had enlisted them to begin with, were men that they had worked or worshiped with in their hometown. Volunteer units in the Civil War were allowed to elect their own non-commissioned officers and these were typically men of standing in the community from which the company hailed.
Elijah Gibbons (1831-1862) was born in New York City but spent the majority of his life in Middletown. He worked at the W & B Douglas Company and eventually worked his way up to foreman. Gibbons viewed Benjamin Douglas as a mentor and the two men both held strong abolitionist beliefs. Gibbons’ beliefs were so strong that on December 2, 1859, he rang the bells of the 1st Baptist Church, where he was sexton, to mark the execution of John Brown. This cost him the right to ring the bells and almost resulted in his expulsion from the congregation.
Gibbons joined the state militia as a 1st lieutenant in 1856 and once the war began was instrumental in recruiting and training the members of the Wesleyan Guard, which would become Company G 4th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers and had the honor of being the first three year enlistment regiment in the state. He served with Company G, 1st Regiment Connecticut Volunteers Heavy Artillery as a 1st Lieutenant and later as a Captain of Company B, 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers Infantry.
Gibbons was responsible for recruiting the 100 men who would form Company B. His recruiting office was over Chaffre & Camp’s Store on Main Street. John Broatch had helped to secure the commission for Gibbons by pleading his case before Governor Buckingham and served as his recruiting officer. Levi Jewett served as the examining surgeon who was responsible for certifying that recruits were physically fit for army life.
The 14th Regiment took heavy losses at the Battle of Fredricksburg. One hundred eighteen men were killed, wounded or went missing between December 11-15, 1862. Captain Gibbons’ left thigh was shattered by a bullet on December 13 and he died on December 19. His widow, left with two sons under the age of five, did not have the financial resources to bring his body home. His former co-workers at the Douglas pump factory and his mentor Benjamin Douglas, collected the necessary funds. John Douglas, Benjamin’s son, retrieved Gibbon’s body and brought him home for burial in Mortimer Cemetery.
The friends and comrades of Elijah Gibbons honored his memory by naming one of Connecticut’s first Grand Army of the Republic posts in his memory; G.A.R. Post No. 6 formed on March 29, 1867.
“the hand of God was present and had compassion”, Charles E. Pollard, Co B 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, February 9, 1864
John C. Broatch (1843-1904) was born in Middletown and worked as a machinist until the outbreak of the war. Originally a member of the Mansfield Guards, his regiment was present at the first battle of Bull Run. Re-enlisting in the 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, he rose from private through the ranks of lieutenant colonel, colonel, returning with the brevetted rank of major.
This sword was carried by Broatch during the Battle of Morton’s Ford. On February 6 & 7, 1864, the Union troops forced several crossings of the Rapidan River to distract the Confederate troops from a raid up to Richmond, Virginia.
The History of the 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteer Infantry was published in 1906 and detailed the events that left their mark on the sword. “The advance was rapid and the line had now reached the Morton houses in a cluster of trees, the men shielding themselves behind the garden fence. Captain Broatch, senior captain of the regiment, while advancing sword in hand was struck by a bullet which shattered his fingers and threw his sword twenty feet into the air. Picking it up and grasping it in his left hand he swung it over his head, at the same time guiding his men until his wound proved so painful that he was obliged to retire from the field.”
A fellow soldier in a letter wrote that “Capt Broatch of Co A had one finger on his right hand took off and a ball broke off about 6 inches of his sword. It is a wonder that more was not killed but the hand of God was present and had compassion.”
Levi Jewett
Levi Jewett (1835-between 1901 & 1910) was born in Griswold, and while an instructor at Bacon Academy in Colchester, studied to be a medical doctor. Receiving a commission as an assistant surgeon in the 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, he served with the regiment as they moved through the war and the battlefields of Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Morton’s Ford, and the Wilderness before being wounded at the second Battle of Ream’s Station on August 25, 1864. A fragment from a shell passed through his hat before seriously injuring his eye. He served out his term of service in hospital duty in Baltimore and eventually retired with his wife to Middle Haddam.
Dr. Jewett was an active member of the Mansfield Post, Grand Army of the Republic in Middletown. He donated the hat he was wearing that fateful day to the War Relicts Collection at the Russell Memorial Library. This collection forms the basis of the collection at the Society and continues to be a testimony to the men who fought and to the others who worked so hard to preserve artifacts and memories of those momentous events.
“To die ‘neath the folds of the red, white and blue.”
The life of an enlisted soldier was not an easy one. Memoirs of the war speak of endless waiting, marching to and fro in the heat and dust, and the terrors of engaging with the enemy.
The common soldier, upon being mustered in, would typically receive a wool coat and trousers, underclothing, a kepi (a hat based on a French cap), a knapsack, haversack, cartridge box with belt, cap pouch, canteen, rubber blanket, and wool blanket. Soldiers did bring items from home, but anything a soldier had would need to be carried on several days worth of marches that were many miles long. Railroads and boats were used to move troops when feasible, but often it was a soldier’s feet that carried him to battle.
The pay of a private was only $13.00 a month and was often late or sent to the last place the regiment had been, not necessarily where they currently were.
Food supplies were intermittent in the field, with soldiers being issued rations consisting primarily of hardtack (a biscuit made of flour and salt with no fat or leavening agent) and salt pork as these could be carried for days with minimal fear of spoilage.
Guns of the Civil War
“Such scenes and hardships I never wish to pass through again.”
Henry Cornwall (1843-1898) of Portland joined the Army in the fall of 1862 as a private. He served in Company D 20th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers and mustered out in June 1865 as a Corporal. These items were carried through the war by Cornwall. Written inside the Testament & Psalm is “If I am killed send this book to Andrew Cornwall Portland Conn.”
In a letter home to his parents, Cornwall writes of the Battle of Chancellorsville (April 30-May 6, 1863)“Our rifles did terrible execution – the gray backs lay thick in the hollow and on the hillside. The rebels turned the batteries upon us and the shot and shell whistled over our heads. We had to lie close behind our breastworks but their fire was too deadly for us to stand and we were obliged to retire under a fire of musketry and artillery. At this time the rebels had nearly surrounded us…It is a wonder how we got away without all being killed. The fight raged terrible all day and the number of killed and wounded was enormous. Such a sight as that battlefield I hope never to see again. The thunder of cannon, roar of musketry, shouts and yells of the soldiers and shrieks an groans of the wounded and dying were terrible to hear…Such scenes and hardships I never wish to pass through again.”
The items here were all carried by Cornwall during the war.
Letter courtesy of Dennis A. Buttacavoli.
Articles of War
An enlisted soldier had to carry everything he might possibly need on his back. Haversacks were used to carry rations and eating utensils while knapsacks were for extra clothing and personal items. The knapsack was carried by Henry C. Hill a Corporal in Company B, 10th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers Infantry. The canteen was indispensable for hydration on long marches and the telescopic drinking cup, patented in 1860 would have added a touch of civilization to a meal by the camp fire. The grater, made from a tin can by a soldier in the 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, would have enabled a soldier to grate their hardtack in order to mix it with a fat or water to make it more palatable. This sack coat was worn by Henry Rose of Company L, 1st Regiment Connecticut Volunteers Heavy Artillery and the traveling mirror was carried by B. Frank Sage of Company D, 20th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers Infantry for three very long years. Most telling of all is the wear on the revolver of Charles Pelton (1839-1930) who was with Company A, 2nd Regiment Connecticut Volunteers Infantry. Pelton only served for three months but they must have been hard ones.
“The absent are not missed. The living are wonderfully reckless.” The Connecticut War Record on the Siege of Port Hudson.
Charles Osborne (1841-1910) of Middletown joined Company A 24th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers as a private in 1862. In 1863 the Union Army surrounded the town of Port Hudson on the Mississippi River in Louisiana. The two armies had been fighting for control of the river throughout the war and the Siege of Port Hudson from May 21 to July 9, 1863, would prove crucial. The fighting was fierce and interspersed with both sides attempting to wait each other out. Food and ammunition supplies on both sides ran low, and thousands of men would die of wounds or disease before the Confederates surrendered to the Union forces.
Osborne kept a journal of sorts on lose pages from May 5 to September 8, 1863. In the first ten days of the journal he writes of marching over 125 miles in weather ranging from hot and dusty to cold and raining. Once part of the actual siege, he writes of how heavy the firing was that day and who was killed or wounded. On June 22 he writes, “It had cleared up and it is now quite pleasant and warm we had one man that this morning by the name of Harry Branmard of Haddam he was shot through the right shoulder and it had gone through his right lung and came out in his left side and hit the spinal bone and there is not chance for him to live. There was a mail today but I did not get any letters.”
While the journal does not go into how the experience of the siege affected him, one only need look at the images of Osborne before his enlistment and afterwards to garner some idea.
Spoils of War
Throughout history, soldiers have always removed things that did not belong to them from battlefields. From the full-fledged looting of a city to the collection of souvenirs to bring home, booty has always been part of the military experience.
This daguerreotype was collected by Curtiss Arnold of Colchester from a Confederate body during the Siege of Port Hudson. Numerous battlefield accounts speak of men dying with an image of their loved ones in view. When a man realized that he wasn’t going to die in his own bed, surrounded by those he loved, he took comfort where he could. What a long trip this little image of home has taken.
The piece of rebel homespun, possibly a pocket, was “cut from the coat of a dead rebel at ANTIETAM” according to its original label.
The small, well-worn pipe was picked up in the deserted camp of the 16th Mississippi Regiment between Richmond and Petersburg, Virginia as stated on an old label. What about these items caught a soldier’s eye and not only made him pick them up and bring them home, but then preserve them for years and later donate them to a public institution?
“Surely our mourning was turned into joy and we could praise God from whom all blessings flowed, and thank Him for delivering into our hands those things for which we had wished.” Dwight Pierce on the cessation of hostilities.
On shelling the rebel batteries outside Petersburg, July 1864:
“One fine evening at a quarter past three, as the infantry were passing out to relieve the pickets on our lines the rebel battery opened on one man with sharp canister shot and percussion shell, from a half dozen rifle and smooth bore guns, in the new rebel fort.
This was our time to reply and we loaded three four and one half inch Rodman guns, three eight inch mortars and four light brass pieces — then at a given signal, the shot and shell went into the rebel fort to ask them how they were getting along that fine day — also to tell them that the Yankee artillerymen were not all drunk or asleep. Again and again did we fire by battery, until I imagine that the air in the vicinity of the rebel fort must have been filled with materials of iron and lead.”
“Grant that the cause for which he died, may live forever more-“ Lincoln’s funeral hymn
Abraham Lincoln died less than a week after Lee’s surrender at the Appomattox Courthouse and the cessation of official hostilities. In a predominately Christian nation, it was virtually impossible not to see a correlation between his mortal wounding on Good Friday and the sacrifice of Christ. Upon his demise, the nation was plunged into deep mourning, not only for the death of the president, but also for the 620,000 men who perished. In many ways, the services for Lincoln served as the funeral for the thousands of men who were buried far away from their homes.
As late as 1910, fewer than 15% of Americans died away from home. For the families of those who died or simply disappeared, the war left a void that would never be filled. More than 2% of the nation was dead as a direct result of the war and it produced a scar that the country carries to this day.
Those lost to the War for Union
During the Civil War, a time where men did not carry any sort of official identification and where the weapons of destruction could literally disintegrate a body, over half of the dead remained unknown. Sometimes a family was fortunate enough to have a comrade write to them of their loved one’s death, but all too often a soldier just disappeared.
Of the 110 men who served from Greater Middletown who are listed on the Roll of Honor, 63% have no known grave. Of those with known graves, twenty-seven are buried in Connecticut, mostly in Middletown, while the remainder found eternal rest in the military cemeteries at Fredericksburg and Richmond, Virginia, Andersonville, Georgia, and nine other national cemeteries.
Honor is the reward of action
Edward Hamilton Brewer (1842-1863) enlisted in the 14th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers as a private in August 1862, the same time as his cousin William Edward Starr. When he ventured forth with his company, he left behind his widowed mother and two younger sisters. He was eventually detailed as a clerk to General French’s headquarters and was often able to dine with his cousin William.
Brewer’s closest friend, Amos Fairchild, with whom he mustered in and had this picture taken before they left Middletown, died of disease March 8, 1863. Brewer was devastated by the death and wrote to his sister “I was very sorry last night to hear of the death of Amos. He was as dear to me as a brother. In fact, I called him such. The news of his death came so unexpectedly that I was not at all prepared for it…Little did I think when he left the regiment that I should never see his face again on earth. But I trust we shall meet again in heaven.” They would meet sooner than any had expected, as Brewer himself died of disease on April 2, 1863, less than a month after his best friend.
Honor to the Brave – We Cherish Their Memory
Almost as soon as the war had ended, the people of Middletown sought a way to honor their citizen soldiers. Discussion of a monument began in 1865 and the Monumental Association was formed in June 1870. The group set about collecting funds for the monument in Union Park and assembling photographs and names of soldiers from Middletown who had died in the nation’s service. The Roll of Honor contains 110 names of soldiers who perished during or shortly after the war, probably of injuries or illness from their enlistment. The Memorial Book assembled together 76 photographs of Middletown’s dead.
The Monumental Associations efforts were wide reaching and over 505 citizens contributed the dollar or more required to sign their name in the Autograph Book. The monument itself was dedicated on June 17, 1874 with speeches, music, and hymns.
Aftermath
For an entire generation of men, women, and children, the Civil War was a turning point in their lives. They fought on the battlefront, fought the war of production in the factories, or fought the war of daily survival on the homefront.
Dwight Pierce returned from his service and went on to live as a farm laborer, teacher, and piano key maker who retired to the Old Soldiers Home in Cromwell. This memorial to Company A 1st Regiment Connecticut Volunteers was one of many mass produced items that appeared after the war. A soldier could fill in the relevant information on his company and then display it for all to see.
Henry Cornwall also returned safely, he was later a state representative from Portland where he worked as a manager in a brownstone quarry and later in the same position in a bank. Prior to his death in 1898, he spent countless hours touring the great battlefields of the conflict, gathering up the remnants of the war, bringing them home and assembling them into the collection seen here.
These two relics of war, sober reminders of what the country had been through, were meant to be displayed, possibly in a formal parlor or family room. What went through the minds of former soldiers when they remembered their experiences? What did the civilians who lived through the war remember best? What can we still learn from these tales of death, destruction, sacrifice, and bravery from all those many years ago?
Middletown’s Honored Dead

Photographs from the 1867-1874 Memorial Book. Biographies assembled by Ted Fuller, Historical Society Intern 2008.
The photographs below do not depict all the Middletown men who perished in the War. Short biographies of all of Middletown’s Civil War dead have been compiled by Ted Fuller, who was an intern at the Society in 2008: Biographies of Middletown’s Honored Dead.



































































































