The Other White House

I recently took a trip south of Washington to visit the other Capital with the other White House. Strange to think the Confederates chose their capital to be only 98 miles from Washington, but early in the Civil War the iron mills and factories of Richmond, Virginia were of tremendous strategic importance to the South. So it came to be that the Confederate capital was situated on a bluff overlooking the James River, and the executive mansion on 12th and Clay Streets became known as the White House of the Confederacy. Not to be picky, but the Confederate White House is actually pale grey (pictured at left as seen now and below right during the Civil War).

Originally constructed in 1818 for a prominent physician, the third story of the federal period house was added when it was purchased by the Crenshaw family in 1857. When the war commenced the Confederate government purchased the home and furnishings for $42,000, and CSA President Jefferson Davis and family moved in shortly thereafter.

Davis’s wife and first lady Varina became the official hostess of Richmond society, and the home was used for entertainment. At first the levees and balls were lavish, as the Southerners had many early victories to cheer on. Nonetheless, Varina Davis preferred to keep a “Quiet Set” and tended to keep gatherings small and intimate. She feared Richmond to be full of dreadful gossip.

As the war progressed, Richmond began to feel the strain of tough economic times. The price of a gallon of eggnog was over $100 at Christmas in 1863. “Starvation Parties” soon became the talk of the town, where the only expense was hiring the band and attendees refreshed themselves with a glass of water from the James River. Despite this privation, Mary Chesnut—the wife of General James Chesnut—noted that she attended one of Varina’s “Luncheons for Ladies Only” where they were served “gumbo, ducks and olives, lettuce salad, chocolate cream and jelly cake, claret cup, champagne, etc.” But on the whole, social gatherings at the Confederate White House became fewer and far between.

By 1864 the Confederate First Lady confessed to Mrs. Chesnut that the Davises could no longer live on the income provided by the Confederate government, and had begun selling off the horses and carriages kept in the carriage house at their White House.

Most of us know how the Civil War ended. The Union Army seized Richmond burning about 10% of it. Jeff Davis and Varina fled for their lives. The southern White House became the headquarters for the occupying army, with Lincoln personally visiting the mansion on April 4, 1865. He sat in Davis’s chair and helped himself to some of the wine left by the Rebel First Family.

It’s interesting to consider the lives of these two presidents living in their own “White Houses.” Aside from the struggles of the War, both as heads of state used their homes to entertain. Both had wives who presided over the local society and were frequently the subject of gossip. My image of Jefferson Davis has always been that of a slave holding villain. I had not considered him to be a family man, so visiting the house he briefly resided in humanized him. Like Lincoln, Davis suffered tragedy in his White House as well. In Washington, Lincoln’s son Willie died in 1862 of disease at age 12. Perhaps more horrifying was the death of five year old Joseph Davis, who fell from the East Portico of the Davis's White House.

2 Presidents. 2 First Ladies. 2 Capitals. 2 White Houses. The Confederate house is currently in the care of the Museum of the Confederacy; an interesting place where you can learn about the “Second American Revolution,” States Rights, the valor of the Confederate troops, and the vast superiority of their cavalry. I guess there are 2 ways of looking at things.

Sources: Mary Chesnut, Diary from Dixie.

Nelson Lankford, Richmond Burning.

Museum of the Confederacy.

Emory M. Thomas, The Confederate State of Richmond.

Alcott's Brief, but Impressionistic Stay in Georgetown

"Beds to the front of them,

Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,

Nobody blundered.

Beamed at by hungry souls,

Screamed at with brimming bowls,

Steamed at by army rolls,

Buttered and sundered.

With coffee not cannon plied,

Each must be satisfied,

Whether they lived or died;

All the men wondered."

It was to this song that matrons and nurses at the Union Hospital in Georgetown (at right) marched to. Among them was Louisa May Alcott, authoress of Little Women. When the hackney coach carrying Alcott to the northeast corner of M and 30th, NW arrived, the driver announced it as the “Hurley-Burley House.” The Union Hospital was a converted hotel, built originally in 1796. A three story building, with two parallel wings running in to the block, with a slave quarter and stable in the rear, the Hotel was one of the larger establishments in Georgetown. The building functioned as a hotel briefly in the Civil War, when nearby battles in Virginia created an influx of wounded soldiers in to Washington.

Arriving December 12, 1863 Louisa saw action a just three days later, when the first casualties from the Battle of Fredericksburg, Virginia arrived by ambulance. Over 40 ambulances arrived and, the Union Hotel had 80 beds made up for the wounded. The worst cases were treated in the hotel ballroom. By Christmas there were over 1,000 wounded Union troops convalescing in Georgetown. Alcott noted that it was not uncommon to see them hobbling on the muddy streets on crutches and peg-legs. At the makeshift hospital Alcott worked as a night nurse, where she cleaned wounds, administered medicine, changed beds, and fed soldiers. The saddest sight she saw “was the spectacle of a grey-haired father, sitting hour after hour by his son, dying from the poison of his wound. The old father, hale and hearty; the young son, past all help…I saw the son's eyes fix upon his face, with a look of mingled resignation and regret, as if endeavoring to teach himself to say cheerfully the long good bye.”

Working as a nurse in the Civil War was arduous work. Apart from long hours, in poorly ventilated conditions, nurses ate the same rations as the soldiers. Alcott dryly noted that the beef at dinner was, “evidently put down for the men of ’76.” When food was scarce, nurses at the Union Hospital often passed their rations on to the wounded men. Louisa May Alcott lasted just six weeks that winter before succumbing to typhoid fever. When she was well enough, he father collected her and brought her back to Massachusetts, her nursing days at an end.

For more on Louisa May Alcott: http://civilwarwomen.blogspot.com/2008/01/louisa-may-alcott.html.

Sources: Louisa May Alcott, Hospital Sketches (1869).

Mary Mitchell, Divided Town: A Study of Georgetown, DC During the Civil War, Massachusetts: Barre Publishers, 1968.

Picture Source: The Whitman Archive.

The Major majorly loses it...and with good reason

You’re standing outside 8 Jackson Place, when suddenly you hear footsteps and Wait! Was that a woman’s voice? How can it be, there’s no one standing around you? You, the tourist, quickly consult your DC guide book. Aha there it is! 8 Jackson Place—the Rathbone House—former home of Major Henry Rathbone, who shot his wife and stabbed himself. They say the place is haunted!

Major Rathbone is most famous for having been in the box at Ford’s Theatre the fateful night President Lincoln was shot. Rathbone’s fiancée Clara Harris was a close friend of the Mary Todd, and after General Grant could not make it to the play, Harris and Rathbone accompanied the Lincoln’s to the viewing of Our American Cousin. It was Rathbone who witnessed Booth entering the box, and it was he who made a grab at Booth, suffering a slash across the chest from Booth’s knife. Clara Harris soon found her dress covered in Rathbone’s blood.

Though our favorite president met this end, Rathbone recovered. The couple married in 1867 and eventually had children. Recovered in body Major Rathbone, never fully recovered in spirit. He blamed himself for failing to prevent Lincoln’s assassination. He suffered headaches and grew paranoid that his wife and children would leave them. His condition forced him to resign his commission in the army and take his family to Europe in search for a cure.

Early on Christmas Eve morning in 1883, Rathbone entered his wife’s bedroom fully dressed in a suit. He asked for the children. Clara pointed out the early hour. Rathbone took out a revolver and shot his wife. He then stabbed himself with a knife six times. His wife quickly died and was buried in Hanover, but the tortured Henry survived yet again. He was placed in an asylum in Germany and spent the rest of his days shouting about people in the conspiring to get him. The US Consul in Germany declared him “hopelessly insane.” Rathbone died in 1911, and was buried next to Clara with little fanfare. Incidentally, his son went on to become a member of the House of Representatives representing the great state of Illinois.

As to whether or not the Rathbone house is haunted, I’ll leave it to you to decide. Personally though, I find it difficult to believe that the ghosts of the Rathbones would cross the Atlantic Ocean and take residency there. It would be a chilly swim… even for a ghost.

Sources: Doris Kearns Goodwin, Team of Rivals.

Michael E. Ruane, “A Tragedy’s Second Act,” The Washington Post, page W14 (April 5, 2009).

Gene Smith, “The Haunted Major,” American Heritage, February/ March 1994, Vol 45 Issue 1.

Sisters, Sisters

Though the Pearl Incident is not widely remembered in US History, it had profound consequences for both the slaves involved and for the abolitionist movement. In particular, it influenced the lives of two slaves, a preacher, and one feisty authoress: Mary Edmonson, Emily Edmonson, Henry Ward Beecher, and Harriet Beecher Stowe.

The Edmonson sisters (At Left: Mary and Emily), Mary (1832-1853) and Emily (1835-1895), were 15 and 13 years old when they attempted escape aboard the Pearl with four of their brothers. Born in Maryland, Mary and Emily were both of fair complexion (a very desirable quality for female slaves), and as a consequence they had been hired out as house servants in Washington. Learning of the planned escape on the Pearl by other slaves, the Edmonson siblings decided the time was right to make their escape. As we know (see previous post), the slaves aboard the Pearl were captured and returned to the District. Their fate was to be sold, and live out a grueling life in the disease ridden swamps of the Deep South.

In Alexandria, the Bruin & Hill Company located on 1707 Duke Street, purchased the two sisters and their four brothers for $4500. Paul Edmonson, a freeman and father of the six Edmonsons aboard the Pearl, scrambled to find the money to purchase his children before they left for New Orleans. Joseph Bruin went around town boasting that he would make $1800 a piece for Mary and Emily. It became apparent that Bruin intended to sell the beautiful fair skinned sisters as mistresses or sex slaves in the popular New Orleans “fancy trade.” After all, the value of a young female slave at the time was closer to $600-800, only those in the “fancy trade” would sell for higher. Local abolitionists were appalled; they and along with Paul Edmondson worked to raise $1000 per sister. But Bruin wouldn’t sell; why accept $1000 when you could get $1800?

The money wasn’t raised in time. The brig carrying the Edmonsons arrived in New Orleans on June 14, 1848. They were held at a slave pen, and forced as fancy women to stand in the front windows to attract potential buyers. The sisters were poked and prodded and subjected to lewd comments from buyers. Fortunately, their luck changed as a yellow fever epidemic broke out in New Orleans. Fearing a loss in profit from the wrath of the disease, Bruin & Hill had the sisters shipped back to Baltimore. With assurance from Bruin that he would reduce the price of Mary and Emily’s freedom to $2500, Paul Edmonson went about raising money for their release. Hearing of their plight in Brooklyn, Henry Ward Beecher and his congregation took action to raise funds as well. Beecher spoke out on the horrors of slaves sold into prostitution by “human flesh-dealers of Christian girls.” His blistering sermons had women donating jewelry and men outbidding each other to donate to the increasingly popular abolitionist cause. By November the money had been raised, and the sisters were freed.

Rejoicing in their freedom, Mary and Emily travelled to New York to join a circuit of abolitionist speakers as celebrity guests. At rallies, Beecher spoke on the need for education for African-American and appealed to the audience to donate money to educate the girls. Mary and Emily told their story to large audiences and participated in mock slave auctions in attempt to further stir sympathy from Northerners.

Where is the feisty authoress in all of this? Ms. Stowe was Henry Ward’s sister, and in being so, she was well aware of the plight of the Edmonsons. In her book, Key to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, she cited the Edmonsons and their escape on the Pearl as inspiration for Uncle Tom’s Cabin--a book some credit with sparking the Civil War. Stowe intervened in the lives of the Edmonsons and had the sisters sent to Oberlin College, the first college to accept African-Americans. Sadly, Mary died of tuberculosis not long after her arrival at Oberlin. Distraught, Emily returned to Washington to be closer to her family and continued her studies at the Normal School for Colored Girls near Dupont Circle. She remained active in the abolitionist cause.

Sources: Josephine F. Pacheco, The Pearl: A Failed Escape on the Potomac.

Mary Kay Ricks, Escape on the "Pearl".

The Poetry of Presidential Wit

So, I've been on kind of a Lincoln kick lately. To compound the fact that I teach kids about Lincoln three days a week, my reading material of late has been Tried by War: Abraham Lincoln as Commander in Chief by James McPherson. Having finished that, I've moved on to my favorite Civil War history, Shelby Foote's The Civil War -- a three-tome 3,000-page behemoth that dotes equally on the leadership of both Lincoln and his presidential rival, Jefferson Davis, throughout the war.

Living in a city with so many Lincoln-related places to see doesn't help, either. Between the Soldier's Home (Lincoln's get-away while president), Ford's Theatre, and the Lincoln Memorial, there are lots of options for an Honest Abe tour of the city. All these relics, however, are shrines to a hero; monuments to the Defender of the Union, the Great Emancipator. Yet Lincoln, who did so much to carry the United States through its greatest crisis, was more still: he was funny.

It turns out, he liked to tell stories; not droning or moralistic stories, but poignant anecdotes with a touch of tall tale -- like the kind your wily great uncle used to tell you. General George McClellan, when he was commander of the Army of the Potomac, wrote to his wife, "I have just been interrupted here by the President and Secretary Seward, who had nothing very particular to say, except some stories to tell, which were, as usual, very pertinent, and some pretty good. I never in my life met anyone so full of anecdote as our friend." Once, when asked how he liked the job of being president, he responded with the story of a man out West who had been tarred and feathered. "As he was being ridden out of town on a rail, [he] heard one among the crowd call to him, asking how he liked it, high up there on his uncomfortable perch. 'If it wasn't for the honor of the thing,' the man replied, 'I'd sooner walk.'"

It seems Lincoln always had something witty up his sleeve. Later in the war, the President was leaving the company of an Illinois editor who claimed to be the first to have suggested Lincoln for the presidential nomination. "Goodbye," Lincoln said, "I hope you will feel perfectly easy about having nominated me. Don't be troubled about it. I forgive you."

Lincoln's way with words extended to the metaphor, as well. Lincoln employed analogies to explain concepts in terms everyone could understand. Arguing for harsher policies against the Southern states, Lincoln said that the war could no longer be fought, "with elder-stalk squirts, charged with rose water." Later in the war, as General Sherman was wreaking havoc in the lower South while General Grant's Army of the Potomac held the South's largest army near Richmond, Lincoln remarked, "Grant has the bear by the hind leg while Sherman takes off the hide."

So, should you visit any of the many Lincoln shrines in Washington, remember that Honest Abe was not carved from granite, but was a likable fellow, with a "fund of humorous anecdote."

Sources:
Shelby Foote, The Civil War: Fort Sumter to Perryville (New York: Vintage Books, 1986), 66, 140, 166, 409.
James M. McPherson, Tried by War: Abraham Lincoln as Commander in Chief (New York: The Penguin Press, 2008), 106, 255.
Photo Source: http://open.salon.com/blog/heather_michon/2009/03/11/new_lincoln_photo_--_do_some_fact-checking_media

Circles and Squares Roundup

Yehaw!

No it's not a lesson in geometry. Simply put, I was thinking the other day that I know who most of the squares and traffic circles in DC are named after, but I'm fairly certain most others who live here do not. Now, that may have something to do with my time as a fifteen-year-old shut-in Civil War buff; a phase I imagine the majority of people did not endure. Therefore, I thought it might be nice to do a little write-up on who the various historical figures whose names we use each day were, given that the vast majority were, in fact, Civil War figures of varying degrees of importance. So, here are a few Civil War-related circles and squares you may have passed through, in no particular order:

Thomas Circle - General George Thomas, who made up for his rather commonplace name by having lots of fun nicknames: "Pap," "The Rock of Chickamauga," "The Sledge of Nashville." General Thomas was a level-headed, competent Union General in the Western Theater.

McPherson Square - James B. McPherson, another competent general of the Western Theater, who died in 1864 just outside Atlanta.

Dupont Circle - Rear Admiral Samuel DuPont, who did not fare well during the Civil War. Though he was the first officer to command Union ironclads, he never distinguished himself during the war and retired in 1863 after a failed assault on Charleston.

Farragut Square - Admiral David Farragut, who distinguished himself in the taking of New Orleans, as well as Mobile, AL. He was the highest-ranking naval officer in the United States during the Civil War.

Scott Circle - General Winfield Scott, the highest-ranking officer in the American army at the time of the Civil War. General Scott was truly a hero of the Mexican-American War, and was so old and unhealthy by the time of the Civil War that he resigned in 1861.

Logan Circle - General John Logan, yet another competent but undistinguished Western Theater commander. See my Bizarre Bites post for more on his later political career.

Sheridan Circle - General Phil Sheridan, an able Western commander who was transferred to the Eastern Theater late in the war, and succeeded in gaining control of the long-contested Shenandoah Valley. Later an Indian killer.

Picture Source: http://www.planetware.com/picture/washington-d-c-us-dc242.htm

Every Rose has its Thorn

At Right: Rose Greenhow and her daughter "Little Rose" at the Old Capitol Prison.

From her home on 16th Street near St. John’s Episcopal Church, Rose O’Neale Greenhow was perfectly situated as a spy for the Confederacy. Known as the Wild Rose, the widow was both socialite and seductress, playing host to a variety of politicians including President James Buchanan and William Seward.

After South Carolina’s succession in 1861 Greenhow was contacted by a U.S. Army captain who intended to switch sides and fight for his native Virginia. Realizing what great influence Rose Greenhow held in Washington society, the captain taught her simple code and established a means of communicating with her through a network of Southern sympathizers.

The Wild Rose found an informative paramour in abolitionist Henry D. Wilson*, a Senator from Massachusetts and Chairman of the Military Affairs Committee. A married man, Senator Wilson would sign his love letters to Greenhow as “H” (the letters would say such scandalous things as, “If fate is not against you, I will be with you this night…My love is all”). Through “H” Greenhow gleaned intelligence on Union troop movements.

As Union and Confederate troops prepared for war, Greenhow sent a message to Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard, in which she passed along Union battle plans for the First Battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861. The message was delivered just days before the battle on July 9th, via another female spy who tucked the message into the bun of her hair and warned Beauregard that “McDowell has certainly been ordered to advance on the sixteenth. ROG.” For her service, Confederate President Jefferson Davis credited Greenhow with the victory at Bull Run.

Greenhow continued to send coded messages, but unfortunately the downside of being well-known is being well-known. She was soon suspected of espionage and was arrested by the Secret Service in August 1831. Ever determined, Greenhow continued to send her messages from the Old Capitol Prison (at the site of the present day Supreme Court) and later in her home under house arrest, through candles in the windows.

In May 1862, the Federals released Greenhow and deported her to Richmond, Virginia, where she was hailed as a heroine. Jefferson Davis soon dispatched Greenhow to Britain to drum up support for the Southern Cause. Returning to North Carolina in 1864, Rose Greenhow met a tragic end. The ship she had been travelling on had run aground near Cape Fear during a storm. Despite the raging storm, Greenhow demanded to be taken ashore in a rowboat. The boat capsized, and Greenhow drowned. Upon her body, recovered having been washed ashore, was a cipher used for one of her many correspondences. Wow, she was persistent!

*Some historians debate whether or not “H” stood for Henry Wilson or his secretary Horace White.

Sources: Ann Blackman, Wild Rose.

Ishbel Ross, Rebel Rose.

Arlington Cemetery, Part II

In my first post on the topic, I focused mainly on Arlington House and the history of the site before it became a cemetery. I revisited Arlington National Cemetery this (Sunday) morning, with the goal of finding Civil War era graves. The Union dead were the first soldiers to be buried at Arlington, after the property was seized at the outset of the war. So, seeking these veterans out seems like a way to keep these posts roughly chronological. In addition, I am a total nerd for the Civil War. I have read a lot about it, know a lot about it, and I had spotted several familiar names on markers around the cemetery on my first two visits. So I really wanted to check it out.

I decided that rather than actually speak with someone who knows the area (like, say, a tour guide), I would just walk around and see what I would find. I ended up taking many pictures, as it was a gorgeous day. What follows, then, is basically my visit in pictures.

The first Civil War era grave I stumbled upon. The Civil War veterans are easy to spot because the names are framed by this badge shape, and because in the spirit of the time, they all have the state they fought for listed.



Nearby that first grave, I found the towering marker for Joseph Wheeler. Wheeler was actually a Confederate general during the Civil War, and ably commanded the cavalry of the Army of Tennessee. Later, however, he (re)joined the United States military and served as a general during the Spanish-American War, earning himself an incredibly tall spot in Arlington.





General George Crook was also buried beneath an elaborate gravestone. The back of which, pictured here, depicts him accepting the surrender of Geronimo and his men.


Throughout the cemetery, one can find graves from the time period mixed in with everyone else, as with the three visible here.





Eventually, however, I found a vast area that was almost entirely Civil War veterans, in the northern end of the cemetery.



I even found a monument honoring the Confederate dead. The graves circling this monument were all Southern veterans, and their graves were distinguished with a slight point at the top, rather than the smooth semi-circle topping most markers at Arlington.










Sunday was the third day of spring, and I wanted to photograph this robin, but he was having none of it.











It was also a lovely day. Our nation's heroes have a truly peaceful place to rest.