

Some Wore Blue & Some Wore Gray

Heather Graham

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Heather Graham

The Why of This Little Booklet

I have always loved New Orleans. From the first time I went with my dad when I was a child, I was in love with the architecture, the music, the art—and the cemeteries. I've used the city as the setting for many books.

To that end, in 2005 I was in the city with my children and my nephew filming a book trailer in Lafayette Cemetery in the Garden District one weekend. It was fun and wonderful—they were all dressed up as ghosts from different eras in the city's history for a book about a ghost tour guide called Ghost Walk. We went home, and that same week Katrina came and struck Miami. We watched as it moved across the Gulf with growing dread. At a "1" status the storm ripped up the city of Miami. Watching it strengthen, we feared for our fellows in the Florida Panhandle and the rest of the Gulf States.

Katrina herself didn't destroy the city—those in Biloxi and other cities were battered more fiercely. But when the levees broke and the city of New Orleans began to flood, my family feared that we might have taken some of our last pictures of a place so unique in history, a place unlike any other place in our country.

The damage was, of course, devastating. The human life lost was more than tragic.

But Americans who love their homes will always pick up the pieces.

To that end, I returned to the city as quickly as possible, and it was seeing friends there that got me going on Writers for New Orleans. At the time of this visit, I had a child living with me who—with hundreds of others—had been sent out of Louisiana in order to be able to continue school. But what I heard from her parents, along with my carriage-driving and tourist-working friends was that while they were incredibly grateful to the American people, who were helping (not so much city, parish, state or federal government, but the American people), what they needed to do was work. They needed people to come back to the city. So, the year of the storms—Katrina, Rita, and Wilma—Writers for New Orleans was born. What kind of writer? Ahhhh—any! Maybe people didn't want to write—but perhaps they read. Perhaps they were just being dragged along. To that end, we planned a conference that would incorporate writers, readers—and those who just wanted to see New Orleans. So that meant we had parties.

A few years ago, at one of my Writers for New Orleans conference, my friends—writers F. Paul Wilson, Kathy Love, and Erin McCarthy—hosted a party for Writers on Bourbon Street. We try to theme each year and our theme that year was the Civil War. (Or the War of Northern Aggression; yes, I'm still alive as I write this and that's how it was taught to me in school in Florida!) Our people love costumes and so we had a costume party and a contest called "Know your Civil War Characters." We had quite a few in our group specifically dressed as people from Civil War times. For example, we dressed up Paul—who is from New Jersey—as Robert E. Lee. My son Jason, from Florida, was dressed up as Grant. I was Varina Davis . . . son Shayne was Custer while son Derek was the great Southern cavalryman Jeb Stuart. Everyone was given a booklet to read and allowed to ask questions of those we had costumed specially as characters. They then made their guesses and prizes were given out.

This year is the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg and the Siege of Vicksburg. Vicksburg surrendered on July 3rd. Gettysburg ended on the 4th. Both were pivotal moments, and, perhaps, the fact that both occurred on such a date meant something since the outcome of the war had everything to do with the breaking or making of our great nation.

Years ago, I wrote three books in something called the Cameron Series—One Wore Blue, One Wore Gray, and And One Rode West. (The first books were Sweet Savage Eden, A Pirate's Pleasure, and Love Not a Rebel—the settling of the country, the age of pirates, and the American Revolution.)

These three books were near and dear to my heart. For years my family had traveled up and down the east coast to see relatives in the North. With five children, we often wound up going to museums and cemeteries and shrines, learning about the great divide that had nearly torn us apart as a country. Witnessing a reenactment and learning about real families torn asunder, I wanted to write fiction that explained everyone's way of thinking—and to show the good, the bad, and the ugly of those who lived and died in such traumatic times.

This year, Bantam is rereleasing Blue, Gray, and West. They were written long ago, and yet they remain, to me, close and important and a very real part of my own life.

This list of important players in the war is far from complete—and also contains some of my personal feelings. It should grow and will grow.

But those in these pages were different, with different goals and passions and beliefs. Think of today, as we are so often torn apart. We are still mostly, truly good people—with different thoughts and opinions on how things should be done, and often equally passionate with those thoughts and opinions.

North and South—good men fought and good men died. Please share your opinions with me—tell me if you think I'm wrong and tell me who you believe should be added. This will continue as a free work in progress!

P.S.—These days, I'm still into history, just now in the form of ghosts. Contemporary stories—but filled with history. If you like, please check out my Krewe of Hunter series and Cafferty and Quinn books. All have segments of the past. I love history—but I'm not an historian. And I don't mind being corrected if I've gotten something wrong, though I warn you, if I think I'm right, I will argue my case!

SOME WORE BLUE

Clara Barton

The Angel of the Battlefield

"I have an almost complete disregard of precedent, and a faith in the possibility of something better. It irritates me to be told how things have always been done. I defy the tyranny of precedent. I go for anything new that might improve the past." - Clara Barton

Truly strong and innovative, Clara Barton was an amazing woman. To this day, anyone in a perilous situation in the United States may be grateful to her for the fact that the United States has the Red Cross, and many a person living today with antecedents who fought in the Civil War might be here for her good graces—she was certainly responsible for saving many lives on the battlefield.

Clara Barton was born Clarissa Harlowe Barton in Oxford, Massachusetts, on Christmas Day, 1821. She was the fifth child of a loving, patriotic, and dedicated family; her parents helped found the first Universalist Church in Oxford. She was taught from the time she was a child that a Christian's duty was to help others in distress. She was also nurtured to be independent, and she would remain so all of her life. When she was eleven, her brother had an accident, and she would help nurse him for the next three years. At the time, she would hear tales about her great-aunt, who had worked as a midwife and, in times when doctors and surgeons were few and far between in outlying areas, acted almost as a doctor herself, helping those with illnesses and injuries.

As a young woman, she taught first, and then worked in the U.S. Patent Office, and her pay was equal to that which a man might have received. But at the time, there were many people who did not think that women should work in positions of importance, and if they did, they certainly shouldn't receive the same titles and pay as a man. Her position became that of a copyist, and when Buchannan came in as president, her job was completely eliminated.

When Lincoln was elected, Clara was back to work, reinstated as a temporary copyist. She accepted the demotion and was eager to return to work, hoping to pave the way for more women.

On April 21st, 1861, Clara began to care for some of the first soldiers injured in the war. When Bull Run proved that many men would be wounded and killed and the war would not be quickly over, Clara not only stepped in to care for the wounded and needy, she began her bid to found an agency to bring supplies to the men on the battlefield. Formidable and determined, she went to General William Hammond, and he allowed her to ride in ambulances to bring comfort and needed supplies to the men in camps and barracks. The U.S. Army Bureau first refused to allow her to bring her own supplies out to the field, but in 1862, she was at last given permission, and from that point on, she traveled straight out into the lines, and was present at some of the worst killing fields of the war, including the sieges of Petersburg and Richmond. Though she didn't have an official title, General Butler dubbed her "the lady in charge." Clara was close enough to the lines to have a bullet rip through her sleeve; she survived without injury, but the bullet killed the man she'd been attempting to nurse on the field.

Following the Battle of Cedar Mountain, while a regimental surgeon worked, overwhelmed by the amount of injured and the care they needed, he looked up to find Clara there with a wagon full of supplies.

He later said that he was convinced that an angel had come.

Clara could convince others to join her cause, and many women, serving on the field and behind the lines, were able to point to her as a precedent, allowing them access to dangerous positions where they could truly be of direly needed assistance.

With her work and organizational abilities, she made great strides in improving battlefield-nursing care.

When the war was over, Lincoln put her in charge of searching for missing men. Dorence Atwater came to her. He had made a list of dead men while at Andersonville and escaped with it when he had been released. Together, he and Clara then made every attempt to discover the truth about the deaths of the men and to notify their families, corresponding with them with empathy and care. She went on a campaign to identify all those lost in the war, publishing names in newspapers, and trying to bring closure to the families who had no idea what had happened to their loved ones.

Clara became friends with Susan B. Anthony, and she campaigned for women's rights, and was an early adherent to Civil Rights for African Americans and former slaves.

In 1869, during a trip to Switzerland, she became acquainted with the Red Cross. Returning to the United States, she first fought hard to gain United States recognition for the International Red Cross, and then to instigate an American Red Cross. She met resistance, as leaders believed there could never be a situation like the Civil War again. Clara finally convinced American leaders that the Red Cross was an institution that could help in situations that were not the cause of war; natural disasters would always threaten, and the American Red Cross could help those in need.

During the administration of Chester Arthur, Clara finally won her case.

The American Chapter of the Red Cross was officially founded on May 21st, 1881, in Dansville, New York.

Clara became the first President of the American Red Cross. She would always be at the front, bringing nursing and more to those in need. She would lead the Red Cross to become an institution to help those displaced, those in need of supplies, and children who were left stranded or orphaned.

The Red Cross would be there when Galveston was hit with the disaster of the hurricane in 1900, and help with the placement of the children of the over six-thousand people killed, injured, or lost in the storm.

Barton resigned as president of the Red Cross in 1904, fearing that criticism that she received for her advancing age and management might be harmful to the organization.

She died on April 12th, 1912, at the age of ninety. She was surrounded by friends and supporters, and passed away quietly at her home at Glen Echo, Maryland.

Few women changed the world into which they were born with such dedication, determination, and betterment.

She is buried in the Barton family plot in Oxford, Massachusetts.

Whenever the Red Cross arrives at a time of need, Clara Barton must be remembered. Her legacy is invaluable, perhaps stronger today than ever before.

George Armstrong Custer

Son of the Morning Star

Although far better known for his exploits against the Western tribes—and "Custer's Last Stand,"—Custer began his military career with the Civil War. A hero—or a villain? Custer's life, bravado, and recklessness will be debated by historians into infinity, but in the Civil War, he began his career by making a difference.

Born December 5th, 1839, in New Rumley, Ohio, Custer already had half siblings from his mother's previous marriage, and was born into a working class family. He sold coal to pay for his room and board while he studied, anxious to gain an appointment to West Point—he wanted to be a soldier from the time he was a child. He graduated last in his class of thirty-four cadets at West Point, but graduate he did in 1861, just at a point when soldiers were desperately needed—his class was graduated early and sent to Washington, D. C.

Custer was young, daring, dedicated—the Union's answer to J.E.B. Stuart, although, unlike Stuart, his personality was more single-sighted, and he made enemies among his contemporaries. Despite this, or perhaps because of this and his position in his class, he was absolutely determined on glory.

He was nearly held up on a disciplinary charge, but friends interceded, and as a brand new second lieutenant he was sent to fight with the cavalry at Bull Run (Manassas.) The battle was a rout, and Custer quickly saw firsthand how the Southern soldiers could fight.

In the Spring of 1862, he was assigned to the staff of General George McClellan, and in this position, he came in contact with Thaddeus Lowe, and wound up rising with the "aeronaut" in a balloon to spy on Southern troops. He learned the importance of knowing an enemy's position and strength, and as the war continued, his reconnaissance reports would become invaluable.

Custer overheard a commander wishing he knew how deep a river crossing was and immediately set out to find the answer, riding into the water. Because of this, the first Confederate flag was captured, and Custer was congratulated for his courage. He rose to captain.

Around this time, he fell in love with Elizabeth Bacon. When they met, "Libby's" father was not fond of Custer. He was the son of a blacksmith, and not good enough for his daughter. But, as Custer's military star continued to rise, Libby's father relented. Though she hadn't been impressed at first herself, Libby became enamored of Custer. The two would be married in February of 1864.

In 1863, he was assigned to a cavalry unit that saw a great deal of action in Virginia. He was known for his "golden curls" and for his flamboyant hat. Rumor had it that he escaped an onslaught of the enemy once because his style was such that the enemy assumed he was one of their own. Custer became one of the most photographed figures during the Civil War when photographers were just beginning to record battlefield events. The famed photographers of the day certainly saw something in the young man's ability to pose before a camera.

Before the Battle of Gettysburg, Custer was promoted to the rank of brigadier general of volunteers, making him one of the youngest generals at the age of twenty-three. He was, in fact, to be at every major engagement in the Eastern campaign of the Civil War except for one.

He was instrumental in driving Stuart's cavalry back at Gettysburg and would be among the fighting forces on the day that Stuart was mortally wounded.

His name was quietly blackened during the war as well, and again, historians argue his guilt. Colonel Mosby of the Confederacy was a massive knife in the side of the Union army. Custer was in command when a number of Mosby's men were executed at Front Royal. Mosby was furious, and stated that he would execute an equal number of Custer's men. This was an exception in a war in which most commanders followed fair conventions of decency with prisoners and prisoner exchanges.

Nevertheless, Custer would continue to impress his superiors with his abilities.

Custer would receive the first flag of truce from the Army of Northern Virginia and be present when Lee surrendered at Appomattox Courthouse.

With the war over, Custer was assigned to Texas and then the west. He was mustered out of volunteer service and into the regular army, where he became a lieutenant colonel with the cavalry.

The debate remains over his relationship with the many tribes of Native Americans with whom he dealt. He was known to have had respect for many of his enemies, but he remained equally determined on the glory of his cavalry. He fought in brutal campaigns that killed thousands, and shoved thousands more onto the reservation lands. He was not alone in his capacity for killing the native peoples he found; Generals Sherman and Sheridan, also noted for their Civil War tactics, were equally blind when it came to treaties and agreements that had been signed when the American lust for land demanded routes to the west. Custer, however, was known to have a relationship with a Cheyenne woman with whom he lived on the plains. She had two children, and one, even Custer's wife believed to be his as the child had golden streaks in his hair. Whether he bore true affection for members of the Cheyenne tribe can't be known for certain, or, if in his life in the cavalry, he merely found the need for sexual gratification. Numerous books written, and movies made, have tackled question with different versions of what could be the truth. (Some historians believe that his brother, Tom, fathered the children, as Custer might have been sterile due to gonorrhea. Both Tom and George Custer took mercury treatments for the disease.) Custer became known as the "Son of the Morning Star" during his campaigns in the west. He was noted by the leaders of many tribes as a fierce and notable commander.

In 1876, the Sioux and Cheyenne banded together to fight off the threat that was leveled at them. At the battle of the Rosebud, they fought hard against the troops of General Crook. Custer was assigned to find the troops who had fought after the battle and root them out.

He had 655 men. He found the Indians encamped near the Bighorn River, but he was some distance away and couldn't really judge the scope of the encampment; he completely underestimated their number. Instead of waiting for General Terry and the rest of the army, he decided to attack. He sent Benton and Reno with their commands to flank the encampment; Major Reno, the first to attack, quickly discovered that he was massively outnumbered and sought a defensive position with Benton.

Custer and his men rode into the pages of history. The Son of the Morning Star died at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, or, as it's now known, Custer's Last Stand.

While other bodies were mutilated beyond description, Custer's body was not touched. He was discovered with three bullet holes, and not with arrow wounds. There was speculation that he might have saved those bullets for himself, but in 1909 there was a council among the eleven tribes who had fought at the Bighorn, and the honor of Custer's death was bestowed on Chief Brave Bear of the Southern Cheyenne.

Despite all the pain she must have borne due to his exploits, Libby Custer passionately defended her husband after his death. She would live to the ripe old age of ninety, still defending him, and living off the comfortable financial status she achieved by lecturing and writing about her husband.

She is buried next to him at West Point Cemetery. (Custer was originally buried next to his brother at the site of the battle; a year later, he was disinterred and brought to West Point.) While she and George had wanted children, they were never to have them. Libby was never to remarry, embracing his memory throughout her life.

George Armstrong Custer, the Son of the Morning Star, continues to be a man debated by military men and historians, and his legend lives on.

Julia Dent Grant

Mrs. General-Hero

By all remaining historical accounts, Julia Dent Grant was a warm, energetic and impressive woman, and her marriage to Ulysses Grant was a happy one, despite the many trials and tribulations the couple were destined to face. Throughout her life she considered him the brave, handsome soldier she had always wanted to marry.

She was born to a plantation home and family January 26th, 1826, the fifth of eight children, but the first girl. Her lifestyle was privileged; she played, rode, and fished with her brothers, and as the first girl was adored and coddled. She went on to spend seven years at the Mauro Boarding School where she excelled in literature and art, but didn't care much for math. While she was there, she read The Dashing Lieutenant, which certainly influenced her longing to marry a military man.

In 1844, Julia had returned home when her brother, Frederick Dent, brought a friend home to visit—his West Point roommate, Ulysses S. Grant. From the beginning it seemed that the two were right for one another. They had both been raised as Methodists, they both loved reading, horses—and events of the day. Julia was someone with whom Grant could easily talk. Although she wasn't considered traditionally beautiful—and was, in fact, cross-eyed—she was energetic and vivacious. Grant, always an outdoorsman, found her not afraid of being outside and fascinating.

Courtship was not particularly easy for them; Julia's father had envisioned his first daughter marrying into a rich family. Grant lived on a soldier's pay. Grant's family disapproved of Julia's; they were slaveholders. But, though they kept their engagement secret for a while, Grant finally asked Julia's father for her hand. Colonel Dent said they would have to wait out the Mexican-American War, which they did. Although they didn't dislike Julia, Grant's parents would not attend the wedding; they were not reconciled to her family being slaveholders. But, on August 22nd, 1848, they were married at Julia's home, White Haven.

Julia became a soldier's wife, following her husband to various barracks. She'd never had to learn to keep a house or cook, so for her, it was a tremendous learning experience. She maintained a cheery disposition throughout her trials and endeavors, having certainly known that she was marrying a soldier and therefore, a man on a soldier's pay. Their first two children were born while Grant was in the military, Frederick in 1850 and Ulysses Jr. (called Buck for Ohio, where he was born.) When Grant was stationed on the West Coast, Julia was not with him. In 1854, he resigned, threatened with a discharge for insubordination. As a civilian, Grant tried hard, but seemed to fail at everything he tried to do. They tried to farm, and Grant built a small house they called Hardscrabble—Julia hated it. The farm failed, but Julia's family was finding that farming was failing for them at the same time. By then, Ellen and Jesse were born, in 1855 and 1858. Grant tried being a rent collector, but could not make an income. Eventually, he went to work for his father, where he was eking out a living in the tannery when the Civil War broke out.

Grant wanted Julia to be with him. She could be down to earth, steadfast, and cheerful, and she was an asset to him as a leader. Known for his hard drinking, Grant was more temperate when Julia was at his side. When it was safe, she was with him. When it wasn't prudent for her to join him, she worked hard at the war effort, nursing soldiers as so many women did, and sewing uniforms. At war's end, she found herself married to one of the most revered men in the nation.

With Lincoln's assassination, and the trials of Johnson's tenure, the White House was an inviting prospect for the Grant family. Despite the many scandals that would rock Grant's presidency, Julia was noted for being a charming hostess and perfect first lady; she opened receiving lines to all who would visit and worked hard to restore the White House. She was noted for being "unpretentious." Julia would later say that the years she spent in the White House were the happiest of her life

The most important social occasion that occurred in the White House during the Grant years was the wedding of their daughter, Ellen, or "Nellie," to Algernon Sartoris in the East Room of the White House on May 21st, 1874. Sartoris was known as a black sheep and a womanizer, and President Grant gave his daughter away showing tremendous emotion while Julia was well aware that they couldn't stop their daughter from falling in love where she chose.

During their White House years, at a time when the Grants were enjoying financial prosperity, friends suggested that Julia undergo a surgery to correct her eyes. But, she could say with full confidence that her husband loved her eyes just the way they were, and she wouldn't risk surgery.

Julia so loved the White House that Ulysses Grant was saddened when he had to tell her that he wouldn't seek a third term. She was charming and welcoming to President Hayes, but she cried when she had to leave the White House the final time as its hostess.

Ulysses, despite the problems that had plagued him politically, remained a hero. He and Julia traveled abroad where they were welcomed and showered with gifts. But, home again, Grant was once taken on a business matter, and after their years of wonder in the White House and the magic of their years abroad, they found themselves nearly destitute.

Through it all, Julia proved that her wedding vows were sacred to her; she loved her dashing military man through richer and poorer—in sickness and health. Soon after receiving the news that he had been swindled by a business partner, Ulysses was diagnosed with throat cancer. Knowing that he was dying, he began writing his memoirs, anxious to leave Julia situated when he died. She remained by his side while he lay writing, stricken and in pain, and when he died, she was devastated. They had truly shared a marriage and a life, and without him, she was lost.

Grant's memoirs, however, provided her with the financial means with which to move back to Washington, D.C., and to travel. Julia wrote her own memoirs as well, but couldn't find a publisher. Her book was not to find a place on the shelves until Southern Illinois University Press published her memoirs in 1975. Despite her failure to publish, she was grateful for her life, and for her husband's determination on his memoir, which had left her able to live independently and without worry. She was pleased to become friends with Varina Davis, widow of Jefferson Davis, and she was also happy to realize that many politically prominent women wanted to cultivate her friendship. Julia supported the Suffragette movement and Susan B. Anthony, and when her son-in-law died in Italy, she had her daughter and her grandchildren move in with her.

She was able to see the dedication of the General Grant National Memorial at Riverside Park in 1897, the parades that took place for the dedication, and the amount of people who attended.

Julia died in Washington of natural causes on December 14th, 1902. She is buried with her beloved husband at the General Grant National Memorial.

Ulysses S. Grant

The Hero of Appomattox

Ulysses S. Grant, while a great general, was a war hero who was elected to the presidency following Andrew Johnson's term. Johnson had been a Southerner taking office after the assassination of the beloved Abraham Lincoln; as such he had felt compelled to put punitive measures upon the South. Grant, following in his steps, would inherit the reins of a country still staggering with war wounds. History would prove that he was a far better general than a president, but whether as a general or as the president, he was honest; what blame fell his way was not the result of any malice, but in his dependence on those around him who weren't always so unscrupulously true to the facts or a situation. Politics fell upon him as a war hero; he was by training and nature excellent as a general. He was a man who would drink hard and pay the price, but also a man who was determined that when he saw the way, he would get the job done. His steadfast determination and refusal to retreat were certainly factors that finally brought the horrible bloodshed of the war to a halt.

While Robert E. Lee said during the peninsula campaign that Grant simply had incalculable numbers and supplies (something both generals knew), in later life, he would defend Grant, admiring him as one of the Union's finest generals. Lincoln once referred to him as "my only general."

Ulysses S. Grant was born April 27th, 1822, as Hiram Ulysses Grant in Point Pleasant, Ohio. The name change came about because of his appointment to West Point through Congressman Thomas Hammer. Hammer mistakenly sent in his name as Ulysses S. Grant; once his name was given to West Point in that manner, it had to stay. Grant accepted the new initials, deciding that the U.S. might well stand for Uncle Sam—friends sometimes came to call him Sam.

Grant graduated from West Point in the middle of his class; he didn't believe he'd been cut out for a military life, but he received an appointment as a second lieutenant. He met Julia Dent when he visited White Haven, her plantation home, with her brother, one of his military friends. He and Julia were quick to find an attraction for one another, although Julia was not considered a beauty in her day. She was intelligent, and provided Grant with a warmth he did not receive from his day-to-day life. The Mexican-American War would interfere with their relationship; Grant would serve beneath Zachary Taylor and Winfield Scott during the war, and though a quartermaster, he would prove his excellence with horsemanship. Throughout his life, though assigned differently, Grant would remain fond of horses and prove to be a brilliant commander in the saddle and of the cavalry.

After the Mexican-American War, Grant married Julia Dent, at her family home, White Haven, on August 28th, 1948. (At the time, he had no strong feelings regarding abolition; Julia's family owned many slaves.) He continued to serve in the army, assigned to posts in the West, including San Francisco while the gold rush took place. A quartermaster general, he was warned that he could resign, or face a court martial when his superiors discovered his drinking during a card game. Grant resigned. He and Julia went through lean years as he struggled to make a living. He tended to be vocal in his opinions. In close contact with many Indian tribes during his years in the West, he considered the Native Americans to be decent people—peaceful when not pushed into a wall.

In his attempts to make a living, Grant bought a slave from Julia's father. Planting, however, did not work for him. He took a job with his father as a tanner in Galena, Illinois. He was working there, with his family established in the city as well, when the war broke out. (The Grants would have four children; Frederick Dent Grant, 1850-1912, Ulysses S. Grant, Jr., 1852-1929, Ellen Wrenshall Grant (known as Nellie) 1855-1922, and Jesse Root Grant, 1858-1934.) As a civilian, he had a tendency to keep his politics to himself. As his father-in-law was a planter and a slaveholder, he was not, at that time, actively against the "peculiar institute of slavery." He voted for Buchannan against Fremont, because, as he was heard to say, he "knew Fremont," and also because he hoped against the split that was brewing within the nation. He supported Stephen Douglas over Abraham Lincoln.

After the shelling of Ft. Sumter, President Lincoln put out a call for 75,000 volunteers. Grant immediately set out to recruit men and he accompanied them to Springfield. He was given an assignment to further recruit and train men. He would eventually take command in the Cairo area, suffer some defeats in battles against Confederate General Pillow, but make such an impressive assault on Confederate water fortresses in collaboration with Admiral Foote that, by the end of August, he had risen to being an esteemed officer in the Union army.

The battle of Shiloh, the costliest in men and supplies in the war when it occurred (nearly 25,000 men, North and South, were lost,) saw Grant and General Sherman maintaining control. But Grant would be censored for the amount of men lost and assigned as second of command to General Halleck—and ready to resign. Sherman talked him into remaining.

Grant was not always what we now consider politically correct; he issued an order that prohibited Jews from his army. Lincoln saw that the order was rescinded, and Grant claimed that the order had come from Washington. However, he would go on to gain his own command again, and while he would suffer defeats along the way, his dogged and determined style would lead him to assault and then lay siege to Vicksburg. After Vicksburg, Grant was put in control of the Division of the Mississippi. His continued successes (amidst defeats as well) showed that he would prevail. He was a commander who was ready to change when change was necessary. It was his very ability to press forward after defeat, or perceived defeat, that impressed Lincoln, since so many of his generals were prone to withdraw rather than press forward.

In April of 1864, Lincoln would call Grant to Washington and discuss a combined military effort to force the South to surrender. This discussion would lead to Sherman's assault on the South and his march through Georgia, while Grant and the Army of the Potomac would assault General Robert E. Lee's troops in Virginia. The battles became fierce and bloody, but Grant fought an all-out campaign, something he could and did do, backed by Union manufacturing and numbers. He lost men and supplies, but didn't retreat, bringing about the fall of Petersburg, and then Richmond, and eventually, Lee's surrender at Appomattox Courthouse. Grant was not vindictive in accepting Lee's surrender; the men were free to return to their homes, promising only not to take up arms against the United States again.

After the war, however, Grant would advocate Republican and military presence in the South to a limited degree, and it wouldn't be until the Compromise of 1877 that the military was withdrawn from the Southern states. While the military occupation was a bitter thorn to the South, Grant's insistence that the military protect the Freedman's Bureau, set up to protect the rights of the newly free African American population, was certainly necessary. As a military commander after the war, he sent troops under Sheridan to the Texas border when Maximilian and the French Army invaded Mexico. (The French army would desert Maximilian, and he would subsequently be executed by the Mexicans. Also, the "Fenian" army made an attempt to conquer Canada to exchange it for Ireland. Grant extinguished the effort; in a sideline, the Irish Republican Army was formed.)

Grant entered politics knowing nothing. Scandal and corruption would mar his presidency. Grant did not become a dishonest man, but had a tendency to bestow positions of importance upon friends who were willing to use their appointments to their own benefit. He did, however, in his election campaigns work vigorously to reverse his own prior positions and support Jewish appointments.

Presiding over the latter half of Reconstruction, he supported a small military presence to counteract the terrorism of the KKK. Grant's 1868 campaign slogan was, "Let us have peace." He worked for the rights of American Indians and African Americans. He signed the Amnesty Act of 1872 in order to help repair the Union. Through two terms, he worked hard on his agendas, but was still beleaguered by corruption and the political climate of the day, in which he constantly battled a Northern supremacist mentality along with the violence in the South. There was no thought that he would win in a third election. Garfield followed him as president.

For two years after leaving office, Grant traveled Europe with his wife, and was popular on the lecture circuit. Grant learned that he had been swindled in a business deal around the same time he discovered that he had throat cancer. Samuel Clemmons, aka Mark Twain, offered Grant a generous book deal. He had done a number of articles about his various campaigns, and in order to support his family through his growing illness, and after his death, he set out to write his memoirs. Men with whom he worked reported that he turned in some of the cleanest copy ever seen on a memoir.

He died on a Thursday, July 23rd, 1885. He had just finished his Memoirs, and over 300,000 copies of the book sold, supporting his family after his death. Julia Dent would survive him, and, ironically, meet Varina Davis, widow of the Southern president, and the two would become fast friends in their twilight years.

He is buried at Grant's Tomb at Riverside Park, New York City, with his wife.

Joseph Hooker

Leader of Hooker's Girls

Joseph Hooker was born on November 13th, 1814, in Hadley, Massachusetts. He, like so many of his contemporaries, was destined for the service, being the grandson of a Revolutionary War Captain. As such, he graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1837.

Hooker was assigned to Florida to fight in the Second Seminole War where he came in contact with many of the men he would one day come to lead in the Civil War. He fought under Zachary Taylor (as did Jefferson Davis, among others). In the Mexican-American War, he would fight in staff positions for both Zachary Taylor and General Winfield Scott.

Also in Mexico, he would first gain his reputation for being a soldier quite fond of the ladies. According to history, the ladies were equally fond of him. He was called the Handsome Captain, and sincerely enjoyed his flirtations. Perhaps, had he been born at a later date, Hooker might have been diagnosed with an addiction, because he was so fond of so many ladies.

He found himself in a sticky wicket in California—having nothing to do with ladies. He testified against General Winfield Scott in the court-martial of Gideon Pillow. This caused his reputation serious injury and he resigned his commission. He was to soon discover that he didn't much care for civilian life, and he would attempt to get his commission back, but to no avail. The years 1859 to 1861 would find him soldiering with militia in California.

When the Civil War started, General Winfield Scott was still in command, and he appeared to be holding a grudge, because he wouldn't allow for Hooker to come back into the regular army. Sadly for the Union army, but to Hooker's benefit, Lincoln was appalled by the rout of his army at 1st Manassas, and when Hooker wrote to Lincoln—an excellent letter about the mismanagement he had seen—Lincoln was well aware that he was going to need more men who knew what they were doing. Lincoln gave him a commission with the volunteers.

The Union army was fighting in the East beneath McClellan, who tended to be an extremely cautious man. When Lincoln realized that McClellan was always going to retreat and that the war would never be won if the soldiers retreated at every battle, whether they were actually winning or not, he would be replaced with Burnside. During this time, Joseph Hooker managed to do well and prove himself an able commander. He was hard working, loyal, and focused on the welfare of his men. He also drank hard and played hard—he was a "man's man!"

Throughout the war, Hooker would do well and lead bravely, and then make a tactical mistake that would mar his reputation again. However, he became known as "Fighting Joe" because a newspaper article left out a hypen—"Fighting—Joe Hooker attacks Rebels!" became "Fighting Joe Hooker attacks Rebels!" The name sounded proud and strong, but Hooker didn't like it. He was afraid it made him sound like a maniac, ready to go in at any point.

His brigade was known for the ladies who followed his camp. They became known as "Hooker's Brigade," and sometimes, as "Hooker's Girls."

The term "hooker" can be traced back to 1845 when it was used to describe the women of the night who surrounded certain shipyards in New York City, and was seen in print in certain articles written during the day. Perhaps, however, it was General Joseph Hooker's concentration of the women who perpetuated the use of the word, and gave it far more prominence.

Hooker's biographers all state that whatever his reputation for alcohol and women, he never led his men into battle intoxicated in any way.

Hooker would marry Olivia Groesbeck, the sister of a congressman, when he was in command of the Northern Department in 1861, with his headquarters in Cincinnati. However, as the war came to a grinding and brutal close, Hooker's health began to decline as well. While he led Abraham Lincoln's Springfield procession in May of 1865, he was soon to suffer a stroke. He died on October 31st, 1879, having left the regular army with the rank of major general in 1868. Fighting Joe apparently paid for his wicked ways with the breaking down his body.

He is a man still much debated by Civil War historians. Joseph Hooker was known to voice his opinions, and he was brutal on his attacks against commanders he found to perform poorly in the field. These attacks on his superiors certainly hurt him and caused him to be much maligned, but through it all, he remained a hard core commander who was constantly concerned that his army be in the best shape, and that the individual lives of his men be considered sacred and acknowledged.

General Joseph Hooker is buried in Spring Grove Cemetery, Cincinnati, Ohio—Olivia's hometown.

An equestrian statue of Joe can be found before the Massachusetts state house. Beyond a doubt, the Union general who often aggravated Southern General Robert E. Lee was an excellent horseman who knew his way around a battlefield.

Despite his strong character and the mixed legend he left behind, Hooker was a strong commander and served fiercely during the Civil War, certainly making a difference. Like others, he was human, with his human foibles. Drinking—and a love of women—happened to be his weaknesses. However, he didn't let his drinking influence his command—and he was certainly loved by many women in return.

Legend has it that many of his "hookers" found not just an income in following his soldiers. It is believed that in the brutal bloodbath of the Civil War, they sometimes found husbands. Hooker's girls became wives and widows, and in their way, certainly provided comfort as few others did during the hard nights the soldiers endured, far from their homes.

Abraham Lincoln

Honest Abe

Abraham Lincoln was the sixteenth president of the United States and, according to many presidential scholars, the greatest American president. He was born February 12, 1809. He served as president from March 1861, until his death by assassination on April 15th, 1865. While we put him on a pedestal and his name is sacred to our history, Lincoln was a man who lived out a life that would prove to be pivotal in the growth of a country, he was also a human being who had frailties, defeats as well as triumphs, and heartbreak with the loss of family, especially the loss of beloved children.

It wouldn't have appeared when he was a child that he was destined for greatness. He was born in a log cabin in what was then Hardin County, Kentucky. But he was a boy eager to learn, and while he worked and lived the life of a farm boy, he was ever eager to read and educate himself. When Lincoln was nine years old, his mother, Nancy died of what they called "the milk sickness," as did others in his family. His father remarried a year later to Sarah Bush Johnston, a widow with three children, and his extended family grew. While he'd deeply loved his own mother, he became very close with his stepmother, and would remain so all of his life—despite the fact that his relationship with his father would sometimes be strained. When milk sickness threatened the area again in 1830, the family moved to Illinois. Farming and frontier life was hard, but Lincoln didn't mind the work, though he read constantly to better his education. In 1828, as a teenager, he was to take a trip on a flatbed to New Orleans; that experience would forever influence his life. He had never seen a major city before, and he had never seen anything like the slave market, which horrified him.

He was dutiful and responsible even as he grew up, working hard to support his family. He was an excellent rail-splitter, and believed in using his own income to support his family as he reached his maturity at the age of 21. Throughout his life, as a boy and a young man, Lincoln would show the determination that would one day prove to be his greatest strength. When forced into a challenge, he would wrestle, and win. Friends would mock him for not going on fishing and hunting trips, but he wasn't fond of killing animals, and he ignored the ridicule.

He liked living in Illinois where there were few slaves and fewer slaveholders. As an adult, he became a partner in a store, but then sold his share. He served as a captain in the Black Hawk War, as a postmaster, and made an unsuccessful early attempt at politics. He continued his desire for reading, and realized that he wanted to be a lawyer and was admitted to the bar in 1836. He served four terms in the state legislature.

Lincoln's first love was Ann Rutledge, but the young lady died of typhoid before the two could court and marry. He next courted Mary Owens, but the courtship was never fulfilled. In 1840, he met Mary Todd, and their relationship was an on and off one at first; they were finally married in 1842. Mary came from a slave-owning family and as Lincoln's young wife, she had to learn to manage all her household tasks on her own. Lincoln was able to focus almost entirely on what he was reading or studying, and once, while struggling to make a fire while he studied, Mary was reputed to have tapped him on the head with a fire log in order to gain his attention and help. The two lived in Springfield, Illinois, where Lincoln practiced law; his hard work and avid reading as a child and young adult had paid off, and he was adept at his new profession.

He and Mary would have four children, Robert, Edward, Willie, and Thomas, or Tad. He was known to love them all dearly and be a doting father. Edward only lived four years, dying in 1850. Both Lincolns suffered tremendous grief at the loss of their child.

While his family grew, so did Lincoln's political career. He was not always a popular candidate, even among his contemporaries. He was against the Mexican-American War, although he was saddened by the loss of American life. At the time, Texas was not American soil, and he didn't see where America itself had been attacked.

Lincoln was a man of passionate conviction when it came to slavery. From the beginning, his platform stood against the "peculiar institution."

When John Brown's raid took place at Harpers Ferry and Brown was executed, the country moved ever closer to war. While John Brown's methods toward emancipation were brutal and illegal—his acts often included cold-blooded murder—his message was one that many men embraced. The situation at Harpers Ferry would create fury—and make a martyr of a man who had certainly committed capital crimes.

Lincoln was determined that slavery had to be contained and then abolished. In his campaigns, he never wavered from that platform. He would come to public prominence like many men who would follow him—through his exceptional ability to speak. The Lincoln-Douglas debates and his speech at Cooper Union in New York would bring him to the national attention, which would ultimately result in his election to the presidency.

It was his election that tipped the scales toward war, but Lincoln held fast to his principles. In his inaugural speech he said, "In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the government, while I shall have the most solemn one to 'preserve, protect, and defend it'."

The Civil War, by the essence of what it was, brought about many ironies. Abraham Lincoln considered General Robert E. Lee to be one of the finest military leaders in the country, and he asked Lee to be his commander of the army; Lee, a man deeply devoted to his state of Virginia, though against secession, chose to go with his state. Lee would prove to be the Union's most astute adversary, proving Lincoln right in his assessment of the man's abilities as a battle commander.

The war was not easy for him, even within his own house. His wife's family was fervently Southern. During the war, he would open his house to the widows of family and in-laws who had died for the Southern Cause. Mary Lincoln suffered terribly from depression, and he was devoted to her as well, despite the fact that many questioned her mental health.

While we now know him as indubitably one of our finest presidents and national heroes, he was lampooned by the papers often during his presidency, ridiculed by opponents, and hated by many, even in the North. Despite the constant onslaught by those who had a different agenda, he held his own through his speeches and his behavior toward enemies within his own party and the Union itself.

He and Mary would lose a second son in the White House when his beloved Willie became desperately ill and passed away. The loss of the boy was devastating to both him and Mary, and neither recovered fully from the death of their child. Mary was known to have séances in the White House, and it was most probable that Lincoln attended at least one. (Jefferson Davis was also to lose a child while in the White House of the Confederacy, and the families were known, despite the war, to feel great empathy for one another at these times of personal tragedy.)

While we now look back at the Civil War as a show of great strength for the Union, they were exceptionally trying times throughout for the first family; draft riots erupted, and many political opponents campaigned on an anti-war platform, and would have gladly let the South go. Every day was a trial for Lincoln, and on top of his personal grief, he would suffer and go into severe depressions when the news of horrible losses came to him.

In 1863, he issued the Emancipation Proclamation and campaigned heavily for the Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution, abolishing slavery.

When the war was won, Lincoln looked forward to offering generous terms of reconciliation; he was eager for the country to reunite as one.

The President was reported to have had an omen of his own death. Several days before, he reported to his wife and a few friends, War Hill Lamon among them, that he'd dreamed he was walking through the White House and heard tears, but saw no one. He finally came to the East Room, and saw soldiers and a catafalque, and when he asked a soldier who had died, the soldier told him that the president had been assassinated.

Despite his dream, he was a man of the people, and he had promised Mary that he would take her to the theater. With the trials of war over, he needed the diversion, perhaps.

On April 14th, 1865, Confederate spy and sympathizer John Wilkes Booth shot the president at a performance of "Our American Cousin" at Ford's theater. He suffered a mortal wound, and was pronounced dead in the wee hours of April 15th.

"Now," said Secretary of War Stanton, "he belongs to the ages."

Mary Todd Lincoln

Abe's Molly, A Nation's She-Wolf

Mary Todd Lincoln would bear the brunt of criticism throughout her husband's presidency; she spent too much, she wasn't as refined as the society ladies of Washington D.C., and she simply had frontier sensibilities. At times, because of her temperament, she could be a trying wife to Abraham Lincoln; he loved her deeply and dearly and appreciated the love and loyalty she gave to him in turn. In days of desperation and despair, Mary was always there for him in turn, and stood by him devoutly despite her own family associations with and loyalty to the South.

While the first lady of our 16th president might not have understood the subtle tones of 1860s Washington, she was far from being a country bumpkin, as she was sometimes depicted by the Washington society of her time. She had a strong personality, and she was not one to sit in the background. Her nature was easily ruffled, and like the president himself, she was prone to long stages of melancholy, especially after the death of her son, Willie, in the White House. Though the Lincolns had earlier lost a child to disease, Willie had gained a greater age, and was a charming boy who had gained the love of the entire White House staff.

Mary was born December 13th, 1818, in Lexington, Kentucky. While her future husband was indeed growing up in a log cabin, Mary's family was far better economically situated. She was raised there in an upper-class residence. (The Mary Todd Lincoln House is now a museum.) At the age of six, Mary lost her mother, and when her father remarried, she was to have a difficult relationship with her stepmother. Nevertheless, Mary would benefit from her father's position. She left home early to go to a finishing school owned by a French woman, and there she would become fluent in French, learn to dance and sing, and discuss political matters with an agile tongue. She was courted by Stephen Douglas with whom Abraham Lincoln would one day meet in a series of historic debates; while Douglas would go on to win the senate seat for the great state of Illinois, Lincoln won the admiration of much of the Northern political clout at the time.

She was, in her own mind, first and foremost a wife and a mother. But, from the time of their marriage, she stood behind her husband in the political arena, and would write letters to members of the Whig party in support of him.

Mary was her husband's only true sounding board in the early years, and she would never forget that she had often advised him—even when he became president and was surrounded by cabinet members and other politicians. Her influence existed, much to the chagrin of some of his associates in the White House. She was prone to make friends and enemies, and in later years, continued to indulge in letter-writing campaigns when she was certain she was right. She was sometimes criticized by Washington society, as well as her husband's associates, who claimed that she was going to bankrupt Lincoln and the country. While she was apt to spend too much money, many of her purchases were brought on by the shambling appearance of the White House when she arrived. While others insulted the decorations and the aging furniture, Mary worked to right the situation.

Between her father's two marriages, Mary had fourteen siblings, most of who fought for the South, or who were Southern sympathizers—or destined to become Southern widows. Regardless of the heartbreak within her own family, Mary never decried her husband's beliefs or position. She never faltered in her devotion to his cause, though she and the president were to welcome her family into the White House when they were in need. While she always displayed her loyalty, she was often accused in the North of being sympathetic to the South.

Despite all accusations, Mary also worked for the war effort. She acted as a nurse at Union hospitals, and toured other hospitals as well, trying to bring encouragement to the men.

Mary supported her husband through the ups and downs of the Civil War. When Lincoln received the news of his reelection, his first thought was to bring the news to Mary.

Mary had physical ailments, including severe migraine headaches, and a carriage accident might have added to her woes. Both she and her husband were prone to "melancholy", or depression. Especially after the death of Willie, Mary became immersed in spiritualism. She would tell the president that she would awaken, and that she knew that Willie was standing at the foot of the bed, talking to her. She arranged for many séances to take place in the Red Room at the White House. It's believed that although Abraham Lincoln was not a believer in spiritualism as his wife, he did attend at least one of the séances. Lincoln himself was known to have haunting dreams. Before his death, he confided to a secretary that he had dreamed of walking through the White House and hearing sobbing and seeing a catafalque, only to ask and be told that the president had died.

In spite of the frightening dream, Abraham Lincoln was eager to show his wife a lovely evening, the fateful night at Ford's Theater. He held her hand and she whispered to him, "What will Miss Harris think of my hanging on to you so?" Her husband replied, "She won't think anything about it." They were to be the last words he would say.

The war won, Mary sat at his side, enjoying a close moment, when he was shot at point blank range by John Wilkes Booth. The President was brought to William Petersen's boarding house across the street.

The wound was fatal. The doctors knew it. A deathwatch was on. Mary was so hysterical that she had to be taken from the room.

Mary remained in the White House, broken, until May when she moved to Chicago. She began at last to settle Lincoln's estate, and started a campaign to draw a pension from Congress, and in time, would be awarded $3,000 a year. From there, she spent time in Germany with her son Tad; his death from disease left her so mentally unstable that her oldest son, Robert, had her tried for insanity and institutionalized. Afterwards, Mary and Robert, her only surviving son, never totally regained a close relationship. One of the country's first female lawyers, Myra Bradwell, filed an appeal on her behalf. After four months of confinement, she was released to the care of her sister. Mary later spent four years in France, and then returned to live with her sister Elizabeth Edwards in Springfield, Illinois, until her death, July 16th, 1882. She was sixty-three years old.

Mary Todd Lincoln, delicate in balance, has been much debated by historians. Reviled by some, she was loved by her husband, was a loving, giving wife in return, and a tender mother to her children. She was loyal to her husband when her own family was torn apart, and she stood by him even while she tried to comfort family members on the deaths of siblings and cousins and in-laws as they died fighting for the Confederate side. She and Abraham Lincoln had four children together, Robert Todd Lincoln (1843-1926), Edward Baker Lincoln (1846-1850), William "Willie" Wallace Lincoln (1850-1862), Thomas "Tad" Lincoln (1853-1871).

Only Robert would live to adulthood; he and his wife, also Mary, would have three children. (In one the ironies so consistent with the Civil War, Robert was once saved from serious injury or death by Edwin Booth, brother of John Wilkes Booth, who would soon after assassinate his father. Robert naturally knew the actor by his face, and when Booth caught him by the collar when he would have fallen beneath a train on a crowded street in New Jersey, he gratefully thanked him.)

Mary is buried with her husband and her three youngest sons in the Lincoln Tomb at Oak Ridge Cemetery, in Springfield, Illinois.

William Tecumsah Sherman

There are few American school children and certainly no attendees of military academies who have not heard of William Tecumseh Sherman's "march to the sea."

The general who would become famous—and infamous, in certain places—was born February 8th, 1820 in Lancaster, Ohio. He was one of eleven children. His father, Charles, was a successful and well-respected lawyer who sat on the Ohio Supreme Court—but passed away when Sherman was only nine. Left with all those children and no inheritance, Sherman's mother, Mary, was forced to scramble for help. William was raised by a friend and neighbor, Thomas Ewing—a man who served as the first Secretary of the Interior. It was Ewing who secured him an appointment at West Point when Sherman was sixteen. In 1840, he entered the U.S. Army as a second lieutenant. He saw action in the Second Seminole War—a time in which he wrote in letters about the terrible heat, mosquitos and misery of Florida. He also noted in his letters that he was glad of the experience with the Seminoles—as he believed learning to fight Indians would be of importance later in life.

He married the daughter of his benefactor, Eleanor. Unlike many of his fellow generals, he didn't fight in Mexico. In 1853, he resigned his military commission and became a bank manager. The bank folded and Sherman set his hand to law without much success. In 1859, he was offered a position as the first superintendent of the Louisiana State Seminary of Learning and Military academy in Pineville.

Oddly, this man who would become so famed for his exploits in the Civil War did not oppose slavery—he'd spent a great deal of time in the South, and within the social realm of many a wealthy plantation owner. What he did oppose was the dissolution of the Union.

In 1861—as more and more Southern states seceded—when he was asked to accept the surrender of arms to the Louisiana state militia, Sherman resigned. He would not, in any way, behave with hostility toward the United States of America. In May, he was commissioned as a colonel of the 13th U.S. Infantry Regiment. He was assigned to Kentucky—a border state. He was increasingly depressed, wound up having a breakdown and later admitted to thinking about suicide. By May he was put on leave, but, by December, he was back in action and his abilities as a commander became evident as the war progressed. He saw his first action at the Battle of Manassas, something that certainly stayed with him throughout the war years.

He wished for nothing more than to serve under Grant. In 1862 he was given a chance to do so. The Union commanders were unprepared for the Battle of Shiloh when it began on April 6th; Sherman's steadfast resolve and courage gave the Union an orderly retreat instead of a rout. During Grant's counter—attack on the following day, Sherman was injured in the hand and shoulder and had three horses shot from underneath him. He was promoted to a major general of the volunteers.

Grant and Sherman were of like minds; their careers within the war were joined. While Sherman sometimes considered Grant's military strategy not within his manual learning, he admired the general and listened to him. At Vicksburg, he performed extremely well. He went to Chattanooga—and then on to Atlanta.

Sherman believed that the South could only be beaten if it was psychologically trampled as well. The way to do that?—a scorched earth policy, which he demonstrated in his burning of Atlanta. His "march to the sea" brought him to Savannah, Georgia, in time to write to President Lincoln in 1864 that he had secured him the city of Savannah for Christmas. He went on to chase Confederate General Johnston throughout the Carolinas and would eventually accept surrender from him after Robert E. Lee's surrender to Grant. Believing in Lincoln's "malice toward none," he offered generous offers to those who surrendered. At the time, of course, no one knew that Lincoln would be assassinated and that many promises would not be kept.

After the war, Sherman would serve in the west. He was convinced that the repair and rebuilding of the American railroads was of utmost importance to the military and the country. In December of 1866, the Fetterman Massacre occurred—an instance in which the Sioux Indians and allies fought the U.S. military—and killed all eighty-one men in the U.S. forces. Sherman wanted the Indians stopped—he didn't want them to stand in the way of the railroads and he was willing to see them "exterminated" if they persisted in their violence. His views were often somewhat contradictory—he was also angry at the way government broke treaties. Sherman was in charge when George Armstrong Custer cut from the troops—and went on to his end at the Battle of the Little Big Horn.

In 1879, addressing the graduating class of the Michigan Military Academy, Sherman made a statement that carried on long after his death. "War," he said, "is hell."

Sherman retired from the army in February of 1884, after having stepped down as commanding officer five months earlier in November of 1883.

The man who decimated Atlanta and waged a furious war against Native American retired to New York—where he loved the theater. At dinners and out with friends, he was especially fond of quoting Shakespeare.

He died on February 14th, 1891, at the age of seventy-one in New York City.

All national flags were flown at half-mast.

A first service was held for him in New York. Ironically, one-time Confederate general Joseph E. Johnston—whom he had fought against throughout several states in the South—was one of his pallbearers in New York. Friends worried about the aging Johnston and wanted him to bundle up and wear his hat. Johnston would not—he felt that if the situation were reversed, Sherman would have done him the honor of doffing his hat.

There was bitter weather. Johnston did catch a cold—and his cold turned into pneumonia. He died about a month later.

Sherman's body then went on to St. Louis. One of his eight children, a son, had become a Jesuit priest, and he presided over his father's funeral mass when he was given another service in St. Louis, where he would be buried. He is buried there at Cavalry Cemetery.

His family life—when he could be a family man—was good. Even during the war, he was in constant correspondence with his wife. He wrote her of his worries, and his frustrations. His beloved Ellen died in 1888, three years before his own passing. With her, he had endured the loss of one child at the age of nine, and another child at the tender age of six months—and that in 1864 while the war raged on. He was reputed to be a good and caring father and a loving husband.

Sherman's legacy is as conflicted as the Civil War. For years, this Shakespeare-quoting historical personage was considered a devil in the South. But to the Union—united despite the great divide—he was a hero. To this day, his tactics and military maneuvers are studied in military schools—in the North, and in the South.

SOME WORE GRAY

Belle Boyd

La Belle Rebelle

An audacious spirit seems to have guided this young Southern spy. Born Isabella Marie Boyd in Martinsburg, then part of the state of Virginia and now West Virginia, Belle would tell any audience that she had a charmed young life and that she was something of a tomboy as a child. But she was well educated, and at sixteen was a debutante. Her family did have important ties, but her father was certainly not the richest among them. However, he was apparently a loving parent and he cared for his children. Belle was also known for her exuberance and could make any story better, even that of her life as a child. She was strong willed, but came from a family with a proud Revolutionary heritage, and her pride and spirit helped see her through life.

Belle was born in 1844 and was still very young when the war broke out; this didn't stop her from immediately beginning to spy, and with tremendous style. Her father had joined the Virginia cavalry and would ride with the Stonewall Brigade. Belle was home with her mother, grandmother, and younger siblings, watching out for everyone while her father was away, being a soldier. It quickly became apparent to her that from her family's hotel in Martinsburg, she could overhear many conversations going on between Union men and officers.

Vivacious and outgoing, she treated her work as an adventure. She managed, throughout the war, to charm friends and enemies alike, and if she was called to task by Southern matrons for riding alone and flirting with the enemy, she could—if she bothered to do so—defend herself. A spy did what was necessary.

Belle tended to Southern men in the military hospital near her home, and when it was taken over by Union officers, she shamed them into realizing that they shouldn't lord their occupation over men in beds, swaddled in bandages, many about to die.

Her career as a spy began on July 4th, 1861, when Union soldiers came to her home. They had heard that she had a room literally covered with Confederate flags, so they had come to replace the Confederate flag that hung from her house with a Union flag. Belle was angry, but when one of the soldiers cursed and pushed her mother, she pulled out a pistol and shot the man. Somehow, she was exonerated. Among the soldiers present at the time was Captain Daniel Kelly, whom Belle charmed into revealing military secrets to her. She tried to send these secrets out with a slave in an empty watchcase; she was caught, but given a stern warning that she might have been hanged. She was so able to charm and appear naïve and innocent before soldiers—who did not expect intelligence or violence from a young woman—that she was easily able to wrangle herself out of difficult situations. The soldiers often treated her more as a beautiful child, and she was quick to take advantage of their dismissal.

In 1862, while hiding in a closet, Belle heard that the Union would be sending men out—and that the area would be weakened. She rushed through fire (bullets actually passed through her skirts) to inform Stonewall Jackson that the Union forces at Front Royal had lowered their strength, and that the general should take the town. He did. Jackson was grateful to Belle, and held her in high esteem. Jackson actually made her a captain, and an honorary aide-de-camp.

Belle, like Rose Greenhow, was destined to become a prisoner at the Old Capitol Prison in Washington D.C. She was admired by her captors there, and gave hope to other prisoners. She would say later that coming to Old Capitol was one time in her life when she was truly scared. Those who saw her heading on her train to prison were to report, however, that she didn't betray that fear. She sang Dixie at the top of her lungs as she traveled, as she was also known to do when she was held prisoner at Old Capitol Prison.

Perhaps her greatest act of charm and daring was to seduce a Union ensign, Samuel Hardinge, who had been commanded to sail the Federal ship Greyhound after she was captured en route to England. Hardinge let Belle and the captain of the ship go. She sailed on to Canada, and then England. Samuel Hardinge was truly in love. For his act, he was probably lucky that all he faced was a court-martial. Samuel didn't care; he was in love. Discharged from the Union navy, he hurried to catch up with Belle, and he married her in England in 1864. When he returned to the states, urged by his wife to become a spy as well, he was captured. While it was a love match, Hardinge would become ill in prison, and die soon after he was released. During the war, Belle also lost her beloved father as sickness claimed him as well. When the war ended, she was a widow with one small child to support. Destitute, she wrote her memoirs, Belle Boyd in Camp and in Prison.

Irrepressible, poised, and admired by both sides, she would never forego her passion for Virginia, and her Martinsburg home, even when the new state of "West Virginia" was created during the war. (West Virginia seceded from Virginia and officially became one of two states—along with Nevada—to gain statehood and join the Union during the Civil War years.) But she wrote her memoirs and remained in England for several years after her husband's death.

Belle grieved for her husband, but ever a survivor, she went on to make her English stage debut in Manchester in 1866, performing in The Lady of Lyons. Finally, she returned to the states and made a grand tour of the South, appearing, speaking, and telling her story, sometimes billed as The Siren of the Shenandoah, and sometimes as The Cleopatra of Secession.

Belle appeared in New York in the play The Honeymoon; despite her exploits, or perhaps because of them, she was given tremendous attention and she well and truly enjoyed life as an actress. She was to continue performing in either theatrical events or as a storyteller, speaking about her many exploits, for the remainder of her years when she needed to support herself. She married twice more. In 1869, she married English businessman John Hammond with whom she had three more children, but that marriage ended in divorce in 1884. Once again, in 1885, she married, this time a young actor from Ohio named Nathaniel High, Jr.

No matter what life handed her, Belle was ready to meet any challenge.

It was while doing what she loved best, touring and telling her tale, that she was stricken with a heart attack. At the time, she was in Wisconsin, and she died there on June 11th, 1900.

Ironically, the darling of the Confederacy ended her life in the North, and was buried there, far from home.

Jefferson Davis

Father of the Confederacy

Jefferson Davis, the one and only man ever to become president of the Confederate States of America, spent far more time serving the United States government than he did with the newly formed and ill-fated Confederacy. Before the war—like many other men who would become famous for their roles on the Southern side— Jefferson served the United States government in political and military arenas. Ironically, much of the U.S. Army's strength was due to Davis's time as Secretary of War under Franklin Pierce.

Davis was born June 13th, 1808 in Christian County, Kentucky, youngest in a family of ten children. His father had fought with the Continental Army during the Revolution, and three of his older brothers served during the War of 1812.

He spent most of his formative years in the south, moving from Kentucky to Louisiana and on to Mississippi. He went to West Point, and after graduation served beneath—then—Colonel Zachary Taylor. He didn't fight in the Black Hawk War but was assigned by Taylor to bring Chief Black Hawk to prison. While Jefferson Davis is historically seen as being stern and standoffish, the chief liked him, and thought that Davis treated him kindly and with respect.

His association with Zachary Taylor would have a profound influence on his life; Sarah Knox Taylor and her family joined her father at Ft. Crawford in 1832, and there, she and Jefferson Davis fell in love. Zachary Taylor didn't approve; he didn't want his daughter to marry a military man. It was highly likely that was why Davis left the military and joined with his older brother to become a planter. Soon after, he and Sarah Taylor were married. Sadly, the marriage wasn't destined to last long, though Davis's love for Sarah was said to go far beyond the grave, and would occasionally create friction in his future marriage. Jefferson and Sarah came down with malaria while staying with Davis's oldest sister near St. Francisville, Louisiana, and just three months into the marriage, Sarah died.

Davis dealt with his grief by becoming reclusive—and working. He began the life of a planter, building his home and working the land on 900 acres given him by his brother, Joseph, and adjoining his brother's property. Davis had been born and raised to the plantation mindset in which white men were superior to black men, but ironically, he chose his first slave, James Pemberton, to be his overseer. When he began construction on Brierfield, James was his only slave. By 1845, he would have 75 slaves.

At his brother's house, Davis met his second wife, Varina Howell. Eighteen years her senior, he enjoyed her mind and her energy. They were married in February of 1845 and in November, he was elected to an at-large seat in the United States Congress.

When the Mexican-American War began, Davis resigned his congressional seat to become colonel of a militia he raised. He was noted for his intelligence and his bravery, teaching his men the use of the M1841 Mississippi rifle. His command was extremely successful. Wounded in the foot, he was rescued from the field. His one-time father-in-law, Zachary Taylor, was heard to say, "My daughter, sir, was a better judge of men than I was."

Jefferson Davis and his wife found living in Washington, D.C., to their liking. When he was appointed by the governor of Mississippi to finish out the senate term of the late James Speight, he was happy to return to public service and the capital. When that term expired, he was elected to serve in the same capacity by the Mississippi legislation. He was chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs. He campaigned for Franklin Pierce, and when Pierce was elected President, Davis was appointed Secretary of War. In that office, he worked hard to strengthen the armed forces of the United States, an effort that was destined to come back and haunt him in later years.

The Pierce administration ended in 1857 and the Buchannan administration began and Davis left office with his party. He again ran successfully for a senate seat.

While Davis felt strongly for States Rights, he would also speak out against secession. He spoke at Faneuil Hall in Boston, urging the preservation of the Union. No one knew with greater clarity than Davis that the Union would not easily let the South go, and more importantly, that the South had no military while he himself had shored the U.S. standing army from 11,000 to 15,000 men. He was well aware that manufacturing was in the North, and that the South had no ships and little in the way of military supplies. While he could be over-bearing and would make military mistakes, it was never without full knowledge of his opposition's strength.

Despite his heartfelt desire that the South not choose secession, when Mississippi seceded from the Union on January 9th, 1861, Davis, as many other men were to do, resigned his seat in the senate and returned home to find out what his next mission would be; he assumed he'd be leading men in the military, off to battle once again. But on February 9th, a constitutional convention took place in Montgomery, Alabama, and Davis was unanimously elected provisional President of the Confederate States of America.

As President, Jefferson Davis still worked for peace, offering to purchase Federal property on Confederate soil. Buchannan might have received the dispatches, but President Buchannan was eager to leave office—and the boiling cauldron of the country to his elected successor. As Lincoln, with his passionate determination to preserve the Union, arrived on the scene, both sides of the great chasm held their breath.

General P.T. Beauregard was given command of the troops at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, and ordered to accept the fort's surrender or take it by force. Union Major Anderson did not surrender, and the Civil War began with the shelling of the fort.

The state of Virginia joined the Confederacy and the government moved to Richmond. The Davis's took up residence at the White House of the Confederacy. Varina and Jeff Davis had six children. Their oldest son, Samuel, died as a toddler, long before his presidential years. A devastating blow came to the Davis family when little Joseph, five years old, fell off a balcony playing at the White House of the Confederacy in 1864. In strange and tragic irony, both presiding presidents in the divided country lost beloved sons during the war. Both understood loss, and sent sincere condolences to one another. (The other Davis children were Margaret-the only child to marry and have five children of her own—Jefferson Davis, Jr., who died at 21 from yellow fever, William who died of diphtheria at the age of 11, and Varina or "Winnie," who was born just months after Joseph's death and would become known as "the daughter of the Confederacy"). As Lincoln had before him, Davis held his dying child while dispatches continued to descend upon him from the front.

Davis had served in the military and as Secretary of War; he believed that the Confederacy's best possible route was to fight a strategically defensive war. His weakness sometimes lay in his promotion of friends to high-ranking military positions. His finest choice was when he appointed Robert E. Lee to replace Joseph Johnston (wounded) as commander of the Army of Northern Virginia. The two campaigns decided to bring the war to Northern soil—Antietam and Gettysburg—ended in disaster, and the war effort turned to defending the South again, where, eventually—as Davis's military mind had always warned him—Northern industrialism and sheer numbers would finally bring the Confederacy to a point of surrender.

When the war was essentially over with the surrender of Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia, Davis meant to bring his government down to the Carolinas. In various areas of the South, still standing armies had yet to lay down their guns. Plans were made to maintain the Confederate government, possibly taking it to Cuba. None of the plans made ever came to fruition. Upon hearing the news of Lee's surrender, Davis fled south; probably aware that any plans for maintaining the government were fruitless. Forty hours after his departure from Richmond, Abraham Lincoln sat at Davis's desk.

Davis was captured on May 10th, 1865. Because he had thrown on one of Varina's overcoats to escape the encroaching Union soldiers, he was lampooned as trying to escape disguised as a woman. He was held at Fortress Monroe and held in shackles for his first three days of imprisonment. After two years, he was released on $100,000 bail, raised by both Southerners and Northerners, Horace Greeley and Cornelius Vanderbilt of New York among them. The charge of treason against him was eventually dropped. Davis took on various work in the United States and Europe. While he was unpopular at first, his book, A Short History of the Confederate States of America, brought renewed loyalty from the South he had served.

Having settled at Beauvoir plantation in Biloxi, Davis was on a steamship headed to visit Brierfield when he fell ill. He left Brierfield; Varina had been on another ship headed for Brierfield and the two met on the river. On October 16th, 1989, they reached New Orleans. Jefferson Davis went to stay at the house of Charles Fenner. For a while, it seemed that he was getting better, but he went into a reversal and died there on Friday, December 6th. Despite the fact that he and Varina had been at odds at times due to their differences over his family's dictatorial intervention in their marriage and Varina's deep-seated fear that he had never ceased to love his first wife more, she was there with him, holding his hand, when he passed.

Davis, in his later years, firmly urged his one-time countrymen to be loyal to the Union. "United you are now," he said, "And if the Union is ever to be broken again, let the other side break it."

Davis was first entombed in Metairie Cemetery; in 1893, Varina decided that he should be disinterred, and brought to Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, considered to be the burying ground for the Confederacy. He rests there now with Varina at his side

Side note: According to his book, President Barack Obama, through his mother, can date his heritage back to the Davis family.

Varina Howell Davis

Queen Varina

Varina Howell Davis was the first and only First Lady of the Confederacy. Intelligent, beautiful and warm, she was often referred to as "Queen Varina" by her husband's generals and other contemporaries. Whereas Jefferson Davis might have been construed as strict, restrained—even cold—as he was more apt to keep his feelings to himself, Varina's personality was sweet and welcoming, and she was quick to offer empathy to those around her. During the war, she was sincerely liked by those who knew her, though sometimes hailed and sometimes criticized by the public and newspapers.

She was born Varina Howell at her family plantation, the Briars, in Natchez, Mississippi, on May 7th, 1826. Despite the fact that her father was to go through the family fortune, Varina was able to grow up at the Briars due to the largesse of her mother's family. She was aware, however, as she grew older, that she was dependent upon those relatives, and it was perhaps because of her situation that she learned generosity and kindness to all those around her. As a girl, she enjoyed the teaching of private tutors, common among privileged children of the plantation society. As the family fortunes somewhat improved, she was also able to attend Madame Greenland's finishing school in Philadelphia. She was just seventeen when she met the widowed Jeff Davis at the Hurricane, his brother Joseph Davis's plantation in Kentucky. She was to visit there for two months; when she left, she and Jefferson were engaged. Varina's mother, Margaret, was not pleased.

Jefferson Davis was eighteen years older than her daughter, and tended to be quiet and brooding, and she wasn't certain at all that it would be a good match for her effervescent daughter. Also, he was a widower, known for the profound love he had born his first wife, Sarah Knox Taylor. But Varina was in love, and eventually, her mother gave in. Their first wedding, a grand affair planned out at the Hurricane, was inexplicably called off, but Jefferson and Varina reconciled whatever their differences were and their marriage took place at her home, a quiet affair, on February 26, 1845.

Jefferson Davis was soon elected to serve in the United States House of Representatives, and the couple moved to Washington, D.C. Varina quickly fell in love with the city, and was one of the most sought-after guests on the social circuit. She was also considered to be one of the most gracious hostesses. But when Jefferson Davis was called upon to serve in the Mexican American War, she went back to live at Briarfield, the home provided them by Joseph Davis. Varina was not as happy here; her husband's family tended to be controlling, and as she and her husband were still dependent upon them (they also helped her family's situation) she seldom had much of a say. After the war, when Davis filled an empty senate seat, Varina took the opportunity to rejoin him. In Washington, she was once again happy. During the Pierce administration, Davis would serve as the Secretary of War—something that would later bring Varina to believe that the South should never secede from the Union. Through her husband, she was knowledgeable about the Union military. She had lived in the South and the North, and had many friends in both places.

Varina was another in the camp who never wanted war with the Union. She had friends and relatives on both sides. She remarked early on to her mother that she would go with the South and her husband, but feared that the war would be a fiasco. In 1862, she told her husband that if the North won, it would be because God had willed it so.

When war broke out, she assumed that her husband would be asked to be a general. She hadn't expected that he'd be nominated the President of the Confederacy. She was accustomed to compliments and devotion when the war began, and equally became accustomed to insults when the battles were lost, and the South slowly came to be defeated.

She bore six children, but had lost one before the war, and like her contemporary, Mary Lincoln, was devastated to lose a son during the war, through an accident at the White House of the Confederacy. Despite her own agony, she tried to be a bulwark of strength for her husband, who received dispatches even as he held his dying child. She was pregnant at the time, and a few months later, Varina "Winnie" Davis was born, her sixth child, and throughout her life, Winnie would be called "the daughter of the Confederacy." There is an exceptionally poignant story about Varina as she fled south from Richmond with her children in a terrible storm. Her escort tried to get her to rest upon the altar at a church, but Varina refused with a smile, telling them that she did not think it was a good time to tempt God.

Despite differences that rose between them from time to time (as her mother had warned, she sometimes feared that her husband's true love was the ghost of Sarah,) Varina was a devoted wife, constantly campaigning for her husband's release when he was imprisoned and indicted for treason. Eventually, the case was dropped and Davis was freed on bail, but hardships would follow the pair. The South had been devastated financially, and Davis would travel to Cuba, Canada and Europe working in different venues throughout the years. There were times when she and Jefferson would be apart for several months, and when Jefferson first went to Beauvoir plantation in Mississippi, Varina was greatly distressed with him; her letters intimate that she didn't find his relationship with the plantation's owner, Mrs. Sarah Dorsey, quite proper. Eventually, she would come to Beauvoir as well and become friends with Mrs. Dorsey, any of her fears having been unfounded. Their third son, William, died there not quite reaching the age of 11, and perhaps Mrs. Dorsey helped her through the grief.

Jefferson had been looking for a quiet place to retire and write, and Beauvoir in Biloxi seemed perfect to him. He made arrangements to buy the house, but soon after the first payment, Mrs. Dorsey died, and they discovered that the property had been willed to Jefferson Davis. They were joined there by their daughter Winnie when she finished her education, and thanks to Mrs. Dorsey, they would live decently, out of the financial straits that had plagued them so cruelly after the war.

They were living there when Jeff Davis took a steam trip up the river to check on his Kentucky holdings. On the way, he became ill. Varina had been planning on joining him on a later voyage and she met him on the river on the way back. They reached New Orleans where Jefferson would lay ill, rally, and then die in 1889. She held his hand as he died with a few other friends present.

Following his death, Varina returned to Beauvoir where she and Winnie lived, but she didn't stay long. She moved to New York City where she found work as a writer for New York World. Southerners criticized her for her move to the Northern city, but she replied that she needed to make a living. In New York, it was far easier for her to blend in with the crowd, and she loved the city, as she had loved Washington, D.C. She still spoke, and attended Southern veteran's affairs – North and South—as did Winnie. In time, she became great friends with Julia Dent Grant, the widow of the deceased Union general and president.

Winnie Davis died of a fever in 1898, a tremendous and devastating loss for Varina. She received condolences from around the country. In her final years, she continued to write and reside in New York, maintaining her memberships in the Daughters of the Revolution and the Daughters of the Confederacy.

In 1901, Varina met Booker T. Washington, the famed African-American leader, and the two exchanged a conversation, which might have had great bearing on her mind—in her youth, she had believed profoundly in the institution of slavery. Not long after meeting him, she stated in New York World that God, in his infinite wisdom, had allowed the North to prevail, finally giving the public the opinion she'd privately expressed forty years earlier.

Varina contracted pneumonia in October of 1906 and died on the 16th in her New York apartment

For her, the war she had thought wrong was finally truly over. She was buried with Jefferson Davis at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, Virginia.

Rose Greenhow

The Wild Rose

Rose O'Neal was born on October 14th, and though the exact year of her birth is often debated, she was born sometime between 1814 and 1817. She was born in Port Tobacco, Maryland, but was orphaned as a child. When she was still a young and impressionable teenager, she was invited to move to Washington, D.C., and live with her aunt who ran an exclusive boarding house, the Congressional Boarding House. As she matured, the political climate between the North and South grew ever more restive. In the city and beneath the tutelage of her aunt, she learned all the proper behavior of a young lady. Naturally, under the circumstances, she began to meet a round of people who would influence her life—and death.

She was considered a beautiful young woman, sharply intelligent, charming, and out-going, and though her demeanor was quite proper for a young woman of her age, her vitality and charm earned her the moniker Wild Rose. Her shimmering assets of charm and beauty would make her an exceptional spy in later years.

Washington had acquired an interesting society structure in those years, and she quickly became a part of it. The most elite grand dames of the city took to her, and welcomed her into their homes. She was courted by many men, but married Dr. Robert Greenhow, a quiet and unassuming man who was a historian and physician and worked for the U.S. State Department.

The two would have four daughters together, and their marriage was considered a happy one; Dr. Greenhow was an affable and intelligent man, and his passion for learning fit well with Rose's keen interest in the world around her.

The Greenhow home welcomed the most elite in society, including many a politician and military man. She became friends with presidents, soldiers, teachers, speakers, writers, and the most influential men and women of her era. Dolley Madison was one of her friends. Another of her closest associates was John C. Calhoun, and it was most probably Calhoun who filled her with a passion for the Southern cause. She enjoyed her home, her life, and her family, and was devastated when her husband died in 1854, soon after the birth of their fourth daughter, little Rose. She continued with her social life, opening a boarding house herself, and remaining close with powerful men and women as the nation teetered toward calamity. Rose would host parties for both those with a passion for secession, and those who were loyal to the Union. She would never deny her love for the South, but did so with honesty and sincerity. She regretted one outburst at a party when a guest sympathized with John Brown after his hanging. Rose professed her belief that John Brown had been a traitor and had deserved hanging. While she was open and honest about her beliefs, she worked hard to remain the perfect hostess; one, because of her breeding, and also because she wanted to maintain an atmosphere that would welcome both factions.

Rose was a widow when the war began, and her life was in her own hands. In 1861, she began an espionage ring; her deep sympathies for the Southern "Cause" made her yearn to help those she saw as her allies. A Virginia Lieutenant noted Rose's position, and suggested that she was extremely well situation to become a spy. She would later write, "I employed every capacity with which God has endowed me, and the result was far more successful than my hopes could have flattered me to expect."

Because of her position in society, it was easy for her to hobnob with generals in the know, and she used her associations to the greatest advantage possible. Southern President Jefferson Davis would credit her with the South's victory at the battle of Manassas, or the first Bull Run. She was able to get information about Northern troop movements to General P. G. T. Beauregard. Once forewarned, the general seized upon the advantage.

Allen Pinkerton, admired by Lincoln and brought in by the Union to prevent spy rings, noted that Rose could do what few men could ever accomplish. Those whom she charmed into giving secrets, never wanted to admit what she might have learned from them.

Still, by August, she was suspected of espionage, and sent to Old Capital Prison in the city. Even then she would stay by her window, and use light and movement to get information to fellow spies even then; one friend was said to have left her with information secreted into her hair bun.

She was brought to trial in 1862, and deported to Richmond, where she was treated as a beloved heroine of the Confederacy.

One of her greatest admirers, Confederate President Jefferson Davis, sent her to Europe as a courier and unofficial diplomat, where again, her charm stood her well. She was received by Queen Victoria and Napoleon III, and received tremendous sympathy for the Southern cause abroad. She wrote her memoirs while in Europe; a book entitled My Imprisonment and the First Year of Abolition Rule at Washington. She collected a nice sum for her effort. In 1864, Jefferson Davis recalled her to the Confederacy. When she sailed home, she carried important dispatches—and nearly $2,000.00 dollars in gold, much of it earned from her well-received book.

Rose sailed home aboard the blockade-runner Condor. The ship reached the mouth of Cape Fear River and was almost to Wilmington, North Carolina when a Union ship spied her and came after her, forcing the Condor to ground on a sandbar. Rose, fearing capture and the loss of the gold and the messages, left the ship in a lifeboat with two companions. The seas were rough and the boat overturned. Dragged down by the weight of the precious gold Rose carried, she drowned. Her body was first found by a Confederate soldier who took the gold and pushed the body back into the water, however, later, when her identity was discovered, the soldier returned the gold. It was said that all of the South mourned the death of their Wild Rose.

Robert E Lee

The Greatest American General

Robert E. Lee was Abraham Lincoln's first choice for a military man to lead the Northern troops into battle. But, in a letter to his sister, Lee stated that despite his loyalty as an American citizen and his devotion to the Union, he could not take up arms against his friends and relatives in his native Virginia; he, like many men of his day, believed that his first loyalty was owed to his home state.

The son of "Lighthorse Harry," Lee was born on January 19th in 1807. His father had been not just a Revolutionary War hero, but he had also served as the ninth governor of Virginia and as the Virginia representative to the United States Congress. Though his father had fallen into debt and disgrace and died while Robert E. Lee was still quite young, he would later write a biopic defending him.

Robert E. Lee was born at Stratford Hall Plantation in Westmoreland County, but due to the circumstances of his father's debt and then death, his mother was often dependent on the goodness of their relatives. But, growing up in the beauty of the countryside and as the descendent of Revolutionary heroes, Robert E. Lee developed a deep love and loyalty to his native state.

William Henry Fitzhugh, Lee's uncle, arranged for him to attend West Point. Fitzhugh drew upon the family name and reputation to secure his nephew a place at the prestigious academy. The letter he wrote to the commander was hand-delivered by Lee, and he entered the academy in 1825.

Lee served beneath General Winfield Scott during the Mexican-American War. There, he met Ulysses Grant. Both would gain experience during battle, with Grant serving as a quartermaster and Lee serving as an engineer.

In 1859, Robert E. Lee was called upon by President James Buchanan to lead a force of marines into Harpers Ferry to put an end to John Brown's raid there. Ironically, along with him on this mission and assigned to attempt a truce, was J.E.B. Stuart, soon to become one of Lee's most stalwart and daring cavalry commanders. (Despite an illness that threatened to blind him in one eye, Jefferson Davis, soon to be President of the Confederate States of America, was in the United States Senate at the time, advocating against secession. Lee was also vocal and passionate in his determination against secession.)

When Lee first returned home from the academy, he began to court Mary Custis, daughter of George Washington Custis and great-granddaughter of Martha Washington. In 1831 they were married at Arlington House, the home Mary's grandfather had built in memory of and to honor George Washington. The Lee's would eventually live there, and years later, it was said that Lee could be heard endlessly pacing the halls of the house after receiving the invitation to lead the Union forces; because of the proximity of the house to the capital, and the heights and strategic location, Lee knew that his family would have to desert their home when hostilities began.

Despite the sacrifices demanded of her, Mary Custis Lee remained loyal and honored her husband's decision. History, in turn, honors Mary for the tremendous sacrifice she made. (Mary was known to leave notes to whatever Union commander might take over a home she had been forced to vacate, pleading that they remember that pictures and other artifacts had belonged to the Father of the Country.)

The Lees would have seven children, three of whom would serve as officers in the Confederate cause. The Lees, like the Davis and Lincoln families, would lose a child during the war. Their daughter, Eleanor Agnes Lee, died of typhoid fever in 1862. All three of the fighting Lee sons would survive the war.

Lee took up command of Virginia forces on April 23rd, 1861. He would be ridiculed in the first years of the war for losses, and for building trenches around Richmond. In 1862, he became a military advisor to President Jefferson Davis, and when Joseph E. Johnston was wounded at the battle of Seven Pines, Lee was given command of the Army of Northern Virginia. During the Seven Days battle, when Lee's defenses (despite floundering by some of his commanders) sent the Army of Potomac into retreat, Lee gained the respect of his Southern countrymen, and became known as "Marse Robert," with all due affection. Lee went on to many brilliant victories, earning the admiration of the military North and South. At Gettysburg, however, minus Stonewall Jackson and some much needed information, as Stuart's cavalry floundered around the battle lines, Lee met a terrible defeat.

It has been said that he wept after Pickett's charge, horrified by the loss of life.

It has been recorded that he deeply felt the loss of so many men, and perhaps this stayed with him to Appomattox Courthouse, where he would eventually surrender the Army of Northern Virginia, April 9th, 1865. He gave a farewell speech to his troops, begging that they not take part in guerilla warfare that would prolong the war, but rather that they embrace the abolition of slavery and look to the future.

At the war's end, Lee dedicated himself to the reconstitution of the United States. He served as president of Washington College (now Washington and Lee University) until his death, October 12th, 1870, due to complications following a stroke.

Arlington House was never returned to his family; Union leaders, angry that he had left his command with the United States, ordered that soldiers be buried on the grounds, and thus the property eventually became Arlington National Cemetery. In 1883, recompense was given to the family.

He is remembered for his brilliant military strategy, and for his determination to see that the North and South were reconciled following the war. While he was a Southerner who had long questioned the validity of slavery and deplored secession, it was sadly his brilliance as a military commander that helped to prolong the war.

James Ewell Brown Stuart

Jeb

Dashing, larger than life, Jeb Stuart was often considered to be the knight in shining armor of the Confederacy. He was an excellent horseman who could ride around enemy lines with the speed of the wind. Lee was to say after Stuart's death that Stuart had never given him a bad piece of information, and he wept at the death of his good friend. His personality was as vibrant as the plumed hat he chose to wear.

As was the case with so many notable figures during the Civil War, Stuart would know the pain and bitterness of having much loved family members on the opposite side. In Stuart's case, he would write to his brother-in-law, Confederate Brigadier General J. R. Cooke, of his father-in-law and his decision to remain with the Union, "He will regret it but once, and that will be continuously." Stuart was so distressed by his father-in-law's decision that he renamed his son after himself, rather than letting him keep his father-in-law's name.

Like many of his contemporaries, Jeb Stuart was born into a family with an illustrious background of Patriotic heroes. He was born at Laurel Hill Farm in Patrick County, Virginia, on February 6th, 1833. His grandfather had commanded a regiment during the American Revolution and his father was a Veteran of the War of 1812. He received his appointment to West Point in 1850 through Thomas Averett, a man who had been his father's political appointment—a few years after trying to join the army but being rejected for being underage. Stuart was immediately popular with his classmates, even though they liked to tease him for having a small chin. The called him "Beauty," and continued to tease him after he grew a beard, saying that he was the only man that a beard truly improved. Stuart seemed to have a pleasant sense of humor about himself, and didn't mind the teasing, getting on well with all those around him.

Robert E. Lee came in as superintendent of the academy in 1852, and he and Stuart would become friends, seeing each other socially as well as at West Point; Lee's son was there at the time, as well as his nephew, Fitzhugh Lee, and the three were of a close age.

West Point would begin a relationship that would be important to Stuart throughout his life; he had tremendous respect for Robert E. Lee, and a great affection for him.

Stuart did well at the academy, but did better with maneuvers than mathematics. Even at West Point, he was noted for his cavalry skills. Upon graduation, he was commissioned as a second brevet lieutenant, and was assigned to the U.S. Mounted Rifles in Texas, but was soon sent to the 1st Cavalry Regiment at Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas Territory. His time there, watching as the region was ripped apart by those in favor of abolition and those who were not, would strengthen his own belief in the Southern Cause.

In 1855, he was promoted to 1st lieutenant. It was an exceptional year for him as he also met Flora Cooke, the daughter of Lieutenant Colonel Philip St. George Cooke.

The two were quickly a couple, and engaged. Continuing with his sense of humor, Stuart would write of their swift Romance in Latin—Veni, Vidi, Victus Sum, in contrast to Veni, Vedi, Vici. He came, he saw, he was conquered, rather than he conquered. While they had wanted one, the death of Stuart's father prevented the two from having a large wedding, and they were married with just a few relatives and close friends present. 1857 saw the birth of their daughter, Flora.

Stuart invented a special hook to attach a saber to a saddle. He had his hook patented, and was working in Washington on contracts with the government when he heard about the raid at the United States Arsenal at Harpers Ferry. He volunteered to attend the situation as aide-de-camp for his friend, Robert E. Lee. Stuart led the troops as they tried to negotiate at the firehouse. John Brown had been using the name Smith, but Stuart recognized him from his days in Kansas, and demanded his surrender. Brown refused. Brown's son was killed in the raid and he was wounded himself, but captured by the army members on site to be taken to trial. While the law clearly stated that Brown had been guilty of murder and treason, his execution would become a battle cry that incited the Northern abolitionists.

1860 brought the birth of Flora and Jeb's son. The boy was named Philip after his grandfather, but he was destined to be renamed within a very short time.

When Virginia seceded, Stuart was quick to resign his commission with the Union. He was passionately for Virginia, and the "Cause." He quickly became invaluable to the Confederacy, leading cavalry at the battle of 1st Bull Run (Manassas) and throughout most of the major Eastern battles of the war. His service was considered some of the most diligent and important, and he was known as the "eyes and ears" of the Eastern front. He circled the Union command, and made raids that captured dispatches and plans.

Naturally, this made him the shining knight; he was a romantic and dashing figure, and this drew tremendous female adoration. He received letters, pictures, and tokens from Southern women, which did disturb his wife, Flora. But, though he was known to engage in a flirtation, he was loyal to Flora, and told her that he always had her picture next to his heart, though he did not need it there to see her face before him at all times.

In 1862, their precious little daughter, Flora, died. The loss was a tremendous blow to both Stuarts. Virginia Pelham Stuart was born in 1863, and the couple would rejoice at her birth; Stuart assured Flora by telling her that she looked a great deal like the beloved daughter they had lost.

Stuart was exceptionally fond and admiring of Stonewall Jackson, despite the fact that they were so different in their personalities. Jackson was religious, somber, and plain, while Stuart was extravagant in his dress and manner. But Stuart, soldiers reported, was the only man who could really make Jackson laugh. Stuart was always loyal to his wife, didn't smoke, and didn't drink. When Stonewall Jackson was lost—mortally wounded by friendly fire—Stuart felt his death keenly, and wrote to his widow, who wrote in return in what high esteem he had been held by her husband.

With Jackson gone, the Confederacy suffered a major blow. The lack of communications that caused a great deal of Confederate defeat at Gettysburg was considered a result of Jackson's loss—and a failure by both Longstreet and Stuart to manage the battle. Having received what he considered ambiguous orders, Stuart didn't arrive on the scene until the second day, and for once, Lee was known to have been cool to him, though the general's exact words to Stuart are not known.

As the battles ensued, moving back to Virginia soil, Stuart again served with all his dashing style, routing the Union many times.

The Army of the Potomac's Cavalry Corp clashed with Fitzhugh Lee's command of his division of the Army of Northern Virginia on May 11th, 1864, at a place called Yellow Tavern, just north of the Confederate capital of Richmond. Stuart rode forward, rallying troops and holding ground. While retreating, a Union soldier took aim at Stuart and shot him in the stomach. Wounded, Stuart was brought to Richmond, to the home of his brother-in-law, Dr. Charles Brewer.

Telegraph wires were down and a messenger brought the news to Flora. She gathered her two surviving children and desperately tried to reach her husband's side. The road was hard, train tracks destroyed, and the messages she received along the way filled her, alternately, with hope and despair.

Jefferson Davis visited the bedside of the dying cavalry commander.

Flora did not reach him in time.

Stuart died of his wound on May 12th, 1864. He was only 31, and died as a hero of the Confederacy, forever remembered as young, gallant, brave, and beautiful —a knight in shining armor.

Flora would outlive him by nearly sixty years; she would never remarry.

Scarlett O'Hara

Yes, Scarlett is fictional. She was created by Margaret Mitchell.

How much of Margaret Mitchell went into her fictional heroine, Scarlett? (Scarlett was originally named Pansy—the name was changed right before publication!)

Mitchell was born November 8th, 1900, a woman ahead of her time. History can seem to go by in a blink, and it can also pass slowly. In 1900, many veterans from both sides remained alive, as did their wives and children.

Margaret Mitchell, as a child from Atlanta, spent hours hearing the stories of old soldiers, of those who had survived the burning of Atlanta—and stories from those who had been slaves. While the Reconstruction Era officially ended before her birth, Margaret was a child during a turbulent time when women's suffragettes were active, and the South was not yet at a time when desegregation laws could put an end to a war that was still being fought in the minds of many.

She was one of the first female columnists for the Atlantic Journal. Married first to Berrien Upshaw, she was divorced from him when he proved to be involved in illegal activities as well as being a frequent drunk with abusive tendencies. In 1925, she married John Marsh, ironically the best man at her first wedding. She would remain with John until her death.

Legend has it that she began work on her novel, Gone With the Wind, when she was laid up with a broken ankle. She didn't send it off to several publishers; she didn't send it off at all. Margaret agreed to show Macmillan editor Harold Latham around Atlanta for a friend. The two hit it off, and Latham apparently asked her if she'd ever written a book. Margaret told him that she hadn't, but later, when friends laughed about the request, Margaret brought her manuscript to Latham. She was so shy about the writing that she quickly sent him a letter, telling him that she had changed her mind. But Latham had begun to read the giant missive that would one day become Gone With the Wind, and the seasoned editor knew that he had a hit on his hands. He spoke to her, encouraging her. There was more work to be done on the manuscript—it's encouraging for writers to know that she hadn't decided on her first chapter yet! It was in March of 1936 that she gave Latham her finished version of the manuscript, and the esteemed editor then held a work destined for greatness in his hands.

The book was published on June 30th, 1936.

Reviews were glowing. In 1937, Margaret Mitchell won the Pulitzer Prize for her novel. It was such a success that Macmillan employees received a substantial bonus.

The film adaption was released in 1939—and won, for the time, a record number of Oscars—ten.

Vivien Leigh, an Englishwoman, was cast as Scarlett O'Hara, a decision that caused scathing arguments during the making of the film. Southern women were horrified, thinking that Scarlett, the epitome of Southern strength despite her many problems and emotion-driven mistakes, should be a Southerner. Dozens of actresses, many famous at the time, were considered for the role and desperately wanted the role. Vivien Leigh's screen test cemented her vision as the ultimate Scarlett, and despite any argument, she was cast.

Clark Gable would find equal fame as Rhett, while Leslie Howard would be cast as the long-suffering Ashley Wilkes, and Olivia de Havilland would play Melanie Hampton Wilkes.

Scarlett's character was an extreme tribute to many women who lived during the Civil War. While the women of the plantation class had always had the responsibility of child rearing and running their massive households, they'd also had slave labor. The war brought about a change that was devastating to many women in their day to day lives; they had not only to contend with the fact that their men were going to war and dying in droves on a daily basis, but as the war progressed, they were left more and more to survive on their own. Poverty came crashing down on many after the war, and they were left with children, wounded loves ones, and a new world in which to survive or perish.

Scarlett was a manipulative woman and her motives were not always the best; she was in love with Ashley, and, sadly, as the story goes, realizes far too late that she spent years in love with and longing for a man who derived his own strength from another woman. To Ashley Wilkes, the object of her obsession, she was nothing more than a fantasy, one he didn't want to see fulfilled. Despite the fact that she was capable of being selfish and longing for her own desires to be fulfilled, Scarlett was a woman with the strength to come to the fore when she was needed; she would what needed to be done to survive, and behaved admirably when forced to be midwife for the birth of Melanie's child—even though it was Melanie's husband she coveted. She also found the strength to keep her beloved plantation Tara from the Carpetbaggers, and to save her family from the burning of Atlanta. When Margaret Mitchell's story ends, Scarlett is still in her twenties—a sad age, according to Rhett, to have lost her soul. Rhett leaves her, but Scarlett is undaunted, certain she will get him back. "Tomorrow is another day!"

Scarlett lives on in literary history. To many, she is real—flesh and blood, capable of horrible mistakes, and equally capable of heroic strength when necessary. She can be torn by emotion and yet rise to greatness. Like living, breathing heroines, she is a mixture of qualities.

