Joseph J. Baker of the 54th Virginia Infantry (CSA)
Company K

2 October 1863,

”We are within two miles of Chattanooga, had hard times for more than a month, left London last of August till we got into Georgia, We found Rosa [Rosecrans], who trifled with us till the 19th of September, then he met us and a very hard battle took place on Saturday…We drove them a short distance on Sunday and again on Sunday evening from his strongest position upon a mountain, he then fell back to Chattanoo to his fortifications and we followed him but cannot get him rousted any more, he is strongly fortified, we are fortifying within 2 miles of this place, and laying behind our works, Yanks did shell us occasionally. It was a severe fight, a great many were killed on both sides. I saw a great many brave men left to breathe there last on that battlefield, the loss of our brigade was in killed and wounded between 300-400 men, loss of regiment was about 60 killed and wounded. The Co. K. had 6 wounded and only three badly wounded. None of the Wythe boys were hurt. Capt. William Nelson was slightly wounded by accident after the fight was over. Felt several times that chances were bad for them to escape, but more escaped than looked possible, enemy played on us with canister and grape shot only a few hundred yards. We fell to the ground as flat as possible until the battery was silenced by one of ours. We raised them from their strongest hold with a small loss and captured 440 prisoners, many of them got away, our regiment captured 3-4 stands of colors, they were the best armed men I have ever seen, they shot 5 times faster than us, more content about their six shooters…”

Forgive me for being late with thoughts about Emily Dickinson poetry and Thanksgiving. Usually, the poet’s response to recurring events like holidays and memorials is muted and atypical. I find this to be especially true of religious observances. Nonetheless, in “Gratitude – is not the mention” there is respect and significance noted for the impulse to express thanks. Unlike some other “teaching poems” this one is rather gentle.

Gratitude – is not the mention
Of a Tenderness,
But its still appreciation
Out of Plumb of Speech.

When the Sea return no Answer
By the Line and Lead
Proves it there’s no Sea, or rather
A remoter Bed?

This poem seems especially sensitive to gratitude that is strong and fundamental, if not particularly noticeable. I find, “still appreciation” a rhetorical way to acknowledge a sound, honest relationship so rooted in trust and mutual appreciation, few words are needed any more. Like marriage after several decades, or a friendship that has stood the test of time.

It is not clear whether the first stanza and “the mention/Of a Tenderness,” refers to my tender expression of thank you, or of someone else’s tenderness that deserves my mention. The phrase “…Plumb of Speech” as a metaphor for the limitation and the measurement between two points, is, in this case, between what I’ll refer to as my voice and another’s ear.

Just as I, when a little girl, liked to watch my neighbors or relatives when they puttered with home projects, teaching me what a plumb line was, I imagine the poet watching as servants and construction crews worked at the homestead. It was a tiny farm with animals, crops and constant growth to the barn, the house and peripheral buildings. Unlike me, Dickinson studied the uses of the plumb line and adapted it poetically.

Then, “..line and lead” compared to the vastness of “..the Sea (that) return no Answer” suggests the puny improbability of a truly accurate statement of thanks in a relationship between humans and God, a child and adult, anyone and the myriad gift-givers a life encounters.

Silence, or nearly so, does not mean there is not gratitude, ”When the Sea return no Answer”.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consiousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom.

No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy.

It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the Unites States the Eighty-eighth.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

William H. Seward,

A Happy Thanksgiving to all from the McClarey Clan!  Go here to read a superb post by my friend Jay Anderson at Pro Ecclesia on the history of Thanksgiving.

A Bouquet of Thankfulness

JESUS my Lord and Savior -Anastasia Diamond

As our nation prepares for Thanksgiving 2009, let us look back to the foundation of the decree that established this day to thank, praise and acknowledge God for His abundant blessings.

In 1863, prominent magazine editor of her time, Sarah Josepha Hale wrote a letter urging President Abraham Lincoln to establish a national day of Thanksgiving and Praise.

President Abraham Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Proclamation

Washington, DC—October 3, 1863

The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added which are of so extraordinary a nature that they can not fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever-watchful providence of Almighty God.

In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign states to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere, except in the theater of military conflict, while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union.

Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plow, the shuttle, or the ship; the ax has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well as the iron and coal as of our precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege, and the battlefield, and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy.

It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next as a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the imposition of the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it, as soon as may be consistent with the divine purpose, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity, and union.

In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the city of Washington, this 3d day of October, A.D. 1863, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty-eighth.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

William H. Seward,
Secretary of State

Abraham Lincoln gave the Gettysburg Address…

Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, concieved in Liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

This song was written in 1863… it declares some powerful truths that are unending.  I love songs that tell God’s salvation story.  My church sang this on Sunday, and it spoke  just as powerfully as it must have for the last 146 years: (check out the Shane & Shane version at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8dlg5yBywo&feature=related)

Before the Throne of God Above– Charitie L. Bancroft

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea,
A great high Priest whose Name is Love,
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart,
No tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free,
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me,
To look on Him and pardon me.

Behold Him there, the risen Lamb,
My perfect, spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace.
One with Himself, I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood.
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God!

I sit here typing in the downstairs lobby of ATS.  A friend just came by and, as we talked, she quoted this: “What, then, shall we say in response to this?  If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also,  along with Him, graciously give us all things?”  Amen, Sueihn.

Little Johnny Clem

Image above can be found on Find-A-Grave (posted by Grave Tagr,) along with a biographical sketch and pictures of his gravestone.

The Youngest Soldier in the Army of the Cumberland.

Last evening, at the Caledonia supper, Gen. Rosecrans exhibited the photograph of a boy, who, he said, was the youngest soldier in the army of the Cumberland. — His name is Johnny Clem, twelve years of age, a member of company C, 22d, Michigan infantry. His home is at Newark, Ohio. He first attracted Rosecrans’ attention during a review at Nashville, where he was acting as marker for his regiment. His extreme youth (he is quite small for his age) and intelligent appearance interested the general, and calling him out, he questioned him as to his name, age, regiment, &c. Gen. Rosecrans spoke encouragingly to the young soldier and told him to come and see him whenever he came where he was.

He saw no more of Clem until Saturday last, when he went to his place of residence — the Burnett House — and found Johnny Clem sitting on his sofa, waiting to see him. Johnny had experienced some of the vicissitudes of war since they last met. He had been captured by Wheeler’s cavalry, near Bridgeport. His captors took him to Wheeler, who saluted him with –

“What are you doing here, you d—-d little Yankee acoundrel?”

Said Johnny Clem, stoutly — “General Wheeler, I am no more a d—–d scoundrel than you are, sir.”

Johnny said that the rebels stole about all that he had, including his pocket book, which contained only twenty-five cents.

“But I would not have cared for the rest,” he added, “if they hadn’t stole my hat, which had three bullet holes in it, received at Chickamauga.”

He was finally paroled and sent north. On Saturday he was on his way to camp Chase to join his regiment, having been exchanged. Gen. Rosecrans observed that the young soldier had chevrons on his arm, and asked the meaning of it. He said he was promoted to a corporal for shooting a rebel colonel at Chickamauga.

The colonel was mounted, and stopped Johnny on the fied, crying “stop you little Yankee devil.” Johnny halted bringing his Austrian rifle to an “order,” thus throwing the colonel off his guard, cocked his piece, (which he could easily do, being so short) and suddenly bringing it to his shoulder, fired, the colonel falling dead, with a bullet through his breast.

The little fellow told his story simply and modestly, and the general determined to honor his bravery. He gave him the badge of “roll of honor,” which Mrs. Saunders, the wife of the host of the Burnett House, sewed upon Johnny’s coat. His eyes glistened with pride as he looked upon his badge, and little Johnny seemed to have grown an inch or two taller, he stood so erect. He left his photograph with General Rosecrans, who exhibits it with pride. We may again hear from Johnny Clem, the youngest soldier in the Army of the Cumberland.

– Cincinnati Times.

The Daily Gazette (Janesville, Wisconsin) Dec 18, 1863

LITTLE JOHNNY CLEM.

Of course you remember the story of little Johnny Clem, the motherless atom of a drummer-boy, aged ten, who strayed away from Newark, Ohio; and the first we knew of him, though small enough to live in a drum, was beating the long roll for the 22d Michigan. At Chickamauga he filled the office of “marker,” carrying the guidon whereby they form the lines; a duty having its counterpart in the surveyor’s more peaceful calling, in the flagman who flutters the red signal along the metes and bounds. On the Sunday of the battle, the little fellow’s occupation gone, he picked up a gun that had fallen from some dying hand, provided himself with amunition, and began putting in the periods quite on his own account, blazing away close to the ground, like a fire-fly in the grass. Late in the waning day, the waif left almost alone in the whirl of battle, a rebel colonel dashed up, and looking down at him, ordered him to surrender.

“Surrender!” he shouted, “You little d—-d son of a —–!”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Johnny brought his piece to “order arms,” and as his hand slipped down to the hammer, he pressed it back, swung up the gun to the position of “charge bayonet,” and as the officer raising his sabre to strike the gun aside, the glancing barrel lifted into range, and the proud colonel tumbled from his horse, his lips fresh-stained with the syllable of vile reproach that he had flung on a mother’s grave in the hearing of her child! A few swift moment’s ticked on by musket shots, and the tiny gunner was swept up at a rebel swoop and borne away a prisoner. Soldiers, bigger but not better, were taken with him only to be washed back again by a surge of federal troopers, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem “of ours;” and Gen. Rosecrans made him segeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr. Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspired to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved.

Well, like Flora McFlimsy, the sergeant ‘had nothing to wear,’ the clothing in the wardrobe of loyal livary was not at all like Desdemonia’s handkerchief, “too little,” but like the garments of the man who roomed a month over a baker’s over, a “world too wide;” and so Miss Babcock of the sanitary commission, suggested that a uniform for the little orderly would be acceptable. Mr. Waite and other gentlemen of the “Sherman House” ordered it, Messrs. A.D. Titsworth & Co., made it, Chaplain Raymond brought it, Miss Babcock presented it, and Johnny put it on. Chaplain Raymond, of the 51st Illinois — by the by, a most earnest and efficient officer — accompanied the gift with exceedingly appropriate suggestions and advice. I happened at headquarters just as the belted and armed sergeant was booted and spurred, and ready to ride. Resplendent in his elegant uniform, rigged cap-a-pie, modest, frank, with a clear and a manly face, he looked more like a fancy picture than a living thing. Said he to the chaplain; “you captured me by surprise yesterday.” Now, he is “going on” thirteen, as our grandmothers used to say; but he would be no monster if we called him only nine. Think of a sixty-three pound sergeant — fancy a handful of a hero, and then read the Arabian Nights, and believe them. Long live the little Orderly!

Rebellion Record.

CENTRALIA SENTINEL (Centralia, Marion Co., Illinois) Nov 16, 1865

THE BOY OF CHICKAMAUGA.

Little Johnny Clem’s Brave Work
(From the Cincinnati Gazette.)

There are but few persons who read the current events of the war for the Union as they were transpiring, who do not remembers, among the enduring record of brilliant achievements made by distinguished officers and the gallant rank and file of the army, the invincible spirit and soldierly qualities displayed by that remarkable child soldier known as “Little Johnny Clem, the drummer boy of Chickamauga.”

Various references from time to time respecting this infantile prodigy of the war have appeared in books and newspapers, yet all have failed to embody some of the most prominent incidents herein narrated connected with his army life. The “Rebellion Record,” by Frank Moore, and Lossing’s “History of the Civil War in America,” have each consigned to the pages of history the undaunted deed that has enrolled his name forever among the most gallant and devoted spirits that participated in the hard fought battle of Chickamauga, as well as other battles to the close of the war. Lossing speaks of little Clem as “probably the youngest person who ever bore arms in battle;” hence every incident connected with his entering the army, and while therein, possesses peculiar interest to those who watched the trembling balances of their country’s fate, and the valor of those to whose keeping they were confided.

John L. Clem, a motherless atom of a drummer boy, who might have been placed, in April, 1861, within a “regulation” drum, was born in Newark, Ohio, August 13, 1851, and in May, 1861, shortly after the war broke out, offered his infantile services as a drummer to Captain McDougal, of the 3d Ohio regiment, which was then passing through his native town, but on account of his size and tender age, not being yet ten years old, he was rejected, the regiment was on his way to the front, and having taken passage on the cars for Cincinnati, our little hero went down on the same train, where he offered himself to the 22d Michigan, who also declined to muster him in on account of his size and years, but owing to the persevering spirit with which he maintained his determination to follow the fortunes of his country upon the field, he was allowed to accompany the regiment in all its subsequent movements, until at length he was beating the “long roll” in front of Shiloh April, 1862, where his soldierly spirit so _on the confidence and admiration of the regiment that in June or July, 1862, he was enlisted at Covington, Ky., as a drummer, but serving afterward also as a marker.”

At Shiloh (known as Pittsburg Landing), his drum was smashed by a shell, which occurrence earned for him the appellation of “Johnny Shiloh,” as a title of distinction for the fearless manner in which he discharged his duty at that bloody battle; and at Chickamauga, of which we shall speak presently, that field of Thomas’ glory and renown, he received the title of “The Drummer Boy of Chickamauga,” under which he has already passed into story, where his name and title will live forever in connection with an act there performed by him, which for coolness and undaunted valor, is not equaled on the pages of ancient or modern warfare, in one so young, and which won for him the highest meed? of praise from Rosecrans and Thomas, and every other officer and man of the Army of the Cumberland.

Here little Johnny Clem, having just passed his twelfth year, exchanged the “long roll” of the drum for the “brisk fire” ___ the deadly musket; and on the 23d day of September, 1863, when the line of battle was about being formed, our little drummer boy, now acting as a “marker,” might have been seen with his trusty little musket, as it afterward proved — which had been shortened for his use — seated upon a __aisson side by side with artillerymen, going sto the front to form the line and face the coming storm of death in common with others. The line being formed, he now took his position in the ranks, and with his little musket began putting in the periods? quite on his own account, blazing away close to the ground like a firefly in the grass. At the close of hte day, when the army was retiring toward Chattanooga, the brigade to which little Johnny was attached was ordered to hold its position, but  ___ing afterward surrounded bythe rebels, demand for its surrender was made directly after its charge had been repulsed. When a rebel colonel rode up toward our little hero, who could not fall back as rapidly as the rest of the line, and made a special demand for him, exclaiming, “Halt! Surrender! you d–n little Yankee s-n of a b—h!” still coming with his sword drawn upon little Johnny, who had now brought his musket to an “order arms,” and in doing which he slipped his hand down the barrel and cocked it while at an “order,” when our little hero suddenly swung up his musket to the position of “charge bayonet” and fired! when lo! our little David brought down the proud Goliah! who fell from his saddle, his lips fresh stained with the reproachful epithet he had just flung upon a mother grave in the hearing of her child! Simultaneous with the performance of this brilliant deed the regiment to which little Johnny belonged was fired into by the surrounding rebels, when he fell as though he had been shot, and laid there until darkness closed in, when he arose and made his way to Chattanooga, after the rest of the army. Now, all history may be searched in vain for an instance of such forethought, courage and self-reliance as this. A reference to this most daring act in the papers of the day was the first intimation his family had received of his whereabouts during his two years’ absence and upward.

Lossing’s History speaks of him as having received three balls through his cap during the fortunes of the day at Chickamauga, which statement has since been full confirmed, only that they were received directly after he had shot the rebel colonel. For his undaunted valor and heroic conduct he was made a sergeant by Rosecrans, who placed him on the roll of honor and attached him to the headquarters of the Army of the Cumberland; and a daughter of Secretary Chase presented him with a silver medal inscribed, “Sergeant Johnny Clem, 22d Michigan Vol. Inf., from N.M.C.,” which he worthily wears as a priceless badge of honor upon his left breast, in connection with his grand army medal.

In a few days after little Johnny’s arrival at Chattanooga, our tiny gunner was captured with others, while detailed to aid in bringing up the supply train from Bridgeport, Alabama, and held in captivity for sixty-three days, during which time he was kept on the move until he was at length paroled down near Tallahassee, Florida, and sent to Camp Chase for exchange, which was not complied with.

Having captured this gallant little prize, the rebels despoiled him of the companionship of his little bullet torn cap, which he endeavored in vain to retain as a reminscence in the future of the perils through which he had passed, taking also from him his jacket and shoes. Upon reaching our lines, he found General Thomas in command of the Army of the Cumberland, who received him with the warmest enthusiasm and made him an orderly sergeant and attached him on his staff.

In addition to the battles of Shiloh and Chickamauga, he was at Perryville, Stone River (sometimes called Murfresboro), Resaca, Kenesaw, Peach Tree Creek, Atlanta, Nashville and others, where the Army of the Cumberland covered itself with so much glory.

Besides the three balls that passed thro’ his little cap at Chickamauga, he was struck once with a fragment of shell upon his hip and twice by balls. Upon one of the latter occasions, he was in the act of delivering a dispatch from General Thomas to General Logan at Atlanta, when a ball struck his little pony obliquely near the top of his head, killing him, and wounding his fearless little rider in the shoulder. He is held in the highest estimation by all the officers and men of the Army of the Cumberland, and General Thomas was his fast friend and correspondent up to the time of his death. He served until the end of the war, when he was honorably mustered out, and at once directed his attention to qualifying himself for a cadetship at West Point, to which he has been appointed a cadet at large by President Grant, upon the recommendation of Generals Thomas and Logan, and other officers of the Army of the Cumberland, in recognition of his gallant services. Owing, however, to the limited opportunities previously afforded him, he was rather unsuccessful in passing his examination last fall in one branch only, having had as fair a general average in the other branches as the majority of those who did pass; but he is now diligently prosecuting his studies during the spare time he is not employed at his desk in the Census office at Washington, with confidence in his ultimate success when again before the board. He is still small in size, very youthful in appearance, and a consistent member of one of our prominent religious denominations; and his pleasant address and modest deportment win the confidence of all with whom he is brought into intercourse.

Decatur Review (Decatur, Illinois) May 4, 1871

Image and an article can be found at Edrumline Crossing the Line

JOHNNY CLEM

Some Interesting Facts of the “Drummer Boy of the Chicamauga” — His Parentage — Career Curing and Since the Late War.

(Special Correspondence to the Dispatch)
NEWARK, July 20, 1880.

A person passing through the markets any Wednesday or Saturday, can see a medium-sized man, with straggling gray hairs and a face that plainly indicates the possessor’s German extraction, standing behind a rudely constructed bench loaded down with vegetables and garden truck. Through rains and storms this silent and seemingly contented German market tender has stood at his allotted market space. He lives and has lived, for the last twenty years, in a small and comfortable house, about a mile from this city, on the Granville road. This is the father of Johnny Clem, whom everybody in the Army of the Cumberland knew as “the drummer boy of Chickamauga.”

At the breaking out of the war, Johnny was struck with the martial music of the troops recruiting in this city, and ran away from home, going into the army as a drummer boy. Everybody is familiar with the history of this daring lad, who was petted by the officers and soldiers on all sides. During the war he became a favorite Orderly of General George H. Thomas, who, at the close of the war, assumed a sort of guardianship over him, and took a special interest in his welfare.

Johnny was sent to school at West Point, where he graduated, and soon afterwards entered the regular army and was stationed at Texas. Here he met General Brown’s daughter, and soon after married her. It was not long after his marriage that he was promoted and stationed at Fort Brown, Texas, where he still remains on duty.

Every summer he visits his aged parents and renews old acquaintances with his school-mates and companions. Johnny’s brother Louis, entered the regular army some few years ago, and, during an engagement on the Western frontier with the Indians, was massacred. The death of the brave boy weighed heavily on his aged father, and he frequently relates his sorrows to attentive listeners.

‘Pap’ Thomas frequently wrote to his protege, and a paragraph from one dated at Nashville, June 27, 1866, has special interest at the present time. The following is an exact:

“DEAR JOHNNIE — Do you remember the story of General Garfield’s life? He worked on a canal, and educated himself by buying his text book, which he studied at every leisure moment, while the canal was not frozen up. Now he is one of the most distinguished of our Representatives in Congress. He was also greatly distinguished as a soldier during the late war.”

Johnny Clem acquired a national reputation, as the youngest and smallest soldier in the Union army, as well as for gallant conduct.

The Marion Daily Star (Marion, Ohio) Jul 30, 1880

Image from http://auction.igavel.com

CAPTAIN JOHN CLEM

Incidents of His Early Life Recalled by a Meeting with Mrs. Grant.

The many friends in Newark of Captain John Clem of the United States Army will be interested in the following taken from the Columbus Dispatch:

Columbus people will undoubtedly read with interest the details of a meeting between Mrs. U.S. Grant and Captain John Clem which occurred at Atlanta yesterday. Captain Clem, now Assistant Quartermaster General of the army, was for a long time stationed at the Garrison in this city and, departing, left a legion of friends. His meeting with the widow of General Grant occurred at a reception she was holding for Confederate veterans at Atlanta. This favor had been asked by the veterans and readily granted. Among other who called to pay their respects to Mrs. Grant was Captain Clem.

“Of course I know Captain Clem if it is Johnny Clem, the drummer boy,” said Mrs. Grant when introduced to him, “I remember so well hearing my husband tell of how he found you at Shiloh that day beating the long roll and telling you you were a brave boy, but ought to be home.”

Captain Clem received his appointment as a lieutenant at the hands of President Grant. Of the reception in general Mrs. Grant said, “I regard it as one of the most handsome compliments that has ever been paid to me.”

Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Jan 31, 1895

Image from http://img.groundspeak.com

“JOHNNY” CLEM

To Be a Major — Honor Paid to a Newark Boy.

A dispatch from Atlanta conveys the intelligence that Captain John L. Clem, Assistant United States Quartermaster, stationed at Atlanta, has received work from Washington that he will be promoted to the next grade to which he is eligible, (Quartermaster with rank of Major) as soon as a vacancy occurs.

“Johnny Clem will be remembered as “The Drummer Boy of Shiloh.”
His many friends congratulate him on his prospective appointment.

Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Feb 14, 1895

Image from www.pearcecollections.us

A Soldier at 11.

There are only 77 officers on the active list of the army below the grade of general who served in the Civil War. All of these with one exception will soon be retired. The exception is that of Col. John L Clem, of the quartermaster’s department, whose age limit will not be reached until 1915. This extended time is due to the fact that “Little Johnny Clem, the drummer boy of Chickamauga,” as he was familiarly known, was probably the youngest person who ever bore arms in battle.

Col. Clem was also known as “Johnny Shiloh,” from the fact that in the battle of Shiloh he rode to the firing line on a caisson by the side of a veteran artilleryman, and then performed an act of daring in such a brave and cool manner that it gave him a name in history. He drummed the charge at Shiloh when he was only 11 years old, and with his short musket he killed the Confederate colonel who demanded his surrender at Chickamuaga. He is a popular officer, not only with his fellows of the army, but in social circles as well, being as genial a man as he is chivalrous a soldier.

Col. Clem was born in Ohio on Aug. 13, 1851, and in May, 1861, before he was 10 years old, he offered his services to the Third Ohio Regiment as drummer, but the mustering officer declined to enlist him because of his size and his youth. Later he offered his services to the Twenty-second Michigan, and though enlistment was refused, he was permitted to accompany the regiment to the field and to beat the “long roll” in front of Shiloh in April 1862. His soldierly manner and conduct in that engagement so won the confidence and admiration of the officers of the regiment that in May, 1863, he was permitted to enlist as a drummer and was then known as “Johnny Shiloh.” But it was on Sept. 23, 1863, at the battle of Chickamauga, that he displayed especial bravery. He had just passed his 12th birthday anniversary and had laid aside his drum for a musket, the barrel of which had been cut down for his use; and after acting as a “marker” for a time he took his place in the ranks. As the day closed, and the army retired to Chattanooga, his brigade was ordered by the enemy to surrender, and “Little Johnny” was himself covered by the sword of a Confederate colonel. His regiment was then fired into, and, falling as if shot, the juvenile soldier lay close until dar, when he went to Chattanooga and joined his command. But as he fell to the ground he fired at the Confederate officer and killed him, and so demoralized the Confederate com???? in such a way that his own associates escaped capture.

For his bravery young Clem was made a sergeant by Gen. Rosecrans and detailed to the headquarters of the Department of the Cumberland. He also received a silver medal from the hands of Miss Kate Chase, daughter of Chief Justice Chase. He was afterward captured by the Confederates and held prisoner for 68 days, and after his release he was promoted to orderly sergeant by Gen. Thomas. He was discharged from the service in September, 1864, when he returned to his old home and attended school, being graduated from the Newark High School in 1870. President Grant, who had kept watch of “Little Johnny” after the war ended, appointed him a second lieutenant in the regular army in 1871. Three years later he went to the artillery school at Fortress Monroe for a course of instruction in military science, and a year later passed a most sucessful examination.

The Daily Herald (Delphos, Ohio) Nov 13, 1903

SOLDIER AT TEN, IS TO QUIT ARMY

Colonel Clem Last Civil War Veteran In Active Service.

FIRST WOND FAME AT SHILOH

Fought With Little Musket Which Men of His Regiment Fashioned For Him — His Memorable Encounter With a Confederate Colonel After Chickamauga — Youngest Sergeant.
[Excerpt]

Youngest Sergeant Army Has Had.

After the battle General Rosecrans made Clem a sergeant — the youngest of that rank who ever served in the United States army.

Following the battle of Chickamauga, when the Union army was retiring toward Chattanooga, the brigade to which Clem was attached had been ordered to hold its position. The position became untenable, and the brigade fell back and, in doing so, lost “Little Johnny” Clem.

Suddenly out of the woods he came like a scared rabbit and ran full tilt into a Confederate colonel.

“My but you are a little shaver to be in this business!” the Confederate officer said, “But war is war, so you had better drop that gun.”

Instead, the boy fired point blank. The colonel fell from his horse badly wounded, and Johnny darted into the bushes. Late that night he turned up at Chattanooga.

The Confederate colonel, who recovered, afterward said he would never get over the suprise “that kid gave him.”

Adams County News (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Jul 4, 1914

“LITTLEST HERO OF CIVIL WAR” TO RETIRE FRIDAY THIRTEENTH

Brigadier General John L. Clem, “The Drummer Boy of Chickamauga,” and the Last Civil War Veteran in the U.S. Army, Will Go Out of Service On His “Lucky Day” — Gets a Job With His Son in San Antonio.

When Colonel John Lincoln Clem, officer in the Quartermaster Department at Washington and personal friend of hundreds of San Antonians, is retired from active service with the rank of brigadier general Friday, the thirteenth of August, this year, the last living link between the present United States army and the armies that participated in the civil war will be severed. Colonel Clem is the only veteran of that tremendous conflick still in active service with the United States Army.

After active service in the army for more than 45 years — he could have retired 15 years ago had he wanted to — “[the littlest hero] of the civil war,” and one of the most interesting figures in the army of the United States at the present time will quit active service and come to San Antonio to make his home as Brigadier General John L. Clem, U.S.A., retired.

He was born on Friday, the thirteenth of August, 1851; while he is not the least bit superstitious, the combination of Friday and the thirteenth day of the month, has marked the luckiest events of his life, and he will retire when that combination occurs in August on his sixty-fourth birthday. More than once in his lifetime has he remarked upon incidents which have turned out to his advantage occurring on the thirteenth of hte month and usually when that date fell on Friday. It is a strange coincidence that almost every time he was advised of promotion in the army, the notice came to him on the thirteenth day of the month.

Asks Son for a Job.

And when this combination occurs on the calendar next month he will retire from active service in the army, but not from active participation in affairs of the world. Brigadier General John Lincoln Clem, U.S.A., retired, hero of the civil war and late important figure in quartermasters affairs at Washington, will come to San Antonio to become automobile salesman in the regular employ of the Collins-Clem Automobile Company, one of the proprietors of which is his son, John L. Clem Jr.

Recently Colonel Clem wrote to his son: “I hereby make formal application for a position as automobile salesman with the Collins-Clem Automobile Company, distributers of Studebaker cars in the San Antonio district. Please advise me of your decision in the matter.” Then he wrote down at the bottom: “I am yet just as good a man as you are, son, and I can do just as much hard work in one day as you can, if I am a little old. I am going to buy a car from you, hire me a chauffeur to drive me on demonstrations, and I will sell as many cars as you will.”

This letter, as much as many other incidents in his life, brings out the quality in his character which have made him one of the most beloved of men among his associates.

“Invaded” Mexico.

One of these incidents, which forms the theme of a story many of his friends take great delight in relating about him, occurred on the Rio Grande frontier shortly after he entered the United States army as a second lieutenant. Lieutenant Clem was placed in charged of a squad of soldiers sent out to apprehend cattle thieves. The soldiers trailed the outlaws five days, but were unable to get closer than within a few miles of the rapidly fleeing band. The cattle thieves escaped across the Rio Grande and stood on the other side making motions at the soldiers, which Lieutenant Clem understood as essentially insulting. He resented their actions intensely, and at the head of his squad, crossed over the river into Mexico, gave chase to the desperadoes, and in an engagement the cattle thieves were killed to the last man.

Shortly after the incident, Lieutenant Clem received a letter from the commander of the department, General E.O.C. Ord. Lieutenant Clem was officially reprimanded. He was told that his conduct was unbecoming an officer of the United States army, he had been guilty of tremendous lack of judgement, he had violated the neutrality laws and his action might result in complications between two nations at peace. Such an escapade must never be repeated, on pain of serious consequences to the perpetrator.

The Heart of a Soldier.

The communication was officially signed in ink. A penciled inscription, in the department commander’s handwriting at the bottom of the page, read: “Good boy, Johnny, do it again.”

A newspaper correspondent in Washington asked Colonel Clem, on the occasion of the last memorial day, what memory was uppermost in his mind that day. And the famous old soldier, who, at the age of 12 years, was the twice-wounded veteran of one of the greatest campaigns of history, did not reply with a tale of sanguinary adventure.

“My memory pictures today what my kid eyes saw fifty-one years ago today,” he said gently, “a soldier in blue an a soldier in gray, shaking hands like two loving comrades between the trneches, swapping tobacco and coffee. In the morning they were to stab each other brutally with bayonets in a fierce hand-to-hand fight for those very trenches. Yet what I like to think of first on memorial day is not the bloody fight, but that tender scene preceding it, which showed me that after all, man to man, we soldiers of the north and of the south were friends and brothers always. We of the north hated that which they fought for, but we did not hate them personally, nor they us.

Was Impersonal War.

“And that is the most hallowed of my memories on this memorial day, for it brings back the thought that we who fought to kill each other were really never enemies. It was a war of cannon against fortress, of rifle against trench, but never of man against his brother man!

“It is the great tragedy of those bloody deaths we brought each other, but not because of hatred for each other, but for the sake of a principle, that we must think of on this sacred memorial day.”

Johnny Clem ran away from his home in Newark, O., when he was ten years old and attached himself to the Twenty-second Michigan regiment. The officers tried to chase him away, but the soldiers made him a pet and mascot and, finally, in May, 1862, the colonel enlisted him.

He was the hero of a brilliant scene at Chickamauga performed right under the eyes of his Union comrades, who were falling back rapidly. Johnny’s poor little legs were weary, and, so he lagged behind, a Confederate colonel galloped up to him, “Surrender, you damned little Yankee devil,” he cried.

Loved Life by Feigning Death.

Weak and tired though he was, his nerves never quivered. He pulled up his heavy musket — he had abandoned his drum — and fired. The colonel fell headlong from his horse, and a volley of bullets from the men behind him rained over Johnny Clem. Johnny’s comrades on the hill saw their heroic little soldier boy fall face downward. The battle raged four hours after that, and at dark the Union forces rested. Suddenly, into their bivouac crept Johnny Clem, unhurt, and displaying with tremendous pride his cap pierced by three bullet holes. He had saved his own life by shamming death.

General Thomas made the hero drummer boy a sergeant for that deed of bravery. And when the general advised him of promotion, the youngster answered: “General, is that all you’re going to make me?”

Later in his civil war careet, the 12-year-old soldier was hit on the hip by part of a shell, wounded in the ear while dispatch riding and once taken prisoner.
He is probably the only living man who voted legally at an age under 15. At the time Lincoln was elected the second time, all soldiers of the army were allowed to vote. Johnny Clem was a soldier in the army and he voted.

Johnny Clem went to high school when the war was over and then entered the army as second lieutenant. In his early service, he was the central figure in many exciting adventures on the Texas frontier. He is one of the very few infantry officers to graduate from the army artillary school and holds other distinctions for service in the army.

To Know Him Is To Love Him.

He was stationed at Fort Sam Houston for the first time in 1900 in the quartermaster department. He remained here four years, after which time he became chief of the quartermaster department of the Philippines, with headquarters in Manila. Two years later he was transferred to San Francisco and later returned to Fort Sam Houston as chief of hte quartermaster department of the Department of Texas. While stationed here, he probably made more friends among San Antonians than any other army officer who has ever been quartered at the army post.

Colonel Clem left Fort Sam Houston four years ago when he was transferred to the quartermaster department in Washington. He has been connected with the quartermaster department in Washington for the last two years.

After retiring from the army August 13, Colonel Clem will spend several months in the north and east,. At Dayton, O., a city-wide celebration, to be known as Clem day, has been arranged in his honor by Colonel Clem Garrison, Army and Navy Union, and the Grand Army of the Republic organization in that city.

He will come to San Antonio about December 1 to make his home.

THE SAN ANTONIO LIGHT (San Antonio, Texas) Jul 11, 1915

*****

Read more about Johnny Clem:

Ohio History Central: Johnny Klem – Johnny Clem

Learn Civil War History: A Civil War Blog of History and Stories:  Johnny Clem

8th New York Heavy Artillery, Co. B,

Fort Federal Hill,

Baltimore, Md.

12 April 1863,

…our Chaplain, De La Matyr is liked down here…If any one says to you that he ain’t much at Baltimore you just tell them for me that it is false…yes I know there are those in this regiment who do not like him, but they are composed of men who do not like any minister…

I have not much patience to talk with those who stay at home, aloof from all dangers and trials incident to a soldier’s life, and criticize the actions of those who have left home and friends to serve their country…I received a letter to day from my brother…his regiment is in Va on picket duty. They have had several skirmishes with the Rebs. I heard one man killed one badly wounded.

We still remain in this fort, or 8 companies of no. Co. C. We have gone to Fort McHenry…two miles from here…

Benjamin B. Hamilton, Chaplain of the 61st Illinois Infantry.

Camp of 61st Ills Vols Bolivar Tenn

Feb 23 1863,

Maj Ohi showed me a Green County Loyalist today in which honorable mention is made…of the services of Capt Manning and Chaplain Hamilton in our late battle with Forests Brigade on the morning of the 19th December last…I felt resigned to my fate in allowing it to be known in Green County that I had been in a battle with the rebels. Some of my brother Chaplains think I ought not to have [been] there while on my part the only regret I experienced was that I did not carry a gun…I think Captain Manning…is at home now but I am afraid he will sup sorrow on account of his rash trip…I am afraid he has [got] himself into a bad scrape…The doings of the Illinois Copperheads have had a very unhappy influence upon the minds of some men in this Regiment. I think they are justly chargeable with the larger proportion of the Desertions which are taking place. There will be a bitter day of reckoning before long…Those men have no idea of the intense hatred entertained for them by four fifths of the army. And the day of vengeance is much nearer than any of them dream…

Benjamin B. Hamilton was commissioned into service on 1 November 1862 and resigned on 3 March 1865. At Shiloh, the regiment lost 80 men killed, wounded and missing. The regiment also saw action at Clarendon on the White River, and at Overall’s Creek just outside of Murfreesboro.

Emily Dickinson’s “To interrupt His Yellow Plan” persuades me the sun is qualified to act as mentor; by establishing its solid, unyielding nature in words that also describe a good parent. “The Sun does not allow/ Caprices of the Atmosphere – ”

To interrupt His Yellow Plan
The Sun does not allow
Caprices of the Atmosphere -
And even when the Snow

Heaves Balls of Specks, like Vicious Boy
Directly in His Eye -
Does not so much as turn His Head
Busy with Majesty -

‘Tis His to stimulate the Earth -
And magnetize the Sea -
And bind Astronomy, in place,
Yet Any passing by

Would deem Ourselves – the busier
As the Minutest Bee
That rides – emits a Thunder -
A Bomb – to justify -

First, character. Second, the source of the conflict. Third, the plan. Fourth, like a parting thought, or postscript, busyness, or a “big stick” is not the same as meaningful purpose.

Before saying what the “grand plan” is, exactly, the poem acknowledges inevitable pitfalls and menace that will be thrown at the sun ~ and me. As I read , and imagine “… Snow/Heaves Balls of Specks, like Vicious Boy/Directly in His Eye” I am reminded of all the disappointments, losses and misfortune that seem to threaten, even wreck our lives.  But, I am also shown the mismatch of setbacks, even moods and desires, contrasted with the overall, immovable, purpose. “ ‘Tis His to stimulate the Earth – /And magnetize the Sea – /And bind Astronomy, in place,”.

Finally, its final stanza warns against confusing “purpose” with being busy; nor is the power to create havoc a “justification” for existence. After all, “.. the minutest Bee/That rides – emits a Thunder – ”.

And, it doesn’t take a genius to drop “A Bomb – to justify - ” whatever it is intended to validate.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

Home Camp near Murfreesboro, Tenn. May 14th, 1863

[Excerpt]

Of course I am pretty wild now but it is out of the power of the possibilities to remain as steady here as you could at home. Anyway, you will say the army is no place for one to improve their morals. Well, I agree with you there perfectly for I know of a minister who went down to Huntsville with our army and stole a horse and sold it down there and then stole another and run away home and that minister was our chaplain. I guess you will say “I am a pretty good boy” and so I will drop the subject.

Frank M Phelps, 10th Wisconsin

I love my life and the opportunity to share online and in discussion groups the poems of Emily Dickinson. By volunteering frequently at the Emily Dickinson Museum, many wonderful neighbors have become friends. Occasionally, and today being one of those occasions, I have an urge to shake things up and do something totally different. That’s fine, you say. My (not-so-big) problems is – I have an equal desire to keep things as they are.

Dickinson’s “They called me to the Window, for” shows the poet’s power to create enormous change of pace from everyday habits and routines, without actually going anywhere, by reading her own imaginary images. Then, translating them in this poem.

They called me to the Window, for
” ‘Twas Sunset” – Some one said -
I only saw a Sapphire Farm -
And just a Single Herd -

Of Opal Cattle — feeding far
Upon so vain a Hill -
As even while I looked – dissolved -
Nor Cattle were – nor Soil -

But in their Room – a Sea – displayed -
And Ships — of such a size
As Crew of Mountains – could afford -
And Decks – to seat the skies -

This – too – the Showman rubbed away -
And when I looked again -
Nor Farm – nor Opal Herd – was there -
Nor Mediterranean -

I can almost get my shot of something different, electric and exciting by bearing down (in my own imagination) on the flight from reality in this poem.

Somebody in the family calls me to the window ~ “” ‘Twas Sunset” – Some one said -” ~ to show me a sunset. What could be more commonplace? Sunset itself a ritual; predictable, if unique each time.

Then, imagination takes over. The poem recognizes what is unstable, short about a sunset and then “runs with it” using magical pictures of “.. a Sapphire Farm - ” and “Opal Cattle – ” that “.. even while I looked – dissolved – ”.

I am not looking for anything steady. Just a temporary jolt. Enhanced by the poem, I’m caught up in the display before me that so thoroughly displaces itself in stages ~ “But in their Room (stead) – a Sea – displayed - ” one image is wiped out by the other, which also changes immediately ~ “This – too – the Showman rubbed away -”. (In one of Dickinson’s notes on this poem she uses “stead” in place of “Room.”)

All of a sudden, “And when I look again -”, this fantazmagorical break with routine is gone. “Nor Farm – nor Opal Herd – was there -/Nor Mediterranean – ”.  Just what I needed.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

New Dickinson-related site>>

Snyders Bluff, Miss
Saturday Evening, July 4th, 1863
Dear Brother & Sister Burnham,

Vicksburg is ours at last, thank God. The Rebs defended it bravely but we forced them to hoist the white flag at 9 o’clock this morning in order to save themselves from the storm of hellfire brimstone iron & lead that we were agoing to hurl at them today. I was within easy musket shot of one of them forts when it was run up. The feeling of our men was not easily described, I assure you. The prisoners were estimated at 20,000. We have not had time to acertain.

The 9th NH Regt. is camped about 10 miles in the rear. They marched at noon today toward the Black Water River. All of our troops are on the move tonight in that direction. They will give Jo Johnson hell unless he skedaddles. Samuel & Henry’s health is good and they seem in good spirits. We have visited several times in the course of the last fortnight. Samuel sent me a letter tonight signed (Neice?) Flora Bell, East Weare (NH). I presume it is one of my relations, but I must confess I’m ignorant of who it is. But never mind. She says that Aunt Mary’s health is better and the baby is fat as a pig. Well now, it looks as if you’ve been recuiting for the army, I hope. But never mind. I learn that the Rebel Adj General reported 25,000 Rebels for duty this morning and 8,000 sick and wounded in the hospital. If that statement is correct we have Glory enough for one Fourth of July. They say that they have lost 3,000 during the seige. The stench arising from the dead horses and mules killed in the forts was insufferable. I have no tent and the wind has nearly destroyed my candle, so I must close. I would be pleased to hear from you.

My kindest regards to all, J. B. Hoit

NH soldier – JB Hoit, probably John B Hoit who enlisted in Manchester, April 1862

Memphis Tennessee Jan 8^th 1863

Dear Sister Fannie,

I _____ you will begin to think I have forgotten you by this time you by this time.  You have written me three times without an answer but if you had known how busy I have been you would excuse me.  We are not very busy at present have not done anything since we came here the first time for the last two months that I have not been on duty.  I think we will stay here some time and not have much to do but look around the city Memphis is a fine city. Business seems just about as lively as it is in peaceable times it seems so to me.  They say here that everything is dull not much going on there is plenty of fun going on here such as theatres and the Niger dances.

I can hardly realize war times here don’t see the effects of it so much as we do in the country.  Do you hear from Alfred?   I expect they are having a hard fight at Viesburg .  We can’t get any news direct from there.  I believe Gen. Sherman forbids anything being published or known till after the fight is over I am very anxious to hear from there.  I hear they are having dreadful slaughter report say the 8^th M. made a charge in one of the Batteries and lost all but 12 men.  I hear that other reg… are cut up in the same way. I suppose Banks have come to reinforce Gen. Sherman.  I do hope we will get Viesburg this time. It is thought here that the war will not continue many months I hope it will be through in a short time.

I am anxious to get home.  It seems like an age since I left home. Oh! Don’t I wish it was possible for me To get home any time should wish but no I must stay and think of home but cant possibly get there.  I am very thankful for the letters you have sent me hope you will write often I think I shall be able to answer all my letters now.  I have not rec… a letter since we were cut off at Holly Springs.  Brother Charlie has been discharged and has been gone 4 weeks so I cant get to see him after all I saw his likeness hung up in several show cases through town.  Trains are running regular every day to Grand Junction and to Holly springs.  The R.R. is covered with soldiers all the time night and day can see from one camp to another all the way through but the Guerillein say we shunt run the road.  The trains have not been disturbed yet but know knowing how soon they will make an attack.  The weather is very fine and warm almost like our September not any colder.  I am having quite an easy time now not anything to do but lay around no money to spend.  I run around the city once in awhile to see what is going on ___ Memphis is a fast city full of fast people the streets are full of fancy women every afternoon it is a dreadful wicked place full of vice and everything degrading.  I am glad that I am not led any by such wickedness.  I see Colonels and all kinds of officers walking around with Southern ladies.  I think if they would attend to their business and let the southern ladies alone we would get through fighting a great deal sooner then would be less surprises and less sympathizing with the south.  What a wicked world this is.  I feel just like leaving and going to some foreign country to love.  I see so much wickedness and treachery that lately that I am heartily sick of it not only sick of it but disgusted at it is.  I guess you will think this a poor excuse for a letter but it will have to answer.  Good bye Fanny. My love to all.

Your Brother,

Porter

I suppose the best prayers ~ personal hopes and expectations ~ are emblematic of our ideal self, always a little bit imaginary.

Emily Dickinson’s “’Tis true – They shut me in the Cold -” acknowledges first the baggage and grudges, of childhood, as well as the cognitive procedure to achieve a life free of them.  Spoken as a prayer, the poem’s aim is toward becoming a more honorable person.

‘Tis true – They shut me in the Cold -
But then — Themselves were warm
And could not know the feeling ’twas -
Forget it – Lord – of Them -

Let not my Witness hinder Them
In Heavenly esteem -
No Paradise could be – Conferred
Through Their beloved Blame -

The Harm They did – was short – And since
Myself – who bore it – do -
Forgive Them – Even as Myself -
Or else – forgive not me -

My experience says that childhood years and feelings about unhappy memories may hinder true maturity. Children and parents are certainly not always in harmony.  Expressing these stressful contrasts, “..me in the Cold -” while “.. – Themselves were warm” perfectly describes a child’s complaint. Sometimes complaints are warranted, sometimes not, of course. Then, the adult perspective, they “..could not know..”

This poem/prayer describes a certainty, “Forget it – Lord – of Them - ”, an authority over self that only results from complete acceptance.  Showing, too, that growing up may require the realization that proving fault in a parent not only does not improve our own status with ourself: “Let not my Witness hinder Them”.  Let alone with anyone else: “No Paradise could be – Conferred/Through Their beloved Blame -”.  Forgiveness magically works both ways, ”- Even as Myself -” enjoyed forgiveness in the process.

This personal voice echos all authentic religious teaching, that since the person who suffered has forgiven those who caused the pain, then surely God will, too. “… since/Myself – who bore it – do -/Forgive Them…”.

Whether regarding parents or someone else I feel has harmed me I have habitually been content to strive to be more forgiving. This poem confronts me with the absolute. “Or else – forgive not me -”.

One humorous way to recall my notion of “enough forgiveness” is also aimed at suggesting I relax, too, and goes something like this: Everything will be alright in the end. If everything is not alright, it’s not the end.

This poem is much more divisive, if you will, between lackadaisical attitudes and genuine, complete forgiveness, demanding that which sets me free for my tomorrows.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

When great storms have their way with land and man, who survives? Who perishes? Is it a caprice of nature? Survival of the fittest? In “Glee – The great storm is over -”, Emily Dickinson’s ballad take us in our imagination to the fireplace family circle of old and young. Stories of a first generation tragedy at sea gives rise to lyrical entertainment to soften, like time, the magnitude of loss.

Glee – The great storm is over -
Four – have recovered the Land -
Forty – gone down together -
Into the boiling Sand -

Ring – for the scant Salvation -
Toll – for the bonnie Souls -
Neighbor – and friend – and Bridegroom -
Spinning upon the Shoals -

How they will tell the Story -
When Winter shake the Door -
Till the Children urge -
But the Forty -
Did they – come back no more?

Then a silence – suffuse the story -
And a softness – the Teller’s eye -
And the Children – no further question -
And only the Sea – reply -

The four who are alive “have recovered the Land” in Dickinson’s story of forty who perished “Into the boiling Sand”. Boiling sand reminds me of recent deaths, perhaps thousands of victims, caused by tsunamis – earthquakes at sea – in Samoa, Sumatra and other parts of the Asia Pacific.  Of course there doesn’t need to be an earthquake for a storm at sea to appear so. This story may be inspired by the many Irish immigrants who worked in western Massachusetts in the 19th century. I say this because of the poem’s gentle commemoration in the words,  “Toll – for the bonnie Souls -”.

The four survivors, “the neighbor,” “the friend,” “the bridegroom” and “me.” For their progeny and other loved ones they are the only source of facts. Their experience tells us what to make of the tragedy. Is the neighbor like one of mine? A lady with a toothy smile, warm eyes, brown hair sliced with grey and slightly thick eyeglasses? She laughs so easily she tempts me to think I’m a comic.

And is the friend someone who doesn’t fit the stereotype? Uninterested in chit-chat, tall enough to be a basketball player but long hippy-like hair that balances and dramatizes his appearance somehow. A friend who is slow to get acquainted but loyal in the extreme once he has.

And the bridegroom? His fiance might have been one among “Forty – gone down together -”. Waiting to marry in America had been her idea. A mystical idea of happy beginnings, she had said. Who is the implied “I” who tells the tale? Does the brilliancy of the imagery mean I have survived? Or, do I remain obsessed with the unpredictability of fortune, relaying over and over in lyrics such as these its power to erase a human life?

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

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cartofilie.ro – imagine preluata

Caras-Severinul, incotro… ?

Ocupati fiind cu…. mentinerea * divelor * in functie ( comportament deja mai mult decat penibil ), cu sforariile-n slujba cumetriilor, cu doar interesele personale si deloc vreo farama de grija in ce priveste soarta judetului ori problemelor nenumarate cu care se confrunta carasenii, * maretiile * judetului Caras-Severin, campioni in promisiuni neonorate si posesori a unor potentiale de * succesuri * in ce priveste jongleria cu banul public, daca e sa amintim numai numeroasele articole din presa centrala ce-au culminat cu dezvaluirile fostului director economic al CJC-S, Buda, obisnuiti fiind cu domnia bunului plac – politica de stat in stat – * ca la noi la nima-n lume *, cum n-au timp de * nimicuri *, si-si vad de manarii nonsalanti intr-o Romanie a oricui numai a romanilor, ba, zic ei, smenarii, iata, au lasat initiativa, implementarea si destinul unor proiecte la mana muritorilor de rand, ei *nemuritorii *… Or avea macar minimul de bun simt sa ne-ncarce cartelele telefonice, noua celor fara de venit, dar, spre deosebire de * stimabili * interesati de soarta judetului candva renumit, gratie rezultatelor obtinute in diverse domenii de activitate, acum… c-am ajuns la mila publica, poate datorita cohortei de zbecialisti cu care se falesc dreguitorii * nostri*, mai nou, la festivalurile rachiei si… atat…

Nu poti sa nu te-ntrebi : *Caras-Severinul, incotro… ? *, vazand zilnic strigatoarea la Cer nepasare, dezinteres, incompetenta , sfidare la adresa societatii civile, prin perpetuarea ideii de voievodat, a dezmatului la care se dedau unii si aceiasi baroni locali, pe fata, in vazul lumii , timp in care, desi secatuite si lasate-n dorul lelii, puzderie de minunatii cu care Mama Natura a daruit judetul, rezultatele muncii inaintasilor nostri, inca neexploatate resurse… se degradeaza, cad prada paraginei, balariilor, uitarii, in Twin Peakse-ul carasean si, cu siguranta nemultumirile, dezamagirile, reprosurile au un suport real ce nu vor fi pe plac, concretizate-n nema voturi, caci NU le merita, la viitoarele alegeri, * onor gospodarii * pentru moment inca * fruncea *. Ramana vorba intre noi, si paduchii imbuibati *se dau * la frunte, pana cand se gasesc remedii, iar deratizarea parazitilor, se impune! Cu alte cuvinte, orice * nas * isi are nasul, intr-o zi… caci nimic nu e pentru totdeauna si toti cioflingarii vor plati intr-un fel sau altul, joaca de-a Dumnezeu… unul nu va scapa si nimeni nu-i va invidia la Judecata, vai steaua lor de inconstienti si iresponsabili. De Istoria Feroviara a Banatului Montan se ocupa printr-o initiativa laudabila si spre rusinea carmuitorilor judetului,vecinii nostri sarbi, de potentialul turistic, Doamne, Doamne, infrastructura pana la proba contrarie ramane la stadiul de… slogan * vom face, vom drege… *, industria caraseana… no coment, caci ce sa mai coment, ne-am lamurit, investitii si investitori… cum am spus, poate-ntr-o zi…, nimeni nu-i nemuritor si nici de neinlocuit, geaba fac ei pe niz-naii, turtureii * care sunt *, deja peste masura lui Dumnezeu de multi, ca-ncrengatura de neamuri/nemosaguri a impanzit toate ungherele administratiei publice locale pe ideea de * totul sub control, totul monitorizat, nimic nu transpira *… dar, damful putrefactiei razbate demult, dincolo de granitele amarat jdetului Caras-Sverin, caci tot indesand sub pres, tot intinzand coarda, batjocorind sistematic opinia publica… vai de zulufii * divelor * si cornitele * taurasilor * sub papuc, mai curand decat isi inchipuie… pentru ca, noua, carasenilor de buna credinta si pe munca si eforturile carora *stimabilii * s-au autointitulat, cum zisai * fruncea *, ne pasa, si-i vom taxa, si-i vom trage la raspundere si vor plati! Pai cine-s ei, chiar asa, cine-s… ??  A, da… aia care nu prididesc sa scoata armatele la inaintare cand se lupta cu… furnicile, aia care cantau pe la mese * sa traim bine *, aia care sunt vinovati pentru halul in care se prezinta  judetul la atat de multe capitole, dincolo de rapoarte de activitate pe hartie sclipitoare,ca-n realitate, se vad cu ochiul liber * bunastarea *, * succesurile *, * traiul bun*…

Sibilla

Articol preluat de pe www.caon.ro :

Şi părerea ta contează

REŞIŢA – Calea ferată Oraviţa-Anina ar putea fi restaurată şi cu ajutorul nostru, al oamenilor din judeţ.

În această toamnă, în premieră, Televiziunea Română prezintă programul „Restaurare“, realizat în parteneriat cu Ministerul Culturii, Cultelor şi Patrimoniului Naţional, Oficiul Naţional al Monumentelor Istorice şi Fundaţia Art Production.

În cadrul acestui program vor fi prezentate 30 de monumente din întreaga ţară, câte trei în fiecare episod. Telespectatorii pot alege câte unul dintre obiectivele din fiecare ediţie. Cele zece finaliste se vor înfrunta în ediţia din data de 1 decembrie, când va fi ales marele câştigător al concursului, acesta urmând a fi restaurat.

Din judeţul nostru a fost aleasă calea ferată dintre Anina şi Oraviţa. Inaugurată în 1863, este prima cale ferată montană de pe actualul teritoriu al României. Având în componenţă 14 tuneluri (cel mai lung fiind cel de la Gârlişte, 660 m) şi 10 viaducte (cel mai înalt, de 37 de metri, fiind viaductul Jitin), a fost supranumită Semmering-ul Banatului.

Construită pentru exploatarea de către StEG a zăcămintelor de cărbuni de la Anina, calea ferată va deveni, treptat, inutilă, păstrându-şi însă un farmec aparte, din păcate nepus în valoare aşa cum ar merita.

„Ar fi frumos ca şi telespectatorii cărăşeni să voteze în număr cât mai mare, pe măsura interesului lor pentru monumentele şi valorile judeţului nostru“, ne-a declarat Ada Cruceanu, directorul Direcţiei pentru Cultură, Culte şi Patrimoniu Caraş-Severin.

Calea ferată Anina-Oraviţa va fi prezentată în ediţia de duminică, 27 septembrie 2009, pe postul de televiziune TVR 1. Pentru a alege, aveţi două opţiuni – fie prin reţeaua de telefonie Romtelecom, la numărul 0900.160.440 (0,95 euro), fie prin SMS, la numărul 1388 (0,95 euro).

Dacă tot ne plângem că nu face nimeni ceva pentru noi, poate avem acum o şansă să ne facem auziţi şi să ajutăm la reînvierea unui monument unic. Avem această şansă, trebuie să profităm de ea. Asta, dacă ne pasă cu adevărat de Banat…

Nina Curiţa

http://www.caon.ro/

Update :

„Templierii“ vor Semmering-ul Banatului?

ANINA – O asociaţie de renume internaţional este interesată de cumpărarea căii ferate Anina – Oraviţa.

Îi ştim istoria şi importanţa trecută. Cunoaştem cât ar ajuta judeţul dacă i s-ar da valoarea cuvenită. Ştim de câte ori s-a vorbit despre acest obiectiv şi că de ani de zile, vorbele au rămas la stadiul de vorbe iar diversele demersuri sunt aşternute pe hârtii pierdute prin birouri.

Şi în timp ce noi nu facem nimic, ea, calea ferată Anina-Oraviţa, din 1863 încoace ne promovează peste tot. Intenţii de cumpărare a acestui tronson au tot existat, dar nu s-a concretizat nimic şi credem că e bine. De ce spunem asta? Pentru că exista riscul ca unii cumpărători să nu o vrea decât pentru fier vechi.

Acum, la orizont, se arată un alt doritor care vrea să achiziţioneze drumul de fier. Este vorba despre Asociaţia „Ordinului Cavalerilor Templului din Ierusalim, al României – O.S.M.T.H.“, iar cumpărarea e deocamdată doar la stadiul de intenţie.

„Chiar dacă nu vom reuşi să votăm suficient pentru ca această cale să fie renovată de Ministerul Culturii, nu aş vrea să fie vândută. Regionala CFR va câştiga bani, dar doar pe termen scurt. Pe termen lung ar fi mai bine ca primăriile oraşelor Anina şi Oraviţa, precum şi Consiliul Judeţean, să se asocieze, să o preia în administrare şi să facem din acest drum de fier drumul spre dezvoltarea celor două oraşe. E un obiectiv turistic prea important pentru a fi vândut“, ne-a declarat viceprimarul Aninei, Nicolae Radu.

Ar fi minunat să fie cât mai aproape vremurile în care un monument unic în ţară să nu reprezinte doar o povară…
Nina Curiţa
nina.curita@informmedia.ro

http://www.caon.ro/

http://www.oswego.edu/~giukin/oravita/

http://www.banaterra.eu/industrie/istindbm/intamplari/cf_o_a.htm

http://www.cfr.ro/CFR_new/Rom/tunele.htm

De vizitat Muzeul Locomotivelor din Resita, judetul Caras-Severin :

Muzeul locomotivelor cu aburi, Reşiţa :

Muzeul a fost constituit, prin eforturile ing. Mircea Popa, director al Uzinelor resitene pe atunci, în anul 1972, la aniversarea unui secol de productie de locomotive cu aburi la Resita. Cuprinde 16 exponate din diverse epoci de constructie, cel mai important fiind locomotiva RESICZA, una dintre cele trei prime locomotive cu aburi construite în spatiul sud-est european, la Resita , în 1872-73. Celelalte doua („Bogsan” si „Hungaria”) au fost casate în anul 1937. Locomotiva „Resicza” a fost recuperata, în 1961, de la Câmpia Turzii , unde era garata pe o linie de manevra. Proiectata de John Haswell (1812 – 1897), originar din Scotia, dar stabilit la Viena , piesa este o locomotiva tender cu doua roti cuplate, care se poate înscrie în curbe cu raza de maxim 45 m, are o forta de tractiune de 1125 kg si 45 CP la viteza de 11 km/h. Lungimea locomotivei este de 4,48 m si greutatea în serviciu, de 11,5 t. A fost construita în conditii improvizate în atelierele uzinelor StEG Resita, iar în perioada 1961-1972 a fost garata pe o linie de manevra în fata Fabricii de locomotive (1923) din complexul uzinal local. Fabricatia locomotivelor cu aburi la Resita se încheie în anul 1964, cu 10 locomotive de ecartament normal, din seria 150.000, destinate exportului. Cu doua exceptii, cele 16 piese din Muzeul de astazi, concentreaza istoria de aproape un secol a acestei importante componente a industriei constructoare de masini pe malurile Bârzavei. Lista locomotivelor, în ordinea anului de fabricatie :

Din respect pentru locurile natale, parintii care m-au educat sa ma implic, sa nu ma tem, sa spun lucrurilor pe nume, pentru Oameni, caci inca mai exista si Oameni in Caras-Severin,  din respect pentru mine, invit la meditatie carasenii contemporani si dau din nou tema de casa si subiect de reflectie * stimabililor * raspunzatori, pana-n prezent carmuitori ai judetului :

* Adevărul este ca apa rece care face rău doar dinţilor stricaţi. *    ( Nicolae Iorga )

* Democrat înseamnă cineva care vrea să înalţe poporul pe umerii săi, nu cineva care vrea să se înalţe el pe umerii poporului. *   ( Nicolae Iorga )

Sibilla

citate preluatede pe www.citapedia.ro

imagini preluate de pe google.ro

informatii preluate de pe www.caon.ro

The Civil War Gazette recently acquired this letter from a soldier in the 51st Illinois.

Camp _________, Tennessee

July 27, 1863

Dear Companion & Family,

As I have arrived safe to the Regiment I will send you a few lines. The present time finds me in tolerable health. I was quite unwell on the way down here but am some better now. We got to the Regiment last Thursday and we found everything was all wright.

The Captain said we had been reported as discharged and we did not belong to the company any more, and we are now going to wait until we get our discharge papers made out and then we are going to come home. It maybe 3 weeks before we come but we will come as quickly as we can. We are now along way from home, a good ways into Dixie, the regiment camped on top of the Cumberland Mountain and it is cool and pleasant up here.

Well as I haven’t anything of interest to write you at this time I will close you need not be worried about me for I am doing very well down here. As soon as this comes to hand and tell me how you and the children are, tell me all the news. I will stop for the present, answer soon. I remain your affectionate husband as ever.

George M. ________

The 51st Illinois fought at Stone’s River (January 1-2 1863), Chickamauga (9/63), Kennesaw Mountain 6/64), Atlanta (8/64), Franklin (11/64), and Nashville (12/64).

It’s mostly typical these days for me to say, “What the heck do I do next?”

However, even lost girls may feel quite good, optimistic and positive about life in general, occasionally. Although I am confounded by a legal/personal crisis that I find myself in, “Did Our Best Moment last – ”, by Emily Dickinson, reflects my “heavenly mood” today.

Did Our Best Moment last -
‘Twould supersede the Heaven -
A few – and they by Risk – procure -
So this Sort – are not given -

Except as stimulants – in
Cases of Despair -
Or Stupor – The Reserve -
These heavenly moments are -

A Grant of the Divine -
That Certain as it Comes -
Withdraws – and leaves the dazzled Soul
In her unfurnished Rooms -

“A few” feelings of warmth and generosity toward friends and others encountered on a day-to-day basis include my urge to protect and care for just about everyone: “ – and they by Risk – procure – /So this Sort – are not given – Except as stimulants – in/Cases of Despair -”.

Ordinary interactions with others in everyday surroundings have developed into satisfactions, “Or Stupor – The Reserve -” that are missing when life presents little in the way of limits to my daily routine.

And these encounters will provide opportunities to grow and to enlarge my life. Or, “These heavenly moments are -/ A Grant of the Divine – /That Certain as it Comes -Withdraws -”. Then, I am back where the landscape of my thinking is caught within the barriers of my knowledge, resources and experience.  These newly confined limits of daily routine can actually become the vehicle for new chances and opportunities.

Unless I am again “the dazzled Soul” lost in my own “unfurnished Rooms -”.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

When my mother was alive she was fond of saying, “keep your chin up,” if I happen to share with her the trouble or worry “du jour.”  Usually, I would make a joke of it and say, “If I do that I’ll stumble over a rock!” We would share a smile, or groan.

The challenges for me today, are to confront my problems without feelings of doubt and inadequacy. The lawsuit filed against me has me thinking trouble follows me no matter what. Emily Dickinson’s “’Tis little I – could care for Pearls -” reaffirms my belief that I am doing what I should be doing with my life. This little poem is a gilt-edge affirmation of the miracle of individuality.

‘Tis little I – could care for Pearls -
Who own the Ample sea -
Or Brooches – when the Emperor -
With Rubies – pelteth me -

Or Gold – who am the Prince of Mines -
Or Diamonds – when have I
A Diadem to fit a Dome -
Continual opon me -

It is such a temptation to feel hopelessness in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds these days by the necessity to “play lawyer” for myself. (I am being sued.)  The poem whispers that I “…own the Ample sea – / Or Brooches – when the Emperor – / With Rubies – pelts me – ”.

With the exception of one lawyer, I have received demoralizing advice about the legal circumstances I find myself in. But, I won’t cave in. “’Tis little I could care…/ for Diamonds – when have I / A Diadem to fit a Dome -”.

It feels like the underlying passion in the poem is compassion. Enough to free me to evaluate what I am doing, in my own terms. The poem embodies a determination to decide a course that is my own, not someone else’s. My life, my diadem, if you will, fits my head alone and it is “Continual opon me -”.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

Now that I’ve decided to represent myself in the lawsuit against me, I’m going to need all the skill my genes allow to express ideas and feelings effectively. “Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s Mouth -” by Emily Dickinson, puts me squarely in mind to take a no-nonsense approach.

As always, in a pinch, I turn to Dickinson poems.

Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s Mouth -
Widths out of the Sun -
And look – and shudder, and block your breath -
And deem to be alone

In such a place, what horror,
How Goblin it would be -
And fly, as ’twere pursuing you?
Then Loneliness – looks so -

Did you ever look in a Cannon’s face -
Between whose Yellow eye -
And your’s – the Judgment intervened -
The Question of “To die” -

Extemporizing in your ear
As cool as Satyr’s Drums -
If you remember, and were saved
It’s liker so – it seems -

I have a pretty decent imagination. And, I express myself about as well as the next person. My thinking doesn’t qualify me for rocket science, but then all that left brain astro-physicists thinking never appealed to me anyway. This poem is a cautionary tale demanding its reader make a clear distinction between imagination and illusion. I fully recognize the possibility of illusion where representing myself is concerned. It’s just that I really don’t have the money to do otherwise.

The first two stanzas describe my feelings, using imagination to clarify.  Imagination gives the brain freedom to “look – and shudder, and block your breath -/ And deem to be alone”.

The third stanza takes on the judge’s role, “the Judgment intervened -”, although financial death is possible, “The Question of “To die” -” is an illusion. There is always the risk that the power of imagination will be used negatively; thereby creating illusion.

The poem cautions me, “Extemporizing in your ear/As cool as Satyr’s Drums -”, to subject all the ideas that come to me now to the test of time. (Is meditation a way to do this?) My big challenge is not only fine points of the law, but, to find out whether my answers to the summons, and the ideas/thoughts involved are of lasting value or just a fantasy of a moment. The difference is crucial: “If you remember, and were saved/It’s liker so – it seems -”.

Digest A Poem A Day – Accept What Comes Your Way

post script: anyone reading this post and the previous one, may be interested to know that I found a lawyer willing to reduce his fees and to represent me. For now, all is humming along nicely. Thank you for your interest.