Yankees: March 2008 Archives

Mary Fisher was the wife of the judge of York, Robert Fisher. She had witnessed the march of John Gordon’s Georgia brigade through the town on June 28, and had suffered through the subsequent occupation of the town by Jubal Early, who had threatened her husband that he would burn the locked county courthouse to the ground if Judge Fisher did not produce the keys. Mary would be among those York residents who ministered to the wounded following the Battle of Gettysburg.

Statue of a stoic soldier

Background post: Misery: The 5th Wisconsin's Journey through York County

The soldier’s life is at times fraught with danger, although field combat is generally only a small percentage of the actual time allocation. Marching, drilling, camp fatigue duty, and other downtime represent a far greater amount of time than the actual fighting. Soldiers away from home often have considerable time on their hands, hours that often are spent brooding or contemplating their situation. For one Wisconsin Civil War soldier, his thoughts turned (as they often do for today’s soldiers) to his widely scattered loved ones.

Corporal Ernest Simpson of Battery E, 1st Rhode Island Artillery lived a short and tragic life. Born in Leipsic, Germany, as a young man he had quarreled repeatedly with his parents, who strongly disapproved of a particular love affair. Despondent, Simpson left home and migrated to London, England, where, alone and brooding, he tried to commit suicide but failed. Simpson bought passage on a boat to the United States and sailed to America to start over. He eventually settled in York, where he lived at the start of the Civil War. On October 7, 1861, a train arrived carrying Battery E, 1st Rhode Island Artillery, and, "attracted by the great reputation of Rhode Island batteries," Simpson decided on the spot to enlist. He fully expected to be put out of his misery on the battlefield.

As I sit in front of my warm fireplace this morning, I cannot help but think of the rich blessings in my life. God has been so good to me through the years, and I have been so undeserving of what He has poured out. Easter weekend has always been a time of celebration for our family, marked by mutual worship, sunrise services, family get-togethers and good food, Easter baskets for the kids, games and family activities, and thankfulness.

A few times over the two-plus decades we lived in exteme northeastern Ohio, Easter was also marked by something else - a blizzard! Even in late April a couple of times, we arose on Easter Sunday to find that more than a foot of snow blanketed the ground (it's easy to hide, but tough to find Easter eggs in the snow drifts!).

For one Pennsylvania infantry regiment, Easter 1863 also brought a blanket of the white crystals...

Post-war view of the Northern Central station and tracks at York Haven. The 5th Wisconsin passed through this village en route to York. For more photos of York railroad structures, see Greg Halpin's website.

The Civil War has been considered by some authors as the "first modern war." Innovations such as submarines, rifled muskets, entrenchments, aerial reconnaissance, rail-mounted artillery, and others were implemented, some for the first time on a broad scale. Among the many changes in warfare was the mass transit of troops. Instead of walking or riding on horses or in wagons, troops could be conveyed from point to point via the fledgling system of railroads, cutting down the time it took to arrive in key locations. This was dramatically emphasized early in the war when the Confederates moved an army from the Shenandoah Valley into position to participate in the First Battle of Manassas.

As the war progressed, hundreds of thousands of troops (mostly Union) were conveyed on the railroads, and a fair percentage of them passed through York County. For some, the ride was pure misery...

Photo by Randy Drais. His ancestor may have been treated in this field hospital after the Battle of Gettysburg.

Randy Drais, a lifelong resident of York, has created an interesting new website specifically pertaining to the Battle of Gettysburg. Covering a broad and diverse range of topics, Randy's site has something for everyone, including a page with ideas to help children understand the battle and the Civil War experience.

Randy has pages devoted to out-of-the way locations that often are of interest to even the casual battlefield tramper, as well as pages for side-trips (including York and Hanover), recaps of National Park Service battlewalks, interesting monuments, and much, much more! For those who want to dive deeper into the battle's details, Randy includes an array of weblinks and books organized by topic and battle sequence.

Sixteen-year-old Franklin Gilmore was a corporal in Company A of the 155th Pennsylvania, an infantry regiment raised in mid-August 1862 in the Pittsburgh region. He and his fellow recruits trained at Camp Howe, a place the writer deemed a "miserable squallid-looking place." Frank saw his first combat action at Fredericksburg, and was assigned after the battle to assist the wounded in the field hospital. At Gettysburg, a Rebel accosted Gilmore near Devil's Den and demanded his surrender. Gilmore ducked behind a rock, and later was able to seize the Confederate and escort him to the rear.

When Gilmore and his regiment marched into Virginia in pursuit of Lee's retreating army, little did the teenager know what awaited him, including an expected emergency visit to York.

Company B of the 13th Pennsylvania, a three-months' regiment, was encamped at York's Camp Scott in early May 1861. A stray dog wandered into camp and was soon adopted by the soldiers. The new volunteer became the mascot and accompanied the regiment for some time. In recogition of his origins, the pet dog was named "York."

Rev. Alexander M. Stewart, the regimental chaplain, described York as being a "curious-looking specimen of the canine. One must be more skilled in doggery than the writer to define his species. Spaniel, cur, terrier, and water-dog all seem blended into one."

What York lacked was natural hunting instincts and a keen sense. He was clearly a city dog.

By June 1865, the 112th Illinois Infantry was a battle-toughened veteran regiment. The starry-eyed recruits who had joined the regiment at its inception were now combat experienced and victorious, as the war was now over and it was time to head home. The regiment had participated in the Carolinas Campaign under William T. Sherman. The soldiers had boarded a train in Greensboro, North Carolina, for the long trip back to Chicago, where the men would receive their final pay and be mustered out of the army.

Instead of the hero's welcome in the WIndy City, one soldier would find himself in a Pennsylvania hospital.

James Ashworth was born in 1836 in the town of Bury in Lancashire, a rural county in northwest England along the Atlantic coast / Irish Sea. He emigrated with his parents to the U.S., and the family settled near Holmesburg, northeast of Philadelphia. He moved to Frankford, graduated from Philadelphia High School, and entered the transoceanic shipping business, working for a firm that operated cargo packets to Liverpool, England.

With the outbreak of the Civil War, Ashworth accompanied General Robert Patterson's force down to Maryland as a civilian volunteer. He took up a musket and fought a Rebel raiding party that was attempting to wreck the C+O Canal near Williamsport, but was arrested by the citizens the next day as a rebel spy and put on trial.