”The dead continue to live by way of the resurrection we give them in telling their stories” -Stories of Real Human Beings Make History Powerful, Photographs Make it Immediate.
A Blog Remembering the Men and Women of the American Civil War, North & South, people, faces, and a unique culture we will never see again. Photos and stories about the people that lived it, including African American Photographs, pre civil war photos and the period in cultural history that began just after the civil war. The historical info, photos and documents in this blog reflect the attitudes, perspectives, and beliefs of different times. This blog does not endorse the views expressed in some posts, which may contain materials offensive to some readers, you cannot compare the beliefs and ethical values of the people of the 1800's to the standards of today.
Every effort is taken to remember the men and women of the Union and Confederacy equally with dignity and respect.
The events of the war, and the men of the war, are fast fading from the public attention. Its history is growing to be an “Old, Old Story.” Public interest is weakening day by day. The memory of march, and camp, and battle-field, of the long and manly endurance, of the superb and uncomplaining courage, of the mass of sacrifice that redeemed the Nation, is fast dying out. Those who rejoice in the liberty and peace secured by the soldier’s suffering and privation, accept the benefits, but deny or forget the benefactor-1877 National Tribune.
Old Harvey was the mascot for the 104th Ohio Infantry. He was beloved for the companionship and humor he provided the troops. It is said that Harvey would show his great love for music by swaying from side to side while the soldiers sang campfire songs in the evening. He was wounded in two different battles but survived each time. Harvey’s tag read, “I am Lieutenant D.N. Stearns’ Dog. Who’s Dog Are You?” The 104th had a portrait of Harvey commissioned so that he could still be part of their reunions after his death.Today, Harvey is remembered by the Western Reserve Historical Society in Cleveland, where a portrait of the troop features a proud Harvey posing with his fellow soldiers.
“Sallie” a brindle Staffordshire Bull Terrier, The only known photo of her -middle. Was regimental mascot for the 11th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry during the Civil War. Sallie, came to 1st Lt. William R. Terry when she was but four weeks old. Always by the side of Lt. Terry, Sallie grew up among the men of the regiment. She followed them on marches and into battle.
At the battle of Gettysburg, July 1st – July 3rd 1863, Sallie was separated from her unit. Unable to find her way, she returned to the Union battle line at Oak Ridge, where Sallie stood guard over the dead and wounded. Sallie continued her faithful service until February of 1865 when during the battle of Hatcher’s Run, Virginia, Sallie was struck in the head by a bullet and killed instantly. Sallie was buried on the battlefield while surrounded by enemy fire.
In appreciation of her loyal devotion, a monument of Sallie now stands in Gettysburg, directly in front of the monument that commemorates the 11th Pennsylvania Infantry.
Jack was the mascot for the 102nd Pennsylvania Infantry. His career spanned through nearly all the regiment’s battles in Virginia and Maryland. He was present at the Wilderness campaigns, Spotsylvania, and the siege of Petersburg. Jack’s job, was to find the dead and wounded of his regiment. Jack was wounded at the battle of Malvern Hill. He was able to escape capture by the confederate soldiers and survive the battle of Antietam in 1862. Jack was captured twice and became the only dog to be traded as a prisoner of war. On his second capture, he was exchanged for a Confederate soldier at Belle Isle. Jack disappeared after being presented a silver collar. It is believed that he was a victim of theft.
It could be that Jack was stolen or murdered for his new collar,which was emblazed with silver and which cost (at the time) the astounding price of $75. Or perhaps Jack succumbed to a bullet, poison, trap, or some other wayward thing, and simply expired ignominiously on hallowed ground — his silver collar waiting to be dug up by a lucky groundhog hunter.