My primary area of research relates to wartime letters written home by soldiers and sailors, and which widow’s and dependents parted with in order to provide the Bureau of Pensions with evidence to support their claim. However, letters were not the only personal possessions that families gave up to the Federal Government. Although extremely rare, very occasionally these pension files can contain an actual image of the deceased soldier, revealing to us the face of an Irish American serviceman. This post looks at the story behind one such file and the image you see above- that of James Donohue, whose life was cut cruelly short on the bloody field of Antietam.

The Donohue story begins on 13th April 1833, when Irish emigrant Thomas Donohue married his wife Emeline in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, a house of worship in the bustling Vermont town of Windsor. While Thomas was certainly Irish-born, later documents are contradictory as to whether Emeline was born in Ireland or Vermont. What is apparent is that there was likely some urgency with the couple’s ceremony, as by the time their wedding day arrived Emeline was already a number of months pregnant. The couple’s first son- James- arrived on 13th August that year. Almost immediately after his birth the family moved on, and the baby was baptised in the industrial town of Claremont, New Hampshire when he was around three months old. Thomas worked as a laborer, and it may be that he kept his family on the move to exploit new opportunities as they arose. The family spent a few years in New Hampshire, where around 1841 a second son, John, was born. Ultimately the Donohue’s decided to up sticks again, and by the middle of the decade were living in Troy, New York. The couple’s third son Thomas was born there around 1846, and was later joined by a sister, Mary Ann, around 1849. By 1850 the growing family were making their home in the city’s Third Ward. (1)

By 1860 James had become the patriarch of the family. Despite their years together, Thomas had recently abandoned the support of Emeline and the children, departing apparently never to be heard from again. James, who made his living as a teamster, became an even more vital part in the economic lives of his mother and younger siblings. His pursuit of employment took him out of state, and he spent the six years prior to the war in Tennessee and Pennslyvania, all the while remitting money home to West Troy. It seems it was only when conflict seemed imminent that James returned home. He was 28-years-old when he enlisted on 16th June 1861. Described as 5 feet 6 inches tall, with grey eyes, dark hair and a ruddy complexion, James joined other West Troy recruits in Company A of the 34th New York Volunteers, the “Herkimer Regiment”. Among the comrades who joined him in the Company’s ranks during the weeks that followed were his younger brother John. The next year would see the brothers endure plenty of hard marching and campaigning together, most notably at the Battle of Fair Oaks on the Peninsula, where the regiment was particularly heavily engaged. However, nothing could prepare them for what lay on the horizon in Maryland, where James and John would find themselves at the centre of the maelstrom during the bloodiest day of the American Civil War. (2)

When the 34th New York splashed across Antietam Creek on the morning of 17th September 1862 they brought with them 311 men. They entered the field of battle as part of the First Brigade, Second Division of the Army of the Potomac’s Second Corps. The regiment was fed into the fighting via the East Woods, from where they moved across the open field to the south of the Miller Cornfield. From there the 34th crossed the Hagerstown Pike and advanced into the West Woods, immediately to the north of the Dunker Church. In the confused and desperate see-saw struggle that evolved, the New Yorkers quickly found themselves involved in a desperate firefight. Within minutes they were almost overwhelmed by a Confederate counterattack, which threatened to engulf the small and increasingly isolated command. This threat, coupled with the desperately heavy losses they were sustaining, forced the 34th back from whence they had come. Their retreat ultimately brought them back to the field they had first advanced across, where they moved to the support of Woodruff’s battery. Woodruff’s regulars disgorged a savage storm of iron into the oncoming Rebel lines, driving them back. By the time the whole affair was through it was clear the New Yorkers had suffered galling casualties, having lost almost 50 percent of their strength. This included 32 men killed in action, 109 wounded in action, and nine missing in action. In later years, one of the Company E survivors would recall his experience of the day:

Rushed forward at the top of their speed in broken order, one company in rear of the other, out of breath and almost fainting, Company E was brought to the very summit of the ground, to the left of the lane leading to the “Dunkard Church.” From this point could be seen the shining bayonets of the enemy then forming on the east of the pike and south of the church. This was evidently unheeded by the officers in command, as the order, forward run, was still repeated by aid and staff of the commanding general. The enemy was not in large force, protected by a ledge of rocks, west of the pike and in rear of the Dunkard Church. In less than five minutes after the regimental line had been formed, five of Company E lay dead or dying, almost within touch of each other…we had altogether the worst of the position, and were engaged by those in our front at short range, we found ourselves flanked and enfiladed by a vastly superior force. Surrender or death seemed to be the only thing in sight. To secure liberty the “cornfield” must be recrossed, over the bodies of the dead and dying, not in the route we had come, but by a circuitous course, in the face of a destructive fire of musketry at short range. It is a mystery that will never be solved, how it was possible for any one to pass through such a death-trap and live to record the fact. Many of the men fell from exhaustion, and were swept beneath the wave, like the undertow of the ocean beach. The writer of this sketch fell but a rod or two in front of our battery, and within about the same distance from the charging foe. Our artillerymen were waiting, with cannon charged with grape and canister, to uncover the enemy so that they might not slaughter their friends. Shot after shot was fired in quick succession full in the face of the foe, opening wide gaps, at every discharge, and sending fragments of men into the air, in all directions, adding rivers of gore to a field already deeply dyed by the blood of both armies. Probably there was never a time known in the history of modern warfare where so many men were slain as upon the consecrated ground on that 17th day of September, 1862. Surely, the demon of death must have been fully satiated. (3)

One of those sacrificed to the “demon of death” was James Donohue. We can only imagine the horror and desperation his younger brother John must have felt at his fate during the West Woods fighting on 17th September. Given where James was shot down, John would have had only moments to process what had occurred before being forced to leave his body and join the 34th’s retreat from the Rebel assault. In contrast to his brother, John Donohue was destined to come through the war unscathed. He saw out the remainder of his two years service with the 34th and mustered out with them after the Battle of Chancellorsville. In September 1863 he re-enlisted, but had clearly seen enough of the infantryman’s war. Instead he plumped for the 20th New York Cavalry, where he rose to the rank of Quartermaster-Sergeant by the time of his muster out in July 1865. John outlived his brother by 45 years, passing away in 1907. Back in 1862 West Troy, Emeline first learned of her eldest son’s fate through the local newspapers. Eventually she would be given a printed list that recorded the burial places of some of the 34th’s number, a document that informed her James was one of four from the regiment interred just to the north of the Dunker Church, presumably close to where they had fallen. Not long afterwards James Donohue’s remains were moved to the new Antietam National Cemetery, where he rests today. (4)

After James’s death, Emeline sought a pension based on her son’s service. Her claim was accepted in 1863, but in 1864 her payments suddenly stopped. She soon discovered the cause- a rival application received by the Pension Bureau. A woman called Harriet A. Donohue had emerged, stating that she had married James in Ballston Spa, New York in 1858 (some of the unsubmitted documents relating to Harriet’s claim recently came up for sale, see here and here). If Harriet proved herself to be James’s widow, her claim would take precedence over Emeline’s. In combating Harriet’s claim-a woman Emaline said she did not know-the fallen soldier’s mother gave statements to the effect that her son had worked out of state for a number of years prior to the war, and so could not be the same man referred to by Harriet. To prove her son was one and the same with the James Donohue who fell in the ranks of the 34th New York, Emaline decided to copy a cherished image she held of her son in uniform. On submitting it in 1865, she described it as a “true, correct and faithful likeness” of James, “a faithful copy of an original likeness…taken after his enlistment and now in the possession of this deponent [Emaline]”. She reinforced the mounting evidence in her favour in 1866, when she supplied the Bureau with the printed Antietam burial details, or as Emaline described it a “printed list with his name among the number”. On the page James’s entry was highlighted for the Bureau’s attention. Ultimately Emaline’s efforts proved successful. The application of Harriet A. Donohue was rejected, and Emaline’s pension payments were restored. She would continue to receive them for the many decades of life that remained left to her. (5)

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(1) Pension File, 1850 Census; (2) Pension File, Muster Roll Abstracts; (3) Antietam on the Web: 34th New York Infantry, Chapin 1903: 62-65; (4) Pension File, New York Muster Roll Abstracts, New York Adjutant-General Reports, Civil War Pension Index Cards; (5) Pension File;

* None of my work on pensions would be possible without the exceptional effort in the National Archives to digitize this material and make it available online. A team of archivists from NARA supported by volunteers have enabled access to this treasure trove of historical information. To learn more about their work you can watch a video by clicking here.

Bibliography

1850 Federal Census

New York Muster Roll Abstracts

New York Adjutant-General’s Reports

Civil War Pension Index Cards

Antietam on the Web: 34th New York Infantry

James Donohue Pension File

Louis N. Chapin. A Brief History of the Thirty-Fourth Regiment, N.Y.S.V. Embracing A Complete Roster of All Officers and Men and A Full Account of the Dedication of the Monument on the Battlefield of Antietam September 17, 1902.

Find A Grave: James Donohue

I am delighted to have an opportunity to share another guest post with readers, this time from Meg Groeling. Many of you will know Meg as a regular contributor to the Emerging Civil War blog and as an expert on Elmer Ellsworth and the 11th New York Infantry– a formation that itself contained many Irish. The firemen of the 11th fought alongside the 69th New York State Militia at Bull Run, and one of their number–Jack Wildey–dramatically saved the 69th’s colors. This event quickly became a famous incident in the 69th’s history, and because of that I have long wondered about Wildey’s backstory. In the post below, Meg fills us in on both Captain Wildey’s career and the fascinating regiment in which he served.

Perhaps the 69th New York is today’s favorite Civil War Irish regiment, but it was not always so. In 1861 New York City and the rest of the Union northeast was all gaga over the 11th New York—Colonel Elmer Ellsworth’s Fire Zouaves. Much of this was due to the tour made the previous summer by the U. S. Zouave Cadets, a group of athletic young militiamen from Chicago who performed an entertaining version of the French Zouave drill under the direction of 23-year-old Elmer Ellsworth. The rest of it was due to the general popularity of New York City’s renowned volunteer firefighters. The majority of these men were the sons and grandsons of Irish immigrants.

Although Ellsworth had less than a drop of Irish blood in his veins, his contribution to the early war efforts features a unique slice of Irish history. When Confederate General P. G. T. Beauregard attacked Fort Sumter, Ellsworth was in bed at Willards Hotel in Washington, DC. recovering from a case of measles. Ellsworth quickly left his sickbed and went to President Lincoln for a letter of recommendation to New York Tribune editor Horace Greeley. Ellsworth told Lincoln:

I want the New York firemen, for there are no more effective men in the country, and none with whom I can do so much. They are sleeping on a volcano at Washington, and I want men who are ready at any moment to plunge into the thickest of the fight. (1)

Ellsworth based his decision to recruit New York firefighters on several good reasons, coupled with personal experience. He had been instrumental in the choosing and training of three hundred men in Chicago for the Chicago Fire Brigade. He knew that firefighters were trained to work together as a single unit, each doing his duty, and keeping an eye on the men around him. They could respond quickly, obey orders, organize, and execute upon command. Ellsworth believed men with these attributes would make good soldiers. With Greeley’s help and encouragement, Ellsworth immediately placed ads in newspapers and blanketed the city with posters. Two days after arriving in New York, he awarded officer commissions to New York City Fire Company leaders and to former members of the U. S. Zouave Cadets, several of whom had agreed to help him in his endeavor. Then Ellsworth began recruiting in earnest.

In 1861, like all other large cities at the time, New York’s fire department was a volunteer organization staffed by “b’hoys” from a variety of mostly Irish backgrounds. They responded when their district’s fire tower sounded an alarm and ran with the masheen to the site of the fire. The physical exertion required to run a colossal fire engine through the streets and then pump water, climb ladders, and pull hoses meant that the volunteers were in already in good physical shape. Although these rough Irish b’hoys were of varying political viewpoints and, like many New Yorkers, may have initially felt a Democratic sympathy toward the South, the attack on Fort Sumter caused New York to fall firmly in line on the side of the Union. Within three days of his arrival, Ellsworth had at least 1,200 men signed up for a tour of duty lasting ninety days. The New York Leader, April 27, 1861, printed a compilation of Ellsworth’s efforts:

Colonel Ellsworth and his officers have been active in preparing this regiment for service. More work has been done in six days than seemed possible. The men have been mustered into service; the officers elected; the uniforms made, and on Sunday afternoon eleven hundred as efficient and hardy soldiers as ever handled a gun, will start for the scene of rebellion. Col. Ellsworth arrived in this city on Thursday of last week. On Friday he called together a number of the principal men of the department. On Saturday he selected his officers. On Sunday he mustered one thousand men. On Monday he drilled them. On Tuesday inspected them. On Wednesday commenced giving them clothes. On Thursday had them in quarters, and yesterday, (Friday), he was ready and waiting for supplies. Today he will receive them, and to-morrow march through the city escorted by the whole Fire Department on board the steamer Baltic direct for the seat of war. (2)

Among the men chosen by Ellsworth was John “Jack” Wildey, born on March 28, 1823, in New York City’s heavily Irish 8th Ward. The 8th was the heart of Tammany Hall, the political organization that met new immigrants at the docks. America has never had a “comprehensive immigration policy,” but the Democratic politicos under the sway of William Marcy “Boss” Tweed were not about to let that stop them. Tammany men spoke English and Irish dialects, were closely aligned with the Catholic Church, and willingly opened their world to newcomers. Tammany found places for immigrants to live, arranged for food, clothing, medical care, and employment. In exchange, the mostly Irish immigrants pledged loyalty to Tammany Hall. Their votes elected the slates of Democrats who ran New York, the most powerful city in the United States. Tammany Hall counted on the allegiance of generational supporters, and rightly so. By 1861, John Wildey had been a loyal member of Tammany Hall for most of his life.

In 1844, Wildey officially accepted his Tammany-procured job, joining the other volunteer firefighters of Engine Company Number 11. He progressed through the ranks to Chief and was considered to be a charismatic leader. Fire Chief Wildey regularly took fifty of his firemen and “their splendid engine” by steamboat to Boston to participate in a celebration of the Battle of Bunker Hill. This built recognition for not only his company but for the New York Fire Departments in general. Proving his popularity beyond his own engine house, in 1860 Wildey won a closely contested race to the New York area Board of Foreman and Engineers. At the outbreak of the Civil War, John Wildey—almost overnight–raised a company of ninety men, all of whom belonged to the Fire Department. He was elected Captain and immediately offered his men to the 11th Regiment New York Volunteers, the First Fire Zouaves. (3) Ellsworth himself signed Wildey’s enlistment papers.

New York City supported the federal army amid a tempest of enthusiasm. Every engine house turned into a recruiting station, and in some case, as many as 18-20 men volunteered from a single company. The question was not who was to go, but who was so unfortunate as to be left behind. Wildey, thirty-eight when he brought his men to Ellsworth, was immediately put in command of Company I of the First Regiment. (4) When the Fire Zouaves left New York City, they did so as a 3-month regiment, sworn in on April 20, 1861. On May 7, they were sworn in to serve for the “duration of the war.” (5) Within days, Ellsworth designated Wildey as his aide-de-camp.

Captain John Wildey was with Colonel Ellsworth the night before Ellsworth was shot in Alexandria. The Colonel asked Captain Wildey to come to his tent after 1:00 AM to help him dress for his first mission as a commanding officer. Ellsworth had laid his uniform out on the camp bed. He stood quietly, as if thinking over his choices, and then said to Captain Wildey, “I was thinking in what clothes I shall die.” Wildey laughed and tried to cheer him up with a few joking words, but Ellsworth just shook his head, saying nothing for a moment. Then, smiling, he went to his trunk and opened it. He withdrew an entirely new uniform, tagged and packaged from the tailor. “If I am to be shot tomorrow, and I have a presentment that my blood is immediately required by the country–it is in this suit that I shall die.” Wildey helped him put on the new uniform, and within moments Ellsworth was his usual confident self. Wildey wound the red silk officers’ sash around Ellsworth’s narrow waist. In fact, this was the uniform in which Ellsworth died early the next morning, May 24.

Unit cohesion in the 11th was difficult after losing Ellsworth, but leaders like (acting) Lieutenant Colonel Noah “Pony” Farnham, Major Charles Loeser, and Captain John Wildey kept the Fire Zouaves together long enough to make it to the battleground of First Bull Run. The battle was a Union loss, and the reputation of “Ellsworth’s Zouaves” was initially tarnished by regular Army officers testifying before the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War. It remained thus until recently, as historians such as Lesley J. Gordon (A Broken Regiment: The 16th Connecticut’s Civil War and “I Never was a Coward” pamphlet), and Harry Smeltzer (Bull Runnings blog) have gone back to primary sources to look for another, more accurate, interpretation. Ellsworth said before he went to New York City that he wanted the New York firemen because they were men who could go into a fight immediately. This would prove especially true for Captain Wildey.

July 21, 1861, the Battle of First Bull Run was fought. The battle lasted most of the day, but the Fire Zouaves were only involved in the afternoon attempt to defend Union batteries on Henry House Hill. Control of the field around the Henry House switched several times, but ultimately the South held sway. There was some small fighting in which the guns changed hands, but because the horses that had pulled them lay dead in their traces, no one could remove the captured pieces from the field. Finally, by 3:15 PM, after just over an hour of combat, the Confederate forces took final possession of the Union guns and the 11th New York, among others, retreated. The 11th did not “run like little girls or scared rabbits,” but they did not stay in retreat either. Many of them looked around the battlefield, identified another unit that was still fighting, and rushed to join in. Wildey joined the fellow Irishmen of the 69th New York, who were having a bad time of it. Their leader, Colonel Michael Corcoran, had been captured, yet they fought on. During this last encounter with the Confederates, Confederate Jeb Stuart’s cavalry took the beautiful green flag that was held so proudly over Irish heads. Who got it back?

At the fight at Bull Run, when the flag of the glorious Sixty-ninth Regiment was wrested from them by a superior force of the enemy, John Wildey rushed forward at the head of his brave men, and after a bloody contest, in which he killed two men,–one a rebel officer, whose sword he took from him as a trophy,–recaptured the flag, and after marching four miles he restored it to the gallant corps from whom it had been taken. (6)

Nevertheless, the Federal troops had been demoralizingly routed and, to make things worse, many ninety-day northern militia enlistments were about to expire. The Union needed heroes. As Wildey’s fame spread northward, he became one of those heroes. The gallant captain was called home to New York City, ostensibly to recruit more soldiers. However, Tammany Hall leader William “Boss” Tweed had other ideas. He needed Wildey to represent Tammany in an upcoming city election. Wildey served as one of New York City’s elected coroners—a job created to reward loyal Tammany members—and went from there to Wildey’s other passion—Base Ball. He was president of the New York Mutuals Base Ball team for several years and then became an early baseball commissioner. Wildey’s vote with the National Association of Base Ball Players was the one that pushed the count ahead to create professional baseball.

In the 1870s, the law finally caught up with “Boss” Tweed and Tammany Hall. John Wildey was one of the many hundreds called to court to testify as to the particulars of his employment and the funding of the New York Mutuals. Tweed spent time in jail, and machine politics took a severe hit in New York City. Wildey’s association with Tammany prevented him from further employment, and he gradually sank into poverty and obscurity. Four years before Wildey’s death, a history of the New York City fire departments concluded their biographical sketch of him with:

Everyone knows of Jack Wildey of ‘Black Horse Guard’ fame. He was always a great admirer of athletic sports of all kinds, and, although sixty-two years old, he would astonish some of the present generation should they try their strength against him. (7)

Captain John “Jack” Wildey, of New York City’s Engine Company Number 11, of Tammany Hall, and the 11th New York Fire Zouaves died in 1889. His obituary, although short, does not fail to mention that, “… in the Battle of First Bull Run he contributed by his bravery to saving the colors of the Sixty-ninth Regiment from capture by the rebels….” (8)

References

(1) About.com, Col. Elmer Ellsworth Became a Legend and Martyr Early in the Civil War [online version available at http://history1800s.about.com/od/civilwar/ss/Death-of-Elmer-Ellsworth_2.htm.]

(2) 11th Infantry regiment, New York, Civil War Newspaper Clippings. NYS Division of Military and Naval Affairs [online version available at http://dmna.state.ny.us/historic/reghist/cicil/infantry/11thinfCWN.htm NYSMM

(3) J. Frank Kernan, A. M., Reminiscences of the Old Fire Laddies and Volunteer Fire Departments of New York and Brooklyn Together with a Complete History of the Paid Departments of Both Cities, (New York: M. Crane, 1885), 480. [online version available through https://archive.org/details/reminiscencesol00kerngoogle]

(4) A. E. Costello, Birth of the Bravest: A History of the New York Fire Department from 1609 to 1897. (New York: Tom Doherty Associates, first published in 1887), 287.

(5) Ibid.

(6) New York Herald, July 27, 1861

(7) Frank Kernan, Reminiscences of the Old Fire Laddies and Volunteer Fire Departments of New York and Brooklyn, Together with a Complete History of the Paid Departments of Both Cities, (New York: M. Crane, 1885), 474. [online version available through https://archive.org/details/reminiscencesol00kerngoog].

(8) Obituary, “John Wildey Died in Poverty,” June 1, 1889, The New York Times.

In 1865 Ellen McCann of 87 Mulberry Street in New York’s infamous Five Points district went in search of a pension. She was not a typical widow. By the time her husband Francis had elected to join the Union cause she was already 55-years-old, and their children Annie and John were adults. Francis had been extremely economical with the truth when he enlisted in August 1863. He had claimed to be 42, but he was actually ten years older. The Sixth Ward shoemaker may have been one of the many urban Irish who experienced tough economic times during the war, or he may simply have found the increasing financial bounty on offer too difficult to resist. Whatever his motivations–one of the other McCanns in his unit may even have been his son–Francis took the fateful decision to become a private in the 18th New York Cavalry, a regiment with a heavy Irish contingent. (1)

Having initially served in the Washington Defences, the 18th Cavalry spent most of their war in the Department of the Gulf. It was there that Francis McCann died, passing away in Louisiana on 2nd September 1864. Ellen found out about her husband’s fate within a few weeks. When she commenced her efforts to obtain a pension in January 1865, she stated she was 60-years-old. In fact she was more like 57. Ellen was illiterate, and as was common among illiterate and semi-literate individuals she had a tendency to round her age up to the nearest five or ten, a process known as age-heaping. Interestingly, while Ellen’s pension application confirms her illiteracy, she is not recorded as such on the 1860 census- a discrepancy I consistently encounter. It suggests she was either partially-literate (i.e. she could read) or that the couple had chosen to conceal their illiteracy on their census return. (2)

Ellen’s first task in her quest to secure a pension was to prove her relationship with Francis. They had wed in Ardboe, Co. Tyrone on 13th February 1836 at Ellen’s family home (her maiden name was Hagan). Like nearly all Irish emigrants, when they made their new lives in New York City, the couple enjoyed their closest relationships with those from their former Irish neighbourhood. In 1865, when Ellen needed to prove her marriage, she was able to call on 66-year-old Arthur O’Brien and 35-year-old Mark O’Brien, also from Ardboe, who claimed they “were present at the house of James Hagan…and witnessed the marriage ceremony performed according to the rites of the Roman Catholic Church…by Father Peter O’Neill, the Priest.” Both the O’Briens and the McCanns had emigrated to America during the Famine, but despite the passage of years (and their semi-literacy) they were in constant contact with Ireland–Ellen was able to strengthen the O’Brien’s testimony with a certified record of her marriage from Tyrone. This serves as yet another reminder that emigrants rarely severed their ties with their native land after departure. Rather, families and communities maintained regular contact, even as the years passed into decades. (3)

Having satisfactorily proved her marriage to Francis, Ellen next had to demonstrate that her husband had died in service. Though this might seem as though it should have been straightforward, it was here that Ellen encountered her most major obstacle. It quickly became apparent that confusion reigned as to where Francis had died, and even what had ended his life. This lack of clarity prevented the Pension Bureau from granting Ellen’s claim. All through 1865 she hunted in vain for further detail. In February 1866, more than a year after her initial application, The Charity Hospital of New Orleans wrote to state that no such person as Francis McCann had ever been a patient with them, despite the fact that he was said to have died there. Neither could the Medical Director’s Office in Louisiana find any record of the Tyrone emigrant. Ellen’s problems had been compounded by the fact that the 18th New York Cavalry had remained in the field in Louisiana, Mississippi and Texas through 1865 and 1866. With none of her husband’s closest comrades or direct officers in New York, she had been unable to make contact with anyone in the regiment. Finally, more than 15 months after she had started her application, and 18 months after her husband had died, it seemed as if her fortunes were about to change. (4)

The first apparent good news arrived for Ellen in March 1866. It came when William du Bois, the First Lieutenant of Francis’s Company G wrote from San Antonio Springs in Texas. The officer’s letter finally provided particulars as to Francis’s death. Firstly, it transpired that his end had come at Thibodaux, not New Orleans. du Bois also claimed that Francis had not succumbed to illness, but in fact was a victim of “Coup du Soleil”, or sunstroke. It looked like Ellen was finally reaching critical mass with the evidence she was gathering, particularly as she and her agents had also tracked down the former surgeon of the 18th New York, Robert P. Murphy. Surely a letter from him, when combined with that of du Bois, would be enough to satisfy the Bureau. But they would have to wait– as Murphy’s correspondence had to travel from Ireland. (5)

Robert P. Murphy had been 23-years-old when he mustered into the 18th in October 1863. The surgeon served continually with the regiment until he was mustered out at Victoria, Texas, on 31st May 1866, whereupon he almost immediately departed for Ireland. By the time he was alerted to Ellen’s plight he was already back in Dublin– indeed the fact that she managed to track him down at all was a substantial feat. Eager to help, he penned a letter for Ellen from the Royal College of Surgeons on Dublin’s St. Stephen’s Green:

Royal College of Surgeons

Dublin

September 29th 1866

I Robert P. Murphy member of the Royal College of Surgeons Ireland late Surgeon of 18th New York Volunteer Cavalry do hereby affirm to the best of my knowledge and belief that Francis McCann a private of Co G 18th New York Cavalry died at Thibodaux LA on or about the 2d day of September 1864 from injuries received (while in discharge of his duties) by a fall from his horse. At which time I was the Medical Officer in charge of the regiment.

R.P. Murphy M.R.C.S.I.

Late Surgeon 18 New York Vol. Cav. (6)

Murphy’s letter is unique in my experience in the files, in that it was provided by an officer who had left the United States in order to aid a fellow Irish family who had remained in America. It is testament to the strong bonds of camaraderie that tied servicemen together, as it was surely one of the other members of the regiment who supplied Ellen with his contact details. Unfortunately, despite Robert Murphy’s good intentions, his letter did more harm than good. Rather than assuage the Pension Bureau’s concerns, it served only to heighten them. The surgeon’s assertion that Francis has died as a result of a fall from his horse did not tally with Lieutenant du Bois’s claim that he had succumbed to heatstroke. The Bureau could not be satisfied that the two officers were referring to the same man. Ellen had no choice but to renew her search for information. (7)

In the end, it would be February 1868 before Ellen secured the testimony that at last pushed her claim across the line. Somewhat ironically, the key evidence came from an officer who had been dishonorably dismissed from the service in November 1864. His name was Lieutenant Samuel Curran; despite his wartime tribulations his recollection proved decisive. In his statement he recalled Francis distinctly, relating that he had died of “camp fever after a few days sickness”. Although yet another variant on Francis’s cause of death, the cumulative evidence of three different officers proved sufficient to satisfy the Bureau. They finally approved Ellen’s pension claim in December 1868, more than four years after Francis’s death. The Tyrone woman could finally begin to collect her $8 a month from her new home in Philadelphia, and begin to move on with her life. (8)

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(1) Francis McCann Pension File, 1860 Census, New York Muster Roll Abstracts, New York Adjutant General Reports; (2) Pension File, 1860 Census; (3) Pension File; (4) Ibid.; (5) Ibid.; (6) Ibid.; (7) Ibid.; (8) Ibid.;

References

1860 U.S. Federal Census, New York Ward 6, District 2.

Francis McCann’s Widow’s Pension File.

New York Adjutant General Roster of the 18th New York Cavalry.

New York Muster Roll Abstracts.

Amputation, as one historian has noted, is the “symbolic wound” of the American Civil War. One estimate places the number of wartime amputations at 60,000, three-quarters of all the operations undertaken during the conflict. Around 45,000 of these men are thought to have survived. Often regarded as the quintessential symbol of the conflict’s butchery, a popular image has endured of half-trained surgeons lopping off limbs of soldiers forced to acquiesce in unanaesthetised agony. In recent years new scholarship and public history programmes are challenging many of these stereotypes, such as the myth surrounding the absence of sedatives. Although there were some horror stories, there can be little doubt that amputation saved thousands of lives. This is brought into stark relief when we encounter the cases of some of those who did not have amputative surgery. In this post we take a look at five such men, three Pennsylvania Irish and two New York Irish, who for differing reasons did not go under the surgeon’s saw–with mixed results. (1)

Private John Fleming, Company E, 81st Pennsylvania Infantry, Fredericksburg

Irish emigrant John Fleming left behind his Irish-born wife Jane and daughters Margaret (b. 1857) and Rachel (b. 1859) in Philadelphia’s 13th Ward to enlist in the 81st Pennsylvania. The couple had married in Schuylkill Falls in 1849. At Fredericksburg on 13th December 1862 the regiment were part of John Caldwell’s First Brigade, Hancock’s First Division of the Second Corps. John had to step over the bodies of his countrymen from the Irish Brigade as he marched forward towards Marye’s Heights directly in their wake. Somewhere during the assault, he was struck in the foot. John was evacuated to Stone Hospital in Washington D.C., where the following letter was written just over a month later:

Washington DC Jan 16th/63

Mrs. Fleming,

Dear Madam. Yours was duly rec’d of the 2nd and now I hasten to answer you. This morning at half past one o’clock your husband died, and will be buried to day at the Soldiers burying ground. Before he died he said he would like to see his wife. I asked him concerning those papers all that I could get him to say was that he told you before he left home. When he came here he had a bad foot which had ought to of been amputated on the battle field. It was in the state of mortification. There was all done for him that could be done. When he came here he had forty dollars and yesterday I sent it by express to you and I would be happy to learn wether you receive it. I enclose you the receipt.

Yours Respectfully

J. Lamarency

P.S. If there is any thing more you wish to know I would be happy to inform you. (2)

Preventing the mortification that cost John his life was precisely the reason that amputation was so common during the Civil War. In this case, for whatever reason, the foot was not removed. It was a decision that ultimately cost John Fleming his life.

Private Arthur Mulholland, 69th Pennsylvania Infantry, Company F, Gettysburg

Irish-born labourer Arthur Mulholland had departed Philadelphia’s 8th Ward to join the Irish regiment in 1861. At home were his wife Mary, whom he had married in 1842, and at least one minor child, Ellen (b. 1853). After more than two years of service, it looked like Arthur was headed home, as an injury to his leg in June 1863 caused him to be granted a discharge for disability. But before it could be fully processed Arthur and the regiment were on the march, headed for Pennsylvania and a showdown with Robert E. Lee at Gettysburg. On the climactic third day of the action, he and the 69th were in position at The Angle, the very vortex of the Pickett-Pettigrew-Trimble charge. Arthur became one of only a handful of 69th men to be captured, carried back across the field into Rebel lines and a future as a Prisoner of War. Though accounts as to his fate varied, he seems to have eventually succumbed while incarcerated in Andersonville. His wife Mary later heard the following version:

…he was captured at the Battle of Gettysburg he was then taken to Belle Island Richmond Va…before his capture he was hit on the leg by a piece of a flying rail when he got to Richmond his leg mortified from the effects of the wound and they wanted to amputate his leg but he would not let them they then sent him to Andersonville where after confinement for some time he died and was buried there. (3)

Arthur was far from the only soldier to refuse amputation, particularly when it was being offered by enemy surgeons. Whether his was the right choice or not is impossible to determine; his fate may have been sealed either way. However, it is probable that had his limb been amputated in Richmond he would have been exchanged, in the process escaping a transfer to Andersonville– a move that proved to be a death sentence.

Corporal Andy Ward, 54th Pennsylvania Infantry, Company E, Third Winchester

23-year-old illiterate Irish emigrant labourer Andy Ward was enrolled in the 54th Pennsylvania on 7th March 1864. He had left his almost 70-year-old mother Rose and younger sister Nancy at home in Conemaugh, Cambria County, Pennsylvania. Now part of the Army of West Virginia, Andy was brigaded with his fellow Irishmen of the 23rd Illinois, “Mulligan’s Irish Brigade”. He spent most of his service in the Shenandoah Valley, and had already come through some bloody battles before the Battle of Third Winchester/Opequon on 19th September 1864, where he was gunned down. Three weeks later, the following was penned to his mother:

Headquarters 2d Div Hospital Army West Va.

South Church Hospital

Winchester Va October 11th 1864

Miss Worosey Ward

Your letter to Andy Ward came into my hands today, but not till some two hours after Andy’s death. Andrew Ward died in South Church Hospital at 10 O’Clock this morning, after suffering intinsely three weeks from a wound of the left thigh, which fractured the bone so near the body, we could not hope for an amputation being successful, although he often wished us to amputate, as he suffered so much. He was burried in, or near the Methodist Cemetery where all the Union boys lay, making a long row who have fallen in the cause of their Country.

I also enclose three finger rings two of them broken, but he wished them sent to his Mother. He had not money, clothing, or other valuables, and made no expression of any thing except the finger rings.

We had hoped he would recover until three days ago, but when I told him he could not live, he seemed contented, not frightened, and this morning the Priest was with him for some time, as he requested it.

I sincerely sympathize with you in the loss of your noble son and brother, for I am sure he was a good kind brother and son, from the manner in which he spoke of his mother. Having had none except an hospital acquaintance with him, I belong to the 91st Ohio Reg, but feeling you would gladly learn anything concerning him, have taken the liberty to open your letter to him and will enclose it with this.

Very Respectfully

W.G. Newton A. Lurg 91st Reg

In Charge 2d Div Hospl 8th A.C. (4)

Andy was clearly desperate for amputation, a marker of the intense pain which the young man was feeling. But the location of his injury precluded it as an option, and so his fate was sealed.

Private Thomas Hughes, Company K, 69th New York State Militia & Corporal Thomas Fagan, Company B, 14th Brooklyn, First Bull Run

In the case of each of the three Pennsylvania Irishmen, their inability or refusal to have an amputation contributed towards their deaths. But such decisions did not always end badly. A case in point is the story of Thomas Fagan and Thomas Hughes. Fagan had been shot in the left arm at First Bull Run, Hughes in the right. The former takes up their story:

[I was] wounded at the Battle of Bull Run, Va., July 21, 1861, in the left arm. [I] was then taken prisoner by the enemy, and taken to Centreville, Va., where [I] met…Hughes for the first time, and Hughes then told [me]…he had been wounded in the same battle in the right arm and side. While at…Centreville, in rebel-hospital, both suffering from their wounds, they were told that the Surgeons would come around the next morning. They were advised to consent to the amputation of their arms, and were told that otherwise the probability was that mortification would set in and cause death. [I] and…Hughes spent the entire night, consulting with each other and considering the matter in all its bearings, and finally decided to run the risk of mortification, and not to consent to amputation. This night and the attendant circumstances will never pass from [my] memory. (5)

For both Thomas Fagan and Thomas Hughes, the decision they made after that agonising night proved to be the correct one. Both survived and recovered. Thomas Hughes even went on to enlist in the 155th New York Infantry, Corcoran’s Irish Legion, only to be wounded once more in an almost identical location at Petersburg on 22nd June 1864.

Thousands of Irish Americans had to grapple with decisions over amputation during the Civil War. Though that decision was occasionally theirs to make, often circumstance took it out of their hands, as it did for Andy Ward. In many instances, a failure or inability to amputate cost men their lives. For others, particularly early in the war when surgical methodologies were more haphazard, their decision to reject medical advice paid off. Yet every one of those who made that choice–men like Thomas Fagan and Thomas Hughes–knew that it was a gamble that could cost them their lives.

The research that is made available on the Irish American Civil War website is entirely self-financed. If you would like to support the work and upkeep of this site you can do so via my Patreon site for as little as $1 a month at patreon.com/irishacw, or by making a one-off donation to the site’s running costs via the PayPal button in the sidebar.

1) Grant 2014: 701, Figg & Farrell-Beck 1993: 454: (2) John Fleming File, 1860 Census; (3) Arthur Mulholland File, 1860 Census; (4) Andy Ward FIle, 1860 Census; (5) Thomas Hughes File;

References

John Fleming File.

Arthur Mulholland File.

Andy Ward File.

Thomas Hughes File.

Laurann Figg and Jane Farrell-Beck 1993. “Amputation in the Civil War Physical and Social Dimensions” in Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, Volume 48, Issue 4, October 1993.

Susan-Mary Grant 2014. “‘Mortal in this Season’: Union Surgeons and the Narrative of Medical Modernisation in the American Civil War” in Social History of Medicine 2014, Volume 27 (2).

In 1869 the New York Irish-American Weekly came out on Christmas Day. As with every week’s issue, a portion of the paper was given over to “Information Wanted” advertisements. Most often placed by family and friends, these notices were usually attempts by emigrants to enlist the wider Irish American community in efforts to re-establish contact with their relatives. The brief stories they tell can be heart-breaking, as parents and siblings sought news of immediate family from whom they had often not heard in years. Such absences would have been felt especially keenly felt at Christmas. The post below reproduces the Information Wanted Ads from this week 150 years ago, and examines what we can uncover about both these families and Irish American life through reading them.

INFORMATION WANTED Of Henry Martin. When last seen was at 19 Nevin Street, Brooklyn, N.Y., last June. Any information received by his sister Norah Martin, 154 Front street, Hartford, Conn.

INFORMATION WANTED Of William Finlan, who left Hara on the 19th of March last, for Baraboo Wis.; was a constant workman at jack spinning in a woolen factory. He left that place and nothing has been heard of him since. Any information of him, dead or alive, will be thankfully received by his wife, Mrs. Mary Ann Finlan, at West Eaton, Madison Co., N.Y. Eastern and Western papers please copy.

It was relatively common among Irish emigrants for the main breadwinner to travel far and wide in search of employment. For those on the east coast, those opportunities often lay in the Midwest. The Finlans may have intended to move all the family out west once William was established, or perhaps he was simply seeking a short-term opportunity to remit money back to New York. Either way, it seems Mary Ann still had no news of William by the time the census enumerators called on her in July 1870. The reason she was desperate for information from her husband was readily apparent. The 29-year-old Irish emigrant was providing for five young children. Her eldest, 10-year-old Edward, had already gone to work in the local mill to supplement the household income. 9-year-old William was still at school, though he was likely about to also enter the workforce. In addition, Mary Ann was providing for 6-year-old James, 3-year-old Thomas, and 2-year-old Mary Ann.

INFORMATION WANTED Of Michael Cain, who left Walsal, Staffordshire, England on 1st of May, 1865. Was in Deposit two years ago, last May; and when last heard from was in Boston, Mass. Any information of him will be thankfully received by his father, Hugh Cain, and his brother, John Cain, at 32 Marshal street, Paterson, New Jersey. Boston papers please copy.

The Cain family are a prime example of Irish step-migrants. The entire group had been born in Ireland, but all of them were living in Walsall in England when the 1861 Census was taken. In 1861 they were in that town’s “Foreign Ward”, where 48-year-old Hugh was “jobbing”. In the household with him was his 47-year-old wife Bridget, his 20-year-old son John and 17-year-old son Michael (the subject of the ad, whose departure was imminent), both of whom worked as painters, Hugh’s 25-year-old Irish-born niece Catherine Barlow, who worked in the buckle industry, and his 25-year-old nephew Martin Beaty, also a painter. It was common for single men and women to board with other Irish families, and in that way contribute towards the household– this was particularly the case if they were related. During the 1860s, all of the Cains would move to America.

GALWAY

Michael Casey will be much obliged to any person who can give information of his sister Delia Casey, native of county Galway, born in the parish of Clarron, near Headford, who sailed from Ireland about two years ago from this country. When last heard of was living in Brooklyn. Her father was agent for Captain Carter, of Dublin. All communications will please be addressed to this office.

INFORMATION WANTED OF Patrick Cosgruth, of the Parish of Clonfert, County Galway, Ireland. The last letter was received from him when he was in Mount Savage, Maryland. Any information concerning him will be thankfully received by Michael Quirk, Johnstown, Cambria County, Pa. Iowa papers please copy.

TIPPERARY

INFORMATION WANTED Of Bridget Muclahy, who left Cashel, County of Tipperary, Ireland, about twenty years ago. When last heard from she was married to James Skeahan, and residing in Springfield, Mass. Any information respecting her, dead or alive, will he thankfully received by her mother, Catherine Glashine, now resident in Bloomington, Illinois. Please address William Hackett, Bloomington, Ill.

It seems probable that Catherine “Glashine” was actually Catherine Gleeson. In the 1870 Census, she was 53-years-old, keeping house in Bloomington with her 20-year-old son Patrick, a laborer, and 16-year-old son Michael. Although she had not seen Bridget in 20 years, Catherine had herself been in the country for a considerable length of time. While Patrick had been born in Ireland, Michael had come along when Catherine was in Ohio. One of the reasons she may have sought the assistance of William Hackett is that Catherine was illiterate. In addition, the Hacketts were also all Irish, and may well also have been from the Cashel area.

MEATH

INFORMATION WANTED Of the Widow Newman, maiden name Anne Masterson, formerly of the parish of Duderry, County Meath, Ireland. When last heard from lived in North Fourth street, Williamsburg, Long Island; or, JOHN NEWMAN or family, who lived in Prince street, New York. Any information of them will be thankfully received by their cousin, Michael Newman, son of James Newman, Ottawa Post-Office, Lasselle [La Salle] County, State of Illinois. Williamsburg and New York papers please copy.

Whether Michael ever found Anne is unknown. In 1880 he was still living in La Salle County, where he had a farm in Allen. His children told the story of his step-journey westwards. In 1880 along with his 47-year-old Irish-born wife Emma the 47-year-old lived with his 23-year-old housekeeper daughter Mary, born in Pennsylvania, and 21-year-old Annie, 17-year-old Michael, 16-year-old Martin, 14-year-old Thomas and 11-year-old William, all of whom had been born after they arrived in Illinois.

ROSCOMMON

INFORMATION WANTED Of Thomas Mulvee, a native of Skrine, Parish of Kilmane, County of Roscommon, Ireland, who came to this country about four years ago. When last heard from he was in Chicago, State of Illinois. Any information of him will be thankfully received by his brother, Michael Mulvee, 500 West street, New York. Chicago papers please copy.

INFORMATION WANTED Of Thomas Mulvaa, a native of Schrina, parish of Kilmane, county Roscommon, Ireland, who came to this country about four years ago. When last heard from he was in Chicago, Ill. Information of him will be thankfully received by Michael Mulvaa, 500 West street, New York.

Both of the above were printed in the Christmas Day issue of the Irish-American, even though they are clearly ads for the same individual. It would seem to be an error on the part of the editor, but it does reveal that the newspaper mediated advertisements, sometimes re-wording ads they obtained from semi-literate individuals. The second advertisement seems likely to be closer to what Michael originally submitted, as it is more phonetic in spelling– for example “Mulvaa” and “Schrina”. The surname is most commonly rendered today as “Mulvey”. This ad also serves as a good example for the extreme variability in how people spelt their own surnames in the nineteenth century.

DOWN

INFORMATION WANTED Of John, Hugh, and Cecelia Morgan, natives of the parish of Kilcoo, Co. Down Ireland, who immigrated to this country upwards of twenty years ago. When last heard from they were in the town of China, Wyoming Co., N.Y. Any information respecting them will be thankfully received by their nephew, Francis Morgan, residing at Stamford, Conn.

It seems likely that Francis had a successful response to this ad, as Hugh Morgan is recorded in Java, Wyoming County in 1870. He was a 50-year-old farmer, living with his Irish-born wife, 40-year-old Mary, and children Mary Jane (16), Ellen (14), Thomas (12), all of whom worked on the farm, Mary (10) and William (8), who were at school, and toddler Susan (2). All the children had been born in New York. Although their sons and daughters had to leave education young to help with the property, they still had better educational opportunities than Hugh and Mary, both of whom were unable to read and write.

The research that is made available on the Irish American Civil War website is entirely self-financed. If you would like to support the work and upkeep of this site you can do so via my Patreon site for as little as $1 a month at patreon.com/irishacw, or by making a one-off donation to the site’s running costs via the “Donate” button in the sidebar.

References

New York Irish American Weekly 25th December 1869.

1880 U.S. Federal Census.

1870 U.S. Federal Census.

1861 English Census.

Brigadier-General Michael Corocoran was one of the most famous Irish Americans of the 19th century. He led the 69th New York State Militia at Bull Run, and in the months of captivity that followed he became a hero of the Union. Upon his release, he formed Corcoran’s Irish Legion, which joined the Irish Brigade as the only other ethnic-Irish formation of that size in the conflict.

As many readers are aware, Michael Corcoran was born in Carrowkeel, near Ballymote, Co. Sligo in 1827. In 1846 he joined the Revenue Police, a force whose primary task was to crack down on illicit alcohol production. Michael was posted to Creeslough, Co. Donegal, where his interactions with local Ribbonmen saw him become increasingly radicalised (you can see Creeslough and some of the other parts of Michael Corcoran’s Ireland here). He ultimately joined them, and when the Revenue Police grew suspicious of his activities in 1849 he decided to leave Ireland for America. The rest, as they say, is history.

Some time ago I took the opportunity to have a look for Michael in some of the Revenue Police records, which have been digitised by Find My Past. The future Union General is recorded a number of times in the Minutes of Appointment of the organisation. I am sharing three of the entries below, all of which were significant milestones in Michael Corcoran’s life. They provide us with a glimpse of some of the earliest historical references to the man who would soon become such a leading figure in the world of the New York Irish.

The research and cost-of-running of the Irish American Civil War website is self-financed. If you would like to support the work and upkeep of this site you can do so via my Patreon site for as little as $1 a month at patreon.com/irishacw, or by making a one-off donation to the site’s running costs via the “Donate” button in the right-hand sidebar.