A Civil War Surgeon & Prisoner of War

By Susan Martin, Collection Services

The Joseph H. Hayward family papersis one of five collections on deposit at the MHS from the Mary M. B. Wakefield Charitable Trust. The collection contains over two centuries of correspondence, diaries, sketchbooks, and other personal papers of members of the Hayward family of Milton, Mass., including Civil War surgeon John McLean Hayward (1837-1886).

John McLean Hayward, or “Mac,” graduated from Harvard Medical School in 1858. His family had already produced a number of doctors, including his father Joshua Henshaw Hayward, his uncle George Hayward, and his grandfather Lemuel Hayward. While still in his twenties, Mac was commissioned surgeon of the 12th Regiment of Massachusetts Infantry, otherwise known as the “Webster Regiment” after its first commander Col. Fletcher Webster. Mac served with distinction at Bull Run, Antietam, and other battles.

Unfortunately, on 19 November 1862, he was captured by the Confederate Army at Warrenton, Va. The Hayward collection contains some fascinating documents related to this incident, including the certificate of his parole, signed by Capt. Robert Randolph of the Black Horse Troop, 4th Virginia Cavalry. On the reverse of this document is a note granting Hayward passage “from Confederate into Federal lines.”

 

 

Hayward’s capture was complicated by the fact that he served as a non-combatant. General Order No. 60, issued on 6 June 1862 by the U.S. War Department, stated in no uncertain terms that medical personnel were off-limits. Paragraph 4 of the order read: “The principle being recognized that medical officers should not be held as prisoners of war it is hereby directed that all medical officers so held by the United States shall be immediately and unconditionally discharged.” On 26 June, the Confederate States of America did the same with its General Order No. 45.

On 26 November 1862, Hayward forwarded his parole to the assistant adjutant general in Washington, enclosed in a letter describing the circumstances of his capture. He explained that he had been ill for some time. When the 12th Regiment had decamped from Warrenton, he stayed behind to recuperate and was captured when Confederate troops marched into town. He wrote, “On the 19th Gen. Steward [Jeb Stuart] arrived and demanded my parole. I at first refused to give it on the ground that I was a surgeon and could not be paroled, but Steward took the ground that as I was not in charge of any sick at Warrenton I should be treated like any other officer in the same circumstance and if I refused my parole I should go a prisoner to Richmond.”

Annotations on the back of Hayward’s letter show a series of referrals. In just three days, the letter made its way to the Commissary-General of Prisoners Col. William Hoffman, then to Lt. Col. William H. Ludlow at Fort Monroe, Agent for Exchange of Prisoners. In his referral to Ludlow, Hoffman wrote, “This case comes clearly under Order No. 60, June 6th par. 4 – and Dr. Hayward should be released.” Ludlow agreed, writing, “The parole given by Dr. Hayward is null and void.”

Hayward eventually returned to his regiment, but had to resign his commission in April 1863 due to poor health. After serving for a short time as post surgeon at the Long Island conscript camp in Boston Harbor, he opened a private practice in Boston. In an interesting postscript to his Civil War service, documents in the collection indicate that, on 26 March 1864, he exhibited an invention to the Suffolk District Medical Society – a “mule ambulance” of his own design. The society immediately approved his invention for submission to the War Department.

John McLean Hayward was clearly well-respected as a doctor and a military man. His friend Col. James L. Bates, speaking on behalf of the regiment in a letter to the surgeon general, described Hayward as “a gentleman whom we all love and esteem, and in whose skill in surgery and medicine we have an unbounded faith.”

To learn more about the Hayward family, please visit the MHS library.

Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch, Post 17

By Elaine Grublin

The following excerpt is from the diary of Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch.

Saturday, Oct. 26th, 1862

Of public affairs, the chief have been the defeat of the rebels near Sharpsburg & elsewhere, & their evacuation of Maryland and Kentucky, – and the President’s emancipation proclamation. This measure I approve, though with some hesitation. A year since, I was much opposed to such a thing, lest it should disgrace our case by the horrors of a servile war; but the south are now in arms & can defend their homes if they please; it will therefore only weaken the force which they bring against us; and the danger of a servile war is eclipsed by the nearer and worse danger of national destruction. The President does not call on the slaves to rise; and he gives the rebels three months’ warning before his promise of freedom to the slaves goes into operation. Our hope is, it will be a means of weakening their force and dividing their counsels, and that our forces may advance, & put down the rebellion & slavery together…I chronicle, with decided disapproval, the formation of a party here, – old acquaintances under a new name, – called ‘the People’s party.’ The object is to displace Gov. Andrew and Senator Sumner, – and such men; the pretence is, to support the president. He does not seek to be supported against his best friends.

“Death and the Civil War” airs on PBS

By Elaine Grublin

Last night I eagerly watched as American Experience debuted “Death and the Civil War,” a documentary film based on the remarkable This Republic of Suffering (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2008) by Drew Gilpin Faust. My eagerness was generated in part by my personal interest in the Civil War, and in part because this past spring I had the pleasure of working with Emmy Award winning documentary filmmaker Ric Burns and a wonderful production team from Steeplechase Films when they visited the MHS to work on this project. I assisted them in selecting documents and artifacts for filming and had the special opportunity of supervising the filming process in the Society’s Dowse Library. What an eye opening experience!  Seeing the care and time invested in the selection and filming, all the while knowing the MHS material only represented a small portion of the total material needed for the two hour film, left me with a deeper appreciation for those that research and create documentary films. 

So last night, I was anxious to see which MHS materials made the final cut and was thrilled to see a large number of our resources were used to tell portions of the story.  MHS materials feature prominently in two segments of the film. In the segment “Dying” a letter written by Wilder Dwight to his mother Elizabeth Dwight (available on our website), begun “in the saddle” at the opening of the Battle of Antietam and finished as he lay mortally wounded on that field, is read aloud while the letter and a photograph of Dwight are featured on screen.

Later in the film the story of Nathaniel Bowditch, a Massachusetts soldier mortally wounded at the Battle of Kelly’s Ford, and his father Henry Bowditch, who championed improvement of the ambulance service available to soldiers after the death of his son, weaves through the segment “Naming.”  This segment includes images of both Nathaniel and Henry Bowditch, a panning shot featuring a number of personal items belonging to “Nat” from the Bowditch Cabinet, as well as an assortment of items – the “terrible telegram” and the annotated map of Virginia showing the site of the younger Bowditch’s death, among others — contained in the Nathaniel Bowditch Memorial Collection.   

If you missed the episode, look for it to re-air on PBS or watch it online. You will be glad that you did. 

Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch, Post 16

By Elaine Grublin

The following excerpt is from the diary of Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch.

Friday, Sept. 19th, 1862

The war, – whose burden has lain on our spirits through this anxious period, will find more enduring records than this. The retreat of McClellan from the peninsula, & the battles near Washington, – the irruption of the rebel army into Maryland, have followed each other in sad succession. We have been saddened, besides other losses of more distinguished officers, to hear of that of Lieut. W. R. Porter, a young man of this town, known to us personally.

Come back to the Beehive in October to read Bulfinch’s thoughts on the Emancipation Proclamation and the upcoming gubernatorial election. 

Bostonians Respond to Union Loss at 2nd Bull Run

By Jim Connolly, Publications

31 August 1862 was a remarkable day in Boston—one full of anxiety and activity. News reached town that day of the Union’s devastating defeat at the Second Battle of Bull Run. The battle, which took place in Virginia from 28 to 30 August, resulted in approximately 15,000 casualties, the vast majority suffered by Union soldiers. Bostonians responded with a diligent relief effort.

Nothing in the historical record captures the mood of such a moment like a good diarist. Caroline Healey Dall (whom I’ve blogged about before) was an excellent one, and her journal, which lives at the MHS, gives us a bracing account.

I heard Mr Clarke preach, yet hardly heard him, for I longed for the service to be over, that I might hurry home to help prepare lint & bandages.

….

No one who was in Boston today—will ever forget it. No one but will be proud to own it as a birth place. The car which I took from Dover St. to Court—was crowded to a crush with women & bundles. Most of them were weeping. “Give way,” said rough men to each other, “those bundles are sacred.” When we got to the Tremont House—a dense crowd had pressed between it & the Hall. All were eagerly gaping for rumors. About the Tremont Temple a semi-circular rope was stretched enclosing several hundreds of cubic feet. At Three Tables, placed in the center & at each end, men took down subscriptions for the freight fund. Within on the side walk immense boxes were being packed. In the building 1800 women sewed all day.

….

In the car that went to Medford every body was bitterly depressed. The women thought—that if we conquered in the end, the life of the Camp would ruin our young men, that they would come home coarse, licentious cruel. I could not stand this, and the end was, that I appealed aloud to the women, in a plea lasting—partly in a conversational way, nearly the whole time we were coming out, as to the moral end of the war. How moved the whole population were we can judge from the fact, that one could hear a pin drop in that rattling car—& there was not a smile at me on man’s or woman’s face.

If the news of the Second Battle of Bull Run and the mad rush to send relief were not cause enough for emotional turmoil, the day held yet another significant—and personal—event for Dall. That morning, her husband, the Unitarian minister Charles Dall, arrived in the ship Panther from Calcutta, where he had been engaged in missionary work since 1855 and where he would live until his death in 1886. This was the first of his four trips home over 31 years. But in the confusion of the day, their paths did not cross.

Willie came out at dusk to tell me, that his father would not get up till tomorrow. I was surprised to find that in the general distress, I had forgotten my private pain, not having thought of the Panther, after thinking of nothing else for months, since I heard she was in the bay.

To learn more about Dall and her materials at the MHS, check out the Caroline Wells Healey Dall Papers 1811-1917: Guide to the Microfilm Edition. We are pleased to work with editor Helen R. Deese to produce the four-volume Selected Journals of Caroline Healey Dall, of which Volume I (1838–1855) is available and Volume II (1855–1866) is in preparation. The excerpts above are taken from the 31 August 1862 entry in volume 25 of Dall’s journals, which covers 24 April 1860 to 23 October 1862, and the full entry will appear in Volume II of Selected Journals.

The Death of a Soldier

By Joan Fink, Volunteer

Carte de visite photograph of Captain Richard CaryCaptain Richard Cary of the Second Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Regiment, the subject of the March 1862 feature in the MHS’ online presentation Looking at the Civil War: Massachusetts Finds Her Voice, was shot in the leg on 9 August 1862 during the battle of Cedar Mountain in Virginia. Although Cary’s injuries were not immediately fatal, his company was unable to bring him to a field hospital as there were no ambulances available for transport. Cary died of his injuries on the battle field the following day.

In a letter dated 11 August 1862 contained in the Cary Family Papers III held by the MHS, Eugene Shelton, Richard Cary’s brother-in-law and fellow officer, wrote to his parents informing them of the circumstances surrounding Richard’s death. Eugene relates that as Richard lay dying in an area occupied by Confederate soldiers, “a rebel got a piece of old wood & placed it under Richard’s head for a pillow & gave him a mug of water.” However, he added that after his death the “rebels robbed him of everything & turned his pockets inside out.” A fellow soldier who also lay dying in the field persuaded the rebels to return his locket of his wife Helen (Eugene’s sister) as well as his seal ring and Eugene reports those items would be forwarded home “as soon as teh express will take them. Eugene notes that while it is generally believed that Richard died from a loss of blood, “his countenance is perfect and he looks very pleasant” and closes his letter “Tell Helen, Richard died without a murmur & without pain.”**

Headstone of Richard and Helen Cary, Mt. Vernon Cemetary, Cambridge MA

Coming forward to the 21st century, after reading all of Captain Cary’s correspondence and doing research for the contextual essay corresponding with the March 1862 feature, I became thoroughly enthralled with his tragically short life. My fascination with Captain Cary led me to visit his grave at the Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts where I brought him a spray of roses to thank him for allowing me the opportunity to read his charming, insightful, and thought provoking letters.

 

 

 

** For more insight into letters sent home to the family members of slain soldiers see Drew Gilpin Faust’s This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2008).

 

Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch, Post 15

By Elaine Grublin

The following excerpt is from the diary of Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch.

Sunday, July 27th, 1862

Public events, which in this trying time, occupy our thoughts greatly, have of late been very saddening in their character. I refer chiefly to the week of battles near Richmond, where, notwithstanding the skill of Gen. McClellan and the valor of his troops, all that could be accomplished was to gain by a retreat, a safer position, with great loss on both sides, – more probably on the enemy’s than on ours. The result has been a comparative pause, while new enlistments are urged, – 300,000 men being called for by the President. The share of Mass is 15000, – that of Dorchester 137. Public meetings are held, – large bounty offered; – many towns have completed their quotas; & ours I hope will do her part. Some are very earnest to have a proclamation of emancipation; but our President, cautious and firm, holds back from what might at present, if it did not arouse the horrors of a slave insurrection, at least divide the North and embitter the South. Gen. Halleck is appointed Commander-in-chief. Congress has confirmed, after passing a Confiscation bill. Three from this town have died in the service; – two, Edward Foster and Ambrose Howe, by sickness; & one, – Dodge, – perhaps more, – in battle. My own young parishioners, thank God! have thus far been spared, as far as accounts have been received.

Bulfinch’s pen is silent in August, but look for his next entry in the Beehive in September.

Help Us Identify This Civil War Photo

By Emilie Haertsch, Publications

We need your help identifying the location of this photo! Taken during the Civil War, it was a 1911 gift from Edmund A. Whitman to the Society. The photograph accompanied the materials of his father, Col. Edmund Burke Whitman, a Harvard graduate and army quartermaster in the Civil War. Col. Whitman played a key role in the creation of the cemetery system for the Civil War dead, which was constructed after the war. During the war his career took him many places in the North and South, so it does not narrow the possibilities of this photograph’s location.

View a larger scan of the image here. It depicts what appear to be four African American soldiers with a cannon, probably a rifled Rodman breech-loading siege gun, a large cannon designed to knock down enemy fortifications. These Rodman guns were used by both the North and South. Since the Rodman gun fired cylindrical shells that looked like enormous modern-day bullets, the round cannon balls depicted were not used for that gun and may indicate that the emplacement had been in use before the arrival of these soldiers.

The fortification in the photograph appears old, and the grass growing over it indicates it was not very well maintained. Churches and other large buildings and a wide, bending river are visible in the background.  It is likely that some of the buildings in this photograph still stand and the modern-day view from the same vantage point is somewhat similar.

The soldiers could have been members of one of several U.S. Colored Heavy Artillery Regiments from the Civil War, designated with the numbers 1 and 3-14. They were raised in 1864, although some existed as state units prior to being called into federal service and re-numbered. Some remained in service, occupying the South after the end of the war. If the soldiers were part of these regiments, it would narrow the possibilities of the photo’s location because they often were assigned to border garrisons away from the fighting or to areas of the South occupied by the Union. However, the soldiers depicted in the photograph would not have needed to be members of a heavy artillery battery in order to man a siege gun, and there were African American artillery men not assigned to heavy artillery regiments.

Please help us solve this longstanding mystery! If you think you recognize the location of this photograph or have other related information, please share it in the comments below.

Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch, Post 14

By Elaine Grublin

The following excerpt is from the diary of Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch.

Thursday, June 19th, 1862

Of public events the chief worthy of record is the sudden irruption of the rebel force into central Virginia, occasioning the retreat of Gen. Banks, & an instant rally to arms in this state and elsewhere. The first personal acquaintance I have lost in this war (as far as I yet know) was killed in the encounter, at Port Royal, with Jackson’s Force, – Capt. Wm. P. Ainsworth of Nashua, a fine young man of my former parish.

Come back to read Bulfinch’s July entry where he reflects on the increasing loss of life in battle and Lincoln’s call for 300,000 new volunteers. 

Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch, Post 13

By Elaine Grublin

The following excerpt is from the diary of Stephen Greenleaf Bulfinch.

May 11th 1862

Meantime public news has come in rapid succession. New Orleans surrendered, Fort Mason soon followed, – Yorktown has been abandoned, and the rebels have been defeated at Williamsburg and West Point. God grant a speedy termination of the contest! In Washington, the Act for abolishing slavery in the D.C. having been passed, Congress have turned their attention to the great subject of a confiscation bill. This I am disposed to favor, as a means partly of emancipating many slaves, & thus preparing the way for the freedom of the rest, – partly of punishing treason in a less cruel but more effectual method than by executions. I was much impressed by a speech of Senator Wade of Ohio on this subject.

Be sure to check back in June, when Bulfinch notes Confederate movements in Virginia and the loss of a personal acquaintance and former parishioner.