The death of Stonewall Jackson, an eyewitness account

A few days ago, we marked the 153th anniversary of the death of one of the most known figures of the Confederacy: General Thomas Jonathan Jackson, better known as "Stonewall Jackson".

On May 22nd 1863, Stonewall Jackson led a spectacular assault on the Union's XIth Corps during the battle of Chancellorsville. Jackson's cavalry (led by Major General Fitzhugh Lee, nephew of General Lee) discovered while scouting that the entire right flank of Army of the Potomacs' XIth Corps was camping in open ground, and it was only guarded by two guns, aimed Westward. The union soldiers were not even properly armed: they had unloaded their guns and were eating and playing games, without realizing the presence of a complete Confederate Corps less than a mile from their location.

At around 5.30 pm, the Rebel Yell rose up from the woods, and Jackson's 21500 men hit the oblivious Union right with their full force.

Despite a courageous defence, the Union forces were forced into retreat.

When night fell (and the attack came to a standstill), the Unions' XIth Corps had lost nearly 2500 men (259 dead, 1173 wounded and 994 unaccounted for). The Corps had lost around 25% of their effective strength. 12 regimental commanders (more than 50% of those present) were among the casualties.

It should have been a great day for the Confederates, but it ended with a disastrous blow for the Confederate morale. By the end of the night, General Jackson wanted to determine if a night assault was possible before General Joe Hooker could regain their bearings and stage a massive counterattack. When riding back to camp, sentries of the 18th North Carolina Infantry Regiment mistook Jackson and his staff for Union Cavalry and fired upon them. Jackson was hit by three bullets in the arm. None of these wounds were by themselves life-threatening, but Jackson's arm had to be amputated. Unfortunately for Jackson, medical aid was not easily available and he even had the bad luck of falling from the stretcher during an artillery attack. The nightly cold took his toll on his weakened body and he contracted the fatal pneumonia that would kill him one week later, on the 10th of May 1863.

Dr. McGuire wrote an account of Jackson's final hours and last words:

A few moments before he died he cried out in his delirium, "Order A.P. Hill to prepare for action! Pass the infantry to the front rapidly! Tell Major Hawks"—then stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished. Presently a smile of ineffable sweetness spread itself over his pale face, and he said quietly, and with an expression, as if of relief, 'Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.'

Various Lost Causers later glorified the already highly regarded General Jackson, attributing the Confederate defeat at Gettysburg not to George Meade's good generalship (and general Lee's atypically dismal generalship), but rather to Stonewall Jackson's absence. This theory of courses glosses over Jackson's lethargy at the Seven Days Battles.

Now, in the period of the anniversary of General Jackson's death, I found (on a webpage of the Virginia Historical Society) this eyewitness account of General Jackson's death, by one of his staff officers. Richard Wilbourn was amongst the men riding back with General Jackson, and he was also present for the near entire evacuation of the wounded general.

Transcription:

H[ea]d Q[ua]r[ter]s 2nd Army Corps [?] May 1863

Col. C. J. Faulkner,

A.A. Gen.

Sir,

At your request I will endeavor to give you a correct account of the manner in which Gen. [Thomas J.] Jackson was wounded. Gen. J. attacked the enemy in the rear near the Wilderness Church on the evening of the 2nd of May and drove the enemy before him till about 9 o'clock p.m. when the firing ceased. The road on which we were advancing ran nearly due east & west & our line extended across this road & at right angles to it, our front being towards Chancellorsville or facing east. The gallant [Brig. Gen. Robert E.] Rodes with his veterans drove the enemy at the rate of nearly two miles per hour, and cheer after cheer rent the air as our victorious columns drove the enemy from his chosen position. I have never seen Gen. J. seem so well pleased with his success as that evening—he was in unusually fine sprits and every time he heard the cheering of our men which is ever the signal of victory—he raised his right hand a few seconds as if in acknowledgement of the blessing and to return thanks to God for the victory. About 9 o'clock the firing ceased and all seemed quiet and Gen. J. ordered Maj. Gen. A. P. Hill to the front to relieve Gen. Rodes whose command had been engaged all the evening and who was consequently ordered back to the rear to rest his troops. Gen. J. now rode to the front and meeting Gen. R. said to him "Gen. I congratulate you and your command for your gallant conduct and I shall take pleasure in giving you a good name in my report," and rode on to the front passing Gen. Hill, who was in front getting his command in position & fortifying his line—Gen. J. ordered Capt. [James K.] Boswell, his Chief Engineer to report to Gen. Hill for orders and sent Capt. [James P.] Smith, his aide-de-camp off with

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orders. Maj. [Alexander S.] Pendleton, A. A. Gen. had previously been sent off with orders. I had just returned from carrying an order and had just reported that his order had been delivered, when he replied as is his custom "very good." So there was no one left with Gen. J at this time, but myself and Messrs. Wm. E. Cunliffe & W. T. Wynn of the Signal Corps, and Capt. [William F.] Randolph in charge of the few couriers present. Gen. J with this escort was now at about fifty or sixty yards more or less distance in advance of Gen. Hill who was in advance of his troops. Gen. [James H.] Lane's Brigade extended across the road just in the rear of Gen. Hill, and commended firing at us from the right for some cause I suppose taking us for the enemy and the firing extended unexpectedly along his whole line. When the firing commenced all our horses had been frightened and started off—some moving into the enemy's lines. At the first fire some of the horses were shot from under their riders and several persons killed or wounded. Mr. Cunliffe of the Signal Corps fell in a few feet of Gen. J., mortally wounded. Gen. J.'s horse dashed off in the opposite direction, that is to the left, at the first firing, as did all of the escort who escaped this fire & who could control their horses. I was at Gen. J.'s left side & kept there. When we had gotten about fifteen or twenty paces to the left of the road, we came up in a few yards of the troops of this same Brigade on the left of the road and received their fire, as the fire had by that time extended to the extreme left of the Brigade and it was by this last fire that Gen. J. was struck in three places, viz, in the left arm half way between the elbow & shoulder, in the left wrist, and in the palm of the right hand. The troops who fired at us did not appear to be more than thirty yards off, as I could see them though it was after 9 o'clock P.M. He held his reins in his left hand which immediately dropped by his side and his horse perfectly frantic dashed back into the road, passing under the limb of a tree which took off his cap, and ran down the road towards the enemy. I followed, losing my cap at the same bush—but before I could catch his horse & when about fifty yards from where he was wounded, he succeeded in getting

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his reins in his right hand—also disabled—and turned his head towards our lines and he then ran up the road. We were now so far in advance of our troops as to be out of their range. Just as his horse got within twenty paces of where we were first fired at—Mr. Wynn & myself succeeded in catching his horse and stopping him. The firing had now ceased and no one was in sight—save we three—Gen. J. looked up the road towards our troops apparently much surprised at being fired at from that direction, but said nothing. Just then Mr. Wynn saw a man on horseback near by and told him to "ride back & see what troops those are," pointing in the direction of our troops and he rode off at once—I then remarked, "those certainly must be our troops" and looked at Gen. J. to see what he would say, but he said nothing, though seemed to nodded assent to my remark. He continued looking up the road, standing perfectly still and uttered not a word till Mr. Wynn asked him if he was hurt much, when he replied "severely." I saw something must be done at once, and as I did not know whether he could ride back into our lines, I asked, "Gen. are you hurt very badly," he replied, "I fear my arm is broken." I then asked, "where are you struck," said he, "about half way between the elbow and shoulder." I asked, "Gen. are your hurt any where else," he replied, "yes, a slight wound in the right hand." I did not think from his looks that he could ride back into our lines for I saw he was growing very weak from loss of blood, nor did I know but what that same Brigade would fire at us again if we approached their line from that directions as we were then directly between our friends and the enemy, and if any difference nearest the enemy, and I was fearful the enemy might come up and demand our surrender as there was nothing to prevent it. I could not tolerate for one moment the idea of his falling into the enemy's hands. I then asked the question, "Gen. what should I do for

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you" when he said, "I wish you would see if my arm is bleeding much." I immediately dismounted, remarking, "try to work your fingers, if you can move your fingers at all the arm is not broken," when he tried & commented, "yes it is broken, I can't work my fingers." I then caught hold of his wrist and could feel the blood on his sleeve and gauntlet, and saw he was growing weak rapidly. I said, "Gen. I will have to rip your sleeve to get at your wound"—he had on an india rubber overcoat—and he replied "well you had better take me down too," at the same time leaning his body towards me—and I caught hold of him—he then said "take me off on the other side." I was then on the side of the broken arm & Mr. Wynn on the other. I replied and started to straighten on his horse to take him off on the other side, when he said "no, go ahead" and fell into my arms prostrated. Mr. Wynn took the right foot out of his stirrup & came around to my side to assist in extricating the left foot while I held him in my arms and we carried him a little ways out of the road to prevent our troops or any one who might come along the road from seeing him, as I considered it necessary to conceal the fact of his being wounded from our own troops, if possible. We laid him down on his back under a little tree with his head resting on my right leg for a pillow, and proceeded to cut open his sleeve with my knife. I sent Mr. Wynn at once for Dr. [Hunter] McGuire & an ambulance as soon as I ripped up the india rubber, I said to him that I would have to cut off most of his sleeve, when he said "that is right, cut away every thing." I then took off his opera glass & haversack which were in my way—remarking, "that it was most remarkable that any of us had escaped alive" & he said "yes it is providential." I was then under the impression that all the rest of the party accompanying him had been killed or wounded, which was not far from the truth. Gen. J. then said to me "Capt. I wish you would get me a skilful surgeon."

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I said "I have sent for Dr. McGuire and also an ambulance, as I am anxious to get you away as soon as possible, but as Dr. McGuire may be some distance off, I will get the nearest Surgeon to be found, in case you should need immediate attention," and seeing Gen. Hill approaching the spot where we were, I continued "there comes Gen. Hill, I will see if he can't furnish a Surgeon," and as Gen. H rode up, I said "Gen. H have you a surgeon with you, Gen. J. is wounded"—said Gen. H. "I can get you one" and turned to Capt. B[enjamin] W. Leigh who was acting aid de camp to him and told him to go to Gen. [Dorsey] Pender & bring his surgeon. Gen. H. dismounted and came to where Gen. J. was and said "Gen. I hope you are not badly hurt." Gen. J. "my arm is broken." Gen. H. "Do you suffer much." Gen. J. "it is very painful." Gen. Hill pulled off his gloves which were full of blood, and supported his elbow and hand, while I tied a handkerchief around the wound. The ball passed through the arm, which was very much swollen, but did not seem to be bleeding at all then, so I said, "Gen. it seems to have ceased bleeding, I will first tie a handkerchief tight around the arm" to which he said, "very good." I then said, "I will make a sling to support your arm," to which he replied, "if you please." About this time the Surgeon of Pender's Brigade, Dr. [Richard R.] Barr came up and Gen. Hill announced his presence to Gen. J. & Gen. H. offered a tourniquet to fold around the arm but as it was not bleeding at the time and seemed to be doing very well, it was not put on. The Surgeon went off a few minutes for some thing & Gen. J. then asked in a whisper "is that man a skillful surgeon." Gen. H. said, "he stands high in his Brigade, but he does not propose doing any thing—he is only here in case you should require immediate aid of a surgeon or till Dr. McGuire reaches you" Gen. J. "very good."

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At this time Capt. [Richard H. T.] Adams, signal officer offered Gen. Hill whiskey for Gen. J.—which Gen. H. asked him to drink. He hesitated and I also asked him to drink it, adding that it would help him very much. Gen. J. "had you not better put some water with it"—which was the cause of his hesitation. Gen. H. and I both insisted on his drinking it so and taking water after it, which he did. I then said "Gen. let me pour this water over your wound," to which he said "yes, if you please, pour it so as to wet the cloth," which I did & asked "what can I do for your right hand" Gen. J. "don't mind that it is not a matter of minor consequence—I can use my fingers & it is not very painful." About this time Lts. Smith & [Joseph G.] Morrison came up and Lt. Smith unbuckled his sword & took it off. About this time Capt. Adams halted two Yankee skirmishers in a few yards of where Gen. J. lay and demanded their surrender. They remarked, "we were not aware that we were in your lines." Gen. Hill seeing this immediately hurried off to take command, saying to Gen. Jackson that he would conceal the fact of his being wounded. Gen. J. said, " yes, if you please." Lt. Morrison then reported that the enemy were in a hundred yards and advancing & said, "let us take the Gen. away as soon as possible." Some one then proposed that we take him in our arms, which Gen. J. said, "no, if you will help me up, I can walk." He was immediately raised and started off on foot with Capt. Leigh on his right side and some one, I am not sure who was on the left side to support him. When he walked a few paces he was placed on a litter borne by Capt. Leigh, Jno J. Johnson and two others whose names I am not certain of. Jno. J. Johnson of Co. "H" 22 Va. Battalion was wounded while per-

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forming this duty and his arm afterwards amputated at the socket. I could take no part in bearing the litter as I had not sufficient strength in my right arm to assist, in consequence of a wound received in a previous engagement, so I got on my horse and rode between Gen. J. and the troops who were moving down the road, to prevent if possible them seeing him and was leading a horse belonging to one of the litter bearers, which I also endeavored to keep between him & the troops in order to screen him more effectively. These troops seemed very anxious to see who it was that was wounded, they kept trying to see and asking me who it was, and seemed to think it was some Yankee officer as he was being brought from the front of our lines. To all of these questions I simply answered, "it is only a friend of mine." Gen. J. said "Capt. when asked just say it is a Confederate officer." One man was so determined to see who it was that he walked around me in spite of all I could do to prevent it & exclaimed in the most pitiful tone, "Great God that is old Gen. Jackson," when I said to him, "you mistake it is only a Confederate officer—a friend of mine." He looked at me in doubt & wanted to believe but passed on without saying any more. As soon as Gen. J. was place in the litter the enemy opened a terrific fire of musketry, shell, grape & C. which continued for about half an hour—to all of which Gen. J. was exposed. One of the litter bearers had his arm broken but did not let the litter fall—then another man just after this, fell with the litter, in consequence of getting his foot tangled in a vine. It was entirely accidental & he expressed great regret at it. Gen. J. rolled out & fell on his broken arm, causing it to com-

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mence bleeding again and very much bruising his side. He gave several most pitiful groans—but previous to this he made no complaint and gave no evidence of suffering much. After this he asked several times for sprits, which it was very difficult to get. He was much in need of a stimulant at this time as he was losing blood very fast. I went to a Yankee hospital near by and tried to get some sprits for him from their surgeons, but they had none. At this time Dr. McGuire & Maj. Pendleton got up & Dr. McGuire found him in an ambulance very much exhausted from loss of blood & he gave him some sprits—which seemed to revive him somewhat. He was then carried in the ambulance a mile or two to the rear. Just here Maj. P said to me "Capt W., Gen. Hill is slightly wounded in the leg and Gen. Rodes is in command & requests me to send for Gen. Lee & ask him to come here. I wish you would go to Gen. [Robert E.] Lee with this intelligence and send for Gen. [J. E. B.] Stuart. There are a plenty here to take care of Gen. J & you have done all you could do." I asked Capt. Randolph of the couriers to go for Gen. Stuart and he started for Gen. Stuart. I reached Gen. Lee about an hour before day and found him laying on the ground [a]sleep but as soon as I spoke to Maj. [Walter H.] Taylor, he asked who it was & when told, he told me to come & take a seat by him & give him all the news. After telling of the fight & victory, I told him Gen. J. was wounded—describing the wound—then he said, "thank God it is no worse, God be praised that he is yet alive." He then asked me some questions about the fight & said "Capt. any victory is dearly bought that deprives us of the services of Jackson even temporarily." When I returned to Gen J. his arm had been amputated & he was doing well.

Respectfully

R. E. Wilbourn

Capt. & Chief Signal Officer

2nd Army Corps

Black Bart, The Gentleman Outlaw and Poet

While a known outlaw during his life, the name of Charles “Black Bart” Bowles won’t ring a bell for most people.

And yet his style, sophistication and non-violence (it is said he never fired a gun during his robberies) make him one of the most unique robbers of the old west.

Up until the American civil War, his life was rather unremarkable. He did some gold digging during the 1840s, and settled in Decatur, Illinois during the 1850s (a time during which he married and had 4 children).

The civil War was probably the event that would influence Bowles the most during his life. He enlisted in August 1862 and was assigned to the 116th Regiment Illinois Infantry. As an exemplary soldier, he had risen from private to Sergeant within a year.

During his “tour of duty”, Bowles participated in many important battles of the American Civil War: He fought in the Central Mississippi Campaign, he was at Vicksburg (which is where he was promoted to sergeant), Missionary ridge, Sherman’s march to the sea and many others. He was discharged from the army on June 7th 1865 and returned to his farm.

The 3 years of war had given him a thirst from adventure however, and he could just not stand living on a farm anymore…By 1867, he left his wife and children on their farm and was headed to California. He regularly sent letters to his wife until 1871. In August of that year, she received a letter from him for the last time. After she heard nothing anymore, she supposed he must have died somewhere out there in California.

This last letter contained a sentence that, in retrospect, foreshadowed what was about to happen. He mentioned that there had been an incident with some Wells and Fargo employees, and he vowed to get back to them.

On July 26, 1875,that’s exactly what happened, when the Stagecoach that went from Sonora to Milton was held up by a man with a flour sack over his head. The man was dressed in a long leather jacket and carried a double-barreled shotgun. He was polite and just asked the stagecoach driver to throw down the box with money, which contrasted starkly with the foul language most outlaws used.

A few months later, he robbed the stagecoach from North San Juan to Marysville. He informed the driver that 3 other men were in the hills, and they had rifles. The driver saw the rifles protrude from between rocks and gave the money. Black bart Fled the scene (on foot, as he was supposedly quite scared of horses!). When the driver investigated the area later, he found the “guns” whith which he was threatened: sticks (this was probably an idea Black Bart got from his civil war days, when the Confederates managed to block a numerically superior Union army by painting hollowed out trees and passing them off as artillery. This is known as using “Quaker Guns”).

Another robbery was done on June 2, 1876 but it was rather inconsequential.

The one that really started his legend was the one he committed on August 3, 1877 on the stage from Point Arena to Duncan’s Mill in Sonoma Country. While he didn’t really gain much of it (300$ and a check for 305$, which he never cashed for obvious reasons), it gained him notoriety when an armed posse went back to the site of the robbery for clues and found a paper with a poem on it, pinned with a stone, atop a tree stump.

“I’ve labored long and hard for bread

For Honor and for riches

But on my corns too long you’ve tred

You fine haired sons of Bitches

Black Bart

The PO8

Driver, give my respects to our friend, the other driver,

But I really had a notion to hang my old disguise hat on his weather eye.

Respectfully, BB.”

On July 25,1878, Black Bart left another poem:

“Here I lay me down to sleep

To wait the coming morrow

Perhaps success perhaps defeat

And Everlasting Sorrow

Let come what will I’ll try it on

My condition can’t be worse

And if theres money in that box

Tis munny in my purse

Black Bart

The PO8 “

Black bart was really getting known now, and during each of his robberies he made sure it was original:

- At one time he says to a woman passenger “No, don’t get out. I never bother the passengers”. (This is sometimes quoted as “No ma’am, I don’t rob the passengers. I’m only after Wells Fargo)

- On October 2nd, 1878, he was taking a picnic on the roadside at the moment he was stopping the stagecoach he was going to rob.

- During a later robbery, he jokes with the driver “Sure hope you have a lot of Gold in that strongbox, ‘cos I’m nearly out of money.”

- At another time, a driver asked him “how much did you make?”. BB stoically answers: “realy not much for the chances I take.”

Ever since the second poem, Black Bart has a man called James B.Hume on his trail, who offers a 800* reward for the capture of Black Bart.

With Hume on his trail, Bowles still managed to rob more than 20 coaches.

The last robbery he committed was the one who would ultimately lead to his arrest, and it occurred on November 3, 1883

On the coach from Sonora to Milton, in Calaveras County.

The driver of this coach, Reason McConnel, had taken a 19-year old with him, who wanted to hunt small game along the path of the coach. This 19-year old, named Jimmy Rolleri, left the coach shortly before the hold-up to go a little bit further from the path, with hopes of catching some game. Bart noticed someone was missing (since a coach had always someone riding shotgun). McConnel truthfully told him he went hunting. Bart then sent him away with his horses. By the time McConnell found Jimmy, they decided to go back up to the coach, where they saw Bart hatcheting the strong box. They took a couple of shots at him, forcing him to run. From a few signs of blood they found afterwards, they knew they’d hit him at least once.

By making him flee, they’d also forced him to leave behind some belongings. One of these was a handkerchief, and it was this that would spell the end of Black Bart’s criminal career. On this handkerchief there was a laundry mark “FXO7”.

It took one week of searching but it was matched. Hume and his team went to Bowles address, and finally arrested him.” Even there, Black Bart remained his polite and charming self. Hume reported that he “exhibited genuine wit under most trying circumstances. Extremely proper and polite in behavior, eschews profanity.”

He was sentenced to six years in San Quentin, and he served out his sentence as a model prisoner. He took up contact with his wife again and received regular mail, even though he had no visitors in prison.

After 4 years and 2 months, he was released on January 21, 1888. When a reporter asked him if he would ever commit a crime, he smiled and said “No, dear sir, I am through with crime.” The same reporter then asked him if he would still write poems. In a display of his trademark with, Bowles answered: “now young man didn’t you hear me when I said I would commit no more crimes?”

Bowles kept on being shadowed by Wells Fargo and ultimately decided to disappear. When Wells Fargo found his trace, thanks to witness reports, they found an empty room with a suitcase. This contained some food and a few neckties and cuffs. Since this is still Black Bart we’re talking about, he left a joke for Hume: the clothes in the suitcase all bore the laundry mark FXO7…

By 1892, Mary Boles listed herself as the widow of Charles Boles. There was supposedly an obituary for Civil War Veteran Charles E.Boles, in a 1917 New York newspaper. It might or might not be Black Bart. If it was, he would have been 88 years old.

Whatever happened to Black Bart after February 28, 1888 (when he was seen for the last time) we’ll never know for sure, but however it may be, he has already secured his place in the pantheon of the legends of the Old west.

The Battle at Hampton Roads: the First clash between IronClad ships

While Ironclads were not totally new during the American Civil War (the French had launched the first Ironclad ship “La gloire” in 1856.The British built two ironclads in 1859, and decided by 1861 that the entire fleet should be replaced by this new kind of ships), it was the USS Monitor and the CSS Virginia that had the dubious honor of being the first Ironclads to battle in 1862.

At the start of the war, Confederate secretary of the Navy Stephen Mallory understood that the CSA would never be able to compete with the Union on a naval field. So his idea was to build only a few armoured ships that would technically be superior to the Union ships.

The first ship that was selected to become converted to an Ironclad was the USS Merrimack, a ship that was supposed to be destroyed during the Union’s failed attempt to destroy Portsmouth harbor (so that it would not fall in Confederate hands). The Merrymack was damaged, but it was found good enough to be converted. On may 30 1861, the wreck was salvaged and conversion began.

The CSS Virginia, formerly known as the Merrymac

However, the conversion of the Merrimack was one of the CSA’s worst kept secrets, and the Union Congress soon ordered the construction of Ironclads too. A few designs were proposed, but ultimately, it was the “Monitor”, a design of Swedish-born John Ericsson that was selected to become the Union’s first Ironclad warship.

the deck of the USS Monitor

By 1862, both ships were commissioned within one week of each other. The Mrerymack, now rechristened as the CSS Virginia, was commissioned on February 17,1862 and it’s Union counterpart on 25 December 1862.

On 8 March 1862, both ships would see their first action.

The CSS Virginia was sent into action that day to break the Union Blockade. The ship, commanded by captain Franklin Buchanan, met up with other confederate ships: the CSS Patrick Henry, the CSS Jamestown, the CSS Beaufort, the CSS Raleigh and the CSS Teaser. As soon as they arrived at the Union blockade (which consisted of 5 ships and several support vessels), the Virginia headed straight for the Union ship USS Cumberland. The USS Congress and the USS Cumberland immediately opened fire on the CSS Virginia, but the effectiveness of ironclads was immediately proven as the cannonballs bounced of the Virginia’s plating. After being rammed by the Virginia, the Cumberland sunk rapidly, taking 121 crewmembers with her.

The battle could have changed radically here, as the Virginia’s ram initially remained stuck in the sinking vessels’ hull, almost taking the heavy metal ship with it…The Virginia managed to break lost, at the cost of her ram.

The Virginia, together with the other confederate ships, now turned it’s attention now to the Congress. The latter stood it’s ground but had to surrender in front of superior firepower. Captain Buchanan allowed the crew of the Congress to be evacuated but ultimately shot the ship (with many crew still on it) after the Virginia was fired upon by a Union coastal battery. The Congress caught fire and ultimately sank.

the Cumberland being sank by the CSS Virginia (painting: F. Newman)

By the end of the day, the battle was a disaster for the Union: 400 sailors had died, whereas the CSA had lost only two men.

The CSS Virginia used the calm of the night to perform repairs of the battle damage it had sustained. It’s about at this time that the USS Monitor arrived at Hampton roads.

On the morning of the 9th March, the Virginia moved out and went for the attack. The target was the USS Minnesota, which was aground. Their path to their target was blocked however by a strange vehicle (which one sailor mockingly called a “cheese on a raft”).

The commanding officer of the Virginia (captain Buchanan was wounded in the battle the day before, so his second in command, Roger Jones, had taken over) didn’t immediately understand that the Monitor was, in fact, an Ironclad, but he did see that he had to fight his way past it to engage the Minnesota. The exact nature of the “cheese on a raft” would become clear to him soon enough. The Virginia shot at the Monitor, missed completely and actually hit the Minnesota. The latter responded by firing it’s broadsides at the Confederate Ironclad.

The battle that ensured last for the better part of five hours and was technically inconclusive. While the Monitor had an edge concerning speed and maneuverability, neither ship had enough firepower to pierce the hull of it’s opponent.

The end of the battle came when a confederate shell hit the command post of the Monitor, sending shrapnel into the “cockpit”. Union Captain John Worden was partially blinded by the incoming shrapnel. The monitor temporarily retreated until the replacing officer could take over his place (only one person at a time could look out from the command post).

The Virginia, believing the Union ship had given up, returned to Norfolk for repairs.

The Battle between Virginia and Monitor (litograph by Jo Davidson)

When the Monitor turned about for another engagement, they saw the Virginia had retreated, but did not pursue since the ship’s orders were to protect the Minnesota.

In the end, both the Union and the Confederacy thought they had won the day, but practically it was a Union victory, since the Coonfederacy failed to break the blockade.

The ships didn’t fight each other again, but neither of them lived to see the year 1863.

During the month of May 1862, Union troops occupied Norfolk. The Virginia was not seaworthy to enter the ocean and was too heavy to go up the river. Rather than risk it falling into enemy hands, the ship was destroyed by it’s crew.

The USS Monitor nearly saw the next year, but it was finally sunk during a storm on December 31, 1862.

The battle gained worldwide attention, and proved the power of Ironclad warships and the weakness of wooden ships. The way of conducting naval warfare was irrevocably changed that day.

The Life of Billy the Kid

William Henry McCarthy (23 November 1859 – July 14, 1881), more commonly known as William H. Bonney, or Billy the Kid, was born of Irish settlers, who came to the USA during the great famine. It is not known with certainty who his father was, but we do know his mother was called Catherine McCarthy, and that she remarried to a certain William Antrim (which would be the source of one of the Kid’s aliases: Henry Antrim).

Catherine McCarthy died, of tuberculosis, when William was 14 years old. He was taken in by the Truesdell family, who had just bought a hotel/restaurant where he worked for his keep. Ironically, despite the desperado image we have of Billy the Kid, the manager said the young boy was the only one who ever worked for him that didn’t steal.His schoolteachers also dismantled the myth of his personality, with one saying “the young man was no more a problem than any other boy. He was even quite willing to help with the chores around the schoolhouse”.

His brother Joseph was placed with the owner of a local club, a man named John Dryer, and continued to lead an honest life thereafter.

When the Truesdells started having problems, McCarthy sought his fortunes elsewhere. He went from small job to small job, without ever staying at the same place for a long time. It was during this time he was arrested twice, once for stealing cheese (april 1875) and a few months later again for the supposed theft of clothing and firearms from a Chinese immigrant. He escaped jail on that second occasion and was now officially a fugitive (though it was highly unlikely there’d have been much searches for a petty thief, whose biggest crime was stealing from a “Chinaman”)

In 1876, he met John Mackie, in Arizona. The two became involved in horse thievery, which was highly profitable.

In 1877, Billy the Kid (who was at that time mostly known by the local people as “Kid Antrim”, because of his youthful appearance and slight build), shot the blacksmith Frank Cahill. This was the first of his 4 victims.

Frank Cahill’s killing was considered unjustifiable by the law officers, even though most witnesses say it was self-defense: the blacksmith was a bully and often took pleasure in tormenting young McCarthy. On that fateful day, another of the bullying episodes ended more violently when Cahill threw the young man to the ground, intent on beating him up. The Kid drew his gun and shot his tormentor.

Regardless of eyewitnesses, he was now considered a murderer, and fled to New Mexico, in fear of reprisal.

Here he worked together with several bands of cattle thiefs. Ultimately, he ended up in the house of a certain Heiskell Jones (apparently near death after Apaches stole his horse and he had to walk many miles before encountering the first sign of civilization) He was nursed back to health by this family, and left them (with a horse they gave him). It’s presumably around this point he started calling himself William H. Bonney.

In 1877, Bonney was involved in what would become part of his lasting fame: the Lincoln County War.

The Lincoln County War originally started as a business conflict between two groups: the first one consisted of two established merchants: Lawrence Murphy and James Dolan. The second one consisted of merchants who came later: John Tunstall and Alexander Mcsween.

While the Lincoln county war and events could justify an entire essay themselves (which I may do at a later time), it’s enough for now to say that the conflict soon turned from businesslike to violent. When Tunstall was murdered by a group of men, who were working for Murphy and Dolan (one of these goons was local sheriff William Brady).

Mcsween did the necessary to obtain arrest warrants for the men responsible, and so a deputized group was formed, with the intent of arresting the men responsible. This group called itself “the regulators”. The Kid was part of this group.

After being deputized, the regulators arrested two of the men responsible for the murder of Tunstall. But these two men, Bill Morton and Frank Baker, never made it back to Lincoln alive. They were shot while escaping. The Regulators also shot one of their own men there, a certain William McCloskey (who had supposedly betrayed the regulators).

On April 1 1877, the violence flared up once more: 6 regulators, among which there was Billy the Kid, ambushed William Brady and his deputy George Hindman. Both of them were killed in Lincoln main street.

On April 4th, the regulators were involved in a gunfight with Buckshot Roberts, whom they suspected in the involvement of the murder.

These last incidents did negatively influence public opinion towards the Regulators, however. They were now considered just as bad as the man they went up against.

The Regulator’s position only worsened when the Dolan faction ended up allying with the US Cavalry. A few more violent episodes followed (which I’ll also detail in a separate essay about the Lincoln County War), but the “war” ended when McSween was killed, and the remaining regulators became fugitives.

Lew Wallace, Governor of New Mexico (also known as the writer of Ben Hur, and as a not so competent Civil War Commander), offered amnesty to those involved, but not indicted in the Lincoln County War.

The Kid was indicted, but tried to obtain some measure of peace in another way: in exchange for amnesty, he’d testify. Wallace accepted, and McCarty agreed to remain in jail for the time of the testimony. Wallace broke his word however and didn’t free McCarty, so after the Dolan trial, McCarty escaped together with his close friend Tom O’folliard.

For the next year and a half, the Kid remained on the run for the law. In 1880, he killed someone for the second time (while he was involved in a few gunfights, there are only 4 deaths which can be attributed to him with certainty). This time it was a man called Joe Grant. The man reportedly boasted how he would kill Billy the Kid if he encountered him, unaware that the Kid was next to him . McCarthy asked to see the gun with which he would do it. When Grant complied, McCarthy rotated the cylinder so it was on an empty chamber. He then handed back the gun and told Grant his real identity. The man took his gun and tried to shoot, with no effect, since it was an empty chamber...McCarthy then shot the man.

By November 1880, another name comes into the story: Pat Garret, who was elected sheriff of Lincoln County in November 1880. He set out with a posse to capture Billy the Kid.

He came near on December 19. However, the Kid managed to escape, but not withouot any cost: his good friend Tom O’Folliard was killed. On December 23, the Kid and his gang were tracked to an abandoned building near Taiban, where they were surrounded by the posse. Realising they had no food, and no hope of escape, the gang surrendered.

Billy The Kid was imprisoned in Santa Fe, where he remained for a few months. During that time, he tried to make Lew Wallace make good on his promise of amnesty, to no avail.

He was sentenced to be hung, with the penalty taking place on may 13, 1881. But again, The Kid surprised everyone by killing both of his guards (James W. Bell and Bob Olinger) with a hidden gun, before escaping.

Based on Rumours, Garrett set out to Fort Sumner, where the Kid was reportedly hiding.

On July 14th, Garret was questioning one of the Kid’s friends ( a man named Pete Maxwell), when Billy the Kid unexpectedly entered.

The official story said that when he entered, he did not recognize Garrett and drew his gun, while saying “who is it?” in Spanish. When Garret recognized the voice of the kid, he drew his gun and shot him twice. One bullet hit him in the heart and he died one minute later.

The other version that is told however, and which is probably more accurate, goes as follows:

The Kid entered, armed only with a knife, on his way to the kitchen. When he noticed shadows moving, he said “who is it?”. Garret said nothing and shot him.

Whatever the truth may be: the Kid was dead. He was buried in Fort Sumner, between his two longtime friends and allies: Charlie Bowdre and Tom O’Folliard.

While his life ended there, his legend only started. 130 years later, Billy the Kid is one of those enduring legends of the Old West. Years after his death, a few men even claimed to be him (one of these men, named Brushy Bill Roberts, was even the basis for the movie “Young Guns II”). In a final twist of irony, Billy the Kid has become some kind of a folk hero, with Pat Garrett taking on the role of the villain in the story.