Monday, November 25, 2019

Hampton Newsome's Definitive Account of the Fighting in North Carolina in Spring 1864


My friend Hampton Newsome has written the definitive account of the fighting in North Carolina in the spring of 1864 just before the fighting around Petersburg began: The Fight for the Old North StateThe Civil War in North Carolina, January - May 1864.  Many of the same troops participated in both campaigns.  Hampton is also the author of Richmond Must Fall, the best account of Grant's sixth offensive at Petersburg.  Along with John Selby and me, Hampton edited Civil War Talks: Further Reminiscences of George S. Bernard and His Fellow Veterans.  Bernard was the most prolific of the many prolific writers in the 12th Virginia Infantry, the Petersburg Regiment, and I drew heavily on his writings in The Petersburg Regiment in the Civil War: A History of the 12th Virginia Infantry from John Brown's Hanging to Appomattox, my new book just out from Savas Beatie.  Hampton drew the maps for The Petersburg Regiment as well as for my previous book, The Siege of Petersburg: The Battles for the Weldon Railroad, August 1864.  Hampton's book is getting good reviews.

In this fascinating new book, Hampton Newsome makes a valuable contribution to Civil War literature, offering a compelling account of Confederate efforts in early 1864 to turn the tide of war in eastern North Carolina. Though these efforts produced decidedly mixed results, the same cannot be said of Newsome’s. Well-researched, informative, and unfailingly interesting, this superb study merits the attention of anyone interested in the course and conduct of these operations, their strategic and operational effects, and the challenges leaders on both sides faced as they pursued victory in the Old North State in 1864.
—Ethan S. Rafuse, author of Robert E. Lee and the Fall of the Confederacy, 1863–1865 and coeditor of Guide to the Richmond-Petersburg Campaign

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

"The Petersburg Regiment" is now available from Savas Beatie, Barnes & Noble and Amazon.com

My copies arrived this evening.  To everyone who helped, thanks!
John Horn




"One of a score or so of outstanding unit histories."

-- Edwin C. Bearss, former Chief Historian, National Park Service, author, The Petersburg Campaign


Regimental histories are, for the most part, necessary resources for campaign histories but rarely worth reading beyond that. John Horn’s The Petersburg Regiment in the Civil War is a decided exception to this rule. Charting the course of a single regiment from 1861 to the war’s end is a daunting challenge but Horn is up to the task. His handling of the numerous campaigns is solid, and he deftly fits his regiment into the mix, almost always adding vivid anecdotes to the overall narrative (many appearing for the first time) by skillfully employing an extensive selection of first-hand accounts drawn from published and unpublished sources. As an added plus, the maps are numerous and well-drawn. John Horn’s book is a model of its kind.

-- Noah Andre Trudeau, author, The Last Citadel: Petersburg, Virginia, June 1864-April 1865 and Lincoln’s Greatest Journey


     John Horn’s splendid history of the 12th Virginia will stand among the classics of the discipline.

     Long years of research and patient crafting allowed the author to deliver an account as detailed and precise, as honest and clear, as any regimental accounting we’ll ever see.  Following the men of Petersburg and its environs from the naïve enthusiasm of the war’s initial months through near-disaster amid the gore at Crampton’s Gap, and on through a series of tough stands in the Chancellorsville campaign to the blunt savagery of the war’s last year, this chronicle of one hard-used, heroic regiment is a true soldier’s book—and that is a great compliment.  John Horn takes us as close as words on a page can bring us to the soldier’s experience.  From merry snowball fights between entire brigades, to the final, bitter defense of their home city, the men of the 12th Virginia leap to life.

     Horn’s reliance on first-hand accounts reminds us of how casual death became—as well as how hungry those men in gray became as early as the winter of 1863, when at least a few acquaintances of the regiment found rat meat a tasty supplement to their rations.

    Simple pleasures and harsh punishments, battlefield confusion and clashes of character…informal truces on the picket line and the shock of finding your powder wet as the enemy approaches…so often, it’s the telling detail, the tidbit ignored by the proponents of grand history, that really bring those Civil War soldiers to life again.  And Horn is the master of such details.

--Ralph Peters, author, Cain at Gettysburg and The Damned of Petersburg


The culmination of years of study and research, John Horn’s definitive history of the Petersburg Regiment narrates the wartime adventures of the 12th Virginia Regiment with the skill of a master story-teller.  We meet the regiment’s members and experience with them the horrors of battle, the exhaustion of the march, and the tedium of camp life.  Grounded in primary source materials, told with engaging verve, and accompanied by an ample array of maps, this is Civil War history at its best. The Petersburg Regiment sets a new standard for regimental histories.

--Gordon C. Rhea, author, On to Petersburg:  Grant and Lee, June 4-15, 1864


John Horn has written important books on the entire Siege of Petersburg and on some of its most crucial battles.  His latest book focuses on the “Petersburg Regiment,” the 12th Virginia Infantry.  This hard-fighting unit of Robert E. Lee’s army was heavily engaged from early 1862 to the Civil War’s final days.  Its significant service is compellingly narrated throughout these pages.  Complementing this narration are keen analyses of the 12th’s strengths – and shortcomings.  This book is essential reading for anyone interested in the humanity of the military experience.

--Dr. Richard J. Sommers, author, Challenges of Command in the Civil War and Richmond Redeemed


The 12th Virginia had not consistently distinguished itself early in the war, John Horn writes, but in his stirring regimental history, the Petersburg Regiment finally gets its (over)due.  Horn writes with humanity of a band of brothers who push through the hard work of war across Virginia only to spend the last unhappy months fighting on their own doorsteps to protect their home town.  Horn’s book is a model for the way regimental histories should be written: compelling, empathetic, and highly readable.

--Chris Mackowski, editor, The Emerging Civil War Series, author, Hell Itself:  The Battle of the Wilderness, May 5-7, 1864


A comprehensive biography of a fighting regiment in the Army of Northern Virginia, especially useful in delineating the hometown support system that sustained the regiment throughout the war.

--Dr. William Glenn Roberson, author, The First Battle of Petersburg





Tuesday, November 19, 2019

The Petersburg Regiment ("12th Virginia Infantry") at Gettysburg's Bliss Farm (picture within)


The Petersburg Regiment at Gettysburg
            Arriving on the Gettysburg battlefield around 6:30 p.m. on June 1, 1863, Anderson’s division occupied West McPherson’s Ridge.  Most of its men spent the night there, but some scroungers entered Gettysburg, getting into a public hall and pillaging a banquet spread for the return of local troops whose enlistments had expired. 
            The division’s soldiers rose early on July 2.  Moving east Mahone’s brigade, which included the 12th Virginia, formed line of battle with its right in an open field and its left in McMillan’s Woods, a big stand of oak and hickory.  The Virginians faced Ziegler’s Grove on Cemetery Ridge, which ran southward from Cemetery Hill.  Brigadier General William Mahone’s headquarters lay behind the Petersburg Riflemen, the 12th Virginia’s Company E, on the regiment's right.  One hundred yards in front of Mahone’s brigade, the gunners of Pegram’s battalion served their pieces behind a low rock wall on Seminary Ridge’s crest.  They were engaging the enemy artillery on Cemetery Ridge.  The 12th’s soldiers slept unsoundly, cognizant of nearly everything that took place around them.  They heard the booming of cannon, the sound of solid shot as it cut through the branches overhead and the cries of men struck by shell fragments.  They felt the dirt and grit strike them as cannon balls tore up the earth around them, but still they slept.
            Early that afternoon Maj. Gen. Richard Heron "Fighting Dick" General Anderson directed four of his division’s five brigades to prepare to advance one after another from right to left across Emmitsburg Road toward Cemetery Ridge.  He ordered Mahone’s brigade to remain on Seminary Ridge behind and in support of Pegram’s artillery and the right of Pender’s division.  General Robert Edward Lee placed Anderson’s division under Longstreet’s orders.  It would join Lt. Gen. James Longstreet's attack his men rolled up the enemy line.  Meanwhile, Ewell’s Corps would demonstrate against the enemy right.  Not until late in the afternoon did Longstreet’s men attack. 
Before the time came for Anderson’s advance, a distraction hobbled his division—the Bliss farm, lying in the hollow halfway between Seminary Ridge and Cemetery Ridge and to the 12th’s right front.  Northern and Southern skirmishers had driven each other back and forth across the farm’s fields all day.  Shortly before 4 p.m., Anderson decided to seize the farmstead and its massive barn to facilitate his division’s advance.  This task fell to his Mississippi Brigade, which stood on the right of his Virginians and to the left of his Georgians, Floridians and Alabamians.  The Mississippi Brigade’s pickets accomplished the mission by 5 p.m.  A call reached the 12th—the rightmost of Mahone’s regiments—to send a company to support the Mississippians.
            The 12th's adjutant, Lieutenant William Evelyn Cameron, a future governor of Virginia, approached the Huger Grays, the Petersburg Regiment's Company F.
            “Where is Lieutenant Scott?” Cameron shouted.
            First Lieutenant Edward Pegram Scott, a nephew of former United States Army commander Winfield Scott, appeared.
            “We are ordered to reinforce the picket line,” Cameron said.  “Take your company beyond the stone wall, deploy them as skirmishers, advance across the field and when you strike the skirmishers report to the commandant of the picket line.”  
            The Grays advanced by company front at a double-quick.  Reaching the stone wall they vaulted it and deployed.  At a run they crossed a clover field and jumped a plank fence into the Bliss peach orchard.  The storm of shot and shell passed over their heads.  They found the Confederate picket line deployed behind another plank fence.  “In front of this fence was a wheat field, the wheat being very rank, and as tall as a mans head,” remembered the Grays' First Sergeant James Edward Whitehorne, son of a Greensville County farmer.  To the Grays’ right loomed the Bliss barn.  Across the field lurked Federal pickets from Gibbon’s and Hays’ divisions of the Federal II Corps.
            About twelve of the Grays entered the barn.  Through holes in its sides, with some Mississippians and some soldiers of the 16th Virginia, they sniped away at Battery B, 1st Rhode Island Light Artillery, on Cemetery Ridge.  This annoyed the Yankees.  A battalion of the 12th New Jersey, as well as elements of the 1st Delaware from Hays’ division and a company of the 106th Pennsylvania from the Philadelphia or California brigade of Gibbon’s division, advanced to dislodge the Confederate marksmen at about 5:30 p.m.  The Jerseymen and Delawareans drove straight across the wheat field toward the barn.  The Pennsylvanians double-quicked along a plank fence that ran through the wheat field to the barn’s right.  They hopped the fence between the wheat field and the Bliss peach orchard.  Getting behind the barn, they captured the Grays and other Southerners inside, breaking the Secessionist picket line and flanking the rest of the Grays, who withdrew in good order.  The Unionists also retired, carrying off their prisoners.

Caption:  The Federal Capture of Bliss’ Barn—and Many Huger Grays


Credit:  Gettysburg National Military Park


            The retreating Grays reached the plank fence between the orchard and the clover field.  “About face!” they heard.  The command came to reoccupy the position near the Bliss barn.  A shrapnel burst about twenty paces to Whitehorne’s right.  He felt a sharp blow on each leg and thought dirt kicked up by the shell had struck him.
            “You are hit,” said Scott, who stood by Whitehorne’s side.  A shell fragment had taken off nearly half his right calf.  A ball had passed between the bones of his left calf without fracturing them.  Scott advised Whitehorne to go to the rear.  He limped back by the way he had come but could not find the field hospital of Mahone’s brigade.  The Federal barrage had forced it to relocate to a safer place.  A black cook guided him to the field hospital of Wilcox’s Alabama Brigade.
            The time for the four brigades from Anderson’s division to advance arrived after 6:20 p.m.  The three right brigades charged as planned.  Wilcox’s brigade attacked first, followed by Lang’s Florida Brigade, then Wright’s Georgia Brigade.  The advance of Anderson’s division broke down with Posey’s Mississippi Brigade, which had spent itself in the skirmishing on the Bliss farm.  To the Mississippians’ left, Mahone’s Virginians remained on McPherson’s Ridge in support of Pegram’s guns and Pender’s right.
Against stiffening resistance Wilcox’s and Lang’s brigades gained the upper reaches of Plum Run and Wright’s Georgians almost summited Cemetery Ridge.  Desperate counterattacks by Federals of II Corps halted them.  Enemy pressure built upon Wilcox, Lang and Wright to retreat.  Ammunition ran low.  Generals Wright and Wilcox sent couriers to Anderson demanding support.  The couriers found him and his staffers reclining in a ravine behind the Mississippi Brigade instead of overseeing the division’s advance.  Anderson dispatched his aide-de-camp, Capt. Samuel D. Shannon, with orders for Posey’s brigade to send forward its right—the 19th and 48th Mississippi—on the left of Wright’s Georgians, and for Mahone to shift to the right and advance on the left of the two Mississippi regiments.  
            The 19th and 48th Mississippi charged toward Emmitsburg Road on the left of Wright’s Georgians.  Meanwhile, Shannon reached Mahone with Anderson’s order to shift to the right and advance.  Mahone reacted to this change of plan with disbelief.
            “No,” he said, “I have orders from General Anderson himself to remain here.”
            Shannon moved on before Mahone recovered from his astonishment and complied with Anderson’s order.
            Brigadier General Carnot Posey brought up first the 16th and then the 12th Mississippi to support the 19th and 48th Mississippi on his right, leaving only a skirmish line on his left.  The Unionists in front of Posey’s left threatened that flank of his brigade, and Posey sent a courier to Mahone asking for a regiment to support the Mississippians’ left.  The courier arrived after Mahone received the order from Anderson to shift to the right and advance, which precluded literally complying with Posey’s request though the shift provided the support sought.  The attack of Posey’s right sputtered.  Only a few men from the 19th and 48th Mississippi reached Emmitsburg Road.  None neared Cemetery Ridge except for a handful from the 48th Mississippi on the Georgia Brigade’s immediate left.
            Mahone’s brigade left its skirmishers in place.  About dark, the Virginians sidled around 200 yards to the right behind the worm fence on the crest of Seminary Ridge until the brigade’s right stood behind the left of Posey’s skirmishers.  This put the Virginians on the left of the body of Posey’s brigade and unmasked the left of Mahone’s brigade from behind the right of Thomas’ brigade of Pender’s division.  Mahone’s men silently advanced about 400 yards through the Bliss wheat field to the plank fence that separated it from the Bliss orchard.  The Virginians faced the Brian farm on Cemetery Ridge, between Ziegler’s Grove and the Copse of Trees.  Had they gone forward, they would have found themselves near Wright’s left, but by this time the Northerners were repulsing the rest of Anderson’s division as well as Longstreet’s men.
            Too late to assist the rest of their division, the Virginians remained in their advanced position, where they might participate in another assault—this one beginning far to their left.  East of Cemetery Hill Ewell converted the demonstration of his corps into an attack.  On Ewell’s far left as twilight gathered, Johnson’s division seized a toehold on Culp’s Hill.  On Johnson’s right at nightfall, Early’s division broke into the enemy trenches on East Cemetery Hill.  Rodes’ division maneuvered to attack West Cemetery Hill on the right of Early’s division.  Pender’s division of Hill’s Corps prepared to advance on the right of Rodes’ division, toward Cemetery Ridge.  Mahone’s brigade, the only fresh body of Confederates to the right of Pender’s division, stood where it could join an advance toward Cemetery Ridge. 
            Secessionist soldiers gathered around Mahone’s brigade behind the plank fence on the Bliss farm.  On the brigade’s far right, the 12th’s men could still see some arrive but only heard the muffled tread of others.  The regiment’s soldiers suspected they would make a night assault.  They discussed fastening white bandages to their left arms in case their suspicion proved true.  To their right and front, the fuse of an occasional shell blazed an arc through the sky.  The troops felt the order to advance would come soon.
Before Rodes’ division could get into position, the Federals drove Early’s division from East Cemetery Hill, leaving Rodes’ division, Pender’s division and Mahone’s brigade without any reason to advance.
            In front of the plank fence at 10 p.m., Longstreet and Anderson conferred.
            “It would be best not to make the attempt,” Longstreet said.  “Let the troops return.”  
            The assault column did not disperse for several hours.  Mahone’s brigade rejoined its skirmishers near the center of Lee’s army at 2:30 a.m.
            Brief artillery exchanges punctuated the morning of July 3.  The 12th’s men lay behind breastworks they had erected.  The Meherrin Grays or "Herrings," the 12th's Company I, relieved the Huger Grays on picket duty and skirmished around the Bliss farm.  The struggle swayed back and forth until about 11 a.m., when Yankees from Hays’ division burned the Bliss barn.
***
            By the morning of July 4, the Petersburg Regiment numbered 222 muskets and 22 officers.  Except for sharpshooting and minor artillery duels, the day passed quietly.  A drenching rain began that afternoon.  The 12th’s men dined on three-day old cornbread.  At dark they withdrew as quietly as possible, leaving fires along the lines burning brightly.  The Confederates abandoned most of their seriously wounded and headed southwest, toward Fairfield.  “We feel mortified at our failure, but rather pleased at the idea of once more going toward Dixie,” remembered the Riflemen's Private George Smith Bernard, a Petersburg lawyer.  The war’s bloodiest, most intense battle had ended.  The 12th’s casualty figures conveyed the battle’s ferocity.  Though uncommitted, the regiment lost forty-one soldiers, almost as many as at Seven Pines or Malvern Hill:  two killed, twenty-eight wounded and eleven missing.  The wounds of two proved mortal.  Ten other wounded fell into Yankee hands.  The enemy captured ten of the missing soldiers, all skirmishers.  The eleventh deserted.

--An excerpt from The Petersburg Regiment in the Civil War:  A History of the 12th Virginia Infantry from John Brown's Hanging to Appomattox, 1859-1865 (Savas Beatie, 2019) (footnotes omitted), all right reserved




Saturday, November 16, 2019

Flags of the 12th Virginia Infantry ("Petersburg Regiment"), Part 5: The 12th's Last Battle Flag

The Last Battle Flag of the 12th Virginia Infantry


Caption:  Stainback Flag Fragment.  The inscription reads:  This Remnant of 12th Va Infantry flag, was brought from Appomattox by a Corporal of the colorguard in his she.  The colorbearer divided the flag to keep the enemy from getting it.  The 12th never lost a flag, but lost 4 colorbearers that carried it.  
                                                                                    “(Requiescat in pace)”

Credit:  Francis Charles Stainback Collection, Virginia Military Institute Museum, Virginia Military Institute.

Caption:  Phillips Flag Fragment.  The inscription reads:  “This portion of a star is the center of star from the Battle Flag of the 12th Va Infantry, which I with my own hands tore it up at Appomattox when we surrendered on the 9th of April 1865.  I divided it out to those who wished a portion of it.  I have cut off four of the points from time to time one piece to D. M. Dunlop, one to Leroy S. Edwards & others.  I also have my sword which I had on and the dirt has never been wiped off since I returned.

“J. E. Phillips, Capt Richmond Grays”

Credit:  Elise Phillips Atkins, Arlington Heights, Ill.

Presentation

Shortly after the beginning of March 1864 a new battle flag arrived at the 12th Virginia’s camp, 

replacing the Petersburg Regiment’s old rag and reminding the troops that fighting would soon 

resume.[i]

The Wilderness
On May 6, 1864, the regiment charged in the forefront of Lt. Gen. James Longstreet’s flank attack at the battle of the Wilderness.  A minnie nicked the ankle of Sgt. William Crawford Smith, the 12th’s color bearer.  Ensign Benjamin Harrison May, a younger brother of the late Major May, took the battle flag.  “A splendid fellow he was, as brave as a lion and as gentle as a woman,” remembered Private George S. Bernard.[ii]  May had just obtained his medical degree in Philadelphia when the war began, but he enlisted as a private in the Petersburg City Guard and served with his four brothers.  After Second Manassas killed brother John, mortally wounded brother George and crippled brother James, Brig. Gen. William Mahone detailed Ben as assistant surgeon of the 12th to keep him out of harm’s way.  But as the 1864 campaign’s opening approached, Ben begged Mahone for permission to carry the regiment’s colors.  Mahone assented.  Ben became the 12th’s ensign on April 17.
Now May floundered knee deep through a swamp toward the plank road.  Lieutenant Colonel Gilbert Moxley Sorrel, who led the charge, spotted May.  “He was doing all that man could do with his colors, but seemed to be somewhat embarrassed by the bushes, and I thought perhaps I might help him to get them forward, mounted as I was,” Sorrel remembered.  He rode up and asked for the colors, which May refused to yield.
“We will follow you,” May told Sorrel.[iii]
Soon afterward part of the regiment crossed Orange Plank Road.  Falling back, this part of the 12th provoked friendly fire from the rest of its brigade that wounded Longstreet. 
Most of the bullets had flown around the flags, the best targets.   The regiment’s three soldiers struck by the volley included two of the color guard.  Color Cpl. John Mingea, who had returned from Tennessee with his friend Sergeant Smith to fight for Virginia, died instantly.  First Sergeant Benjamin B. White, another member of the color guard, took a bullet “on the side of the head and a portion of his brain ran out,” recalled Phillips, now a first lieutenant. “We left him on the ground going around & around on his elbow not knowing what he was doing.”[iv] Instead of diving for cover May made himself even more conspicuous.  “Ben May stood upon a stump, with his lithe, graceful form, a smile upon his face, waving our battle-flag until it was recognized,” recalled Sgt. William Watson Tayleure.[v]  
The shoeless Sergeant White staggered into the 12th’s bivouac next morning.  Lieutenant Phillips carried him to an ambulance corps man, who brought White to the regiment’s infirmary.  There White died.
Spotsylvania
On May 12, the regiment participated in a savage melee at Heth’s Salient, east of the Bloody Angle.  Ben May held the 12th's flag in one hand.  With his other he blazed away with his revolver.  A Federal plugged him from less than ten feet away.  The colors fell to the Richmond Grays’ Cpl. William Carrington Mayo.  A graduate of Yale fluent in a dozen languages, this engineer had returned from France on a blockade runner in early 1863 and immediately enlisted, refusing an officer’s commissioner.  Mayo’s hold on the banner lasted just seconds.  A Yankee drilled him in the chest.  The New Grays’ Pvt. Allen Washington Magee seized the flag.
Soon after the melee, the remnant of the 12th’s color guard stood near a dogwood.  A shell burst among these soldiers.  Two died instantly.  Private Magee, wounded in the left forearm, dropped the flag.  Lieutenant Phillips ran around the dogwood and picked up the colors.  Nearby Sergeant Smith, the lone member of the color guard still on his feet, had recovered from his wound of six days earlier.  Phillips gave the flag to Smith, who got through the fight unscathed despite the hail of lead that the colors drew.
May succumbed to his wound four days later.  Before he died, he sent a message to Sorrel about their encounter in the Wilderness:  “Tell Colonel Sorrel I could not part with the colors, but we followed him.”[vi]
The Crater
  The 12th’s new battle flag had flown untouched before the savage battle of the Crater on July 31, 1864.  During the regiment’s charge to retake earthworks north of the Crater, five balls pierced the battle flag’s bunting.  Three more struck its staff.  Within a minute of when Sergeant Smith planted the staff on the works, a ball from the Northerners knocked it down.  Smith stuck it back on the works.  The enemy shot the flag down again.  Yet again it went up.  Yet again it went down—this time with a shattered staff.  Smith bound its pieces together by lashing them to a ramrod.  Once more the banner went up.  Union minnies riddled its bunting.  After the battle, Sergeant Smith examined the colors.  Seventy-five bullets had passed through the flag.  Nine had struck the staff.  Mahone, now the division commander, sent for Smith and presented him with the staff of one of the Federal colors the 12th’s brigade had captured at the Crater.  Smith cut down the staff, then transferred to it the Petersburg Regiment’s bullet-torn old rag.
Globe Tavern
At the battle of Globe Tavern, the 12th and the rest of its brigade found themselves nearly surrounded.  A soldier who stood between the brigadier and Sergeant Smith was pointing to a sword leaning against a tree and inquiring about the blade’s ownership when a bullet hit him in the face, killing him instantly.  For at least twelve feet on each side of the regiment’s banner, every man of the color guard fell killed or wounded except Smith and one other.  The 12th’s men stripped their colors from the staff and hid them in a haversack to save them from capture.
Appomattox
At Appomattox on April 9, 1865, rather than surrender the 12th's old rag, Lieutenant Phillips and Sergeant Smith tore up that bullet-riddled banner.  Taking a star and a part of the red and white colors for his own, Phillips distributed the rest to anyone else who wished a scrap.  Corporal Francis Charles Stainback walked home with the portion of the flag reading “12th. Va.” in his shoe.  After Phillips returned home, he shared four of his star’s five points with comrades.
Federal sources mistakenly claimed that on April 6, 1865, at Sailor’s Creek, two Federal cavalrymen of Custer’s division captured flags that belonged to the 12th Virginia Infantry.   Custer/s troops charged “the enemy’s wagon train” and captured 300 wagons and much of Ewell’s command.[vii]  The flags that Custer’s men allegedly captured from the 12th bore neither unit designation nor battle honors.  On June 4, 1892, before any controversy regarding the regiment’s banner had arisen, Lieutenant Phillips wrote:  “The Flag we had at Appomattox was not surrendered but cut up in places….”[viii] 
In 1905, the United States government returned to Virginia flags that now hang in the American Civil War Museum (formerly the Museum of the Confederacy) in Richmond, Virginia.  Their misidentification of two as banners of the Petersburg Regiment touched off a flurry of letters from the regiment’s veterans.  “The 12th Virginia infantry flag was not surrendered,” wrote Phillips after explaining that the 12th had not become engaged at Sailor’s Creek.  “I with my own hands tore it to pieces….”[ix]  He stated that he still had the star he had taken for himself.  Phillips’ granddaughter had it in her possession when I photographed it years ago in Arlington Heights, Illinois.  Attached to it is Phillips’ inscription, which states that the star is “from the Battle Flag of the 12th Va Infantry, which I with my own hands tore it up at Appomattox when we surrendered on the 9th of April 1865….”[x]  The 12th’s Pvt. James Cook Birdsong corroborated Phillips, writing, “The regimental flag…was not surrendered,” and also insisting that the 12th did not fight at Sailor’s Creek.  “When the regiment stacked arms after surrender, the flag was cut up by the boys….”[xi]
Conclusive evidence came from Cpl. Francis C. Stainback—the portion of the flag that reads “12th. Va.”  It rests in the Museum of Virginia Military Institute. Stainback's inscription, which accompanies the fragment, states that he brought it away from Appomattox in his shoe, that the flag was divided to keep the enemy from getting it, and that the 12th never lost a flag.[xii]


[i] George S. Bernard, War Talks of Confederate Veterans (Petersburg: Fenn & Owen, 1892), 184.
[ii] Ibid., 91.
[iii] Ibid., 88, 90.
[iv] James Eldred Phillips, “Sixth Corporal,” James Eldred Phillips Papers, Virginia Historical Society, Richmond, Virginia.
[v] Bernard, War Talks, 94n.
[vi] Ibid., 106.
[vii] OR Series 1, 46:1, 591-592, 1132, 1136, 1258-1259.
[viii] Letter, James E. Phillips to George S. Bernard, June 4, 1892, Bernard Papers, Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
[ix] “Capt. Jim Has A Star From Flag:  Tore Up Twelfth Virginia Colors to Prevent Their Surrender at Appomattox,” unidentified newspaper clipping, n.d., James Eldred Phillips Papers, Private Collection of Elise Phillips Atkins, Arlington Heights, Illinois.
[x] Star Fragment, Phillips Papers, Private Collection of Elise Phillips Atkins.
[xi] James C. Birdsong, “Error As To Flags Of 12th Virginia:  That Regiment Fought Its Last Battle Near Farmville, Not at Sailor’s Creek,” Richmond Times-Dispatch, March 31, 1907.
[xii] Francis Charles Stainback Collection, Virginia Military Institute Museum, Virginia Military Institute, Lexington, Virginia.







Friday, November 8, 2019

Flags of the 12th Virginia Infantry ("Petersburg Regiment"), Part 4: The Second Battle Flag, Late 1863

Caption:  Captain Nathaniel Harris’ Sketch of the Petersburg Regiment’s Second Battle Flag

Credit:  George S. Bernard Papers, Southern Historical Collection

Toward the end of 1863, the 12th Virginia's flag bore the names of more than a dozen battles from Seven Pines through Second Brandy Station according to the sketch drawn by the Commissioner chosen by the Cockade City to carry extra food and clothing to its soldiers, Captain Nathaniel Cole Harrison, who had a son in one of those companies:  Cpl. William Henry Harrison of the Petersburg City Guard, the Petersburg Regiment's Company A.  Shortly after the beginning of March 1864 a new battle flag arrived at the 12th’s camp, replacing the regiment’s old rag and reminding the troops that fighting would soon resume; it would be the 12th's last battle flag. [1]   



[1] George S. Bernard, War Talks of Confederate Veterans (Petersburg: Fenn & Owen, 1892), 184.