Touch the Elbow - Blogging the Civil War

On a day when those turkeys that have been fortunate enough to have escaped the bloodletting gather together and give thanks for their survival and high school football rules in New England thoughts turn to the past.




As a direct descendant of fourteen Mayflower passengers I'm always reflective of that first harsh winter they spent huddled in misery along the shore of Cape Cod Bay. It was a time of fear, of short food supplies, and a time when death stalked their settlement with an unimpeded walk. It was a time when they would bury their dead in the ink like black of night to secret their shrinking numbers from the ever watchful eyes of the native Wampanoags, when mothers and fathers willingly sacrificed themselves by giving up their own rations to their children to ensure they would not starve and would survive into the spring.

I'm reflective, too, of Thanksgiving 1862, when the innocence of war had worn off and the grim reality of slaughter had set in among the opposing campfires and the fireside hearths at home.


Letter from Corp. William P. Alderman, Co. I, to his parents Daniel and Electra Alderman

Head Quarters 18th Mass. Regt. Vols.
Camp in Virginia
November 27, 1862

Dear Father and Mother,
It is Thanksgiving morning and the sun is shining brightly on our camp and everything in nature bids fair for a beautiful day in which to keep the annual festival of our dear old Massachusetts. And although we can not meet in our homes with those dear friends as we did in years gone by, to partake of the choicest fruits in season, and the fat of the land and exchange sentiments of love and friendship on this anniversary day beneath the paturnal roof. In the heart of every son of Massachusetts who today is away from his home and in the Army, turns involuntarily to at home where he knows dear friends will miss him and his name will be often repeated in the wish often expressed that he were here. But we cannot today meet our friends round the cheerful fireside as we could wish to do and so we will content ourselves with imagining how things are at home.


Letter from 1st Lt. George M. Barnard, Co. C, to his mother Susan
Near Fredericksburg Nov 27, 1862

Dear Mother
I have just got an Atlantic Monthly and…. Also some papers which are a great treat. About ten days ago Capt. Motley of the cavalry said that if we happened to be any where near each other we must manage to dine together on Thanksgiving day so I went over there today and he got leave of absence for a short time and we took a ride together. After great exertion we got a piece of boney beef and had a soup made of it, put in some curry and a few pieces of hard bread and had quite a nice dinner. Our table was a hard bread box and we sat on the ground. Instead of dining at twelve o’clck we dined today at three so as to make it seem a little more like home.