Gettysburg

Sunny - Before the snows came.

The snow in Gettysburg has kept me away from the stable where I board my horse.  Sunny, a bright-eyed Appaloosa, was inside all this time, a prisoner in his stall – unable to run or play with his best friend, Teddy, a sleek Arabian, in the 40 – 50 inches of snow covering the outdoor ring and paddocks.  I knew he would be well cared for at my stable, but felt serious guilt anyway for “neglecting him.

He must be missing me terribly, I thought – lonely, morose, moping about like a lost soul.  So today I finally made my way out there, expecting that Sunny might be a bit peeved at my neglect, expecting him to be somewhat hyper after his long confinement, but also thinking how happy he’d be to see me.

Imagine my chagrin, when I found Sunny well-groomed, hooves clean as a whistle, well-fed, warm as toast in the heated barn in his clean stall, and not particularly caring whether I was there or not. Now Sunny is a fairly new horse to me.  He has only been mine for six months or so.  We’re still getting to know one another, but yet I expected him to be waiting to see me with open affection.  This was not to be.

After I stroked him a while, and whispered softly in his ear, he did begin to nudge and niggle at my sleeve. Ah ha, he did miss me.  That is what I was thinking until it dawned on me he simply wanted a treat.  Yes, there I was, a mere “pez dispenser,” on hand for Sunny’s pleasure, and a slave to his hungry eyes.  I was, as you might imagine, very satisfied with the wonderful care he was receiving, but at the same time frustrated that I was not more needed by this great animal I have learned to love…ah well.

I know that Sunny and I are a new match, and I know that there’ll come a time when our relationship will go beyond my being the big human who grooms him, gets on his back, makes him work, then gives him a treat for his trouble.  But, alas, I fear my attachment for Sunny is moving much faster than his for me … other than those pez’s … which are in reality an apple or a carrot.  Right now I’m satisfied that he knows I’m in charge, which makes it safer when I ride him, but the rest will take more time.

In the hope of speeding that bond along, I groomed him, threw my western saddle gently on his back, and rode him for the first time in many days in the indoor arena.  I did some ground work to settle him down. This is a sweet horse – spirited, but sweet.  He was hyper from being cooped up a while, but nonetheless responsive, and was being a joy to ride – to a point. He was fine until I tried a little jog – opps!

I was told by the amazed on-lookers that it was a joy to watch.  With huge smiles they saw Sunny bunny-hopping across the arena, with me fast in the saddle, but hopping up and down with him just like an old western movie … and a bad one at that.  He settled down, and I thanked him for the invigorating ride with a pat on his neck and a few whispered words.  He snorted a patient approval of my staying on his back, as if to say, “OK, you passed.”  We continued to work the arena, and it was a great ride, if not a close and personal bonding experience.

I’ll keep at it, and I’ll try not to worry about him at the stable pining away without me.  Mostly, I’ll continue to reach out for that bonding I know will come in time, at his own speed, when I can graduate from Pez Dispenser to senior partner and faithful friend.

OK – I fall on my sword!  Was that me who wrote that Gettysburg never got snow like I grew up with in New York?

Robbie - The Snow Dog. At two feet he wasn't so happy to frolic ... it was over his inquisitive little head.

The Weather Gods proved me wrong – go figure. At my house we had over twenty inches the first go-round, and expect 8-10 more.  My plow guy didn’t get to us on his huge and demanding list until Sunday night, so I’ve been snowed in … imagine that.  You’d think that would give me lots of time to blog and Facebook, but it didn’t.

I chose to use the time to tackle a long-overdue a project.  I prepared a talk (PowerPoint) for Civil War Round Tables, and anyone else who will listen, on Lincoln’s personal security – or lack thereof. I became obsessed, and when that happens and I’m creating, I go into a bubble of intense focus until I’m satisfied with what I’m writing, photographing, or otherwise creating.

Work all night, sleep until noon, then back at it again … until it’s finished.  I made it, but it took a few days until I was pleased with the end result.  It timed beautifully with the snow.

When I research, or I should say, re-research an area of history, it is always fun, because each tid bit is like a new revelation.  Even if I knew it already somewhere in the historical archives in my mind – that quiet place I call my “history cave” – it’s still like picking up a bright new penny.  During this project, it was a piece of history that to me smacks of the stuff modern thrillers are made of … a real “24″ chair-grabber in the 1860s.

Abraham Lincoln

It has been called “The Baltimore Plot,” but should have been called “The Red Ballot.”  It is the story behind the assassination plot against Abraham Lincoln in February 1861, on his journey through Baltimore to his first inauguration in Washington.  This story has spies doing exceptional and dangerous undercover work, calamitous political intrigue, heros who save the day – indeed perhaps the country – in the nick of time, a romantic angle, and the strong ring of truth that resonates into our own time.

Are you intrigued yet ?  Well you’ll have to wait.  At least until tomorrow.  Then I’ll spin the “Tale of the Red Ballot.”

So we had a bit of snow in Gettysburg – again … and I mean a bit.  Not worth mentioning, but I understand some other areas rather close by were hit harder.  It’s funny how snow fall is so relative to what you’re used to having, at least to me.  I’m from upstate New York, Syracuse to be exact.  We never thought about closing schools or being “snowed in” until we had 8 – 20 inches, and that kind of snow fall was common.  To us it was just weather.  A natural occurrence.  Here in Gettysburg, a few inches causes major worry.

Mike pointing at 'snow emergency' in London

That’s relative as well.  Not too long ago Mike Vice and I were in London on a book project, and they had what they called a major blizzard – emergency conditions.  It shut down the entire town – almost panic in the streets – grocery stores doing a land office business as folks stocked up – being warned not to venture out unless absolutely necessary.

There was what I would characterize as ‘a dusting,’ as you can see by the picture of Mike smiling ironically as he points at the “massive snowfall.”  When I lived in D.C. it was much the same.  It’s all in your perspective and what your used to dealing with.  I, for one, enjoy the snow and consider risking its perils another adventure, another challenge worth taking.

On the other hand, I must admit, I’m getting pretty fed up with the severe and constant cold weather this year in our part of the country.  Where’s all that global warming when you need it?  Spring can not come too soon.

Captain Henry Thompson, commanding A Company, 6th Michigan Cavalry, I’m sure, felt that the charge General Custer ordered at Hunterstown was too brash a move.  Because of a bend in the road and a ridge behind the initial Confederate line, they had no idea how many of the enemy were in their front. Further, the road had a strong fence on both sides, which meant they could not deploy, but had to charge in a tight and vulnerable column.  Lastly, Custer’s artillery was plainly already deploying by the time the order was given, thus negating its purpose.

Whether Custer observed Thompson dragging his feet to obey the order, or saw that the men of A Company were skittish in their saddles, he sprang into action.  Telling his staff to remain behind, he rode in front of A Company, drew his saber, and said something like, “I’ll lead you today, boys!”  With that he was off, a Brigadier General leading Thompson and his 50 odd men into the unknown – talk about high-priced help.

Hunterstown Battle

It looked promising at first, with the enemy skirmish line broken and withdrawing as the cavalrymen charged on.  Things went rapidly wrong.  As they passed the Gilbert Farm on their right, and pressed deeper into the Confederates, they basically entered a kill zone.  They took severe fire from the farm buildings and fields on their right, as well as suffering sustained fire from their front.

Then it really went bad.  Almost instantaneously their entire officer command structure disappeared.  Custer was unhorsed, Thompson was wounded and unhorsed, and their third, and only other officer, was thrown to the ground by his mount.  Having now had time to react, other elements from the Confederate rear guard hidden from sight over the ridge came into view charging down on the now confusing melee.

Custer was saved only by the quick and gallant actions of one of the troopers, who carried him on the back of his horse through the Confederates to Federal lines.  Thompson was also carried back, but the third officer was apparently captured.

This incident was overshadowed by Custer’s heroic charge the very next day (3 July 1863) with the entire Michigan Wolverine Brigade, and very little has been mentioned of this debacle in basic history books.  It does, however, remind one of a similar futile and ill-fated charge under another flamboyant commander not so many years before in the Crimea – “The Charge of the Light Brigade.”

Custer’s actions, although not inconsistent with what I’ve read about him, were rash to say the least.  To this writer, he wasted his men’s lives.  On the other hand, although you might fault him for his judgement, you certainly can’t argue with his courage.

I won’t bore you with the details leading up to the engagement at Hunterstown (referred to often as the Battle of North Cavalry Field) on 2 July 1863, during the Gettysburg campaign.  There are those who have done a much better job of it, such as Eric Wittenberg and J. David Petruzzi, in their recently published, Plenty of Blame to Go Around; Rummel’s Cavalry on the Roads to Gettysburg; and Longacre’s The Cavalry at Gettysburg. It even played a significant role in my most recent novel, The Gettysburg Conspiracy.

Suffice to say, in the vicinity of Gettysburg, two Federal cavalry brigades were in search of the anchor of the Confederate left flank.  Between Hunterstown and Gettysburg, these brigades found their prey.  They engaged the former Cobb’s Legion, led at Gettysburg by Confederate Brigadier General Wade Hampton, supported by other elements of Stuart’s rear guard.

Custer wearing Maj Gen straps, but in approximately the same uniform as at Hunterstown. Note the one star on his collar.

What struck me about all this, and why I find research so fascinating, was that a certain well-known Union general led a tiny part of one of these brigades in a very strange and rather foolhardy charge against the Confederate rear guard.  It was the unknown first stab at glory of Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer – before real fame took a hand.

The first amazing fact is that Custer, a junior staff officer (Lieutenant, then Captain), was promoted all the way to Brigadier General of Volunteers only days before this engagement (29 June 1863), by Major General Alfred Pleasanton, as part of his shake up of the cavalry corps when he took command.  He was given command of  2nd Brigade, 3rd Division, Federal Cavalry Corps – The Michigan Brigade. He wore an improvised uniform, and I’m certain had to be somewhat overwhelmed by his sudden rise – his ego notwithstanding.

As his brigade left Hunterstown swinging south toward Gettysburg, they saw a significant Confederate force taking positions about a mile ahead.  It was, indeed, the Confederate rear guard.  Custer was first to arrive.  He dismounted his cavalry troops, deployed them on both sides of the road, then instructed his artillery onto a ridge.

This is about when things went a bit offish.  Custer ordered Captain Henry Thompson, commanding Company A, 6^th Michigan Cavalry, with his approximately 50 cavalrymen to charge down the road into the Confederates.  His stated reason was to give time for his artillery to properly deploy. Thompson and his men were seasoned troopers, they must have seen the artillery already taking position, and the prospect of this mad charge wasn’t greeted with great joy.

The crossroads known as Hunterstown, 1863

Battle of Huntertown, along the Hunterstown - Gettysburg Road

British observers on McClellan's staff. Charles Fletcher is seated on the far right, and Edward Neville is also seated, third in from the right.

Almost everyone you talk to about British military observers in the American Civil War can think of only one – Lieutenant Colonel Arthur James Lyon Freemantle, Coldstream Guards. Freemantle is considered by most as a British military observer who chose to remain with, and ‘observe’ the southern side. Because perhaps of the fame of Freemantle through his book, Three Months in the Southern States, or possibly as a result of how he was portrayed in the recent movie, Gettysburg, even historians are unaware of two important historical facts:

1.  Although Freemantle was an officer of the Coldstream Guards, he was on leave of absence while in the States, likely didn’t have a uniform with him, wore tweeds most of the time, and was – in point of fact – more a “tourist” than anything else.  (David Horn, the then curator of the Guards Museum, London, and a renowned historian, tried to tell the Gettysburg movie folks these facts, but they insisted on putting Freenantle in a scarlet uniform as an official British observer at Gettysburg, regardless – Go figure.)

Lt Col Arthur Freemantle (In later years)

2.  On the other hand, there were a dozen or so authorized British military observers with General McClellan and the Federal Army of the Potomac for several months in 1862.  These officers, mostly from Guards regiments and the Royal Artillery, came south from Canada to join Little Mac’s staff.

You see, a brigade of Guards and other regiments, with accompanying artillery, had been sent to Canada by Her Majesty Queen Victoria in response to the “Trent” affair on the high seas.  During this incident, two Confederate politicians were taken from a British ship, HMS Trent, causing great outrage in Britain.  By the time these elite British troops arrived in Canada, things were smoothed over between President Lincoln and the Queen, and a nasty potential war on our northern border was averted.  This left these officers sitting in Canada with practically nothing to do.  Why not observe this “Yank” war first hand?

It is one of these British observers, Ian Carlyle, in the Scots Fusilier Guards, who is the hero of my recently released novel, The Gettysburg Conspiracy.  I modeled my character, Ian, after two of the actual observers on McClellan’s staff, Charles Edward Fletcher and Edward Neville.  They can be seen in the photographic image at the beginning of this blog.  These were both fine officers.

By the way, I survived the dentist.  My cunning plan worked like a charm.

Photographic image of British and other foreign observers with the Federal Army

Last night I attended one of the most spectacular events I’ve seen thus far at the Majestic Theater, Gettysburg, PA.  It was the Irish Guards Band, and the Argyll and Sutherland Highlander Pipes and Drums. They were magnificent.

Irish Guards Band

They made the modest stage sparkle and pop endlessly throughout the performance.  Toe-tapping Irish, Scottish, Welsh, English, and even American tunes, and brisk martial music brought the audience, a full house, to their feet.  The scurl of the pipes stirred many a heart, including mine.

Argyll and Sutherland Highlander Piper

Musicians came into the audience, delighfully surprising many listeners, and playing flawlessly – trumpets, pipers, and even a post horn … there was no dozing this night.  Their quietly poignant and beautifully played rendering of “Taps,” and the British equivalent, “Last Post,” was something I will remember for a long time.

I had thought the strikingly refurbished Majestic Theater too small for a marching band with pipes and drums, but it certainly was not.   Their marching on that tiny stage was, in itself, something to behold.

I spoke to several of the Irish Guards lads during intermission, and was pleased to find we had many mutual friends among the Scots Guards, whom I met doing research at Wellington Barracks, London.  After the performance was over, for some unknown reason, these lads managed to find their way to the Garryowen Irish Pub, where we were able to share a pint of two or three or four.

Drums of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders

It was a good night had by all, and when I go to the UK on tour in April/May, I’m certain we’ll meet up again.  Two lads, Kalvyn and Mick, actually hang out in my favorite local in London, The Cardinal Pub, so I know we’ll be meeting up.  Besides, I think they owe me a pint … or me them.

Irish Guardsmen chatting with Jeffrey Gabel, Founding Executive Director, Majestic Theater - Gettysburg

Garryowen

New mates in pub - sorry for the bad pic ... I suspect you understand

The Gettysburg Conspiracy by Will Hutchison

Today was an interesting day.  I heard Abraham Lincoln speaking my words in a scene from The Gettysburg Conspiracy, the latest release in my Ian Carlyle Series.

The book – A British officer in the Scots Fusilier Guards is an observer on General McClellan’s staff in the American Civil War. Assigned to the British Legation in Washington, he soon – against his will – becomes involved in a plot by rogue British industrialists to assassinate Abraham Lincoln .  The plot culminates in an attempt on Lincoln’s life while he is in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, to give his famous address.  Ian must protect his country’s integrity, his family name, and, indeed, the President of the United States.

I reside in Gettysburg now and have been visiting it regularly for over twenty years.

When I think of Abraham Lincoln, in appearance and voice, I think of James

James Getty as Abraham Lincoln riding a white horse as he did to and from the cemetery where he gave the Gettysburg Address

Getty.  Jim has been giving spectacular historical impressions of Lincoln to Gettysburg tourists for thirty years, and indeed is recognized internationally as a Lincoln authority.

Not long ago I was asked to do an interview and reading from The Gettysburg Conspiracy for ACTV, the local television station.  Jim and I had actually done a similar reading earlier at a Book Launch in Gettysburg (http://willhutchison.com/blog/2009/12/06/cocktails-conversation-and-conspiracy-at-the-majestic-theater-gettysburg/).  Thus, I asked him if he would join me at this reading as well.  He, as usual, was very gracious and accepted my invitation.

Today we went to the studio for the interview.  ”Mister Lincoln” and I did a reading on camera of an excerpt from Chapter 21 of The Gettysburg Conspiracy.  The scene involved both Ian and President Lincoln in the garden at a White House reception.  I meant the scene to be a poignant confrontation, observed by Ian.  I read Ian’s thoughts and actions, while Jim read the words I wrote for Mister Lincoln to speak.

I can not tell you what an emotional experience it was for me to hear the words I wrote spoken by Abraham Lincoln.

The interview will be shown locally, and may be picked up by other area stations.  I also hope to get a copy to put on YouTube, and elsewhere as a video.  I will make it available through this blog and Facebook soon.

James Getty's Website: www.jimgetty.com

Garryowen Irish Pub, Gettysburg, PA

I was browsing on the web following up on a tweet I had received, and looking for a group of writers I might join in the Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, area. There was one, but it said ‘private’ and that seemed to defeat its purpose, so I moved on.

I noticed on the Meetup.com site a place to “start your own meetup group” with a self constructed web page – and with simple instructions even I could follow.  The rest, as they say, is history.

I’m now the organizer, at least temporarily, of a group willing to meet at the Garryowen Irish Pub in Gettysburg on each Wednesday night, 7-9 pm, to share and discuss techniques of writing, book publishing, book promotion/marketing, and anything else we can think of.  The fact is, three or four local writers have been meeting at the Garryowen on Wednesdays for some time, so it wasn’t much of a stretch – more an expansion.

I envisioned an informal gathering of writers with few rules – after all we’re meeting in a pub!  Topics will be decided at the previous meeting and announced on the web site. We’ll have dinner (Wonderful food at the Garryowen Irish Pub), paid for individually by each of those attending, and a few libations of your choice, complimented by lively discussions of topics important to anyone wanting to torture themselves into becoming a writer.

We actually had our first ‘formal’ (although it was terribly informal) meeting last night.  Five attended: four writers, and one world traveler who should be writing a book.  We intend to talk him into it.  The pub as a meeting place worked like a charm.  The owner and host, Kevin, and the managers, Anne and Josh, are most accommodating and gracious.

As it happened, the writers present were either published or about to be.  The group, however, is open to all writers at whatever stage in their writerly efforts they find themselves, even if they merely have a book in their heads they’d love to write.  Our world traveler describes himself as just a ‘reader,’ and he’s most welcome too.

I believe this group can be many things to many people. To begin with, it’s good to get together with a group of like-minded folks for a pleasant discussion, good food, and companionship. In addition, the discussions about various aspects of writing and getting published help us all in perfecting our craft, publication, and promotional efforts.

We hope to draw more participants over the next few weeks.  If your reading this (God, I hope someone is), and you’re in driving range – come join us and I’ll buy you a pint.

Gettysburg Writers Meetup Group –     http://www.meetup.com/Gettysburg-Writers-Meetup-Group/

We had a lovely time in Louisiana, and gracious hosts who couldn’t have been kinder.  There is an amazing and refreshing clarity about renewing family ties.  On the other hand, as much as I enjoy Thomas Wolfe, sometimes you can go home again.

Yes, I love driving though this country, but there is certainly something to be said for coming home, especially if that home is in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  The soft lights on the side of the red bricks; the snow-covered lawn marred only by the tacks of small critters and the family of deer who live in our woods; the warm homey smells when you enter the door; the invigorating sparkle and quick renewal of taking a long slow shower in your own bathroom, surrounded by your own things; and, of course, the luxury of fresh clean sheets, smelling of your soap’s fragrance; and warm blankets in your own bed…heaven.

Sleep now … blog-writing later … perhaps tomorrow … forgive me, but I must re-energize.