Valentine’s Day During the Civil War

Hearts in the Midst of Battle: Valentine’s Day During the Civil War

There’s a powerful image that lingers in many American minds each February: couples holding hands, whispering “be mine” as hearts and candies fill the stores. But what did Valentine’s Day look like in the 1860s, when the nation was torn in two and hundreds of thousands of soldiers were scattered across battlefields far from home? For countless families, lovers, wives, and sweethearts, the holiday’s traditional celebration was colored by separation, fear, heartbreak—and, in some cases, remarkable expressions of love that survive to this day.

The Civil War did not erase Valentine’s Day; it transformed it. In fact, newspapers in both the North and South reminded readers that February 14 was near, much like modern ads highlight holidays now. One rural Ohio paper declared, as February approached, “We are reminded that Valentine Day is approaching. Tuesday next, the 14th inst., is set aside as the carnival of lovers,” and cheekily noted that “it is said the birds choose their mates on that day.” Even under the shadow of war, the rituals of love remained compelling enough to merit space on the printed page. (The Journal of the Civil War Era)

Valentines on the Home Front

On the home front, Americans eagerly anticipated valentines. Commercial Valentine producers actively pitched their wares, especially to women whose beloveds were away serving. Advertisements from 1862 urged buyers not to “forget your soldier lovers” and to “Keep their courage up with a rousing Valentine,” available in prices from six cents to five dollars. The American Valentine Company in New York sold “soldiers’ valentine packets,” while vendors in Washington, D.C., offered “comic valentines and beautiful valentine cards in fancy envelopes.” (The Journal of the Civil War Era)

Picture a bookstore window in February 1862: the display filled with cards “large and varied enough to suit the tastes of all,” sitting beside public notices about wounded veterans seeking pensions and announcements of troop movements. This juxtaposition—romance and war news side by side—captures how life and love persisted even amid chaos. (The Journal of the Civil War Era)

Yet Valentine’s Day in this era wasn’t only about pretty cards. Commercial cards coexisted with deeply personal, handmade expressions of affection. On both sides of the conflict, lovers crafted messages and tokens infused with longing, devotion, and the real fear of loss.

Soldiering and Sentiment

Many soldiers lacked access to commercial cards, so they turned to their own pens—or knives—to craft valentines. In one of the most haunting surviving examples of Civil War romance, Confederate soldier Robert H. King created a delicate paper heart for his wife, Louiza, using only a penknife and scraps of paper. The heart appears perforated with random holes, but when opened and studied more closely, the design reveals two figures seated opposite each other, weeping. (The Journal of the Civil War Era)

Robert H. King’s valentine for Louiza. Courtesy of the Library of Virginia.
Robert H. King’s valentine for Louiza. This paper valentine was cut with a knife and when opened features a couple weeping. Courtesy of the Library of Virginia.

This wasn’t mere symbolism; it was a heartfelt expression of separation. In a letter dated November 8, 1861, King wrote to Louiza, “it panes my hart to think of leaven you all,” signing the letter, as many soldiers did, “yours til death.” Tragically, that vow proved bitterly accurate: Robert H. King died of typhoid fever near Petersburg, Virginia, in April 1863. Louiza treasured the paper heart for the rest of her life. (The Journal of the Civil War Era)

King’s handwritten words and painstakingly crafted heart remind us that Valentine’s Day in 1863 could be an exercise in longing as much as celebration: letters carried love across miles of battlefield and barbed wire, binding spirits together when flesh and bone could not.

Below is an example of a friendly Valentine taken from letter written by Dexter Buell, Co. B, 27th Regt. New York State Volunteers to his friend Robert Allee:

“Bob, today is Valentine’s Day. I wish I had one to send to you. Bob, the boys are all busy making finger rings and pipes,&c. to fetch home with them. We make them out of laurel roots. I am making a pipe and ring for you out of laurel root. Bob, I guess you had a pretty nice time with the girls. I have not seen a girl in so long I forgot how they look.”

The following is an excerpt of a letter from Josiah Cole Reed of the 94th Ohio Infantry to Elizabeth “Lizzie” Freeman, written February 26, 1865:

“On glancing at this letter I see so many omissions and mistakes that I am afraid to read it over for fear I will become so disgusted with it as to tear it up and then I would have to write another. I shall expect an answer to this in two weeks. Shall I be disappointed? Of course your convenience will not be overlooked. I only me(an) that I hope it will be convenient for you to answer immediately, that I may receive a good, long, sweet letter in two weeks.

Received three valentines but none worth anything

I remain as ever your true friend, — J. Reed”

Lines of Poetry Across the Lines

Not all expressions took the form of art objects. Some soldiers poured their emotions into verse. In 1863 a Virginian soldier penned verses to a woman named Mollie Lyne, capturing a soldier’s conflicted heart:

Mid all the trials and toils of war,
The clash of arms, the cannon’s roar,
The many scenes of desolation and strife,
And varying fortunes which surround this life.
Naught else disturbs me, half so much,
As the nightly visions which haunt my couch.
But why should I not be happy?
Ah! Methinks that thou canst tell,
Thou hast me bound, as if by spell,
I love thee Mollie, with all my heart. (HistoryNet)

Elsewhere, Private Joseph C. Morris of the Phillips Legion Cavalry wrote to his beloved Sylvanie Bremond on February 14, 1865:

“Moments appear days to me, and day an age…when I cannot behold your beloved face….Why have we passion? If upon the first development of their genuine tenderness they must be curbed and checked by the arbitrary rules of war.” (HistoryNet)

These words, polished under the pressure of a brutal war, transcend commercial sentiment. They reflect longing intensified by the real possibility that a lover might never return.

Comic, Satirical, and Patriotic Valentines

On the other end of the emotional spectrum were comic and satirical valentines that used humor to process the absurdity and sorrow of their times. Some Civil War valentines, preserved in collections like the Library Company of Philadelphia, poke fun at soldiers’ appearances, behaviors, and reputations. One verse reads:

“Mr. Rifleman…If you think that with you I would wed…Like a turnip, my dear, is your head.
So with you I’ll never wed.”
(Civil War Monitor)

Civil War Vinegar Valentine
Civil War Vinegar Valentine featuring the lines:
“Mr. Rifleman, but I would be a flat, / If you think that with you I would wed: / Cheeks put out your eyes — nose turn’d to the skies— / Like a turnip, my dear, is your head. / One like you is enough for a bed, / So with you I’ll never wed.”

Others lampooned Copperheads—Northern Democrats critical of the war effort—branding them unworthy of affection. Still others embraced patriotic sentiment, promising devotion to “my valiant son of Mars” who defended the flag. (Civil War Monitor)

These valentines reveal that love and war could coexist with biting wit and public commentary. Americans did not silence humor or satire because of conflict; they redirected it into familiar cultural forms.

Lasting Legacies of Civil War Valentines

Valentine’s Day in the Civil War era reminds us that love persists even in the darkest times. The war’s devastation—the sight of dead battlefields, grieving families, and endless hardship—did not diminish the human need to express affection. Instead, it made those expressions all the more poignant.

Commercial cards flourished alongside handmade creations. Soldiers’ letters survive as testaments to yearning and devotion. Printed verses and home-crafted hearts became vessels of emotion, capable of bridging battle lines and years of separation. In writings like those of Robert H. King and Private Morris, we see what it meant to love someone across the divide of war—and to risk having that love be all you have left.

Civil War valentines and love letters are an excellent reminder that behind all of the photographs, archives, and accoutrements Civil War collectors treasure, those items all belonged to real human beings, who just like us, fell in love. Unfortunately, many of them, like Robert H. Kind, did not get a happily ever after with their loved one.

Sources

 

Voices from the 126th Ohio Infantry

“In Answer to the Call”: Voices from the 126th Ohio Infantry

The Concise History of the One Hundred and Twenty-Sixth Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Infantry is more than a regimental outline. Written by veterans of the unit, it preserves the voices, memories, and emotional texture of men who lived the war day by day. What follows are selected quotations and personal passages that illuminate the lived experience of the 126th Ohio Infantry — from early enthusiasm, to sickness and hardship, to battle and reflection.

“We Were Soon Soldiers”: Enlistment and Early Service

The history opens with a clear sense of purpose. The men of eastern Ohio responded quickly to the emergency of 1862:

“In answer to the President’s call for troops, the One Hundred and Twenty-Sixth Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Infantry, was organized at Camp Steubenville, September 4, 1862.”

There is little romanticism here — simply the fact of duty answered. Yet beneath that formality lies an unspoken truth: most of these men had never expected to become soldiers. The narrative soon shifts from organization to reality.

Sickness Before Battle: Camp Life and Disease

Before facing Confederate fire, the regiment encountered one of the war’s most relentless enemies — disease. While stationed along the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad during the winter of 1862–63, illness swept through the camp:

“Typhoid fever and small-pox broke out in the regiment, and in consequence of being crowded in tents, six men in each company died.”

The author pauses to acknowledge civilian compassion during this dark time:

“The citizens of Martinsburg took many of the sick soldiers into their homes, where they were tenderly cared for.”

This small but powerful passage reminds us that survival often depended as much on kindness as on medicine.

First Fire: Martinsburg and the Retreat to the Potomac

The regiment’s first significant combat came in June 1863 at Martinsburg, Virginia. Here the tone of the narrative becomes urgent and personal:

“The artillery opened upon us with great fury, and the enemy advanced in heavy force… After stubborn resistance, we were compelled to fall back.”

The retreat was grueling, culminating in a dangerous crossing of the Potomac River:

“Completely exhausted, the men waded the Potomac, many falling from sheer weakness, but all struggling on to reach the northern bank.”

These lines convey fear and fatigue without exaggeration — a hallmark of veteran-written history.

The Immensity of War: Marching After Gettysburg

In the aftermath of Gettysburg, the regiment joined the pursuit of Lee’s army. One of the most evocative passages in the book captures the overwhelming scale of the Union forces on the move:

“Words seemed meaningless to convey to the mind the vast multitude, the martial music, the tramp, tramp, tramp of soldiers, the long lines of wagons, ambulances, and artillery stretching as far as the eye could reach.”

This is not a tactical description, but a sensory one — the sound, movement, and sheer magnitude of war as experienced by a foot soldier.

Faith, Reflection, and Camp Religion

Some of the most personal material in the regimental history comes from Chaplain J. K. Andrews, whose diary entries provide rare insight into the inner life of the regiment.

While in winter quarters near Brandy Station, Andrews recorded:

“As soon as the men had completed their own quarters, a brigade chapel was erected, and religious services were regularly held.”

Even during active campaigning, spiritual life continued:

“Religious service was kept up during the entire summer campaign… Several had professed conversion, and others were deeply impressed.”

These passages remind us that Civil War camps were places not only of drill and discipline, but of introspection and moral reckoning.

Endurance Without Complaint: The Veteran Tone

One striking feature of the Concise History is its restraint. The authors rarely boast, rarely dramatize, and almost never complain. Hardships are stated plainly, as facts endured rather than grievances aired. This tone itself is a personal statement — a reflection of how the veterans wished their service to be remembered.

Near the end of the narrative, the author explains the purpose of the work:

“This brief history is written as a souvenir to the relatives and friends of the brave fallen members of the regiment, and to preserve in lasting form the record of its service.”

It is not glory they seek, but remembrance.

Company Voices from the 126th Ohio Infantry

While the Concise History of the 126th Ohio Infantry is primarily a regimental narrative, careful reading reveals moments where individual companies step briefly into view. These glimpses — often understated — offer valuable insight into how the war was experienced at the company level.

Company D: Remembered Through Its Chronicler

Company D holds a unique place in the regimental history because J. H. Gilson, the compiler of the volume, was himself a member of that company. While he rarely foregrounds his own service, the care and detail with which certain episodes are preserved suggests a Company D vantage point.

During the regiment’s early winter along the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, Company D suffered heavily from disease. Gilson notes that illness did not discriminate by rank or experience:

“Typhoid fever and small-pox broke out in the regiment… six men in each company died.”

For Company D, this period marked their first real loss — not from battle, but from conditions beyond their control. The deaths forged a shared sense of endurance that would define the company for the remainder of the war.

Company F: Letters from the Ranks

Although the Concise History does not reproduce full letters, it references correspondence and service details that align closely with Company F soldiers such as Joseph Foreman, whose wartime letters survive independently.

Company F’s experience reflects the long, grinding nature of service in the Army of the Potomac. Men of the company endured repeated marches, extended picket duty, and attrition through sickness and wounds. Foreman’s eventual discharge due to wounds in 1865 mirrors the experience of many in the company — veterans worn down rather than dramatically felled.

This kind of service, while less dramatic than battlefield heroics, represents the true cost of sustained campaigning.

Company E: Courage at Petersburg

Company E is most famously associated with Corporal Milton Blickensderfer, whose actions during the Petersburg Campaign brought national recognition.

Though the Concise History treats the incident modestly, the achievement stands out: during an engagement at Petersburg, Blickensderfer captured a Confederate battle flag — an act of extraordinary personal risk.

Within Company E, this moment symbolized the culmination of years of discipline and exposure to combat. The capture of a flag was no abstract honor; it required advancing directly into enemy fire and emerging alive.

Company B and the Retreat at Martinsburg

William Wirt Groves (1843-1941) of Belmont county, Ohio, who served in Co. B, 126th Ohio Infantry.(sparedandshared23.com)
William Wirt Groves (1843-1941) of Belmont county, Ohio, who served in Co. B, 126th Ohio Infantry.
(sparedandshared23.com)

At the Battle of Martinsburg in June 1863, the regiment fought under intense pressure. Several companies, including Company B, were engaged while covering the retreat.

The history records the moment without embellishment:

“After stubborn resistance, we were compelled to fall back.”

For Company B, this meant holding position long enough to allow other units to withdraw — a task often assigned to steady, reliable companies. The subsequent retreat to the Potomac tested discipline as much as courage, as men crossed the river utterly exhausted but still under threat.

Company H: Camp Religion and Morale

Company H appears most clearly in passages related to camp life and religious observance, particularly during winter quarters near Brandy Station.

Chaplain J. K. Andrews noted that religious interest varied by company, with some responding more deeply than others:

“Several had professed conversion, and others were deeply impressed.”

Company H was among those where attendance and participation remained strong even during active campaigning. For many men, shared worship became a stabilizing force amid constant movement and uncertainty.

Why These Voices Matter

Through these quotations and personal passages, the 126th Ohio Infantry emerges not as an abstract unit, but as a community of individuals — men who marched, suffered illness, crossed rivers under fire, prayed together, and endured until the war’s end.

Their words, preserved in this modest regimental volume, allow us to hear the Civil War as they lived it: plainly, honestly, and with quiet resolve.

Sources

Primary Source

Supplementary / Contextual

  • National Park Service & regimental summaries (for campaign context)
  • Ohio in the Civil War regimental records

Additional Reading and Research

These are the current documents from the National Archives' Records Group 94 relating the 126th Ohio Infantry available on the Research Arsenal.
These are the current documents from the National Archives’ Records Group 94 relating the 126th Ohio Infantry available on the Research Arsenal.

Visit the Research Arsenal database for online access to the 126th Ohio Infantry’s National Archives RG94 records

1863 Diary of David Alexander Chandler, 126th Ohio Volunteer Infantry: https://sparedshared23.com/2023/05/27/1863-diary-of-david-alexander-chandler-126th-ohio-volunteer-infantry/

The Importance of a Well-Documented Private Collection: Part 3, Software

The Importance of a Well-Documented Private Collection: Part 3

The last two weeks we’ve discussed the importance of a well-documented private collection, and this week we’re going to dive into some ways to keep all of that information with your items. Although this “can” be done with paper, pencil and a filing cabinet, I strongly recommend you go the digital route. I know we all love our historic things, but record-keeping should definitely be in a 21st century style.

Excel (or Google Sheets)

This is probably the simplest way to do this. Create an Excel sheet with fields for the item, purchase date, cost, and purchase information. I would also recommend including where you are keeping the item if possible, so that it is easy to locate if you have a large number of items. Here is an example of what that might look like:

Here is a very simplistic catalog record using Excel. While it does track some information, as you can see, it is very limited.
Here is a very simplistic catalog record using Excel. While it does track some information, as you can see, it is very limited.

While this technically works on a basic level, do you notice any issues with it? For example, how descriptive can I be about the item in that short Excel line? Would it be easier to have a photograph of the item tied in with this information? Especially when you have several tintypes of Union cavalry soldiers with carbines? This brings me to my second option.

 

Use a Program like CatalogIt or ReCollector

There are programs designed for this sort of thing, and I have featured them both in the past. Both CatalogIt and ReCollector allow you the space to input all of the information above, and then some. Here is an example of a catalog record using the CatalogIt software. Notice all of the information that this software tracks for each item.

Here is a screenshot of a catalog record using CatalogIt software. Can you see the vast difference between this and Excel? Which one is better suited for supporting a well-documented private collection?
Here is a screenshot of a catalog record using CatalogIt software. Can you see the vast difference between this and Excel? Which one is better suited for supporting a well-documented private collection?

This photo shows you what it looks like on the backend for inputting information and what sorts of fields of information it tracks.

This is a screenshot showing just some of the categories available to input data for collection items using CatalogIt. Each of these expands with multiple fields of information available. They do not have to be filled out, but the more information the better.
This is a screenshot showing just some of the categories available to input data for collection items using CatalogIt. Each of these expands with multiple fields of information available. They do not have to be filled out, but the more information the better.

This may look like a lot or seem intimidating, but it really isn’t tough at all. Once you create your first catalog record, it starts to move very quickly. Plus, you can always go back and add more information.

Pros and Cons

Obviously, going the Excel route is simple and something that most folks are already familiar with. However, it is extremely limited and would be cumbersome to use to add a large amount of information to. Whereas CatalogIt is new software so it does have a learning curve, but the value in the type of information it can track far outweighs that learning curve. And if the amount of options for information to be added on CatalogIt seems overwhelming, you do not have to fill in each available box, but the space is there for you to if you want to. Both give you search functionality which far outweighs the “historic” paper and filing cabinet method.

As we discussed in the beginning, the point of this is to keep track of all of your collection information. It’s far too much information to just be rattling around in your head. It needs to be written down, and it should be done in a way that you can actually put everything down that you need to. On top of that, it should be done in a format that the information can easily be passed on to others or accessed by others in the event that your family or loved ones are trying to figure out your collection for resale purposes. In addition, should you decide to donate your collection, this will offer the museum a whole wealth of information on your collection so that they are not starting from scratch. Having worked in museums for nearly two decades, you would be surprised at the amount of information that can be lost when an item is donated by someone who doesn’t really know what it was. This kind of information is absolutely crucial. Remember, context is everything and this is how we keep the context with our collection.

Now that we’ve reached the end of this series, what will you do? Do you already have a system in place that tracks all of this information? Will you start one?

The Importance of a Well-Documented Collection: Part 2, Purchased Items

The Importance of a Well-Documented Collection: Part 2, Purchased Items

This 1808 illustration of Christie's auction rooms makes you wonder what sort of documentation they provided with their purchased items. Buying items at auction has been going on for a very long time, and this picture from over 200 years ago really reinforces how we are just one small part of an object's total history. Image Credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
This 1808 illustration of Christie’s auction rooms makes you wonder what sort of documentation they provided with their sales. Buying items at auction has been going on for a very long time, and this picture from over 200 years ago really reinforces how we are just one small part of an object’s total history. Image Credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Last week’s post left you with some instructions to take a cursory look at your collection. Where and who did you get your items from? What did you spend? What research have you done on your collection? Do you know where all of it is? Etc. If this was a bit of a challenge, that’s okay. Now that you know where you stand with this information, you can start to organize it. As I mentioned last week, this will be very helpful for you, but also for your loved ones should anything ever happen to you. It’s not a pleasant thing to think about, but it is a sad reality that will eventually happen. Our collections always outlive us, just as they have the original owners.

Sales Information with Purchased Items

This week, I want to focus on the information that comes with purchased items, what to keep, and why that can be helpful.

Previous Owner

When you purchase something and it has information on who owned it, keep that info with the object. Even if you don’t think it’s relevant, keep the information. Let’s say you bought a Civil war sword from Joe Smith’s heirs. You didn’t know Joe and the fact that Joe had it doesn’t mean anything to you. Later, you decide to sell it as a simple sword because you don’t have any identification with it. You can sell it as-is with zero information, or you can include whether you obtained it from the Joe Smith collection. As it turns out, Smith was a heavy collector of all things 11th Ohio Volunteer Cavalry—now you have a clue as to where this sword may have come from. It’s not definite, but it’s a crumb of context.

Sometimes crumbs of context are all we have to go on, and often times they remain crumbs, but there are also times where that simple crumb can allow us to fully identify a photograph or object. Collectors are often connected with specific areas that they collect, so keeping this information with the object can be helpful in identification and also in provenance.

Purchase Price

This one may seem obvious, or it may not, depending on if you are insuring your collection. I will add, if you have a large collection of Civil War photographs, documents, artifacts, etc., I recommend insuring it. However, even if you are not currently insuring your collection (you should) the purchase price information may come in handy.

If you do decide to insure it, that will help determine the value, along with an appraisal. And having that information will help you (and especially loved ones) should the time come that that particular item needs to be resold. You will know what you have invested in it, and what you may be able to get for it. This can also help assess value when you may be doing a trade with another collector.

Your purchase prices can also come in handy should you ever decide to donate your collection or an item from your collection to a museum or other non-profit organization. The current value of the item can be used as a tax write-off.

Listing Information

This one is important if the listing has some good information in it. We’ve all seen listings that basically just say, “Old tintype. Unknown person. Military.” And that’s about it. Those types of listings are not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about the ones that have some meat in them that may add to a story further down the road or may help you with additional research.

For example, I recently purchased an 1870s dance card for a dance that was held in a building owned by someone I have heavily researched. On the surface, the dance card speaks for itself. But what was interesting was that the seller had it listed under the wrong state. She found the dance card inside a wall of a home she was remodeling and assumed it must have come from nearby, so she listed it as such. What I am still wondering is how in the world this dance card ended up inside a wall in a neighboring state. But since I have that information, I know which town that dance card ended up in and I could try to match up that info to see if there are residents who lived in the town where the dance was held and moved to that neighboring state. It’s certainly a research project, but it might allow me to identify who actually owned the card. If I had not kept any of that information, I would have lost that part of the object’s history and story. And as I mentioned last week, an object’s story is what gives it its context.

Another example is that I have many signed copies of a single book, but some of them were owned by historical figures. Since the signatures are simply the author’s name, if I lost the listing information, I would not know that that particular copy was owned by a U.S. Senator or other figure. That information can also play into the value, so it’s extremely important to keep it with the item.

What Information Have You Kept?

These are just some examples of what to keep and why when purchasing items for your collection. Have you kept any of this information? Next week we’ll dive into how to keep your information so that this does not create something tedious to navigate or difficult to keep up with.

 

The Importance of a Well-Documented Private Collection: Part 1

The Importance of a Well-Documented Private Collection: Part 1

The bundle of old photos is a great example of a pile of history that has lost its context. Without the information of who these people were, this stack of at one time significant memories, becomes nearly worthless as it is reduced to just photographs. A well-documented collection can help prevent that.
The bundle of old photos is a great example of a pile of history that has lost its context. Without the information of who these people were, this stack of at one time significant memories, becomes nearly worthless as it is reduced to just photographs. A well-documented collection can help prevent that.

I have discussed the importance of cataloging your collection over the course of a few blog posts in the past, and today I want to highlight the importance of having a well-documented private collection.

As collectors, we often know our collections inside and out—where and when we got something, who we got it from, what we paid for it, the significance of it, why we got it, etc. But what we often don’t take into account, is that there may come a day when we can’t remember that information. And there also will come a day when we’re gone from this earth, and unless we’ve written that information down somewhere, it dies with us.

How many of you have come across an old CDV and written on the back is “mother”? Who’s mother? What was her name? That information is just plain gone. Sift through the box of vintage photos at your local antique store and you’ll find pictures like that in droves, or the ones that are just blank on the back. They often sell for only a few dollars each because the context of who these people were is totally gone. That context gave them their value. Without it, they just become random old photographs. Just for fun, I went to eBay and entered the search term “unidentified photo” and got 220,000+ results. I then input “identified photo” and got only 6,100+. Clearly, there is a problem with people losing the identifying information over time.

The same is true with objects. How often do you see the words “ID’d” or “named collection” with items in an auction listing? That always drives up the price, doesn’t it? It does, because the names add value. Now you know who this belonged to and the items take on additional meanings. Without it, they are reduced to nothing more than the physical object itself—a Model 1850 foot officer’s sword, haversack, etc.

At one time for all of these objects, they had identities. There was someone alive who knew all those people in those unlabeled photographs, and someone who knew who owned that sword and that haversack. Unfortunately, that information did not travel with the object that outlived them. This is where we as collectors need to keep information whenever it is available.

Since this is the start of a new year, it’s a good time to start keeping track of your collection information if you are not already. This month, I’ll be writing blog posts on what to keep and why, as well as the best ways to keep it.

Step 1: Collection Assessment Project

Take a look at your private collection and just broadly assess if you’ve kept any of the following: purchase info (date of purchase, from whom, for how much, etc.), any research documentation (did you look things up on your phone without saving links or copying information down anywhere?), storage location (do you know where all your items are and how they are stored?), and lastly, condition (do you know the condition of your collection items and which ones are damaged and needing conservation, or better storage?).

And one last thing, how easily were you able to find this information? Was it at your fingertips with a few keystrokes on the computer, or did you have to go digging through boxes or files? And how easily would your partner or loved ones be able to find all of this information if you weren’t there?

This is all just some food for thought as you go through and assess your private collection. But we’ll use this information as we discuss ways to begin to keep track of it all and organize it. Check back next week for the next blog (step) in this series.

New Year’s During the Civil War

“Another Year in the War”: New Year’s During the Civil War

Illustration of New Year's Day by Thomas Nast for the January 1864 Harper's Weekly issue.
Illustration of New Year’s Day by Thomas Nast for the January 1864 Harper’s Weekly issue. The illustration is comparing and contrasting conditions in the north and south during the Civil War.

As the calendar turned during the Civil War, Americans greeted the New Year not with champagne and fireworks, but with musket fire, prayer, hunger, and reflection. For soldiers in the field, enslaved people awaiting freedom, and civilians struggling on the home front, January 1st was often less a celebration than a reckoning — a moment to take stock of survival and hope in the midst of national catastrophe.

New Year’s on the Battlefield: Cold, Music, and Combat

Illustration of the Battle of Stones River. The Battle of Stones River, also known as the Second Battle of Murfreesboro, was fought from December 31, 1862, to January 2, 1863, in Middle Tennessee, as the culmination of the Stones River Campaign in the Western Theater of the American Civil War.
Illustration of the Battle of Stones River. The Battle of Stones River, also known as the Second Battle of Murfreesboro, was fought from December 31, 1862, to January 2, 1863, in Middle Tennessee, as the culmination of the Stones River Campaign in the Western Theater of the American Civil War. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_battle_of_Stone_River_or_Murfreesboro%27_LCCN2003664895.tif?page=1

For many soldiers, the New Year arrived with little ceremony. Winter camps were cold, damp, and uncomfortable, and in some cases the holiday coincided with brutal fighting.
One of the starkest examples occurred at the Battle of Stones River near Murfreesboro, Tennessee, which raged from December 31, 1862, into January 2, 1863. The New Year opened not with resolutions, but with artillery fire and staggering casualties. One Union officer grimly observed that the year had begun “under fire,” a sentiment shared by thousands of men who found themselves fighting as the calendar turned.

Yet even amid hostility, moments of humanity occasionally surfaced. On New Year’s Eve, soldiers recalled a rare pause in the fighting as regimental bands from both sides took turns playing familiar tunes across the lines. A Tennessee soldier remembered how the music floated through the darkness until the night ended with Home, Sweet Home, a melody that stirred homesickness on both sides of the battlefield.

“Everyone Intended to Have a Happy New Year”: Life in Camp

Away from active combat, New Year’s could bring small, improvised observances — reminders of civilian life left behind.
Seventeen-year-old Charley Howe of the 36th Massachusetts Infantry wrote home from camp near Fredericksburg on January 1, 1863, offering his parents a vivid glimpse of camp life at the turn of the year. He began with a familiar greeting:

“I wish you a ‘very happy New Year.’ Last night was the coldest night we have seen since we left Old Massachusetts and we had to keep fires all night long in our fireplaces in order to keep warm.”
Despite the bitter cold, the day itself brought a small novelty:

“It being New Year’s Day, we had whiskey rations given us — a thing which has not happened before since leaving home.”
Howe noted that even this modest indulgence carried moral weight among the men:

“Everyone intended to have a happy New Year as Sons of Temperance and all drank their little gill.”

His letter captures the quiet resilience of soldiers who seized fleeting comforts while maintaining a sense of discipline and identity.
Two years later, Nelson Statler of the 211th Pennsylvania Infantry marked New Year’s Day 1865 in a very different way. Writing home from winter quarters, Statler framed the date with careful precision rather than festivity:

“This is the first day of week, first day of the month, first day of the year, and the first day for me on camp guard since I am in the service.”
His attention quickly turned to the weather and his duties:

“It is very cold today. There is a little skift of snow on the ground — the first I have seen since last winter.”
Statler’s words underscore how, for many soldiers, New Year’s passed as simply another day of responsibility, marked more by cold and routine than celebration.

Watch Night and “Freedom’s Eve”

Waiting for the HourCarte-de-visite of an emancipation watch night meeting 1863 Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture
Waiting for the Hour
Carte-de-visite of an emancipation watch night meeting 1863
Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture

While soldiers marked the New Year in camps and on picket lines, African Americans experienced January 1, 1863, as a moment of profound transformation.
On the night of December 31, 1862, enslaved and free Black communities gathered in churches and private homes for Watch Night, waiting through prayer and song for the Emancipation Proclamation to take effect at midnight. These gatherings were deeply spiritual, blending religious tradition with political hope.

Frederick Douglass captured the emotional weight of the moment, recalling the atmosphere as midnight approached:

“It was a moment of solemn waiting… we were waiting for the word of deliverance.”

When January 1 dawned, Douglass described the day in luminous terms:

“This is a day for poetry and song… a new song… the day of jubilee.”

For those who had lived under bondage, the New Year in 1863 represented not merely another turn of the calendar, but the promise of freedom — fragile, incomplete, and contested, yet momentous.

Promises Unfulfilled: New Year’s on the Confederate Home Front

In the war-weary Confederate capital of Richmond, New Year’s celebrations could be painfully hollow. In January 1865, citizens organized what was intended to be a generous New Year’s feast for soldiers defending the city. Food was collected amid great fanfare, but when the meal was finally distributed, it amounted to almost nothing.

One soldier recorded his bitterness in a diary entry:

“Not a mouth full apiece… where has it all gone to… The commissary or quarter masters no doubt got it. May the Lord have mercy on the poor soldiers.”
A contemporary newspaper lamented that the promised dinner had “gone without coming,” a grim metaphor for a Confederacy nearing collapse.

A New Year Without Illusions

Across the divided nation, New Year’s during the Civil War was rarely joyful. Instead, it became a moment for reflection — on hardship endured, on freedom hoped for, and on an uncertain future.
For soldiers like Charley Howe and Nelson Statler, January 1st meant cold nights, guard duty, and letters home. For African Americans, it could mean the long-awaited dawn of emancipation. And for civilians, it often marked another year of sacrifice with no clear end in sight.
In the Civil War, the New Year did not promise easy beginnings. But in camps, churches, and homes, Americans continued to mark its arrival — clinging to hope that someday, the war itself would finally end.

Bibliography

American Battlefield Trust. “New Year’s Hell.”
National Museum of African American History and Culture. “The Historical Legacy of Watch Night.”
Emery, Tom. “New Year’s in Civil War, other conflicts brought little celebration.” Staunton Star-Times.
RVA News. “Civil War: A New Year’s Day ‘feast’.”
The Research Arsenal. Charley Howe letter:
https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/13158
Nelson Statler letter: https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/56471

Christmas During the Civil War: Voices from the Front and Home

Christmas During the Civil War: Voices from the Front and Home

Christmas during the Civil War was a difficult time for both soldiers and civilians as they were often separated from their loved ones during the time of year that is often represented by families spending time together. The one thing that the vast majority of them could not do during the war. "Christmas Eve," Harper's Weekly, January 3, 1863.
Christmas during the Civil War was a difficult time for both soldiers and civilians as they were often separated from their loved ones during the time of year that is often represented by families spending time together. The one thing that the vast majority of them could not do during the war. “Christmas Eve,” Harper’s Weekly, January 3, 1863.

The Civil War did not pause for the holidays, yet Christmas still came. For soldiers and families separated by hundreds of miles, the season carried deep emotional weight. Christmas became a moment to remember home, to write letters, to pause — however briefly — and to imagine a future beyond war. Through letters, diaries, and firsthand recollections, the voices of the Civil War era reveal how Americans experienced Christmas amid hardship, hope, and uncertainty.

A Christmas Truce on the Rappahannock

By the winter of 1862, the war had already exacted a terrible toll. Only weeks after the bloody Battle of Fredericksburg, Union and Confederate armies faced one another across the frozen Rappahannock River in Virginia. Entrenched on opposite banks, the soldiers were locked in a tense stalemate — close enough to see one another clearly, yet divided by violence and loss.

Among the Union pickets that Christmas morning was John R. Paxton, an eighteen-year-old private. Years later, Paxton reflected on how the familiar pull of Christmas softened even the hardest edges of war:

 “It was Christmas morning. The ground was covered with snow, and the river was full of floating ice. We were on picket duty along the river bank, cold and hungry, thinking of home and friends far away. About mid-morning a Confederate called out, ‘Good morning.’ We answered, and then came the greeting, ‘Merry Christmas.’ Soon laughing and talking was going on all along the line.”

What began as simple conversation soon became something extraordinary. Paxton remembered how the spirit of the day overcame suspicion and fear:

 “Before long some of our boys launched a little boat and sent it across the river loaded with coffee and sugar. It came back with tobacco and pork. The trading went on for several hours. We exchanged newspapers, jokes, and compliments, and wondered how it was possible that we could be shooting at one another one day and swapping Christmas greetings the next.”

This brief, unofficial truce was never sanctioned by officers, nor did it last. Yet it lingered in memory — a reminder that even amid brutal conflict, soldiers could still recognize one another as fellow human beings on Christmas Day.

A Father’s Christmas Letter from Camp

While some soldiers experienced moments of shared peace, most spent Christmas far from home, marking the day quietly through letters. Writing home became a crucial emotional ritual — a way to maintain family bonds despite distance and danger.

On December 25, 1861, Lieutenant Andrew F. Davis wrote from Camp Wycliff, Kentucky, to his young daughters, Orrilla and Nan. Like many fathers in uniform, Davis carefully shaped his words to comfort his children while keeping the harsher realities of war at bay:

“Merry Christmas, my dear children. I hope you are having a happy day and that Santa Claus has been good to you. Although I am far away from you, I think of you very often and wish I could be at home to see you enjoy yourselves.”

Davis understood the power of familiar imagery. He described camp life in gentle terms, choosing scenes that echoed the warmth of home:

“Our tents look very pretty at night, lighted up as they are, and remind me of home. We do not have many of the comforts you have, but we make ourselves as comfortable as we can and try to keep cheerful.”

Still, the separation weighed heavily on him. Beneath the festive language was a longing shared by thousands of soldiers:

“It is hard to be away from home on Christmas Day, but I hope the time is not far distant when we shall all be together again.”

Letters like Davis’s carried the emotional burden of war, sustaining families on both ends of the page.

Four Christmases Through a Soldier’s Eyes

As the war dragged on, Christmas changed — and few sources capture that evolution more clearly than the diary of Union Corporal Henry Keiser. Serving year after year, Keiser recorded four consecutive Christmases, offering a rare longitudinal glimpse into how hope slowly gave way to fatigue.

In 1861, the war was still new, and Christmas retained much of its familiar warmth. Stationed near Alexandria, Virginia, Keiser wrote:

“Christmas Day. We rested today and had a very pleasant time. Received letters from home which made me feel much better. Took dinner with a friend and enjoyed myself very well.”

By the following year, experience had hardened expectations. On Christmas Day, 1862, his tone was starkly different:

“Christmas Day. This has been a poor Christmas. Cold weather and hard times. Received no letters today. The boys had some whiskey, but it did not make it much of a Christmas.”

In 1863, duty eclipsed celebration altogether. Keiser recorded the day with resignation rather than complaint:

“Christmas Day. On guard today. Very cold. Received a box from home with some things in it which I was glad to get. It is hard to stand guard on Christmas, but such is a soldier’s life.”

By Christmas 1864, the war had become a way of life. Keiser’s entry was brief, weary, and telling:

“Christmas Day. Spent near Petersburg. Saw some relatives for a short time. Received a letter from my wife. This is the fourth Christmas I have spent in the army.”

Across four years, Christmas shifted from celebration to endurance — a marker of time passing rather than joy regained.

A Confederate Santa Writes Home

As the war entered its final winter, hardship weighed heavily on the Confederate home front. Shortages, separation, and uncertainty shaped even the most cherished traditions. Yet parents still tried to shield their children from despair.

On December 25, 1864, Confederate Captain Benjamin Wesley Justice wrote a Christmas letter to his children while serving as a commissary officer. Writing in the voice of Santa Claus, he blended affection with honesty:

“Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to my dear children. I would be glad to bring you many presents, but Santa Claus is very poor this year. Still, I hope you will be happy and remember that you are dearly loved.”

Justice could not avoid acknowledging the true wish behind the holiday:

“Oh, how much merrier and happier it might be to us all if this cruel war was over and we could all be together again at home.”

His letter echoed a sentiment shared across the divided nation — that peace, not presents, was the greatest Christmas gift of all.

Christmas in a Nation at War

This Thomas Nast illustration published in the December 26, 1863 Harper's Weekly issue reflects the the Christmas holiday that many families longed for--a furlough to bring their loved ones home.
This Thomas Nast illustration published in the December 26, 1863 Harper’s Weekly issue reflects the the Christmas holiday that many families longed for–a furlough to bring their loved ones home.

Christmas during the Civil War was never uniform. Some soldiers experienced brief moments of peace, others stood lonely guard in bitter cold, and many marked the day only by writing home. Yet across camps, battlefields, and hearths, Christmas remained a powerful emotional anchor.

Through their own words, soldiers and families revealed what the holiday meant in wartime: remembrance of home, affirmation of love, and hope for reunion. Even amid violence and division, the spirit of Christmas endured — preserved in letters, diaries, and memories that continue to speak across generations.

For more first-hand accounts of Christmas during the Civil War, the Research Arsenal database currently has over 500 search results in the Letters Library transcriptions for the term “Christmas.”

Bibliography

American Battlefield Trust. “Christmas on the Rappahannock.”
[https://www.battlefields.org/learn/primary-sources/christmas-rappahannock]

American Battlefield Trust. “Christmas During the Civil War.”
[https://www.battlefields.org/learn/articles/christmas-during-civil-war]

University of Iowa Libraries. “A Civil War Christmas Letter.”
[https://blog.lib.uiowa.edu/studio/2011/12/22/a-civil-war-christmas-letter]

Wynning History. “Four Christmases of the Civil War”
[https://wynninghistory.com/2020/12/25/four-christmases-civil-war]

Emerging Civil War. “Coal from Confederate Santa: Christmas 1864”
[https://emergingcivilwar.com/2015/12/22/coal-from-confederate-santa-christmas-1864]

The Great West Point Eggnog Riot of 1826

The Great West Point Eggnog Riot of 1826

This painting depicts a rather subdued version of events of the West Point Eggnog Riot.
This painting depicts a rather subdued version of events of the West Point Eggnog Riot.

The night of December 24–25, 1826, at the United States Military Academy in West Point, New York, was anything but silent. What began as a secret Christmas Eve party fueled by smuggled whiskey and eggnog turned into an all-night brawl — a riot that involved firearms, swords, smashed furniture, and near-violence against officers. Today it’s remembered as the Eggnog Riot, one of the most bizarre episodes in early American military history.

A Tradition Meets a Ban

Painting of U.S. Military Academy superintendent Sylvanus Thayer by Robert Walter Weir
Painting of U.S. Military Academy superintendent Sylvanus Thayer by Robert Walter Weir

By the mid-1820s, West Point had grown from a rough training post into a structured military academy under Superintendent Colonel Sylvanus Thayer. Thayer, determined to instill discipline and professionalism, imposed strict rules on cadets — including a ban on alcohol. Even traditional celebrations like Christmas, where eggnog had long been a holiday staple, were expected to be alcohol-free.

The cadets weren’t having it. Eggnog was synonymous with celebration and spirits (literally), and they were determined to make their own. In the early 19th century, eggnog often contained rum, whiskey, or brandy — a tradition dating back to colonial times and enjoyed by figures like George Washington. The thought of a dry holiday drink was unacceptable to many cadets.

 Smuggling the Spirits

On December 22, cadets hatched a plan to bring liquor into the academy. A group crossed the Hudson River under cover of night to purchase whiskey at nearby taverns, bribing a guard with 35 cents to look the other way. They returned with several gallons of spirits, hidden away in the North Barracks, ready to be mixed into eggnog for a Christmas Eve celebration.

Other cadets added more rum from taverns, making sure there was plenty of alcohol to go around. What began as a covert party was quietly taking shape — but it would soon explode far beyond anyone’s expectations.

Christmas Eve Explodes into Chaos

Portrait of Brigadier General Ethan Allen Hitchcock. He served as a faculty member at West Point at the time of the Eggnog Riot in 1826. https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/1657
Portrait of Brigadier General Ethan Allen Hitchcock. He served as a faculty member at West Point at the time of the Eggnog Riot in 1826. https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/1657

By late evening on December 24, several groups of cadets were gathered in the North Barracks, openly drinking spiked eggnog. As midnight passed and the revelry continued, the noise level grew louder and more raucous. By about 4:00 a.m., the disturbance caught the attention of Captain Ethan Allen Hitchcock, the officer on duty.

Hitchcock climbed the stairs toward the source of the noise, only to be met with a chaotic scene. Some cadets tried to hide under blankets; others taunted him. One cadet even shouted to the crowd:

“Get your dirks and bayonets… and pistols if you have them.”

In the confusion, a pistol was fired at Hitchcock as he forced his way through a barricaded door. Fortunately, the shot struck the door frame rather than a person. Elsewhere in the barracks, Lieutenant William Thorton faced down defiant cadets, one of whom brandished a sword and another who struck him with a chunk of wood. Officers were outnumbered and outmatched as drunken cadets pushed back.

Groups of cadets began breaking windows, ripping banisters from staircases, smashing plates and cups, and essentially turning the barracks into a battlefield. Swords, muskets, and bayonets — instruments of military discipline — were now wielded in drunken chaos. What had started as a holiday party had become a full-blown riot that would only end with the sober light of dawn.

Dawn and Aftermath

When reveille sounded around 6:05 a.m. on Christmas morning, those cadets fortunate enough to be in the adjacent South Barracks awoke to contrast: one side of the campus was orderly and disciplined while the North Barracks looked like the aftermath of a skirmish zone. Broken windows, shattered furniture, and debris littered the hallways.

Officials estimated that up to 90 cadets — more than one-third of the Corps — had participated in the riot. West Point administrators faced a dilemma: punishing every participant would cripple the academy, then still in its developmental years.

In the days that followed, 22 cadets most deeply involved were placed under house arrest, and a major investigation ensued. Court-martial proceedings began in late January 1827, with 19 cadets and one enlisted soldier facing charges. In testimony that stretched for weeks, 167 witnesses were heard. Among them was future Civil War figure Robert E. Lee, who did not take part but testified on behalf of classmates.

Of those tried, all were found guilty and sentenced to dismissal, though several were spared through clemency and later graduated. Some received lesser punishments. Notably, Jefferson Davis, who had been present and intoxicated during the events, avoided trial and was released from house arrest after several weeks — possibly because he complied with orders when officers confronted him.

What It Tells Us

The Eggnog Riot is more than a humorous holiday anecdote. It reveals how youthful traditions and resistance to authority can clash spectacularly with institutional discipline. In one night, cadets turned their own barracks into a scene of destruction, tested the resolve of their superiors, and left a memorable mark on West Point’s history.

The riot also had practical implications. In rebuilding and restructuring barracks later, academy designers even incorporated changes to reduce the likelihood of large groups assembling spontaneously — an architectural consequence of that chaotic Christmas Eve.

Whether seen as cautionary or comical, the story of the Eggnog Riot underscores a timeless truth: even within strict institutions, human impulses and traditions find a way to make themselves felt — sometimes with explosive results.

For More Reading:

The First Ship Sunk by a Naval Mine: The USS Cairo

The First Ship Sunk by a Naval Mine: The USS Cairo

Photograph of the USS Cairo and crew taken sometime during 1862. https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/68594
Photograph of the USS Cairo and crew taken sometime during 1862. https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/68594

This week marks the 163rd anniversary of the sinking of the gunboat USS Cairo. Remarkably, a sinking with no loss of life. The Cairo also holds the distinction of being the first ship sunk by a naval mine (torpedo was the term used at the time).

The Birth of an Ironclad — USS Cairo

In 1861, as the Civil War erupted, the Union moved to exploit its control of the Mississippi River and its tributaries. Built by James Eads and Company in Mound City, Illinois, the Cairo was the lead ship of the seven-vessel “City-class” of casemate ironclads commissioned for riverine warfare. She measured 175 feet in length, drew only 6 feet of water (making her ideal for shallow rivers), and under her steam-engine and paddlewheel propulsion could manage a modest 4 knots. Manned by a crew of approximately 251 officers and enlisted men, the Cairo was designed to carry heavy armament behind thick iron armor and bring Union naval power inland.

Originally part of the Union Army’s Western Gunboat Flotilla, the Cairo was transferred to the U.S. Navy on October 1, 1862.

Wartime Service: From Forts to Rivers

Shortly after her commissioning, Cairo saw action alongside Union forces in several key operations. In February 1862, she helped occupy Clarksville and Nashville, Tennessee — crucial early moves in asserting Union control over the Tennessee River. In the spring she took part in the reduction of Fort Pillow, which fell to Union forces in early June. On June 6, 1862, Cairo joined a flotilla of Union warships in a naval battle off Memphis, Tennessee, defeating a similar Confederate flotilla and helping secure the city for the Union.

By late November 1862, the Cairo had shifted to operations along the Yazoo River as part of the Yazoo Pass Expedition — a campaign aimed at clearing the river of Confederate defenses to prepare for an attack on Haines Bluff, north of Vicksburg, Mississippi.

A Sudden End — First Ship Lost to a Naval Mine

Sketch of the ship's wreck, entitled Cairo Submerged, probably depicting the scene immediately after she was sunk by a Confederate mine in the Yazoo River, Mississippi, on 12 December 1862. Note men sitting on projecting timbers and swimming in the water nearby. Courtesy of Mrs. A. Hopkins, 1927. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph.
Sketch of the ship’s wreck, entitled “Cairo Submerged,” probably depicting the scene immediately after she was sunk by a Confederate mine in the Yazoo River, Mississippi, on December 12, 1862. Note men sitting on projecting timbers and swimming in the water nearby. Courtesy of Mrs. A. Hopkins, 1927. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph.

On December 12, 1862, under the command of Thomas O. Selfridge, Jr., Cairo was helping to sweep the Yazoo for underwater “torpedoes” — the term then used for what we now call naval mines. Selfridge saw another gunboat, the Marmora firing and assumed that it was under attack by Confederate sharpshooters. Selfridge ordered the Cairo forward and deployed small boats to assist the Marmora. However, the Marmora was not under attack and was firing its guns to detonate a mine it had discovered. Shortly after this maneuver an explosion rocked the Cairo. According to Ensign Walter Fentress of the Marmora, he “saw her anchor thrown up several feet into the air.”

Unfortunately, the Cairo struck an electrically detonated mine placed by Confederate forces who were hidden along the riverbank. Two explosions ripped into her hull, creating gaping breaches.

In just twelve minutes, Cairo sank into approximately 36 feet of water. Miraculously, there was no loss of life. This tragic event marked a grim milestone: the Cairo became the first armored warship in history to be sunk by a remotely detonated mine.

Lost and Forgotten — Then Rediscovered

For over a century, the Cairo lay buried beneath silt and mud at the bottom of the Yazoo River — effectively preserved by the oxygen-poor sediment.

In 1956, historian Edwin C. Bearss (alongside local historians Don Jacks and Warren Grabau) used civil-war–era maps, a magnetic compass, and crude iron probes to locate the wreck. Their efforts paid off — by 1959 divers retrieved an armored port cover that confirmed the identity of the ironclad.

Salvage operations began in earnest in 1960. Over the next several years, many artifacts were recovered: cannons, personal items, naval equipment — all preserved by the river mud. By 1964 the hull was raised (cut into three sections to prevent further disintegration) and placed on barges; eventually, the components and artifacts were transported to a shipyard in Pascagoula, Mississippi for conservation.

Resurrection as a Museum — Legacy and Public History

Photograph of the salvaged Cairo now at the USS Cairo Museum in Vicksburg, MS.
Photograph of the salvaged Cairo now at the USS Cairo Museum in Vicksburg, MS.

In 1972, Congress authorized the National Park Service (NPS) to accept ownership of the Cairo, paving the way for her restoration and display. By 1977 the restored ironclad was reassembled on a concrete foundation near the Vicksburg National Cemetery and opened to the public at Vicksburg National Military Park in Mississippi.

Visitors to the park can walk aboard the Cairo and peer into her history: inside the adjacent museum are hundreds of artifacts recovered from the wreck — personal effects of sailors, tools, weapons, even meal utensils — offering a rare, intimate window into life aboard a Civil War ironclad.

The Cairo is one of only three surviving Civil War-era gunboats, and she stands as a testament both to early industrial naval design and to the human stories of those who served in the “brown-water” navy that fought the war on America’s inland rivers.

Why USS Cairo Still Matters

The story of the USS Cairo resonates on multiple levels. As a technological artifact, she embodies a pivotal shift in naval warfare: the transition from wooden sailing ships to armored, steam-powered vessels adapted for river combat. As a casualty, she marks a grim innovation in warfare — the use of underwater mines to sink a warship. As a rediscovered relic, she provides historians and the public a tangible link to the lived reality of Civil War sailors. And as a museum, she educates and reminds us of the human cost and ingenuity of that conflict.

Standing on her deck today — surrounded by recovered artifacts and the Mississippi-river air — one can almost hear the creak of timbers, the hiss of steam, the shouted orders of anxious sailors. The Cairo remains more than a wreck: she is a bridge between past and present, a silent storyteller of courage, tragedy, and legacy.

Sources

“USS Cairo.” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Cairo.

“The USS Cairo Story.” Visit Vicksburg, https://www.visitvicksburg.com/blog/uss-cairo-story/.

“Thomas O. Selfridge, Jr. – The Life and Career of an Early American Naval Officer.” Naval Historical Foundation, https://navyhistory.org/2013/12/thomas-o-selfridge-jr.

“USS Cairo.” Naval History and Heritage Command, https://www.history.navy.mil/our-collections/photography/us-navy-ships/alphabetical-listing/c/uss-cairo0.html.

“U.S.S. Cairo Gunboat and Museum.” National Park Service, https://www.nps.gov/vick/u-s-s-cairo-gunboat.htm.

 

How to Store Historical Documents

How to Store Historical Documents

Notice how this soldier's letter has torn along the crease where it was originally folded over 150 years ago. Storing it flat and unfolded could have prevented the additional strain on the crease that caused that damage. Knowing the best way to store historical documents can make a tremendous difference in the life of a collection.
Notice how this soldier’s letter has torn along the crease where it was originally folded over 150 years ago. Storing it flat and unfolded could have prevented the additional strain on the crease that caused that damage. Knowing the best way to store historical documents can make a tremendous difference in the life of a collection.

This week while scanning some Civil War letters I ran across damage that I’ve seen all too often with old documents that have been folded. The original crease of the letter had become brittle and damaged over time to the point that it had torn nearly the entire length except for a short 2-inch section. This is something that tends to happen when documents are stored folded. It’s not necessarily from poor handling (although that certainly plays a role) it can happen just from being stored improperly. Here are a few tips on how to store historical documents that you can use in your archive to avoid similar damage.

Store Historical Documents Flat

This is a simple thing to do and it makes a huge difference in the care of documents. At first, it might seem strange to take a letter that has been folded in half for 160 years and store it unfolded. But the reason behind it is simple: the paper was produced in a flat sheet and that is position that puts the least amount of stress on it. Creases over time become tears because the crease is putting a large amount of stress on the paper fibers—eventually weakening them to the point of tearing. If you’ve ever wanted to tear a straight line on a sheet of paper, what’s the first thing you do to it? Make a crease where you want the tear to be. Doing that first weakens the paper so that when you apply stress to it, the tear will follow the crease. The same principle applies here even though you are not intentionally applying stress to the paper to tear it.

Store Historical Documents in Sleeves

This is something I’ve mentioned in previous archive posts, but I strongly recommend storing historical documents in protective sleeves. The sleeves themselves provide another layer of strength to the fragile period paper which helps prevent damage. In addition, storing a document flat in a sleeve allows both sides of the paper to be completely visible without folding/unfolding, and the sleeve protects the document from hand oils, dirt, dust, etc.

If sleeves are not viable for your collection, I would recommend using archival paper as interleaves between the historic documents. This will provide a buffer between one paper and the next, which offers some protection.

Store Historical Documents in Archival Boxes

Storing documents flat produces the least amount of stress on the papers themselves. Once the papers have been sleeved, you can place them in archival folders and those folders should fit neatly into the box. I understand that boxing everything may not be practicable for everyone, and the alternative would be to store them vertically in filing cabinets. This is something that is accepted and done by many major archives, and can be very efficient.

If you have oversized documents such as muster rolls, ledger books, newspapers, etc., I would strongly recommend storing those flat in appropriately sized boxes. If the oversized loose papers are pliable and strong enough to be rolled, they may be stored rolled using an archival tube and rolling the papers around the tube and storing them in a second tube or wrapped in archival tissue and then polyester film. This ensures that the document is not rolled too tightly causing damage.

Here you can see staff at the National Archives rolling a historic document around a tube which will then be wrapped in acetate to be protected.
Here you can see staff at the National Archives rolling a historic document around a tube which will then be wrapped in archival tissue and polyester film to be protected.

The National Archives has a great page dedicated to much of what I just discussed, including how to properly store oversized documents with tubes, here: https://www.archives.gov/preservation/family-archives/storing#page-header

No archive is perfect, and when you are working with old and fragile items, unfortunately, some deterioration is unavoidable as the very materials simply age. But, the more steps we can take to better care for our collections, the longer they will last. For other archival tips, check out previous blog posts here: https://researcharsenal.com/category/archival-and-preservation-tips/

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