The Battle of Island Mound (October 29, 1862)

Well before the 54^th Massachusetts stormed Fort Wagner and well before contrabands-turned-soldiers repulsed a Confederate assault at Milliken’s Bend, a regiment of black soldiers, many of them only recently escaped from slavery, fought and bled against Rebel forces, near the Kansas-Missouri border. Far from the central command in Washington D.C., Unionists in the Trans-Mississippi were able to act somewhat independently. This unfortunately resulted in violent guerilla bands called Jayhawkers, who entered into a mutual war of terror with Rebel Bushwhackers. There was a positive, however, the first regiment of black soldiers. This unit, the 1^st Kansas Colored, was hastily formed and entered into battle before Lincoln even authorized the creation of black regiments. Their trial of fire was the Battle of Island Mound, a furious skirmish with Confederate partisans in western Missouri.

This battle is mostly known simply for being the first use of a full black regiment in a Civil War battle. There are scant sources on it and actual primary sources can be counted on one hand. I plan to make this an ongoing series that covers the battle history of the 1^st Kansas. Not only was it the first true, if unauthorized, black regiment to fight for the Union, it fought in the Trans-Mississippi theatre (my area of focus), and in contrast to the more famous 54^th Massachusetts actually had a good win-loss record.

Sean McMeekin's Stalin's War: A New History of World War II

McMeekin, Sean. Stalin’s War: A New History of World War II. New York City: Basic Books, 2021.

Sean McMeekin is known for his work early 20^th Century Russian and Ottoman history, with special emphasis on the World War I and Russian Revolution era. In Stalin’s War he takes a deep look into World War II and presents a revisionist narrative that is certain to grab attention. With Stalin’s War, McMeekin seeks to challenge the conventional narrative, that the Second World War was “a heroic struggle between good and evil.” In particular he takes issues with the notion that Hitler was the personal driving force of the worldwide conflict. Instead it should be Stalin, head of the Soviet Union, who encouraged the other great powers to tear each other apart so that his communist nation could swoop in and exert its power over the world. McMeekin points out that Stalin’s influence was felt in both the European and Pacific Wars, while Nazi Germany only had a significant role in the former.

The Nazi-Soviet non-aggression pact enabled Stalin to make a series of easy conquests in Eastern Europe while the Germans fought a much tougher war against the Western Allies.  The Soviets got into a brief war with the Japanese, but were successful. Instead of using their leverage to drive back the Japanese for good, the Soviets gave them a free hand to continue their war with China. This kept Japan and Chiang’s Nationalists embroiled in the slog of war, while Mao’s Communists were able to sit back in their northern strongholds (McMeekin also points out that after 1945 the Soviets gave ample military resources to Mao with which to conquer China. The Americans by contrast withheld aid from Chiang and demanded that he form a peaceful government with the Communists, a totally unrealistic expectation). Stalin’s goal of making the great powers wear each other down through attrition was thrown off when Hitler struck him and rolled back all his 1939-1941 conquests. Now he had to go to the Western Allies for aid.

The New Mexico Campaign, 1861-1862 Part VII: Remembrance and Assessment

 

Remembrance & Historiography

At the end of the campaign Albert Peticolas, having just endured the horrid retreat from New Mexico, noted in his journal that “our operations out here will all be lost in history, when such great struggles are going on nearer home…”[1] The Civil War in the Southwest would indeed be considered a sideshow, though it would receive a few articles in Battles and Leaders of the Civil War. One of the writers, Brigadier-General Latham Anderson, attempted to argue the importance of the campaign. He wrote that if Sibley’s men had reached California, they would have doubtlessly created a strong presence in the state and created large implications for the Union war effort. With California’s coastline added to Confederate territory, the already strained Union blockade would have lost any effectiveness. However, such grand ramifications, even when expressed by a Civil War veteran and late 19^th Century general, remain speculative as Sibley’s campaign was done in before it could ever get out of New Mexico.[2] Only one Confederate, Teel, provided an article in which he castigated Sibley. “He did not husband his resources, and was too prone to let the morrow take care of itself,” he wrote. Teel believed that if Baylor had been given command, “the result might have been different.”[3] There was some argument among the Union contributors over Canby’s leadership, but this failed to spark any great historical inquiry into the campaign.

Some veterans kept memories of the campaign more alive through unit histories or published speeches. Once these survivors had died off, the war for the Far West became a piece of trivia, unknown by many. It often did not garner a mention in general Civil War histories, including Bruce Catton’s centennial trilogy. This is not to say that historians totally forgot about it. Several books were published in the 50s and 60s. Sibley’s campaign was presented in Robert Lee Kerby’s The Confederate Invasion of New Mexico and Arizona (1958), Martin Hardwick Hall’s Sibley’s New Mexico Campaign (1960), and several other works. Hall’s account of the campaign was the expansion of a doctoral dissertation, fleshed out with a wealth of newly discovered sources. Arthur Wright’s The Civil War in the Southwest (1964), is actually oriented around the adventures of James Carleton’s California Column rather than Sibley’s battles with Canby and the Coloradans.

Louis Allen's Burma: The Longest War, 1941-1945 (Book Review)

 

Allen, Louis. Burma: The Longest War, 1941-1945. Harry N. Abrams, 2019. London Phoenix Press, 1984.

The Burmese front in World War II is called the “Forgotten War”. In fact it was referred to as this even while it was still being fought. In Southeast Asia, it was the lowest on the Allies’ priorities in supply and strategy. Thus it is often overlooked, though there is sizeable literature on the subject. One of the most valuable sources on this front is Louis Allen’s The Longest War. Allen actually served there as an intelligence officer. With his wartime intelligence work and knowledge of the Japanese language, he not only relied on British sources, but also delved into Japanese ones through archival material and interviews with veterans (there were more survivors from continental than island fronts, as soldiers had somewhere to withdraw if defeated). Thus, unlike many other works on the Burma Campaign, the Japanese side of the story is exhaustively covered.

John Matteson's A Worse Place Than Hell (book review)

 

Matteson, John. A Worse Place Than Hell: How the Civil War Battle of Fredericksburg Changed a Nation. W.W. Norton & Company, February 9, 2021.

For this book, English professor John Matteson, who has won a Pulitzer Prize, delves into history by examining the lives of five people who endured the misery of the Battle of Fredericksburg. Through his career is in English, Matteson is well versed in 19^th Century American literature and thus already had good historical context going into his research for this book. In fact three of his five chosen characters are familiar to literature enthusiasts. There is the great American poet Walt Whitman. There is Little Women author Louisa May Alcott. Both served as nurses at the battle, Alcott in an official capacity and Whiteman in an unofficial one. Chaplain Arthur Fuller was the brother of Margaret Fuller, journalist and women’s rights advocate as well as the subject of Matteson’s Pulitzer-winning biography. The most familiar names is Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., an officer in the 20^th Massachusetts and future Supreme Court Justice. Finally, to represent the Confederate side, Matteson looks at John Pelham, the commander of Jeb Stuart’s horse artillery. Matteson delves into the intimate personal lives of these five figures, each who experienced a critical moment at the Battle of Fredericksburg.

The New Mexico Campaign, 1861-1862 Part VI: The Retreat

Canby Strikes Back

Canby, still unaware of the decisive victory at Glorieta Pass, had decided to finally leave the safety of Fort Craig and go after Sibley. He had an army of 1,210 men. Though this was smaller than the Sibley Brigade, he likely expected to link up with the force at Fort Union. The rest of the men at Fort Craig stayed behind under the command of Kit Carson. Canby planned to strike at Albuquerque, but was delayed by the same weather and supply conditions that dogged the Sibley Brigade. Of course he soon learned of what had happened up north and could only have had his confidence in victory raised.[1] For his part Sibley initially planned to continue his strivings for a Confederate empire in the west, only now he would have to assume a defensive posture while waiting for more support from Texas. He took up a position on the Manzano Mountains from which he could launch a future strike. This position was oriented towards the northeast. To him Slough’s Coloradans were the biggest threat. Slough himself was not planning to move further into New Mexico. He had been shaken by his experience at Pigeon’s Ranch. Despite the destruction of the Texan supply train, Slough had been hard-pressed and almost entrapped several times in the battle. Sibley’s movement left Albuquerque and his supply depot exposed from the south. When he learned that Canby was driving north at him, he realized this new danger and rushed south to save his supplies from the Federals.[2]

Louisa Canby

One such base of supply was in Santa Fe. Louisa Canby, wife of Edward Canby, had been left there when the Texans took over. In the aftermath of Glorieta Pass she took pity on the ragged, wounded Texans and took action. She grabbed several wagons, had cots created in them, and sent them towards Glorieta Pass to recover the wounded still stuck there. One Confederate fondly remembered, “Mrs. Canby won the hearts of all our boys through her kindness to our sick and wounded.” She spent hours every day visiting the wounded, “bringing them delicacies and cheering their drooping spirits with kind words.” She even revealed hidden caches of blankets belonging to the US government, an action which aroused some disgust from Santa Fe’s Unionists. Overall, however, she came out of the campaign with a sterling reputation for kindness and charity.[3] Less fortunate were the Texan wounded down south in Socorro. These recovering survivors of Valverde had not received any fresh supplies and were starving to death. With Canby heading north, Kit Carson found himself in charge of the situation. Carson agreed to rescue the Texans at Socorro with food and other supplies if they in turn surrendered themselves on terms of parole. The agreement was finalized and 10 days’ rations were delivered. However, over 30 Texans refused to surrender even for this bountiful gift and struggled north to unite with Sibley.[4]

The New Mexico Campaign, 1861-1862 Part V: The Battle of Glorieta Pass

The Battle of Apache Canyon

Each army was now based out of a ranch on at an end of Glorieta Pass, the Texans at Johnson’s Ranch and the Federals at Pigeon’s Ranch. Glorieta Pass ran on a northward slant from both east and west, creating a semi-triangular pathway. The Federals’ base of Pigeon’s Ranch was inside the pass itself, creating a narrow, defensible area. The ranch held may buildings and corrals, much of the former made of protective adobe. On the other end, the Texans tried to go to sleep on the night of the 25^th, but this proved difficult thanks to the cold ground. The men were finally able to get some shuteye in the middle of the 26^th, when the sun warmed up the ground. While it was still fairly dark, a Union scouting party encountered four reconnoitering Santa Fe Brigands. The Brigands asked if they were being relieved. The commander of the Federals replied “Yes, we came to relieve you of your arms.” The first encounter of Glorieta Pass was a bloodless surrender.[1]

On the 26^th Chivington and his Coloradan volunteers, as well as elements of the 3^rd U.S. Cavalry, turned the northward bend and headed south into Apache Canyon. At this moment he had over 400 men. Pyron himself led nearly 450 Texans out of camp. Two evenly matched forces were set for a blind collision. Pyron was aware of his blindness, not having heard from his four Brigand scouts since the previous evening. He sent 30 men ahead to investigate along with two artillery pieces (an odd supplement for a scouting force, but as it turned out a smart move). Around 2 PM this tiny force bumped into Chivington’s column. The surprised Texans lost an officer to capture, but were able to unlimber their guns. The Rebels fired off their artillery and the Coloradans went up the two mountainsides on their left and right. This firing alerted and in some cases woke up the rest of Pyron’s men. They temporarily halted the Federal advance with their artillery.[2] Chivington kept most of his men on the slopes. In his official report he claimed that his plan was to lure the enemy in so that they would pass by the hidden men. Then the Federals could descend and surround them. In fact the Confederate were withdrawing, and the ensuing entrapment came about because part of Pyron’s force failed to join the retreat, exposing their flank. The Federals poured into their rear. They formed a line at the mouth of a side canyon, funneling the enemy into one front. Major John Shropshire came to the rescue, riding right through the Federals to rally the men. He urged, “Boys, follow me.” When informed the men did not have enough ammunition to affect a breakout, he countered, “Then take your knives and follow me.” The following escape was largely successful, though not without some losses. Two soldiers tried to hide in a hole, but as the second crawled into it a Federal spotted his legs and pulled. The soldier was dragged out. Coming along with him was the other Texan, who was desperately clinging to his comrade.[3]