1
Beloved Son: The Life of George Washington Miller, 1843-1862
by Mary Lane (his great great niece)
George Washington Miller’s short life is remembered today for his
military service during the American Civil War recorded in his 57
wartime letters home and his tragic death. His letters and 150 year-old
daguerreotype photo were cherished by his family and dutifully passed
on. In 1955, copies were donated to the Western Michigan University
Historical Collection, when a relative used them for a university
American history class paper. They have been cited in several Civil War
publications, including William C. Davis’s Battle of Bull Run (Louisiana
University Press, May 1981) and the website of the “Old Third Michigan”
Infantry by Steven Soper at www.oldthirdmichigan.org The touching
story of his mother’s love and life-long hope for her son has been
recounted endlessly by family and friends to this day.
G.W. Miller was a 17 year-old farm boy, living far from important
events and civilization, when he eagerly joined the 3rd Michigan Infantry
in the earliest days of the American Civil War. As a sharpshooter at the
Battle of Fair Oaksi on Saturday, May 31, 1862, he was sent out on an
advance patrol from Bottoms Bridge on the rain swollen Chickahominy
River in Virginia. Although he was never determined as killed in action,
he was also never heard from again. Thus, to paraphrase Drew Gilpin
Faust’s seminal work, This Republic of Suffering, Death and the American
Civil War, he was a missing man separated from his name.
His distraught mother wrote officers and men in his company in
hopes of determining his fate. From his being reported missing to her
death 20 years later, Jannett Miller would light a lantern in the window
of their farmhouse and peer down the road at dusk every evening waiting
for the return of her lost son.
George Miller’s father’s family was proud of their descent from
colonist, William Miller, who came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony
before 1643, and Revolutionary War “Minute Man”, Stephen Miller, who
fought at the Battle of Saratoga in October 1777ii. Like many settlers,
the Millers moved from New England west to upstate New York, near
Rochester on Lake Erie, seeking more land and opportunities.
His maternal grandparents were 1st generation Scottish
immigrants from Perth in about the early 1810s. They settled at the
then-western frontier in upstate New York at Wheatland/Mumford where
many other Scots had locatediii.
2
In upstate New York, Jared Miller, George’s father, worked as a
farm hand summers and taught school winters.iv Jared Miller and
Jannett McPherson founded their family in Wheatland, New York but
soon purchased land in Bowne Township, Kent County, Michigan –
which was then heavily wooded and had only two roads west from
Detroitv. Indeed, it was so thickly forested that the Miller family lived in
relatives’ log cabin till Jared could cut a route to their propertyvi. Milo M.
Quaife, introducing the early Michigan pioneer history, The Bark Covered
House, wrote that the settlers were “forest dwellers” whose indispensable
tools were the rifle and the axe “and he was an artist in the use of
both.vii”
Like others, the Millers traveled from upstate New York across
Lake Erie to Michigan, then went by train to Battle Creek and Kalamazoo
with the final leg of their journey to Bowne Township by ox teamviii.
Jared Miller cleared his 160 acres to farm in July 1846 and built a log
cabin at the siteix. Throughout the 1850’s, he bought up adjacent
acreagex. On June 22, 1854, the Millers held a barn-raisingxi.
George Washington Miller was born the first child of 10 of Jared
and Jannett Miller on September 2, 1843 at Wheatland, New Yorkxii. But
brother Arthur’s birth in November 1848 occurred on the Michigan
frontierxiii.
George and his sister, Delia, were first taught at home by their
mother, but then attended the original shanty schoolhouse established
in the 1840’s in Bowne Townshipxiv. There were no books, so teacher
Rosina Baxter clipped selections of prose and poetry from newspapers to
read to the childrenxv. The 1860 United States Census showed George,
16 at the time, having attended school within that year, which appears to
be generally true of those aged 6-19 in Bowne in 1860, but was not
universally the case. All the Millers were literate, and Jared and Delia
are known to have kept diaries. From his references to important sites in
his letters, like Mount Vernon, Yorktown, and Pohick Church, it is clear
that George and his family knew and valued their U.S. historyxvi. They
knew American geography and how to read maps, as G.W. described his
locations and referred to checking it on a mapxvii.
The Millers valued education: during his service in the Third
Michigan Infantry, George was saving his army pay for later higher
education. He remarked in his letters: “I hate to loose this winters
schooling the worst way…”, but continuing in his usual upbeat attitude,
“Probably I shall learn all the better if I go to school againxviii.” Later,
younger brother Arthur attended college for law in Grand Rapids.
Additionally, the Millers must have esteemed culture/music since Arthur
3
was learning to fiddle and Jared Miller noted that he paid Reverend
Fairchild for teaching musicxix.
One tale recorded in Bowne was of “little Delia Miller being
terrified” on the way to school when she ‘encountered a group of Indians
on horsebackxx.’ The Native Americans living in the area were Ottawas
and Chippewas or Ojibwayxxi. They traded with the white settlers
venison and money for turnips and potatoesxxii. Some cultivated crops
and lived peacefully – even employing white settlers in their fields - and
were respected by the whitesxxiii. Wildlife abounded (bear, wolves, deer).
Jared Miller was listed as the 4th wealthiest household in Bowne
on the 1860 federal Censusxxiv. The Millers were undoubtedly like other
folks in historic rural Kent County, living almost self-sufficiently to
produce what their families needed, but also participating in the market
economyxxv. “American farm families generally produced partly for their
own consumption and partly for local barter”xxvi. It is likely that they
grew and produced wheat, corn, oats, meat, eggs, milk, vegetables,
butter and maple sugar. Although Jared hired a laborer to help him,
George, too, references farm work he did with his father: ridding the
fields of stonesxxvii, caring for animals. Clearly, George was accustomed
to hard work: “We are having easy times now laying around in the shade
doing nothing while you at home are hard at work sweating in the hot
sun, but we do not know what minute we will be ordered to pack up and
march and [maybe] fight.xxviii” It is likely that the Millers practiced the
traditional pre-industrial agricultural household life with the men/boys
doing the heavy farm field work.
Bowne Township consists of 36 square miles, saturated with many
wetlands, lakes, and crossed by the Coldwater River which flows into the
Grand River, the largest riparian system in Michigan. The 1860 federal
census found 718 people therein in 137 households. Most of the EuroAmerican inhabitants were born elsewhere, the biggest number being in
New York state. While many neighbors were foreign-born, no Africans,
African-Americans, or native Americans were listedxxix. The Millers’
neighbors were 20 houses spread across 4 square miles in Bowne and
Lowell Townships: nearby were the related McPherson and McNaughton
households.
At the start of the Civil War, 89 Bowne men might be called
military eligible in that they were aged 18-40 and single, without
dependants. It is said that by the end of the war, only young boys and
old men were left at homexxx.
The closest town to the Miller homestead was the incipient village
of Alto, 1.2 miles away, established in 1845. Alto had had been a post
4
office since 1851xxxi. The closest town of significance, where supplies and
money could be picked up, was Lowell 7 miles away. Jared Miller went
into “the Rapids” (Grand Rapids, 23 miles distant) and Battle Creek to
pick up things as wellxxxii.
At the first town meeting for Bowne Township held April 3, 1849,
Jared Miller was elected to the posts of Justice of the Peace and Overseer
of Highwaysxxxiii. Thus, we know Jared Miller was involved in community
life and held in some esteem by his peers.
An important part of the Millers’ life was their Baptist religion:
Jannett was one of four original organizers of the First Baptist Church of
Bowne; in fact, the first meeting was held at the Millers’ log cabin on
Timpson Avenuexxxiv. Jared was the first baptism at the church founding
on June 17, 1854 and later became a Deacon in the church. He noted in
his diary that he “resolved to take up the cross and follow Jesusxxxv.” It
is very probable that George attended the services of the Church held for
five years in the shanty schoolhouse with his family and that the Miller
family read the Bible together. Probably the Millers attended church
every Sundayxxxvi. Later, in 1888, the same church held a lecture by a
woman suffragette, sponsored traveling speakers, and almost hired a
woman ministerxxxvii!
Away from home in the Army of the Potomac, George reassured his
parents of his abstinence from the whiskey which was passed outxxxviii.
He noted the swearing in camp but that ‘the boys in [his] tent were pretty
moral fellows’. As a devoted son, he offered his father his own savings to
build the family’s new housexxxix. Later, when George was reported
missing in action, Jannett Miller wrote to his friends to try to discover
more information about the person he had become in the Union Army;
she asked whether he had ever read his Bible? George’s tent-mate,
Henry M. Morse, wrote to console her that he did “read a great deal”, but
what George read Morse was not surexl. George was described as
“truthful, honorable, and uprightxli”.
With so many new Michigan settlers originating from New York
state, where the New York Manumission Society was one of the largest
and most important antislavery/abolitionist organizations in US history,
and with Michigan’s location at the Canadian border, the terminus of the
“underground railroad”, sentiment in Michigan was firmly abolitionistxlii.
The Adam Crosswhite case at the U.S. Supreme Court, wherein citizens
in the town of Marshall, Michigan protected the Crosswhite family of
escaped slaves, directly led Kentucky Senator Henry Clay to push for
passage of the “Fugitive Slave Law” in 1850xliii. In Cass County,
Michigan the Antislavery Baptist Association was founded in 1853 at the
Chain Lake Baptist Churchxliv. The legendary activist, Sojourner Truth,
5
settled in Battle Creek, Michigan in 1857. Abraham Lincoln, John
Brown, and Fredrick Douglas all gave public speeches in Michigan in the
immediate ante-bellum periodxlv. The publication of John Brown senior’s
prison letters and his hanging by the state of Virginia electrified the
entire nation and catapulted many northerners out of their lethargy on
the abolition/slavery issue.
Jannett Miller attended a lecture by the son of the famous
abolitionist and hanged Harpers Ferry raider, John Brown, probably in
late 1861. George’s reaction to it makes his sympathies clear: “You must
have had quite a treat hearing John Brown Jr. speak: I should have
thought that he would have got plenty of volunteer[s]. I think I should
have enlisted the first thing if I had been there. Didn’t he get anybody to
enlist in that neighborhood?xlvi”
Not only did George Miller serve, but so too did his maternal uncles
William and Daniel McPherson, whom he met for the first time when
camped in Virginia. William McPherson was a sutter in “Halls’ New York
Cavalry”. Daniel was possibly in the 109th New York Infantry.
Family oral tradition has it that George Miller “ran away from
home” against his parents’ wishes to enlist at President Lincoln’s first
call for 75,000 volunteers on April 12, 1861xlvii. By April 28, 1861,
George Miller had already written home relating news. Did George walk
into Grand Rapids to enlist, or possibly hitch a ride with a wagon passing
along the way? Was he with another hale young man from Bowne,
Lowell, Cascade, Ada or Caledonia? There were certainly others known
to the Millers “from our neighborhood” who joined up early on, too, but
time seems to have erased this information.
Official records show enlistment on May 13, 1861 for 3 years. At
the time of his enlistment, George was only 17½ years old, which was
underage, but his age was listed as 19. His residence listed Cascade
rather than Bowne. Because of “his ardor and patriotic fervor”, as well
as his pleading, his parents were reluctantly persuaded to finally accept
the fact of his enlistment. The Michigan Volunteers recruiters signed
the following oath: “I certify, on honor, That I have minutely inspected
the volunteer (name inserted) previously to his enlistment, and that he
was entirely sober when enlisted; that, to the best of my judgment and
belief, he is of lawful age; and that, in accepting him as duly qualified to
perform the duties of an able-bodied soldier, I have strictly observed the
Regulations which govern the recruiting service. This soldier has (color)
eyes, (color) hair, (color) complexion, is (#) feet (#) inches high.
Signature, Recruiting Officer”.xlviii Since no record of his father’s consent
to his enlistment has been foundxlix, it appears as if George lied about his
age.
6
In exchange for their enlistment, privates were paid $15 per month
and provided “clothing, subsistence, and comfortable quarters”l. Later in
the war, signing bonuses lured recruitsli.
George certainly did go into Grand Rapids to join the Third
Michigan Infantry, then forming south of the city at the fairgrounds.
There, they camped for a month-and-a-half with all the accoutrements
and preparations for a war: a pure sweet water well for the men,
uniforms, guns, drilling, carriages visiting with ladies, marches down
Monroe Avenue, etc. On May 21, 1861 the Third Michigan was mustered
into state service, and June 10th into federal servicelii. A delegation of 34
young ladies presented a beautiful silk banner with gold inscription to
the regiment before their departureliii. The Third Michigan Infantry, 1040
men strong, left Grand Rapids by train on June 13, 1861.
But even before he had left Grand Rapids, George began his
correspondence to his family in April 1861 reporting his thoughts,
feelings, reactions to events/people, and observations of his world. Mail
came to his family by horseback to the towns of Hastings and Lowell and
took 6 to 10 days. During the Civil War, there were even express
servicesliv. The Millers sent George not only letters but also papers,
stamps, envelopes, newspapers, books, medicine, cheese, butter,
cookies, crackers, maple sugar, their pictures, and other comforts while
his regiment was camped outside Washingtonlv. George sent home his
picture(s), money, books, a red dahlia flower, seeds, a picture of General
McClellan for Reverend Fairchild, a watch as a gift for Delia, and
souvenirs - such as a sliver of wood from George Washington’s church
pew, a piece of rebel uniform and a rebel letter.
We often mischaracterize past citizens, societies, and technologies,
assuming that people in the nineteenth century only traveled one-way
(west) and only when they had to; this is untrue. Jannett McPherson
Miller traveled to visit her family back in New York in fall 1851 and her
parents and sister Libbie visited Michigan in fall 1854. Because
communications were less technological, we also assume that it was
more limited. Yet mail in London in the 185os took only about 3 hours
to be delivered across townlvi. Thus, we should not be too surprised that
news of George’s and other Bowne boys’ exploits and gossip in far-away
Washington and Virginia traveled fast in the small farming communities
of western Michigan. For example, on August 3, 1861 George wrote to
his parents to tell them that Chandler “Chancie” Andrews was indeed
with the Regiment during their whole time and was not AWOLlvii.
George’s parents must have chided him for writing to 20-year-old Miss
Marinda Draper as he wrote back: “In regard to my writing to the girls,
that corespondence with Marind Draper was none of my seeking. She
7
wrote to me first and I of course answered it; she kept on writing and I
have answered all of her letters. If the girls want I should write to them
they must write to me firstlviii.”
George frequently ended his letters with an exhortation to write
soon. His thirst for news was probably in part due to his missing home.
In return, he reported news of people in Washington, from the Grand
Rapids area or New York. G.W. must have been a busy correspondent,
writing not only his parents, his mother, sister Delia, brother, Marinda
Draper, Jim Truax, Horace and Helen, and probably to those people he
remarks on receiving letters from: Aunt Christie, Aunt Libbie, cousin R.
J. Boughton, “Mr. Stones people”, O. H. Stone, Will Lind. Some days he
wrote at least 2 letters. From time gaps, it appears that some letters
have been lost.
Like other spirited young men, George held the typical views of this
era about glory in battle: “The 2nd, 5th, and 37th went in and won the day
for us all and glory for themselveslix.” While George was anxious to
participate in battle, he never in his letters expressed a desire to kill: he
noted injuries, deaths, and when all men were safe. He found at
Williamsburg “the battlefield … strewn with dead secesh [southerners],
pale and ghastly…. It looks rather rough to see so many dead men but a
soldier soon learns to look on such things as a matter of courselx.” In
judging, we should also remember that what rings to us as naivety, may
have been partly a deep desire to participate in history in the making.
George relays information to his family also of the weaponry issued
him in the army (“minnie muskets” that shot one mile, “minnie rifles”,
and “Russian rifles”), and his own purchase of a revolver and a knife.lxi It
appears as if he witnessed an exhibition or testing of a Gatling gun: “We
have got a new species of artillery along with us. It fires a common
musket bullet and fires at the rate of sixty times a minute. I believe the
bullets are shoveled into a hopper and the machine is worked by a
leverlxii.”
The winter of 1861-2, the Third Michigan encamped near
Alexandria, Virginia protecting Washington D.C., then moved to the
Virginia Peninsula in March 1862. The living was tough. George bought
boots, shoes, and shirts to supplement the army issue wear which he felt
was inferiorlxiii. Union General Silas Casey described army conditions
during the Peninsula campaign movements as: “Furnished with scanty
transportation, occupying sickly positions, exposed to the inclemency of
the weather, at times without tents or blankets, and illy supplied with
rations and medical stores, the loss from sickness has been great…lxiv”
8
Except for bouts of cold, measles, mumps, and a sore finger,
George always noted excellent health to his family. Jannett Miller sent
George ‘rules for health’ and medicines. However, his innate constitution
or clean living may have been additional factor(s) as almost all his
extended family survived to their 70s or even 90s.
Most thought the Civil War would be brief, or that a conclusive
battle might determine all. George appears to have hoped in the winter
of 1861-2 that a spring campaign might enable peace to be declared in 3
months and for him to return home by falllxv. He appears to have
thought that the battle for Richmond would settle the matter decisively:
“I presume before you get this you will hear of the fait of Richmondlxvi.”
This comment reminds us that the entire nation – surely Mother and
Father Miller back home in Michigan – anxiously awaited news of battles.
The epic Battle of Fair Oaks, 12 miles outside of Richmondlxvii, so
close troops could hear the church bells ring, rates as “inconclusive” in
most analyses of victory versus defeat for Yankees or Rebels, but it was
portentous in its size, ferocity, and that serendipity so crucial in war.
84,000 men were involved, with 13, 736 causalities. Curiously, it
featured the first American military use of a hot air balloon in actual
battle by Professor Thaddeus S. C. Lowelxviii. George Miller had
marched by with his unit and seen the wagons of balloons and gases, if
not an actual balloon launchlxix.
May 30, 1862 produced a terrible thunderstorm over the troops
arrayed outside Richmond for the looming battle. Private Frank Eldredge
of the 7th Ohio chronicled: that he “… slept On the damp ground; awoke
at midnight to find several inches of water running under me; terrible
thunder shower; wet, Oh! How wet! Wet no name for it; lay down again
and “let her rip!lxx” As a result, a knee- to waist-deep mud was concocted
in some places, while in other spots, pooled water covered the ground
there. The morning of May 31st dawned grey and humid, as the Federal
troops waited for the attack that they were alerted was coming.
Union General-in-Chief George McClellan’s goal was to capture
Richmond and force the south to surrender. Confederate Commander-inChief General Joe Johnston planned to split the Union army, parts of
which were north and south of the Chickahominy River, and thereby
destroy the threat to the Confederate capitol. Johnson intended to pin
Keyes’ and Heintzelman’s corps (George Miller’s) of the Union Army against
or crossing the sodden Chickahominy River at Bottoms Bridgelxxi.
In preparation for the great battle, the Third Michigan soldiers’
articles were shipped back across the Chickahominy, so they would not
be encumbered.lxxii By good fortune for the Union army, the soldiers of
9
General Heintzelman’s corps, Kearney’s division, had crossed the
Chickahominy: one of the saving graces for the Union army, so that
between 4-7:30 pm on the afternoon of May 31, 1862, they were able to
reinforce Generals Casey’s and Couch’s divisions’ collapsing battle lines,
avert disastrous loss, and leave their position stronger.
One wonders whether G.W., like so many others, carried into battle
his family photos that his parents had sent him? Or did he safeguard
those by leaving them behind with his other belongings? Jannett Miller
wrote his fellow soldiers to inquire what was on his person in the battle?
What did he carry in his pocket into battle? Had he written his name on
a piece of paper, so that he might be identified and buried in a proper
grave, the deepest desire of so many Civil War soldierslxxiii? But his
friends did not know.
According to Confederate General Gustavus Woodson Smith’s
account in The Battle of Seven Pines, at the center was General Keyes’ IV
corps, containing the divisions of Generals Silas Casey and Darius
Couch, new recruits, who were overwhelmed and retreated from their 1st
line of defenses to their 2nd and then, to the 3rd line, in “inextricable
confusion”. Therefore, Berry’s brigade of Kearney’s division, including
the Third Michigan and George Miller, were shoved forward to halt the
Rebel flanking action that threatened disaster lxxiv.
Earlier that morning, the Third Michigan had marched up the
Williamsburg Road from Bottoms Bridge to the 3rd line of defense where
they halted about noon. George and his cohort waited till about 3 pm for
the battle they knew would comelxxv. While others of their unit and the
main armies lay in the torpid Virginia afternoon, George and the
sharpshooters led by Captain Judd advanced out in front. Perhaps some
wisecracked gallows humor, as George noted as they lined up for battle
at Williamsburg: “So we marched away down through a succession of
fields, formed in line of battle in front of a woods when the order was
countermanded …then filed into the woods, where our boys were
fighting. The boys were laughing and cracking jokes at one another as
indifferent as if going on brigade drilllxxvi.” Others would have prayed,
silently speculated, or recalled loved ones at home.
George and about 50 others were selected out of their regiment as
sharpshooterslxxvii. “[T]hey went into the battle about 100 yards in
advance of the balance of the regiment, but as the battle raged we were
soon all mixed up together and we had all we could do for every man to
look out for himselflxxviii.” Perhaps Captain Judd urged them forward, as
General Kearny memorably did at Williamsburg: “Don't worry, men,
they'll all be firing at me!lxxix” The last seen of George, by his colleagues,
was that “he was as far in advance as any that was seen in the
10
companylxxx.” George’s unit of the Third Corps, Third Division, and Third
Brigade was involved “in close action”. As William H. Drake wrote later:
“We had to fight Indian fashion such was the nature of the ground,
thickets, fallen timber and swampylxxxi.” Fortunately, their stand saved a
flanking attack on the Union forces. George and the Third were fighting
the forces of General R.H. Anderson, specifically Colonel Micah Jenkins’s
Palmetto Sharpshooters and 6th South Carolinianslxxxii.
According to an account of the battle written in a letter to the
Detroit Free Press under the name of “Josephus”, the 3rd’s Chaplain,
Reverend Joseph Anderson, wrote that the left part of the Third
Michigan’s line on the battlefield ‘was ordered up on the double-quick
into a thicket of pines, to the right of which was a slashing of oaks, from
which the rebels kept up a steady and galling firelxxxiii.” Captain Judd
and the 50 sharpshooters tried to penetrate this rebel redoubt. They
‘drove back the rebels from the thicket to a fence, where the rebels made
a stand’. The Third Michigan ‘pressed forward’ and drove the rebels back
another 80 rods till the sharpshooters ran out of their 60 rounds of
ammunition and outran their support.
The Rebels’ accounts of the fighting was remarkably similar:
“Entering the swamp, covered in water two or three feet deep, in which
the vines, briars, and felled timber made an almost impassable barrier,
we were driving the enemy steadily before us, when he suddenly moved
upon my right flank a strong force [Berry’s brigade] bearing Confederate
battle-flags and enfiladed my whole linelxxxiv.” As Colonel Jenkins of the
South Carolina reported: “The enemy [was reported] in line of battle,
advancing at the double-quick… I advanced my line toward them also at
the double-quick, and assumed a position perpendicular to the
Williamsburg road in the open field along the crest of a hill, the woods
immediately in front, and the enemy in line about one hundred yards
distant….the supporting regiment, under a terrible fire, gave back, The
enemy, encouraged, redoubled his fire; … cheered and advanced, and I
determined to meet him….firing full in face of the foe. The two lines
neared each other to thirty or forty yards…the rallied fragments who had
collected and resumed their fire from the woods to the right, and thus, at
7:40 P.M., we closed our busy day… Night having settled upon the
field…lxxxv”
Once an actual charge and battle began, probably George was
totally absorbed with the intensity of those moments: running or hiding
in White Oak Swamp’s slashed timbers, scrub oaks and pines aiming,
shooting, being hit, gushing blood, tying up his wound, and crawling for
cover or water. While Historian Earl Hess believes most combat occurred
at a distance of 100 yards, George may well have been felled at close
range in the frenzy of a chargelxxxvi. A later letter to George’s father noted
11
that ‘George and a boy from their company were seen going towards the
Rebelslxxxvii.’ ‘The boy George was last seen with’ was found dead after
the battle. George was the farthest advanced in front of any in their
companylxxxviii.
The Third Michigan was “heavily engaged” at the Battle of Fair
Oaks losing their Captain, Samuel Judd, that day, along with 30 others
killed, 124 wounded, and 15 missing. General Phil Kearny summarized
later: “On arriving at the field of battle we found certain zigzag rifle-pits
sheltering crowds of men, and the enemy firing from abatis and timber in
their front. General Casey remarked to me on coming, “If you will regain
our late camp, the day will still be ours.’ I had but the Third Michigan
up, but they moved forward with alacrity, dashing into the felled timber,
and commenced a desperate but determined contest, heedless of the
shell and ball which rained upon them… I directed General Berry [with
the Fifth Michigan] to turn the slashings and, fighting, gain the open
ground on the enemy’s right flank. This was perfectly accomplished.” Of
this day Colonel Ambrose A. Stevens reported later: “…The engagement
now became general, and it was with the greatest difficulty that our
corps of sharp-shooters, under command of Captain Judd, could
penetrate this mass of fallen timber and dislodge the enemy from their
strong position; but the steady and cool behavior of our men, and with
the telling effect of the deadly aim of their rifles, soon compelled them to
fall back…I also beg leave to call your attention to the gallant Captain
Judd, who fell while bravely leading our sharpshooters ..lxxxix” Color
Sergeant D. G. Crotty noted in his experiences with the Third Michigan,
Four Years of Campaigning with the Army of the Potomac: “The rebels
open a tremendous fire into our ranks and kill and wound nearly half
our regiment. After the firing closes, what is left of the regiment get back
to camp under our gallant Lieutenant Colonel Stevens. Oh, how many of
our comrades we leave behind, fallen in defense of their Nation’s flagxc.”
Certainly George Miller, and probably every man on the field, felt
as Lieutenant Henry Ropes of the 20th Massachusetts summed up: “My
Company suffered most in the battlexci.”
During the Civil War, the germ theory was not understood; there
was no antiseptic surgery, no anesthetics/painkillers (except whiskey),
no modern hospital facilities, and of course, poor records; thus, the
number of soldiers who died of wounds or diseases was appalling.
Despite the rules for health and his consciousness of remaining healthy,
in the middle of a raging battle in steamy, marshy woods, George Miller
was suddenly his own nurse: “…we had all we could do for every man to
look out for himself.” Did he visualize home and friends in the soft haze
of the body’s shock in his last moments? It is doubtful that he lived until
that night’s soft rain.
12
As will be explained further below, on May 31st, 1862, George W.
Miller was apparently killed that afternoon or evening by ballistic trauma
causing Class IV hemorrhaging (bleeding to death from gunshot wound)
to the thigh, probably hitting a major artery. Probably he was shot in
the femoral artery, in which case there would be massive blood loss and
shock. A gunshot hitting the femoral artery results in 20% blood loss
within minutesxcii. An upper femoral artery wound caused by a direct
shot from a heavy rifle is likely to kill within 10 minutes, even today with
modern medicinexciii.
According to the Annual Report of the Adjutant General for the state
of Michigan for 1862, 3 infantrymen remained missing from 31 May
1862: G.W. Miller, William A. Drake, and James V. Smith.xciv
Because George’s body was not found after the battle, he was listed
as missing, presumed taken prisoner: “We have made a thorough search
for George but as this body could not be found, he is undoubtedly taken
prisonerxcv.” Additionally, because of the near flanking action during the
intense battle, George was first believed captured: “…the enemy
overpowered our right wing which fell back. The enemy followed them up
and so we were holding them on the left (where George, the
sharpshooters, and Captain Judd were). They came very near flanking
us, it was with the utmost exertion that any of us escaped and there is
where we think our three men was taken prisoner, G. W. among the
restxcvi.” In August 1862 reports of George being a prisoner at Salisbury,
North Carolina surfaced, however these were dispelled by December
1862xcvii.
“The whole field in the rear of the line of firing was covered with
dead; and wounded men were coming in in great numbers, some
walking, some limping, some carried on stretchers and blankets, many
with shattered limbs exposed and dripping with bloodxcviii.” Of the battle
Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote: “…the maneurvering of a battle to be seensplendid and awful to behold...It is singular what indifference one gets to
look on the dead bodies in gray clothes which lie all around... As you go
through the woods you stumble...perhaps tread on the swollen bodies,
already fly blown and decaying, of men shot in the head back or bowelsMany of the wounds are terrible to look at….xcix”
The 2nd Michigan Infantry, detailed to hunt for dead or wounded on
the battlefield afterwards, reported finding an unidentified dead soldier of
the 3rd Michigan in a swampy area. He had been “wounded in the thigh
and he had bounded the wound (a tourniquet) with a black silk necktie
handkerchief to stop the flow of bloodc.” This soldier had crawled off to
13
the edge of a swamp, but he bled to death. Nevertheless his gun lay by
his side, on the stockof which was initialed, worked in with pin headsci.
Instead of reporting this to the 3rd Michigan, as they probably should
have done, they dug a hole in the muck with their bayonets and buried
him there where he fellcii.”
Of the 3 missing and unaccounted for immediately after the battle
(GWM, W. Drake, J. Smith), William H. Drake was eventually promoted
to Corporal and discharged for disability on January 13, 1863 at
Washingtonciii. James V. Smith returned to the regiment at Camp
Pitcher, Virginia on February 27, 1863. He was discharged to date May
30, 1863civ.
As the years passed, most concluded that George was that
unidentified 3rd Michigan soldier found by the 2nd Michigan Infantry and
buriedcv. Jannett Miller always hoped that her beloved son was lost,
imprisoned, or had amnesia and would eventually recover and find his
way home; she refused to believe he was dead. Every evening for the rest
of her life she lit a lantern to guide him home and walked down to the
road to peer off in the distance for George. Clara Barton, the pioneering
American nurse and humanitarian, after the war organized efforts to
account for the thousands of unaccounted for dead and relieve the
“intense anxiety… amounting in many instances almost to insanity” of
the surviving relativescvi.
Identification of dead soldiers was developed after the horrors of
battles, such as the Battle of Fair Oaks, where bodies could not be
recovered or interred for 3 days at which time they were ‘blackened’ and
bloated with decay as to be unidentifiablecvii. In fact, “dog-tags” were
proposed for the Union Army by New Yorker, John Kennedy, in 1862 but
not adoptedcviii. Later in the war, soldiers went into battle with their
names and addresses pinned onto their backs or knapsacks, or
scratched on belt bucklescix. General Kearny, “the Magnificent”, devised
a unit insignia to identify his officerscx. Any simple ID, however, might
have changed Jannett Miller’s grieving (and that of hundreds of
thousands of others).
Drew Gilpin Faust has observed that “death inevitably inspired
self-scrutiny and self-definition.” George Miller was aware of the reality
of death and dismemberment during his service: “We hear their band
playing the dead march and three volleys are fired over the poor fellows
grave, and farewell they are forgottencxi.” George wrote several times,
qualifying his future “if I live through this”, “this war might send me
home a cripple”, and “I have not laid out any plans for the future, but it
rather follows the course of eventscxii.” But according to his friend, Henry
Morse, who wrote to Jannett Miller after George’s disappearance: “He
14
always seemed so unconcerned about death, he appeared fearless.... cxiii”
It had taken only 4 months after his enlistment for George to wish for the
war’s endcxiv.
As so many soldiers would experience, George described some of
the dehumanizing inuring produced by the sheer scope of killing in the
Civil War: “It looks rather rough to see so many dead men but a soldier
soon learns to look on such things as a matter of course… A secesh
general was killed in the battle and his body left on the fieldcxv.” George
had already seen horrible, unexpected death and mangled corpsescxvi.
One soldier wrote after Williamsburg of bodies of the dead that “they
paved the earthcxvii.” On some later battlefields, it was impossible to walk
without stepping on bodiescxviii!
But George appears to feel himself apart from the “dead secesh”
who he viewed as having a “brutal and ignorant expression”, although by
this time, soldiers had had contacts with the other sidecxix. Of course, at
this early stage in the war, the real massacres had not yet been seen. By
the end of the Civil War, all the country - soldiers and civilians – was
exhausted and many then did feel the humanity of their “enemy”.
George expressed his sympathy for the living: “One of Company K
men while on picket had the misfortune to have both his feet shot off at
the ankle. The poor fellow will have to hobble through the world the rest
of his life with wooden feetcxx.” He was sorrowful, too, of the sadness of
war, its disruption to people and destructioncxxi.
A memorial monument to George Miller was erected with that of
his parents at Bowne Center Cemetery near Alto, Michigan. Even at her
own death, with George gone longer than he had lived, Jannett Miller
could not record on the marker that he was dead: he is still listed as
“Missing at Battle of Fair Oaks May 31, 1862”. Perhaps it was too
difficult for Jannett to bear the thought of her dear son George as Henry
M. Morse had described the bodies after the Battle of Fair Oaks at their
quick and unceremonious internment: rotting and blackened beyond
recognition for three days in the baking suncxxii. His tent-mates tried to
console Jannett Miller in letters: “I supose I have done [w]rong in
picturing to you the horrors of a battlefield for you will imagine
everything about him. But what does it mater what becomes of the body
when the spirit has gone to its heavenly father and left this world of sin
and sorrowcxxiii.” Several of those who wrote would soon be dead
themselves.
Surprisingly, George never mentions God or his beliefs on heaven,
hell, or the morals of killing in war in all of his letters, even on Christmas
Eve! Is this reticence or maintenance of privacy or something else? We
15
do know that George curtailed one of his letters because “Bill Dc is
poking around trying to see what I write so I guess I will closecxxiv.” The
tenor of his letters is always upbeat and generous toward others. He
never complained of the food, his health, or conditions.
George’s letters are a grass-roots view of the big events of the
times. As an aware citizen, he listened and observed political leaders like
President Abraham Lincoln, then-Senator Andrew Johnson, and the
army’s commanding generalscxxv. He saw other luminaries: the
notorious Dan Sickles, Generals Fitz John Porter and Edwin Sumner.
He was awed by the spectacle of participating in the Grand Review of
+50,000 men in arms (like President Lincoln, George appreciated the
sight, but wondered at the point of it)cxxvi.
George W. Miller, motivated by ideals, used his service to benefit
personally by visiting historic, cultural, and educational sites: Mount
Vernon, the Capitol, the Patent Office, the Smithsonian Institution, the
Declaration of Independence, Old Pohick Church (where George
Washington attended), the navy man-of-wars (Pensacola, Monitor), the
“hotel in Arlington [sic] where Colonel Elsworth was killed”cxxvii.
George’s letters, still easy to read and understand today, illustrate
wit and lively intelligence; they are an alert observation of the history
swirling around him, tinged by his missing of home and family, yet
urging other friends to join up and serve their country. Which, in spite
of their knowledge of his probable death – and that of thousands of
others - they continued to do.
G.W. Miller shows by his careful conclusions that he was of a
cautious nature. During his army life he heard many rumors, but
always qualified them as to their source: “I hope this war will end soon
but you must not flatter yourselves about seeing me home by spring, for
I am afraid you will be disappointed… A report has just come into camp
that General Lee of the secession army has surrendered but I will not
believe it till I hear it from better authoritycxxviii.”
George’s gentle sense of sarcasm/humor is evident throughout his
letters: “we made excellent marks for the enemy” or how the road’s mud
was so thick that they ‘had no other alternative but to paddle through
it’cxxix. Describing the Regimental Chaplain he complained: “Old Doc
Cummings disperses the gospel to us on the sabbath… but the principal
parts of his discourse consists of telling us how awful wicked we soldiers
are… he is the bigest nuisance of the Regiment. If he was like the
Chaplains in some of the other regiments, the boys would take some
interest in him, but as it is, its like smoking sawdust to hear himcxxx.”
16
‘The fit of their pants was up under the arm pits’ and ‘the weather was
hot enough to singe a fellow’s hair’cxxxi.
Strange to the modern eye/ear is his perennial closing: “Your
affectionate son (or brother) G.W. Miller”. While the seeming formality
is discordant today, one must recall the much stiffer and more serious
context of the times, changing use of language, and consider also that as
these letters were written, the author never knew where they might end
up. There can be no doubt though of the deep attachment between
George and his family, especially his mother.
Does George’s experience and death still have meaning for us and
can we learn anything from it today? Yes, it does and yes, we can. First,
today’s landscape from Virginia to New Mexico to Michigan memorializes
the names of heroes, battles, and events of the Civil War. During the
great Civil War, Americans recognized that they were engaged in an
historic time and struggle. “Most world-historic events – great military
battles, political revolutions – are self-consciously historic to the
participants living through them. They act knowing that their decisions
will be chronicled and dissected for decades or centuries to comecxxxii.”
Therefore, we should attribute George’s eagerness to his deep desire to
have an impact by actively contributing to history. George’s own
assessment was that he was “never more satisfied with anything in my
life” as soldiering in the Army of the Potomaccxxxiii. Would George still
have written that had he known that in only four months he would
sacrifice his life? By January 1, 1863, at a minimum, everyone in
America was clear of the war’s legendary proportions and purposes.
Secondly, the extrapolation of new knowledge and its conjoining
via the internet make reexamination of past lives expand our knowledge
in surprising ways. For example, Germaine Greer’s recent book,
Shakespeare’s Wife, presents a fabulous example of a re-examination
fulling out a life from the absolute meagerest of facts for a totally altered,
and enriched comprehension of our historic predecessors.
The American Civil War transformed the nation’s attitudes and
responsibilities for its veteranscxxxiv. About three million Americans
served in the Civil War of a total population of 31 millioncxxxv. While
many of them could not bring themselves to talk of the horrors of the war
without reliving them later, yet innumerable descendants still carry living
memories and lessons of some of those stories. It instilled ‘its message’
in the great jurist, Oliver Wendell Holmes, “War, when you are at it, is
horrible and dull. It is only when time has passed that you see that its
message was divinecxxxvi.”
17
And while other Miller descendants have suffered tragediescxxxvii,
the story of Jannett Miller’s anguish and devotion and George’s
commitment and death became family legend repeated with pride and
ethos as an example by six generations. Almost 50 years later when
photographed as an old woman surrounded by family, Delia Miller Colby,
wore a black silk scarf tied around her neck. Whereas some may have
felt George brazenly foolhardy for joining up, none ever spoke it. Instead,
George etched grief on his mother’s heart and emblazoned his sacrifice,
as the folly of war versus bravery and ideals; this is the moral of George’s
story. This idea is one of the classic human tales and is told again
always by families in their remembrances.
George’s letters perfectly illustrate Walt Whitman’s “majesty and
reality of the American common peoplecxxxviii.” Our society could benefit if
every family recounted a story of love and devotion as strong as George’s.
His family’s preservation of his legacy attests to their intense love,
commitment, and pride. So, while George Washington Miller is but
barely a footnote in the history of his regiment, he is a fine example of
the best of the American family and spirit.
________________________________________________________________________
Copies of George Miller’s surviving 57 letters home recounting his
experiences and impressions, and the 8 letters written by his friends or
officers after his being missing are in the Western Michigan University,
University Archives and Regional History Collections, donated by John F.
Lane, after being copied from hand-written copies made by Delia Miller
Colby of her mother, Jannett’s originals. They then came into the
possession of Lawrence Miller Headworth, a nephew. Because “Mac”
Headworth was so worried about preserving George’s letters, he would
not allow them to be taken out of his home and short-hand and longhand copies had to be made at his house by Norma Lane. Their current
whereabouts and those of the originals are not known.
Called the “Battle of Seven Pines” by southerners. See World Book Encyclopedia or
Encyclopedia Britannica or other general sources.
ii Daughters of the American Revolution Application for Membership of Mrs. Clara E.
Miller, March 13, 1931.
iii Online history of Wheatland: www.townofwheatland.org/History/Defautlt.asp Also
see “Wikipedia”, the free (on-line) encyclopedia”. Note the original name of Wheatland
was Inverness, formed from town of Caledonia, New York.
iv
Charles C. Chapman. Chapman’s Illustrated History of Kent County, Michigan.
Charles C. Chapman & Co. (Chicago, 1881). Page 596.
v
The single stagecoach road from Kalamazoo to Grand Rapids (now the Whitneyville
Road) per Beulah Hayward “A History of the Village of Alto 1945”, Bowne Township
Historical Society on-line at www. Bownehistory.org There existed well-traveled Indian
i
18
trails which frequently became roads. One such trail was around McEwen Lake and
connected the fledgling village of Alto, 1.2 miles north of the Miller farm, to the
Stagecoach Road, 5 miles west. Otherwise, early travel was along rivers. Also see Mary
Ashman, Pathways and Clearings (Grand Rapids Museum 1981), “Travel Conditions”,
pages 4-5.
vi
Grand Rapids Press, obituary of Mrs. Delia M. Colby (nee Miller), July 16, 1935.
vii
William Nowlin. The Bark Covered House, Or Back in the Woods Again. Dearborn
Historical Commission (Dearborn, 1992). “Historical Introduction” by Milo M. Quaife,
page xiii (1937).
viii
Grand Rapids Press, obituary of Mrs. Delia M. Colby, July 16, 1935. Also written
Miller Family Histories. For a general description, see Ashman Pathways and
Clearings, particularly “Travel Conditions” section.
ix
Chapman’s Illustrated History of Kent County. Pages 596, 597.
x
“Notes from my Father’s Diary” copied by Delia Miller Colby for years 1850-1858.
Original notebook in possession of author with thanks to Leslie Kooinga (inherited from
Delia Miller Colby to Theodosia Colby Lane to Florence Lane Cramton to Rosemarie
Nichols Cramton to Leslie Cramton Kooinga to Mary Lane).
xi
“Notes from my Father’s Diary” copied by Delia Miller Colby for years 1850-1858.
xii Original notebook of Delia Maria Miller Colby. Also written family history by Georgia
V. Miller (youngest child of Jared and Jannett, sister of G.W.), dated 1928. Also from
memorial stone in Bowne Center Cemetery and U.S. Federal Census for 1850, 1860.
xiii Original notebook of Delia Maria Miller Colby. Georgia Miller Family History, Delia
Miller obituary in Grand Rapids Press, U.S. Census records.
xiv
Untitled (but handwritten title “Morse Lake and Stone Schools”), undated, and
unsigned (but attributed to Nellie Winks Timpson with help from Anna Pinckney
Fairchilds). 4 page hand-out from the Bowne Township Historical Society and Bowne
Center School.
xv
“Morse Lake and Stone Schools paper attributed to Timpson and Fairchilds. IBID,
however, Jared Miller’s Diary (copied by Delia Miller Colby) records the teacher being
Miss Beebe in summer 1850 and 1854.
xvi
G. W. Miller letters of July 27, 1861, August 3, 1861, October 15, 1861, November
14, 1861.
xvii
G. W. Miller letter of July 7, 1861.
xviii
G. W. Miller letter of September 4, 1861.
xix
“Notes from my Father’s Diary” copied by Delia Miller Colby for November 13, 1852.
xx
“They just grimaced broadly at her terror…” from “Morse Lake and Stone Schools”.
Timpson and Fairchilds. Also oral family history.
xxi
Chapman. History of Kent County. Page 585. Lowell Ledger, “Negake Returns to
Birth Place: Aged Indian Visits Lowell after Sixty Years ”, August 16, 1916. Pg 1.
xxii
Chapman. History of Kent County. Page 585.
xxiii Ashman. Pathways and Clearings. “Part-time Farmers”, page 15 (story of the
venerated chief’s wife). Chapman’s History of Kent. Page 585.
xxiv Of a total of 137 households listed for Bowne in 1860. Value of his real estate listed
as $5,000 and personal property $600.
xxv
According to “Notes from my Father’s Diary” copied by Delia Miller Colby for years
1850-1858, Jared Miller paid school teacher $10 in cash, traded goods, hired farm
workers participated in clearing of land for cemetery and in school district election.
“Most American family farmers welcomed the chance to buy and sell in larger markets.”
Daniel Walker Howe, What Hath God Wrought: The Transformation of America, 18151848. Oxford University Press (New York, 2007) at page 5.
xxvi
Howe. What Hath God Wrought. Pg. 33.
xxvii
G. W. Miller letter of July 7, 1861.
xxviii
G. W. Miller letter of May 28, 1862.
19
Per Howe, What Hath God Wrought, Indian not taxed were exempted from the
census. Page 23.
xxx
History of Bowne.
xxxi
Walter Romig. Michigan Place names: The History of the Founding and the Naming of
More than Five Thousand Past and Present Michigan Communities. Wayne State
University Press (Detroit 1973). Page 21.
xxxii
“Notes from my Father’s Diary” copied by Delia Miller Colby for years 1850-1858.
“Nov 20, 1855: went to Battle Creek for Stones goods.”
xxxiii
Chapman. History of Kent County. Page 586.
xxxiv
Two other founders were the Reverend Fairchild and his wife. History of Kent
County: together with sketches of its cities, villages, and townships and biographies of
representative citizens. Charles C. Chapman. (Chicago, 1881) Page 587-588. Also per
website of the First Baptist Church of Alto at www.fbca.com “Church History” link.
xxxv “Notes from my Father’s Diary” copied by Delia Miller Colby for years 1850-1855.
Jared recorded the organization as June 17 and his baptism Sunday, June 25, 1854.
On February 7, 1857 Jared was appointed Deacon. History of Kent County. Also www.
fbca.com IBID.
xxxvi
G. W. Miller letter of August 18, 1861: George “Much obliged to you for that piece of
lawn or whatever it is. I suppose you appear in it ever Sunday.”
xxxvii
4 page written history “The First Baptist Church of Alto, June 17, 1854 ---June 17,
1987”, author unknown. Available from Alto Baptist Church.
xxxviii
G. W. Miller letter of August 18, 1861.
xxxix
G. W. Miller letter of December 12, 1861, January 6, 1862.
xl
Henry M. Morse letter to Mrs. Miller of December 11, 1862.
xli Undated letter from W. H. Drake to “Mrs. Miller, Madam” in G. W. Miller collection.
xlii
25% of the 1860 population had been born in New York state, Ashman, Pathways
and Clearings, “The Settlers”, page 2. On “abolition”, see Wikipedia on-line. Per Don
Harvey Civil War site, Michigan had so many volunteers in excess of its 31 Regiments,
that Michiganders were placed in other states’ regiments.
http://users.aol.com/dlharvey/cwmireg.htm
xliii
US Supreme Court case of Giltner v. Gorham (1847). Also John Codman Hurd. The
Law of Freedom and Bondage in the United States. Little, Brown and Co. (Boston, 18581862). http://courts.michigan.gov/lc-gallery/mich-milestones.htm
xliv
Michigan Historical Center on-line: “Timeline of Slavery, Resistance, and Freedom”
at: http://www.michigan.gov/hal/o,1607,7-160-17451_18670_44390-158720-,00.html
xlv
Michigan History magazine, “Lincoln visits Kalamazoo in 1856”. July-August 2006.
March 12, 1859 meeting between Fredrick Douglas and John Brown in Detroit
described on Michigan Historical Marker at 633 East Congress, Detroit,
http://www.detroit1701.org/Douglas-Brown.html
xlvi
G. W. Miller letter of December 18, 1861. Which “Neighborhood” unknown at this
time to author.
xlvii
George confirms the oral stories in his letter of August 18, 1861 when he wrote to
Brother: “I have not had my clothes off to sleep since I ran away from home.”
xlviii
“Volunteer Enlistment. State of Michigan” form. Author in possession of
“Enlistment” of Harlan P. Colby, 3rd Michigan, Company A, signed 15 December 1864 at
Grand Rapids. Italics added.
xlix Per email from Steve Soper, “Old Third Michigan Project”, August 4, 2008.
l
Recruitment poster of the Second Regiment of the Empire (New York) Brigade.
li
Recruitment poster of the Second Regiment of the Empire (New York) Brigade.
lii
John Robertson, Adjutant General , Michigan in the War. S. George & Co. State
Printers and Binders (Lansing, 1882). Page 206. William J. Etten. A Citizen’s History
xxix
20
of Grand Rapids, Michigan with program of the Campau Centennial, section “Patriots in
Civil War Times”. A. P. Johnson Co. (1926).
liii
Jno Robertson, Michigan in the War. William Etten. A Citizen’s History.
liv
George used the Adams Express to send back money. G. W. Miller letter of January
15, 1862.
lv
All items mentioned in George’s letters.
lvi
Steven Johnson. The Ghost Map: The Story of London’s Most Terrifying Epidemic – and
How it Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World. Riverhead Books/Penguin
Group (New York, 2006), citing Lisa Picard. Victorian London: the Life of a City 18401870. St. Martin’s Press (New York, 2006). Page 68.
lvii
G. W. Miller letter of August 3, 1861.
lviii
G. W. Miller letter of January 6, 1862. Marinda’s brother Hezekiah, the same age as
George, enlisted in the 1st Michigan Engineers and Mechanics, Company F on
December 17, 1863.
lix
G. W. Miller letter of May 7, 1862.
lx
G. W. Miller letter of May 7, 1862.
lxi
G. W. Miller letters of August 18, 1861, January 15, 1862.
lxii
G. W. Miller letter of May 7, 1862.
lxiii
G. W. Miller letter of January 15, 1862, August 18, 1861.
lxiv
Gustavus Woodson Smith. The Battle of Seven Pines. C. G. Crawford Printer and
Stationer (New York 1891). Reprint Morningside Bookshop (Dayton, Ohio 1974). Page
35.
lxv
G. W. Miller letter of February 18, 1862.
lxvi
G. W. Miller letter of May 28, 1862.
lxvii
George states they were 12 miles from Richmond, although current maps show 6-10
miles to the Richmond city center.
lxviii http://civilwarlandscapes.org/cwla/cwsac/va014.htm
lxix
G. W. Miller letter of February 28, 1862.
lxx
http://ehistory.osu.edu/osu/sources/letters/eldredge/default.cfm
lxxi
David G. Martin. The Peninsula Campaign March – July 1862. Combined Books
(Conshohocken, Pennsylvania 1992). Page 105.
lxxii
G. W. Miller letter of May 28, 1862.
lxxiii
Drew Gilpin Faust. This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War.
Alfred A Knopf (New York, 2008). Page 120.
lxxiv
G. Smith. The Battle of Seven Pines. Page 41.
lxxv
G. Smith. The Battle of Severn Pines. Page 41.
lxxvi
G. W. Miller letter of May 7, 1862.
lxxvii
Corporal Peter D. Lawyer letter to Mrs. J. Miller of June 22, 1862. Corporal Lawyer
was discharged for disability at Washington, D.C. on January 13, 1863.
lxxviii
Lawyer letter of June 22, 1862.
lxxix
Wikipedia article on Phillip Kearny at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_Kearny
lxxx
Lawyer letter of June 22, 1862.
lxxxi W. H. Drake letter to “Mrs. Miller, Madam” undated from Camp Parole, Alexandria,
Virginia. William Drake was released from prison on parole. December 28, 1862 he
was discharged at Alexandria, Virginia for organic heart disease. See Steve Soper, “Old
Third Michigan Infantry Project” at www.oldthirdmichigan.org/
lxxxii
David G. Martin. The Peninsula Campaign. Page 113. R. H. Anderson was
promoted to Major General after Seven Pines/Fair Oaks.
lxxxiii
Reverend Joseph Anderson letter to Detroit Free Press under name of Josephus
describing the Battle of Fair Oaks. Available on:
http://thirdmichigan.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2007-0716T23%3A49%3A00-04%3A00&max-results=50
21
G. Smith. The Battle of Seven Pines. Page 54, description by General John B.
Gordon. George’s friend, Ben Morse, was later awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor
his capture of a Confederate battle flag.
lxxxv
G. Smith. The Battle of Seven Pines. Page 62.
lxxxvi
Faust. This Republic, page 41, quoting Earl J. Hess. The Union Soldier in Battle:
Enduring the Ordeal of Combat. University Press of Kansas (Lawrence, 1997). Page 9293. Only 5.5% of wounds were from artillery; 0.4% of war injuries were bayonet
wounds. Thus, George was most likely hit by a bullet in the raging battle.
lxxxvii
Henry M. Morse letter to Mr. Miller, Sir of June 7, 1862.
lxxxviii
Corporal Peter D. Lawyer letter to Mrs. J. Miller of June 22, 1862.
lxxxix Jno Robertson. Michigan in the War. Pages 211-212.
xc
D. G. Crotty. Four Years Campaigning with the Army of the Potomac. Dygert Bros.
(Grand Rapids, 1874). Although faulty, the only known first-person account of the
Third Michigan’s war experiences.
xci Letters of Lieutenant Henry Ropes of the 20th Massachusetts (killed by friendly fire at
the Battle of Gettysburg) in the Rare Books and Manuscripts Department of the Boston
Public Library (1888). On-line at: http://harvardregiment.org/bullacct.html or
Anthony J. Milano, “Letters from the Harvard Regiments: The Story of the 2nd and 20th
Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Regiments from 1861 through 1863 as told by the
letters of their Officers” (Civil War: The Magazine of the Civil War Society, Vol. XIII, pp.
23-24)
xcii In November 2007, National Football League star, Sean Taylor, died within hours of
being shot in the thigh, even though emergency medical personnel were called within 15
minutes of his bleeding. “Femoral artery bleeds very Quickly”, by Desonta Holder and
Erika Beras in the Miami Herald, November 28, 2007. Dr. Fahim Habib was quoted as
stating that one could bleed to death in several minutes. It is possible to lose up to
20% of the body’s entire blood supply through the 2-3 centimeters wide femoral artery,
per same article.
xciii Wiki.Ansers.com/Q/Can_you_survive_a_gunshot_wound_to_the_femoral_artery
xciv
Adjutant General’s Office. Annual Report of the Adjutant General, 1862, 1863, 1864,
1865-1866. John A. Kerr & Co. (Lansing), E514.2.M5; 6 v., page 38.
xcv
H. M. Pool letter to Mrs. Miller of June 8, 1862. Henry Pool wrote returning Mrs.
Miller’s letter dated May 28, 1862 to George. Henry died of disease only 2 weeks later
on June 25, 1862 at Savage Station, Virginia.
xcvi
Lawyer letter of June 22, 1862.
xcvii
Henry Morse wrote to Mrs. Miller on August 8, 1862 of such reports, as did J. E.
Harrison for General Wilcox in letter to “Mrs. J. Miller, Madam” on August 27, 1862.
However, Jesse Coon wrote Mrs. Miller on December 8, 1862 that George was not with
him in Salisbury prison. Jesse was killed at Chancellorsville, Virginia on May 3, 1863.
xcviii Letter of Lieutenant Henry Ropes, 20th Massachusetts at the Boston Public Library.
xcix
Letter of Oliver Wendell Homes in Rare Books at the Boston Public Library.
c
Oral recounting by 2nd Michigan Infantry that: “The 2nd was detailed to hunt for the
dead and wounded……….” In written Miller-Colby Family History, page 9 from Leona
Colby Weiland to George Lane.
ci
IBID. Company A of the 3rd Michigan had all done such initialing to identify
themselves.
cii
Written Miller-Colby Family History, page 9 from Leona Colby Weiland to George
Lane.
lxxxiv
civ
Michigan Volunteers 1861-1865. Record of Third Michigan, volume 3, page 104.
22
Faust. This Republic, quoting Letters of Clara Barton on page 212.
Henry M. Morse Letter to Mrs. Miller of December 11, 1862.
cviii
Wikipedia article on dog-tags.
cix
Faust. This Republic. Page 120. Also see:
http://www.qmfound.com/short_history_of_identification_tags.htm
cx
Wikipedia article on Phil Kearny or on: http://civilwartalk.com/forums/civil-warquotations/19869-kearny-phil.html
cxi
G. W. Miller letter of March 5, 1862.
cxii
G. W. Miller letter of August 25, 1861, November 27, 1861, January 6, 1861, or “if I
don’t get pegged out by some unlucky bullet” February 18, 1862.
cxiii
Henry M. Morse Letter to Mrs. Miller of December 11, 1862.
cxiv
G. W. Miller letters of September 4, 1861, January 27, 1862, and March 5, 1862.
cxv
G. W. Miller letter of May 7, 1862.
cxvi
G. W. Miller letter of April 18, 1862.
cxvii
Faust. This Republic. Page 58.
cxviii
Faust. This Republic. Page 58.
cxix
G. W. Miller letter of May 7, 1862.
cxx G. W. Miller letter of April 18, 1862. This soldier was Fernando Page who survived
the war to live a long and successful life, according to Steve Soper, “The Old Third
Michigan “ project.
cxxi
G. W. Miller letter of September 4, 1861.
cxxii Henry M. Morse letter to Mrs. Miller of December 11, 1862. Henry Morse enlisted in
Company A of the Third Michigan on May 13, 1861. He survived the war and was
discharged June 20, 1864 at the expiration of his 3 years service in Detroit.
cxxiii
Henry M. Morse Letter to Mrs. Miller of December 11, 1862.
cxxiv
G. W. Miller letter of May 21, 1862. It is unclear where in the 2 copying processes
this seeming mis-transcription occurred.
cxxv
G. W. Miller letters of July 7, 1861 and September 4, 1861. George refers to him as
“Ex-Governor Johnson of Tennessee”. Johnson would be Vice President in 1864 and
succeed Lincoln in 1865.
cxxvi
G. W. Miller letter of November 21, 1861.
cxxvii
G. W. Miller letters of July 27, 1861, August 3, 1861, March 27, 1862, July 20,
1861. Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth, 1st casualty of the war May 25, 1861 in a famous
incident at the Marshall House Inn in Alexandria, Virginia. See general historic sources
or on-line Wikipedia, Google.
cxxviii
G. W. Miller letter of September 4, 1861
cxxix
G. W. Miller letters of August 3, 1861 and May 7, 1862.
cxxx
G. W. Miller letter of December 28, 1861.
cxxxi
G. W. Miller letter of July 7, 1861, August 18, 1861.
cxxxii
S. Johnson. The Ghost Map. Pg. 32.
cxxxiii
G.W. Miller letter of January 30, 1862.
cxxxiv Faust. This Republic. Pages 266, 267.
cxxxv
Faust. This Republic. Pages 3, 39. The National Park Service website gives a figure
of 3.5 million, see www.nps.gov/archives
cxxxvi
Faust. This Republic. Page 270-271.
cxxxvii
For example, the September 6, 1935 car-train wreck double deaths of teenagers
Sumner and Ruth Cramton which were so painful they were not talked about.
cxxxviii
Walt Whitman quoted in Faust. This Republic. Page 123.
cvi
cvii