Editor’s note: This story from 1962 contains dated language and stereotypes that are no longer appropriate to be used today. In the interest of keeping a historical record, it appears here as it was originally published.
Mr. Jones, a member of the Class of 1956, is Producer at McCarter Theatre, home not only of the Triangle Club, but of Princeton’s experiment in university-based professional repertory. The below, compiled from diaries, letters, newspaper accounts and other contemporary sources, is a condensed version of the dramatic reading given both on campus and off-Broadway in New York this winter, and reflects Mr. Jones’ deprecation of our current preoccupation with one of the saddest chapters in our national history, now regarded in some quarters as a sort of glorified all-American outing. The Winslow Homer drawings are from Civil War issues of Harper’s Weekly.
The curtain is up. Standing behind a lectern center stage is a single actor; on either side are two others, and stage left are two instrumentalists and three singers. None are dressed or made up to look particular roles — each is simply an actor reading the ideas of, and occasionally going into the character of many persons, important and obscure, who were involved in the war. Only the colors are literal — back for the central actor who represents the ideas of Lincoln, and for the warring sides, dark blue and dark gray suits. Thus, in the script, actors will be designated “black,” “blue,” and “gray.”
Private letter, March 4, 1861:
Blue: Dear Father:
This morning broke badly, but at noon the sky cleared…I went to the Inaugural. When Abraham rose and came forward and rang out the words “Fellow citizens of the United States,” he loomed and grew and was ugly no longer. And when the address closed and cheering subsided, Taney rose, almost as tall as Lincoln, and administered the oath, Lincoln repeating it. And as the words, “Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution” came ringing out, bent and kissed the book. And for one, I breathed freer and gladder than for months. The man looked a man, and acted a man and President…
Gray: Reaching the platform, his discomfort was visibly increased by not knowing what to do with hat and cane…and so he stood there, the target for ten thousand eyes, holding cane in one hand and hat in the other, the very picture of helpless embarrassment.
Black: We are not enemies but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the union, when touched, as surely as they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
Editorial, Charleston Mercury, March 7, 1861:
Gray: Lincoln’s Inaugural was received here last night…it means coercion…War!...As yet, the Orangutan in the White House has not issued his orders for the collection of revenue or for the reinforcement of the forts.
Article in Vanity Fair Magazine:
Blue: Mr. Lincoln continues to measure with all tall men who present themselves, and in various other dignified ways presents a full understanding of the grave duties which surround him. The assertion that he dare not let his measure be known is a weak invention of the enemy…he measures with every man who wants him to!
Military Diary, March, 12, 1861:
Blue: About 4 A.M. I was awakened by someone groping about my room in the dark and calling out my name. It proved to be Anderson, who came to announce to me that he had just received a dispatch from Beauregard dated 3:20 A.M., that he should open fire on us in an hour. Finding he was determined not to return the fire until after breakfast, I remained in bed…
Citizen’s Diary, March 12, 1861:
Gray: No one has been hurt after all! How gay we were last night! For Sumter has been on fire, but Anderson has not yet silenced any of our guns. But the sound of those guns makes regular meals impossible. Mrs. Wigfall and I solaced ourselves with tea in my room. These women all have a satisfying faith: “God is on our side,” they say…
Black: Now, therefore, I Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, in virtue of the power in me vested by the Constitution and the laws, have sought fit to call forth, and hereby call forth, the militia of the several states of the Union, to cause the laws to be duly executed. The details of this object will be immediately communicated to the state authorities through the War Department.
Poem: Written for a Southern paper
Gray:
Now bring me out my buckskin suit — my pouch and powder too
we’ll see if 76 can shoot as 16 used to do
Old Bess, we’ve kept our barrels bright
our trigger quick and true
As far, if not as fine a sight as long ago we drew
We’ve seen the Redcoat British bleed
The redskin Indian too
We never thought to draw a bead on Yankee-doodle-do.
Blue: The sun shone brilliantly and the fresh morning air was highly invigorating. The troops on foot started off as joyfully as if they were bound for a New England picnic…the huge column fell into line at last and we could see the immense body of men in uniform dress with glistening arms, move steadily forward. We were over 20,000 strong…and marching onward!
Statistics:
Gray: First Bull Run: 3,451 killed and wounded; 1,322 missing
Shiloh: 23,741 killed and wounded
Peninsula Campaign: 28,991 killed and wounded; 6,999 missing
Second Bull Run: 23,000 men killed and wounded and very little gained by either side…survivors wrote home…
Blue: Oh, that I could never behold such a sight again! To think of it among civilized people killing one another like beasts…
Gray: This was my first battle. The test was pretty severe but thank God I had the nerve to stand it. Time rolls off very fast in battle…I have been told that at such a time men do not care for anything, but it was different with me. The thought of you and those wee little ones hurt me more than anything else…
Blue: I have always crave a fight a little just to know what it is to go into battle but I got my chance to try my hand and I never want to go into another fight any more…Sister, I want to come home…
Gray: I don’t think the Regiment could muster this morning over 150 or 200 men and there were 530 went into the engagement. I got some of the men from the 5th Regiment to go and look up our wounded. I never had a conception of the horrors of war until then. On going around that battlefield with a candle searching for my friends I could hear on all sides the dreadful groans of the wounded and their heart-piercing cries for water and assistance. May I never see more such in my life.
Soldier’s Diary, 1862:
Gray: It was late summer, orders were given to go to the picket early in the morning to fight. The next day, our squad, Sergeant Joe Reid in command, sauntered along the bank of the Rappahonack which was at this place about two hundred yards wide, flowing slowly oceanward…as pretty a body of water as the sun ever shone upon. A faint haloo came from the other side:
Blue: Johnny Reb!...I say, Johnny Reb, don’t shoot!
Gray: …All right, Yankee…
Blue: What command are you?
Gray: The Black Horse Cavalry…who are you?
Blue: The Second Michigan Cavalry.
Gray: Come out on the bank and show yourselves…we won’t fire.
Blue: On your honor, Johnny Reb?
Gray: On my honor.
Blue: Have you any tobacco?
Gray: Plenty of it.
Blue: How about sugar and coffee?
Gray: Not a taste nor a smell.
Blue: Let’s trade then, Johnny Reb.
Gray: Very well. We haven’t much with us, but we’ll send to Fredericksburg…so meet us here tonight.
Blue: All right…say, Johnny, want some newspapers?
Gray: Yeh!
Blue: Then we’re going to send you some…
Antietam, September 17
Gray: On September 17th, McClellan’s 90,000 troops met Lee’s 50,000 at Antietam Creek. Around a cornfield and a little white Dunker Church, around a stone bridge and in a pasture worn with cowpaths swarmed a human tornado. In the fields lay men in the thousands. Flat corn leaves fallen over some of the bodies were spattered and blotched with blood drying and turning rusty. On a golden autumn Sabbath morning, 3-mile lines of men had faced each other with guns. And when the shooting was over, 20,000 men had been lost.
Black: Governor Curtin of Pennsylvania came to Washington, fresh from the Fredericksburg battlefield. “Mr. President,” he said, “it was not a battle — it was a butchery.” Between the fog of morning and the twilight of evening, 7,000 killed and wounded soldiers fell by Lee’s trap. Total Confederate losses were 5,309…Union 12,653.
Gray: The pride of the Yankee army that had insolently ridden over the valley was melted like snow in the sun! It seemed like just retribution for the evils they have inflicted on an innocent people…we pursued the foe that had gloried in its pride and power…amid the huzzas, shouts, tears, thanks, looks of unutterable delight, waving the Confederate flags we went!!!
Blue: The rear is indescribably awful…the mist still clings to the river, the sun struggles up red and fiery, and the air is suffocating with the odor of gunpowder.
Gray: After the battle the soil had the damp mouldy odor of blood. Surgeons were at work cutting off legs and arms with the most businesslike air, and nearby the dead were being buried in a long trench, where they were laid out without mark or distinction.
Letters from the front to sweethearts:
Blue:
The rose is red the sea is deep
The vilet is blue and in your arms
Shuger is sweet I long to sleep
And so are you A heap…Nancy
Gray: You kiss Sue for me and tell Sue to kiss you for me and by managing the thing that way I will get two kisses; and tell Feb if he possibly can steal a kiss from Miss Betty and after he kisses her tell her it was from me, I would be very glad, indeed I would!
Blue:
I feel like a lonesome dove that has lost their mate.
The rose is red and the vilets blue
And shan’t nary give me a present that is purty like you
As round as a ring has no end
So is my love for you my friend
When I am asleep I am dreaming about you
And when I’m awake I take no rest…ever morning…
My pen is bad, my ink is pale
My love for you shall never fail
I want you to write to me, I must come to a close
So God Bless Your Buttons!
Black: As to the policy I seem to be pursuing, I have not meant to leave anyone in doubt. I would save the Union. If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could at the same time save slavery, I do not agree with them. If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could at the same time destroy slavery, I do not agree with them. My paramount objective in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it…what I. do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save this Union.
Negro: I say “Massa, who’s them soldiers” and he say “They’s Yanks comin to take you away from me” and I says “Looks to me, Massa, iffen they wants to take us, they’d ask you for us.” Master laughs and says, “Boy, them fellas don’t axes with words…they does all they talkin’ with cannons.”
Black: On the first day of January in the year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty three, all persons held as slaves within any state or designated part of state…shall be thenceforth and forever free. Upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgement of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God.
Street corner speech, January 1st
Negro: Once was the time that I cried all night What’s the matter? Matter enough. The next morning my child to be sold and she was sold, and I never ‘spect to see her no more till the day of judgment. Now…no more that! No more that! With my hands against my breasts I was goin’ to my work, the overseer whuppin’ me along. Now…no more that! No more that! We are free now! Bless the Lord! Nor more that!
Letter from the front, 1863
Blue: Dear Father,
You see my paper don’t have the regular pictures of soldier sin file or in battle array…I am tired of such flummery. The meaning of the whole thing is to make money for the inventors and not for the soldiers. We are told that the life of the nation is at stake and that every fellow that enlists offers himself as a martyr to save his country. I was thinking those things over last about 2 A.M. in the morning when I was nearly froze.
Gettysburg, Virginia
Blue: Pickett’s Charge: Under Lee, General George Pickett marched 15,000 men across nearly a mile of open ground, the blue flag of Virginia floating ahead. Marching smoothly and steadily, almost as if on a drill ground.
Diary from Gettysburg
Gray: We rise to our feet…some are actually fainting from the heat and dread…onward — steady-dress to the right…how gentle the slope — keep well in line — there is the line of guns we must take — right in front — but how far they appear! Now truly does the work of death begin. The line becomes unsteady because at every step a gap must be closed…close up the ranks when a friend falls! while his life blood bespatters your cheek…still we press on — oh, how long it seems…our men are falling faster now…volley after volley of crashing musket balls mow us down like wheat before the scythe…thirty more yards to the guns!
Blue: Perhaps half who started reached Union lines, where these were taken or finished in hand-to-hand combat. At Gettysburg the Union lost 23,000; the Confederates, 28,000.
Gray: …no word of command could be heard, and little could be seen but long lines of flame, and smoke, and struggling masses of men…
Black: Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great Civil War, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this…
Chicago Times
Blue: The introduction of dawdleism in a funeral sermon is an innovation upon the established conventions which, a year or two ago, would have been regarded with scorn. Common sense, then, should have taught Lincoln that its intrusion upon such an occasion as Gettysburg was an offensive exhibition of boorishness and vulgarity.
From Sherman’s memoirs:
Blue: In the beginning of the war I, too, had the old West Point notion that pillage was a capital crime. But this is a one-sided game of war and many of us — kind-hearted, fair, just, and manly — ceased to quarrel with our own men about such minor things, and went in to subdue the enemy, leaving minor depredations to be charged up to the account of the Rebels who had forced us into the war and who deserved all they got and more.
Gray: War is a dreadful thing. It is really shocking to be on the battlefield and see the poor suffering human beings gasping in the agony of death…to see thousands lying upon the field…some dead…others wounded…and to hear the cries of the wounded for help. Then to glance at their wounds as you pass along…some with an arm, leg or even their nose or under-jaw shot off…Oh, it is revolting to humanity!
April 3, 1865
Black: This morning, General Grant reports Petersburg evacuated and he is confident Richmond also is. He is pushing forward, to shut off, if possible, the retreating army. I start to him in a few minutes.
Blue: As I was standing upon the bank of the river, viewing the scene of desolation, a boat pulled by twelve sailors came upstream. It contained President Lincoln. Somehow the Negroes on the bank ascertained that the tall man wearing a black hat was President Lincoln. As he approached, I said to a colored woman “There is the man who made you free”… “What, massa?” “That is President Lincoln”… “Dat President Linkum?” … “Yes”… she gazed at him a moment, clapped her hands and jumped straight up and down shouting “Glory, glory, glory” till her voice was lost in the universal cheer.
Negro: At Appomattox Village, Lee, tall and erect at 58, met Grant, short and stoop-shouldered at 42 and in a rough, worn and dusty blouse, met to negotiate the surrender of Lee’s army. Grant had never been a Republican, had not voted for Lincoln until ’64, never travelled with the Abolitionists…Lee had never advised the secession of Virginia, had never been a slaveholder except by inheritance and had sold his slaves, had never given to the Confederacy his first and deepest loyalty which, for him, belonged to Virginia…both saw slavery as a canker…neither cared for war as a game…
Black: The war is over. The rebels are our countrymen again.
Horace Greeley for the New York Tribune,
April 19, 1865:
Blue: Without the least desire to join in the race of heaping extravagant and preposterous laudations on our dead President as the wisest and greatest man who ever lives, we feel sure that the discerning and considerate of all parties will concur in our judgment that Mr. Lincoln’s reputation will stand higher with posterity than the mass of his contemporaries…that distance, whether in time or space, while dwarfing and obscuring so many, must place him in a fairer light…that future generations will deem shim undervalues by those for whom he labored, and be puzzled by the bitter fierceness of the personal assaults by which his temper was tested. And at Gettysburg National Cemetery, where Edward Everett made an elaborate oration, and other spoke fitly and well, the only address which the world will remember was that of the President who simply said…
Black: …The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they how fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain…that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
This was originally published in the March 16, 1962 issue of PAW.
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