Thought for the day: I was in the first submarine. Instead of a periscope, they had a kaleidoscope. 'We're surrounded!' [Steven Wright]
Yep. A submarine. That's what I'm sitting inside of in that photo. (Way to go, Ian!) Not the FIRST submarine, mind you, which was built way back in 1620 by a Dutch engineer named Cornelius Jacobszoon Dribbel, but it IS an accurately-sized cross section of a mock-up of the first submarine that successfully sunk a ship. And that occurred during the Civil War.
Kind of a tight squeeze, huh? That crank in my hand? Believe it or not, that's how the crew members propelled the sub.
Have you ever been inside of a submarine? A modern one, I mean. The quarters are tight enough to drive a claustrophobic person insane. The very idea of being sealed up in a vessel while UNDER the water has always given me the creeps. (I can't hold my breath very long, for one thing...) Even so, the history of submarines is a fascinating topic. If you have any interest in the role of subs during the Cold War, I highly recommend the book Blind Man's Bluff by Sherry Sontag and Christopher Drew. It contains a lot of declassified information about submarine espionage, and some of the stories about things submariners endured while UNDER the water more than justifies my trepidation.
Okay! Back on topic... back to the Civil War submarine. The size of that tiny vessel takes tight squeeze to a whole new level. It's forty feet long, and as illustrated in this pic, only four feet tall and 42" wide. And in that small area were eight hunched-over hand-cranking crew members! Wait... that's not entirely true. Only seven were actually cranking. The commander, Lt. George Dickens, who was over six feet tall, was situated in the front of the sub... the eyes of the mission, so to speak.
A picture showing a size comparison. The Housatonic, part of the embargo preventing goods from getting into Charleston, was selected as a target primarily because its hull was constructed of wood. In spite of the odds against the little sub, the mission was a success, and the much larger ship sunk in approximately five minutes.
But the Hunley... never returned to shore.
Its location remained a mystery until 1995, when a team of divers found it. Five years later, it was oh-so carefully raised from its watery grave, and it's been undergoing a meticulous restoration ever since. Smarticus and I have seen a number of documentaries about the sub's recovery and restoration progress, so it was an absolute thrill to visit the Hunley Lab and see this piece of history in person.
A visual of how the Hunley's hull has been revealed during restoration. When the vessel was first brought up, it was filled with silt and sediment, and the exterior was entirely crusted over. The tools the scientists are using for this work are about the size of dental instruments, so as you can imagine, the work is very slow and tedious.
Many personal effects were removed from the interior, and the restoration process on them has been phenomenal. Items buried in muck and silt for nearly 150 years have been restored to almost like-new stature.
Just look at these things! That pocket knife is beautiful, isn't it? There's a very cool story about the gold coin. It belonged to Lt. Dixon, and was given to him by his sweetheart as a good luck charm. See how bent it is? It was in his pocket during the Battle of Shiloh, and was struck by a mini-ball... likely saving his life. It was recovered with his remains. A candle was also recovered... along with the match that was probably used to light it.
Forensic scientists built models of each crew member's face, and they were able to determine each man's approximate height. Through DNA testing, the remains regained their rightful names, and they were all laid to rest at the Magnolia Cemetery in Charleston in 2004.
Today, the Hunley rests in a huge tank of water mixed with NaOH. Sorry I couldn't get a very good pic of it for you, but I'll share a short video that can tell... and show... you a lot more about this sub's story and recovery.
Of all the branches of men in the forces, there is none which shows more devotion and faces grimmer perils than the submariners. [Winston Churchill]
And that's as true now as it was one hundred and fifty years ago.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Thought for the day: A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. [John A. Shedd]
The U.S.S. Yorktown has an illustrious history. Commissioned in 1943, she initially saw service in World War II, and was later modified to handle jet planes, and then was converted to be an antisubmarine carrier.
Now? Alas, now her active days are behind her, and she remains in dock as a mighty museum ship. Not what she was built for, but she fills her retirement role quite admirably.
Like ships, WE weren't built to stay in the safety of the harbor all the time, either. I must confess, the older I get, the more content I am to simply hunker down in the comfort of our own home with Smarticus. Yeah, I know. We're getting to be old poops. But that doesn't mean we don't still love adventure... it's just more difficult to pry us out of the house nowadays. Which made our 50th anniversary trip to Charleston all that more enjoyable.
This is a 1969 honeymoon pic of me at Appomattox Courthouse, where General Robert E. Lee signed the papers of surrender, which effectively ended the Civil War.
That wasn't the only Civil War... or other historical site... we visited on our honeymoon, and we've gone to many many more over the past fifty years. Not because we romanticize war or long for the past, but because there's something sacred about stepping on old battlefields, and in general, there's something humbling and edifying about studying the past, whether by visiting actual sites or by haunting museums. Both activities stoke our imaginations and instill a grateful appreciation for and better understanding of those who have come before us.
You could say that learning about history is like crossing an invisible bridge into the past, and when we make that crossing, it gives us a better perspective on the events happening in the world today.
The bridge in this picture? If it has a name, I don't know what it is, but it's strikingly beautiful, and believe it or not, a guide on the tour boat said it was completed ahead of schedule and under budget. (That it itself is worthy of an historical plaque!)
This is the tour boat, which we boarded at Patriot's Point, where the U.S.S. Yorktown is berthed. From there, we took a warm and breezy ride to the remains of Ft. Sumter, where the first shots of the Civil War were fired. Kinda cool, isn't it? On our honeymoon, we visited the place where the war ended, and this time around, we saw where it all began.
Approaching Fort Sumter, which lies about a mile offshore from Charleston. It was one of many forts built by the federal government to protect the eastern coastline after the War of 1812.
Once docked, we crossed this long pier to get to the fort, where we had a full hour to explore as we saw fit. That might seem like a long time, but it wasn't nearly enough. There's a terrific museum housed within the fort, and that alone was worthy of a longer visit.
There was no smoking on the boat or in the fort, so Smarticus stopped to grab a quick nicotine fix before we strolled across the pier. That meant we had the pier pretty much to ourselves. What a view! And the weather was absolutely marvelous, too. Lots of sunshine, and a brisk breeze, as you can tell by the flag in the background.
Now part of the National Park System, Ft. Sumter is but a remnant of its former self. Originally three stories tall, much of it was destroyed during the war, and very little of the upper levels are still intact. When Major Robert Anderson moved his 85-man garrison into the fort on the day after Christmas in 1860, the fort wasn't even completed yet. Just six days earlier, a special South Carolina convention had voted to secede from the union, so the arrival of federal troops wasn't met with joy. One of Anderson's former students at West Point, Brig. General Pierre Beauregard, was in command of the Confederate forces in Charleston. As little stomach as he had for firing on his former mentor and friend, it was his mission to evict the federal forces from the fort. Alas, mere talk and saber rattling didn't work, so in the early hours of April 12, the first shots were fired on Fr. Sumter. Two days later, the Union forces retreated and the Confederates took over the fort.
Some of the crumbling ruins. (But at least she's still wearing a smile...)
We chose not to tour the Yorktown. We already knew, benefit of our earlier tour of the U.S.S. Alabama, just how many narrow ladder-like STEPS are involved in that kind of tour, and our knees weren't feeling up to the task. Too bad. There are lots of old planes on deck, and each of the hangars houses a unique museum... one for Medal of Honor winners, one for the Apollo 8 mission, and one for cold war submarines. Maybe next time. (Seeing's as how we're getting younger and all...) We did, however, walk through the Vietnam Experience. It was supposed to be included in the tour package for the Yorktown, another ship and a submarine, but when we asked if we could just buy a ticket for the Vietnam exhibit, the gal noticed the Vietnam Veteran hat Smarticus was wearing and told us we could go in for free. I thought the exhibit was pretty good, but Smarticus wasn't impressed, because there was absolutely nothing about the ground-pounding grunts who spent their time in the bush. Personally, I think that was for the best. I don't think most of us are prepared to get immersed in the kind of experiences he had. Just thinking about them is bad enough.
Just for fun, anybody have any idea what the heck I'm sitting inside in this picture? Any guesses?
Don't worry. I'll tell you all about it... next week.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Thought for the day: The greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart. [Robert Green Ingersoll]
It's an understatement to say some die-hard Southerners never lost heart over losing the Civil War... or the War of Yankee Aggression, as they prefer to call it. They stubbornly cling to remnants of the past, while biding their time, whistling Dixie, and waiting for the South to rise again. But you know what? There's still a place where the Confederacy never exactly fell.
Most people are aware of the Lost Colony of Roanoke, Virginia, but did you know there's also a Lost Colony of the Confederacy? A place where the old Confederacy is still celebrated, and many of its symbols continue to flourish? It's reeeeally in the deep south, Sooooo far south, it isn't even in North American. It's in... Brazil...
[image from widipedia]
Brazil's Emperor Dom Pedro II, as seen in this 1865 photo, was a staunch ally of the Confederacy, and after the Civil War, he offered subsidized passage to any Americans willing to emigrate to Brazil. That allowed this clever man to offer disgruntled Southerners an escape, while also enabling him to import some American prosperity. In what amounted to a voluntary exile, thousands of Confederates, who considered themselves war refugees, accepted the generous offer, and embraced Brazil's cheap land and legal slavery as an opportunity to recreate the way of life they'd enjoyed prior to the war.
Not all of the Southerners stayed, though. Some weren't too keen on Brazil's liberal race relations. Even though Brazil was the last country in the Americas to outlaw slavery, when the Deep South defectors arrived in Brazil after the war, they were shocked to find that blacks there had the right to vote, run for office, and hold positions of leadership over whites.
But those Southerners who DID stay... thrived. And continue to thrive today in the town of Americana, where residents celebrate the heritage of their ancestors by holding an annual festa, replete with rebel flags, Confederate uniforms, hoop skirts, fried chicken, and buttermilk biscuits.
Just as the Southern drawls eventually faded, those who continue to celebrate their ties to the Confederacy are generally unaware of any connections between the Old South and slavery. In a country in which 51% of the population identifies as either black or mixed race, there is no debate over the use of Confederate symbols. To these celebrant Brazilians, those symbols represent family, unity, fraternity, and friendship.
In a nod to the past, festival attendees sing and dance to music of the Old South.
Legal tender during the festival is, of course... the Confederate dollar.
The overall creed of these revelers? Heritage, not hate.
And their motto? To live and die in Dixie.
So although it may be far from U.S. soil, the American Confederacy lives on in Brazil, and probably will for many years to come. Why? Because those festivals also raise money to preserve the cemetery where many former Confederate soldiers and their families... the ancestors of these Brazilians... were laid to rest.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Thought for the day: It is well that war is so terrible, or we would grow too fond of it. [Robert E. Lee]
Because this year marks the 150th anniversary of Atlanta's invasion and occupation by Union troops during the Civil War, as well as Sherman's subsequent incendiary march through Georgia, this has been a summer of numerous living history-type re-enactments, one of which Smarticus and I visited last month.
The encampment of Union soldiers on the lawn of Barrington Hall in Roswell provided a fascinating glimpse into the past, and taught us something about the local happenings of those days, too. A re-enactment showed the notorious capture of some 400-500 cotton mill workers... mostly women and children... who were arrested, charged with treason, and deported to prison. On Sherman's orders, the mill was burnt to the ground.
This tent was furnished more elegantly than the others. See the dresses hanging in the rear? It seems this was the abode of one of the (ahem) camp followers. Oh, and in spite of what you may have heard, the term hooker wasn't derived from General Joe Hooker's well-known appreciation of... camp followers. The term actually preceded the Civil War.
Here we have a display of a typical Union soldier's possessions.
A makeshift table.
Healthcare left a lot to be desired 150 years ago.
More stomach-turning medical implements. Those jars on the bottom were for holding leeches, but that doesn't bother me nearly as much as those surgical tools on top.
A large building held many Civil War era items, including numerous photographs of the day. Although the required time of subject immobility had decreased dramatically since the days of the daguerreotype, it was still quite long by today's instant standards. This young lady apparently possessed a wealth of patience and poise.
This little girl, on the other hand, doesn't look at all pleased with the process.
Post-mortem photographs were quite common during the mid-1800s, especially following the death of a young child.
Most fashion-conscious ladies of the day had at least one set of hair combs, but fans weren't just a fashion statement. In the South, they helped ladies tolerate the brutal summer heat, and in the hands of some women, they also became effective instruments of flirtation.
Corsets created an hourglass figure. Women may not have been able to take a deep breath, but they looked terrific while they were swooning from lack of oxygen.
And one final picture... just because I like it. It reminds me of what a schoolmarm might wear to church.
And that's it. Whatever you may think about the sanity of modern-day fellas donning old scratchy woolen uniforms on a hot Georgia day, I'm glad those folks did it. Nothing reinforces the understanding of history quite as well as ... living it... or more accurately, re-enacting it.
In closing, I found an interesting poem online, which was allegedly written by a sentimental young lady from north Georgia to her Confederate soldier admirers:
'Tis hard for youens to sleep in camp; 'Tis hard for youens to fight; 'Tis hard for youens through snow to tramp, In snow to sleep at night. But harder for weans from youens to part, Since youens have stolen weans hearts.
Hmmm... admirers? Reckon she was a... camp follower?
There are places that need no historical marker because they are haunted, haunted by the spirits of men in blue and gray, now a part of the soil they fought over. If you stand quietly and listen, you can sense the clash of arms and see the skirmish, as if the gnarled old trees can't forget and whisper their story to your imagination... [Barry Etris]
NOTE: The picture in the header shows the front of Barrington Hall, which was built in 1842 in the Greek Revival style. At various times during the day, musicians played Civil War-era music on that porch, and at other times, dancers did their thing.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
