Gettysburg at 150

The Battle of Gettysburg was fought July 1-3, 1863. This year, therefore it saw its 150th anniversary. My oldest friend, Philip Marshall Cavanaugh—soldier, military museum director, Civil War reenactor, and weapons restorer (just to name some of his talents)—had attended the 100th reenactment in 1963, the 125th in 1988, and planned to attend the 150th as well. He had already made plans, shipped his uniforms and equipment to Gettysburg ahead—and then was hospitalized with intestinal problems just days before departure. Once he was well enough again, he sent me some updates—and having missed the event, sent me some pictures, one of himself in 1963 and one of this year’s reenactment sent him by some friends.

I present these here to remind us of how things once looked—not very long ago, when you think about it. Concerning the 2013 picture, below, I am quoting Phil’s own description taken from his letter.

The reenactors of the 14th Virginia are, I discovered, not all from the 14th Va but from a couple of other Va units that came together to form a company-sized unit for the event. The first sergeant is Brent Feito (whom I don’t know personally). The officer leading the group (with sword, black beard) one might call a Dean of Reenactors;  he is Robert Lee Hodge. Hodge was a major character in a book that appeared about twenty years ago entitled Confederates in the Attic; it describes a New York journalist’s journey through Virginia and his exposure to the reenacting community; it’s a fun read. The 14th Va served through the war from 1861 to Appomattox in 1865, they were at all the major battles. When I see the picture I think of the description of Lee’s army penned by a Pennsylvania woman in June 1863; the quote is not exact but very close. “They were the most ragged and dirty bunch of men I had ever seen, yet, there was an air about them, something in their step that was lacking in our northern men.”

The 14th Virginia was a regiment. Phil’s own long-standing regiment is the 21st Virginia—which had to give him medical furlough for this year’s event. There are many different ways to experience the Present. These photos illustrate one of the more novel ways to do so—every now and then.

Musical Memories—with Twist

Sometime a chance stimulus leads to a string of associations—and they produce new, and amusing, insights. Here is such a case. I am quoting here from a letter I received this morning from my old friend Philip Cavanaugh:

A couple of days ago I heard the recording “Goodnight Irene” on an internet music site. I remembered this silly song from my high school days and remembered that it had been composed and sung by Peter Seeger, my favorite American Communist. 

I met Seeger twice, once in 1965 when I was working at the New Windsor Cantonment in Newburgh, NY. You once visited there in our 1725 house; we drank a lot of Ballantine Ale that night. The museum hosted a group of Czech students and invited Pete Seeger to come over from Poughkeepsie to their campsite and sing. Seeger is a delightful and sharp guy. That was the first time I had heard the song “Die Moorsoldaten,” and he sang some of the songs of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade of Spanish Civil War-fame. I met him again a couple of years later aboard his reconstructed 19th century Hudson river schooner “The Clearwater”; he was then active in creating awareness of the terribly polluted Hudson river.

Anyway, after hearing his song I looked him up on Wikipedia, knowing he was in his 90’s and wanted to see if he is still around. He is, but while reading about his life I encountered the name “Hanns Eisler”; this jumped out at me, as this name appears on the dust jacket of a recording of the DDR national anthem I had bought in East Berlin in 1957. Reading further I found Eisler was indeed a Seeger friend. Eisler, Brecht, Kurt Weil were émigrés in the 1930’s who came to the US to get away from the Nazis. Eisler and Brecht ended up in Hollywood and Eisler composed music for American films during the war; in fact, he was nominated for an Oscar for his film score for “None but the Lonely Heart” starring Cary Grant. He had a bad time in the late 40’s and 50’s with the House Un-American Activities Committee and left the country, eventually ending up in East Berlin. He composed “Auferstanden aus Ruinen” [“Risen from the Ruins”] and it became the official East German anthem. He remained a staunch communist and defended not only the regime against the demonstrators of the 17th of June but also defended the construction of the Berlin Wall. So a one time American Oscar-nominated film music composer wrote the DDR’s Nationalhymne? Is that cool or what?
                      [Philip Marshall Cavanaugh, private communication]

The Model T

My oldest friend, Phil Cavanaugh, sent me these splendid images the other day:

Part of Phil’s letter said:

Back in 1968 I dragged a 1924 Model T Ford touring car out of a barn in Wallkill, NY. I spent the next year restoring it and have had it since. Over the next 43 years I’ve enjoyed many a tour driving it. I’ve always lusted after Ford cars of the late Model T era, thus the years 1926 and 1927, but these are hard to find and rarely in good shape. Finally I found one on eBay (where else) and bought it. I’ve since sold my 1924 to a guy in Tucson. The new car sat in a museum for five years and so is totally gummed up with gasoline; the gasoline has turned to varnish over time, and the car also has a few other problems associated with advanced age. It will go to College Station to an expert this weekend and, hopefully, it will soon be back and running again. I’m attaching photos both of the old car (black) and new one (green).

Phil spent his working life as a superintendent of military museums, an avocation born of his youthful fascination with history, especially that of the Civil War—but the impulse of preserving the authentic past extended forward in time enough to bring us these resplendent survivors of the Youth of the Automobile.

Thanks, Phil.

Friends from the 19th

Some of my best friends live in the nineteenth century—part time. Herewith a photograph from my oldest friend, Philip Marshall Cavanaugh. I am including his own captioning of this interesting photo.

Just found this picture; it must be about 18 years old (1992). This is my old Richmond reenactment group, F Co, 21st Va Regt. F Company had been part of the old, elite Richmond “First Regiment” of antebellum days. A Company was “The Richmond Light Infantry Blues,” and I believe you had to be a direct descendant of one of the early Jamestown settlers to belong—or be incredibly rich; almost all members became officers when the war began. F Co was the unit of the nouveau riche. F Co also had several Jewish members, which made it somewhat unacceptable in Richmond social circles. The unit went on all the way to Appomattox, where it gave up its flag with only sixteen of the original members present for duty.

We were a good unit and our drill and dress very Prussian. I am in the front row with light colored tan trousers; the man at far end of the row, distinguished by a beard and black hat, is John Dent Griffiths, a great-great-grandson of Ulysses S. Grant. Our commander in front, Floyd Bayne, ran against Eric Cantor this year as the Libertarian candidate for the Richmond area.

My Oldest Friend

My oldest friend, Philip Marshall Cavanaugh, sent this wonderful picture of himself the other day by way of marking his retirement from the commercial side of one of hobbies, the manufacturing and sale of Civil War era haversacks. Like me, Phil is still going, although he keeps going in the nineteenth century. We met in the Army. We became and remained close friends. Already then he was a walking encyclopedia of Civil War lore, and in the room we shared with several other men, we learned all about Robert E. Lee, Sherman, and the other stellar figures of that nation-defining event in American history—and also together listened to the great music of that era. Phil spent his post-military working life as a museum director at various distinguished establishments, ever deepening his understanding—while engaged as a member and participant in historical groups—not least an effective re-enactor of Civil War events. He appears here before us in the uniform of the Sons of Union Veterans—and signs himself as “Yer old buddy, Phil, sutler, retired.” Phil decided that it was time to draw back a little. He sold the splendid tent you see behind him—which occasioned this photograph.