Table
of Contents
Study
Areas:
Slavery
Anti-Slavery
Free
Persons of Color
Underground
Railroad
The
Violent Decade
US
Colored Troops
Civil
War
|
Chapter
Ten
The Bridge (continued)
12
June 1863: Blow Ye the Trumpet, Blow
Friday,
12 June 1863, the day that war came to Harrisburg, was by
all outward appearances a typical late spring day in the capital
city. Provisioner Benjamin Olewine had just brought a large lot of
freshly picked strawberries to town from his Susquehanna Township
farm. The luscious fruit, which was available at the lower market
house on the square, was a much anticipated harbinger of summer,
and those from truck farmer Olewine, who regularly won awards at
the State Agricultural Fairs, were deemed some of the best available.106
The
local chapter of the Young Men’s Christian Association decided
to take advantage of the onset of strawberry season by announcing that
it would hold a strawberry festival the following week to raise money
for the purchase of books for its library. The local newspaper lauded
the “novelty of the entertainment” and wished them success.
The chapter was in need of funds, its membership having been devastated
by enlistments. The dearth of dues paying members had not stopped it
from devoting considerable service to the soldiers in the hospitals
and camps around town, however, and many of the books to be purchased
would doubtless entertain a wounded soldier in the months ahead.107
Harrisburg
residents, however, were already planning other summer activities beyond
strawberry festivals. Independence Island, lying just north of Forster’s
Island in the Susquehanna River, had just opened for picnicking and
summer amusements. The proprietors, Becker and Folk, had built a large
dance pavilion in the center of the island, which also featured shady
picnic groves and sets of swings.
The
members of Hope Fire Company announced plans for a grand Fourth of
July picnic in Hoffman’s Woods, and invited “all ladies
and gentlemen of good moral character” to participate. It was
to be a good old-fashioned reunion picnic for the members of the fire
company, many of whom had been taken away by the war. As a special
treat, an actress depicting the Goddess of Liberty, fresh from a tour
of Europe, had been booked for the occasion.
Local
entertainments continued to attract audiences looking to while away
a mid-June evening at one of Harrisburg’s theaters. Shorey’s
New Orleans and Metropolitan Minstrel Band was appearing at Sanford’s
Opera House, on Third Street below Market. Sharing the bill were the
Star Sisters, Emma and Edith Whiting and Nelly Seymore, all for twenty-five
cents.
Stiff
competition was being offered by the Gaiety Music Hall, on Walnut Street,
which unblushingly billed itself as the “Best Place of Amusement
in the World,” and offered a variety show by the Challenge Performers,
including singers, jig dancers, and an Irish comedian. The show was
hosted by “the far famed Bob Edwards, the favorite original Jester
of Negro Comicalities,” and concluded with a farce comedy titled “The
Scene at Phalons, or The Barber Shop in Uproar.” Admission to
this “mammoth bill” of entertainments was only ten cents.
For
those who wanted something more topical, Brant’s Hall, on Market
Street, had brought in a traveling attraction called “The Southern
Refugee,” or “The Scout of the Shenandoah.” This
actor appeared in full Confederate military regalia to discuss the
Southern army, its generals, and army life. Accompanying him was a “Rebel
Museum,” containing “wonderful curiosities,” which
was included for the twenty-five cent admission price.
The
big entertainment news, however, was the announcement that virtuoso
pianist Louis Moreau Gottschalk would make a one-night appearance at
Brant’s Hall on Tuesday evening on his way to New York. This
highly popular entertainer, originally from New Orleans, had been the
toast of Europe in the 1850s and was now in the middle of an extensive
tour of the United States. Tickets for the 16 June concert could be
purchased at the music store of William Knoche, at 93 Market Street.108
Such
amusements made people forget, temporarily, the frightening rumors
of approaching Rebel invaders that had heated the local imagination
to a fever pitch of paranoia and fear only a day earlier. Everything
seemed much more calm on Friday, as local organizations returned to
their regular business: the Harrisburg Typographical Union, Chapter
Fourteen, scheduled a union meeting for Saturday evening at six-thirty
p.m.; the President of the Citizen’s Fire Company requested the
presence of all members at the company meeting on Saturday evening, “as
business of importance will be transacted,” and the Secretary
of the First Ward Democratic Club reminded all members and other interested
persons to attend a meeting on Friday evening at seven-thirty p.m.,
at Louis Koenig’s house on Paxton Street.
The
police resumed their business of enforcing the daily peace, which,
in the absence of doomsday predictions and to the delight of Harrisburgers
throughout the city, was unusually peaceful. The Patriot and Union remarked
that only “two arrests were made—not worth noticing.”109 By
nightfall, however, the precious peace would be woefully shattered
by an announcement from the Governor, and from the military men working
in the Capitol.
On
the second floor of the State Capitol, in a room that had been cleared
for use as a makeshift headquarters for the newly created Department
of the Susquehanna, Major General Darius N. Couch sorted through the
various reports that he had from his commanders in the field, and from
his superiors in Washington. It seemed evident to him, and to all in
the room, that Robert E. Lee was moving rapidly north with his considerable
army, and that the rumors of an impending invasion that shook Harrisburg
on Thursday were much closer to the truth than not. It was also clear
to him, and painfully so to Governor Andrew G. Curtin, that virtually
no battle-ready troops stood between the closing Southern troops and
the Pennsylvania heartland.
The
military draft was meeting with no success and recruitment for the
federally equipped and controlled three-year state regiments had slowed,
making it unlikely that Washington would allow Couch to draw troops
from that quarter. The War Department, in creating the Department of
the Susquehanna, had made provisions to recruit soldiers into a special
Pennsylvania state militia organization to be known as the Department
of the Susquehanna Volunteer Corps, but the pay limitations and uncertain
term of enlistment in that organization made if far less attractive
to potential recruits than the regular state units.110
Nevertheless,
on Friday the 12th, Couch pushed optimistically forward and issued “Department
of the Susquehanna, Orders Number 1,” announcing the formation
of the military department, and calling for “all able-bodied
volunteers between the ages of eighteen and sixty” to be enrolled
for duty. The orders acknowledged the “danger of invasion now
threatening the State of Pennsylvania,” and deemed it necessary:
To call upon the citizens
of Pennsylvania to furnish promptly all the men necessary to organize
an Army Corps of volunteer infantry, artillery and cavalry, to
be designated the Army Corps of the Susquehanna.—They will
be enrolled and organized in accordance with the regulations of
the United States service, for the protection and defence of the
public and private property within this department, and will be
mustered into the service of the United States to serve during
the pleasure of the President or the continuance of the war…
They will be armed,
uniformed, equipped, and while in active service, subsisted and
supplied as other troops of the United States.—When not required
for active service to defend the department, they will be returned
to their homes, subject to the call of the Commanding General.
Cavalry volunteers may furnish their own horses, to be turned over
to the United States at their appraised value…
The volunteers for
State defence will receive no bounty, but will be paid the same
as like service in the army of the United States for the time they
may be in actual service as soon as Congress may make an appropriation
for that purpose.111
Governor Curtin,
at the same time, issued a proclamation to bolster what he knew would
be an unpopular attempt to form a defense force. Beginning with the
alarming confirmation “that a large Rebel force, composed of
cavalry, artillery and mounted infantry, has been prepared for the
purpose of making a raid into Pennsylvania,” the leader of the
Keystone State made an urgent appeal to residents’ patriotism.
Curtin proclaimed “I know too well the gallantry and patriotism
of the freemen of this Commonwealth to think it necessary to do more
than commend this measure to the people, and earnestly urge them to
respond to the call of the General Government and promptly fill the
ranks of these corps, the duties of which will be mainly the defence
of our own homes, firesides and property from devastation.”112
Neither Couch’s
Orders No. 1, nor the Governor’s Proclamation were seen by Harrisburg
residents until late in the day on Friday, and many residents were
not aware of the seriousness of the situation until the items were
published in the local newspapers on Saturday the 13th. Suddenly, the
ghost of Stonewall Jackson was indeed on the march again, terrorizing
Harrisburg’s gentry.
Previous |
Next
Notes
106. “Strawberries,” Evening
Telegraph, 13 June 1863; Transactions of the Pennsylvania
State Agricultural Society, vol. 2, 139.
107. “Strawberry
Festival,” Patriot and Union, 13 June 1863; Hubert Clark
Eicher, A Century of Service, 1854-1954: The Harrisburg Young Men’s
Christian Association (Harrisburg: Evangelical Press, 1955), 45-56,
246-247.
108. Patriot
and Union, 12 June 1863; Evening Telegraph, 13 June
1863.
109. “Local
News,” Patriot and Union, June 13, 1863.
110. Nye, Here
Come the Rebels!, 151-152.
111. “Department
of the Susquehanna, Orders No. 1,” Evening Telegraph,
13 June 1863.
112. “A
Proclamation,” Evening Telegraph, 13 June 1863.
|