New Yorker in Confederate Gray:

Pvt. Edgar Baker,

21st Mississippi


Published in

46 VOL. 34 NO. 6 2010 NORTH SOUTH TRADER'S CIVIL WAR

My journey to unmask details surrounding the short and unusual life of Edgar Baker has been an emotional one. Baker was born in the county of my birth, 

and I have personally visited the dwellings that were vital to this warrior. One offered him shelter at birth; the other was a silent witness to his death.

by Seward R. Osborne


Samuel Crawford barn, Gettysburg, PA, where Pvt. Edgar Baker breathed his last. Photo by author.

The year 1832 was not an especially favorable one for upstate New York. In this mountainous region of the Catskills, winter months can be quite severe,
with copious amounts of snow and temperatures well below zero. Into this season crept a deadly intruder, the ravaging disease known as cholera. Even the
great Atlantic could not abate the progression of this killer. It is suggested that it first appeared in Canada, brought to that country by Irish immigrants. It rapidly spread through the Champlain and into the Hudson Valley. By mid-June it was just north of Albany. As one New York citizen phrased it, “To see individuals well in the morning & dead in the morning is something which is appalling to the boldest heart.”

South of Albany, in the quarantined Greene County town of Greenville on November 24, 1832, Luman and Hannah Baker heard the cries of their first child, Edgar Gideon Baker. As a farmer with 229 acres, Luman was no doubt pleased to have a son who could assist with chores when he came of sufficient age. In the decade after Edgar’s birth, three girls were added to the growing Baker family. The siblings became playmates for their brother and no doubt received a good share of teasing as well.

Edgar’s primary education was acquired in the home and at the nearest public school. Judging from a future occupation, he did quite well with his studies. When the 1855 New York census was taken for the town of Greenville on June 14th, young Baker, who was residing with his family, was listed as a farmer.

According to oral family tradition, Edgar Baker had a traveling bone and an adventurous spirit. He left the familiar area of his upbringing sometime during 1856 and headed south. Little did he know that he would never see home or family again.

It appears that by 1860 Edgar had made his way to San Francisco, California, where he worked as a newspaper carrier. When the Civil War erupted, Baker was a school teacher on a plantation in Woodville, Wilkinson County, Mississippi. What led him to travel to this southern county near the Louisiana border is unknown, but it seems that such intrepidity continued to propel him on a life-altering sojourn.

On November 16, 1861, eight days before his 29th birthday, the New Yorker enlisted as a private in company E, 21st Mississippi Volunteer Infantry. This unit was recruited in Wilkinson County and known as the Hurricane Rifles. Baker signed up for the duration of the war, and the question that begs to be answered is why? Had he resided in Mississippi long enough to establish close friendships and strong Southern sympathies? Was Baker coerced or impressed into service? Unfortunately, there is no definitive answer. Pvt. Baker’s military service file shows that he was “absent sick or wounded” from May through part of December 1862. Returning to duty with his company on December 16th, Edgar’s first engagement was on May 3-4, 1863, at Fredericksburg. One wonders what emotions coursed through Edgar as he fought soldiers from the North.

By the following summer, time was rapidly running out for Edgar G. Baker.

It was a typically hot July in Adams County, Pennsylvania. During the morning and afternoon hours of the 2nd, elements of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia were on the move. As part of Gen. William Barksdale’s Mississippi Brigade, the 21st Mississippi maneuvered into position in the woods
along the southern portion of Seminary Ridge facing east.

The minutes were tense as Rebel forces withstood Yankee cannon being fired at them from the Emmitsburg Road and the high ground beyond in John Sherfy’s peach orchard. Some of the shells whistled or burst overhead, breaking off tree branches, while others came crashing into the ranks, killing and maiming.

There was a large, open field in front of Pvt. Baker and his comrades in the Hurricane Rifles. It was an ominous feature of the terrain, and they realized it would have to be traversed in the coming attack. The sulphurous air was nearly palpable as the Mississippians awaited the command that would be the death knell for many. Soon enough came that clarion order, and the high-pitched Rebel yell was heard as the Southern advance began.

The assault by Barksdale’s soldiers on July 2, 1863, was undeniably one of the greatest in the annals of American military history. With great zeal, they swept through the blue-coated artillery and infantry soldiers in their front. If Pvt. Baker made it safely to the peach trees, he was likely unaware that a most peculiar incident of history had occured.

About 1,200' north of the orchard were posted the vaunted soldiers of the 120th New York Volunteer Infantry, part of Gen. Sickles’ 3rd Corps. On the left flank, south  of the Klingle farm was the regiment’s Company K. This was a Greene County company and was commanded by Capt. Ayers G. Barker. In fact, Barker had been born in Greenville and probably went to school with Edgar.

Captain Ayers G. Barker, Company K, 120th New York
Volunteer Infantry. He was killed in action on July 2, 1863, the same day
that Pvt. Edgar Baker was mortally wounded while fighting on the opposite
side. The two were likely schooled together in Greene County.  Seward R.
Osborne collection.
 

But playtime had vanished years ago, and now both sides were locked in deadly combat. Pvt. Eseck Wilber, 120th New York recalled:

My comrades were falling on every side of me and I expected every minute that it would be my turn next. Captain Barker fell, shot dead instantly, the ball went through his head just back of his ears, right through his brain. I saw him fall, he never groaned at all. He had his sword raised over his head giving us orders. Says he, “take it cool boys, listen to the command and every man stand to his post.” With these words he fell to the ground, a corpse. I looked at him a moment and then went away, the Rebels were driving us at this time.

Elsewhere on that sanguinary field, Pvt. Edgar Baker  also fell as a missile gouged its way through his chest. He was taken to the John S. Crawford farm along Marsh Creek. The doctor in charge of the wounded was Surgeon Francis William Patterson, 17th Mississippi.

Surgeon Francis William Patterson, 17th Mississippi Volunteer
Infantry. If Baker was operated on for his wound, it likely would have been
by Patterson. Like Baker, Patterson was of northern birth, having been born
in Connecticut in 1835. By 1860 Patterson had relocated to Jackson,
Mississippi, where he was an assistant physician at the Lunatic State
Asylum. Photo courtesy, Mr. Loring Shultz.

Patterson was aided by Asst. Surgeon Robert L. Knox of Tennessee and the 17th’s Chaplain William Burton Owen. When the Confederate army retreated from Gettysburg, these men stood to their tasks and became prisoners. If Baker was operated on, it would have been done by Patterson in Crawford’s house. Most assuredly he died in the barn, which still stands not far from placid Marsh Creek. It is a somewhat eerie, quiet place that belies the suffering and death that occurred there ages hence.

In a July 24, 1863, letter from Chaplain Owen to Edgar’s father, he wrote,

Part of the letter written at Gettysburg by Chaplain
William Burton Owen, sent to Private Edgar Baker's father Luman.
Courtesy Greene County Historical Society.

“Your son Edgar G. Baker, Co. E, 21st Mississippi Regt., Barksdale’s Brigade, McLaws’ Division, was wounded through the lungs on the 2nd of July, and died July 11th.”

The chaplain continued:

I was with him much, after he was wounded, and conversed freely with him in regard to the future, and I believe he is gone to rest. One of the evidences of his having been converted to my mind was this, that he desired to live that he might glorify God by doing good, and another was his sorrow for having done wrong. He spoke of having probably ridiculed his sisters on account of their religion, and was very sorry that he ever did it.

The chaplain assured the dying soldier that they would forgive him and “he seemed satisfied for he mentioned it no more.”

Owen’s letter continued:

The death of your son will be sad news to you and your family, but I trust our Blessed Redeemer will give you all grace for this sad bereavement and bring you all at last to the enjoyment of the Saints Everlasting Rest in Heaven... Edgar is buried in Mr. Crawford’s garden (or rather in the tenants’ garden, at our Hospital) and his head board will be plainly marked so that if you wish to remove his body you can do so. Please let me hear from you immediately.

Area near Samuel Crawford's farmhouse where the garden was likely
located. Pvt. Edgar Baker would been buried very near this location.
   Photo courtesy Jean Osborne, from Seward R. Osborne collection.

Whether Luman Baker ever wrote back to the reverend is not known. Oral family history has it that Luman recovered his son’s remains and brought them home for local burial in the Baker family plot. In fact, there is a broken gravestone in Grapeville Cemetery in Greenville plainly marked “Edgar G. Baker.” And so it would appear that Edgar came home to eternal rest with his kin.

Broken gravestone[memorial stone], Grapeville Cemetery,
Greene County, NY, in the Baker family plot. It bears the name of Edgar
Baker, however research revealed he is actually interred in southern soil!

But, in fact, he did not. Pvt. Edgar Baker reposed in the Gettysburg countryside for nine years, and when removed from there, his remains went south, not north.

Surprisingly, it was not southerners who first expressed interest in having Confederates buried in Gettysburg brought home. Seven months after the
titanic struggle, the Adams [County] Sentinel of February 2, 1864, expressed a plea for “our common humanity.” The proposal was to locate a more desirous place for the honored dead who were “promiscuously” interred in and around the battlefield. Heavy rains had exposed skeletal remains, and land cultivation threatened to eradicate all traces of the graves. It was urged that a congenial location be secured so that after the scourge of war had passed, family and friends could visit a dignified final resting place of their loved ones.

On the evening of May 3, 1866, in Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church in Richmond, Virginia, local women assembled and inaugurated the Hollywood Memorial Association of the Ladies of Richmond. Their immediate objective was to seek donations to "redesign and improve" the overall appearance of Hollywood Cemetery. Many Confederate soldiers were buried there, so respect and tribute was considered paramount.

By 1870 there was a movement toward having Confederate soldiers buried in northern soil brought home. Samuel Weaver of Gettysburg was contacted, as he had supervised the removal of Federal dead and had made copious notes as to where many Confederates were interred as well. But Sam passed away in 1871 before he could inaugurate this task. His son Rufus, who had likely assisted his father in relocating Union soldiers, was contacted. Because he had recently completed his medical education at Pennsylvania Medical College and was eager to take a teaching position, Rufus initially showed little interest in what he knew would be a laborious, time-consuming venture. Even so, he assented.

Doctor Rufus Benjamin Weaver of Gettysburg, the man who disinterred the
remains of Pvt. Edgar Baker from his temporary resting place on the Crawford
Farm and shipped them to Richmond, Virginia.

On November 8, 1871, Dr. Weaver was advised by the Hollywood Association that they were “now ready to enter into arrangements & make contracts for the removal of Virginia’s soldiers from Gettysburg to Richmond.” It is said that God works in mysterious ways, and so He does. A change of heart evidently took place among the Richmond ladies, who realized that their stipulation of the relocation of only Virginia men was too narrow in scope. The final agreement included the removal of all Confederate bodies still remaining at Gettysburg.

On February 7, 1872, Weaver sent to Richmond a list of over 400 names of identified Confederates. He also made it clear that these remains were just a small percentage of the total who rested in Adams County. He further enumerated the cost “to disinter, box, and ship” the bodies to be $3.25 each.

On April 19, 1872, Dr. Weaver’s herculean task began. It was not uncommon for the 31-one-year-old, 5' 3" doctor, to labor 18 to 20 hours per day. He carefully packed the remains in boxes and at night meticulously labeled the “precious freight” and completed the day’s records.

Once a grave was opened, he removed every fragment of bone himself. It was his opinion that in order to do a thorough disinterment, only a person such as himself, with a complete understanding of the human anatomy, could “properly and completely” abstract the “important and sacred” parts of each corpse. Nearly 3,000 dead at Gettysburg were sent to Hollywood Cemetery in six shipments, the first of which was on June 13, 1872. Every box within a shipment was marked with a letter from the alphabet.

By 1873 Weaver and his assistants were basically working the periphery of the battlefield. On an early spring day in May, Dr. Weaver and his workers made their way by horse and wagon southwest along Fairfield Road. About four miles from Gettysburg and not far from Black Horse Tavern, they turned left onto “Mr. Crawford’s, Walnut Avenue.”

It was along this very road in an earlier exhumation that Weaver had discovered the marked remains of Col. James W. Carter, 13th Mississippi Infantry. Not far away lay Pvt. Radford G. Gunn, Company A, 17th Mississippi. On a “silver plate” still attached to his headboard was the epitaph “Oh God preserve his body for his friends.”

Traveling parallel with Marsh Creek for about one mile on this dirt road, they came to the farmhouse of John Crawford. This dwelling sits on high ground on the left side of the road overlooking the creek. The commodious barn is located about 100 yards northeast of the main dwelling.

During and after the battle, this area had been a large Confederate hospital for Barksdale’s Brigade of Mississippians. Here were discovered 22 burials in the garden near the house. Nine burials were still marked, one being the remains of “E.G. Baker.” The nine identified remains were placed in one box and the 13 unidentified in another. Both boxes were marked with the letter Y. The fact that there were only two boxes labeled Y will become acutely important later.

Copy of partial page from Dr. Weaver's original records regarding graves he
disinterred at Gettysburg. This shows "E. G. Baker." The full name, company,
and regiment was added by the author. Note box signified only with the
letter "Y".
   Courtesy Gettysburg National Military Park.

For this study we will concentrate on Dr. Weaver’s fourth shipment, as that was where the remains of Edgar Gideon Baker were consigned. Weaver’s original records state under the heading of the fourth shipment: “List of Confederate Dead Exhumed on Battlefield at Gettysburg Pa and shipped to H[ollywood] M[emorial] A[ssociation] Richmond Va May 17th 1873.” He then broke down the cargo into four columns:

1. “number of boxes,”
2. “initial letter” (on box),
3. “n[umber] of remains” (total), and
4. “locality of burial.”

We can therefore follow Baker’s remains, as Weaver wrote that there were two boxes marked with the letter Y, totaling 22 bodies located and removed from “Mr Crawford’s garden—4 miles S[outh] W[est] of G[ettysbur]g —by Marsh Creek.”

On May 17, 1877, Rufus Weaver accompanied 35 boxes containing the remains of 333 Southern soldiers as they were transported by wagons to the Carlisle Street depot of the Hanover Junction, Hanover & Gettysburg Railroad. One of the wooden cases marked Y was occupied by Edgar and it, along with the other 34, was carefully placed on a railroad car to embark on the final journey. As the large bell pealed in the depot’s cupola, the train slowly made its way along the rails.

When Dr. Weaver left the station to continue his recovery of Confederate dead, he was unaware that the Hollywood Memorial Association had run out of money. This unfortunate situation had several repercussions. The first was that Weaver never received full compensation for his arduous and compassionate labor. The second had greater and more enduring ramifications.

Box cars swayed and moaned along the tracks as the train passed Hanover Junction and other points east toward Baltimore. Arriving there on May 20th, the “35 cases of remains” were transferred to a steamboat owned by the Powhatan Steamboat Company, anchored at Light Street Wharf. Navigating down the Chesapeake Bay, then up the James River to Rockett’s Landing, the ship arrived on the 21st. The Richmond Daily Dispatch announced the expected shipment plus a list of “the names of those known.” Among them was “E. J.[G.] Baker, Miss.” For the time being, the boxes were stored in the depot of the Richmond, York River & Chesapeake Railroad Company.

A vintage view of Rockett's Landing, Richmond, Virginia. The remains of Pvt.
Edgar Baker were placed in a building here prior to final burial in
Hollywood Cemetery.

Part of the Richmond Daily Dispatch dated May 21, 1873, showing among the Confederate remains one “E. J.[G] Baker” of the 17th Mississippi. Courtesy Museum of the Confederacy, Richmond, Virginia.

Part of the Richmond Daily Dispatch dated May 21, 1873, showing among the
Confederate remains, one "E. J.[G] Baker" of the 17th Mississippi.
   Courtesy Museum of the Confederacy, Richmond, Virginia.

Around three o’clock on May 29th, the Richmond Grays “proceeded to Rocketts to act as escort to the remains.” The boxes containing the dead were placed on a number of wagons and each “was draped in mourning, and was guarded by two soldiers, one on either side of the wagon.” Their movements were slow and solemn. Nearly every building along the route was appropriately festooned, and on some of the store doors a “plain white card” could be seen with the inscription “Closed in respect to the Gettysburg dead.”

As the retinue neared the 1st Regiment of Virginia Volunteers, Col. John Sloan commanded his soldiers to present arms. The regimental band and drum corps commenced a mournful dirge. “An immense concourse” of people had gathered and throngs were on sidewalks, in doorways, or looking out windows as a canopy of silence enfolded the procession. Widows and orphans, in an attempt to conceal their emotions, “turned sadly away from gazing upon the impressive scene.” 

The long, deliberate line moved up Main to Fifth Street, then onto Franklin to Cherry, through Sidney and into Hollywood Cemetery. As “Gettysburg Hill” was reached, the wagons stopped. The boxes containing the remains were carefully removed and reverently placed upon the Virginia soil.

A carriage in which Rev. Moses Drury Hoge, pastor of Richmond’s Second Presbyterian Church, was seated moved between the 1st Virginia Regiment and the soldiers’ remains. When about center, Rev. Hoge stood and offered a most “impressive and eloquent prayer.” The popular and celebrated minister beseeched “God, most high and holy,” imploring Him for support, comfort and “sanctifying grace.” He added:

We enshrine them in our hearts. And we thank Thee for the gentle and loving care which has gathered the remains of so many of them from the distant fields on which they fell, that henceforth they may rest among their former comrades in arms.

In conclusion, the minister asked for “a Father’s benediction to the silent, solemn multitudes now thronging this hallowed place” as “all that is mortal of our sons and brothers” were committed “to their mother earth.”

The Richmond Howitzers maneuvered their guns into position and fired a salute. As the echoes faded into silence, the crowd dissipated. Darkness and shadows reclaimed the bivouac of the dead.

As previously mentioned, the lack of sufficient funds in the Hollywood Memorial Association’s coffers led to a number of problems. The agreement between the Richmond ladies and Dr. Weaver, although not officially written, was still a moral, binding commitment that was abrogated when the flow of money stopped. But from a broader historical perspective, a far more egregious development arose—one that could never be expunged.

Map of Confederate burials in Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia.
   Courtesy Museum of the Confederacy, Richmond, Virginia.

According to the Daily Dispatch of May 21, 1873, of  the 333 Confederate soldiers in shipment four, 64 were partially or wholly identified. However, due to lack of funding, individually marked graves were not an option and Gettysburg Hill became a mass burial site.  

The meticulous records of named Confederate dead so carefully recorded by Dr. Weaver were obliterated, and the known dead became unknown dead. Their names were replaced with numbers, letters, and states, plotted on a foursection map of the cemetery.

How heartbreaking that loved ones could never visit the exact resting place of their kin.

My search for the remains of Pvt. Baker was not the only case in which I saw the tragedy of this outcome.  Another is the sad journey of Col. William Calvin Oates of the storied 15th Alabama Infantry. At Gettysburg on July 2, 1863, the 15th Alabama and 20th Maine were locked in deadly combat for control of the boulder-strewn ground at the southern terminus of Little Round Top. The assaults of the Alabamians were tenacious, but the resolve of the Maine soldiers was steadfast.

Among the Rebel casualties was Col. Oates’ younger brother, Lt. John Oates of Company G, 15th Alabama. He had suffered seven bullet wounds before a comrade pulled his heavily bleeding body to safety behind a boulder.

Amid the choking, acrid clouds of smoke and the din of battle, Col. Oates had his hands full. Then came the thundering counterattack of the 20th Maine. With bayonets fixed, the Federals swept down the slope as the Confederates “broke in unruly flight” toward the summit of Big Round Top. As Col. Oates himself reported, “We ran like a herd of wild cattle.”

Lt. Oates was left where he lay. There was neither time nor opportunity to extract him, and his brother William agonized over the unbearable, powerless situation. Although the colonel did not know it until decades later, his younger brother had been taken by Union hands to the Michael Fiscel farm, which was a Federal hospital for the 5th Army Corps. There John Oates breathed his last and was buried.

In 1909 William learned of Dr. Weaver’s exhaustive efforts to exhume Southern dead from the Gettysburg battlefield. He corresponded with Weaver, telling him of his quest to locate his brother John’s remains. Weaver responded: “It affords me great pleasure to reply that my records of the removal of the remains of the Confederate dead show that, on Sept. 10th 1872, the remains of Lt. J.A. Oat[e]s, 15th Alabama Regt., were shipped to Richmond, Va., and there interred in Hollywood Cemetery.”

Although the bones of John were not identified by a headboard, he and 11 others were placed in a box marked A. It appeared that Lt. Oates was no longer completely lost and, after many years of bereavement, William Oates would finally know his brother’s final resting place.

A March 1909 letter to Bettie Ellyson, president of the Ladies Memorial Association, asking for a more definitive location of Box A went unanswered. In July another missive was sent “begging” for a response, and still nothing.

In January 1910 another, more desperate inquiry was issued. This was followed up by an appeal to the superintendent of Hollywood Cemetery, John Hooper, for his assistance in motivating Ellyson. Finally, halfway through February, an apologetic letter was received by Oates. Bettie explained that she had not been at home but stated she was not entirely conversant with the Gettysburg exhumation records. However, she did concede that John’s body had been interred on Gettysburg Hill and that if the colonel came to Hollywood Cemetery she could show him “about” where his sibling lay.

With hope renewed, Oates quickly sent a letter of thanks, coupled with a heartrending, more specific plea for an exact location of John’s gravestone. Soon enough, the unthinkable news came from Ellyson. The Gettysburg dead, including John Oates, were not accorded individual graves but indignantly shuttled en masse into enormous plots simply marked by blocks of granite.

This was crushing to Oates, and his unsuccessful search came to an ultimate conclusion with his death on September 9, 1910.

So what resources do we have in the 21st century that  could give us a better result than Col. Oates’?

There were six shipments of remains made by Dr. Weaver between 1872 and 1873, which I list below for clarification and ease of locating.

Shipment No. 1 - June 13, 1872
Shipment No. 2 - August 3, 1872
Shipment No. 3 - September 10, 1872
Shipment No. 4 - May 17, 1873
Shipment No. 5 - June 28, 1873
Shipment No. 6 - October 11, 1873

Note that records of the last two shipments have not been discovered.

A list of identified Confederate dead must now be consulted, and these can be located in several ways. Dr. Weaver’s original notes are housed in the Adams County Historical Society in Gettysburg, and the Gettysburg National Military Park has copies in their library as well. Papers can also be found in the Museum of the Confederacy, Virginia Historical Society, and Hollywood Cemetery, all in Richmond.

For convenience, the names can be examined in two books. The first, written by Robert K. Krick in 1981, is The Gettysburg Death Roster: The Confederate Dead at Gettysburg. Four years later, Mary H. Mitchell wrote Hollywood Cemetery, The History of a Southern Shrine.

Because Mitchell used box numbers in an appendix and Krick did not, I opted to use the former. Then, while consulting this work, I discovered a major flaw—one that cost me two weeks of additional research to correct an inaccuracy that has been propagated for decades.

I believe righting this wrong will save people countless hours of frustration and put an end to the continuation of this historical error. As it is not within the scope of this article to correct the entire list, I will use Edgar Baker as an example.

In Mitchell’s Appendix 2, p. 146, is an alphabetical list of known Confederate dead under three headings: name, box number, and unit. It is the box number that poses the problem. At the bottom of the page is listed “Baker, E.G., box number 4-Y” and his unit. I started to use “box number 4-Y” as the designation for Baker, but then remembered something in Weaver’s records.

In 1873, when Weaver unearthed Baker’s remains along with others on the Crawford farm, they were placed in two boxes, each marked with the letter Y. In Mitchell’s appendix, she states that Baker was in box number “4-Y.” Where did the number four come from?

In order to better understand this question, we must examine a rather rudimentary but critical map from an unknown hand. The drawing and key that I used was kindly provided by the Museum of The Confederacy (see p. 53). It illustrates the placement of Southern soldiers from Gettysburg in four sections marked with numbers, letters, and sometimes state. In section four there are three boxes marked Y, two of which came from the Crawford farm.

Thus, for some inexplicable reason, at least in this case, Mary Mitchell combined the section number (4), with the letter on the box (Y), thereby creating a totally new box number, 4-Y. This distorts the historical record, so caution is advised.

Unlike the lamentable results Col. Oates encountered, my outcome was favorable. It has been my privilege and honor to procure a gravestone for Pvt. Edgar G. Baker from the Veterans Administration. In January 2008 it was placed in Hollywood Cemetery.

The author was instrumental in arranging for a proper headstone to mark
the location where Pvt. Edgar Baker is buried in Hollywood Cemetery,
Richmond, Virginia.

I hope that through this article and the memorial in a Virginia cemetery, Edgar Baker’s saga has been resurrected and will survive the ages.

The author wishes to thank the following people for their assistance in preparing this article: Gabor S. Boritt, owner, Samuel Crawford farm; John Heiser, historian, Gettysburg National Military Park; Roger Hunt, historian and respected friend; wife Jean Osborne, who typed the manuscript; Teresa Roane, library manager, Museum of the Confederacy; staff members of the Greene County Historical Society, Coxsackie, New York; and Katherine Wilkins, reference librarian, Virginia Historical Society.

A longtime contributor to the magazine and a fellow of the Company  of Military Historians, Seward Osborne is the author of Holding the Left: The 20th New York State Militia

at Gettysburg and The Saga of the Mountain Legion in the Civil War as well as the editor of The Civil War Diaries of Col. Theodore B. Gates, 20th New York State Militia.

Sources

Coco, Gregory A. Wasted Valor: The Confederate Dead at Gettysburg. Gettysburg, Pa.: Thomas Publications, 1990.

Krick, Robert K. The Gettysburg Death Roster: The Confederate Dead at Gettysburg. Dayton, Oh. 1981

LaFantasie, Glenn W. Gettysburg Requiem: The Life and Lost Causes of Confederate Colonel William C. Oates Oxford, NY Oxford University Press, 2006

Mitchell, Mary H. Hollywood Cemetery: The History of A Southern Shrine Richmond, Va: Virginia State Library, 1985

Richter, Edward G.J. "The Removal of the Confederate Dead From Gettysburg," Gettysburg Magazine, Dayton, Oh, Iss. No. 2, Jan.1990


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