Brothers,

I apologize, but this season has been a challenging one.  As such, I have been remiss in my Patriotic Instruction duties.  As a make up…

Thank you to Br. Scott Holmes for submitting the following:

Robert J. Holmes, Musician, Company B, 16th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry

First, they enlisted voluntarily.  Robert J. Holmes was the first American-born Holmes in our family, his parents being immigrants from Ireland in the 1830s.  He didn’t have to enlist, but he and hundreds of others did, and off to war they went.  Three weeks after mustering into service, he and his regiment found themselves at the Battle of Antietam, a hard way experience battle for the first time.

Fast forward to April 1864, at the Siege of Plymouth, North Carolina, he and about 1,600 others were captured at Plymouth and were imprisoned at Andersonville.  They entered the gates of Andersonville in early May, 1864.  In early September (when Atlanta fell) those prisoners that were healthy enough to move were moved to Charleston SC and then to a new stockade at Florence SC.  Hundreds of his regiment died the most horrible of deaths, from disease and starvation, in prison.

In the summer, the Confederates requested that the prisoners form a commission to go to Washington and plead for their exchange.  The Sergeants of Nineties who were responsible for the men were general disposed favorable toward asking for an exchange (recall that the Union had stopped exchanging prisoners).  The men took a vote, and the proposition was quite overwhelmingly voted down by the men.

In 1907, the State of Connecticut dedicated a monument at Andersonville to the men of the state who had been prisoners of war.  All veterans of Andersonville who were alive and able to travel were invited to attend the dedication ceremony at Andersonville, and Robert J. Holmes was among them.  A book was published by the State of Connecticut about the trip, which was chronicled by a veteran.   In the book are a couple of passages that are quite poignant regarding what it means to be a patriot.

The following is excerpted from the book.  (ed. note: bold emphasis from author)

DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT AT ANDERSONVILLE GEORGIA , October 23 1907, IN MEMORY OF THE MEN OF CONNECTICUT WHO SUFFERED IN SOUTHERN MILITARY PRISONS 1861-1865; HARTFORD: Published by the State, 1908.
[The following was written about the veterans men when they first came upon the prison site after an absence of 43 years]…
Leaving it behind, breakfast over, let us follow the old survivors over the stockade grounds, eager to once more stand on the very spot so associated with painful but precious memories to them. Conveyances of all sorts were on hand, their drivers out to make all there was in it, but while some rode many walked, especially the ex-prisoners, who wanted to go in just as they did before, ” on foot.

How it did all come back to us! There was where the 16th Connecticut men slept the night before they entered the prison, near the depot. Here is the old dirt road with its forks to the south and north gates of the stockade just where the brook crosses. On the left, going over, are the remains of the earthworks battery whose guns were trained on the great south gate of the prison. There is the covered way, by which troops were to be moved unseen to head off possible outbreaks from within, or to defend against attacks from without. But what is this? There is a difference, after all, thank God! No “stars and bars” wave from that tall flag-staff on the north hillside of the old stockade, but “Old Glory” swings out clear and fine in the bright morning sunlight.  How good it looks, right there!   Take a good look at it, and then well go on.  How the boys scatter, a group here and a group there, all eager  to see points of special interest!

The first point of interest with most was “Providence Spring,” still flowing in all its God-given purity and sweetness, and to this place all returned again and again. The words of Lincoln, “With malice toward none, with charity for all,” engraved on the marble tablet through which its waters flow, fitly express the spirit of the place. Close by it is the old stockade line, the correctness of its location post being proven by one of the old stumps which one of our party uncovered by digging a few inches under the surface, but none of which now remains standing. Inside that some twenty feet are the posts which mark the old “dead line,” to trespass on which brought an instant shot from the ready sentry. Over there on the south hillside was the great gate through which our boys entered the prison, and its main street, on which the ration wagons came in and the dead were carried out, and here on this street, about the center of the south hillside, the six “raiders” were hung in full view of thousands.

[Later in the book, the writer was discussing the Connecticut men]…

Solicitations to enter the military service or civil employment of the Southern Confederacy were turned aside with scorn by them, though acceptance meant instant release from the fate that now so clearly stared them in the face.

But the daily arrival of new prisoners brought constant information from the battlefields, with a clearer understanding of the real nature of the mighty conflict that was being waged  and the importance of their passive part in it. This was evidenced by the action of Connecticut men, – who, almost to a man, voted solidly against the proposal (originating with the Confederate authorities) for sending a commission through the lines to urge Union authorities to bring about an exchange of prisoners. They knew that at that time such an exchange practically meant a reinforcement of 50,000 able-bodied men to fill the depleted ranks of the Confederates. Numbers of our brave Connecticut boys, too weak to stand, crawled to their place in line to cast their votes against the proposition, well knowing that they would probably die in prison if not soon released, as in fact most of them did.

As the days of that fateful summer slowly passed, it was seen that our men were indeed fighting a losing battle. The constant and long-continued exposure to rain and sun and heat and cold, the poor and scanty rations, the disease-breeding filth, the heart sickness of hope deferred, all helped to break down resistance, and the death roll lengthened every day. One by one our brave boys gave up the fight and passed away, until more than 300 of them were quietly sleeping in this place, so remote from their New England home and all that they held dear. The inspired writer has said that ‘they that be slain with the sword are better than they that be slain with hunger, for these pine away, stricken through for want of the fruits of the field. ‘ [This is a biblical reference to Lamentations 4:9, which says: “They that be slain with the sword are better than they that be slain with hunger: for these pine away, stricken through for want of the fruits of the field.”].   It was not in the heat and excitement of the battle that these men gave up life.  No cheer of victory roused them as their souls took flight, but in the loneliness of a multitude, with a comrade only by their side, within an enemy’s lines and under a hostile flag, these sons of our beloved State passed to their great reward. Truly they were faithful unto death; faithful to their state whose citizens they were; faithful to their country whose flag they loved; faithful to the best that was in themselves.  God bless them !

These guys:
1.    Enlisted voluntarily to serve their flag and country
2.    Refused to galvanize when offered the opportunity
3.    Voted against requesting their government to exchange them (even as they languished in misery)
4.    Died slowly and agonizingly; they “pined away, stricken through for want of the fruits of the field.”
5.    Those that survived loved their flag and said as much upon their return to the prison site.
I can’t think of a more dramatic example of patriotism!