Trail Dust: Civil War vets faded into history

Marc Simmons | For The New Mexican

7/4/2008 - 7/3/08

During the four bloody years of America's Civil War (1861-1865), some 2 1/2 million men served in the Union Army and just over 1 million in the Confederate Army.

In April 1954, while in high school, I visited Austin, Texas, on a student tour. One free afternoon, I phoned the Texas Confederate Veterans' Home on the edge of town and asked if I could come out and meet Thomas A. Riddle, one of the residents.

I was told to come ahead, for He had few visitors and would be glad to see me. I was not surprised to hear that, because ancient Tom was 108 years old and one of two surviving Texas Confederate veterans.

The other was "Uncle" Walt Williams who was some years older and lived in Houston with relatives. The last Union veteran of the Civil War had died several years before in Minnesota.

I've always thought it strange that despite the disparity in numbers, a few Confederates managed to outlive all of their Yankee foes.

Tom Riddle proved to be pretty feeble and could tell me little of his war experiences. In his mid-teens, he had fought in some skirmishes along the Louisiana-Texas border, and then spent most of the war on guard duty at a Southern gunpowder factory hidden in the swamps.

Still, he had been an enrolled member of the Confederate Army. And later it occurred to me that when He was a boy in the 1850s, a half dozen old soldiers were still living who had been with George Washington at Valley Forge. That thought made our national history seem remarkably short.

In the wake of the Civil War, combatants from both sides formed veterans' organizations. For the North, the main one was the Grand Army of the Republic, called G.A.R. Southerners had their United Confederate Veterans and other groups.

For many years, the veterans were prominent fixtures at Fourth of July celebrations and anniversaries of major battles. Their officers were often called upon to deliver patriotic orations.

In 1867, a large crowd assembled on Santa Fe Plaza to dedicate the Soldiers Monument, a 33-foot column funded by the territorial legislature.

This war memorial honored the Union men who had died at the fierce battle of Glorieta on March 28, 1862. Their sacrifice had saved New Mexico from an invading Confederate force.

Among the throng were families of some of the slain and also ex-soldiers, there to pay tribute to companions in battle who were killed. All around the country in large cities and small towns, Americans on both sides were erecting stone monuments and bronze statues in memory of their war dead.

Santa Fe in May 1885 unveiled another stone obelisk, this one in recognition of Brig. Gen. Kit Carson, among New Mexico's most significant officers in the Union Army.

This monument, which stands today at the north end of Lincoln Avenue in front of the U.S. Court House, attracted 5,000 people from around New Mexico for the dedication. On the stone base one can read: "Contributed by his comrades in the G.A.R."

Recently, I ran upon a related story widely circulated by New Mexico's press in April 1909. It appeared under the headline "Veterans of Glorieta Battle Held Reunion," and was datelined Denver.

Upon receiving news of a Confederate invasion of New Mexico, Gov. William Gilpin had raised a regiment of the First Colorado Volunteers and sent it south to aid in repulsing the rebels.

Men of the unit were referred to as "Pet Lambs," that nickname deriving from the favoritism toward them shown by the governor. These "Pets," numbering 1,000, played the key role at Glorieta in stopping the Southerners' advance and forcing their withdrawal from the territory.

By 1909, only 25 members of the regiment who had fought in New Mexico were still living. Maj. Jacob Downing, the only officer among them, announced a reunion at his Denver home.

Before it could happen, however, he died at age 79. His widow carried on, and the reunion took place, but only eight of the soldiers were mobile enough to attend.

The Santa Fe New Mexican reported: "What the gathering lacked in numbers, it made up for in spirit. Stories were exchanged and campfire yarns swapped. In most of them Major Downing was the hero."

Prominent in attendance were widows and daughters of men of the regiment. They had formed a Society of Pet Lambs to keep alive remembrance of the achievements of their beloved soldiers. At the reunion, they played instruments and sang patriotic songs of the Civil War era.

One of the ladies closed the affair by reading the following lines from the Society's official poem:

How swift the years have flown,

How feeble our steps have grown.

But few are left to shed a tear!

Historian Marc Simmons is author of numerous books on New Mexico and the Southwest. His column appears Saturdays.