The Civil War Monument Destined for the Magic City of Southern Appalachia that was Never Built

As the sun prepared to hide its face behind the tall mountains to the west, a group of well-dressed, graying Civil War veterans sat on the porch of the newly opened Middlesborough Hotel. A few miles to their southeast was Cumberland Gap. The gap was a deep cleavage in Cumberland Mountain, a high ridge about one thousand feet above the surrounding countryside that stretched some forty miles across Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee. For more than a century, migrants had bypassed the rugged terrain and bowl-like depressions on each side of the gap in favor of lands to the west of the Appalachian Mountains, thus making it largely a sparsely populated, undeveloped terrain. But the quiet, sterile old fields of the Cumberland Gap surrounded by picturesque mountains were becoming lively. Now the sound of the saw, the hammer, the trowel, and almost every other implement of industry could be heard reverberating throughout the once silent landscape.

The "Magic City" of Middlesborough was the vision of Alexander Alan Arthur, a Scotsman taken by the natural beauty and industrial potential of the region. He had enlisted European investors to create the American Association, which purchased thousands of acres around the gap, constructed a railroad to link the region with the North and South, and planned an industrial city in the large bowl on the Kentucky side of the gap. Some five thousand people rushed to Middlesborough within weeks of the first lots being sold in 1889. By June 1890, a number of the newcomers included Northern and Southern capitalists who came in the hope of striking it rich in Appalachia. Among these American captains of industry were Civil War veterans that gathered at the Middlesborough Hotel.

Alexander Alan Arthur, the man behind Middlesborough 

On the evening of June 7, 1890, a group of former Union and Confederate soldiers were earnestly discussing the effort by officials in New York City to ensure that Union General Ulysses S. Grant was permanently entombed in an edifice in their city worthy of his legacy. Grant had been dead nearly five years; however, the campaign to raise the necessary funds to complete the monument to stand alongside the Hudson River at Riverside Park in Upper Manhattan had stalled. The veterans felt somewhat ashamed to read the distressing news that the monument may not be built to honor the "American Ulysses."


Knoxville Daily Journal, June 8, 1890

Prior to 1865, Americans had commemorated significant events and persons in history; however, the sheer scale of tragic death and heroic sacrifice in America's Civil War drove participants on both sides of the war to honor their leaders and ordinary soldiers by erecting statues and other structures in public and private venues. A relatively small number of monuments were dedicated in the 1860s and 1870s. But a rapid expansion of building Civil War monuments in the mid-1880s and 1890s was precipitated by the children of veterans who began dying during this time. Moreover, the greatest number of monuments, which were erected in Southern cemeteries and public spaces, was a product of cementing the Confederacy's Lost Cause narrative of the war, one which downplayed the role of slavery as the primary cause of the Civil War in favor of a carefully constructed narrative of battlefield glory and one in which Southerners, staunch advocates of states' rights, fought honorably to defend their homes from invading Yankees. Thus, with a booming Southern Appalachian City as the backdrop for a discussion of the plight of Grant's Tomb, a scheme was hatched at the Middlesborough Hotel on June 7, 1890.


The view from the overlook atop Pinnacle Mountain
(Virginia is far left, Tennessee center, and Middlesboro, Kentucky far right)

The group of Confederate and Union veterans looked toward Pinnacle Mountain. Its summit of nearly 2500 feet soared over the Cumberland Gap, offering a majestic view into the states of Virginia, Tennessee, and Kentucky. There, pointing to the mountain, Captain John M. Brooks, a former Confederate officer and mayor of Middlesborough, said is where we should build statues to both Civil War commanders--Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee. Brooks envisioned two colossal statues on horseback that could be seen from the gap below. Grant was to be positioned looking southward while Lee looked northward. In a nod to the push for national reconciliation in the late nineteenth century, both Civil War commanders would have extended hands to each other. Such a monument, Brooks maintained, would draw more tourists to the region and the mountain which typically saw several thousand either hike or ride up to its summit each year to contemplate the magnificent panorama below. Middlesborough, Brooks proudly proclaimed, would provide lodging accommodations and a variety of businesses for visitors to spend their money while they enjoyed the natural beauty of the Cumberland Gap.

Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee shake hands after Lee's surrender at Appomattox Court House

The veterans quickly canvassed other capitalists from New York, Boston, and Chicago staying at the hotel and at other places throughout Middlesborough. They managed to raise $14,000 in a matter of days. Next, they organized the Cumberland Gap Grant and Lee Association and called for a meeting at the town hall for June 13. At that meeting, officers were elected and telegrams of cooperation and encouragement from numerous governors, senators, and congressmen were read to thundering applause. The Association leaders highlighted a telegram from Ohio Governor Joseph B. Foraker, who stated that "I will gladly help you all I can." For many Southerners, Foraker had been a lightning rod who symbolized the vengeful Yankee. The Ohio governor had enlisted in the Union army as a sixteen-year-old in July 1862 and fought under General William Sherman on the road to Atlanta as well as participated in the former general's infamous March to the Sea. Foraker's enthusiastic support for the monument was promoted by Middleborough's boosters as symbolic of the reconciliation that had taken place among the former Union and Confederate veterans in the twenty-five years since Lee's surrender to Grant at Appomattox Court House. A call was then made inviting former Union and Confederate soldiers to subscribe to the fund with subscriptions running one dollar each. Before the meeting adjourned, it was agreed that notices announcing the subscription campaign be sent to newspapers to be published throughout the country. The Association hoped to raise $50,000 in the week ahead.      

A week later, O. O. Hall of Middlesborough, the secretary of the Cumberland Gap Grant and Lee Association, arrived back from his travels to a number of northern cities to elicit funds from their leading merchant princes. While newspapers reported that a storm was taking over the country with funds flowing into Middlesborough to make a Grant and Lee monument to national unity in Southern Appalachia a reality, it appeared that the campaign was fizzling out. Hall reported to the Association's board that $26,000 had been raised thus far; however, he was still hopeful that they would be able to raise the much-needed several hundred thousand dollars to complete the project.

In spite of the optimism, things were looking ominous in Middlesborough. The "Magical City" was plagued by three disastrous conflagrations in the summer of 1890. By early 1891, the money was drying up as a worldwide depression shook the confidence of both American and European investors interested in the town. By 1893, most investors had pulled out. All major businesses in Middlesborough soon closed, land values plummeted, and the Magic City resembled a western ghost town. Though the mid and late 1890s were a constant struggle for those left behind, the city survived on the strength of the regional coal industry. Its residents dropped the "ugh" at the end of its name and recast their city as Middlesboro.

As the "Magical City" of Middlesborough died, so did the plan to build a monument of peace, unity, and national reconciliation atop Pinnacle Mountain. Though it would have been a majestic piece of art to rival the majestic panoramic view of the Cumberland Gap, it would have constituted yet another work of art erected without the proper historical context that perpetuate a carefully, contrived narrative promoted and nourished in the thousands of late 19th and early 20th century Civil War monuments that dot our national (primarily southern) landscape.  

Sources: Knoxville Daily Journal, Earl Hess, Lincoln Memorial University and the Shaping of Appalachia

I Didn't Throw Away My Shot: Seeing Hamilton in NYC

I thought I would take my shot in the hopes of seeing Hamilton while I was in New York. Thus, I entered the Hamilton lottery with dreams of snagging a couple $10 tickets to see the show on Broadway. Of course I knew the odds were not in my favor. Sadly, I struck out not once, not twice, but three times. Had the show featured most of the original cast, perhaps I may have been more inclined to spend $300-$400 per ticket for a seat in the nose bleed section. Oh well, the tour comes to Louisville next year and I plan to take my shot over and over again in the hope of snagging some cheap seats.


Though I failed to strike gold in the Hamilton lottery, all was not lost. There was no need to hang around the Rodgers Theater and let my problems surround me. I could still have my shot at seeing Hamilton and a few others in the cast while I was in Manhattan. After all, the actual historical stars of Hamilton were nearby. All I needed to do was (cue Petula Clark) go downtown. . . . where I could forget all my troubles, forget all my cares. So, I went downtown. Downtown Manhattan, no finer place for sure. Downtown at Trinity Church, everything was waiting for me: Alexander Hamilton, the Schuyler sisters, and Hercules Mulligan.




Alexander Hamilton

Eliza Schuyler Hamilton

Hercules Mulligan

Angelica Schuyler Church

Trinity Church, an active Episcopal parish which has been an institution in New York City for more than 300 years, stands at the intersection of Broadway and Wall Street. In 1697, the first of three Trinity Church's was built at the head of Wall Street of facing the Hudson River marking it the first Anglican church on the island of Manhattan. The first Trinity Church burned in 1776 during the American Revolutionary War. A second Trinity Church was completed in 1790. At this point in time, all Anglican churches in the former colonies had legally separated from the Church of England to become the Episcopal Church. The second church faced Wall Street and was both longer and wider than the first. The new steeple soared to a height of 200 feet. President George Washington and members of his government were regular worshipers in the new Trinity building during the brief period New York City was the capital of the United States (1789-1790). Notable parishioners from this time include John Jay, who briefly served as Acting Secretary of State before being appointed the first Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, and Alexander Hamilton, the nation's first Secretary of Treasury.

In 1838, the support beams of the second Trinity Church buckled. After consulting with a prominent architect, the congregation decided that the best course of action was to demolish the current structure and to construct a third church. Richard Upjohn was hired to design the new church. Upjohn, who appreciated Anglo-Catholic liturgical style and English Gothic architecture, designed a church that looked like a 14th-century English parish church. Trinity Church, consecrated on Ascension Day 1846, is considered one of the first and finest examples of Neo-Gothic architecture in the United States. With a 281-foot high steeple, Trinity was the tallest building in New York City until 1890, when the city's skyline was transformed by modern skyscrapers.

First, Trinity Church stands at the head of Wall Street along Broadway.

Here are some exterior photos of Trinity Church.

And now, the actual historical stars of the Broadway smash hit. Alexander Hamilton's final resting place at Trinity's graveyard.

Alexander's better half, Eliza Schuyler Hamilton, who lived a long, and eventful life (1757-1854).

Hercules Mulligan, 1740-1825. A tailor in British-occupied New York during the American Revolution, Mulligan used his position to discreetly extract intelligence from his clients, many of whom were British soldiers, which he then passed on to General George Washington. Mulligan was a member of Trinity Church and served on its vestry.

Angelica Schulyer Church, an American socialite and sister of Eliza Hamilton (1756-1814). She is buried on the opposite side of the graveyard from a number of historical figures, including the $10 dollar, founding father, Alexander Hamilton who was her brother-in-law.

Note: Trinity Church History courtesy of Trinity Church's website.

Who's Buried in Grant's Tomb?

Grant's Tomb, New York City

I admit, I have a special place in my heart for General Ulysses S. Grant. From the moment I read and critiqued William McFeely's 1981 Pulitzer Prize winning biography in my first graduate course on Civil War Era biographies I was hooked. My general dislike of the book prompted me to search out better scholarly works on Grant and I soon found that the literature on Grant was lacking both in interpretation and focus on his instrumental role during Reconstruction (generally considered to be the postwar period 1865-1877). I found Brooks D. Simpson's study, Let Us Have Peace to be the best book on Grant's years in between the end of the Civil War and the presidency; however, even this book failed to acknowledge Grant as a key player in arresting the course of President Andrew Johnson's Reconstruction policies and his actual interest, rather than general disinterest, in pursuing a political career. I immediately notified my mentor that I wanted to pursue a study of Grant between 1865-1869 for my Master's thesis. That project, which earned me my M.A. in history, has yielded three scholarly manuscripts in a graduate, state, and national journal in my field.

Despite two previous trips to New York City, I had not been able to get up town to see Grant's Tomb. Time permitting, I had tentatively scheduled a visit to Grant's Tomb during my last trip to the Big Apple in 2013 as part of a teacher's workshop. Sadly, I missed another opportunity. During my recent trip to New York in which Heather and I were celebrating 20 years together, I never thought we would have enough time. I had thought of a couple of historical sites I would like to visit if things worked out, but Grant's Tomb was not on the list. Suddenly the schedule opened when plans to see a third Broadway show fell thru so I asked Heather if it would be ok to hit Grant's Tomb along with a stroll through Central Park. So we boarded the subway for the ride uptown to the 125 Street station. From there, it was a good little uphill hike about 4 or so blocks to Grant's Tomb.

 

The beautiful Riverside Church which sits cater-corner from Grant's Tomb.

 

 

The closing 4 words in Grant's 1868 letter accepting the Republican presidential nomination, "Let Us Have Peace."

 

When Grant died on July 23, 1885 as a result of lung cancer (smoked too many cigars!), he had perhaps won the biggest fight of his life--completing his memoirs to help secure his family's financial security after his death. The question was, where would Grant be buried? A site for Grant's tomb in Riverside Park in New York City was offered and accepted by the Grant family.

 

According to the General's wife, Julia Grant, "Riverside was selected by myself and my family as the burial place of my husband, General Grant. First, because I believed New York was his preference. Second, it is near the residence that I hope to occupy as long as I live, and where I will be able to visit his resting place often. Third, I have believed, and am now convinced, that the tomb will be visited by as many of his countrymen there as it would be at any other place. Fourth, the offer of a park in New York was the first which observed and unreservedly assented to the only condition imposed by General Grant himself, namely, that I should have a place by his side."

 

A subscription list of employees of the Freeman,
an African American newspaper in NYC
that contributed $5.05 toward the memorial.

His remains were placed in a temporary vault immediately north of the current tomb. Though public land was provided, as was the case for most Civil War memorials, funding for the construction of a permanent memorial to Grant had to be raised from private sources. The Grant Monument Association was founded to raise such funds, hold a design competition, select an architect, and oversee construction. By 1890, the Association had raised a paltry $150,000, about half a million shy to complete the project. There was also objection to the site in New York City as Union veterans' organization favored a permanent memorial in Washington, D.C. An appeal was made to the New York State Assembly; however, legislators refused the request. Eventually, wealthy New Yorkers managed to raise the necessary funds to complete the memorial. The tomb was dedicated in April 1897.

Grant's temporary vault in Riverside Park north of the present memorial. Grant rested here from 1885-1897.

1897 commemorative program from dedication

Looking south toward Grant's Tomb from Riverside.

 

Now, for a look inside and to see, who, if anyone, is buried in Grant's Tomb? The view above the Grant's resting place is part of a late 1930s restoration project during the New Deal in which murals of the battles Grant had fought, including the moment in which peace was achieved with General Robert E. Lee at Appomattox Court House in April 1865, were painted on the memorial's walls.  Toward the end of the 1930s, a project began to restore the two reliquary rooms, where battle flags were displayed in trophy cases.

 

 

 

 

As part of the Federal Art Project, artists William Mues and Jeno Juszko were chosen to design the busts of generals who had fought under General Ulysses S. Grant during the United States Civil War. These generals surround the final resting place of Ulysses and Julia Grant.

 

The Federal Art Project also included the restoration of two reliquary rooms where battle flags are displayed in trophy cases.

As you can see, nobody is buried in Grant's Tomb . . . well, at least we know Ulysses and Julia Grant are not.

A Trip to Green-Wood Cemetery, Brooklyn, NY (Part 3)

Henry Chadwick's grave, Green-Wood Cemetery

After I found one of the families at the center of my current book project, I sauntered over to the final resting place of Henry Chadwick. An engraved plaque affixed to the monument that the National League dedicated to Chadwick at Green-Wood grandiosely declared him "Father of Base Ball." But Chadwick, an Englishman whose skill lay in his pen rather than a bat, was known as the preeminent writer on baseball. The English born player of ball games such as rounders and cricket arrived in the United States in 1837 and later took a job as a cricket reporter for the New York Times. He first observed the American game of "base ball" in 1856 when he happened upon a spirited match played by two New York clubs on the Elysian Fields that reflected an aggressive, high-energized characteristic of mid-nineteenth century Americans: “Americans do not care to dawdle over a sleep-inspiring game, all through the heat of a June or July day,” Chadwick wrote. “What they do they want to do in a hurry. In baseball all is lightning; every action is as swift as a seabird’s flight.”


Henry Chadwick, 1874

Thus the title of "father of base ball" bestowed upon Chadwick at the time of his death in 1908 must be a mistake if the game and rules of base ball had already been developed by the time Chadwick observed his match. Recent research seems to indicate that others, such as Daniel "Doc" Lucius  Adams, are perhaps more fitting of that title due to their part in developing the rules of the national game. At the very least, Adams and those who developed the rules in the 1840s, are among the "founding fathers of baseball." Chadwick, however, popularized baseball among working-class Americans by translating his passion for the sport into regular columns that he contributed to the New York Clipper and Sunday Mercury. According to baseball historian John Thorn, Chadwick was baseball's greatest booster, who pioneered the box-score with copious statistics that aided his reporting. Chadwick later wrote in his 1868 Game of Base Ball:

"I was struck with the idea that base ball was just the game for a national sport for Americans . . . as much so as cricket is for England. . . . I began to invent a method of giving detailed reports of leading contests at base ball, and, seeing that every thing connected with the game, almost, was new, its rules crude and hastily prepared, with no systematized plan of recording the details of a game, and, in fact, no fixed method of either playing or scoring it, as soon as I became earnestly interested in the subject I began to submit amendments to the rules of the game to the consideration of the fraternity, generally in the form of suggestions through the press, my first improvement introduced being an innovation on the simple method of scoring then in vogue. Step by step, little by little, either directly or indirectly, did I succeed in assisting to change the game from the almost simple field exercise it was . . . to the manly, scientific game of ball it is now."

For more on Chadwick and his role in scoring the national game, see this 2009 NPR piece.

Chadwick biographer, Andrew Schiff contributed the following brief biography for the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR).

A diamond complete with bases surrounds Chadwick's monument at Green-Wood Cemetery.

 

 

Henry Chadwick's plaque in the Baseball Hall of Fame