Worth the Wait?

Route 2: Pain now–Payback later

The green is a con­fus­ing mess at the moment.

By Sharon Lakey

Sen­a­tor Jane Kitchel was quot­ed in the Cale­don­ian-Record on July 1, 2011, at a meet­ing between the Ver­mont Agency of Trans­porta­tion and Danville res­i­dents and busi­ness own­ers. “Maybe this project is a lot like hav­ing a baby. When we get done we’ll be pleased with what we have, hopefully.”

There’s no doubt about the pain. Any­one try­ing to make it through and around Danville this sum­mer has expe­ri­enced it. Frus­tra­tion has some­times been high, but late­ly it seems peo­ple, at least local­ly, are wait­ing for the baby with more sto­icism. And while wel’re wait­ing, there is renewed inter­est in what the final prod­uct is going to look like. Over the past 20-plus years, the col­lec­tive mem­o­ry of how this project evolved has dimmed; per­haps a review of how we got here from there is use­ful. So, a lit­tle history…

Born to Command

Addison W. Preston’s Call to Arms

By Mark R. Moore

Ver­mont Asso­ciate and archivist at the Danville VT His­tor­i­cal Society
Pre­ston in full dress uniform

How many times do we wish his­to­ry would come alive for us? The sweat of bod­ies and hors­es, the ting, clink and clang of accou­ter­ments , the deep glow and scent of bur­nished leather, shin­ing brass but­tons, the glint of bul­lion gold braid on sleeves and shoul­ders in the bright sun­light, pass­ing through a nat­ur­al arch­way of fra­grant lilac. Walt Whit­man put obser­va­tions like this into verse:

…the head of my cav­al­ry parad­ing on spir­it­ed horses,
With sabres drawn and glis­ten­ing, and car­bines by their thighs, (ah, my brave horsemen!
My hand­some tan-faced horse­men! what life, what joy and pride,
With all the per­ils were yours.)

This was undoubt­ed­ly the spir­it that then Cap­tain Addi­son Web­ster Pre­ston of Danville con­veyed to star­ry-eyed new enlis­tees as he recruit­ed them into Com­pa­ny D of the 1st Ver­mont Cav­al­ry in 1862. Here at the Danville His­tor­i­cal Soci­ety we have Addi­son Preston’s blue wool dress uni­form, his dress pants, his boots, car­tridge box, horse’s hal­ter, flask and McClel­lan saddle.

More impor­tant­ly, I think, we have a pho­to­graph of him at around the age of 33 that con­veys his image—his thin­ning hair is swept back, his mus­tache is fierce, his eyes are fiery and he grasps his sabre’s hilt as if ready to draw it and smite the enemy.

He was pro­mot­ed to Lt. Colonel by 1863 and com­mand­ed the entire 1st Ver­mont Cav­al­ry. Quot­ing from Joseph D. Col­lea, Jr’s book The First Ver­mont Cav­al­ry in the Civ­il War, upon his death the Ver­mont Record wrote, “Colonel Pre­ston was char­ac­ter­ized by quick­ness of per­cep­tion, thought and action which made him what he was as a sol­dier and an offi­cer. He nev­er found exact­ly his right place til he went into the army…Col. Pre­ston might not have achieved so sig­nal a suc­cess as he did in war. He was a born sol­dier, and found that out when the coun­try sound­ed the call to arms.”

But this does not mean he failed to attend to the needs of his men or their fam­i­lies. The record is replete with let­ters writ­ten by him to wid­ows and the Gov­ern­ment Pen­sion Board detail­ing a trooper’s last ill­ness or his hero­ism in bat­tle. His after-bat­tle reports are suc­cinct in con­trast to the dra­mat­ic accounts he sent back to the papers in Vermont.

His per­son­al let­ters to his younger broth­er, William Hen­ry Pre­ston (future Prin­ci­pal- 1867–1870- of Danville Acad­e­my), shows he also con­tin­ued to be atten­tive to mat­ters at home. In let­ters housed at the Kitchel Cen­ter, Fair­banks Muse­um, and tran­scribed by Lynn Bon­field, the read­er wit­ness­es his direct and com­mand­ing style.

Hen­ry

I have writ­ten to B. N Davis to day and I wish you to keep your eye out for Col Sawyer and also one Sgt Mitchel of Co D when he took home with him. Say to Esq Davis to look sharp for the Col. I fear he will try to injure me in Vt if you hear of it let me know. Are you going to teach this win­ter or study a profession?

How much did you make last fall…

Remem­ber Ener­gy is what can grow. I will write you often on this subject…

Addi­son”

A Visit to Aspet

One of the most famous of the Saint-Gau­dens’ sculp­tures is of Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, a white com­man­der, lead­ing the all-black 54th Mass­a­chu­setts regiment.
By Paul Chouinard, Pres­i­dent of the Danville His­tor­i­cal Society
 
On Sun­day, July 12th, Bernadette and I, along with friends, ven­tured south along the Con­necti­cut Riv­er to Wind­sor, VT where we crossed the Con­necti­cut over VT’s longest cov­ered bridge. Our des­ti­na­tion was the Saint-Gau­dens estate, Aspet. This Nation­al His­toric Site is locat­ed in Cor­nish, N.H. on Route 12A. Our plan was to enjoy a pic­nic on the lawn of the estate, locat­ed on a hill, high above the Con­necti­cut Riv­er, over­look­ing Mount Ascut­ney in the dis­tance. We enjoyed our pic­nic while lis­ten­ing to a cham­ber con­cert by Rogers & Mil­li­can per­form­ing the music of Johann Nepo­muk Hum­mel. The mag­nif­i­cent peren­ni­al gar­dens and the sounds of nature pro­vid­ed a per­fect atmosphere.
 

Augus­tus Saint-Gau­dens, some­times known as the Amer­i­can Michelan­ge­lo, was among the fore­most sculp­tors of the late nine­teenth and ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry. He arrived in Cor­nish in 1885. He rent­ed an old inn for the sum­mer and over time he adapt­ed the house to his needs and con­vert­ed the barn into a stu­dio. He ulti­mate­ly pur­chased the prop­er­ty and con­tin­ued to sum­mer there until 1892, when it became his year-round home. Over the years he trans­formed the prop­er­ty into a cen­ter for artists and intel­lec­tu­als of the peri­od, who formed what has become known as the “Cor­nish Colony.” The Colony includ­ed: painters Max­field Par­rish, Thomas Dew­ing, George de For­est Bush, Lucia Fuller, and Keny­on Cox; drama­tist Per­cy Mac-Kaye; Amer­i­can nov­el­ist Win­ston Churchill; archi­tect Charles Platt; and sculp­tors Paul Man­ship, Her­bert Adams, and Louis Saint- Gau­dens, broth­er of Augus­tus. They cre­at­ed a dynam­ic social envi­ron­ment, cen­tered around Saint-Gaudens.

All Hell Breaks Loose: Vermonters Get Down to the Business

Civil­ian observers at the Bat­tle of Bull Run

By Gary Far­row, Mem­ber of the Danville VT His­tor­i­cal Society

One hun­dred and fifty years ago this month saw the Union reel­ing from the first major bat­tle of the Civ­il War; riot­ing over seces­sion­ists in New Eng­land; and a spate of activ­i­ty in Ver­mont and the North­east King­dom devot­ed to mar­shal­ing the troops.

The out­come of Bull Run, fought Sun­day July 21, shook every­one from their naive slum­ber. Gen­er­al McDowell’s 30,000 Union troops marched the 30 miles west of Wash­ing­ton DC to attack an equal num­ber of Con­fed­er­ate troops. Some gov­ern­ment dig­ni­taries decid­ed to make a day of it and go and see the bat­tle for themselves.

Optimism Prevails

Going to See the Elephant, part 3

The Bat­tle of Big Bethel was a fail­ure for Fed­er­al troops. The Ver­mont Civ­il War Hem­locks have raised funds to raise a sev­en foot mon­u­ment made of Barre gran­ite at the bat­tle site.
By Paul Chouinard, Pres­i­dent of the Danville His­tor­i­cal Society

Going to see the ele­phant” was an expres­sion used by enlis­tees in the Union Army describ­ing the expe­ri­ence of coun­try boys going off to war where they would expe­ri­ence life in ways they could not have imagined.

At the out­set of the Civ­il War the stat­ed objec­tive of the North was to main­tain the Union. The Con­fed­er­ate States iden­ti­fied “states rights” as their major objec­tive which would give them the right to func­tion inde­pen­dent­ly. Main­stream his­to­ri­ans have com­mon­ly agreed that: “Every­thing stemmed from the slav­ery issue,” as stat­ed by Pro­fes­sor James McPher­son, whose book Bat­tle Cry of Free­dom is wide­ly judged to be the author­i­ta­tive one-vol­ume his­to­ry of the Civ­il War.

It was not until Sep­tem­ber 22, 1862, fol­low­ing the bloody Bat­tle of Anti­etam that Lin­coln issued a pre­lim­i­nary Procla­ma­tion of Eman­ci­pa­tion, which declared that all slaves in states or parts of states still fight­ing against the Unit­ed States on Jan­u­ary 1, 1863 would from that time on be for­ev­er eman­ci­pat­ed. On Jan­u­ary 1, 1863, Lin­coln issued his final Eman­ci­pa­tion Procla­ma­tion. How­ev­er, it did not free slaves in states then in the Union, the Bor­der States, nor cer­tain parts of Vir­ginia and Louisiana that were under Union con­trol. The Eman­ci­pa­tion Procla­ma­tion did have the effect of clear­ly iden­ti­fy­ing slav­ery as a vital issue of the war for both cit­i­zens of the Unit­ed States and for its allies.

THE NORTH STAR

JUNE 8, 1861

From Fortress Monroe

Great activ­i­ty is per­ceived at Fortress Mon­roe. Troops and ammu­ni­tion are con­stant­ly arriv­ing, the gar­ri­son now amount­ing to thir­teen thou­sand men, and large bod­ies were mov­ing into the inte­ri­or, it was thought, with the inten­tion of mak­ing for Nor­folk by a cir­cuitous route. Up to Thurs­day evening, slaves were still flock­ing to the fort. It was dis­cov­ered that thir­ty of the slaves belonged to one man in Rich­mond. He obtained per­mis­sion to vis­it the fort to con­fer with Gen­er­al But­ler on the sub­ject of get­ting his live prop­er­ty back. The Gen­er­al said they came there of their own accord, and could go back with him if they desired it. They were asked if they desired to return with their mas­ter. They quick­ly decid­ed that they pre­ferred to remain with the sol­diers in the fort…

Going to See the Elephant

Harper’s Week­ly image of the fir­ing on Fort Sumter in April, 1861
By Paul Chouinard, Pres­i­dent of the Danville His­tor­i­cal Society

 

April marks the begin­ning of the sesqui­cen­ten­ni­al obser­vance of the out­set of the Civ­il War with the fir­ing on Fort Sumter in Charleston Har­bor, April 12, 1861. For the next four years the Danville His­tor­i­cal Soci­ety will reprint excerpts of arti­cles pub­lished in the North Star from 1861 to 1865 focus­ing on Danville’s involve­ment in the Civ­il War.

Going To See The Ele­phant” was an expres­sion used by enlis­tees in the Union Army describ­ing the expe­ri­ence of coun­try boys going off to war where they would expe­ri­ence life in ways they could not have imagined.

Under the lead­er­ship of Gov­er­nor Eras­tus Fair­banks, Ver­mont respond­ed quick­ly to the call for men to join the Union forces. Dur­ing the Civ­il War, Ver­mont con­tributed more per capi­ta from its trea­sury and from its pop­u­la­tion of young men to the con­flict than any oth­er state in the Union. Danville’s finan­cial com­mit­ment of approx­i­mate­ly $36,000. to the war effort , as well as the num­ber of its enlist­ments was extraordinary.

In 1861, Danville had a pop­u­la­tion of about 2,500 con­sist­ing of about 350 men between the ages of 18 and 45. Out of this pool of men, from 1861 to 1865 Danville fur­nished 245 enlist­ments con­sist­ing of 194 dif­fer­ent men. The bal­ance was account­ed for by re-enlist­ments. By the end of the war, Danville had lost a total of 35 men. Twelve of those who lost their lives were killed in bat­tle and the rest died from expo­sure, star­va­tion, or sickness.

It Ain’t Necessarily So

…or How a Vermonter Brought His Girlfriend to a Minstrel Show

Locks of love and tick­et stubs
By Mark R. Moore, Ver­mont Asso­ciate at Danville His­tor­i­cal House
Beside the two tick­et stubs that lie before me on the desk are two locks of hair. One is longer, thick and satiny with a slight curl. The oth­er is wispy and of a rougher texture.

Like many things at His­tor­i­cal House, a glance at the sur­face of what one encoun­ters does not reveal the facts. Instead, these items are more like a mul­ti-faceted dia­mond, a kalei­do­scope of thoughts and con­clu­sions that change with the slight­est turn. The facts must be eval­u­at­ed against the par­tial evi­dence that we have before us as well as our knowl­edge of the past, placed in con­text of the present. Add to that the knowl­edge we gath­er from out­side sources, and it will bal­ance our first gut reactions.

A Leap Year Proposal I Send by Mail

Flo­rence and Her­bert Stan­ton of North Danville
By Mark R. Moore

We tend to think of peo­ple whose writ­ings date from the ear­ly 1900s as “old” folks–ossified cit­i­zens of Danville who were “set in their ways” and as per­son­able, humor­ous and emo­tion­al as a mar­ble stat­ue that we touched as a child. Fre­quent­ly, in the course the course of clas­si­fy­ing fam­i­ly doc­u­ments for the Danville His­tor­i­cal Soci­ety, I come across one that offers insight that shows that they were not much dif­fer­ent that teenagers are today.  Had I read only Flo­rence Johnson’s 1907  let­ters to Her­bert Stan­ton (her hus­band only a year lat­er) I would been con­firmed in a strait­laced con­trol­ling stereo­type of an all-know­ing spouse-to-be. In the fol­low­ing let­ter, Her­bert was con­fined to home with mumps.