The was the John Quincy Adams Ward statue of Henry Ward Beecher as it was late this afternoon. With Super Bowl 48 now in the books we can look forward to pitchers and catchers reporting in a few weeks. Can spring be far behind?

I was working at the public library today. One of the books I was using was an old tome published just after the Civil War. When I opened it, out fell this call slip from someone who had requested the book in December 1961.

I got back from Florida late last night, about seven hours overdue. All told, I was one of the lucky ones. Yesterday I dealt with the avalanche of snow; today I am dealing with the avalanche of emails found in my in-box. One thing that caught my eye was this piece from the Washington Post about the new Senior Historian at the National Portrait Gallery, David Ward. The NPG is one our country’s great treasures. I love the part at the beginning where he talks about Theodore Roosevelt and the 1913 Armory Show. Roosevelt the Connoisseur is something I wrote about in late November. It is a prominent theme in my Interp at the Birthplace. When I am in Washington later this month I am going to see if they indeed changed the signage next to the sketch of the Colonel.

I am looking forward to getting back into the swing of things.

(image by Charles Dana Gibson/NPG)

Longtime readers of The Strawfoot know that I have a special interest in aging veterans. As I have pointed out before, what is so fascinating about them is that, pretty much by definition, the last ones remaining were the ones most ordinary during the conflict. The last soldier of the Great War died a few years ago to great fanfare. Now, we are seeing the process play of again with WW2 vets, a phenomenon that will become even more pronounced in the next few years as their numbers dwindle into the single digits. Just recently we saw them being cynically used as symbols on the National Mall during the shutdown.

Last night I finished Richard A. Serrano’s just-released Last of the Blue and Gray. Serrano tells the tale of the last few dozen or so Civil War soldiers and how they became living monuments during the Cold War and Civil Rights Movement. Many of these aged men, just young boys between ’61-’65, had only the most tenuous of military careers. Typically, they had been drummer boys or, if a bit older, foragers for a few months during the Civil War. I don’t think I understood the level of fraud involved in many of these cases until reading the book. Many “soldiers” had never seen service at all but were now so old that they had come to believe the tall tales they had spun on courtyard squares and back porches for decades to eager audiences. Others intentionally faked it to receive a pension during the hardscrabble years of the Great Depression. Whatever the circumstances of each case, the American public was naturally eager for that human connection to the past. So much so, that many people chose not to believe the news when a case proved to be fraudulent.

In the 1940s and 50s each Civil War soldier’s death was bigger news than the one that came before until, finally, the last one remaining was Walter Williams of Texas. When he passed on in December 1959 the nation took note. His body lay in state in Houston for two days. The White House issued an official proclamation. The only problem was, Williams had never served in the Confederate Army as he had claimed. Serrano does a great job explaining the hows and why of this fascinating and quite human story that took place not that long ago.

The Castle during the Civil War: This photograph is mislabeled April 1865 but probably dates to 1863, before the fire

I am sitting here listening to The Statesmen Quartet, the Memphis vocal group that exerted tremendous on the young and impressionable Elvis. It is great Sunday morning music.

Earlier in the week I received in the mail a publisher’s advanced copy of Smithsonian Civil War: Inside the National Collection and have been enjoying it very much. What I like the most about the Smithsonian Institution is its interdisciplinary approach to its collections and museums. It covers out national heritage from different perspectives—scientific, historic, artistic, cultural, and so on. Since the start of the Sesquicentennial I have visited numerous Civil War-related exhibits at different Smithsonian museums; each one had a different shift of emphasis and added to my understanding of the war. This book takes that approach, drawing on the resources of thirteen different Smithsonian archives and museums. Another thing I like is that the editors have kept Smithsonian itself as the central aspect of the book. Thus, we read how collecting the Civil War started as almost an afterthought and grew organically from there. Books like the recently published Lincoln’s Citadel describe the chaos, violence, and dirtiness of Washington City during the war. Like Lincoln, Smithsonian director Joseph Henry lost his son to typhoid during the war. What we now know as The Castle was partly lost to fire in January 1865. My favorite Smithsonian museum is the National Portrait Gallery, which is housed in the old Patent Office. I recognized many of the artifacts in the book from the NPG, as well as other places. Walking the halls, you half expects to encounter Walt Whitman or Clara Barton coming your way.

There is nothing like seeing the real deal, which is why we visit. In the photographs and concise essays of this new release, the Smithsonian has done a good capturing that excitement.

(image/Smithsonian Institution)

Franklin Delano Roosevelt funeral, Hyde Park , New York; April 1945

Had it not been for the Shutdown friends and I would be on Metro North right now on our way to Hyde Park. Weatherwise, it was a perfect day to visit but alas we will have to wait. I was shocked and horrified to see footage of congressmen/women blaming NPS personnel to their face for the closings on the National Mall this week. Blaming federal employees who are stuck in the middle and are trying to make the best of a difficult situation is the height of arrogance. I was glad to see these workers responding with grace and dignity.

(image/National Archives)