The American Narrative Episode 1: The Fishing Creek Confederacy
- Tim Murphy
- Jan 10
- 36 min read
DISCLAIMER (0:00) – The following program contains descriptions of violence and suggestive topics that may not be appropriate for younger audiences. Listener discretion is advised.
Tim (0:09) – You’re listening to the American Narrative: Histories of a Nation, a podcast series by Discover America. I’m your host, Tim Murphy, along with my good friend and fellow history enthusiast, Grant Shea. Welcome to the inaugural episode!
Grant (0:20) – Excited to be here, man! Excited for the journey and excited to explore all these interesting moments in history.
Tim (0:27) – This project has been a work-in-progress for several years, so it’s just an absolutely amazing feeling that it’s finally ready to launch. For all those familiar with the Discover America Blog or have read my articles in the past, thank you. None of this would have been possible without your encouragement and support. And if you’re just tuning in for the first time, welcome! Hope you’re ready to learn some American history. Ready to dive in?
Grant (0:48) – Yeah, let’s get to it!
Tim (0:50) – All right, here we go!
Today, we’ll be discussing the Fishing Creek Confederacy—the biggest wild goose chase of the American Civil War.
We typically think of the Civil War as a battle between North and South. However, from a political party standpoint, that division isn’t quite as clear-cut.
Did you know there were four major candidates in the Presidential Election of 1860?
Grant (1:14) – I did not. I did not. I know Lincoln and…what’s his name? The main guy. The guy who lost to Lincoln. I’m gonna need your help here, Tim.
Tim (1:26) – Well, we’ll jump into it. So, going into the Democratic National Convention, Illinois Senator Stephen A. Douglas…
Grant (1:34) – Stephen Douglas.
Tim (1:35) – That’s the guy! So, he was projected to secure the party’s presidential nomination, and he was a proponent of popular sovereignty—which was the political doctrine that allowed residents of western territories to decide, democratically, whether to allow or prohibit slavery. He authored the 1854 Kansas-Nebraska Act, which effectively repealed the legal precedent set by the Missouri Compromise of 1820. And that Missouri Compromise established the 36-30 parallel as the dividing line between slave states and free states.
But popular sovereignty was not a full-fledged endorsement for slavery’s unhindered expansion into the West. And Douglas’ relatively soft stance drew the ire of radical Deep South Democrats—and they were called fire-eaters—who threatened secession in the absence of more stringent slave codes.
The DNC assembled in Charleston, South Carolina, between April 23 and May 3, 1860. Throughout the convention, staunch secessionists fearmongered their colleagues, decrying “northern violence” and the Republicans’ intention to forcibly emancipate African Americans. Douglas refused to entertain such rhetoric, thinking it would alienate moderate Democrats in the North and Midwest. As a result, fifty fire-eaters walked out, protesting Douglas’ platform. The Democrats issued 57 ballots during the convention; each time, Douglas failed to achieve the two-thirds majority necessary for the party’s official endorsement.
Grant (3:05) – Wow.
Tim (3:07) – So, they left and there was no candidate. They reconvened in Baltimore, Maryland, in June 1860. This time, 110 delegates walked out of the convention, and the remaining members elected Douglas as their nominee. Those dissenting Democrats formed their own faction—called the Seceders’ Convention—and appointed then-Vice President and Kentucky native John Breckinridge. So all this contentious infighting and sectionalism had fractured the Democratic Party.
And then there was John Bell. Do you know who John Bell is?
Grant (3:39) – The name rings a bell, but no, just kidding. Yeah, I don’t…
Tim (3:43) – John Bell—he was the candidate for the Constitutional Union Party. So, allow me to bring Mr. Bell out of historical obscurity here for a second. He was a career politician from Tennessee who, to put it lightly, had commitment issues. He was originally a Jacksonian Democrat, first elected to the House of Representatives in 1827. He won seven consecutive terms, and even served as Speaker of the House from 1833 – 1835, beating out future president James Knox Polk for the position. So he was pretty popular.
However, after the Election of 1836, Bell switched his affiliation to the Whig Party. When fellow Whig William Henry Harrison ascended to the presidency in 1840, Bell was appointed Secretary of War. Unfortunately, Harrison died one month into his term, and Bell resigned from his position shortly after John Tyler took office.
In 1847, Bell was elected to the Senate, where his allegiances varied between the Whigs, Opposition, and Know-Nothing parties.
Although a slaveholder himself, Bell refuted slavey’s expansion into the West. He was the only senator from a southern state who opposed the Kansas-Nebraska Act, and he later voted against Kansas’s admission to the Union as a slave state.
In 1860, Bell became the presidential nominee for the newly-formed Constitutional Union Party. Edward Everett—the President of Harvard and former Whig governor of Massachusetts—served as his vice presidential running mate.
Constitutional Unionists endorsed “no political principle other than the Constitution” and maintained a rather ambiguous view on the hot-button issue of slavery. Their slogan was "No North, no South, no East, no West. Nothing but the Union.” It was an attempt to counter the partisan, sectional politics of the day, which fell flat across the board.
Bell ended up receiving 12.5% of the popular vote, and carried the states of Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee, which equated to about 13% of the electorate.
Grant (5:41) – The border states, though, which is kind of interesting.
Tim (5:44) – Yeah, and for a third-party, that’s a pretty substantial chunk.
Grant (5:47) – Yeah, that’s not bad, not at all. No, no. Very interesting.
Tim (5:51) – And finally, we have your winner of the 1860 Presidential Election: Republican candidate Abraham Lincoln.
Grant (5:55) – Good ole Abe Lincoln.
Tim (5:57) – So Lincoln received 180 electoral votes, which was about 59.5%, but he only garnered 39.8% of the popular vote. The Republican Party’s platform denounced the expansion of slavery as a “dangerous political heresy” that directly contradicted the vision of the Founding Fathers. Lincoln himself supported free soil and containment policies, but did not initially endorse immediate emancipation like many “radical” Republicans. Nevertheless, many Democrats viewed Lincoln’s election as a segue for abolitionist policies and racial equality.
Although the state of Pennsylvania voted Republican in 1860, it had voted Democrat during three of the last four election cycles, and many counties in central and western Pennsylvania, like Columbia County, remained strong supporters of the Democratic Party. The majority of eligible voters in these counties were working-class white males, who labored as miners, mechanics, and lumbermen. From their perspective, the existence of slavery was inconsequential to their livelihoods, and it was not the place for the federal government to interfere in what was considered a states’ rights issue.
During the Secession Crisis, political discord became increasingly partisan and hyperbolic. While many northern democrats viewed southern secession as unconstitutional and reluctantly supported military intervention, a faction of anti-administration, antiwar advocates wanted to mitigate conflict at any cost. That included codifying slavery’s expansion or allowing peaceful separation. Republicans labeled these so-called Peace Democrats “Copperheads”—poisonous snakes of American democracy.
After the firing on Fort Sumter, President Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers to enlist in the Union Army, hoping to quash the insurrection in ninety days. Despite the ongoing political rancor, most Northerners united against the rebellion, riding an upswell of patriotism. Levi Tate, a staunch Democrat and longtime newspaper editor for the Columbia Democrat, reported: “Now that war has commenced—no matter who is at fault—it is the duty of all our citizens, irrespective of party, to stand by the old flag, with its glorious stars and stripes, and support the Government in all proper and legitimate efforts to bring the contest to a successful issue…it becomes the duty of every patriot to lend his aid in sustaining the honor and glory of our common country.”
However, the Confederate States proved to be formidable adversaries. As months of conflict turned into years, the patriotic fervor and romanticism of war began to dwindle. Federal authorities found recruitment efforts increasingly difficult to satisfy.
On July 17, 1862, President Lincoln signed the Militia Act into law. This legislation required all able-bodied male citizens, ages 18-45, to enlist in state militias and permitted African Americans to serve in the U.S. armed forces.
Each state was given a volunteer quota proportional to its population, as prescribed by Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. If a state failed to satisfy their quota, governors were authorized to institute a special draft from the militia rolls to make up the difference.
Grant (9:15) – You know, something I always think is interesting, too, with the constitutionality and the argument of—and how that relates to slavery…you know, the Dred Scott decision, which I’m sure you know of, it’s one of the most wrongful but also famous Supreme Court decisions. It really hinges on—I’m forgetting which amendment it is off the top of my head, but—the right to life, liberty, pursuit of happiness, and the right to…unlawful seizure of property. What the decision did is it turned the wording on its head, and instead of providing that slavery unconstitutionally deprives people of their life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness and property without due process, what did is they interpreted the Constitution to read that what abolishing slavery would do is deprive slaveowners of right to property (i.e. slaves). And there’s one dissenting justice who…scathing dissent just saying ‘how could you read the Constitution this way?’ But kind of goes to show, and I always think it’s just interesting how our judicial, our judges, our elected officials will interpret language in the Constitution in such diametrically opposed ways depending on the narrative that they’re trying to advance, and we’re reading the same words, but reaching such fundamentally different conclusions. It’s something that I just, as a lawyer, I always find that interesting.
Tim (10:57) – Yeah, it’s definitely up to interpretation. And sometimes the interpretation’s intentional, other times it’s unintentional. That’s just the opinion. But that’s what law is, essentially, it’s opinion. It’s opinion that’s enforced.
The threat of conscription spurred volunteering. Pennsylvania furnished over 40,000 volunteers. Another 15,000 were enrolled via state militia draft; however, these draft calls were inconsistently administered and poorly enforced.
On March 3, 1863, Congress passed the Enrollment Act—the first federal conscription law authorizing a nationwide draft. Provost Marshal General James Barnet Fry oversaw national enlistment and draft registration efforts. Assistant provost marshals supervised state-level operations. Bigger states, like Pennsylvania, were partitioned into divisions to ease the jurisdictional burden. Major Charles C. Gilbert served as the assistant provost marshal for Pennsylvania’s eastern division. Lieutenant Colonel James Vote Bomford managed the west.
State congressional districts became federal draft districts, each under the direction of a deputy provost marshal. Captain Charles M. Manville supervised the 13th district of Pennsylvania’s western division—which included Columbia, Montour, Sullivan, Wyoming, and Bradford counties.
District enrollment officers recorded the names and occupations of all male citizens (between the ages 20 and 45) and registered them in a draft lottery. However, this was a difficult task to accomplish. Throughout Pennsylvania and much of the North, many field representatives were given false information, faced verbal abuse, or physically assaulted during their rounds; their lives threatened in the name of draft resistance. Draft offices were routinely robbed and their contents destroyed.
Much like the specifications in the 1862 Militia Act, if a district failed to fulfill their predetermined recruitment quota, the draft lottery was introduced to make up the difference. If an individual’s name were drawn, they would have three options: 1) report to the district draft office for medical examination, 2) hire a substitute to take their place—and these substitutes were usually teenagers or immigrants from other districts—or 3) pay $300 commutation fee, which only the wealthy could afford.
Monetary-based military exemptions gave credence to “a rich man’s war, a poor man’s fight” and led to widespread opposition, civil unrest, and occasional mob violence, most infamously the New York City Draft Riots, which deserves its own episode entirely.
In Columbia County, residents were indignant over these controversial draft lotteries. Many felt they were unfairly targeted due to their Democratic affiliations—their draft numbers grossly disproportionate to neighboring Republican-leaning districts. Moreover, some citizens claimed that members of the provost marshals’ office withdrew the names of well-connected Republicans from draft wheels, which made these “lotteries of death" more likely to select names of Democrats.
County representatives resolved that "A war carried on contrary to the rules and provisions of [the Constitution], whether it be a crusade against slavery, or any other fanatical or delusory scheme, never can and never will receive our support.” This quote alludes to Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, which altered the basic premise of the Civil War; from preserving the union to freeing the slaves. This brooding dissent only amplified desertion rates.
In July 1863—following Robert E. Lee’s Invasion of the North and the catastrophic Battles of Gettysburg and Vicksburg—the War Department issued a nationwide call for 300,000 troops; districts that failed to satisfy their quotas were subject to the national draft. Columbia County’s quota was 634. The national draft commenced on September 17th; 618 people were drafted from Columbia County, of whom 75% evaded.
So, only sixteen people actually volunteered from Columbia County. And then, doing the math off the top of my head, about four hundred people evaded the draft.
Grant (15:11) – That’s crazy. That’s crazy.
Tim (15:14) – In response to the widespread desertion, Provost Marshal Fry ordered his deputies to appoint up to four special agents to track down and apprehend delinquent draftees—there was a provision in the Enrollment Act that allowed any person, soldier or civilian, to assume this role. These agents, essentially bounty hunters, were incentivized with $5/head—this reward was later increased to $30.
But finding draft dodgers was dangerous work. As Provost Marshal Fry recalled: “The ‘conscription act’…was regarded by the disloyal portion of the people as arbitrary and inhuman, and their passions and feelings were worked upon by the disloyal ‘press’ to such an extent that violence was frequently offered to the enrolling officer.” In the case of Richard Stiles, an enrolling officer for Benton Township, Pennsylvania, a coffin was placed at his door with an anonymous letter nailed to it; threatening his life if he continued to “drag men from their homes to be slaughtered down south.” On several tragic occasions, threats were fulfilled. Of the 38 enrollment officers were killed in the line of duty; 3 were slain in Pennsylvania’s western district.
On June 3, 1864, another state-sanctioned draft was instituted in Pennsylvania’s Thirteenth District. This time, 636 names were drawn from Columbia County. And again, the draft was met with mass desertion.
On July 22, Lieutenant Colonel Bomford was relieved from duty as acting assistant provost marshal for Pennsylvania’s western district—the result of mounting political pressure from state legislators and the War Department. He was replaced by Major Richard I. Dodge, who was not particularly fond of central Pennsylvania’s civilian population, calling them “the very worst class of beings, both native and foreign, to be found in this country.”
Now, here’s where the controversy begins.
On July 31, 1864, a mounted squadron of discharged Union soldiers—known as Lincoln’s Midnight Raiders—rode into Columbia County looking for deserters. The armed posse converged upon the home of Thomas Smith, a resident of Benton Township, but Smith managed to avoid apprehension by fleeing into a nearby cornfield.
Smith’s wife caused quite a commotion. She reportedly blew a bugle and screamed at the top of her lungs, alerting her neighbors about the presence of the armed bounty hunters.
Thomas met up with his brother, Miner, and their friend, Ellis Young, both of whom were also deserters from military service. The treasonous trio armed themselves and headed down the main road towards Thomas’s House. Along the way, they encountered the Midnight Raiders.
The posse’s leader, 29-year-old Lieutenant James Stewart Robinson—a veteran of the 7th Pennsylvania Reserves—ordered the men to halt. Suddenly, shots rang out. It remains unclear who fired first, but Lieutenant Robinson sustained a bullet wound to his abdomen. The deserters fled the scene with the Midnight Raiders giving chase. After a quarter-mile pursuit, the Union horsemen gave up and returned to their fallen comrade.
Gravely wounded, Robinson was transported to a neighbor’s wagon shed, where a local physician, Dr. John Chapin, treated his wounds through the early morning hours. He was later transferred to the home of A.N. Harvey in Huntington Township, Luzerne County.
On August 1, Captain William Silver informed Major Dodge of the circumstances surrounding Robinson’s shooting. He reported that the 13th district, specifically Columbia County, was “infested with deserters in large numbers…fully armed and declare themselves ready to resist to death.”
Major Dodge relayed the information to Provost Marshal General Fry on August 3. Dodge: “I am credibly informed that there are large bands of deserts and delinquent drafted men, banded together, armed, and organized for resistance to the US authorities…My plan is to enter one county with a force sufficiently strong, not only to put down, but to overawe resistance; to remain in that county until every deserter, delinquent drafted man, and abettor of rebellion be arrested or run out of the county. When that is done, proceed to another.”
The startling news from central Pennsylvania worked its way up the chain of command to Major General Henry W. Halleck—the Union Army’s Chief of Staff—who authorized military intervention.
The violent encounter quickly made headline news. On August 6, the Columbia Democrat reported the following: “We learn that on last Sunday morning about two o’clock, a party of nine or ten men claiming to be authorized to arrest non-reporting-drafted men, came to the house of a man named Smith, in the upper end of this county, and having effect an entrance inquired for the person of whom they were in search. They were informed that he was absent...[and] the party left on the hunt of him. It is said that the woman who was at the house rang a bell, or blowed a horn, or both upon the retirement of the Lincoln Midnight Raiders. After leaving the house they passed in a body up the road, and within a mile met three men, whom they immediately ordered to halt, with the threat to shoot them. The reply was, ‘we play that game too’ and on the word fired. One of the nine fell, the eight discharged their revolvers at the three, and then took to the woods, leaving their wounded comrade in the road. Aid was promptly awarded him, and at this writing he is still alive...we trust he may recover, and that this first, may also be the last affair of the kind we may have to chronicle…”
On August 13, 48 Union soldiers and two artillery pieces under command of Captain Bruce Lambert arrived in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania. Reports poured in that an additional 250 troops were en route.
Democrats throughout Columbia County were extremely concerned. Did the arrival of troops indicate martial law? Had the military planned mass arrests? Would these outsiders seize and destroy their property? On August 14, the citizens of Benton, Pennsylvania, assembled in the barn of John Rantz to discuss these and many other questions. While the majority of attendees expressed pacifist tendencies, a group of 75 “rebels” led by Jacob Schiltz, Edward McHenry, and Samuel Kline declared that they were prepared to combat their county’s military occupation with armed resistance.
When the Rantz Meeting adjourned, Samuel Kline performed a reconnaissance mission against the approaching Union army. Upon discovering the overwhelming strength of Federal forces. Kline and several of his co-conspirators promptly fled to North Mountain, near the headwaters of Fishing Creek.
Rumors circulated around Columbia County speculating the extent of this armed draft resistance. Local informants claimed that these rebellious citizens were actually part of a larger conspiracy: The Knights of the Golden Circle—a secret society of Confederate sympathizers and political extremists—had recruited hundreds of heavily-armed insurgents and constructed an earthen fort on North Mountain. One soldier noted that the people of Bloomsburg “told us terrific stories of forts and breastworks, garrisoned with well-armed and desperate men, to the number of four thousand. This number was said to be composed of deserters, bounty jumpers, and Copperheads, who had sworn to fight to the death sooner than submit to the coming draft.”
Grant (22:20) – Interesting though, you know, people don’t talk about the draft during the Civil War as much. And I think it’s interesting to point out how…the draft, people often associate it I guess with Vietnam, but World War II, the Civil War. I don’t know about World War I. I would say, I don’t even know if there was a draft for World War I, but…
Tim (22:43) – I don’t know how big the standing army was in World War I, because we were neutral for the longest time, and then we went to war.
Grant (22:52) – But yeah, it’s just like drafts are not—they happen many a times and, I guess…I guess thinking about it in my head, this would be one of the longest periods of time since the last draft.
Tim (23:06) – Yeah, and I think drafts were more common, but on the state level.
Grant (23:11) – Yeah, yeah.
Tim (23:12) – Because the states had the militias and that was the main military force before the federal government had a strong standing army.
Grant (23:21) – Yeah.
Tim (23:22) – And I think that’s kind of why the Confederacy was able to do what they did, because we didn’t have the bodies to prevent that. But yeah…
Grant (23:30) – And then it’s like, I wonder if there’d ever be—you’d think there ever be another…I mean, because I think about it and it’s like, I think in the Atomic Age, like America, I feel it would be very hard. I know Ukraine has a draft right now. But I wonder if America would ever have a draft again. I wouldn’t say never, but I’d be interested, like what would prompt that, you know? But anyway…
Tim (23:56) – Never rule it out.
Grant (23:58) – Yeah, yeah. No, that’s true.
Tim (24:00) – But before the Enrollment Act was passed, the draft was a state rule.
Grant (24:07) – Yeah.
Tim (24:08) – It was their duty to enforce the draft, and since they were doing such a bad job at it, the federal government was like ‘all right, we’re taking over.’
Grant (24:14) – You see, that’s so interesting. I never knew that. That’s something that I feel like…yeah, it’s just again, crazy how much sovereignty and autonomy that states had throughout history and how it really just been…the history of our country, I guess. It’s kind of a more recent development—the authority of the federal government over the states—like the last hundred years or so, this country is…
Tim (24:40) – It’s become increasingly bureaucratic.
Grant (24:43) – Yeah, yeah. Interesting.
Tim (24:44) – Takes the fun out of it.
Grant (24:47) – Oh god!
Tim (24:49) – It should be noted that most, if not all Union informants were Republican sympathizers. As additional troops continued to arrive, Captain Silver worked with cooperative citizens to compile a list of men to be arrested; many of whom were social or political rivals.
On August 16, Major General Darius Couch, commander of the Department of the Susquehanna, arrived in Bloomsburg to supervise the operation. He brought with him Lieutenant Colonel Charles Stewart and another four companies of infantry.
As a gesture of goodwill, and an effort to mitigate any unnecessary bloodshed, General Couch decided to grant deserters clemency if they reported to the Bloomsburg draft office for examination by August 20. It was Couch’s impression that “these men are not guilty in comparison to the leaders living in that section, who have taught them that the draft was unconstitutional…”
Colonel John Gosse Freeze spread Couch’s message throughout the upper reaches of Columbia County, scouting for any rebel fortifications in the process. He returned to General Couch the following day and reported that “there would be no resistance by any citizens to arrest the alleged deserters.” Claiming no imminent danger, Freeze proposed for Couch to personally accompany him during his search for the reported fort, but the general declined.
Instead, General Couch met with U.S. Senator Charles Buckalew, a Democratic politician from Fishing Creek Township, to discuss the Federal occupation of his county. According to Colonel Freeze: “When General Couch first arrived at Bloomsburg, he called upon Senator Buckalew…[and] detailed to him his dreadful story of insurrection in the Fishing Creek Country. [He] insisted that it was very extensive and dangerous, and that it represented that Colonel Samuel Kline was the leader. Mr. Buckalew’s reply was, as we are informed, he had no particular information of what occurred in the Creek region beyond newspaper statements; that he did not believe there was any general combination of the inhabitants to resist the draft; that the statement about Col. Kline was inconsistent with the character of that gentleman and was no doubt a falsehood…”
August 20th came and went. No deserters heeded Couch’s call. The next day, Couch dispatched nearly 1,000 Union soldiers to scour Columbia County for the rebel outpost.
Lieutenant Colonel Stewart began collecting information in Benton. “There are no Copperheads or armed men here now,” wrote Stewart, “they are all loyal law-abiding citizens, bringing in provisions and inviting officers out to meals, and paying us every attention.”
For over a week, Federal scouting parties were unsuccessful in their effort to locate enemy fortifications. Frustrated and exceedingly bored, some unruly soldiers directed their energies to “robbing hen roosts, trampling down cornfields, and capturing companies of hogs.”
Democratic pundits were outraged by this military occupation and gross overstep of federal authority. On August 26, 1864, the Democratic Watchmen (a newspaper from Bellefonte, Pennsylvania) read: “Fellow countrymen, do you observe the intentions of the despot!” in response to mobilization of Union troops. “Nerve yourselves with valor! Arm yourselves for fight! Prepare for the bitter end! Better let the fertile soil of your valleys be drenched with your blood; better to die amid the smoldering ruins of your cities, towns and dwellings, better to rend the heavens with your dying shrieks and groans, than to suffer the fiendish imposter who has enthroned himself at Washington to rivet the chains of slavery upon you! Freemen the torch! Apply it to your homes – your property! Snatch the plunder and luxury from the Vandals! – Perish! PERISH! PERISH! WITH YOUR LIBERTIES!
Grant (28:27) – You know, I think that it’s—I think beyond how ridiculous that sounds, but at the same time, I think it’s a reminder that we don’t hear these stories enough, of these types of articles that were written during this time. We hear the big, glossy overview of the history, but these narratives are happening. They happened then, and I think it’s important to realize that they didn’t win the day or they might have even been the dominant thought, but they were read and the thoughts were being shared. And it helps us make sense of today when there’s just this—you’re hearing so many different narratives from so many different places, but we think it’s so novel and new. I think it’s just telling that people back then were dealing with stuff like that, too.
Tim (29:28) – Yeah.
Grant (29:30) – We’re not—you know, people generally stay the same. It’s the mediums and the technology that changes. It’s just cool to me.
Tim (29:36) – And we think that our current society is super partisan, like…these…
Grant (29:41) – That…
Tim (29:43) – You can’t write that nowadays.
Grant (29:45) – That’s, that’s…I hope we don’t. My God! But man, crazy stuff, but interesting. Very, very interesting. What was the name of that newspaper?
Tim (29:56) – The Democratic Watchmen
Grant (29:58) – Okay. Because there are a few publications from that time that I’m aware of. But I feel like these are just kind of those more—I don’t want to say less renowned—these are the local news. You know, the local newspaper.
Tim (30:16) – This is central Pennsylvania news in 1864.
Grant (30:18) – Yeah, yeah! You turn on your Local News 12 or whatever. This is what you’re hearing back in…crazy. Very, very interesting. Cool stuff, Tim. Very cool stuff.
Tim (30:30) – Another anonymous letter likened Lincoln to King George III, allowing the quartering of troops among civilians and inciting domestic insurrections.
Republican editors fired back, claiming truth to the organized, pro-Southern conspiracy in Columbia County. As reported by Forney’s War Press on September 14, 1864: “There are parts in Pennsylvania where the forests and the sculls of human heads are so thick that it is but seldom that the bright rays of “Sol” can penetrate the one or the rays of intellect the other. Such forests and such skulls you can find, if you take the trip to Columbia, Lycoming and Sullivan and other counties watered by the headwaters of the West and North branches of the Susquehanna. There, my dear Press, will you find the deep, almost impenetrable forests, and the equally thick human skulls – there is the birthplace of the changeling “Fishing-creek Confederacy.””
Grant (31:27) –See? Why can’t we—why don’t people, when they’re trying to diss each other, let’s use that kind of vocabulary and not these buzzwords and mean names. Let’s be creative. I like—I can respect that creativity.
Tim (31:41) – That’s almost Shakespearean, right there.
Grant (31:45) – Yeah, like what? Oh my gosh.
Tim (31:49) – On August 27, Major General George Cadwalad—oh God, I’m going to mess this name up so bad. Cad-wall-uh-der. Cad-wall-uh-der. Okay. Cad-wall-uh-der. It’s a weird name. I put in parentheses just so I could say it.
Grant (32:05) – You could even say, or be like, ‘I don’t even know...’
Tim (32:10) – On August 27, Major General George Cadwalader took command of Union troops in Columbia County. Accompanying the general were members of the 16th Regiment of the Veteran Reserve Corps, also known as the Invalid Corps—men physically unable to perform field duties who wished to remain in the army.
On August 31, after countless hours of searching and information-gathering, Union leadership issued arrest warrants for one hundred “Copperhead” civilians for “uniting, confederating, and combining with other disloyal persons…resisting execution of the draft and preventing persons who have been drafted…from entering military service of the United States.” Those arrested were brought to Christian Church outside of Benton for legal examination. No opportunity was provided for defense.
Lieutenant Colonel Stewart oversaw the proceedings and ultimately issued judgement. 55 were acquitted without reprieve. The remaining 45 were charged with disloyalty to the U.S. government. Among those imprisoned were a judge, county treasurer, state legislators, and a reverend. Only one man was an actual draft evader. The detainees were transferred to Fort Mifflin, arriving on September 2, where they remained imprisoned in an underground bombproof for several months.
The Columbia Democrat reported: “[These men] were summarily kidnapped and incarcerated in filthy bastilles, by the minions of the Lincoln dynasty, in direct violation of the laws of the United States and their own Acts of Congress, and yet, near half of their number are to-day pining their existence in those prisons of death and persecution.”
Another Democratic newspaper, The Star of the North, wrote “These victims of Federal tyranny were hurried off without any preparation, without sufficient clothing, and without being allowed to make any arrangements for the support of their families. As a consequence of this… a large section of the county is completely impoverished.”
The morning after the arrests, General Cadwalader marched his troops to the north end of the county and attempted to find the rebel fortifications. An extensive search yielded zero evidence of conspiracy. One soldier articulated: “Disloyalists are cowards…[as] soon as the excitement of bad whiskey had passed away, the mass of their force lost heart, and those men who had property to lose, who were in the ranks, suddenly became intensely loyal.”
Of the alleged uprising, the major general himself admitted: "The whole thing is a grand farce.”
On September 7, General Cadwalader returned to Philadelphia. Lieutenant Colonel Stewart became the de facto supervisor of Union troops in Columbia County.
Later that October, Stewart was replaced by Colonel Charles Albright—a staunch Republican who, according to Senator Buckalew, made “inflammatory speeches about the arrests and trying to arouse passions against the arrested parties.”
Albright’s political partisanship only grew more audacious. On October 11—the day preceding Pennsylvania’s state elections—dozens of Democratic citizens throughout the 13th District were arrested without cause. They were only released once the ballots had closed. Local newspapers were outraged by this obvious example of unconstitutional political repression.
As Colonel Freeze recalled, “[T]he military authorities were without any excuse whatsoever for continuing their occupation of the county and for holding our citizens in prison…[f]or the troops traversed the whole course of Fishing Creek…and ascertained beyond all question that there was no insurrection…And the nearer the Presidential election of 1864 approached, the more overbearing became these government officials and employees…No man was allowed to speak freely against or criticize or condemn the course the dominant party.”
In addition to arrests, Federal authorities gathered information about the Columbia County citizens incarcerated at Fort Mifflin. They obtained several dozen affidavits, a few of which we have to share.
Martha Colley—whose brother-in-law, Stott Colley, was among the Mifflin imprisoned—testified that she heard Stott’s cellmate Joseph Vansickle say to another man that if the soldiers came up, he would “blow some of their God damned abolition heads to Hell.” Another…
Grant (36:30) – You know what’s interesting to me, though? So that’s her affidavit, right? And she’s saying she heard “X” say “Y” to “Z” kind of thing? That’s hearsay. I mean…
Tim (36:39) – It’s all hearsay.
Grant (36:41) – Yeah, it’s interesting.
Time (36:42) – It’s all hearsay. None of it can be substantiated. I just find it so comical.
Grant (36:48) – It’s like ‘Huh, I wonder…’. Interesting, very interesting.
Tim (36:55) – Another witness, Thomas B. Cole, described Vansickle as “rather insane.” Huntington Township resident William Forbes spoke against Reverend Alvah R. Rutan. Forbes recalled how, two years ago, he had conversed with the reverend about a recent battle. Rutan told him that “he would like to see a ball put through Abraham Lincoln’s heart.” Forbes continued, “I either called him a tory or traitor, but do not remember which. He told me if I called him that again he would kick my ass.”
Grant (37:29) – So even back in the day, people said ‘kick my ass.’
Tim (37:32) – Yeah, it’s an antiquated term, apparently.
Grant (37:37) – Oh man.
Tim (37:39) – Many accusations centered around the Rantz Meeting, and how its attendees were secretly members of the Knights of the Golden Circle. Edward McHenry, one of the armed rebel leaders, answered to this supposition as a government witness—providing his testimony in exchange for immunity. When asked whether there was a Knights of the Golden Circle organization in Columbia County, McHenry confirmed and claimed that there were a “great many” members in the region. He even divulged passwords and hand signals used to identify fellow members.
The accused were placed on military trial in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, beginning on October 17, 1864. The cases were brought before a three-officer military commission. A fourth officer served as prosecuting attorney; civilian lawyers from the Harrisburg area and Columbia County served as defense counsel.
Colonel Albright decided to try men for which there was an overwhelming array of evidence. Due to this restrictive criteria, only fourteen trials were conducted; eight were convicted of the charges—John Rantz, Samuel Kline, William Appleman, Reverend Alvah Rutan, Joseph Vansickle, John Lemon, Benjamin Colley, and Valentine Fell; the remaining six were acquitted. Despite the convictions, the prosecution was unable to prove that the Knights of the Golden Circle played any significant role in Columbia County’s armed draft resistance.
By mid-January 1865, the military trials of Columbia County citizens were over. Those not prosecuted were simply released from their Harrisburg confinements. Unfortunately, one man, 56-year-old William Roberts, died while in captivity.
While these trials were taking place, on November 3, 1864, Lieutenant Colonel James Stewart Robinson died of peritonitis. He was buried in Bethel Hill Cemetery in Fairmount Township, Pennsylvania. The inscription on his headstone reads: ” Was shot by a rebel sympathizer in Benton Township, Columbia County, Pennsylvania, while assisting a U.S. officer attempting to arrest deserters.” The agonizing death of a fellow soldier had Union troops out for blood.
Grant (39:43) – So, I just want to make sure I heard that right. He died of peritonitis but his inscription read that he was shot…
Tim (39:51) – So he died of his wound, basically.
Grant (39:52) – Oh, oh okay. Got it.
Tim (39:55) – Like, he lingered for months.
Grant (39:57) – Oh, so this was the same…
Tim (39:58) – This was the same guy.
Grant (40:00) – Wow!
Tim (40:00) – So he was hanging on for months.
Grant (40:02) – I wasn’t even connecting that. Okay, wow!
Tim (40:05) – There’s a lot of names being thrown around.
Grant (40:06) – No, no. That’s very interesting that he…okay. So that’s the same guy.
Tim (40:09) – So he ultimately died of his wound.
Grant (40:11) – Wow.
Tim (40:13) – And so, on November 5, three soldiers arrived at the farmstead of Ezekiel Cole to arrest him for draft desertion. Cole was out hunting at the time, but his wife, Elizabeth, and 16-year-old son, Leonard, were home. Leonard was apprehended by the soldiers, and dragged to the barn for interrogation.
The questioning quickly devolved to torture. The soldiers placed a noose around Leonard’s neck and used a crossbeam in the barn as a makeshift gallows. Leonard was repeatedly hoisted into the air, where he dangled for a minute or two, before being released to the floor. Several lynching cycles took place before Elizabeth chased the soldiers out with a broomstick. The entire ordeal left Leonard was blind and unable to speak.
Thomas A. Gill, a twenty-five-year-old soldier from Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, eventually admitted that he was the one who fashioned the noose, but wrote that he merely pulled the rope with “a gentle strain.” Gill further refuted any lasting physical or neurological damage Leonard claimed to have suffered.
Federal troops remained stationed in Columbia County during the General Election of 1864. Union soldiers guarded the polls, supposedly to stop Democrats from voting, according to a local newspaper. Although voter turnout was 27% to 47% lower than the previous cycle, Columbia County still trended Democratic. The military occupation of Columbia County ended in early December.
Grant (41:33) – So even though they supposedly were suppressing the vote, it still ended up being Democratic.
Tim (41:41) – Yeah.
Grant (41:42) – So yeah, it’s like—it’s interesting because now, it just goes to show, especially in today’s day in age where all these people are commenting on voting and whatnot—but the results of the vote is kind of a barometer of which of those narratives that we’ve been discussing is having more influence, right?
Tim (42:05) – Exactly.
Grant (42:06) – I think that’s one of the more—it’s one of those aspects of voting that I think people sometimes…I think it’s implied, it’s subconscious, but it’s not always spoken about enough, which is that it’s a good barometer for the narrative that is dominating the day beyond what’s on the ground—what’s happening, the reality. The narrative helps mold reality. The reality helps mold the narrative. But the vote is always kind of a nice barometer, and I think that’s one of the biggest values of voting, democracy, anything. It just helps ground your understanding of the narratives of the age. But that’s just me.
Tim (42:51) – Case in point: go vote. Go vote.
Grant (42:54) – Exactly!
Tim (42:59) – In March 1865, Provost Marshal Fry dispatched an investigative committee to Columbia County to review the events that transpired there. The Federal commission discovered that Captain Manville had recorded 11,237 men liable for military service in Pennsylvania’s 13th District, when in fact the true figure was 6,685.
Grant (43:22) – Wow.
Tim (43:23) – So he basically doubled the number of available draftees. So there was some truth to having a higher proportion of draftees in that county.
Grant (43:33) – Yeah.
Tim (43:34) – Captain Manville was relieved of duty immediately after this revelation.
The War Department released the Columbia County convicts in May 1865—Reverend Rutan was actually granted a presidential pardon earlier that February.
Between August 29 – 31, 1865, a countrywide meeting of the Democratic Party assembled near the base of Knob Mountain in Columbia County. According to Levi Tate, “the object of this meeting is to revive and strengthen popular confidence in the doctrines of Jefferson [which] are now more than ever necessary to public salvation, though trampled underfoot in high places and despised by those who prosper upon the calamities of their country. The speakers will maintain that…all “abuses” in government should be arraigned at the “bar of public reason”…that State Governments should be supported “in all their rights as the most competent administrations for our domestic concerns and the surest bulwarks against anti-republican tendencies”; that we should have “a jealous care of the right of election,” resisting interference therewith by corruption or force; and uphold with our whole influence and power “the supremacy of the civil over the military authority,” and “freedom of religion, freedom of the press, freedom of person under the protection of habeas corpus, and trials by juries impartially selected.”
So pretty much, it was a meeting to relive the past year or so in Columbia County.
Grant (45:03) – Yeah. It’s interesting, too. The goals of the meeting seems grounding. It seems more just ‘let’s get everything—let’s get back to the roots of what we…’ Yeah, as you said, how it was before. It’s interesting that’s the…and this was in 1865? This was after the…
Tim (45:30) – Yeah, this was after the war had ended. This was when Johnson’s president now.
Grant (45:34) – Interesting.
Tim (45:35) – And he—he’s from the South.
Grant (45:36) – Very—yeah, very staunch Democrat. Very, as pretty much as…was this still—was this back when the Vice President was still whoever received the second—did Lincoln choose Johnson to be his VP? Was that…
Tim (45:52) – I think he did. Because he had—what was it—oh, what’s his name? Hannibal…
Grant (45:58) – Yeah, his first term he had that other guy.
Tim (46:00) – Yeah, he had a different vice president. Not Hannibal Lecter, but…
Grant (46:05) – I hope not!
Tim (46:07) – Was it Hannibal Hamlin?
Grant (46:09) – That name sounds familiar.
Tim (46:11) – I don’t know. I’ll have to look this up.
Grant (46:13) – Yeah. Johnson, I remember. He’s consistently ranked by historians as, you know, one of the…I always think, too—I don’t mean to digress but, I always think it’s interesting, too—there’s so much focus when we talk about the Civil War, 1860 to 1865 and even some of those years before leading up to the Civil War. I think one of the most understudied periods of American history that need to be talk about more—because of the opportunity that was, not wasted per se, but the opportunity for change and for progress that was kind of squandered—is that Reconstruction Era, 1865 to 1880, 1885. It’s not like nothing was happening during those years, but we just don’t hear about it enough. And it’s truly fascinating because if we had different leaders than Johnson and—what was it, Chester A. Arthur, Garfield, Ulysses S. Grant—realize how different the trajectory could have been, and again, we just skip over…and then we got to 1896 with Plessy v. Ferguson, we go to the 1890s, turn-of-the-century, 1900s—but it’s like a gap in U.S. history that’s just so fascinating as to how it kind of just set the foundation for the post-Civil War age. I don’t know. That’s just something—I always try to geek out. I always try to learn more about the Reconstruction Era. It’s very, very interesting.
Tim (47:57) – It is very interesting. And I’ll definitely be putting out some episodes about Reconstruction.
Grant (48:02) – Awesome. I’m excited for that.
Tim (48:03) – Especially, like as you alluded to, how it’s viewed as such a failure now.
Grant (48:08) – Yeah.
Tim (48:09) – And it’s because in 1876—it was Rutherford B. Hayes—they had that backroom deal in Congress.
Grant (48:16) – A lot of corruption during that.
Tim (48:18) – It was very corrupt. Which makes for a very juicy story. So we’ll definitely explore that in more detail. Don’t you worry.
Grant (48:25) – Cool. Very cool. Very cool.
Tim (48:29) – But going back to that Knob Mountain Convention, during the convention, Colonel Victor Piollet introduced the “victims of the fanaticism and persecution of the past year.” Nearly three dozen Fort Mifflin prisoners assembled on stage. The crowd responded with a prolonged standing ovation.
The controversial military response to the Fishing Creek Confederacy provoked a burning legal question: can citizens be tried before military courts? This debate reached the U.S. Supreme Court in April 1866, stemming from a separate incident in Indiana.
In October 1864, Lambdin P. Milligan and four accomplices were arrested by Union soldiers for conspiring to seize munitions from federal arsenals, incite insurrections, liberate Confederate prisoners-of-war, and engage in other “disloyal practices.” All were tried before a military commission and found guilty. Milligan and three others were sentenced to be hanged on May 19, 1865. One man, Andrew Humphreys, was sentenced to hard labor for the remainder of the war.
Shortly before the scheduled executions, Milligan’s attorney Jonathan W. Gorden petitioned for a writ of habeas corpus to the U.S. Circuit Court in Indianapolis. He claimed that the military commission had no jurisdiction over Milligan since he was a citizen living in a non-rebellious state whose civil courts were still operational.
The case was passed to the U.S. Supreme Court, which ruled unanimously in Milligan’s favor. Even though President Lincoln had suspended habeas corpus in September 1863, it did not authorize civilian prosecution by military tribunal. Milligan had been denied his 6th Amendment right to trial by an impartial jury, thus rendering his legal proceedings unconstitutional.
The decision in Ex Parte Milligan reaffirmed Democrat beliefs that the Fishing Creek Confederacy was “a mere political raid, for a little personal revenge.”
Now, that was a lot of information detailing a complex series of events. And just to recap, I’ll read a few paragraphs from J.H. Battle’s 1887 History of Columbia and Montour Counties, which provide an excellent and objective summation of events:
“On one side it is claimed that there was organized and armed opposition to the draft, that menaces and threats were used against officers in the proper discharge of their duties. In some townships, Republicans were terrorized by threats of incendiarism and assault. Officers of the law were in many instances in sympathy with the law-breakers. Military interference was necessary to restore order and enforce the draft.
On the other side it is claimed that by means of a dishonest enrollment, it was sought to compel Columbia and other democratic counties to furnish more than their just quotas. There was no organized opposition to the draft. A reign of terror prevailed among democrats, which was instituted by republicans. Military interference was unnecessary, and was resorted to for the purpose of influencing elections. Some of the soldiers sent to the county were guilty of gross outrages, and many innocent men suffered arrest and imprisonment without cause or warrant of law.
It would be a difficult matter to prove the exact truth in regard to some of these charges. It is generally admitted, however, that in Columbia county as in many other parts of the north, some of the democrats were opposed to the prosecution of the war; that a considerable number of men attempted to evade the draft, and in some places concert of action was had for that purpose. It is also admitted that the enrollment was very inaccurate, that the force sent here and the large number of arrests were unnecessary, that power placed in the hands of irresponsible subordinates was exercised in a vindictive manner.”
However, one crucial event remained unresolved: the murder of Lieutenant James Stewart Robinson.
Fast forward to 1891, when a civil property dispute in Jackson Township makes waves across the state of Pennsylvania. The two complainants were Frank M. Lutz and Thomas Smith—the same Thomas Smith who evaded Lincoln’s Midnight Raiders the fateful night of July 31, 1864. During a heated exchange, Lutz claimed Smith knew who killed Lieutenant Robinson. In an effort to get ahead of any negative press, Smith issued a sworn statement, accusing Ellis Young of the murder.
At the time, Robert P. Robinson—the youngest brother of the slain Lieutenant—was the elected sheriff of Luzerne County. Robert’s older brother, John, was the deputy. They arrested Young on March 16 and placed him in the Luzerne County jail.
Following his grand jury appearance on April 7, Young’s bail was set at $10,000. Three Columbia County residents— Rohr McHenry, A. J. Derr, and Robert S. Osman–and two men from Luzerne County (Alfred McHenry and Myron Britain) bankrolled Young’s release.
The criminal trial of Ellis Young began on September 17, 1891. Young’s defense was handled by John Lenahan and former Colonel John Freeze.
During his testimony, Young described how he had been at Miner Smith’s home when they suddenly heard a horn blow and a woman scream. They ran in the direction of the noise and met Thomas Smith, who reported the situation. All three men took up arms had walked down the road toward Thomas’s house. When they encountered the mounted bounty hunters, the shooting started. Ellis specified that Robinson’s party had fired first.
Attorney John Lenahan described the posse as “a band of lawless young ruffians acting without a vestige of authority.” Although, if you recall, there was a provision in the Enrollment Act that allowed civilians to intervene and apprehend draft deserters.
Ultimately, after several days of additional character and witness testimony, the court ruled that Young was acting in self-defense, and therefore, not guilty.
And so ends the chapter of the Fishing Creek Confederacy.
This story of armed draft resistance and copperheadism is not unique to Columbia County. There was widespread desertion across the north. In Pennsylvania alone, nearly 21% of draftees evaded conscription, which is an astounding number, and quantifies how inefficient these drafts were.
Grant (54:47) – Wow. Twenty-one percent evaded conscription, wow.
Tim (54:48) – So one in five.
Grant (54:51) –And that’s not including people who had the means to buy their way out. That’s just people who were ordered to draft and they just…
Tim (54:57) – That’s just people who…yeah.
Grant (55:00) – Man. I mean, I would love to just compare that number with other drafts that have taken place in the U.S. and around the world. Just to try to see…I wonder—I feel like that’s a study that would be very interesting is the efficiency of the drafting process. I feel like I’ve never heard literature about—you kind of hear about the draft dodgers in Vietnam, some people who fled to Canada…
Tim (55:28) – Yeah, that’s the most obvious example.
Grant (55:31) – Yeah. And it’s, but…
Tim (55:33) – And I don’t think 21% of Vietnam draftees evaded.
Grant (55:35) – Yeah, and even the Vietnam draft, the rich—it was a similar type of situation where if you had the connections and the strings to pull, those people they were either able to have a medical reason out or…that same levers of power process. But 21% seems large to me.
Tim (55:56) – Pretty substantial portion.
Grant (55:58) – Wow.
Tim (55:59) – That’s another war on the homefront, too.
Grant (56:01) – Yeah, yeah. And it goes to show, too, just—the concept of a draft, you’re forcibly compelling your citizens to go to war, and it’s just—yeah, it’s one of those situations where there’s so much philosophical, political, and sociological debates that you could have about the ethical implications and the efficacy of drafts. But 21%. It also begs to wonder what level of efficiency does a nation-state need for a draft to be warranted or effective? Like 21%. Then you realize all the resources and soldiers that they had to send to the county just to administer the draft and its like—yeah, as you said, a war on the homefront. It’s interesting. What’s the net gain from this? I don’t know.
Tim (57:03) – Yeah. And I would like to highlight two of the resources I used in my research. So the first one is A History of Columbia County, which was published by Colonel John Freeze in 1883. And so I don’t think—I think it was pretty obvious Freeze’s Democrat affiliations with his quotes.
Grant (57:22) – Oh gosh, yeah.
Tim (57:23) – He was staunchly Democratic, so, definitely not an unbiased source, but it does provide some interesting first-hand perspective of the Fishing Creek Confederacy.
Grant (57:32) – Yeah, definitely.
Tim (57:34) – The second source is more contemporary. This is The Fishing Creek Confederacy: A Story of Civil War Draft Resistance by Richard Sauers and Peter Tomasak. So it’s a really well-written, comprehensive historical analysis of Fishing Creek and, not just Fishing Creek itself, but Columbia County, central Pennsylvania during the war.
Grant (57:55) – Yep. Definitely.
Tim (57:56) – You know, what the political attitudes were. All the pretext and post-text stuff that happened.
Grant (58:05) – I think what you just said, too, with those two sources—I mean, I think understanding history, right? You need that contemporary…to understand a moment in history, you need to analyze the sources and thoughts and the intellectual, the sociological—all the different factors that were contemporaneous with that time, right? Because how else could one even have an understanding of what was happening? At the same time, as time goes on, and you—I’d say the more time that passes an event—first, less is at stake, right? To have an objective analysis of it, generally, you’re not gonna ruffle as many feathers as you would if you had that same objective analysis in the moment. And you also have that historical clarity of just seeing how these different actions, the effects of the over time. So I think, you know, going off of what you were saying, the whole premise of just understanding history through narratives, I think it’s really beneficial especially with events that happened over 150 years ago. You read the sources at the time, and then you also have these sources later on, and through that blend is where you get a better sense of the truth. Because if you try to just understand everything as it’s happening in the moment, there’s no—you have no idea of how—the consequences of it. You have no anchor. There’s nothing grounding you. It’s just—you’re like a ship and the waves are just bashing you side-to-side, but as years go on, you kind of have that anchor, you’re steadied a little bit, and you can figure out which to—how to maneuver—the effects of all these waves bashing against you. It’s just fascinating. Some people argue there’s no better source of history than the boots on the ground, the autobiography, the biography, but…at the same time, as you said, they’re all gonna be biased because there’s a personal stake. There’s so much risk, or there’s so much implication as to what you’re doing. It’s just fascinating stuff. It’s stuff that I feel like people should just always be reminded of, especially in today’s—we have too much information to even make sense of what…
Tim (1:00:30) – So much information. And I don’t think people realize just all the bias that is there.
Grant (1:00:34) – Yeah! Everything.
Tim (1:00:36) – They’ll just take it at face value. That’s the truth.
Grant (1:00:38) – And I think it goes to show just anything that’s trying to give a contemporaneous understanding of the moment—at the moment at which it is giving that understanding—is going to be inherently biased, you know? It’s really—history helps you make sense of things that if you were to only try to review the sources or the information that’s happening at that moment, you’d never get that clarity. You’d never. It would just seem like ‘How does this result in that? I have no idea. Blah, blah, blah.’ But really, really cool stuff. I love how you’re using all these different sources, especially beyond just Democrat, Republican. And even today’s day in age: Democrat, Republican. But also just more recent history, history at the time. I think we need to just…
Tim (1:01:29) – There’s layers. There’s layers to this.
Grant (1:01:31) – It’s infinite. Yeah, exactly! And that’s what history is. It’s all narratives. It’s just layers of narratives over time. We can carve people up into as many differences as we want, but time, we’re all subject to that.
Tim (1:01:47) – Oh yeah.
Grant (1:01:48) – It’s fascinating stuff.
Tim (1:01:50) – Well, the Fishing Creek Confederacy occurred pretty far behind Union lines, but do you know where the northernmost action of the American Civil War took place? Find out on the next episode of the American Narrative: Histories of a Nation.
SOURCES
Baillie, W. M., “THE FISHING CREEK CONFEDERACY.” Columbia County Historical and Genealogical Society.
Clearfield Republican. November 30, 1864. Retrieved from the Library of Congress.
Columbia Democrat and Bloomsburg General Advertiser. August 6, 1864. Retrieved from the Library of Congress.
Drago, Elliott. “A significant office.” Jack Miller Center. November 8, 2022. https://www.jackmillercenter.org/article/a-significant-office
Democratic Watchman. August 26, 1864. Retrieved from the Pennsylvania Newspaper Archive.
Freeze, John Gosse. A History of Columbia County, Pennsylvania: From the Earliest Times. Elwell & Bittenbender, 1888.
McClure, John. “United States Presidential Election of 1860.” Retrieved from Encyclopedia Virginia. https://encyclopediavirginia.org/entries/united-states-presidential-election-of-1860
Pennsylvania Writers’ Project Work Projects Administration, ed. “THE FISHING CREEK CONFEDERACY.” In Pennsylvania Cavalcade, 222–31. University of Pennsylvania Press, 1942.
Sandow, Robert M.. Deserter Country: Civil War Opposition in the Pennsylvania Appalachians. Fordham University Press, 2009.
Sauers, Richard A., and Peter Tomasak. The Fishing Creek Confederacy: A Story of Civil War Draft Resistance. University of Missouri Press, 2012.
Shankman, Arnold. “Draft Resistance in Civil War Pennsylvania.” The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography 101, no. 2 (1977): 190–204.
“The Fishing-Creek Confederacy – Copperheadism in Columbia, Lycoming and Sullivan Counties.” Forney’s War Press, September 14, 1864, p. 4
University of California at Santa Barbara. The American Presidency Project. Statistics of the 1860 Presidential Election. https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/statistics/elections/1860