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Confederate colonel’s files find safe haven
By DANIEL BROWNSTEIN
dbrownstein@islandpacket.com
A suitcase containing the life of a Confederate commander was shuttled between attics and basements for decades, the papers inside becoming fragile and yellow, closer to peril with each passing year and hand.
Not even its owner, a Manhattan lawyer, took a serious interest in the scrapbook and files of Lt. Col. Benjamin Franklin Eshleman, leader of the famed Washington Artillery, until he retired about 15 years ago.
“When I read through them, I realized that they give you a very unique glimpse into what motivated these people and how they dealt with their lives after the Civil War,” said Jack Castles, whose grandfather married Eshleman’s daughter.
After years in transit, the collection is in the public domain, preserved indefinitely inside the climate-controlled, rare books vault at the University of South Carolina Beaufort South Campus, thanks to Castles’ recent donation.
Eshleman’s letters, notes, clippings and mementos could provide historians rare insight into how former Confederate commanders coped with returning to a country they had fought so hard to leave. Records during the war were plentiful, but there are holes in the difficult years that followed, especially on the losing side, said Ron Bridwell, a historian and appraiser in Columbia.
“Most of the material is post-war, and it really shows a dedicated Confederate officer trying to preserve the memory and traditions of his unit, which of course was really famous,” he said.
The New Orleans unit, part of the Army of Northern Virginia, was involved in epic battles spanning four years, from the beginning of the war until the final surrender at Appomattox.
Eshleman — who commanded the 350 or so men armed with Napoleon cannons — fired shots signaling the opening of the Rebels’ charge at Gettysburg.
Because he was known as a by-the-book officer, he is considered a relatively unbiased source.
Until his personal records were turned over to the university, little was known about him, other than he left West Point as a young man to fight for the South.
“I know the unit, I don’t know the man,” said Bob Zabawa, a member of the Lowcountry Civil War Roundtable and longtime antebellum collector. “From what I can find out, he’s seen as someone to hold up as a paragon of the unit.”
Eshleman was born in Pennsylvania, but grew up in New Orleans, where he returned after the war to become a successful businessman.
He also spent those years helping mark where his unit had been on maps so battlefields could be properly preserved. Without hostility, he and others struggled to sort out positions and remember who gave the orders, all for the sake of an accurate record.
Now Eshleman’s papers offer another opportunity to make the record stronger.
One handwritten letter in the collection finds a commander saying goodbye to his men at the end of the war, remarking on their gallantry in the field.
“It illustrates the feeling when these men realized that it was all over and they were going home, not to the Confederate States of America, but to the United States of America,” Bridwell said.
“I’m sure it was quite hard to swallow.”
By DANIEL BROWNSTEIN
dbrownstein@islandpacket.com
A suitcase containing the life of a Confederate commander was shuttled between attics and basements for decades, the papers inside becoming fragile and yellow, closer to peril with each passing year and hand.
Not even its owner, a Manhattan lawyer, took a serious interest in the scrapbook and files of Lt. Col. Benjamin Franklin Eshleman, leader of the famed Washington Artillery, until he retired about 15 years ago.
“When I read through them, I realized that they give you a very unique glimpse into what motivated these people and how they dealt with their lives after the Civil War,” said Jack Castles, whose grandfather married Eshleman’s daughter.
After years in transit, the collection is in the public domain, preserved indefinitely inside the climate-controlled, rare books vault at the University of South Carolina Beaufort South Campus, thanks to Castles’ recent donation.
Eshleman’s letters, notes, clippings and mementos could provide historians rare insight into how former Confederate commanders coped with returning to a country they had fought so hard to leave. Records during the war were plentiful, but there are holes in the difficult years that followed, especially on the losing side, said Ron Bridwell, a historian and appraiser in Columbia.
“Most of the material is post-war, and it really shows a dedicated Confederate officer trying to preserve the memory and traditions of his unit, which of course was really famous,” he said.
The New Orleans unit, part of the Army of Northern Virginia, was involved in epic battles spanning four years, from the beginning of the war until the final surrender at Appomattox.
Eshleman — who commanded the 350 or so men armed with Napoleon cannons — fired shots signaling the opening of the Rebels’ charge at Gettysburg.
Because he was known as a by-the-book officer, he is considered a relatively unbiased source.
Until his personal records were turned over to the university, little was known about him, other than he left West Point as a young man to fight for the South.
“I know the unit, I don’t know the man,” said Bob Zabawa, a member of the Lowcountry Civil War Roundtable and longtime antebellum collector. “From what I can find out, he’s seen as someone to hold up as a paragon of the unit.”
Eshleman was born in Pennsylvania, but grew up in New Orleans, where he returned after the war to become a successful businessman.
He also spent those years helping mark where his unit had been on maps so battlefields could be properly preserved. Without hostility, he and others struggled to sort out positions and remember who gave the orders, all for the sake of an accurate record.
Now Eshleman’s papers offer another opportunity to make the record stronger.
One handwritten letter in the collection finds a commander saying goodbye to his men at the end of the war, remarking on their gallantry in the field.
“It illustrates the feeling when these men realized that it was all over and they were going home, not to the Confederate States of America, but to the United States of America,” Bridwell said.
“I’m sure it was quite hard to swallow.”