History 304: Historiography and Methods

I read John Buckless’s book Spies of the Confederacy in order to learn more about the Confederate Secret Service.  Buckless references Cloud and Conrad and briefly states that they were college roommates.  If this claim could be proven, it would establish that they had a close personal relationship years before their service in the Confederate Secret Service and collaboration on the failed plot to abduct President Lincoln.  A footnote in the book attributed this information to the 1854-1858 Diary of Horatio C. King, a Dickinson classmate and future Colonel in the Union army, which was located in the Dickinson College Archives. 

 I then went to the Dickinson College Archives and pulled out the finding aid for the Horatio King collection and found the box and folder numbers for the 1854-1858 Diary.  I read through it and took note of the entries that referred to Cloud and Conrad.  The diary mentions that they were friends and members of the Phi Kappa Sigma fraternity along with King, but does not reference the two men’s living arrangements.  In an entry about the night before Conrad and the other Phi Kappa Sigma brothers informed Cloud of his induction, he writes that “Conrad, for fear of exciting the suspicion of his chum stayed with me all night.”  This statement implies that Conrad and Cloud were rooming together.   The diary also references Conrad attending a speech by prominent abolitionist Henry Ward Beecher in Harrisburg and the fact that Cloud was a Democrat and enjoyed discussing politics.  This reference led me to question which political leanings were the most prevalent among Dickinson’s studentsand faculty in the years before the Civil War, and how the majority of the campus viewed slavery.  I also am puzzled as to why Conrad attended a speech by a well known abolitionist, considering he fought for the Confederacy several years later. 

I subsequently sought to determine whether or not Cloud or Conrad were, in fact, roommates.  I asked Debbie in the archives if there are any primary sources that document students’ living arrangements, and she told me that Dickinson’s nineteenth century college catalogues often listed students’ room numbers.  In order to definitively determine if they were roommates, I read through the Catalogue of Dickinson College for the Academical Year 1857, which is also in the archives.  I found that during that year, when Conrad was a senior and Cloud a junior, they lived together in East College Room 24.  Historian Patricia Cline Cohen states on page 349 of her book The Murder of Helen Jewett that “sharing beds was a perfectly common practice” for single nineteenth century men, especially those rooming together.  This piece of contextual information implies that Cloud and Conrad may have shared a bed at Dickinson.  (http://books.google.com/books?id=tbNBRL-llnIC&pg=PA349&dq=roommates+bed+sharing+nineteenth+century&hl=en&ei=kAN1TbTaKsL48Aau7ayGDw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CD8Q6AEwAA#v=snippet&q=bed%20sharing&f=false) 

I am also curious about whether upperclassmen were allowed to select their own roommates.  If they did, it would lend more credence to the theory that they were very close friends.  Regardless, as roommates and fraternity brothers, they likely developed a close relationship years before the outbreak of the Civil War, which lends a different perspective to the narrative of their collaboration on the attempted Lincoln abduction.  I am intrigued as to whether Conrad recruited Cloud to join the Confederate Secret Service, or whether he joined on his own and coincidently crossed paths with his old friend. 

A historical tour of Civil War Carlisle should definitely include a stop at East College, where the tour guide could discuss Cloud and Conrad.  They could describe their role in the Confederate Secret Service and the plot to abduct Lincoln in 1864.  They would then explain the fact that they roomed together in East College and give certain details of their time at Dickinson, such as their involvement in Phi Kappa Sigma and Belles Lettres.

Bibliography:

Bakeless, John. Spies of the Confederacy.  New York: J.P. Lippincott Company, 1970.

King, Horatio Collins. Diary 1854-1858. MC 1999.9, Horatio Collins King Family Papers, Archives and Special Collections, Dickinson College, Carlisle, PA.

“Junior Class.” Catalogue of Dickinson College (1857-1858).

“Senior Class.” Catalogue of Dickinson College (1857-1858).

Cohen, Patricia Cline. The Murder of Helen Jewett. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1999.

My first visit to the Dickinson College Archives in the course of my research met with a good amount of success.  The tales of A.G. Curtin’s release of soldiers and Deems’ request to a Confederate officer have been made much clearer now that I have read many of the primary sources.  Specifically, minutes from a meeting of the College’s trustees from June 24, 1863 confirmed the anecdote stating that Dickinson students in the service of the Union Army were released from service and returned to school.

Once I had validated this story, I was interested in understanding the motivation behind the students’ release.  A closer reading of the minutes revealed that the college sent a request for their release that was obliged by the Governor.  After confirming my facts, I wanted to take the research a step further and see if the correspondence between the then-president of the college, H.M. Johnson, and Governor Curtin was still in existence.  Fortunately, the College Archive had their original letters, and the order of release signed by the governor himself.  The students that were released had enlisted to defend the

Order to Release Dickinson Students - Courtesy of the Dickinson College Archives

Pennsylvania border when Confederate invasion seemed imminent.  Nearly all of these students were minors (15 or 16 years old) from other states and had neglected to inform their families of their enlistment.  Without these students, the college could not remain open because of the expected neglecting of tuition payments.  Therefore, H.M. Johnson appealed to Governor Curtin’s status as an alumni and asked that he take these factors into consideration and hasten the students’ return to campus.  I plan to consult local newspapers and image collections to see if I am able to place more of a clear identity on these returned students and perhaps note any engagements they may have taken part in.

In the course of researching this information, I came across another letter in the archives’ card catalog.  This letter, however, was written by the son of H.M. Johnson, Theodore.  It was listed as containing information pertaining to the occupation of Carlisle and I figured that it would be worth reading to create historical context.  In serendipitous fashion, the letter actually explained how the college was spared during the occupation.  It fell into line

Letter Referencing Masonic Signs - Courtesy of the Dickinson College Archives

with my notion that the story of C.F. Deems was, in fact, apocryphal.  According to Theodore Johnson, the college was spared because his father “threw” a masonic sign at the commander of the Confederate forces and the two initiated a mutually beneficial relationship in which the college was spared in exchange for supplies.

I plan to further my research through photographic archives to paint a clearer picture of who all of the aforementioned individuals were.  I am particularly interested in the masonic Confederate colonel referred to as “Wilson,” and his role in the occupation.  Also, I am asking myself if the students that went to fight actually engaged in any combat.  I will attempt to determine this through resources and databases such as alumni records, newspapers and the American Civil War Research Database.

Sources:

Dickinson College Board of Trustees, Executive Committee. Minutes, 24 June 1863. Record Group 1/2, Board of Trustees (1833-1879), Archives and Special Collections, Dickinson College, Carlisle, PA.

H.M. Johnson, Carlisle to Governor A.G. Curtin, Harrisburg, 15 September, 1862. Record Group 2/6, Office of the President, H.M. Johnson, Archives and Special Collections, Dickinson College, Carlisle, PA.

Theodore M. Johnson, East Millsboro to James Henry Morgan, Carlisle, 20 February, 1933.  Papers of James Henry Morgan, 1918-1928, Archives and Special Collections, Dickinson College, Carlisle, PA.

Courtesy of National Archives

Last week a story broke about a researcher who had altered a Lincoln document in the National Archives and somehow managed to avoid detection for more than a decade (See video, New York Times report, and some angry blog posts by Holzer, Simpson and Wittenberg).  I’ve met this man (Thomas Lowry) and know his work.  In fact, I have used his stuff in my own books and have praised him in at least one review essay.  It’s a sad spectacle to be sure,  but one that especially unsettles me now as I am about to send out a group of history majors into local archives for a research project involving Civil War-era Carlisle.  Do I need to remind them not to steal things or deface documents?  Should I warn the librarians?  It’s one thing to lecture students about plagiarism, but quite another to try to convey to them the sacred nature of archival collections within the historical profession.  Sometimes it feels like we pray not with bibles but with manuscripts.  The reading room is our temple.  And now there is a story about a new apostate.  Of course, there have been many others before Lowry.  Just a couple of weeks ago, a former student assistant at the Drew University United Methodist Archives (William Scott) pleaded guilty in US District Court to stealing and selling historic documents while he was an 18-year-old working in the collection.   The fact that Tom Lowry could sneak a pen into the National Archives and change the date on a Lincoln pardon from April 14, 1864 to April 14, 1865 (the last day of the president’s life) and that some freshman at Drew could basically have unsupervised reign over thousands of invaluable documents (including Lincoln letters) only underscores the dark, little secret of these historical temples.  They may be sacred, but they’re not very secure.  Archivists juggle many problems, not the least of which is a perpetual lack of funds.  Most of their enforcement mechanism is built upon trust.  And while most historians tend not to care so much about money, they also rarely follow rules and they can be careless.  I’ve carried pens into reading rooms –by accident.  Sometimes I’ve forgotten the required white gloves or jumbled the folders in the manuscript boxes as I rushed off to my next research conquest.  So, in the spirit of humility and feeling chastened for my profession, here are my latest tips to my students:

1)  When you go to archives, find out the rules for handling materials.

2)  Follow those rules.

3)  And when you leave, try to remember that you are exiting a place of worship.