Monday, December 20, 2010

Christmas and the Civil War - Book Review #4 - Rawlings' "We Were Marching On Christmas Day"

To adapt the beginning lines of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol:

"Kevin Rawlings' We Were Marching On Christmas Day: A History and Chronicle of Christmas During the Civil War (Baltimore: Toomey Press, 1996) is the best book book of its kind, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that."

The book will delight the casual and the serious Civil War enthusiast - and anyone interested in mid-19th-century American life - in a number of ways.

The book is (unfortunately) out of print, but used copies - both hardcover and softcover - can be found at affordable prices from the usual outlets (Bookfinder, abebooks, amazon, etc).

The book is chronlogical in nature:

Chapter One - "Christmas Comes to America" - describes how American Christmas traditions grew from the influences of German, Dutch, and English settlers. He describes in great detail and over several pages the introduction of the Christmas tree into American homes, but also Saint Nick, carols, misletoe, the Yule log, Dickens A Christmas Carol, and other traditions.

The following chapters give a year-by-year account of the fortunes (and misfortunes) of war for both sides and how Christmas was experienced by soldiers in the field and civilians at home, both North and South. The year 1861 is interesting in that Christmas Day was a busy one for Lincoln and his cabinet as they struggled with how to reconcile the "Trent Affair." The Christmas season in 1862 was notable for two battles - Frederickburg in Virginia and Stone's River in Tennessee - that occurred just before an just after the holiday.

The final chapter - "Peace of Reunion, Goodwill Towards Former Foes" - describes the first peactime Christmas (1865) and concludes with an excellent summary of how soldiers and civilians remembered their wartime Christmases in post-war memoirs and also in fiction and of how the holiday became even more popular in American culture.

The book includes more than three dozen period engravings and photographs, many from the author's collection, and draws heavily on soldier and civilian correspondence, some from well-known sources and others - very happily - from unpublished/archival material, especially the United States Army Military History Institute in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. The author provides excellent endnotes to help other interested readers and researchers trace the source of the many letters, etc., used throughout the text.

If there are any faults with the book - and there are precious few - they include scant (but some) attention to how Christmas was celebrated among enslaved African-Americans (and, likewise, freed slaves at war's end) and a tendency to a roll of quotations (sometimes long) from period correspondence, without much interpretation.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

Thursday, December 16, 2010

A Trip Down Memory Lane - Christmas Coloring Books!

Below is the text of an essay I wrote and read at a local writer's club Christmas party a few years back. A trip down memory lane for me and maybe for you too (let me know if it is!). Enjoy!


"Drawing Rudolph"

or

“Everything I Really Need to Know
I Learned from Christmas Coloring Books"

by Jim Schmidt
The Woodland’s (TX) Writer’s Guild Holiday “Pig-Out”
December 7, 2004

Like most people, I have wonderful memories of the holidays of my youth– trips to the mall to see Santa; the smell of sausage sizzling on the stove, to be served by my great-grandmother after Midnight Mass; tree farms; favorite gifts, and more. Still, for me, Christmas always had a very practical side – it was also a career path.


It was because of Christmas, more specifically Christmas coloring books, that until my mid-teens, I intended to study to be an artist and illustrator. I loved Christmas coloring books, and when I was a kid, there seemed to be dozens to choose from - and I always chose carefully. I whiled away hours of holiday time, at the table or by the tree, with crayons in hand. The pages were filled with wonderful drawings for me to finish anyway I wanted to – and I do clearly remember a reverence that seems to be missing now.

The books inspired me to draw on my own. My dad used to bring home reams of used computer paper from his workplace. At times the pages might be filled with usual boy’s fare – tanks and planes and explosions and baseballs and footballs and whatever else came to mind – but from November to January – and sometimes past - they were filled with holiday creations.

After some practice – and unapologetic tracing - I could draw Santa on my own: not just with a red triangle atop his head like the other kids did – but with his cap jauntily flopped to the side. I could draw snowmen – not just three circles atop each other like the other kids did – but ones that might spring to life given the benefit of a winter miracle. I even crafted and perfected an open block-letter signature, like my hero Norman Rockwell’s. Once signed, the artwork would adorn the family refrigerator or be mailed to grandparents.

As late as my sophomore year in high school, I fully intended to go to art school. My high school counselor – curiously (purposely?) nameless and faceless given that he had such a profound impact on the rest of my life – did not explicitly dissuade me, but he did encourage me to take science classes as well. His gymnastic logic was that someday I may be called to illustrate a chemistry textbook – and what would I do if I had never taken chemistry?

Perhaps it’s better that in time science did replace art - a portfolio of portraits of Santa and snowmen and Baby Jesus may not have been enough to secure a spot in a prestigious art school – probably not even the ones advertised on the inside covers of matchbooks.

Nevertheless, all of those holidays spent with crayons and coloring books still yield dividends. Just last year, late in December, a co-worker needed a large picture drawn of a reindeer so that her son’s fourth-grade class could play “pin-the-nose on-Rudolph” at their holiday party. Whether she asked or I volunteered, I can’t really recall. I do remember – can’t forget is a better way to say it - the sense of anticipation as we unrolled a large piece of brown paper to begin the project.

With a page torn from a coloring book as a guide, and a purposely-dulled #2 pencil as a tool, I began to sketch with large, lightly drafted lines, erasing and redrawing as necessary to fix proportions. No crayons were at hand, but a search of our own desks, and a quick raid of the secretary’s, yielded markers of the required colors. We traced the outline carefully (since anxiety necessarily attends permanence). The project done, I was reluctant to yield the masterpiece – by all rights it belonged on my mom’s refrigerator – but my patron, who had rewarded me with smiles and gratitude out of proportion to the work, had a more practical –and important - use.

Last year’s episode still sits before me: a nostalgia sundae topped with Rudolph’s cherry-red nose. To scratch the itch, I searched for a good Christmas coloring book this past weekend, but without success. I went from store to store – names aren’t necessary as they are all guilty – and found only a few. I immediately disqualified the “Barbie,” “Bob the Builder,” and “Spongebob Squarepants” books; when it comes to Christmas and cartoons, only “Peanuts” gets a reprieve from me.

One, titled “The Big Book of Christmas Fun” was several hundred pages long. Too big! Its excess seemed more in place in an aisle at a warehouse club – next to the gallon-sized tins of black olives and other commodities that won’t be finished. The other was less than thirty pages and was also titled “The Big Book of Christmas Fun.” Too small! Its pages were filled with dot-dots, word puzzles, and other activities seemingly intended as busy work.

My inclination to call the managers of the stores to complain was replaced by worry. Had I become Christmas coloring book snob? What happened to the coloring books of my youth? Are they lost forever – replaced by NASCAR tree ornaments and life-sized jiggling Santas?

In twenty years where there be anyone around who can still draw Rudolph?

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Christmas and the Civil War - Book Review #3 - McIvor's "God Rest Ye Merry, Soldiers"

James McIvor's God Rest Ye Merry, Soldiers: A True Civil War Christmas Story (Plume, 2006) is one of the most rewarding and one of the most confounding books I've read in some time.

The cons: it's hard to say what the author was going for as it seems to be three books-in-one...the subtitle ("A True...Story") seemingly refers to an episode on the eve of Battle of Stone's River (a full week after Christmas) in which soldiers from both sides sang "Home Sweet Home," yet he spends less than three pages on the episode and offers but a single firsthand account; the book does include a bibliography but no endnotes nor an index, which makes it hard to adequately trace some of the truly good primary source material in the book (see below); look, I love Shelby Foote's The Civil War: A Narrative, but I get gas when I see it used a source; finally, the author tends to exaggerate and hold to well-worn myths on certain points of tactics, technology, etc.

Now, for the pros, and there are a lot of them:

It's a short book, very affordable, and available in a variety of formats, and the actual book size makes it a great "stocking stuffer."

The first chapter (especially) of the book describes the increasing importance of Christmas celebrations in AMerica in the mid-19th-century and does an even better job of pointing to differences between a still-"Merry" Christmas of 1861 to a significantly changed atmosphere in late 1862, especially in the South

The book does include a great number of meaningful and relevant excerpts of soldier correspondence during Christmastime, many fittingly drawn from the Stone's River Battlefield archives and other archival/unpublished sources.

The book actually serves as an estimable summary of the Battle of Stone's River.

The human interest stories within are terrific, including a few tragic coincidences and premonitions, and I find myself wanting to learn more about a few people in the book, especially Col. Julius P. Garresche (if anyone has advice on where I should start, please let me know).

The inclusion and interpretation of wartime Christmas poetry was a real value; some of it was obscure, but even the well-known poems like Longfellow's "I Heard the Bells" are provided in their entirety and it's often the less-quoted lines that are the most poetic.

The writing and storytelling is done with grace and sensitivity befitting the holiday, the tragic nature of war, and the hope of the first peacetime Christmas in 1865.

The book is admittedly something of a "mash-up," but everyone should find that it is more than the sum of its parts. Recommended.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Christmas and the Civil War - Book Review #2 - Page's "A Captured Santa Claus"

"HOLLY HILL was a place for Christmas! Holly Hill, the old rambling Stratford homestead in Virginia, on its high hill, looking down the long slope and across the wide fields to the far woods rimming the sky. From Bob, the veteran, within a month of his teens, down to brown-eyed Evelyn, with her golden hair floating all around her, when Christmas came everyone hung up a stocking, and the visit of Santa Claus was the event of the year."

So begins A Captured Santa Claus by Thomas Nelson Page, first published in 1891 and then in various editions in the early 1900s. My own copy is a 1902 edition; a handsome slim volume with a Christmas-tree green cover and several beautiful color illustrations. the book is not terribly difficult to find and a quick search today at bookfinder and abebooks yielded many copies for less than $20.

The book is a fun Christmas tale, well-suited for children, and at about 100 pages, can be read in one or a few sittings.

When Major Stafford, an officer in the Confederate army, made a surprise visit to his family at their Virginia estate - "Holly Hill" - on Christmas Day 1863, he made a promise that he would return on Christmas the next year with an extra promise that he'd bring hard-to-find gifts for the children.
But 1864 was a hard year for the Confederacy, Major Stafford, and his family at Holly Hill as the estate was surrounded by Yankees by Christmas. Would the Major be able to keep his promise?

Thomas Nelson Page (1853-1922) was an American writer with a distinctly Southern voice. He authored no less than twenty books including several other Christmas tales. Page's nostalgic Southern viewpoint is clear in the story as ot includes some decidedly "Lost Cause" themes including a friendly exchange between Stafford and an irascible Union general and the loyalty of the Stafford's African-American slave; but the themes are not so strong as to detract from the story.

You can read the entire text - with color illustrations here.


A highly-recommended Civil War Christmas story! Enjoy!

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

What's Christmas Without Some Crass Commercialism?!

See this photo? It was taken by a co-worker of mine as her son opened up a copy of my first book, Lincoln's Labels, on Christmas Day two years ago.






















Just think: this joyful face could be YOURS! Or your FRIEND'S! Or your RELATIVE'S!

If you are looking for a unique and interesting gift for that hard-to-shop-for person, I have copies of Lincoln's Labels: America's Best Known Brand and the Civil War or Years of Change and Suffering: Modern Perspectives on Civil War Medicine I would be happy to sell, sign, and send!

Contact me by e-mail at schmidtjamesm at gmail dot com if you are interested!

THERE'S STILL TIME!
Read the reviews here:

Lincoln's Labels - "utterly original and fascinating" - Civil War Times magazine

Years of Change - "an intrepid book that makes medical topics both interesting and readable for all audiences." - America's Civil War magazine


MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Monday, December 6, 2010

Christmas and the Civil War - Book Review #1 - Stern's "Christmas Album"

There are a number of books (but not as many as you might think!) specifically about Christmas and the Civil War. Over the next few weeks I will give some highlights and reviews of relevant books in my collection.
Up first is The Civil War Christmas Album, selected and edited by Philip Van Doren Stern (New York: Hawthorn Books, 1961).

The book is long out-of-print, but used copies can be found in the usual places including my favorites: Bookfinder, abebooks, and - occasionally - on EBay. As always, prices for rare/out-of-print titles depend on condition and the inclusion of the dustjacket; a quick search today yielded prices from $5 to $60 for The Civil War Christmas Album.

Published in 1961, The Civil War Christmas Album was obviously intended to take advantage of the interest generated by the Centennial (1961-1965). The book is divided into several different sections:

PEACE - which describes the last Christmas before the war; WAR - which includes more than a dozen selections about Christmas at the front selected from Robert E. Lee's correspondence, to Raphael Semmes memoir, to the reminisces of veterans, to Walt Whitman; SANTA CLAUS IN WARTIME - which includes a few delightful fiction pieces; CHRISTMAS AT HOME - with more than a dozen selections, including excerpts from Godey's Lady's Book, Christmas at the White House, short stories from Harper's Weekly, and more; and finally and happily: THE FIRST PEACETIME CHRISTMAS.

The book includes dozens of wartime engravings showing period Christmas traditions.

It need not be read from cover-to-cover. Favorite stories can be found and read on their own, and children will enjoy the engravings and some of the shorter stories, especially.

The Civil War Christmas Album may be a bit hard to find but well worth adding to your library and holiday reading table!


Other reviews are coming but I would LOVE to hear about some of your own favorite books about Christmas in the Civil War!

Friday, December 3, 2010

"LINCOLN'S LABELS" EXCERPT - "CONSECRATED MILK"

It's the holiday season and a lot of people have been busy making pies, candies, and other desserts. An essential ingredient in a lot of that baking and cooking is sweetened condensed milk.

What a lot of people don't know is that Gail Borden introduced the product in the late 1850s and sales boomed during the Civil War! One historian deemed food technology and production so important that he named Borden among the most influential people of the Civil War!

Chapter Two in my first book, Lincoln's Labels: America's Best Known Brands and the Civil War (Edinborough Press, 2008) is all about Gail Borden and the Civil War and I am happy to offer the excerpt below.

Enjoy!

Lincoln's Labels: America's Best Known Brands and the Civil War
by James M. Schmidt

Chapter Two
"Consecrated Milk
"
(Excerpt)

"The soldiers’ fare is very rough, the bread is hard, the beef is tough;If they can stand it, it will be, through love of God, a mystery." (wartime poem)

“I am greatly encouraged to embark in the Milk business,” Borden wrote a friend in 1854. Indeed, the market and societal need for a reliable and portable supply of milk was undoubted. No one knows for sure what inspired Borden to pursue his hallmark invention of condensed milk. One story attributes it to Borden’s sympathy for the plight of the immigrant children who were without wholesome milk on his return from the London Exhibition. An admirer attributed it to the fact that his friend Borden was “so full of the milk of human kindness.” (1)

Whatever the reason, Borden began experimenting with condensed milk in earnest at his home, now in New York, until he developed a process which yielded a milk of good flavor and keeping. He applied for a patent in May 1853, but the Patent Office questioned the novelty of the process for three years. Borden, with the help of some influential scientists, was able to prove that vacuum protected the milk from the air and kept it clean while it was being condensed. On August 19, 1856, Borden received Patent No. 15,553 for an “Improvement in the Concentration of Milk.” Still, his meat biscuit patent had never guaranteed his success, and for some time he failed to secure enough money to build a plant to produce the milk.

After a chance meeting on a train, Borden formed a partnership in 1858 with Jeremiah Milbank, an experienced businessman and financier who had the foresight to trust in Borden’s eventual success. The men styled their new enterprise the “New York Condensed Milk Company,” and began to do business in earnest. With Milbank’s financial backing, local sales grew quickly, especially after New York newspapers published scathing articles exposing the unsanitary conditions of the city’s dairies. Given Borden’s record of lackluster commercial success, though one could still wonder whether condensed milk would have an appeal beyond his neighbors.

On the eve of the Civil War, Borden’s New York Condensed Milk Company was doing well. To be sure, neither Borden — nor his patron, Milbank — were enjoying a fortune, but Borden was characteristically optimistic about the future and Milbank was satisfied that he had made a good investment. The war solidified that satisfaction; from the first shots to the final surrender, Borden’s challenge was to meet an immense demand. In three months in 1862, Borden — at capacity — sold nearly 50,000 quarts of milk from his plant in Wassaic, New York; a year later he was able to send out an equivalent amount in a few days.

Still, Borden could complain, “we do not meet half the orders.” To that end, he opened more facilities in Pennsylvania, Maine, Connecticut, and his eventual flagship factory at Brewster, New York, which alone could produce 20,000 quarts of condensed milk daily. Borden’s milk was never part of the official army ration, but — as Union General William T. Sherman recalled — the commissary often supplied his soldiers with “all manner of patent compounds,” including “desecrated vegetables and consecrated milk.” (2)

A reporter for the New York Observer visited Borden’s Wassaic factory during the Civil War and marveled at the “interesting and impressive” operation, and concluded that he had never seen a factory where “so much order, cleanliness, and comfort were combined” in any like production. The entire process — from receiving milk from the farmers to sending it off in boxes was done at the factory, all “with such scrupulous regard to cleanliness, that the result is irreproachable,” the reporter wrote. A tin shop was at work constantly, producing eight thousand cans each day; the workers were all young women aged eighteen to twenty, who earned “more than a dollar a day easily.” The reporter noted that the chief market for Borden’s milk was “in the army, where it is a great blessing as you will readily believe.” (3)

“Borden’s condensed milk in cans was one of the luxuries invented at this time for our delectation and comfort,” wrote a Massachusetts colonel, who — like many Union soldiers — mentioned the “great blessing” by name in their letters and memoirs. The soldiers either asked that the milk be sent from home, received it by the graces of the Sanitary Commission, or — most often — bought it from the sutler. At fifty to eighty cents a can (a good day’s wages for a private soldier), however, it was a rare indulgence. “Only a recruit with a big bounty, or an old vet the child of wealthy parents, or a re-enlisted man did much in that way,” one soldier recalled. A New York soldier garrisoned at Fort Pulaski, Georgia, which was off limits to sutlers, remembered a comrade-turned-tradesman who would “pass through the casemates calling out ‘Borden’s condensed milk?’” Reportedly civilian sales also got a boost when word got out that First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln served Borden’s milk at the White House. (4)

Though Borden’s condensed milk was not an official ration item, it was in the Union army’s official list of medical supplies (as was his extract of beef). Surgeon General William A. Hammond declared that the milk was “in extensive use in our armies and hospitals,” and “proved most serviceable on the battlefield as a source of nutriment for the wounded.” In the hospitals, a favorite concoction was “milk punch,” a combination of condensed milk and brandy or whiskey, which Hammond declared an unmatched remedy for the low fevers which plagued the army. Even when Borden’s milk wasn’t being used for its intended purpose, it was still a valuable commodity. One nurse, determined to secure some fresh pork for dinner with her fellow matrons, remembered, “I took a can of condensed milk . . . and soon made a trade.” Another nurse, responsible for cooking for hundreds of sick soldiers on floating hospitals, recalled that when the food stores were exhausted, they broke up hard-tack into buckets full of sweetened milk and water. “Oh, that precious condensed milk,” she exclaimed, “more precious to us at that moment than beef essence!” (5)

Confederate soldiers were also treated to Borden’s milk, especially when they captured Union supplies. Henry Kyd Douglas, a staff officer to the famous “Stonewall” Jackson, remembered a memorable winter dessert of canned peaches into which he poured a can of condensed milk, all stirred with the point of his sword. “Peaches and cream in January, and furnished by the enemy, too!” he exclaimed. “I well remember the first time I went down and saw the spread table — with genuine coffee and condensed milk — my first acquaintance with it,” Howard McHenry — a Confederate soldier from Maryland — remembered of his inaugural meal as a prisoner at Fort Delaware. By war’s end, though, the treat of sweetened milk was too much for starving Rebels. “[We] shared our food until every haversack was empty,” a Pennsylvania volunteer remembered of the surrender scene at Appomattox. “The sweet aroma of real coffee staggered the Confederates,” he added, “[and] condensed milk and sugar appalled them.” (6)

READ MORE ABOUT GAIL BORDEN AND HIS SWEETENDED CONDENSED MILK IN LINCOLN'S LABELS!!


Notes

1. “I am greatly encouraged . . . ” in J. B. Frantz, Gail Borden: Dairyman to a Nation (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1951), p. 217; “so full of the milk . . . ” in G.J. Burleson, The Life and Writings of Rufus C. Burleson (n.p., 1901), p. 729.

2. “We do not meet half . . . ” in Frantz, p. 260; “all manner of patent compounds . . . ” in W. T. Sherman, Memoirs of Gen. W.T. Sherman (New York: C. L. Webster & Co., 1891), Vol. 2, p. 391.

3. Scientific American, October 29, 1864, pp. 281-82; for another wartime exposition on Borden’s factory, see also Scientific American, January 21, 1865, p. 53.

4. “Borden’s condensed milk . . . ” in M. W. Tyler, Recollections of the Civil War (New York: G. P. Putnam’s, 1912), p. 132; “Only a recruit with . . . ” in J. B. Billings, Hardtack and Coffee: Or the Unwritten Story of Army Life (Boston: George M. Smith, 1887), p. 118; “pass through the casemates . . . ” in Palmer, pp. 42-43.

5. “in extensive use . . . ” in W. A. Hammond, A Treatise on Hygiene: With Special Reference to the Military Service (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1863), p. 508; “I took a can of . . . ” in M. G. Holland, Our Army Nurses (Boston: B. Wilkins & Co., 1895), p. 397; “Oh! That precious . . . ” in K. P. Wormeley, The Other Side of War (Boston: Ticknor & Co., 1889), p. 107.

6. “Peaches and cream in . . . ” in H.K. Douglas and F.M. Green (ed.) I Rode with Stonewall (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1940), p. 23; “I well remember . . . ” in M. Howard, Recollections of a Maryland Confederate Soldier and Staff Officer Under Johnston, Jackson and Lee (Baltimore: Williams & Wilkins, 1914), p. 307; “[We] shared our food . . . ” in C. B. Flood, Lee: The Last Years (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1981), p. 18.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Games for Civil War Soldiers at Christmas!

I have posted a few times in the past few years about my abiding interest in the connection between gamemaker Milton Bradley and the Civil War (see here, here, and here).

It is especially approporiate to talk about him at Christmas. Just as millions of Americans have grown up and played with Milton Bradley games such as BATTLESHIP (1931), CANDYLAND (1949), YAHTZEE (1956), OPERATION (1965), and TWISTER (1966), so too did soldiers and civilians during the Civil War years, and Milton Bradley specifically advertised to them during the holidays. Perhaps the most interesting story is that of the "Game of Life," which was first introduced in the early 1860s, reintroduced in the 1960s, and celebrated its 150th anniversary this year!

Below is the FULL TEXT and endnotes of my article on Milton Bradley and the Civil War that appeared in North & South magazine a couple of years ago. Enjoy!
“THE GAME OF LIFE”
Milton Bradley’s Board Games and the American Civil War
By James M. Schmidt
North & South Magazine - September 2008

"We are dying with monotony and ennui,” a Union soldier wrote of the timeless enemy of the fighting man: the boredom and inactivity of camp life. During World War I, Salvation Army “sisters” and Red Cross volunteers ministered to the needs of soldiers. Just before World War II, the Army established the “Morale Division” - later named “Special Services” – to meet the challenge. Today, soldiers benefit from a special Army unit called the Morale, Welfare, and Recreation Command. During the Civil War, however, the average soldier was left to his own devices to entertain himself during the hours when he wasn’t drilling or on active campaign.(1)

Of the more sordid off-duty entertainment - which included poker or dice games such as “chuck-a-luck” – one soldier wrote home, “If there is any place on God’s fair earth where wickedness ‘stalketh abroad in daylight,’ it is in the army,” Still, others did spend their time more wisely and amused themselves by reading or playing chess or checkers. The source of many of these more “innocent” diversions was the same as it is for millions of American families today: game maker Milton Bradley.(2)

Born in Vienna, Maine, in 1836, Bradley’s family moved often, but finally settled in Lowell, Massachusetts, in 1847. Bradley completed high school in Lowell in 1854, doing especially well in mathematics and drawing. At eighteen, he apprenticed himself to a draftsman and patent agent, and worked until he had saved enough money to attend the Lawrence Scientific School, where he studied engineering. Bradley attended the school for nearly two years before moving to Springfield, Massachusetts, where he secured a position as a draftsman in a local locomotive works. When his employer sold out to a railroad in 1858, Bradley opened his own enterprise as a draftsman and patent agent. His premier client was the Khedive of Egypt, who engaged Bradley to design and supervise the construction of a custom railcar.
In appreciation of Bradley’s hard work, the Khedive presented him with a handsome lithograph of the car. Inspired by the print, Bradley concluded to learn and enter the lithography trade. He spent several weeks learning the craft, bought a press, and started his own business in Springfield. Bradley’s inaugural print was a portrait of presidential candidate Abraham Lincoln – then beardless - made after a photograph taken by Samuel Bowles, editor of Bradley’s hometown newspaper, the Springfield Republican. Unfortunately for Bradley, the future president took the advice of eleven-year old Grace Bedell, who wrote Lincoln that he “would look a great deal better” if only he would let his whiskers grow.(3)

Bradley, left with thousands of unsold prints of the now-bearded Lincoln, faced the prospect of having to close his business. To make matters worse, when the war began, Bradley’s printing press operator left to enlist. “When he left, he said he would come back with shoulder straps,” Bradley remembered years later, adding, “and so he did, but minus one arm.” Bradley – inspired by past generations who had taken up arms - even intended to volunteer himself. Captain A. B. Dyer, Superintendent of the Springfield Armory, persuaded the aspiring soldier that his talents would be better used as a draftsman at the armory than as a private in the ranks. Bradley complied, and did late night work at the arsenal as his part to assist in the national crisis.(4)

Meanwhile, at his own firm, Bradley used his idle press to print up copies of a game he invented, which he called “The Checkered Game of Life.” The game proved very popular, and Bradley sold 45,000 copies in the first year alone. Like most board games of the Victorian era, Bradley’s game was designed for both entertainment and education, and emphasized period morals. One newspaper stated that game was “intended to present to the minds of the young the various vices and virtues with which they will come in contact…and illustrate the effects of each, in a manner that will make a lasting impression.” (5)
The game was played on a board having the same number of squares as a checkerboard; the red squares were neutral and the white squares carried references to good (e.g., “truth” and “ambition”) and evil (e.g., “idleness” and “crime”). Players started at “Infancy” with the object of the game being the first player to reach “Happy Old Age” while avoiding “Ruin.” They moved colored wooden counters from one space to another, the number of moves governed by a teetotum, a six-sided top; dice were considered to be wicked and fit only for gamblers. “The principle of chance and science are so intimately united,” the newspaper’s report continued, “that any child who can read can play, and yet it is as capable of furnishing amusement to adults.” (6)

Bradley also sold “Games for Soldiers,” a set of nine “fireside” games that included backgammon, chess, checkers, dominoes, and “The Checkered Game of Life.” The set was billed in holiday wartime advertisements as “just the thing to send to the boys in camp or hospital for a Christmas present.” The games were put up in a small box weighing a few ounces and could be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address for just one dollar.(7)

Other games released during the war by Bradley’s firm – now styled Milton Bradley & Co. - included “Modern Hieroglyphics,” “Patriot Heroes,” and “What is It?” Bradley also sold a plaything called the “Contraband Gymnast,” which he described as the “most amusing toy ever invented.” Not restrained by modern sensibilities, Bradley also billed the toy as the “Comical Darkey.” Nor did he completely set aside making prints; in 1863, Bradley fashioned a handsome tobacco label for C.S. Allen & Co. featuring designs to appeal to patriotic sentiments. The label bore the likeness of two women personifying “Liberty” and Union,” both framed in an ornate oval surmounted by an eagle with a shield. (8)

Just as Bradley had capitalized on Abraham Lincoln’s popularity before the war, he took advantage of postwar patriotism by producing and selling his “Myriopticon.” This toy consisted of a painted scroll - “a Historical Panorama of the Rebellion” – that contained nearly two dozen scenes from the Civil War. The scroll, mounted on two rollers arranged inside a sturdy cardboard box, was turned by a key so that the panorama passed across a proscenium arch cut into the top of the box, which was decorated in red, white, and blue bunting and other patriotic embellishments.

The package included a poster to advertise the performance, admission tickets, and a stirring (and sometimes humorous) text to be read aloud by the child-showman. One satisfied customer wrote the company that his family had elected him “as head of the family to recite the lecture and turn the pictures, which I do every evening.” So popular was his performance that his neighbors would descend on the house for encores. The customer added that his brother “was at the War…and says it is just as your game represents it to be” and hoped that Bradley would sell many more so “as to make it less crowded in our parlor.” (9)
(Readers can enjoy an interactive “Myriopticon exhibit here)

Later in life, Bradley devoted his energies to promoting interest in kindergarten education in America. He retired from Milton Bradley & Co. in 1907, and died in Springfield, Massachusetts, in 1911. The company he founded continued to dominate the country’s game market through the twentieth century. In 1959, Milton Bradley executives asked Reuben Klamer, a noted toy and game inventor, to come up with an appropriate game for the company’s centennial. Inspired by a copy of “The Checkered Game of Life” he found in the Milton Bradley archives, Klamer developed “The Game of Life,” which was introduced in 1960. Hasbro, Inc., acquired Milton Bradley & Co. in 1984, but kept the brand as it was beloved by generations, including soldiers and families in the Civil War.

Notes:

(1) “We are dying…” in McPherson, J. M., For Cause and Comrades: Why Men Fought in the Civil War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), p. 31.
(2) “If there is any place…” in Lathrop, D., History of the Fifty-ninth Regiment Illinois Volunteers (Indianapolis: Hall & Hutchinson, 1865), p. 126.

(3) “look a great deal better” in letter, Grace Bedell to Abraham Lincoln, October 18, 1860, Abraham Lincoln Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
(4) “When he left he said…” in Milton Bradley: A Successful Man (Springfield, MA: Milton Bradley Co., 1910), p. 12.

(5) Scientific American, September 10, 1864, p. 168.
(6) Ibid; also see U. S. Patent No. 53561, “Social Game.”

(7) Advertisement, Scientific American, December 10, 1864, p. 382.

(8) Advertisement, Scientific American, December 10, 1864, p. 382; “Contraband Gymnast” in advertisement, Scientific American, October 22, 1864, p. 271. Tobacco label in Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

(9) “in the parlor…”; “was the War…”; and “so as to make…” in Shea, J. J., It’s All in the Game (New York: Putnam’s 1960), pp. 81-82.