Blue vs Gray

Category: Union

  • The Forgotten Sergeant: Adolph Olivia of the 95th New York

    The Forgotten Sergeant: Adolph Olivia of the 95th New York

    I wasn’t planning on uncovering a piece of Civil War history that day.

    I had taken one of my dogs to the vet just for a routine visit. While I waited, I remembered hearing there was a really old cemetery nearby. I had a little time to kill, so I figured I’d check it out. Don’t worry my dog did not leave the car and I was right next to the car while it was blasting the AC before anyone comes after me! Back to the story…. I expected a few moss-covered stones, maybe a Revolutionary War-era grave or two. What I didn’t expect was to stumble across the resting place of a Union Army sergeant.

    “Adolph Olivia, Sergeant, Co. G, 95th Reg’t N.Y.V., Died March 1888.”

    The stone stood tall and sharp one of those beautiful zinc “White Bronze” markers. I assume this was a replacement headstone, but I snapped a photo and went home wondering: Who was this man? What was his story? How can I give this man the honor he deserves?

    Turns out, it was a story worth telling.

    From Paris to the Potomac

    Adolph Olivia was born Adolphe Antoine Olivie in 1842 in Paris, France. Like many immigrants in the 19th century, he crossed the Atlantic in search of something better and settled in New York. In November 1861, with the Civil War raging, Olivia enlisted in Company G of the 95th New York Volunteer Infantry also known as the Warren Rifles.

    And he didn’t enlist as a private. He mustered in directly as a Sergeant which was rare for new recruits. Whether due to prior experience or pure leadership potential, Olivia was given immediate responsibility.

    Baptism by Fire

    The 95th New York trained through the winter of 1861–1862 and headed to Washington, D.C., by spring. They were first assigned to the defenses of the capital but quickly joined the fighting in Virginia.

    Their first major engagement came at the Second Battle of Bull Run in August 1862, where the 95th suffered heavy losses. 113 casualties in that campaign alone.

    The regiment regrouped in time for South Mountain and the bloodbath at Antietam in September 1862. It continued fighting at Fredericksburg in December, although it was held in reserve and avoided the worst of that Union disaster.

    By the end of the year, Olivia had seen serious combat and likely, serious trauma. It’s unclear whether he was wounded, sick, or both, but on January 13, 1863, he was discharged for disability while in Baltimore. His war was over. He had served just under 14 months.

    The Regiment Marches On

    Though Olivia returned home, the 95th kept fighting. They went on to fight at:

    Chancellorsville (1863) Gettysburg, where they suffered 115 casualties. The Wilderness, where they lost 174 men. Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, and Petersburg as well.

    They were present for the final campaign and were at Appomattox Court House when Lee surrendered in April 1865.

    By war’s end, over 250 men of the 95th had died in battle or from disease. While Olivia wasn’t there for those later battles, he was one of the regiment’s original noncommissioned officers; part of the backbone that held it together in its formative days.

    A New Life in New York

    After the war, Adolph Olivia returned to civilian life. He married Emma Nichols, and they eventually had several children: Lillie, Jennie, Viola, and a son named William Adolph Olivia, born in 1880.

    In the 1870s, Olivia worked and lived in Manhattan before moving to Hauppauge, Long Island, in the 1880s. He remained active in veteran affairs in 1880, and he even signed a petition to Congress demanding fair bounty payments for Union soldiers.

    He was, by all accounts, a quiet but proud veteran who built a modest life after a brutal war.

    A Tragic End in a Historic Storm

    In March 1888, a massive snowstorm slammed into the Northeast. It became known as The Great Blizzard of 1888, and it paralyzed New York with wind, snow, and freezing temperatures.

    Adolph Olivia was caught in it.

    According to local accounts, he became disoriented in the blizzard, fell over a fence he couldn’t see, and was impaled on the pickets. He died of his injuries soon after; a brutal and unexpected end for a man who had survived war.

    He was around 46 years old.

    Legacy in Stone

    Olivia was buried in Hauppauge in a cemetery tucked just off the road; the one I visited by chance after taking my dog to the vet. His grave is marked with a zinc White Bronze headstone, etched with his name, unit, and the year he died.

    He didn’t die in battle. He didn’t become a general. But he served, he came home, and he lived a full life after the war. And in that quiet cemetery, with no fanfare, he’s still remembered thanks to a well-preserved grave and a story that now gets to be told again. From one NCO to another, thank you for your service, Sergeant.

    Sources

    New York State Military Museum: 95th New York Infantry History

    New York Civil War Muster Roll Abstracts Adolphe A. Olivie Find A Grave: Sgt. Adolphe Antoine Olivie

    46th Congress U.S. Senate Documents, 1880 – Equalization of Bounties

    Historical summaries of the Great Blizzard of 1888 95th NY Roster (Company G), compiled records

  • The First to Fall: Remembering Colonel Elmer Ellsworth

    The First to Fall: Remembering Colonel Elmer Ellsworth

    Before Gettysburg, before Antietam or Shiloh, there was Elmer Ellsworth.

    He wasn’t a general. He didn’t command thousands. But he was the first Union officer to die in the Civil War, and his death hit the North hard.

    Ellsworth was only 24. He grew up in upstate New York and eventually made his way to Illinois, where he studied law and became close friends with Abraham Lincoln. When Lincoln was elected president, Ellsworth followed him to Washington. He wasn’t just a friend. He was someone Lincoln truly trusted.

    Ellsworth had a thing for uniforms and precision. He organized the Chicago Zouave Cadets, a flashy militia unit known for their showy drills and strict discipline. When war broke out, he raised a regiment from New York City firefighters called the 11th New York Volunteer Infantry. People called them the Fire Zouaves. They were rough, loud, and fiercely loyal to Ellsworth.

    On May 24, 1861, just a day after Virginia officially joined the Confederacy, Union troops crossed the Potomac and entered Alexandria. From Washington, a huge Confederate flag could be seen flying over the Marshall House Inn. Lincoln had probably looked at it from the White House. Ellsworth decided he was going to take it down himself.

    He and a small group of men went into the inn. They climbed to the roof, cut down the flag, and started making their way back down. As Ellsworth stepped onto a staircase holding the flag, the innkeeper, James Jackson, appeared with a shotgun. He shot Ellsworth in the chest and killed him instantly. One of Ellsworth’s men shot Jackson in return.

    Just like that, the first blood had been drawn.

    Ellsworth’s body was taken back to Washington and laid in state in the White House. Lincoln was crushed. He wrote to Ellsworth’s parents, saying their son’s death was one of the most painful events of his life.

    All across the North, Ellsworth became a symbol. His face was printed on posters and memorial cards. Some Union regiments even carried flags that said “Remember Ellsworth.” His story was a rallying cry for early volunteers who saw him as a martyr for the cause.

    He didn’t die in a big battle. He didn’t go down leading a charge. But Ellsworth’s death showed the country that the war was real, and that even the brightest and best could be taken in an instant.

    He’s buried in Mechanicville, New York. People still leave flags on his grave.

    Today we remember him. Not just because he was the first to fall, but because he believed in something bigger than himself.

    Gravestone of Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth, commander of the 11th New York Fire Zouaves and the first Union officer killed in the Civil War, May 24, 1861. Erected with support from the New York City Fire Department.

    Sources:

    Library of Congress. “Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth.” Prints & Photographs Division. https://www.loc.gov/item/2003653537/

    National Park Service. “Elmer Ellsworth: Lincoln’s Friend, the Union’s First Martyr.” https://www.nps.gov/people/elmer-ellsworth.htm

    Smithsonian Magazine. “The Death of Colonel Elmer Ellsworth.” https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-death-of-colonel-elmer-ellsworth-109492196/

    National Archives. “Letter from President Lincoln to the Parents of Colonel Ellsworth, 1861.” https://www.archives.gov/exhibits/american_originals/ellswort.html

  • The Ride That Changed Everything: Sheridan and the Horse named Rienzi

    The Ride That Changed Everything: Sheridan and the Horse named Rienzi

    Introducing Friends of the Blue and Gray.

    I’ve gotten a lot of requests to talk about the animals of the Civil War, so I figured it’s time to start a series. I’ll try to do this once a week either Saturday or Sunday. Welcome to Friends of the Blue and Gray. Let’s jump right in!

    October 19, 1864 – Rienzi comes thundering onto the field at Cedar Creek, carrying a general who refused to lose. The tide turned the moment they showed up.

    In a chaotic war, sometimes a man on a horse makes the difference, not a strategy or battle plan.

    That horse was Rienzi, a sleek black gelding gifted to, at the time, Colonel Philip Sheridan in 1862 by officers of the Second Michigan Cavalry. Rienzi had three white fetlocks, and a presence that turned heads. Sheridan named him after the Mississippi town where he received him, and the two would become one of the most iconic rider-horse duos of the war. Actually this name will change, but we will get to that!

    Rienzi carried Sheridan through nearly 50 engagements, including 19 major battles and two cavalry raids. He wasn’t just a mode of transportation, but he was a warhorse through and through: steady under fire, powerful under strain, fast when it mattered, and loyal no matter what.

    Sheridan on Rienzi, racing from Winchester to Cedar Creek. Twelve miles of urgency, one horse, and a general hell-bent on turning a rout into a rally.

    On October 19, 1864, Rienzi earned his legendary status. Sheridan had been away in Winchester, Virginia, when Confederate troops launched a surprise attack on his army encamped at Cedar Creek. The Union lines were breaking. Morale was slipping. Panic was spreading. Sheridan got word and mounted Rienzi.

    What followed was a ride that would live on in poems, paintings, and battlefield legend…. and internet blogs (shameless shoutout).

    Sheridan and Rienzi covered 12 miles in under two hours, galloping past retreating Union troops, shouting them back into formation, rallying them to stand and fight. The sheer sight of Sheridan charging onto the battlefield on Rienzi likely lit a fire in the ranks. The men turned, re-formed, and counterattacked.

    The Union not only held the line but they won the battle.

    A New Name

    After Cedar Creek, Rienzi was renamed Winchester, in honor of the town from which he launched that legendary ride. Sheridan never rode another horse into battle. Rienzi had earned that place for good and rightfully so, Rienzi was a faithful companion (one would say a Friend of Gray).

    Winchester stayed with Sheridan until the horse’s death in 1878. The general had his body preserved and mounted, and today you can still see Winchester on display at the Smithsonian, standing in quiet tribute to one of the most pivotal rides in American military history.

    The horse that carried Sheridan through nearly 50 engagements and one of the most legendary rides in U.S. military history.

    This wasn’t just a warhorse. He was a friend, a companion and a sign of hope. He was part of the moment that changed everything that day in 1864.

    Thanks for taking the time to read this. I actually really enjoy this new theme. Feel free to shoot me a message or an email if you want me to cover something specific.

    Make sure you check out these sources. Great reading!

    Sources:

    Smithsonian Institution – Winchester (Rienzi) Smithsonian Magazine – “Philip Sheridan’s Valiant Horse” Emerging Civil War – “A Horse Named Rienzi” American Battlefield Trust – “Sheridan’s Ride”

    Image credits :

    Image 1 (Color painting of Sheridan rallying troops): American Battlefield Trust – https://www.battlefields.org/learn/articles/sheridans-ride

    Image 2 (Black & white illustration of Sheridan’s ride): Library of Congress – https://www.loc.gov/item/2005681732/

    Image 3 (Preserved horse at the Smithsonian): Smithsonian Institution – https://americanhistory.si.edu/collections/search/object/nmah_439678

  • Fire on the River: Remembering the Fight for Vicksburg

    Fire on the River: Remembering the Fight for Vicksburg

    I was looking for Civil War paintings today and came across this one that really stood out to me.

    The Civil War wasn’t just fought in trenches and open fields. Some of its most intense and overlooked battles happened on the water. The fight for control of the Mississippi River was brutal, relentless, and absolutely crucial to the outcome of the war.

    This image really brings that to life. Union ironclads moving silently under the cover of night, their engines hissing, the sky exploding with fire as they face Confederate batteries dug into the bluffs above. It captures the Vicksburg Campaign, one of the most pivotal fights of the war.

    Vicksburg was the key to controlling the Mississippi. For the Union, taking the city meant splitting the Confederacy in half and cutting off a vital supply route. For the Confederates, it was one of their last strongholds in the West. General Grant knew it couldn’t be taken easily by land alone, so the Navy stepped in. Union gunboats launched heavy nighttime bombardments and ran dangerous gauntlets under fire to support the siege.

    Ironclads like the USS Benton, Carondelet, and Louisville traded fire with well-fortified Confederate positions. The noise must have been something unimaginable . Explosions lit up the river. Smoke thickened the air until the sky nearly disappeared. It wasn’t just war, it was chaos and destruction on a massive scale, which seemed to be a common theme of the American Civil War.

    After weeks of siege and naval support, Vicksburg finally surrendered on July 4, 1863. The same week as Gettysburg (the day after actually). Together, those two victories shifted the course of the entire war in favor of the Union.

    The naval battles of the Civil War rarely get the attention they deserve. But this image says a lot without needing words. It’s haunting, powerful, and a reminder that the war on the water was just as important as the one on land.