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The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
A new reading of Sherman's march shows how enslaved people sought to free themselves
The story of Sherman's march to the sea is often remembered for its destruction of the south. Led by the Union general William Tecumseh Sherman through Georgia from 15 November until 21 December 1864, the march began with Union forces taking Atlanta, and ended when they took the port of Savannah. Sherman instructed his forces to follow a 'scorched earth' policy, which was intended to break the civilian population's support for the Confederacy. White southerners supported the Confederacy through providing food, railroads and other goods. Sherman's soldiers destroyed everything from military targets to civilian property, raiding farms and plantations and stealing goods. But the version of the march that was popularized in the book and film Gone With the Wind doesn't tell the full, or even a partially accurate, story, despite it being perhaps the most prominent understanding in the American zeitgeist of Sherman's actions. Gone With the Wind perpetuated a narrative in which 'the skies rained death' on Sherman's arrival, though Sherman did not burn Atlanta to the ground: much of the city's destruction was from entrenchments dug by Confederates and the detonation of ammunition as they fled. In the common understanding of the march, enslaved people are an afterthought, affected by Sherman's actions by happenstance and largely rendered voiceless and without agency. But the historian Bennett Parten is adding to that notion. 'It's the moment where ideas of American freedom came into collision,' Parten said of the march. 'It was always being re-imagined. I think as Americans, continually questioning and querying what American freedom actually means is a really good practice.' In his latest book, Somewhere Toward Freedom, Parten, an assistant professor of history at Georgia Southern University, seeks to add to the common understanding of Sherman's march by presenting it as an emancipatory movement led by formerly enslaved people. 'We have certain assumptions about what claiming freedom or certain ideas about what freedom should look like, but we should also recognize that for enslaved people, claiming freedom with your feet, following the army to try to find and reconstitute it into family, searching for a sense of security – this was all some form of pursuing freedom for themselves,' Parten said. 'Offering this new perspective, and by shifting the focus on to enslaved people, free people in their experiences, offers a version of the march for a whole new generation of Americans to really understand what this moment was and to come to a new understanding of what the civil war was about and what it looked like as a conflict.' For many enslaved people, the march meant freedom, not just the destructive path of Sherman's forces. Much of how the war exists in the zeitgeist currently focuses on how soldiers or southern planters viewed the war, but Parten aims to center enslaved people, who used the moment to seize their freedom. His book makes the newly freed people's experience its sole focus, and argues that they are pivotal to understanding the true impact of the march. 'We can include others in this dynamic as well – the war becomes so much more multidimensional, it becomes so much more local, so much more personalized,' he said. 'I really hope readers come away with a different understanding of what the wartime experience might have been like. I want readers to understand just how central enslaved people were to the actual fighting.' Enslaved people were 'agents of their own story ,Parten said, and they worked to aid the Union army. They acted as scouts, intelligence agents and in other capacities to ensure a Union victory. 'I want readers to, when they approach the civil war, be able to see and identify the presence and the, in many cases, paramount importance of the role that enslaved people played in shaping the story of the civil war and shaping its outcome,' he said. Somewhere Toward Freedom opens with the story of Sally, a formerly enslaved woman who spent each night searching the Union army camps for her children. Her ritual of searching the faces of freed people who had joined the army became known and expected throughout the camps, though many doubted that Sally would be successful in her efforts. Just as Sally and Ben, her husband, had joined the Union army on their march and used that opportunity to find their long-ago stolen children, other enslaved people used the moment to free themselves and make decisions about their lives. It was neither Sherman nor his soldiers' intention to make the march into a liberation event – that was something enslaved people did themselves. As Sherman and his 60,000 soldiers marched from Atlanta to Savannah, they were joined by enslaved people who seized the moment presented to them. 'From the very start and at every stop along the way, enslaved people fled plantations and rushed into the army's path … The movement was unlike anything anyone had ever seen,' the text reads. 'Soldiers described it as being practically providential. Enslaved people did, too. They hailed the soldiers as angels of the Lord and celebrated the army's arrival as if it were the start of something prophetic, as if God himself had ordained the war and the days of Revelation had arrived.' Sign up to Cotton Capital A behind the scenes look at the Cotton Capital project, direct to your inbox for 15 weeks after newsletter promotion Notions of freedom and jubilee were popular from a religious and social standpoint at the time. People were swept up in the mood, rooted in what Parten said was a radical moment of social renewal and regeneration. Per Leviticus in the Bible, he said, jubilee was a time in which debts were absolved, slaves went free, land holdings were divided up into equitable plots. Over time, however, labor radicals clung to the term as a demand for the absolution of debts. It began to develop an apocalyptic edge, as people saw universal freedom and emancipation as a harbinger of the coming of Christ. 'It has all these competing, different elements, but fundamentally what's at the bottom of it is this really radical idea of society renewing itself in a way that is rooted to equity and justice,' Parten said of jubilee. 'Certainly, by the time that the war happens, it's used in all different types of contexts, but we should recognize that when enslaved people or others claim this idea, that's what they're claiming. We should recognize that there is a need for some form of regeneration and renewal at times.' The Union army was reluctant to have the mass of formerly enslaved people that joined them, Parten notes in the book. Many people came fleeing plantations with only what they had on their backs, seizing the opportunity to be free and figuring out what tomorrow would bring when it came. Parten describes the camps of formerly enslaved people that attached themselves to the Union army as 'refugee camps', and describes the way in which even the Union army responded to them as a 'refugee crisis'. The formerly enslaved people, who had self-emancipated, endured harsh elements, often without food or shelter, and marched up to 20 miles (32km) a day. Despite racism from Union commanders, some of whom attempted to prevent them from staying with the army, they persisted. 'The reason I use the term 'crisis' is simply because the presence of so many individuals forces the government or the army to recognize them and to begin taking actions to deal with these large numbers of people,' Parten said. 'The outcome is somewhat of a modern refugee story, whether or not that's how the army viewed them.' Parten said that the scale and size of the moment was remarkable to him while he was researching the book. By the time Sherman arrived in Savannah at the end of his march, Parten estimates, the number of refugees was about 20,000 – about the size of Savannah itself. There, Sherman met with Black religious leaders. He asked Garrison Frazier, who was the spokesperson for the ministers, about how the refugees decided to do what they did. While Frazier himself wasn't a refugee, he had been talking to those who were. In a way, he was able to act as a proxy for them, sharing their experiences with someone who had the power to enact change for them. 'For me, this was such a remarkable little nugget of what you find in the sources, because it suggests that the refugees, who, through the collective weight and power of their movement, found a way to essentially be in the room,' Parten said. 'They're not [physically] in the room, but they're nonetheless really doing things to change the policy of the army, the US government, and to have a presence in this meeting with Sherman and [Edwin] Stanton [Lincoln's secretary of war], who were two of the most powerful men in the country … [It] really spoke to the power of the refugees to really lay claim on this moment and what it might mean.' In making formerly enslaved people the sole focus of the story, Parten encourages readers to reconsider their understanding of Sherman's march, its implications and its legacy. Thoroughly researched yet written in a compelling, accessible way, the book offers a fresh perspective on a centuries-old event.
The Guardian
4 hours ago
- The Guardian
Dynamite, sex toys – and liver? Readers on the weirdest things they've found in a new home
Our new house had once been the home of a ferry boat captain and his family. The previous owners requested that we dispose of anything left behind. 'We're going to find a body,' I told my husband as we considered the piles and piles of things in the den, the garage and the attic. It took a year of remodelling the house before I finally got around to sorting through the sheds. There was a lot of rotting junk: mouse-eaten baseball caps, a wooden bat, old cassette tapes and a very large suitcase. When I opened the suitcase, I fell backwards and screamed. My husband and neighbour came running up the driveway. It was a body in two parts: a full head of hair, arms, hands and a torso in one half; legs and feet in track pants and sneakers in the other. Both halves wore an Adidas tracksuit. We peered inside to get a better look. She was a full-size resuscitation doll, probably used to train ferry personnel in first aid and rescue. My husband looked at me, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows raised. 'I told you so,' I said. BL, Washington, US I moved into the house in 2006, but it took me almost 10 years to venture properly into our loft. It had been partly floored already, but I needed to finish the job to create an arts studio for my studies. The loft was completely empty, or so I thought. After poking about, I found a carrier bag wedged in the roof. Inside were about 10 pairs of old, worn-out, 1970s-style Y-fronts. The discovery amused and disgusted me. One pair had a logo that said 'Half Way Inn'; another, in white, had a grubby brown colour on the front. I kept the four best pairs and put them on display in the studio. The pants would be horrible to most people, but they fascinated me and made me laugh. They were perfectly, disgustingly beautiful. A couple of years after the discovery, I started dating. My boyfriend did not understand my fascination with the pants – he is the opposite of me and very conventional. When we decided to move in together, he strongly made the point that I wasn't allowed to bring them. It was him or the pants. I did consider hiding them. Oonagh, Angus, UK My husband and I bought a property a few years ago from a couple. When we first visited the home, the wife was wearing an unmissable gold cross. She took charge of the viewing while her husband seemed relegated to the garage. After the couple moved out, we found a Bible sitting on an out‑of-the-way shelf in the garage. I flicked through it and found a folded sheet of paper with details of a prayer meeting. It belonged to the husband of the cross-clad former owner of the house. Written on the sheet of paper were the words: 'Why I am at this prayer meeting today,' to which he had scribbled the response: 'Because I always feel guilty.' Some months later, we noticed a blackbird flying in and out of the garage. It was building a nest and we wanted to see whether eggs had been laid. My partner went inside and climbed up a ladder. They had nested in a hard-to-reach corner. Next to the nest sat a smartphone. After we charged the phone up and switched it on, a ransomware notice flashed up, naming the prayer-meeting husband as the owner of the phone. Being fairly tech-savvy, it didn't take too much effort to remove the ransom notice – and we were presented with a browser page dedicated to hirsute elderly women, featuring a dozen or so photos of ladies enjoying themselves. This appeared to explain his guilt-ridden prayer‑meeting notes. Anonymous When I was in my 20s, with a newborn, I moved back to a flat my mum owned. She had rented it out to another woman who had recently given birth. They only lived there for six months, but they had made their mark on the place: their dogs had eaten the cushions off the sofa; it was a real mess. While cleaning, I found a carrier bag in the freezer that looked like a lump of liver. I'm a vegetarian, so I don't know what different cuts of meat look like. We had a dog, so we put the mystery meat outside in the back garden and he ate it. We didn't think anything of it, then two weeks later my mum got a phone call. It was the previous tenant, who said she had accidentally left her placenta behind and asked for it back. Mum didn't tell her the dog ate it – she said it had been thrown away. You wouldn't expect such an important thing to be left behind in the freezer … Melissa, Pembrokeshire, UK In 1986, I bought my first flat. While clearing out the fitted wardrobes that came with it, I found a loose carrier bag tucked underneath a drawer. I opened it up and inside was an item that I thought looked like a man's willy. I was right. On further inspection, I realised it was a used, battery-operated vibrator. I'm so glad I had cleaning gloves on. My elderly mum was with me when I discovered the bag. I said: 'Oh, that can go in the bin.' Unaware of its contents, my mum replied: 'She probably doesn't realise she's left that and might want it back. You should ring her.' After some back and forth, I showed her my discovery. She looked for a minute and then said: 'Oh good God! Your father can take it to the tip.' I shoved it into a black bag with lots of other things that needed to go. Dad never knew what was inside. Sally, Wiltshire, UK I moved into an old farmhouse with my wife and her daughter in the early 1970s. The previous owner lost his temper a lot in our dealings with him; if we said something he didn't like, he would raise his voice and put his fist up in the air. He frightened the wits out of my solicitor and I kept my contact with him as low as possible. When we moved into the house, he still had his animals and possessions in the outbuildings. When he finally took his stuff with him, I had a look around. In the dark corner of a room, lit by a single naked bulb, I found an old cardboard box labelled Nobel – the name of an explosives manufacturer with a factory nearby. I was pretty sure what I was going to find when I opened it. The box contained three or four sticks of explosives and detonators that looked brand new. I had never handled explosives before, so I phoned the police. It took them three hours to find me. When they arrived, I showed them what I had found and they said: 'Oh yes, those are explosives,' and off they went. The next day, the bomb-disposal squad arrived, in a Morris Traveller, of all things, to remove the items. One of them returned from the outbuilding with the box and a broad smile on his face. I found out later that the explosives had started to become unstable; they would have gone off with a nasty bang if they had detonated. Alan, Wales, UK In 1996, I moved into a house with my daughter. The previous owners, a couple with two children, were portly and eccentric. They left in such a rush that some things were forgotten. While cleaning out a cupboard in the master bedroom, I found a surprising item lodged on a top shelf: a flesh-coloured rubber sex suit made for two people. It was stuffed into its original packaging – after, I assume, being taken for a test run; it didn't look pristine. It was a very odd sex item. It had instructions on the front on how to rub your bits together. Vibrators are one thing; full-body sex suits are another. Given their plump stature, I wasn't sure how they would have got into it, never mind out of it. It certainly would have restricted blood supply. I left it out for the bin men, but I was worried they might think it was mine. They're always asking for a tip, but who knows why. Maybe they're after some hush money. NT, London, UK Twenty years ago, I bought a charming home, but the inside was a neglected mess. I soon found myself on my knees in the bathroom, washing around the back of the toilet, when I encountered a small, crumpled package tucked out of sight. It was a handkerchief tied around something. My heart thumped wildly. Could they be jewels? Sadly not. I unfolded it and gasped to see five long, yellowy-brown teeth filled heavily with gold. I laughed out loud with surprise and a kind of horror. The estate agent gave me a forwarding address, so I wrote a note to the previous owners telling them of my find, but I never received a reply. I popped the teeth into a glass jar, thinking one day I would do something with them. I later sold the home and moved out of town. While at my local shopping centre, I saw a stall buying gold. I knew what I could sell. I tumbled the teeth on to the counter. The girl behind the till wasn't fazed; she'd seen it all before. 'Are they your father's teeth?' she asked. 'God, no,' I said, shocked at the suggestion. She got out some heavy-duty pliers and began crushing the teeth to separate the gold from the enamel. She put the nuggets on the scales and offered me A$60 for the lot. I quickly refused, as that seemed like a real rip-off. Years later, the remains of the golden teeth are still in that glass jar. Silda, Sydney, Australia I was ecstatic when my family and I moved to an old Victorian-era house on Long Island. After moving in, I noticed that the previous owners had left pennies on all the window sashes. I had no idea what it meant, but since they were nice people, I figured it was a gesture of goodwill on their part, representing good wishes for our future in the house. Several years later, as I was getting ready for bed, I heard a cacophonous racket in the attic above – the noise of someone stomping up and down and throwing boxes and furniture around. I sent my husband up to see what was going on and he found nothing: no one there; not a single item out of place. At that point, the word 'poltergeist' popped into my mind. I'm not afraid of ghosts; I was charmed by the thought that we were sharing our new (old) house with one. Now, I think the pennies weren't so much a goodwill wish as an attempt at poltergeist protection. It's still a mystery to me. Nancy, New York, US The contributors featured in this article responded to a Community callout. You can contribute to open callouts here Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here
The Guardian
4 hours ago
- The Guardian
Two people dead after helicopter crashes into barge on Mississippi River
Two people died when a helicopter crashed into a barge in the Mississippi River near East Alton, Illinois, on Thursday, the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) said. Cpl Dallas Thompson of the Missouri state highway patrol confirmed that the two people inside the aircraft were killed and that there were no other reported injuries. The state patrol said no one was on the barge when the crash happened. The river has been closed to commercial navigation. The helicopter ran into a power line and crashed at about 11am on Thursday on the Mississippi River about a half-mile downriver from the Alton dam, said the Rivers Pointe fire district chief, Rick Pender. Fire, emergency medical and law enforcement personnel responded to the crash. Federal agencies were on the way, Pender said. The FAA and the National Transportation Safety Board will investigate the crash. Video provided to KMOV-TV by a witness shows a black plume of smoke rising up from the barge. East Alton is about 20 miles (32km) north of St Louis.
