ANA: Analyzing Primary Sources by Annotating

Transcription

1 Directions: 1. Stop and Source: Ask yourself: ANA: Analyzing Primary Sources by Annotating Who created the primary source? What type of source is it? When was the primary source created? Who was the intended audience? 2. Listen and follow along: As the teacher or someone in your group reads the primary source aloud. 3. Observe: Silently re-read the source closely. Highlight phrases that you think are important in helping you answer the focus question. Focus Question: What is the narrator s point of view surrounding the assassination of Abraham Lincoln? Think carefully about your observations. 4. Reflect: Write what you think about your observations in the margins of the text. Because every reflection should be anchored directly to an observation to support ideas, draw arrows from each reflection to the highlighted phase(s) to which it refers. Share your observations and reflections with your small group. (2 minutes) 5. Question: Think about the questions surrounding your observations of this primary source. Write your questions in the margins also. Share in small groups. 6. Share out with the whole class. 7. Repeat method with a second (or more) primary source(s). Compiled by the Teaching with Primary Sources Program at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, January, 2015 Disclaimer: Content created in partnership with the TPS Program does not indicate an endorsement by the Library of Congress or Southern Illinois University Edwardsville

2 Focus question: Quick Write: Write a short summary below sharing the point of view of the narrator(s) surrounding the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Be sure to support your summary using evidence from the narrative(s). Compiled by the Teaching with Primary Sources Program at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, January, 2015 Disclaimer: Content created in partnership with the TPS Program does not indicate an endorsement by the Library of Congress or Southern Illinois University Edwardsville

3 TIMELINE 1820s- 1930s (related to narratives), Map Missouri Compromise 1820 Thomas F. Pendel born in 1824 A Compromise Tariff Act is passed 1833 Septima M. Collins born in 1842 Franklin A. Buck was born in 1846 Emma F. LeConte was born in California Gold Rush begins Compromise of 1850 passed Kansas- Nebraska Act; nullified Missouri Compromise Tariff of 1857 Dred Scott v. Sandford 60 US declares that blacks are not citizens of the United States and cannot sue Abraham Lincoln inaugurated as sixteenth president of the United States 1861 South Carolina's Fort Sumter attacked- The War Begins. April 1861 Abraham Lincoln is re-elected Burning of Columbia, South Carolina February 17, 1865 Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. April 14, 1865 Freedmen's Bureau abolished The Civil Rights Act March 1, 1875 The United States has about 50,000 telephones 1880 Septima M. Collins narrative was published 1889 Thomas F. Pendel's narrative was published th Amendment prohibits sale of beer, wine, liquor - Prohibition Stock market crash on 'Black Thursday' triggers the Great Depression Franklin A. Buck's narrative was published Franklin Delano Roosevelt wins Presidential election Emma F. LeConte's narrative was published Clark Gable stars in movie "Gone With the Wind" 1820 s 1830 s 1840 s 1850 s 1860 s year span 19 year span Dates related to narrators GREEN TEXT

4 TIMELINE 1820s- 1930s (related to narratives), Map Septima M. Collins Baltimore, Maryland Franklin A. Buck Weaverville, California Thomas F. Pendel Washington, DC Emma F. LeConte Columbia, South Carolina

5 Title A Woman's War Record, Creator Collis, Septima Maria Levy, Notes Mrs. Collis was the companion of her husband at the front. He raised a company of zouaves at the outbreak of the war, which was later augmented to a regiment, the 114th Pennsylvania. Transcribed from: A woman's war record, / by Septima M. Collis (Mrs. Genl. Charles H.T. Collis) New York ; London : G.P. Putnam's Sons ; Knickerbocker Press, Page 1 & portion of Page 2 A WOMAN'S WAR RECORD. BY MRS. GENERAL CHARLES H. T. COLLIS. I have no hesitation in calling what I am about to write a war record, for my life was twice in jeopardy, as will be seen later on, and I served faithfully as a volunteer, through compensation, during the entire war of the Rebellion. It is true I was not in the ranks, but I was at the front, and perhaps had a more continuous experience of army life during those four terribly eventful years than any other woman of the North. Born in Charleston, S. C., my sympathies were naturally with the South, but on December 9, 1861, I became a Union woman by marrying a Northern soldier in Philadelphia. Page 37 At first we lived in tents, but later, when my husband became commander of the post, I lived most comfortably in a house. These were the months immediately preceding the close of the war, and were the most interesting, full of excitement and stirring events. I had my little daughter with me, and we occupied a very cosy farm-house, where for the first time in my army life I had female servants, one of whom was an old colored woman I found on the premises, and she did most excellent service as cook and maid-of- all-work. In real Southern style we called her "Aunty" Miranda.

6 Page 73 (portion) General Grant at this time was in pursuit of Lee's retreating army, and my husband's brigade was once more ordered on the march, while I, with my sick child, remained at City Page Point. It was not until April 14th that I considered my daughter well enough to travel, and then, without waiting for my husband's return from Appomattox, I started for Philadelphia, taking a steamboat as far as Baltimore. The war was over; my husband was alive and well; my child was recovering; my life was brimful of gladness. With such happy thoughts and in such a mood I reached Baltimore, when I gradually became sensible of an abnormal condition of things, which indicated some fresh outbreak, and I became alarmed. People were hurrying through the streets, groups of men and women were engaged in eager discussion; something had happened. There were no cheers, no music; it was gloom! There had been a calamity. What was it? "The President has been murdered," whispered my orderly, who had gone for information, "and nobody can go North to-day." Oh, horror! I had learned to love Mr. Lincoln then, as younger people to-day love to read about him. I had seen him weep, had heard him laugh, had been gladdened by his wit and saddened by his pathos. I had looked up to him as one inspired. How glad I was afterwards to know that his untimely death was the act of a mad fanatic, and that my people who had fought a desperate but unreasonable war had no hand in it. When I could collect my thoughts I gathered up my sick child and the little comforts I had brought with me to nourish and sustain her on the journey, and took myself to the nearest hotel, where I remained until the authorities permitted me to continue on my way the next morning. Later I was among the sad and silent multitude who witnessed the passing of the funeral cortége up Broad Street, in Philadelphia. There were many joys in my life then which made me the happiest of women, but I could willingly have sacrificed some of them to bring that best of the very best back again into life.

7 Title Diary, : (transcript) / LeConte, Emma. Creator LeConte, Emma. SUMMARY Diary of Emma LeConte while she was living in Columbia, S.C. In the diary, LeConte reflected on the Civil War and other matters and wrote about various activities and events, such as the burning of Columbia. NOTES Emma Florence LeConte was the daughter of scientist Joseph LeConte. Published as "When the World Ended: The Diary of Emma LeConte" (Earl Schenk Miers, ed., 1957). Transcribed from: A journal, kept by Emma Florence LeConte, from Dec. 31, 1864 to Aug. 6, 1865, written in her seventeenth year and containing a detailed account of the burning of Columbia, by one who was an eyewitness / transcript prepared by the Historical Records Survey of the Works Progress Administration, May, p. From the manuscript (#420) in the Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. A JOURNAL, KEPT BY EMMA FLORENCE LeCONTE, FROM DEC. 31, 1864 TO AUG. 6, 1865, WRITTEN IN HER SEVENTEENTH YEAR AND CONTAINING A DETAILED ACCOUNT OF THE BURNING OF COLUMBIA, BY ONE WHO WAS AN EYEWITNESS. Page 65 Friday, April 21st. - Hurrah! Old Abe Lincoln has been assassinated! It may be abstractly wrong to be so jubilant, but I just can't help it. After all the heaviness and gloom of yesterday this blow to our enemies comes like a gleam of light. We have suffered till we feel savage. There seems no reason to exult, for this will make no change in our position - will only infuriate them against us. Never mind, our hated enemy has not the just reward of his life. The whole story may be a Yankee lie. The despatch purports to be from Stanton to Sherman - It says Lincoln was murdered in his private box at the theatre on the night of the 14th - (Good Friday - at the theatre) The assassin brandished a dagger and shouting, "Sic semper tyrannis - Virginia is avenged", shot the president through the head. He fell senseless and expired next day a little after ten. The assassin made his escape in the crowd. No doubt it was regularly planned and he was surrounded by Southern sympathizers. "Sic semper tyrannis." Could there have been a fitter death for such a man? At the same hour nearly Seward's house was entered - he was badly wounded as also his son. Why could not the assassin have done his work more thoroughly? That vile Seward - he it is to whom we owe this war - it is a shame he should escape.

8 I was at Mrs. Leland's saying my German when Mrs. Snowden brought in the news. We were all so excited and talked so much that Wilhelm Tell was quite forgotten. Our spirits had been so low that the least good news elevated them wonderfully and this was so utterly onlooked-for-took us so completely by surprise. I actually flew home and for the first time in oh, so long I was trembling and my heart beating with excitement. I stepped in at Aunt Josie's to talk it over. As soon as I reached the head of the stairs they all cried - "What do you think of the news?" - "Isn't it splended -" etc..

9 Title A Yankee trader in the gold rush; the letters of Franklin A. Buck, compiled by Katherine A. White with Illustrations, Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, The Riverside Press Cambridge, 1930 Creator Buck, Franklin Agustus, CREATED/PUBLISHED Boston, New York, Houghton Mifflin company, SUMMARY A native of Maine, Franklin Agustus Buck was working in New York City when he heard of the gold strikes and set out for California in January A Yankee trader in the gold rush (1930) contains Buck's letters to his sister in Maine. They chronicle his first dozen years in the West: a voyage round the Horn to San Francisco; prospecting and storekeeping in various gold camps and the towns of Sacramento, Downieville, North Fork, Marysville, and Weaverville; and a trading voyage to Tahiti and Hawaii. Politics interest Buck, and he pays close attention to the issues in the 1852 election, local secessionist debate, and the impact of the Civil War. In the 1860s, Buck turns to agriculture, raising fruit and cattle at farms in Weaverville, Oakville, and Red Bluffs. Discoveries of silver lead him back to mining at Treasure City, Meadow Valley, and Pioche, Nevada. NOTES Letters written from 1846 to Introduction by his daughter, Mary Sewall Buck Carr. WEAVERVILLE, April 27, [1865] A YANKEE TRADER IN THE GOLD RUSH THE LETTERS OF FRANKLIN A. BUCK COMPILED BY KATHERINE A. WHITE WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY The Riverside Press Cambridge, 1930 We have lived during the past month, it seems to me, a lifetime, as regards history and remarkable events. We have laid aside all business and celebrated day and night. First came the capture of Richmond. I expect we got the news here just as soon as you did, of all the events. We decorated the town with flags and fired a salute. At the first gun the miners put down their picks and came in to hear the news and when they heard it they didn't go out and take them up again that day. In the evening the ladies all assembled at the theatre and we had a dance. Next, the surrender of Lee and his army. That caused even more rejoicing. We fired 100 guns. Everybody came in town and celebrated. The Copperheads even gave it up and some of them went to the dance in

10 the evening. We had an immense ball, all gotten up on the spur of the moment--over 200 people present. I don't know when I have enjoyed one so much. We interspersed the dances with patriotic songs and everybody and his wife and all the little children were there and enjoyed themselves immensely. Shall I describe the reception of the next event--the assassination of the President. We got the first intimation of it at two o'clock that day but did not get all the particulars until about eight. We could hardly believe the first report but in the evening we had all the particulars to his dying at 22 minutes past seven that very morning. The crowd listened as it came word by word and we all looked and felt as though we were hearing of the death of some of our families, some near relative in the States. Probably no man since Washington was ever so mourned. In this far off State every little town was draped in black and Wednesday the 19th was observed by funeral ceremonies. In this place all business was suspended. We had a very large procession and both military companies marched to the theatre. Jones delivered a very good eulogy on the late President. We had music from our brass band and singing by a select choir suitable to the occasion. The Methodist Minister made the prayer and the Catholic Priest pronounced the benediction. We have about decided to quit all social intimacy with some of our Southern friends whom we have gotten along with up to this time by ignoring the subject of the war when we are in their company. They have taken no part in our rejoicing or in our mourning. We have heard that one lady from Missouri made the remark that when she heard of Lee's surrender her heart failed her and she thought that God had forsaken them, but when she heard of the killing of the President she thought that God had again remembered them and was on their side--and there are many who think the same way. They have to rejoice over this event in their own houses and among themselves. They are very careful what they say on the street. In San Francisco there was the most intense excitement and the crowd got even a little by destroying all the Democratic presses in the city. The general opinion here is that the Rebellion will not get off so easy at the hands of Andrew Johnson as it would if they had let Lincoln live. I think the War will last some time yet on a small scale and it better last until they are all killed.

11 Title Thirty-six years in the White House, by Thomas F. Pendel, door-keeper; Lincoln-Roosevelt. Creator Pendel, Thomas F. b (Thomas Franses) Created / Published Washington, The Neale Publishing Company, Page About ten o'clock, as nearly as I can remember, one of the sergeants of the invalid corps, who was doing duty around the White House, rang the bell, and I stepped to the door. He said, "Have you heard the news?" I replied, "No." He then said, "They have tried to cut the throat of Secretary Seward." He lived in a house close by where the Lafayette Theatre now stands. I said to him, "O Sergeant, I guess you must be mistaken!" I supposed he referred to the accident that happened to Mr. Seward three weeks before this. He had been thrown from his carriage, and his jawbone had been broken in the fall. The sergeant went away to his post and returned in about fifteen minutes. He rang the bell, and I stepped to the door again. He said, "I tell you that it is a fact; they tried to cut Secretary Seward's throat." Then I began to feel very uneasy about the President.

12 Probably he had been gone this second time twenty minutes, when I saw quite a number of persons hastening towards the White House through the east gate. Men, half-grown boys and small boys all seemed to be in a great hurry. Some of the boys were running. When they arrived at the door, the central figure was Senator Sumner. He came to inquire about the President. I said, "Mr. Senator, I wish you would go down to the theatre and see if anything has happened to the President." They hurried away just as fast as they had come. Probably about twenty minutes before eleven o'clock, I stepped up to the door in answer to another ring at the bell. Who should be there but Isaac Newton, the Commissioner of Agriculture. This is now a Cabinet position, but was then a commissionership. I admitted him inside the door, and at once closed it. He was a bosom friend of President Lincoln. I was thoroughly acquainted with him, and I knew to whom I was talking. He said to me, "They have shot the President. And the bullet," he said, "has enered the left side of his head." I immediately hurried upstairs, leaving him on the inside, and went to Captain Robert Lincoln's room. He had just come from the front that morning, where he had been doing duty on the staff of General Grant. That room was directly over the front portico. When I got into his private room, he did not seem to be feeling very well, and had a vial in one hand containing medicine and a teaspoon in the other, as if he was about to take a dose of medicine. As I stepped up to his side the teaspoon and the vial seemed to go involuntarily down on the table, and he did not take the medicine. I wanted to approach him gently and break the news to him about his father. So I simply said, "Captain, there has something happened to the President; you had better go down to the theatre and see what it is." He said to me, "Go and call Major Hay," who was in the room now used by Secretary Cortelyou. That was Mr. Nicolay's and Major Hay's bedchamber at that time. I said to him, "Major, Captain Lincoln wants to see you at once. The President has been shot." He was a handsome young man with a bloom on his cheeks just like that of a beautiful young lady. When I told him the news, he turned deathly pale, the color entirely leaving his cheeks. He said to me, "Don't allow anybody to enter the house." I said, "Very good, Major. Nobody shall come in." They took their departure immediately for the theatre. They had been gone probably half an hour, when poor little Tad returned from the National Theatre and entered through the east door of the basement of the White House. He came up the stairway and ran to me, while I was in the main vestibule, standing at the window, and before he got to me he burst out crying,

13 "O Tom Pen! Tom Pen! they have killed papa dead. They've killed papa dead!" and burst out crying again. I put my arm around him and drew him up to me, and tried to pacify him as best I could. I tried to divert his attention to other things, but every now and then he would burst out crying again, and repeat over and over, "Oh, they've killed papa dead! They've killed papa dead!" At nearly twelve o'clock that night I got Tad somewhat pacified, and took him into the President's room, which is in the southwest portion of the building. I turned down the cover of his little bed, and he undressed and got in. I covered him up and laid down beside him, put my arm around him, and talked to him until he fell into a sound sleep. Ah! that was a sad night for the nation, and to me it was simply awful, for I loved Mr. Lincoln probably better than I loved any one else in all the world. While I was putting little Tad to bed other men had taken my place at the door, but after he went to sleep I returned to my duty.