Published 20 February 2007 in The Carolinian (The University of North Carolina at Greensboro), p. 6
The Wall boys exemplify our great national tragedy
The Compleat Heretic
Matt Wallace
Staff Writer
My father, Tom Wallace, is the oldest of three brothers born between 1938 and 1943. Whenever their maternal grandmother's sister, Hattie Young Caudle, would visit, she would exclaim upon seeing them, "There are those Wall boys again!" This always perplexed my father as his family name was "Wallace," not "Wall." He always figured she was just a somewhat demented old woman who simply got the name wrong.
For about a decade, one of my hobbies has been genealogy, the study of ancestry and family history. I first heard my father's story about Aunt Hattie while sharing with him the experiences of some of our distant relatives during the Civil War. Inadvertently, I alleviated 50-some years of his confusion and proved that ol' Aunt Hattie wasn't addled after all!
The "Wall Boys" weren't Tom, Dan, and Dub Wallace. The "Wall Boys" were three of Aunt Hattie's maternal uncles, Watkins, Wesley, and Francis Wall. They were Stokes County farm boys, the three eldest of William and Eliza Pulliam Wall's four sons and four daughters. Like many Tar Heel boys of their generation, they were Confederate soldiers during the Civil War. Their service in Company D, 52nd N.C. Infantry, also known as McCulloch's Avengers, is recorded in North Carolina Troops, 1861-1865: A Roster, Volume 12.
Watkins Wall enlisted on March 19, 1862 at age 21. After a few months on duty, around July 1, he was given sick leave with an unidentified disease. He was sent home where he died on Sept. 25, 1862 at age 21. His cause of death was a remarkably ordinary way for a Civil War soldier to lose his life. For each combat death, two deaths were attributable to disease.
Wesley Wall also enlisted on March 19, 1862 at age 19. He fought at Gettysburg and was a participant in Pickett's Charge on July 3, 1863. During the battle, he was wounded in the leg which led to his capture by Federal troops. His leg was amputated, and he was hospitalized until he was transferred to the military prison at Point Lookout, Maryland.
Point Lookout possessed all the horrors associated with the Civil War's prisoner of war camps, both North and South. Though built to hold 10,000, actual capacities varied from 12,500 to 20,000. This overcrowding led to chronic shortages of everything but disease and misery. Polluted water, malnutrition, exposure, and lack of medical care caused the deaths of some 4,000 of the nearly 52,000 men who were imprisoned there during its 22 months of operation.
Wesley was paroled by the Federals and returned to Confederate control in March 1864. He was furloughed by the Confederate military authorities and sent home on March 31. Unfortunately, his ordeal apparently caused his death on May 21, 1864 at age 21.
Francis Wall enlisted on Feb. 20, 1863 at age 18. He fought at Gettysburg with his brother Wesley, but survived Pickett's Charge to participate on Lee's withdrawal to Virginia. The 52nd N.C. was part of the rear guard protecting the Army of Northern Virginia's flank as they crossed the Potomac River. Francis was one of about 70 members of the unit to be captured near Falling Waters, Maryland on July 14, 1863. He was imprisoned at Point Lookout were he died of unreported causes on Oct. 9, 1863 at age 19.
So there you have the Civil War experiences of Watkins, Wesley, and Francis Wall. Experiences which were replicated hundreds of thousands of times between 1861 and 1865. I'm sure there are thousands of other stories of families losing an entire generation of their sons and brothers. No doubt you're wondering why I chose to bore you with one such story.
You see, Aunt Hattie never knew her uncles as they died when her mother, Elmira Wall Young, was still a girl. Most likely, all she knew of her uncles came from old photographs of three earnest young men and her mother's painful childhood memories. This engendered a sense of loss which manifested itself in an old woman's whimsy of seeing the uncles she never knew in the faces of her sister's grandsons. This loss continued as my father's youthful and life-long confusion over this. This loss became mine when I learned of my distant uncles who lived and died some of my worst nightmares as a soldier. Thus a distant family tragedy ripples through the generations and becomes emblematic of a far greater national tragedy.
Hell no, I ain't fergit'n'!
Read more from Matt at his web site: www.CompleatHeretic.com
Original unedited column as submitted to the The Carolinian (The University of North Carolina at Greensboro)
The Wall boys exemplify our great national tragedy
by Matt Wallace
My father, Tom Wallace, is the oldest of three brothers born between 1938 and 1943. Whenever their maternal grandmother’s sister, Hattie Young Caudle, would visit, she would exclaim upon seeing them, “There are those Wall boys again!” This always perplexed my father as his family name was “Wallace,” not “Wall.” He always figured she was just a somewhat demented old woman who simply got the name wrong.
For about a decade, one of my hobbies has been genealogy, the study of ancestry and family history. I first heard my father’s story about Aunt Hattie while sharing with him the experiences of some of our distant relatives during the Civil War. Inadvertently, I alleviated 50-some years of his confusion and proved that ol’ Aunt Hattie wasn’t addled after all!
The “Wall Boys” weren’t Tom, Dan, and Dub Wallace. The “Wall Boys” were three of Aunt Hattie’s maternal uncles, Watkins, Wesley, and Francis Wall. They were Stokes County farm boys, the three eldest of William and Eliza Pulliam Wall’s four sons and four daughters. Like many Tar Heel boys of their generation, they were Confederate soldiers during the Civil War. Their service in Company D, 52nd N.C. Infantry, also known as McCulloch’s Avengers, is recorded in North Carolina Troops, 1861-1865: A Roster, Volume 12.
Watkins Wall enlisted on March 19, 1862 at age 21. After a few months on duty, around July 1, he was given sick leave with an unidentified disease. He was sent home where he died on September 25, 1862 at age 21. His cause of death was a remarkably ordinary way for a Civil War soldier to lose his life. For each combat death, two deaths were attributable to disease.
Wesley Wall also enlisted on March 19, 1862 at age 19. He fought at Gettysburg and was a participant in Pickett’s Charge on July 3, 1863. During the battle, he was wounded in the leg which led to his capture by Federal troops. His leg was amputated, and he was hospitalized until he was transferred to the military prison at Point Lookout, Maryland.
Point Lookout possessed all the horrors associated with the Civil War’s prisoner of war camps, both North and South. Though built to hold 10,000, actual capacities varied from 12,500 to 20,000. This overcrowding led to chronic shortages of everything but disease and misery. Polluted water, malnutrition, exposure, and lack of medical care caused the deaths of some 4,000 of the nearly 52,000 men who were imprisoned there during its 22 months of operation.
Wesley was paroled by the Federals and returned to Confederate control in March 1864. He was furloughed by the Confederate military authorities and sent home on March 31, 1864. Unfortunately, his ordeal apparently caused his death on May 21, 1864 at age 21.
Francis Wall enlisted on February 20, 1863 at age 18. He fought at Gettysburg with his brother Wesley but survived Pickett’s Charge to participate on Lee’s withdrawal to Virginia. The 52nd N.C. was part of the rear guard protecting the Army of Northern Virginia’s flank as they crossed the Potomac River. Francis was one of about 70 members of the unit to be captured near Falling Waters, Maryland on July 14, 1863. He was imprisoned at Point Lookout where he died of unreported causes on October 9, 1863 at age 19.
So there you have the Civil War experiences of Watkins, Wesley, and Francis Wall. Experiences which were replicated hundreds of thousands of times between 1861 and 1865. I’m sure there are thousands of other stories of families losing an entire generation of their sons and brothers. No doubt you’re wondering why I chose to bore you with one such story.
You see, Aunt Hattie never knew her uncles as they died when her mother, Elmira Wall Young, was still a girl. Most likely, all she knew of her uncles came from old photographs of three earnest young men and her mother’s painful childhood memories. This engendered a sense of loss which manifested itself in an old woman’s whimsy of seeing the uncles she never knew in the faces of her sister’s grandsons. This loss continued as my father’s youthful and life-long confusion over this. This loss became mine when I learned of my distant uncles who lived and died some of my worst nightmares as a soldier. Thus a distant family tragedy ripples through the generations and becomes emblematic of a far greater national tragedy.
Hell no, I ain’t fergit’n’!
Read more from Matt at his web site: www.CompleatHeretic.com
