Brotherhood in Battle:
Masons in the Civil War
by Jimmy Stevens

The Alabama artillery lieutenant frowned and twisted his broad shoulders as he sagged against the muddy wooden wheel of a caisson. He rested the back of his head between two of the spokes, closed his hazel eyes and blew out a long hard sigh. He was dog tired. It seemed as though they had been limbering and unlimbering, moving and firing for, well he couldn't remember the last he had really rested, let alone slept. He looked at the men, members of the Eufaula Artillery Battery under the command of Captain McDonald Oliver, (1) none of them were really much more than boys when the war started, he was just in his mid-twenties, but they were all men now. Most of them were lounging around the emplacement, a few dozing, a few writing letters, some reading the Bible, or chatting with a companion. He smiled slightly as it dawned on him that no one was playing cards. Even though everything was at the ready, some of the boys were still restlessly checking to be sure the guns and ammunition were set for another scrap; they all knew it was coming. They had whipped the Yanks pretty good yesterday at Mansfield, (2) but his battery had been on the move most of the night. Now they were in place near Pleasant Hill. (3)

He lit his battered pipe and smelled the smoke as it danced in a lazy swirl around his tanned and powder-burned face. His eyes gazed upward at the clear Louisiana sky and watched a buzzard soaring on the thermals hundreds of feet in the air. The vulture darkened his mood and he scowled wondering if this April 8,1864 would be his last day on Earth. That thought crossed his mind every single day, but he had learned to dismiss it and place himself in the hands of "Him Who doeth all things well." (5) Besides the war had taught him that there were a lot of worse fates than getting killed. A hard shiver coursed up his spine and briefly convulsed his whole body as he recalled the horror stories about those northern prison camps. Fort Delaware, Elmira, more often called "Hellmira," (4) and those other frozen netherworld compounds in the far north were as bad as any prison camp in the south. His hand involuntarily found the Army Colt stuck in his belt, yeah, one of those prisons must surely be worse than a quick death.

He watched as the huge bird climbed higher and was joined by others. The lieutenant had long ago lost a good portion of his hearing and was almost completely deaf in his left ear, owing to the big guns, but his eyesight was keener than ever. He crossed his arms and felt the small silver pin that he always worn on his shirt, under his jacket. He again closed his eyes, this time in prayer, Supreme Architect of the Universe, continue to us thy presence, protection, and blessing. (5) He opened his eyes and just caught a fleeting glint of flashing steel in the trees a few hundred yards down the single road that transversed woods. The lieutenant was instantly on his feet, "To your guns, boys, git ready, yonder they are!" Thou O God knows our down sittings and our uprising, and understandth our thoughts a far off, shield and defend us from the evil intent of our enemies. (5)

The woods were cool, damp, and musty smelling as about 60 men from the 30th Maine and several other shattered Union regiments moved into position. (2) The private grimaced in pain as he squatted and leaned against the scaly bark of a huge pine tree. He tightly shut his swollen eyes and with a shutter, heavily exhaled out of pain, and fatigue. This had been a miserable campaign, moving and fighting day after day, marching and counter-marching, confused orders, that whipping the Johnnies had given them yesterday at Mansfield, why had he ever enlisted?

He might not have volunteered had he known he'd be sent so far from home, and Louisiana was indeed a very long way from Maine, not only in miles, but in every aspect, everything was different here. He ran his grimy fingers through his dirty blonde hair, then wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes, yeah he probably would have joined up any way, it was the right thing to do. He looked to his left and right, observing the other boys who appeared as ragged, tired, and scared as he imagined he must have looked. Most were kneeling, squatting or leaning against trees, all had taken cover when they detected a three gun rebel artillery battery in the middle of the only road through the woods. Now they waited, wondering what they should do, there were no officers left to command them. (6) His breathing became more labored as his subconscious called up pictures of what he had seen grapeshot and canister do to the human body. He shook his head trying to exorcise those gory images from his mind, but they would not fade, so he tried thinking about home.

The coast of Maine is a beautiful place. He was not yet thirty when the war began, a fisherman working with his father and younger brothers. It was incredibly hard work, but good honest work that had provided a decent living for him, his wife and their children. The horrible thoughts of grapeshot paled now and were replaced by memories of happier times with his family. He had a good family, solid, decent, God-fearing people who placed a high value on morality and honorable living. All that seemed to be from a different lifetime or a different world right now, and the truths he had learned pertaining to friendship, morality and brotherly love were presently being strained to the limit.

His prewar occupation had also given him a strong healthy body, and that was surely coming in handy right now. He had already been wounded twice that morning, the first had been a painful flesh wound compliments of a rebel sharpshooter. The minie ball had penetrated the outside of his left leg, very bloody, but really little more than a nuisance. The second, which occurred a couple of hours later, must have been a piece of a shell fragment, because it had burned like hell when it knocked him off his feet. He had been too frightened not to scramble back to his feet and too scared to really look at that wound. Though he realized the front of his jacket was saturated with blood, he had just kept moving with what was left of his unit and had not stopped until now. He hesitated, took another deep breath, then pulled his badly torn jacket away from the right side of his chest and peered down. The white cotton shirt was in tatters exposing a nasty, jagged, gaping laceration running from just above his nipple to his collarbone. It had almost stopped bleeding, but upon closer examination he could see the cut was very deep, and he must have lost even more blood than he had realized.

He was immediately sorry he had finally taken time to examine the wound, because now that he had seen it, it really started to hurt. It was just as well he had lost his rifle in the fight that morning, he could not have placed it against his shoulder and fired it any way. He thought about heading to the rear and seeking medical treatment, but the regiment was in shambles and what remained of it had been moving for the past 24 hours. He had no idea where the nearest field hospital might be, and would probably be far better off staying with these men. It would probably be smarter to wait and seek treatment later than to go wandering off and run the risk of getting captured. Besides, he might be able to help the boys if they engaged the Johnnies again. He had taken a Navy Colt off a captured rebel captain a few days ago, and was confident he was strong enough to use the pistol instead of a rifle.

Lord, he was thirsty! Between the exertion, the heat, and the lost of blood, his mouth and throat felt as dry as powder, and his body screamed for liquid. As he reached for his nearly empty canteen, even the water down here tastes different, he glimpsed, upon his right hand, the ring his father had given him soon after he turned 21 and became a Freemason. He closed his eyes, Most holy and glorious Lord God, the giver of all good gifts and graces, may we walk in the light of thy countenance; and when the trials of our probationary state are over, be admitted into "the Temple,"not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. (5) He fervently hoped that he would not necessarily gain that admission this day.

A color-sergeant from one of the other Maine regiments was suddenly on his feet waving what had once been a regimental banner. "To your feet and form up men. We are going to take those damned guns! Follow me! Come on boys!" (6) The blonde private moaned as he rose, sucked the last drops of water from his canteen and took an unsteady step forward. His head seemed to spin slightly, he was weaker than he had realized, a less robust man probably could not have continued. He blinked several times, shook his head, touched his revolver and stepped out of the woods with his company. Thou 0 God knows our down sittings and our uprising, and understandth our thoughts a far off, shield and defend us from the evil intent of our enemies. (5)

As the federals neared the guns the blonde private was suddenly confronted by the rebel lieutenant and they slammed together in a "death grip." (6) Oblivious to the cannon, which were just then discharging their deadly stores of searing metal, the lieutenant and the private glared into one another's eyes. There is probably no greater human horror than to be locked together with person whom you know will take your life if you do not take his. "Kill or be kill" is a simple and familiar phrase, but the human experience rarely provides a more abhorrent feeling.

A wild eyed terror and unbridled hatred possessed both of the combatants. The brief seconds that they struggled against one another seemed like hours as neither was able to gain an advantage over the other. The heavens and earth stopped in the terror of the moment, everything moved at an incredibly slow speed, no sound, no pain, just a surreal focus on the opponent. Neither man had ever experienced anything like this before, and their minds raced.

This damn Yankee is no northern shopkeeper! He's strong as a bear! Where is all this blood coming from? I can't get him off of me, can I get to my pistol? I've ...got...to...shoot... him!

Where did this Johnny come from? He's so strong! He's too strong, I can't handle him! Grab his jacket and throw him down, the jacket's tearing. Gotta get to my pistol. I've. . .got. . .to. . .shoot. . .him!

As the private grabbed the lieutenant's jacket and ripped it, exposing his shirt, a pistol shot exploded and the blonde felt the bullet shatter his wrist. Still he maintained his death grip on the rebel, no pain yet, but he could feel all his strength leaving him. He was about to die. Then he spotted it, the torn jacket had revealed a small silver pin attached to the lieutenant's shirt; a square and compasses! (6)

Still locked together, breathlessly staring at each other, the private mustered all his strength and pulled the rebel toward him, in a tight embrace, then spoke into the lieutenant's right ear, the universally recognized words of a distressed brother Master Mason. The private was immediately released causing them both to take a step backwards. They then quickly embraced one another again, not in mortal combat, but weeping bitterly in friendship and brotherly love, considering what had almost happened. The Northern soldier collapsed onto the ground, totally spent, too weak even to continue crying. The Southerner ignored all that surrounded him, cradled the private's head and gave him water, then began to tend his wounds. Subsequently, the battery was captured and the southern lieutenant was taken prisoner as he tenderly cared for his wounded Masonic brother. (6)

Thus is told the true story of but one of the hundreds of incidents that occurred during the Civil War involving Master Masons. From the Spring of 1861 through the early Summer of 1865, approximately 700,000 Americans lost their lives in an American war fought on American soil. (7) Some of the best and bravest Americans ever to draw a breath were cut down in their youth. We shall never know, in this life, exactly what that war truly cost us. How much more advanced, how much stronger might our country be today had some of those, whom we benignly list as "casualties," had lived to realize their full potential? Perhaps the man capable of finding the cure for cancer was struck down by canister at Cold Harbor. Maybe the century's greatest evangelist, teacher or philosopher was bayoneted to death in the cornfield at Sharpsburg. Could it be that a future chemist who would have discovered some new alternative power source died of smallpox in Chimarazo Confederate Hospital? Did the greatest president this nation would ever know drown when his ironclad sank in the dark, muddy flow of the Mississippi?

Many of those men, those "casualties," were Master Masons. More than three million Americans, north and south, fought in the Civil War, approximately 11 % or about 320,000 of whom were Freemasons. (6) This is rather incredible considering in 1861 there were less than 500,000 Masons in America, which means over 60% of America's Masons went to war. (8) Consider too, that many Masons living during that period, obviously had to be older men, or otherwise incapable of going to war, so there is no question that an overwhelmingly high percentage of Masons, able to be soldiers, fought for their country, be it the Union or Confederacy. Over 300 generals in those two armies were Master Masons.(6)

Two very interesting phenomena took place during the course of the American Civil War. A great Christian revival swept both armies, but most especially the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia in 1862 & 63. The other fascinating circumstance was the dramatically increased interest in and growth of the Masonic Order. Most military units, both North & South, included a chaplain, the vast majority of which were Christian. With the hardships faced by those soldiers and the availability of personnel who were there for the expressed purpose of promoting Christianity, the Spiritual revival is not difficult to understand. But why the gravitation toward Freemasonry?

These soldiers endured harsher conditions and circumstances than we can dare image, and endured them for four years; four years that they lived together in extremely close quarters, thoroughly learned one another, mourned and rejoiced, won and lost, fought and ministered, and suffered and reveled together. There was no way to conceal who or what one was in those armies. Masonry flourished and grew because so many of the brethren so faithfully and consistently demonstrated the teachings of Freemasonry. It is somewhat difficult for non-Masons to fully appreciate the tenets and beliefs of the Order. Certainly there has been much misinformation and down right untruths spread about the fraternity, in present times as well as during the mid Nineteenth Century. However, nothing in Masonry creates a conflict in a man's duty to God, his government, his fellow man, or himself. On the contrary, the Masonic Order emphasizes and enhances a man's spiritual relationship with his Creator, and personal relationships with others, more especially his brothers in Masonry.

Most of the hundreds of thousands of Masons/soldiers who fought in the Civil War not only knew and believed the secrets and principles of the Masonry, they lived by them. They lived, exemplified, and personified Masonry. Their every day, lives demonstrated that they had something that other men desired, light in Masonry. Brother Master Masons disagreed on several political points, but the brotherhood never divided, rather it and its principles became stronger. (6)

Most people do not relate Freemasonry with the Civil War, nor appreciate the impact the fraternity had on it. That is in part because many people know little, if anything, about Masonry; and in part because they do not realize that so many of the war's main players, north and south, were Freemasons. Freemasonry describes itself as "a beautiful system of morality, veiled in allegory, and illustrated by symbols." (5) It is a very old Order, and its ancient traditions, teachings, and ceremonies are virtually the same today as they were during the Civil War. Masonry does not solicit membership, a man must ask to become a Mason. It is not a religion, it is not a cult, and it is not a secret organization, but rather an organization that has some secrets; nor is it a civic or service organization, though it encourages such activities. Masonry is and was at the time of the Civil War a Fraternity or Order whose foundation is the belief in God, and dedication to friendship, morality, and brotherly love. Members even address one another as "Brother," and are able to recognize one another by certain secret words and signs.

At least four recorded incidents wherein Masonic tenets took precedence over battlefield savagery occurred during the three day battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. One of the most famous charges in military history, Pickett's Charge, was led by several Confederate Masons. Major General and Masonic Brother George Pickett commanded a Division of James Longstreet's I Corps, which consisted of three brigades, two of which were commanded by Masons, General Lewis "Lo" Armistead and General James "Jimmy" Kemper. (8) As the charge began to stall on Cemetery Ridge, Armistead placed his hat upon the tip of his raised sword, and led his brigade forward to a rock wall, behind which, Union forces were dug in, with infantry and artillery. Armistead and his men, consisting mostly of Virginia and North Carolina boys, overran the position, achieving the "high watermark," or the farthest advance of that charge. Then Armistead placed his hand on a cannon, and proclaimed, "This gun belongs to me!" At that moment he was struck by a minie ball, and knocked from his feet resting against the cannon's wheel, where he called out a well known Masonic phrase.

Union Captain Henry H. Bingham was immediately by his side, and took the fallen general in his arms, whereupon they recognizing one another as Brother Masons. Armistead gave Bingham his watch, and some papers with the request they be forwarded to certain friends, trusting his Brother Mason would honor the request. General Armistead also inquired about his best friend, Union XI Corps Commander Major General Winfield Scott Hancock. They had sat together in Masonic Lodge meetings in California before the war. Armistead learned from Bingham that "O1' Winnie Boy" had been wounded at almost the same instant Armistead fell. General Armistead asked Captain Bingham to "Give General Hancock my regrets." Captain Bingham then had his Southern brother removed to the XI Corps hospital where, despite the best care available, he died that evening. Hancock survived his wound, to fight again in the war, and later was a United States presidential candidate. Today a monument (The Friend to Friend Masonic Monument) at the Gettysburg Battlefield commemorates the touching encounter between those two Masonic brothers, and its pedestal bears the image the Masonic Square & Compasses Symbol. (8)

A second encounter at Gettysburg involved Anson Miller, a 40-year-old Northern private, who was wounded four times on McPherson's Ridge, an advanced position west of the Union's main line on Cemetery Ridge. He was unable to retreat with the rest of the Federals as the Confederates overran their position. Some ragged rebels had begun to take his clothing, food, and equipment, when he uttered some particular words which are easily recognized by every Mason as a means of identify. A Tennessee Mason by the name of Menturn stepped forward and demanded Miller's possessions be returned to him, which they were. The wounded Yankee was then given food, water, and protection. At the first practical time he was removed to a hospital where several of his Confederate Masonic brothers visited him, but his wounds proved mortal and he died on 1 August 1863 after being returned to his own lines before the Southern army retreated. (8)

A third Gettysburg incident relative to members of the Masonic Lodge involved Confederate Colonel Joseph Wasden, a member of Franklin Lodge #11, Warrenton, Georgia, and the commander of the 22nd Georgia Infantry. He was killed on the Emmitsburg Road on 3 July 1863, the last day of the Battle of Gettysburg. While the bullets were still flying, a private belonging to the 2nd Rhode Island found Colonel Wasden's body, and upon examination discovered a document that identified him as a Master Mason. The private promptly delivered the paper to Captain Foy, of his Regiment, whom he knew to be a Mason.

onsidering it his duty, as a Brother Mason, Captain Foy enlisted the aid of Brother Corporal Stalker, and three other Masonic Brethren, all of whom proceeded to the place Colonel Wasden had fallen. They carefully wrapped the body in a blanket, dug a grave nearby, still under sharp Confederate fire, and tenderly, reverently laid their departed brother to rest. A green leaf of corn served in place of the customary sprig of acacia used at Masonic funerals, and the soul of their brother was thus committed to "the Supreme Architect of the Universe." (6)

Another Gettysburg Masonic encounter involved two relatively famous and remarkably similar, though opposing generals. John Brown Gordon was a Georgia lawyer who entered Confederate service as a private without benefit of any formal military training. Francis Channing Barlow, a New York attorney, became a Union private under much the same circumstances. Both had risen to the rank of general by the time Robert E. Lee marched his troops into Gettysburg, and both were then Freemasons.

As the battle raged on the first day, and General Gordon crossed the bloody ground, he happened upon a grievously wounded General Barlow. The Northerner was still conscious, but his wounds were obviously mortal, and even as the ghastly work of war persisted all around, Gordon stopped to comfort his fallen Masonic Brother. After providing what aid he could and giving the wounded general water, Gordon asked if there was anything else he could do. Barlow asked that Gordon write a letter to his wife, which he dictated, informing her of his impending death and declaring his undying love for her. The Southerner took the time to faithfully record every word of what both men thought would be Barlow's final correspondence and arranged to have it delivered to Mrs. Barlow. He then had his Northern Brother taken to the nearest field hospital and later than day moved back through the Union lines to a Federal Hospital.

General Barlow surprised everyone, and did not die, but with the help of his wife, who received his letter and came to retrieve his body, recovered and lived to fight again. Brothers Barlow and Gordon met in Washington several years after the war, and were both quite shocked, as each thought the other had been killed during the conflict. Their brotherly love and friendship continued for the remainder of their lives. (9)

The Masonic principles of friendship, morality, and brotherly love were also acted upon in some less famous military actions. In January of 1863 Federal gunboats, including the Albatross, mercilessly shelled the port town of St. Francisville, Louisiana. The Albatross was commanded by Lieutenant Commander J.E. Hart, a member of St. George's Masonic Lodge #6 in Schenectady, N.Y. During the bombardment, Hart suffered through several days of delirium, and eventually shot himself with a pistol in the head, resulting in his death.

His executive officer, friend and Masonic Brother Theodore B. Dubois, was beside himself with grief. Under a flag of truce, he went ashore, and inquired if there were any Masons among the very Confederate troops he had been shelling. After determining that there were indeed a considerable number of Masons present, he requested them to provide a Masonic burial for Brother Hart. The request was granted, without hesitation, and the services were conducted by Brother W.W. Leake a captain in the Confederate army along with several other local Brothers. The war was silenced while Confederate Masons buried and honored a Brother Mason from the North in a church cemetery pock marked by shells from the very Union gun boat that Lieutenant Commander Hart had commanded. In a further gesture of incredible brotherly love the Grand Lodge of Louisiana later dedicated a permanent marker on the grave of Lieutenant Commander Hart. (6)

Just a very limited list of 19th Century Masons looks like a "Who's Who List" of Civil War personalities. Major Robert Anderson (Mercer Lodge # 50, New Jersey), was the Union commander of Ft. Sumter when it was bombarded by Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard, a Mason and former student of Brother Anderson at West Point. Union General Benjamin Butler (Pentucket Lodge, Massachusetts) was nicknamed "Beast Butler," because of the several cruelties he inflicted on civilians in the South. However, while in New Orleans, Brother Butler, rather heavy-handedly, restored order, provided relief for the poor, and set up a sanitary commission, which greatly curbed yellow fever in that city. Unfortunately, he is probably best remembered for his General Order 28, in which he stated, that any woman who insulted, by word or gesture, any soldier of the federal army "shall be regarded and held liable to be treated as a woman of the town plying her avocation."

Confederate General and Brother P.G.T. Beauregard was so outraged that such an order would be issued in his hometown, that he undertook a frantic recruiting campaign playing on General Order 28, and its insulting tone to the women of the South. Even though these two Masonic Brothers were very much at odds politically, the benevolence of the fraternity still shone through. In December of 1862, Beauregard's wife, Caroline, fell gravely ill at her home in New Orleans. Butler immediately sent word of Caroline's condition to General Beauregard in Charleston, South Carolina, expressed his sincere sympathy and guaranteed him safe passage in and out of the Union-held city for Beauregard to visit his dying wife. Even these two, among the bitterest enemies of the war, could find a measure of brotherly love on the common ground of Masonry. (6)

Confederate General and Freemason Albert Sidney Johnston, was considered by some historians the Confederacy's greatest general in the west, until his untimely death near "the Hornet's Nest" at the Battle of Shiloh. He was the commander of the Confederate army in the western theater and a close personal friend of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. Another Confederate general in the western theater was Nathan Bedford Forrest (Angerona Lodge#168, Tennessee). Known as "the wizard of the saddle, Forrest was a self-made millionaire before the war, and rose from the rank of private to lieutenant general during the conflict. At least one historian has said two real geniuses emerged from the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln, and Bedford Forrest.

Master Mason George Henry Thomas, the "Rock of Chickamauga, was a union general who fought mostly in the west. He directed a bloody delaying action which allowed General Rosecran's Federal army to escape to Chattanooga in 1864, after being soundly defeated at Chickamauga Creek. Later he led the Union victory at Nashville, Tennessee and after the war was put in command of the Division of the Pacific.

General John Bankhead Magruder was a Virginian and West Point graduate who excelled in artillery tactics. He commanded the Confederates during the first major land engagement of the war, Big Bethel, which was a Southern victory. Later in the war this Master Mason fought in the western theater and is credited with capturing the Union ship, Harriet Lane, and thus breaking the federal blockade in Texas. After the war, Magruder was too proud to apply for parole and moved to Mexico where he fought for Maximilian until his defeat whereupon Magruder resettled in Houston, Texas, where he died in 1871. One of Magruder's opponents early in the war was George McClellan (Williamette #2, Oregon), who was the Union Commander in 1861-1862, and is still noted as one of the best training officers ever to prepare an army. He was the Democratic Presidential candidate in 1864, but narrowly lost to the incumbent Republican, Abraham Lincoln. However, he later served as governor of New Jersey.

Doctor John W.C. O'Neal (Good Samaritan Lodge # 336, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) was a civilian physician who practiced medicine at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1863 and personified his Lodge's name. Dr. O'Neal kept records of the names and burial places of many Confederates killed during that terrible battle. During the actual battle, he worked tirelessly in the Almshouse Hospital treating both Union and Confederate casualties. He recorded and marked hundreds of Confederate graves. O'Neal wrote scores of letters to Southern families who were seeking the remains of their loved ones for re-interment in family plots. Because of his efforts, nearly one thousand Confederate remains were located, identified, and transported south after the war. Often, the costs of disinterment and shipping were assumed by O'Neal personally, if a family was unable to pay for the process. (6)

Two days after General Robert E. Lee signed surrender papers and submitted his Army of Northern Virginia to General U.S. Grant, a formal surrender ceremony and stacking of arms took place near Appomattox. Representing the Federal Commander, General Grant, at this ceremony was Brother General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. Brother General John B. Gordon represented General Lee during the formalities. Both Generals had, at some point during the war, received ghastly wounds which had been pronounced mortal at the time by attending surgeons.

As the defeated, but still proud, Army of Northern Virginia marched with great dignity to the place of surrender, there were no catcalls or smug remarks made from the ranks of the Union army. Rather, Brother Chamberlain called his troops to attention, and they presented a crisp, sincere, military salute, honoring their former foe, and thus "welcoming such noble manhood back into the Union."

Brother Gordon, sitting a top a fine black stallion, galloped directly toward General Chamberlain, then suddenly pulled hard on the reins, causing his steed to rear majestically. The Southerner simultaneously lowered his saber from his shoulder to touch the tip of his boot, thus returning a respectful salute in a most spectacular manner. Could such a demonstration of mutual respect, forgiveness, and brotherly love ever been possible except between two Master Masons? (10)



End Notes

(1) http-//www.tarleton.edu/-kjones/alarty.html

2) http://home.swbell.net/jamesrey/phcsaoob.htm

(3) Historical Times Illustrated Encyclopedia of the Civil War Patricia L. Faust; Harper Perennial 1986

(4) Portals to Hell Lonnie Speer 1997

(5) North Carolina Lodge Manual Charles F. Bahnson; Edwards & Broughton Co. Raleigh, N.C.; 1892

(6) House Undivided the Story of Freemasonry and the Civil War Allen E. Roberts, Macoy Publishing & Masonic Supply Co. Inc Richmond, Va. 1961

(7) The Civil War Day by Day E. B. Long and Barbara Long; Da Capo Press 1971

(8) Freemasons at Gettysburg Sheldon A. Munn Thompson Publications; Gettysburg Pa; 1993

(9) http-//www.civilwarhome.com/barlowgordon.htm

(10) The Civil War accompanying book to Ken Burns 1990 television documentary

 

 



 

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