Our SPOTLIGHT on Carolyn Poling Schriber wraps up with an introduction to A SCRATCH WITH THE REBELS ...*Contest*

On a muddy South Carolina battlefield, a sergeant sat propped up against a hedge and tried to focus on the spot where he thought his leg should be. There was nothing – only the tattered remains of his trousers and a pool of blood that grew ever larger. The whistle of artillery shells had stopped, and the sudden quiet was as jarring as the previous battle noises had been. Shock had deadened the pain, so that all he felt was exhaustion as he closed his eyes. Sgt. James McCaskey had fought and lost his only battle.

"From behind a hedge on that battlefield, a young private picked his way through the bodies, following orders to gather up the abandoned weapons and tend to the wounded. Pvt. Augustine T. Smythe was stunned by the mayhem that met his eyes, particularly the sight of a soldier who lay with his leg shot entirely away. He whispered a silent prayer, as was fitting for the son of a Presbyterian minister, that he would never again have to witness such horrors.

"The Battle of Secessionville, fought out in the early hours of June 16, 1862, on James Island, South Carolina, brought these two young men together for a single moment. But the events of the Civil War had been drawing them together for almost a year. James and Gus were approximately the same age. Both were first-generation Americans, the sons of Scotch-Irish immigrants to the United States. Both stood firm in their Presbyterian faith, and both believed passionately in the cause of their countries. Both wanted to enlist from the day the first shot was fired at Fort Sumter; both had to spend months persuading their parents to allow them to join the army. They set out for their first battle on the same day – November 7, 1861-- and both missed the action by arriving too late. Both chafed at enforced inaction and longed to get into a real battle. Each of their Scotch-Irish mothers might have warned her son to be careful for what he wished.

They were just two soldiers, alike in many ways but different in the one trait that mattered on that battlefield. One was North; the other, South. Sgt. James McCaskey belonged to the 100th Pennsylvania Regiment, known to their comrades as “The Roundheads.” They came from the farms of western Pennsylvania, determined to defend for all men the Calvinist principles they most valued – self-reliance, industriousness, and liberty. Gus Smythe served in the Washington Light Infantry, part of the 24th South Carolina Volunteers. He was a college student from a well-to-do Charleston family and an ardent supporter of the Confederate right to secede from a political union that did not serve the needs of its people. This is the story of how they came to their opposing positions, and how the Battle of Secessionville altered not only their own lives, but the lives of those who shared their experiences.

WHAT CAROLYN IS WORKING ON NOW............

Carolyn Schriber is currently preparing two e-books to be published as Kindle "Shorts". Nellie's Rx: Medical Treatments from 1862 and Nellie's Kitchen: Recipes from the Civil War are both companion pieces for her Civil War novel, Beyond All Price. Here is a short excerpt from Nellie's Kitchen.


NELLIE’S KITCHEN

A Civil War nurse had more to learn about cooking than about medicine. Nellie Chase soon found that her primary task was not to offer medical advice or dole out medicine. Her job was to keep the men well-fed and happy. Wounded men recovered more quickly if they ate well. Homesick soldiers perked up when they had a taste of home. And healthy, well-nourished men were much less likely to succumb to disease.

Nellie began her cooking lessons with the 100th Pennsylvania “Roundheads” Regiment. These young backwoodsmen taught her about Scotch-Irish and Pennsylvania Dutch cooking. Their move to Washington, DC, reminded Nellie of her own New England roots and encouraged her to teach the Roundheads the joys of fresh seafood. Then they sailed off to South Carolina, where abandoned slaves introduced them all to the African-inspired cuisine of the Low Country.

Later in her career, Nellie spent time in military hospitals, both as a patient and as a nurse. There she learned more about cooking for invalids. Then she traveled to Tennessee, where she added country cooking and other southern recipes to her growing collection.

By the time Nellie and her new husband, George Earnest, took over the operation of the Railroad Hotel in Paris, Tennessee, Nellie was not only an accomplished cook. She also had a menu that spanned the country from Maine to South Carolina, from the shores of the Atlantic to the Mississippi River.


CHAPTER 1: ROUNDHEAD RECIPES

Nellie’s inspiration to learn more about cooking for an army on the move came during a train ride. At one relay station, a group of volunteer women had set up an outdoor kitchen to provide hot, home-cooked meals to the soldiers passing through.


Looking around, she noted how the soldiers, almost to a man, had perked up. They were smiling, laughing, relaxing. Mentally Nellie made a note. I won’t be able to see the men fed like this often, but I must try to come up with some sort of treat for them now and then, she thought. I’ve heard an army marches on its stomach, but I never realized how true that is.

It took several hours for the baggage handlers to unload the train and reload the Roundhead baggage onto wagons. Nellie filled the time by chatting with the women who had provided their meal. One gray-haired lady cheerfully introduced herself as the Widow Barlow. “I don’t have anybody to cook for at home anymore,” she said, “so I enjoy getting the chance here to put on some really big feeds. Who cooks for all these men when they’re in their camps?”

“Well, mostly they do their own cooking, which isn’t good, I’m afraid. And at the moment I’m not much help. I can stir up some broth for those who are sickly, but I don’t know what to suggest to the men sitting around a campfire with nothing but a great big pot.”

“I can help you there. Let me find a scrap of paper and I’ll give you a couple of recipes that’ll fill their bellies”


HARDTACK CORN CHOWDER
· 6 pieces hardtack
· 1 cup milk
· ¾ pound salt pork
· 1 large onion, peeled and sliced or chopped
· 4 large potatoes, sliced or diced
· 2 cups water
· 2 cups corn, kernels sliced off cob (about 2 ears)
· 1¾ teaspoon salt
· ¾ teaspoon paprika if available

Soak hardtack in milk. (Skim off weevils and other objectionable matter. You may want to start this the night before, depending on age of hardtack.)

When they are softened, cut salt pork into cubes and brown over medium fire. Add onion and cook until soft.

Add potatoes and water and cook until potatoes are soft, or at least tender.

Stir in hardtack and milk, then add remaining ingredients. Stir and cook to almost boiling, and serve at once.


Cabbage Stew

The Widow Barlow called this recipe “older than dirt.”

· One head green cabbage
· Salt pork
· Onions
· Stewed tomatoes
· salt, garlic, pepper, ground red pepper

Cut the salt pork into small cubes.
Slice the cabbage and onions (approximately ½ & ½)
If you use canned tomatoes, open the can. If not, cook them well ahead of time.

Fry the salt pork in a large, hot, cast iron pot until well browned. (Do NOT drain).
Turn the heat down. Add cabbage and cook until wilted
Add onions and cook until wilted.
Let cook approximately 1 hour (low fire).
Add tomatoes to more than cover.
Simmer.

You can't really overcook this dish. The flavors will blend nicely the longer it cooks.

Add seasonings. Be sure to taste after adding each time. It takes the seasoning a few minutes to make themselves known. Better to add too little than too much. People can add more at the table if they wish.

After approximately 2-3 hours, start tasting. . . . It's the cook's sworn duty to taste test!! If you feel really brave, offer a spoonful to someone else.


auld reekie cock-a-leekie
This is an old Scotch-Irish recipe much favored by soldiers for obvious reasons.

· 5 ounces single-malt Scotch whiskey
· 4 pints water
· 1 tablespoon dried tarragon
· 1 teaspoon brown sugar
· 1 3-pound boiling chicken, giblets removed
· 3 slices streaky bacon, chopped
· 1 pound shin of beef
· 2 pounds leeks, chopped (white and pale parts only)
· 1 large onion, chopped
· salt and pepper to taste
· 8 prunes, pre-soaked

Mix the whiskey with the water, tarragon and sugar. Place the chicken, bacon and beef into a large bowl and pour the whiskey marinade over. Leave to marinate overnight.

Next day, transfer mixture to a large soup pot. Add the leeks (reserving one) and the onion, and season to taste. Bring slowly to a boil, cover, and then simmer for 2 hours, or until the bird is tender. Skim off excess fat from the liquid.

Remove the chicken from the pot, skin, remove bones and cut meat into pieces before returning to the pot (cut up the shin of beef, if necessary). Add the prunes and remaining sliced leek and simmer gently for 10-15 minutes.

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*Contest*

Carolyn will be giving away a copy of A SCRATCH WITH THE REBELS to one lucky commenter! A winner will be picked at random once the SPOTLIGHT is over! So don't forget to leave a comment!!!

Excerpt from BEYOND ALL PRICE by Carolyn Poling Schriber ... *Contest*

Chapter I, "Old Acquaintances"

The young woman waited for Colonel Leasure outside the hastily-erected picket fence surrounding Camp Wilkins. She was tiny, dressed in a simple dark dress of bombazine and a bonnet that shaded her features. But her erect posture, chin lifted and eyes raised to stare straight at the scene before her, made it clear she was neither demure nor humble. Even as the colonel returned her stare and recognized her obvious youth, he was aware she was a formidable personality.

“Madam, I am Colonel Daniel Leasure of the Roundhead Regiment, at your service, M’am.”

“Good morning,” she nodded with a miniscule lifting of the corners of her mouth that might have passed for a smile. “I am Nellie Leath. Mrs. Leath,” she said. “I have come to serve as your matron.”

“Ahhhh, I see. And what, exactly, is a matron?”

“It is my understanding, Sir, that each military regiment is to be accompanied by a skilled woman who can handle the housekeeping chores, so to speak. A matron, as I interpret the term, oversees meals, supplies, and minor medical needs for the soldiers.”

“Oh, I see. And you have been sent by the Sanitary Commission, I presume.”

“Not exactly.” Now the young woman laughed openly. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

“You have me at a disadvantage, M’am. Have we met before?”

“Oh, yes. At York, last June?” She raised an inquiring eyebrow at him, but he still appeared confused. “You were the adjutant with the Twelfth Regiment, and I was a volunteer nurse, assigned to assist Doctor Speer and his small group of surgeons. There wasn’t much need for battlefield services. I spent most of my time helping the women of York who had taken in our soldiers as boarders. You came to York one day to visit some of your men who had fallen ill. I was helping care for two of the most serious cases, Corporal Robert Gibson and Sergeant James Miller. You remember them, I assume.”

“Yes, of course. I found their eventual deaths most upsetting because I had helped to recruit them. And I do remember a young nurse being particularly helpful. But your name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“I was using my maiden name then—Nellie Chase.”

“Ah, yes, I do remember that name. There was a fuss over you, as I recall. Something about you being related to Lincoln’s new Secretary of the Treasury, Salmon P. Chase?”

Nellie winced. “We are only distantly related, if at all. I assure you I have never met the man, and he has never even heard of me. Still, people assumed I had gotten my position with the regiment through some sort of nepotism, while I wanted to be judged on my own merits. That’s why I started using my married name, instead. I’m sorry if that confused you.”

“I still don’t know how you come to be here. Who sent you?”

“No one. I come as a volunteer. I remembered you clearly from York. You impressed me with your kindness, your concern for your men, and your medical knowledge. When I heard you were recruiting a new regiment, to be composed of sincere, God-fearing, and highly moral young men, I sought you out. I want to continue to help in the war effort, and you would seem to be in need of a woman such as I.”

Just then, a commotion broke out behind them as two sopping wet young recruits came running for the camp, arms flailing.

“Ow, ow, oh, ouch, ow,” they yelled. As they neared the colonel, he could see that their faces, red and tear-stained, were covered with angry-looking blotches. Their bare arms, too, were mottled and marked with welts.

“Whoa,” said the colonel. “What company are you in? And what in the devil’s name have you boys gotten yourselves into?”

“Bees, Sir,” said Billy Simpson, the taller of the two. “We’re in Company H, from Lawrence County. Zeb here saw some bees leaving that old hay barn down the road. They were a’comin’ out from behind a loose board, and he pulled on it, hoping to find him some honeycomb. But there was a whole swarm of them and they attacked. We got away by jumping in the cow pond, but not before they took their revenge.”

“We’ve been stung a hundred times, I know,” said Zeb Elliot. “Ow, ow, ow. Sorry, but it burns like fire, Sir.”

“How are you going to be a soldier and stand up to battle, if you can’t even endure a small dispute with bees?” the colonel asked.

“Well, I would hope the rebels don’t come with stingers, Sir.”

“Be that as it may, you must learn self-discipline, soldier.”

“Excuse me,” Nellie interrupted. “Do either of you have some tobacco? If so, may I have it?”

“I had a stogie in my pocket a while back, but I expect it’s pretty soggy by now.” Billy pulled a dripping cigar from his pocket and held it at arm’s length, “Uh, you surely wouldn’t want this, M’am.”

“Yes, indeed. That’s exactly what I need. Hold still, now.” She took the cigar from him and began to pull the wet leaves apart, tearing the tobacco into inch-long pieces. Carefully she layered the patches onto the welts left by the bee stings.

“Ouch,” the men protested as she worked. “It hurts when you touch them.”

“I know. But wait a few minutes. Let me try this.” When she finished, she stepped back and allowed a faint smile to move beyond her lips to light up her eyes. “How do you feel now?”

“Ow! Ah—aahhh. It’s gone!”

“You’re right. They don’t sting anymore. How’d you do that?”

“Yes, Mrs. Leath.” Colonel Leasure raised an inquiring eyebrow. “How did you know to do that?”

“That’s what a matron does, Sir.” Nellie suppressed a laugh and resumed her serious demeanor.

“To answer your question, Granny Merrill—my grandmother—lived with us when I was growing up. She was known as something of a wise woman and treated the minor ills and injuries of the neighboring families. She taught me some of her secret remedies. Wet tobacco for insect bites was one of them.”

“You know, in civilian life, I am a trained doctor,” the colonel told her. “I might have prescribed a paste of baking soda, but tobacco would never have entered my mind. I am impressed.”

“We all have our little stores of useful knowledge, I suppose. Zeb, Billy, leave those patches on until they dry and fall off. You should be fine. And the next time you want to satisfy your sweet tooth, here’s another use for that stogie. Light it and let the smoke penetrate the crack where you think the bees are. It will make the bees sleepy, and you’ll be able to help yourself to a chuck of comb without risking another disaster.”

“Yes, M’am,” they said.

By now a smattering of curiosity-seekers had begun to assemble around the gateway, watching to see what the mutton-chopped colonel was going to do about the young woman who had solved a problem for him. Murmurs and suppressed snickers passed through the crowd. From somewhere near the back, a soft whistle revealed what the onlookers suspected. Reluctant to put on a further show, Colonel Leasure bowed slightly, and offered his arm. “Well, come with me to our headquarters, and we can discuss this further.”

The two picked their way through a mass of soldiers, some cooking over an improvised fire. others pounding tent stakes or practicing their drills in the dust. As they passed, every eye watched them. The homesick soldiers saw Mrs. Leath as mother or sister, or neighbor; the more worldly-wise had other notions. But all were struck by the self-assured figure of this lone woman in a campground full of men.

As they walked, the colonel’s eyes remained slightly downcast as he picked their way around the inevitable obstacles of a makeshift military camp. This also allowed him to keep his surroundings slightly out of focus, so he did not have to see the curious stares or leering grins of the men who watched their progress. Nellie, however, was openly fascinated. She noted everything as they passed, as if she were keeping a mental inventory.

Her eyes twinkled when she noticed a chicken sizzling on a stick over an open fire, while four obviously guilty soldiers pretended to be interested in everything around them except for the purloined fowl. She reacted with a sympathetic smile to a miserable young man who sat staring at a much-creased picture. She noted with interest the men who were reading or writing in their journals. And occasionally she wilted a forward young stud by sneering at his wiggling eyebrows. Nellie recognized and categorized them all as they passed. By the time she and the colonel reached the command tent, she may have known the regiment more intimately than he did.


Visit Carolyn's website- http://www.katzenhausbooks.com/

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*Contest*
Carolyn will be giving away a copy of A SCRATCH WITH THE REBELS to one lucky commenter! A winner will be picked at random once the SPOTLIGHT is over! So don't forget to leave a comment!!!

Getting to know Author Carolyn Poling Schriber...*Contest*

Carolyn Poling Schriber received her PhD in History from the University of Colorado, where she worked in two very different fields: medieval Europe and 19th-century America. She enjoyed a career as a tenured professor at Rhodes College, specializing in medieval history and publishing extensively on relationships between Anglo-Norman bishops and kings in the twelfth century.

She also served as Editor-in-Chief of the Online Reference Book for Medieval Studies (ORB), an early and extremely successful approach to harnessing the resources of the internet to facilitate historical research.

After she retired with Professor Emerita status, she turned her attention to her second love, the history of America's Civil War.

In 2007, Dr. Schriber published an ambitious study of the Battle of Secessionville, the first re-examination of the impact of that battle in over a decade. The book offers a fresh perspective and a valuable new approach to some of the issues concerning the American Civil War.

After extensive research, she successfully blended the personal stories of two opposing soldiers with a detailed account of the battle. With a clear and engaging writing style, A Scratch with the Rebels illuminates the depth and diversity of perspectives from both sides of the conflict. It is an absorbing history for Civil War buffs and historians, as well as a general audience.

Now she has written a historical novel that covers the same period. Beyond All Price tells the story of Nellie M. Chase, who served as matron and nurse in the Roundhead Regiment from Pennsylvania.

Nellie fought her own series of wars, against an abusive husband, against a vengeful Presbyterian minister, against nineteenth-century attitudes toward women who lacked the protection of family status, and ultimately, against a foe more lethal than war itself.

Visit Carolyn's website- http://www.katzenhausbooks.com/
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Our SPOTLIGHT is on Beyond All Price by Carolyn Poling Schriber ...*Contest*

She was an under-age runaway, a battered wife, a lone woman trying to survive in world dominated by men.

Nellie M. Chase joined the Union Army with no credentials and little hope, but she became one of the unsung heroines of the Civil War. Determined to atone for the mistakes of her early life by dedicating her life to the service of others, she rose to a responsible position as head matron of a 600-bed hospital in occupied Nashville. Then she retired into obscurity, where she lingered until the world offered her one last chance to demonstrate her remarkable courage.

This is a historical novel in the best sense of that term. Nellie Chase was a real person—one determined to dedicate her life to the needs of her country. She left no letters and no formal records, except for the memories of those whose lives she touched. Her story, told here by a trained historian, includes facts wherever events can be documented. Fictional descriptions, conversations, and linking events strive to reflect the true nature of the time in which she lived.

As the United States begins a five-year commemoration of the Civil War, this novel offers a glimpse into the day-to-day experiences of the ordinary people whose lives did not make it into the historical record. Readers will sympathize with the struggles of a young woman forced to make her own way outside the normal bonds of society.

The novel contains enough military action to satisfy readers' curiosity about the army experience. Abandoned slaves and fanatical preachers raise controversial issues.

Disasters abound: hurricanes, rampant disease, military fiascos, makeshift operating rooms, collapsing buildings, competing cultures. Nellie's story is history from the inside—a welcome alternative to the standard historical analyses and political arguments that will necessarily dominate the Sesquicentennial events.

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Visit Carolyn's website- http://www.katzenhausbooks.com/

Visit Carolyn's blog- http://www.katzenhausbooks.com/blog.html

Follow Carolyn on Twitter- http://twitter.com/roundheadlady#

Friend Carolyn on Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/carolyn.schriber

*Contest*

Carolyn will be giving away a copy of A SCRATCH WITH THE REBELS to one lucky commenter! A winner will be picked at random once the SPOTLIGHT is over! So don't forget to leave a comment!!!