Postwar Connecticut

With the attack on Pearl Harbor by the Empire of Japan on December 7, 1941, and the United States' entry into World War II, our nation turned to Connecticut--as it did during World War I--for munitions, clothing, and other goods. And Connecticut answered the call: Manchester Mills increased silk production, Waterbury brass producers altered their manufacturing lines, and Bridgeport's Remington Arms--which had produced 50 percent of the US Army's small arms cartridges in World War I--increased its mass production capabilities. By the time Electric Boat, Hamilton Propellers, Pratt & Whitney, and many other Connecticut companies tallied up their production back in 1945, it amounted to over $8 billion in war contracts.

The conflict that historians have called King Philip’s War still ranks as one of the bloodiest per capita in American history. An Indian coalition ravaged much of New England, killing six hundred colonial fighting men (not including their Indian allies), obliterating seventeen white towns, and damaging more than fifty settlements. The version of these events that has come down to us focuses on Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay—the colonies whose commentators dominated the storytelling. But because Connecticut lacked a chronicler, its experience has gone largely untold. As Jason W. Warren makes clear in Connecticut Unscathed, this imbalance has generated an incomplete narrative of the war. Dubbed King Philip’s War after the Wampanoag architect of the hostilities, the conflict, Warren asserts, should more properly be called the Great Narragansett War, broadening its context in time and place and indicating the critical role of the Narragansetts, the largest tribe in southern New England. With this perspective, Warren revises a key chapter in colonial history. In contrast to its sister colonies, Connecticut emerged from the war relatively unharmed. The colony’s comparatively moderate Indian policies made possible an effective alliance with the Mohegans and Pequots. These Indian allies proved crucial to the colony’s war effort, Warren contends, and at the same time denied the enemy extra manpower and intelligence regarding the surrounding terrain and colonial troop movements. And when Connecticut became the primary target of hostile Indian forces—especially the powerful Narragansetts—the colony’s military prowess and its enlightened treatment of Indians allowed it to persevere. Connecticut’s experience, properly understood, affords a new perspective on the Great Narragansett War—and a reevaluation of its place in the conflict between the Narragansetts and the Mohegans and the Pequots of Connecticut, and in American history.

“Serves as a model of what a state-level survey of the Civil War can achieve . . . a potent combination of description and analysis.” —The Civil War Monitor Connecticut in the American Civil War offers a remarkable window into the state’s involvement in a conflict that challenged and defined the unity of a nation. The arc of the war is traced through the many facets and stories of battlefield, home front, and factory. Matthew Warshauer masterfully reveals the varied attitudes toward slavery and race before, during, and after the war; Connecticut’s reaction to the firing on Fort Sumter; the dissent in the state over whether or not the sword and musket should be raised against the South; the raising of troops; the sacrifice of those who served on the front and at home; and the need for closure after the war. This book is a concise, amazing account of a complex and troubling war. No one interested in this period of American history can afford to miss reading this important contribution to our national and local stories.

Over fifty thousand Connecticut soldiers served in the Union army during the Civil War, yet their stories are nearly forgotten today. Among the regiments that served, at least forty sets of brothers perished from battlefield wounds or disease. Little known is the 16th Connecticut chaplain who, as prisoner of war, boldly disregarded a Rebel commander's order forbidding him to pray aloud for President Lincoln. Then there is the story of the 7th Connecticut private who murdered a fellow soldier in the heat of battle and believed the man's ghost returned to torment him. Seven soldiers from Connecticut tragically drowned two weeks after the war officially ended when their ship collided with another vessel on the Potomac. Join author John Banks as he shines a light on many of these forgotten Connecticut Yankees.

Stories of New England soldiers who perished in this bloody battle, based on their diaries and letters. The Battle of Antietam, in September 1862, was the single bloodiest day of the Civil War. In the intense conflict and its aftermath across the farm fields and woodlots near Sharpsburg, Maryland, more than two hundred men from Connecticut died. Their grave sites are scattered throughout the Nutmeg State, from Willington to Madison and Brooklyn to Bristol. Here, author John Banks chronicles their mostly forgotten stories using diaries, pension records, and soldiers’ letters. Learn of Henry Adams, a twenty-two-year-old private from East Windsor who lay incapacitated in a cornfield for nearly two days before he was found; Private Horace Lay of Hartford, who died with his wife by his side in a small church that served as a hospital after the battle; and Captain Frederick Barber of Manchester, who survived a field operation only to die days later. This book tells the stories of these and many more brave Yankees who fought in the fields of Antietam. Includes photos