weddings take place. it's just become a symbol of little rock. so we're awful excited about sharing that with people who come in and frankly, it's a little bit of heaven on earth at least from those folks who get to enjoy it from north little rock. we want to welcome your viewers to north little rock's old mill and ask them to come when they have a chance to be in the neighborhood. >> find out where cspan's local content vehicle rs going next online. you're watching american history tv. all weekend, every weekend on cspan 3. up next is a film produced in 1961 by the u.s. army on two figures from the civil war era. matthew brady and clara barton. the film aired as part of the big picture series from -- into

the 1970s. the series focused on historic battles and figures in u.s. military history. this is about 30 minutes. >> the united states army presents the big picture. an official report produced for the armed forces and the american people. now to show you part of the big pictu picture, here is sergeant stuart queen. >> 100 years ago, a moe mentous event occurred known as the tragic war of brother against brother, the civil war became one of the darkest moments in

our history. out of this period, we have selected two stories to show you. the first is called matthew brady. brady was the first historian of any war and his pictures live on today to recall yesterday's history. the second story is called clara barton and shows a segment from the life of a dedicated woman from the civil war. now, let's go back through history with matthew brady. the camera's eye. the magic eye that captures and hol holds the action in a pinpoint of time. today, the camera serves as uses and yet for most of us, photography appeals by fixing chapters in our lives and in the lives of those around us.

but there was a day before the high speed precision instrument. a wooden box camera. fortunately for us, it was also a day when a small group of pioneers with imagination foresaw the possibilities of that magic eye. matthew brady. a young new york state farm boy was chief among those. in addition to his own work, brady collected the prints of others, building a pictorial record of our american past. the nation's capitol in an era of unpaved dirt streets and horse drawn vehicles. replacing that earlier was a --

of our presence. when we think of those past presidents. john quincy adams. martin van buren. andrew jackson. their faces were made familiar through the work of matthew brady, preserved for us, too, are those early writers. pride of our early growing culture. nathaniel hawthorne. edgar allen pau. washington irvin. the beloved poet, walt whitman and what schoolboy doesn't know the faces of our statesman? henry clay. john calhoun. daniel webster. men who shaped and guided our

young republic. they built well, but soon within the country's capitol, still awaiting the completion of the now familiar dome, the storm clouds of the slavery issue threatened national unity. as the crisis sharpened, brady saw a new use for the camera. abraham lincoln, whom brady has photographed as a young congressman from illinois now sat in washington as president of the divided nation. from him, brady received permission to make a record of the war that could not be held back. we are coming, father abraham, so sang the volunteer units responding to lincoln's call to arm.

hastily constructed camps sprung up. cruel by today's standards. the growing manpower had to be simplied and equipped, furnished with the weapons needed to fight this country bloodiest war. means to move these simplies were organized and assembled. this was a day before the phrase motor pool had been coined. old doben was the hay powered engine that turned the wheels of war. the now middle-aged brady and his assistants recorded all. what is it wagons was the name soldiers gave to the mysterious horse drawn photo labs brady

sent into the field. the contraptions were to become a familiar sight where ever men were trained. training them meant the close order drill, but also, long formation. such as a defense against cavalry attack. the cigarette had not been invented, but the civilian termed soldier welcomed that brief break from duty. preparation has is own grim ends. presently, the capitol itself has to defend against determined attack. war now in full violence was being carried to our inland

waters as well as on the high seas. the nation's shipyards were churning out newer, more effective gun boats. for the first time, naval warfare saw revolutionary new ships sheathed in armor. the expanding navy had ceased to be the property of the new england states with their deeply rooted sea faring traditions. men and more men were needed and they came from inland cities in the western plains. mechanic and farmer proved they, too, could develop sea legs and man a 40 pounder. mere boys were enlisted, too. the awakening sciences of the century found uses on the

battlefield. the telegraph from which emerged today's signal, brought new speed spo communications, so highly technical was their work considered that even linesmen were often civilian tech niss. born, too, was warfare ice first venture into the skies. balloon recog sans. the balloon was frequently set adrift in belief that a breeze would carry it back. sometimes, it did. the publicly endowed united states sanitary commission. one day, it would evolve into our present american red cross.

the tragic aspect of all wars past and future were soon evidence. this was richmond, virginia. charleston. fredericksburg. war meant, too, the uprooted the homeless ref jew. the prisoner of war doomed to captivity under sub zero conditions. these were the wounded in an era when the trifling flesh wound would leave to gang green and amputation. when hospitals were few and far behind the lines. finally, war meant those who would fight no more so ended 483,000 americans north and

south a total not even reached in world war ii. what do we know of the man who serve served? ? like his counterpart today, he lived in countless streets. winter quarters were log shacks built by himself. he knew fatigue and details and he killed boredom in his own way. polished up before endless inspections and reviews. when and where possible, he enjoyed rare visits from family and friends. there was no handy ps, but licensed trades men called settlers set up shop and followed the troops into the field and on their campaigns.

great grandpa posed for photos to send to his girl back home and his own buddies, like today, there was always one comic. one clown. the servicemen of that far off day carried his fate off to the field. douglas would pray for survival for the war's end. it came at appomattox that general lee surrendered to general grant. yes, peace came, but only after battlefields like gettysburg has

immortalized in blood t courage of brother raged against brother. gettysburg, when a parade and now forgotten ceremonies introduced inevitably forgotten address by the war weary lincoln. within two years, the president dedicated the binding to nation's wounds was shot down by john wilkes booth. camera brings the final scene. of the presidential box where the tragedy struck. it brings us to the actress laura keen. the last person on whom the unsuspecting president's gaze rested. it is even preserved for us the 21-year-old dr. leal who emerged

from the crowd to attend the dying lincoln. an era had ended. the first, but not the last to be seen through the magic eye of the camera. the pages of our history with new pages yet to be added. all our yesterdays are preserved for generations to come. for this achievement, a major share of our gratitude must rest with the man whose foresight made it possible. earliest of american combat photographers, he lived to within four years of our own sanctuary. the pioneer, matthew brady. >> clara barton is famous in history today as the founder of the american red cross. to the wounded soldiers of the civil war, both the blue and the gray however, she was remembered as the angel of mercy who fed

them and treated their wounds. she had no official family. she received no money for her services. yet this dedicated woman devoted her life to the cause of humanity. >> it was the fall of 1862. for more than a year, the civil war had ranged and the union army had known only a series of sharp defeats. casualties were high and the means of caring for them tragically inadequate. already a part of history with the battles as we know as bull run, the seven days and jackson's valley campaign, each had been a costly favor and in the north, people began to wonder if the south could be defeated an the union preserved.

in the most tragic fighting our nation has known, american fought against american and the casualty lists for both sides skyrocketed as on american hills and valleys, cannon and musket flung their hot metal among the men and horses on both sides. the spectacle of suffering was hideous. perhaps especially so to clara barton. for she decided to do something about it. the already spare face of the man in the white house seemed to grow even more gaunt under a constant flow of criticism for urgent demands for an early ending to the war. general lee did not help the

situation as south of the potomac, he added a measure by routing a vastly superior union force at manassis junction. general john polk was simply outgeneral and fought by lee's troops under stonewall jackson. flushed with repeated successes and confident of their own destiny, lee's forces took the offensi offensive. word was flashed to washington that the army of virginia was invading the north. speculation andrew mor remorgan to whisper.

lincoln sent word to the chief of the union army. general gorge mcclellan had been a disgrace after his campaign. now, lincoln summoned him back. his orders, stop lee at all costs. those costs were to be high. on september 17th, 1862, union and confederate forces would meet at antedum creek. more than 100,000 men would be involved in a bloody battle. and one woman, clara barton, would carve for herself a unique place in the annals of service to mankind.

the day the battle began however, she was just a dedicated woman driving a wagon full of provisions across the maryland country side. years later, she would recall that day and retell it in our own words. >> with my attendant, i sought the hill tops and as the mist cleared away and the morning sun broke over the maryland heights, its rays fell upon the forms of dying men. many of you may never hear bugle notes which call men to battle, but if like us, you have heard them that grim september morning as they rang through the valley, they would have lingered in your ears as they do in mine. ♪ thinking our place

might be there, we had been following the army since dawn. for the last eight miles we could trace its course by the broken bodies of the wounded along the roadside. ♪ turning into the cornfield near a house and barn we stopped in the rear of the last gun. judging surgeons must be operating there i took my arms full of stimulants, bandages and approached the house. the smell of death hung heavy in the yard. a table stood on the porch with a wounded man lying on it, a surgeon working over him with

the most rudimentary equipment. there i came face to face with one of the kindest, noblest doctors i have ever known. dr. dunn of pennsylvania. i quickly learned of his difficulties, they had not a bandage, rag, lint or string and all around him shell wounded men were bleeding to death. with a great joy i laid my precious burden down among them and thought that never before had linen looked so white. determined to set up aid in the yard i told him of my needs and he dispatched a soldier to help me with the unloading of supplies. there was a spring house in the yard, and i decided to use this as my headquarters. my instructions were to unload

the provisions and place them inside for the ordeal that was to follow. we had met wounded men walking or being carried to the rear for the last two miles. but around the barn there lay the men who were too badly wounded to admit removal. some 300 had collected already and it was scarcely 10:00. the echo of the guns promised there would be many more. my first act on the field taught me the real tragedy of battle. a man called to me for a drink. i stopped to give it. having raised him in my arms was holding him. he fell back, dead. a bullet had sped between us, tearing a hole in my sleeve and burying itself in his body.

there was no more to be done for him and i left him to his rest. i have never mended that hole in my sleeve. and i wonder if the soldier ever does mend a bullet hole in his coat. the patient endurance of these men was astonishing. by the wooden fence a soldier lay with a bullet lodged in the bones of his cheek. i told him i would go for the surgeon but he caught my arm. they can't come for me now, he said. i have to wait my turn. please, you take the bullet out for me. this was a new call the i had never severed the nerves and fibers of the human flesh. but i could not with stand his entreatise. nearby lay a sergeant from illinois with a bullet through both his legs. when he saw i had no way of supporting the soldier's head, he shoved himself along the

ground with a desperate effort and took the wounded man's head in his hands. i do not think a surgeon would have pronounced it a sigh yen tiff uk operation. the doctor suffered almost as much as the patient. from the relief the man had from his pain, i dared to hope it was successful. three times that day, the ground was contested, lost and won, and each time it brought hundreds of wounded from the field to our crowded ground. each had to be aided and each

drained our supplies to the danger mark. at 2:00, an attendant came to tell me the last loaf of bread had been cut and the last cracker pounded. we had three boxes of wine still unopened. what should they do? open the wine and give them that, i said. and, god help us. the next instant brought a shout from sergeant fields who had opened the first box. of 12 boxes of wine which we carried the first nine were packed in saw dust. these last three when all else was gone were found to be packed in indian cornmeal. a woman does not hesitate long under such circumstances. there was a fireplace in the spring house. kettles were picked up and set over the fire. as quickly as i tell it i was mixing water and meal for grue

all the day my men carried buckets of hot gruel for miles down the line to the wounded and dying where they fell. food was given both north and south alike. recognizing the need, not the uniform. never again was i to experience such a sensation of wealth and compa tensy. we fed hundreds that day. for many it was the first meal since the guns of battle exploded that morning. for many it provided the will and the strength to endure their pain.

twilight began to descend. and there were still many to be tended. for the first time since i arrived i saw dr. dunn stop work and stand alone in the darkness. you look tired, doctor, i said. yes, he was tired. tired of neglect and heartlessness. here were hundreds of men to be operated on and there was no light to work by. it was then that i called for the lanterns i had brought in the wagons. he looked at me. saying little. but his eyes reflected his gratitude. through the long, starlit night we worked and hoped and prayed, the lights were never snuffed and the tables were never empty. to some we could promise repair

and hope. all we could give to other was a comfortable place to die. men died that night. slowly, and with full realization that life was ebbing out of them. it was to be a northern victory, but the victory was costly for both sides. while the guns grew silent, the sounds of tortured men filled the air as an encore of battle. how does one measure victory. it was a victory for the union, the canon on the field while the foe retreated across the river. the high tide of the confederacy was turned back. the emancipation proclamation was born. but to me, the real victory, the real courage of that memorable

day was the endurance of all of the soldiers to the greatest physical agony and mental anguish, the greatest inhumanity that man can create for man. to them belongs the honor, the memory, the triumph of that day. throughout the weekend on american history tv on cspan 3, watch personal interviews about historic events on oral histories. our history bookshelf features some of thest