; 477 
 
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 !opy 1 
 
 Carrjinf tlie M of Leo's SiirreaiiGr 
 ^^^lo tiie irffiy of tke Obio 
 
Carryiiio; the News of Lee's Surrender 
 ^^— To the Ariiiv of the Ohio. 
 
 J^ ^papers 
 
 READ BEFORE THE 
 
 OHIO COMMANDERY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Military Order of Hie Loyal Legion 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Unit^kd States, 
 
 NOVEMBER 2, 1887. 
 
 AUGUSTUS J. RICKS 
 
 MASSILLON, OHIO, 
 
 Lale \st Lieutenant 104M 0. V. I. 
 
 CINCINNATI : 
 
 H. C. SHERICK & CO. 
 
^ 
 
 </S 
 
 
 IN EXCHANGE 
 
 JAN 5 - 1915 
 
CaiTvin<^ the News of Lee's Siirreiider to 
 the Ariiiv of the Ohio. 
 
 The month of April, 1S65, was momentous in its 
 events relating to the War of the Rebellion. The vet- 
 eran armies of the West and East were marshaling in 
 Virginia and North Carolina for the last great struggle. 
 The Army of the Ohio, transported from the field of its 
 recent victories in Tennessee, had assisted in opening 
 the ports of the Atlantic, so that supplies could be accu- 
 mulated at such points as Sherman might find it neces- 
 sary to touch, in his march from Savannah through the 
 Carolinas. Having secured Wilmington and moved up 
 the coast to Goldsboro, where food and clothing and 
 munitions of war were sent from Newberne, we heard 
 the thunders of Sherman's guns at Bentonville, and, 
 marching toward the sound of the artillery, effected a 
 junction with the lost army and restored its communi- 
 cations with the armies in Virginia and with the National 
 Capital. In quick succession great events were trans- 
 piring, and associated with them was an incident with 
 which I was conspicuously connected. Its character is 
 such that I will be pardoned, I am sure, if I use it to- 
 night to entertain you for a few moments and enable 
 you to recall with me those stirring scenes connected 
 with the close of our army life. 
 
 On a bright day in April, 1865, Major-General J. D. 
 
— 4 — 
 
 Cox, commanding the Twenty-third Army Corps, with 
 his staff and escort, were riding leisurely at the head 
 of the marching column on the road to the capital of 
 North Carolina. The latest news we had had from 
 Grant was of the fierce struggles about Richmond, its 
 evacuation, and Lee's flight toward Central Virginia. 
 We were pushing on toward Raleigh to prevent a con- 
 solidation of Johnston's and Lee's armies; and though 
 hourly expecting news of important movements, we 
 had no expectation of decisive victory. As I was riding 
 by the General's side, speculating with him as to John- 
 ton's probable movements, an orderly rode slowly 
 toward us, bearing a message. General Cox opened it 
 in the usual business-like manner, and read it over as he 
 would have done an ordinary official communication. 
 There was nothing in the manner of the messenger to 
 indicate that he was the bearer of any unusual or im- 
 portant news, and he sat listlessly on his horse while 
 a receipt was being written for the message. Happen- 
 ing then to cast my eyes toward the General, I noticed 
 his face suddenly brighten, and in great animation he 
 turned and directed the escort and staff to be drawn up 
 in line, that he might read to them a message from Gen- 
 eral Sherman. It was done in a hurry, and with head 
 uncovered he read a brief dispatch stating that General 
 Lee, with his entire army, had surrendered to Grant at 
 Appomattox. It was the message long looked for, long 
 fought for, and though it came to us on the roadside so 
 unexpectedly, its full significance was at once appreci- 
 ated It meant home, and wife, and children, and happy 
 meetings, throughout the land. The cheers that rang 
 through that North Carolina pine thicket from the head- 
 quarters' staff' and escort of a battalion of cavalry were 
 
— 5 — 
 
 spirited enough to fill the whole dome of the heavens 
 above us. Before the message was read General Cox 
 ordered all hats off and throats cleared for three rous- 
 ing cheers. Our horses' reins were loosened and 
 thrown on their necks, and hats W(^re off as fast as 
 ready hands could catch them. As the cheers rang out, 
 prompt and sharp, my horse, becoming frightened, 
 whirled quick as a flash, and before I could gather my 
 bridle reins to check him, was at full speed, headed 
 toward the approaching column. I had hardly slack- 
 ened his rapid strides, when the thought flashed upon 
 me that it would be a glorious thing to carry such news 
 to the twenty thousand men of the Twenty-third Army 
 Corps, who were marching on the broad road before 
 me, all unconscious of the glad tidings that awaited 
 them. It needed no second thought. If any additional 
 incentive had been needed, I had it in the clatter of 
 horses' hoofs behind me. Accompanying the corps on 
 the day's march were two correspondents — one of the 
 New York Tribune and one of the Cincinnati Gazette. 
 They noticed the rapid dash of my horse toward the 
 marching troops, and with the quick instinct common 
 to men in their calling, guessed that it was my purpose 
 to carry the news to the brave men of the Army of the 
 Ohio. Thinking, perhaps, that it was an unwarranted 
 intrusion in their line of business, they both put spurs 
 to their horses to overtake me and make the ride famous 
 as the achievement of the special correspondent of the 
 Tribu7ie or the Gazette^ whichever should first secure 
 the right of way. But my horse was too fleet for them. 
 Spurring and giving free reins to the excited animal, 
 he flew over the ground like a greyhound, seeming to 
 know that a ride of unusual significance was before 
 
him. Soon I came in sight of the head of the column, 
 Major-General Couch and staff leading the Second 
 Division. They had heard our cheers, and as they saw 
 me coming down the road at full speed, with hat off, 
 waving for a clear road by which to pass to the rear, 
 they parted ranks to the right and left, and opened a 
 clear passage in the center of the highway. As soon 
 as I was within shouting distance, I cried out: "Lee, 
 with his whole arm}^ has surrendered to Grant. Make 
 way for the bearer of the glorious news!" Then their 
 wild cheers rang out to swell those of the staff and the 
 headquarters' escort, which could still be heard at my 
 rear. But a few rods back of General Couch and his 
 staff was the head of the infantry column — the iiith 
 Ohio Regiment. The men saw how the right of way 
 had been quickly given to the horse and rider by Gen- 
 eral Couch and his escort in front of them, and as I 
 waved to them to open ranks and give me the roadway, 
 they responded with a will, and, breaking to the right 
 and left, gave me a straight, open road to the rear. 
 Into this living lane, skirted with lines of anxious faces, 
 I dashed with a quick gallop, leaving my pursuers be- 
 hind, surrounded by the confused ranks of a wild army, 
 to whom their pleas for right of way were of such utter 
 insignificance as not to even secure them notice. The 
 last I saw of my newspaper friends they had taken to 
 the fields and were tr3^ing to get in advance of me in 
 that way 5 but fences and woods impeded them, and at 
 last, in despair, they stopped to see me forging ahead, 
 followed by the plaudits and tears of a grateful soldiery. 
 At the head of each regiment, with horse at full speed, 
 and as often as I could repeat it to the anxious listeners, 
 I cried out, with the waving of my hat, "Lee has sur- 
 
— 7 — 
 
 rendered, with his whole army, to Grant." Onward I 
 pressed my way through the surging ranks — before me 
 the open road, lined on each side with excited men 
 leaning forward to catch the first sound of the good 
 news they were all so impatient to hear — behind me, a 
 wild, tumultuous crowd of soldiers suddenly touched 
 with th'e lunacy of joy, if they were to be judged by 
 their actions, pounding each other with knapsacks, 
 waving blankets on the points of their bayonets, pound- 
 ing canteens with belt buckles, and making a pande- 
 monium of sounds and a circus of tumbling and 
 vaulting. It was news that needed no explanation. It 
 carried indescribable joy and relief to those brave men 
 upon whom the long suspense of weary marches and 
 indecisive battles were fast taxing patience and exhaust- 
 ing strength. It meant a speedy end of marching under 
 a hot Southern sun with heavy knapsacks, and a happy 
 reunion at home. It meant but few more, if any, 
 bloody battles, with the chances of war leaving them 
 crippled or dead upon the field, and the wild plaudits of 
 a grateful people released from the throes of war. 
 It meant good-bye to tent and camp, and the wild 
 exultation of the homeward march through streets 
 filled with joyous friends, and under banners flaunting 
 from every house-top and window in the dear old home 
 town, from whence messages of love and prayers for 
 safe return had followed them from the first day of 
 enlistment. It meant but few more nights on picket 
 duty, but a final happy reunion around the old hearth- 
 stone, where home and all its blessings awaited them. 
 This was the meaning of those brief words that I cried 
 out with such wild excitement to 20,000 men; and for 
 eight long miles, through ranks of infantry regiments. 
 
— 8 — 
 
 through batteries of artillery, by the ambulance and 
 hospital trains, rode the one man to whom every ear 
 was turned — the one bearer of tidings whose voice 
 filled every heart with joy and gratitude. And do you 
 wonder, companions, when I say to you to-night, that I 
 look back upon that incident as the happiest and most 
 eventful one of my army life ? I wish I had the gift to 
 tell you of all its striking points, of how differently 
 strong men gave expression to their joys. Some were 
 too much overcome to speak; some shouted themselves 
 hoarse, while others cried; some were wild with their 
 demonstrations, while others were calm and thoughtful, 
 and secretly breathed a prayer for their safe deliverance 
 from the long series of dangers to which they had been 
 exposed. 
 
 The scenes, so long as my ride carried me through 
 divisions and brigades of marching men, strong in step 
 and toughened by the exposures of years of active 
 service, were altogether inspiring and joyous, unalloyed 
 with any misgivings of fears for their ultimate and 
 speedy reunion with loved ones at home. But when 
 I came to the hospital train, moving slowly and guardedly 
 along, quite a different scene awaited me. The poor 
 men who filled the ambulances, watching impatiently 
 for the bearer of the news to reach them, wearily 
 leaned their heads out of the curtained sides to catch 
 the earliest glimpse of the approaching messenger. 
 As I reached them I slackened my pace and repeated 
 my message to the occupants of each ambulance. Their 
 pale faces beamed with joy, and slowly, but with all the 
 energy and strength they could summon, they waved 
 their thin hands and tried to join in the shouts and the 
 demonstrations of their hardier and more fortunate 
 
— 9 — 
 
 comrades. The news was too late for some of them, 
 too plainly the mark of death was upon them; and sad 
 indeed it was to think, that just as the whole nation was 
 delirious with joy over the long-looked for Angel of 
 Peace, the shadow (not the light) of its spreading wings 
 was to fall upon their last hours. To die almost within 
 sight of home, and almost within hearing of the welcome 
 greetings of loved ones, was a sadder fate than to have 
 gone down amid the storm and fury of the battle-field. 
 
 Passing on from this sad part of my ride, I witnessed 
 scenes of a more livening nature. 
 
 At the top of a hill, as I neared the end of my long 
 ride, I saw a general, well known to all regiments in 
 the Army of the Ohio, anxiously looking for the bearer 
 of the good news; for long before I could be seen, the 
 men could hear the wild cheering from the head of the 
 column gradually growing louder and nearer, and there- 
 fore knew that news of unusual importance was coming 
 by the hands of some bearer. As I came within hailing 
 distance he recognized me, and cried out: "Ricks, 
 what is it — for God's sake, what is it? " I had grown so 
 hoarse from constant repetition of the message in the 
 midst of such great noise and confusion that I could 
 scarcely speak aloud; but when near enough, I again 
 repeated: " Lee has surrendered with his whole army 
 to Grant.'' Quick as a flash, and with the agility of a 
 boy, he clapped his heels together, and with a wild yell 
 turned a complete somersault in the road and ran back 
 to his command — a part of the Third Division — which 
 had just drawn off" from the road for dinner. The 
 assembly was immediately sounded, and beginning with 
 the field oflHcers and the band of the first regiment, 
 and followed by the line officers and color bearers, we 
 
lO 
 
 marched down the front of the regiment, and so along 
 the front of each succeeding regiment of the division, 
 the bands playing and colors waving, the triumphal pro- 
 cession being greeted by the men of each regiment in 
 line with cheers and salutes suitable to the occasion. 
 Before we reached the last regiment we had a royal 
 procession of officers, and bands, and color bearers that 
 in itself was an extraordinary spectacle. 
 
 The quick wit of the soldier is proverbial, but I 
 never heard a more striking proof of it than on the 
 occasion I am describing. In one of the regiments, as 
 I was sweeping through the ranks, I caught the bright 
 face of a soldier leaning out beyond the lines as far as 
 possible to catch the first sound from my lips. "' What 
 is it, what is it.-* " he anxiously shouted. " Lee has sur- 
 rendered with his whole army to Grant," was the reply. 
 Clear and loud, above all the voices, and quick as the 
 message fell upon his waiting ears, was his answer: 
 "Great God! You're the man I've been looking for, for 
 the last four years." What a world of meaning there 
 was in that prompt answer! True enough, that was the 
 news a whole nation of wearied people were waiting 
 for — that was the message the whole army had been 
 looking for through long campaigns of hard marches 
 and desperate battles; but it took the quick wit of a 
 bright soldier to express it tersely and aptly. Near the 
 rear of the corps I found the 104th Regiment, O. V. I., 
 of which I was a member. Some children living near 
 by, attracted by the novel sight of men suddenly spring- 
 ing to their feet, jumping on knapsacks, battering can- 
 teens against each others' muskets, throwing hats in the 
 air and playing foot-ball with haversacks, jumping at 
 leap-frog and frantically embracing each other, had run 
 
— II — 
 
 over to watch the strange antics and find out what it all 
 meant. Their mothers, in great distress, went after 
 them, as much perhaps to hear the news as to rescue ' 
 their children from the "Yankee" soldiers. When they 
 heard the cause of all the excitement, they were as much 
 overcome as the "Yankees" themselves; and one of 
 them, with her long hair streaming in the wind, knelt down 
 in the road, and clasping her children, thanked God 
 again and again that the dreadful war was over and 
 their father would soon be home. I asked her in which 
 of the rebel armies her husband was serving, and she 
 said, " Oh, with Lee, with Lee." The touching scene 
 so impressed me that I took the trouble to inquire after- 
 ward about the father, only to learn that he had been 
 killed in one of the last battles about Richmond. Her 
 expressions of gratitude at the news of the close of the 
 war hardly died on the ear, until it gave way to the 
 grief and despair of a home desolated by the ravages 
 of war, and robbed of a husband's and father's care and 
 love. And here, having galloped for over an hour, 
 through eight miles of marching troops, I reached the 
 end of my ride, repeating my message for the last time 
 to old companions, and closing the exciting incident, 
 w^atching with fresh interest the same wild demonstra- 
 tions I had seen repeated in every regiment of the corps. 
 But as soon as the reaction from the great strain under 
 which I had made the ride came, both horse and rider 
 needed the kind help which willing hands offered. I 
 found myself so hoarse that for days I could not speak 
 above a whisper. My horse, now covered with foam 
 and dust, no longer spurred by the wild shouts that had 
 filled his ears through the excitement of his long gal- 
 lop, was quickly surrounded by an admiring throng, all 
 
12 
 
 anxious to give him the grooming he had so richly 
 earned. 
 
 After a little rest I started to slowly retrace my 
 steps toward headquarters, which I did not reach until 
 late in the day. The ride through the corps, though 
 free from the excitement of the one in the morning 
 was full of interest, and coupled with incidents al- 
 ways to be recalled with the greatest pleasure. The 
 feeling that was uppermost in the thoughts of all, was 
 that the war was over. All restraint and discipline were 
 for the time abandoned. The strain of four long years 
 of anxiety and suspense was suddenly thown off, and 
 the few hours of tumult and exultation that had inter- 
 vened since I had brouofht them the most welcome news 
 of their lives, had already given place to the more se- 
 rious considerations of the returning responsibilities of 
 their muster out, so unexpectedly confronting them. To 
 the large majority of the people throughout the North 
 the day was one of unalloyed joy and relief. The dark 
 clouds of uncertainty that had enveloped their country 
 and business had only to lift, and let the sunlight fall 
 upon their homes, without a vacant chair. While they 
 had shared in the general anxiet}^ for the preservation 
 of the government and the risks that made every busi- 
 ness venture during that period attended with unusual 
 care, they could now feel the new impulse, which re- 
 stored confidence and rapidly returning prosperity sent 
 into every channel of trade. There had been no break 
 in their family circles, no disarrangement in business 
 relations, and now in the glad day of peace there were 
 no uncertainties for them. But all through the ranks 
 about me, in the midst of the most unrestrained revelry^ 
 I could catch enough of their conversation to know that 
 
— 13 — 
 
 already these men were anxiously discussing the chances 
 that awaited them when they returned to the duties of 
 civil life. There were young men among them who had 
 left their schools and colleges, who were now too old to 
 return to them to finish their education. The day was 
 therefore at hand for them, when their life work was to 
 be chosen. There were men of years and families, 
 who had hastily left valuable situations. Others had 
 taken their places, and the chances of their return- 
 ing to such positions were being discussed. There 
 were men who had left important business interests 
 which others had taken during their absence, and the 
 probabilities of new ventures were to be considered. 
 They had gone out from their peaceful pursuits un- 
 trained to the duties of the soldier and unaccustomed 
 to the dangers and privations of army life. They had 
 passed through the perils of battles, the hardships of 
 marches, the exposures of the camp, and had in their 
 respective spheres contributed to the great triumphs of 
 the mightiest volunteer armies ever organized. Some 
 of them, rising to the full measure of the opportunities 
 presented them, had demonstrated the wonderful capa- 
 bilities of the American citizen soldier, and were sure 
 to return to their homes to receive the highest honors 
 and rewards a grateful people could bestow. And so, 
 slowly retracing my steps amid these happy and buoy- 
 ant men, I learned of their anxieties and expectations 
 lor the future. I had been with most of their regiments 
 from the earlier days of their organization, and knew 
 the story of their service. I knew they were the same 
 men whose voices I had heard filling the pine forests 
 of Georgia with hurrahs, when Hood's army stole out 
 from Atlanta and left it a dismantled fortress in Septem- 
 
— 14 — 
 
 ber, 1864. They had followed Johnston and Hood 
 from Chattanooga; furrowed Northern Georgia with 
 one hundred and seventy-five miles of trenches and 
 earthworks, and left a for<-ified camp to mark every 
 nights tenting place from May to September. They 
 had measured bayonets with the best Confederate army 
 ever marshaled in the West, at Resaca, New Hope 
 Church, Utoy Creek, and all the struggles for the pos- 
 session of Atlanta. These were the men whom Sher- 
 man had left to guard Tennessee and Kentucky from 
 raids, while Hood was to follow him to the sea. They 
 were the men, however, upon whom it devolved to fight 
 that desperate army, which, instead of trailing after 
 Sherman as he marched through Georgia, turned the 
 head of its columns toward the Ohio, and with resolute 
 valor and rapid marches was thundering with its bat- 
 teries in the heart of Tennessee before Sherman had 
 tramped half way to Savannah. These were the men 
 who, with the unbridged Harpeth River behind them, 
 and Hood's picked regiments in far superior numbers 
 before them, stood with such heroism to their guns, as 
 to pile up in the bloody trenches before them, in propor- 
 tion to the troops involved, more dead and wounded 
 men than fell in any other single conflict in the war, 
 and made the battle of Franklin, for the numbers en- 
 gaged and the issues at stake, one of the bloodiest and 
 most decisive victories of the war. It was, when look- 
 ing down from higher ground upon their thin* lines, just 
 before the battle, that Hood said to General Cleburn 
 and his other division commanders, " We have but to 
 drive that half-whipped army into the river, and our 
 march to the Ohio will be rapid and easy.'' The des- 
 perate resistance at Franklin, and the glorious victory 
 
— 15 — 
 
 at Nashville, prevented Hood from marching to the 
 gates of Cincinnati, and made the great results of the 
 March to the Sea possible. And having thus, with 
 their comrades of co-operating armies, saved Indiana 
 and Ohio from a rebel invasion in the fourth year of the 
 war, and driven Hood's army, broken and dismembered, 
 south of the Tennessee, they had come to help open 
 the Atlantic ports, and were now marching in high 
 glee toward Raleigh to share in the glory of the final 
 surrender. 
 
 To this gallant little army, and to men of such illus- 
 trious services, I had carried the greatest news of all the 
 war. Their ringing shouts for deliverance from the 
 perils of the field still sound like sweet music in my 
 ears; and the radiant faces of strong men, wearied with 
 the strain of hopes deferred, who saw suddenly unfold- 
 ing to their brightening vision the scenes of a speedy 
 reunion with loved ones at home^ is a picture I shall 
 carry in memory long as life shall last, and make for- 
 ever precious to me, the recollections of how I carried 
 the news of Lee's surrender to the Army of the Ohio.