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COL. DANIEL MCCOOK, ,IK. 
 
Dan. McCook's Regiment, 
 
 S2nd O.V.I. 
 
 A History of the Regiment, Its Campaigns 
 and Battles. 
 
 FROM 1862 TO l86^. 
 
 BY ^' 
 
 REV. NIXON B. STEWART, 
 SERGT. CO. E, 52nd O. V. 1, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR, 
 1900. 
 
92451 
 
 DEC 22 1900 
 
 SECOND COPY 
 OROCA DIVISION 
 
 JAN 10 1901 I 
 
 COPYRIGHTED. 1900, 
 BY N. B. STEWART. 
 
 
 niVICW PRINT, 
 ALLIANCE, OHIO, 
 
 1900. 
 
• ^ V r. 
 
 To 
 The damrarirs nf the 32ntl 0. U 4. 
 anil 
 The ^ons and ^ttanghters of the Regiment 
 
 This ^Inlnnte is ^^ff ectinnatelii 
 jnscrihBd. 
 
M&*.-: 
 
 SKKtiT. N. B. STEAVAKT, CO. K 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THOMAS Carlisle makes a picture of "The Execution of 
 The Twenty-Two," in the days of the French Revo- 
 lution. Arriving at the scaffold they begin singing the 
 Marsellaise — "March on, march on, the avenging sword 
 unsheath." But the headsman's ax was busy and swift, 
 the defiant chorus wore a Way. As voice after voice was 
 hushed, the chorus was weaker. It wore quite away. It 
 had become a solo. It had become a silence. 
 
 The time is coming when there will be none left to 
 sing an army song with a voice made tender by experi- 
 ence. 
 
 When a soldier dies, there is a historian lost. With the 
 engrossing cares and duties of a busy life, I have found time 
 at last to tell you what we did and how we did it. 
 
 Hoping that I have in some measure succeeded in 
 meeting the wishes of my comrades, and thus freshen their 
 memory in the history of the Regiment and flag we fol- 
 lowed, I give you one and all a cordial and fraternal greet- 
 ing. Nixon B. Stewart, 
 
 Claysville, O. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 From Camp Dennison to Ivouisville. - - _ . q 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Ivouisville to Perryville, - - - . . - 20 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Nashville and Brentwood, - - . . . ^2 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Nashville to Chattanooga, - - - _ . 47 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Battle of Chickamauga, - - . . . eg 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Our Stay at North Chickamauga, - - - . 65 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Mission Ridge and Relief of Burnside, " - - 73 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 McAfee Church and Lee and Gordon's Mills, - - 84 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Atlanta Campaign to the Taking of Rome, - - - 94 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 From Dallas to Kenesaw, ----- jqc 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Battle of Kenesaw Mountain, - - _ . n, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Kenesaw Evacuation, Battle of Peach Tree Creek and Jonesboro, 126 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Resting in Atlanta and P'orest's Raid, - . - j^s 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Marching Through Georgia, - - - . j^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Into South Carolina— Columbia Captured, - - - 154 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 Cioldsboro — to the Close, - - - - . i5y 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 52nd O. V. I. Association, ----- 186 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Association of the Sons and Daughters of the Regiment, - 187 
 
 The Organization, - - - - - . jg^ 
 
 Roster of the 52nd O. V. I., - - - - - . 205 
 
COL. J. TAVr.OR HOLMES. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 FROM CAMP DENNISON TO LOUISVILLE. 
 
 AS we pause upon the threshold of this Httle book, we 
 find that ahnost thirty-five years have passed since 
 the 52nd Ohio witnessed the terrible death gasp of the 
 dying Confederacy at Raleigh, North Carolina, and with 
 Sherman's army we unfurled the old flag and set our faces 
 homeward. 
 
 For years I have been trying to write our story, but the 
 engrossing cares of my ministerial life made it impossible, 
 until one morning at our annual reunion, I awoke to find the 
 old flag we had followed, folded and standing in one corner 
 of the room. 
 
 As I gaze^. upon its tattered folds, a new inspiration 
 thrilled my soul, and we said, "Dear old flag — how I love 
 you." If some hidden oracle within thy folds could only 
 speak of those days of trial and suffering, through which 
 this nation passed, what memories you would awaken — How 
 the brave men who followed you would gather round, and 
 listen — and as they grew old turn their dim eyes toward 
 your faded folds, their withered hands would seem to touch 
 again the trusty sword or gun, and grasping the panorama 
 of the most eventful period of that life, would see it all again; 
 the marching column, the waving b mners, the shout of vic- 
 tory. Then will come the end. 
 
 And instantly some stray nerve of mine felt down its 
 way at last to that pencil point, and almost before I knew it, 
 I was writing my heart out in admiration and love for the 
 
 —9— 
 
courage and fortitude of those comrades of mine, who we^e 
 splendid in doing, and grand in suffering. 
 
 The Sons and Daughters of the Regiment, recently or- 
 ganized, may find interest in this narrative, for they turn 
 with pride to their father's record, and will annually gaze 
 with pride upon the old flag, borne upon the field of battle 
 by those whose memory they shall commemorate after we 
 are gone. 
 
 We turn with fond memory to the boys of sixty-two. 
 We mean the boys, who with smooth faces and laughing 
 eyes inscribed their names upon the rolls that shall, until 
 the republic crumbles into dust, secure an honorable place in 
 our country's history. 
 
 lyook into their faces now and see if you can detect any 
 resemblance of their former selves? In the gray-haired, 
 care lined, stern and bearded faces, each march drew a new 
 thread of silver through their hair, each sentry tread be- 
 neath inclement skies sent new pains shooting through their 
 frames, each battle drew lines upon their features, each com- 
 rade that fell to rise no more, left a sad imprint upon their 
 hearts and memories. The raging battle was never so in- 
 tense, that a dying comrade could not be given a drink of 
 water, and no march ever so long, nor fatigue so great, that 
 a biscuit could not be divided with a messmate. Such was 
 the sympathy which held the army in common cord. This 
 is easily understood, for behind a war of musketry was a 
 war of mind. Each bullet and each bayonet was guided by 
 a thought and an inspiration whose constancy placed upon 
 each fort and line, or file of soldiers, an emblem of frater- 
 nity and liberty, which put to shame the ancient banners of 
 spoil and conquest. 
 
 The war was not in all a military conflict; it was a com- 
 plete revolution in which the many customs, and the whole 
 
 —10- 
 
life of one people were changed— and as a result of which 
 new energy thrilled another people. 
 
 The war was not all battles, nor all marches, but a 
 struggle of combined intellectual and physical forces. In- 
 telHgence and reason pervaded rank and file, while the vol- 
 unteer soldier never surrendered his individuality— thus se- 
 curing to our national structure an imperishable foundation. 
 It will be impossible to give every comrade's experience 
 in the service in this history, yet we hope to give every 
 comrade credit for being a true friend of his "Comrade and 
 the flag." 
 
 It was on the 13th day of August, 1862. while teaching 
 in New Aexandria, Jefferson County, Ohio, that we heard 
 the shrill notes of the fife, and the drum beat signals, that 
 Our Country's flag was in danger. 
 
 It was noon -tide and calling the children to the front of 
 the building, we mounted the steps, told them the great war 
 had opened in earnest, and said "we must be off." A hasty 
 goodbye was said. 
 
 On the morning of the 19th we left Steubenville, O., 
 with Parker A. Elson's Company of one hundred and six 
 men for Camp Dennison, to be equipped and drilled for the 
 
 fight. 
 
 Who can recall the sensations of that journey trom 
 home to camp? Many a boy looked out of the car window 
 for the last time, upon his native hills. 
 
 They were a jolly set of boys, who boarded that train 
 on their way south. 
 
 "This is a good government," said one who had been 
 out in the first call. "We have palace cars now, but coming 
 back they will let us ride in cattle cars " And his predic- 
 tion came true, for we left Washington city three years 
 afterward in cattle cars, and were four days reaching Colum- 
 bus. 
 
 —11— 
 
Another fellow who was chuck full of patriotism said 
 "Boys this is all right, we'll have a picnic, a chance for 
 three things — study, travel and promotion. And we did 
 have a chance for all these, and especially for the last, as 
 there were about forty of the company promoted from this 
 world to the next before the war closed. 
 
 We arrived at Camp Dennison at sun down, and found 
 for the first time, we had nothing to do but obey our su- 
 periors and get ready to whip the rebels. 
 
 Our stay in Camp Dennison was short. On the morn- 
 ing of August 22nd, 1S62, we were mustered into the U. S. 
 service as the 52nd O. V. I. by A. F. Bond, Captain of 2nd 
 U. S. Infantry with the following list of officers: 
 
 Colonel — Daniel McCook. 
 
 Lieutenant Colonel — D. D. T. Cowen 
 
 Adjutant — Chas. H. Blackburn. 
 
 Surgeon — Joel Morse. 
 
 ist Assistant Surgeon— H. M. Duff. 
 
 2nd " " — A. J. Rosa. 
 
 Quartermaster — Israel Fisler. 
 
 Chaplain— A. L. Petty. 
 
 Sergeant Major — George L, Zink. 
 
 Commissary Sergeant — Isaac Stokes. 
 
 Bugler — John Baldwin. 
 
 Drum Major — ^James M. Knisely. 
 
 The regiment moved from their barracks at Camp Den- 
 nison on the morning of August 25th, boarding a train 
 bound for the front, to share in the fortunes and privations 
 of the army of the West. To pass in four days, from homes 
 of peace and friends we loved, to regions where bayonets 
 sprout as dense as the springing corn, is like being born into 
 a new world. 
 
 At Cincinnati we were marched through the principal 
 streets and halted in front of the public buildings, where the 
 
 —12— 
 
loyal women presented us with a beautiful silk flag. Gen. 
 Robert L. McCook, brother of our Colonel, had been taken 
 from an ambulance and murdered near Lmnville, Tennes- 
 see—almost a year previous Colonel Pan, who had 
 vowed to avenge his death, spoke of his regiment as "Mc- 
 Cook's Avengers" and the watchword was inscribed upon 
 our banner. 
 
 The flag was presented by a young man, whose name 
 we failed to record. He said, "I present this banner to you, 
 in behalf of the loyal women of this city, as a token of es- 
 teem for your gallant Colonel and the brave men who have 
 enlisted to defend it. They are incapable of participating in 
 the rough fortunes of war, but are here today to cheer you 
 with their presence and smiles, and breathe the prayer that 
 our God may protect you in your lives, and give you vic- 
 tory in the cause of the right. This flag which they pre- 
 sent to you, is given with the assurance that as long as a 
 drop of blood flows in your veins, it will wave untarnished 
 by infamy, and unstained by dishonor. It is the flag of 
 the free. It has been assailed by tyrants, who have en- 
 deavored to strike it from existence. The waves of civil 
 war dash madly around it, and you are to rally to its de- 
 fense that it may continue to wave over an undivided coun- 
 try. Take it, defend it with your lives, honor it with your 
 loyalty, and when it is returned, may not a single star be 
 wanting." 
 
 Col. McCook replied: "I am proud of having been 
 chosen as commander of the 52nd Regiment and permitted 
 this day to receive this beautiful flag— this our country's 
 flag— proud emblem of our nation— this, that has com- 
 manded the respect of all nations abroad and all true Amer- 
 icans at home. Soldiers of the 52nd, let us show ourselves 
 worthy defenders of that flag. To the fair donors, the 
 ladies of this city, whose patriotism is always evinced on oc- 
 
 —13— 
 
casions like this, may you live to see our cause triumphant, 
 and that flag floating on every hill top in this fair land of 
 ours." 
 
 In the afternoon the Regiment crossed the Ohio to Cov- 
 ington, Kentucky, where we stacked arms in a large hall. A 
 bounteous supper had been furnished by the citizens, and 
 was served by the young ladies of that city. We crossed 
 the Ohio river with 981 men, 14 field and staff officers, and 
 28 line officers, making a total of one thousand and nineteen 
 men. We recrossed the Ohio river at Wheeling, West Vir- 
 ginia, on the morning ot June 8tb, 1865, with 294 of the 
 same men and twenty recruits— 317 in all — and ate our first 
 meal together as a regiment the next morning after arriving 
 at Columbus. 
 
 Our journey from Covington to Lexington was made 
 by rail, in the night. The engineer was reported to be a 
 rebel and two guards were placed in the cab with him, and 
 instructed to shoot him if he atiempled to wreck the train. 
 
 We arrived at Lexington on the morning of the 26th 
 It was the largest inland town in the state with a population 
 of nine thousand. Situated in the heart of the blue grass 
 region, and was the home of Henry Cla5^ also the home of 
 John Morgan, the notorious rebel raider. 
 
 During our sojourn in Lexington, a citizen told me 
 that some two months before our arrival in their city, Gen. 
 Morgan dashed through the picket line from the north, rode 
 up the steps of the long porch in front of the old home, call- 
 ed his mother out, stooped down and kissed her, rode off" the 
 porch and dashed through the picket line on the south and 
 was off. 
 
 The print of war's fingers could plainly be seen. The 
 fields were ragged and fenceless —a gate standing by some 
 freak between two posts — the top rail of the fence gone up 
 in smoke. Such were the desolations of war. 
 
 —14— 
 
The afternoon of our arrival in the city, John AUman of 
 Co. E stepped upon a rusty nail, resulting in lock-jaw, from 
 which he died in a few da^^s, and is rightly reported as the 
 first death in the regiment, and from a wound in the line of 
 duty. 
 
 It was Sunday by the calendar, Sunday by the sweet 
 Sabbath bells of the north, but what shall we call it here? 
 All was bustle and confusion. Couriers were arriving every 
 hour from the front, and aids were hurrying to and fro with 
 anxious faces. General Nelson with seven thousand men 
 had intercepted Kirby Smith with twenty thousand on his 
 way to Cincinnati. The battle of Richmond, Kentucky had 
 been fought and Nelson was slowly retreating toward Lex- 
 ington, and we were marched all night toward ihe Kentucky 
 river, halting at daylight on the bank of the river to keep 
 the enemy from crossing, until late in the afternoon when 
 we "about faced" — foot sore and weary, marching rapidly 
 back to Lexington, through a heavy rain storm. 
 
 The regiment was quartered in one of the halls of the 
 city and in the Court Hou.se, where we dropped to sleep, too 
 tired to think of supper. Monday morning dawned out of 
 paradise. The sun rose and the mists were folded up, and 
 we arose to find all bustle and in preparation for the evacu- 
 tion of the city. All heavy baggage, with the tents and 
 .stores that could not be taken with us were burned. We 
 drew rations in the forenoon, marched out and stood in line 
 in plain view of the enemies forces, who were cautiously ap- 
 proaching our lines. 
 
 Before nightfall we were in full retreat for Louisville, 
 one hundred and twenty-three miles distant. 
 
 A number of comrades were left in the citj^ who were 
 sick and could not be removed when we left. Capt. J. Tay- 
 lor Holmes of Company G, was among the number. He 
 was very sick and was cared for at a private house by Sergt. 
 
 —15— 
 
Ross Rex of the same company. Morgan's men came in as 
 we retired, and the captain and his nurse were made pri- 
 soners and paroled. The ladies of Richmond, Ohio, where 
 his company had been recruited, presented the captain with 
 a fine sword which he wore. How to conceal the sword 
 and keep the rebs from finding it, was the puzzling question 
 with the captain's nurse. However, it was carefully con- 
 cealed in the chimney flue and escaped the search of the 
 captors. In a few weeks the captain and friend were ready 
 to journey northward and were compelled to walk to Cin- 
 cinnati. How to get the sword through the rebel picket 
 line was another puzzling question. The sword and scab- 
 bard was run down the inside pant-leg, and the brave sol- 
 dier boy walked stiff-legged through the picket line, af- 
 ter showing his parole. And it now adorns the walls of 
 the colonel's home in Columbus, O. 
 
 The 98th Ohio shared with us in covering the retreat. 
 No regiment in the service had a warmer place in our hearts 
 than the 98th. At Perryville, Chickamauga, Peach Tree 
 and Bentonville, they shared with us in the triumph of our 
 arms, and their dear old flag seems next to our own as a 
 priceless boon of our liberties. 
 
 That march tried the physical endurance of the raw 
 soldier. Gen. Nelson commanded the retreat with Gen. 
 Terry, an artillery officer, afterwards killed in the battle of 
 Perryville, as chief of staff. 
 
 Having no wagon train, we pre: sed into service for 
 transporting knapsacks, the omnibuses, wagons and car- 
 riages of the city to transport the extra baggage, sick men 
 and others who might break down on the march. Sunrise 
 the next morning found us filing off the road into a field 
 near the town of Versailes, which was twenty-two miles 
 from Lexington. Water was very scarce and many a boy 
 was picked up by Morgan's cavalry, when he had wandered 
 
 —16— 
 
from the road in search of a cool drink to wash the dust 
 from his throat. 
 
 Twenty-six men were made prisoners from the regi- 
 ment before we reached Louisville. A well by the road- 
 side was an attraction for the famished soldier. One of 
 the.se, from which the water had been drawn by the swing - 
 
 CAPT. ISAAC STOKES AND SON JOHN S. STOKES, CO. D. 
 
 ing pole and "old oaken bucket," was surrounded by a 
 crowd of thirsty blue coats. The pole pointed heavenward 
 in mockery of the soldiers' thirst, for the bucket and chain 
 were gone. Tommy White of the 98th Ohio lost his foot- 
 ing in the struggle and fell, feet foremost, into the well. He 
 found about eighteen inches of water at the bottom, got 
 down upon his knees and like Gideon's three hundred sol- 
 
 —17— 
 
diers of Bible story, lapped the water with his tongue, and 
 climbing the rugged wall, went on his way rejoicing. 
 
 A matronly woman was sitting on the veranda, direct- 
 ing an officer to a bubbling spring across a ravine through a 
 corn field, a few hundred yards from the road. The officer, 
 taking three comrades with him, cautiously entered the corn 
 field and discovered a squad of rebel cavalry, taking in our 
 boys as fast as the kind hearted woman could send them 
 over. We pushed on through Frankfort, the state capitol. 
 At the breaking out of the war it had a population of thirty - 
 seven hundred and was intensely disloyal. We had two 
 brass field pieces which were unlimbered every day on some 
 knoll by the wayside. We were waiting for the enemy to 
 put in their appearance, while not a man who supported 
 that battery knew that there w^s not a shot or shell in the 
 caisson behind us. 
 
 We trudged on day and night, getting only six hours 
 rest in the twenty-four. We felt as we started out on the 
 morning before about twenty years older than when we left 
 home only fourteen days previous. At three o'clock in the 
 morning, of the fifth day we were ordered to fall in, as we 
 were expecting an attack by the enemy's cavalry. We were 
 marched out of camp expecting to make Louisville by noon. 
 
 There was much straggling, and the ambulances and 
 vehicles were loaded to their utmost capacity. Two of our 
 company went to a farm house, determined to hire a team 
 with driver to take them to Louisville. They found three of 
 Company C, 98th Ohio there ahead of them, with the team 
 and farmer ready for the trip. The five paid their fare of 
 two dollars apiece and journeyed, without mishap, four 
 miles, when they suddenly came upon the camp of the 98th. 
 The three were compelled to dismount. A mile farther on, 
 the other two were ordered out of the wagon by Gen. Nel- 
 son, and they were compelled to march with the rear guard 
 the remaining nine miles. 
 
 —18— 
 
COL. C. W. CLANCY. 
 
 —19— 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 LOUISVILLE TO PERRYVILLE. 
 
 A A 7 E arrived in Louisville on the 6th of September. The 
 V V city was in great excitement Buell and Bragg were 
 running a foot race across the state, Buell was within thirty 
 miles of the city, and Bragg was heading for Cincinnati, 
 where the "squirrel hunters" and "minute men" were wait- 
 ing for him, but he finally gave it up. 
 
 Louisville, at that time, had a population of sixty eight 
 thousand, a majority of which were loyal to the old flag. 
 
 Major General Wm. Nelson was assigned the command 
 of our forces in and around the city, awaiting the arrival of 
 Gen. Buell. 
 
 Little Phil Sheridan comes into prominence about this 
 time and is assigned to look after the defenses of the city. 
 Gen. Jeff. C. Davis, who had been on sick leave in Indiana, 
 reported to Nelson for duty, and was assigned to the work 
 of arming the citizens of Louisville 
 
 Gen. Nelson was a native of Kentucky. He was a 
 rigid disciplinarian, and volunteer soldiers early in the war 
 heartily disliked the rigid discipline of the regular army, and 
 many of them who followed Gen. Nelson on the retreat 
 from Richmond, Kentucky, to Louisville, and witnessed the 
 harsh treatment of soldiers who sank exhausted by the way, 
 tied to the battery wagons or beaten by the sword, were 
 rather pleased to hear of Nelson's death. 
 
 There are many versions of that sad tragedy. We 
 were on duty at the Gait House as corporal of the guard, 
 and have since the war received the statement of Gen. Fry 
 
 -2U— 
 
who was an eye witness to the shooting. A day or two 
 after Davis had been assigned to the duty of organizing the 
 citizens, he called at Nelson's headquarters at the Gait 
 House. Nelson inquired, "How are you succeeding?" 
 Davis replied, "I don't know," and he gave similar answers 
 to two or three questions, as to the number of men organized. 
 Nelson was angered, and said, "I have made a mistake in 
 selecting you for this duty," and in an abusive manner 
 ordered him out of his presence Davis replied, asking for 
 treatment due him as a general officer. 
 
 Dr. Irwin Ouvin, an army surgeon was passing the door, 
 and Davis called him in to be a witness to the altercation. Nel- 
 son ordered Davis to report to Gen. Wright at Cincinnati. 
 Davis said, "you have no authority to order me." Nelson 
 turned to his Adjutant General and said, "Captain, if Gen. 
 Davis does not leave the city by nine o'clock tonight, give 
 instructions to the Provost Marshal to see that he is put 
 across the Ohio." Davis withdrew, and that nighi reported 
 to Wright. 
 
 Buell reached Louisville September 25th, fifteen days 
 after the first altercation, when Wright ordered Davis to re- 
 turn and to report to Buell. He arrived at the Gait House 
 on the morning of September 29lh. Your historian was on 
 duty as corporal of the guard, and had placed comrade 
 Joshua Johnson in front of the entrance. Nelson, after 
 breakfast, was standing in the office, when Davis approached 
 him in company with Oliver P. Morton, Governor of 
 Indiana. 
 
 Davis demanded an apology for the insult of the pre- 
 vious interview. Nelson ordered him out of his presence. 
 Davis pressed the demand and was cursed in return in the 
 vilest and bitterest language. Davis picked up a blank 
 visiting card and squeezed it into a ball, pitched it into his 
 face, when Nelson slapped Davis in the face and said to 
 
 -21— 
 
Gov. Morton, "Did you come here, sir, to see me in- 
 sulted?" "No," replied Morton. Davis asked for a pistol. 
 A friend borrowed one and handed it to him, and walk- 
 ing toward Nelson, he fired, the shot taking effect above 
 the heart. He fell, saying to the proprietor of the hotel, 
 "Send for a clergyman, I wish to be baptized. I have been 
 basely murdered." 
 
 I less than an hour Nelson was dead. Gen. Fry arrest- 
 ed Davis. No written charges being preferred against him 
 within one hundred days, he was released by Gen. Wright. 
 The grand jury at Louisville indicted him for manslaughter 
 about four weeks after the death of Nelson, but the indict- 
 ment was stricken from the docket in 1864. 
 
 Mrs. Nelson bought a lot in Green Mount Cemetery, 
 Indianapolis, Indiana, where she buried her husband, erect- 
 ing a monument to his memory. 
 
 Gen Davis retired from the army after the war and 
 died in 1873 in St. Louis, Mo. Mrs. Davis sent her brother 
 to Indianapolis, and bought a lot, adjoining the one in which 
 Gen. Nelson's body lies, in which he was buried, erecting 
 a monument to his memory, without knowing that Gen. 
 Nelson was buried there. 
 
 The army was re -organized. Gen. Buell in command, 
 with Gen Thomas, second There were three corps of three 
 divisions-each. The first was commanded by Gen. McDowell 
 McCook, the second by Gen. Crittenden and the third by 
 Gen. Gilbert We were in the thirty-sixth brigade, com- 
 manded by our Col. Dan McCook, third division command- 
 ed by Gen P. H Sheridan and the 3rd corps commanded by 
 Gen. Gilbert. Subsequently the corps numbers were 
 changed to avoid duplication, as there were already corps of 
 those designations in the army of the Potomac. 
 
 The thirty-sixth brigade was composed of the 85th, 
 86th and 125th Illinois and 52nd Ohio regiments. The 22nd 
 
 —22— 
 
Indiana, Gen Jeff C. Davis' old regiment, was added to our 
 brigade at Chattanooga We served as part of Sheridan's 
 Division until we were transferred to Mitchell's Garrison of 
 the city of Nashville, Dec. lo, 1862. 
 
 After a march through the city, being reviewed by the 
 officers, on a sultry afternoon in which a number of the 
 regiment were prostrated by the heat, we marched out the 
 Harrodsville pike six miles, and went into camp. 
 
 Sunday came, and of course there must be inspection. 
 As Gen. Gilbert passed down the line, he spied our banner 
 presented to the regiment at Cincinnati, carried by Com- 
 rade E. D. Patterson, Company C, with "McCook's Aven- 
 gers," inscribed on its folds, and ordered the color bearer to 
 put it away in the Colonel's headquarter wagon, giving as a 
 reason, that if captured with that banner the rebels would 
 give no quarter and every mother's son of us would be 
 butchered. Some time afterward the flag was brought out, 
 and carried through all our marches and battles. When the 
 end came, its texture had been whipped and worn out by the 
 winds and waves on the bloody fields of the south land. 
 
 When the last review at Washington was over, a piece 
 about as broad as your two hands, was all that was left of it. 
 The boys hunted up the new state flag — with the words 
 "E Pluribus unum" on it, which had followed us from Cin- 
 cinnati, stowed away in a baggage wagon, and nailed it on 
 the old staff, and it now stands in the flag room of the Capi- 
 tol. Its folds are more tender than tissue paper, and in an- 
 other forty years, it will be little more than dust and ashes. 
 
 The first night in camp at the six mile house, we were 
 directed to put everything in readiness for rapid movements, 
 as we were elected to drive Bragg, who was at or near Bards- 
 town, out of Kentuck}'. 
 
 Alfred Robinson, of Company B, was severely injured 
 just after going into camp Exhausted by the march, he 
 
 —23— 
 
^ay down beside a log, and covering himself with leaves, fell 
 into a sound sleep. When uncle Tom, the colored cook of 
 Company K, returning from the creek below with two buck- 
 ets of water, crossed over the log, planting both feet on Rob- 
 inson's breast He was sent to the hospital and was dis- 
 charged from the service on account of the injury. 
 
 .T. C. HARKTRON, CO. H. 
 
 Four hours, drill, the few days we stayed here, gave ns 
 an appetite for arni)^ rations. One thing we we're grateful 
 for, was good coffee and plenty of it. Some one in Congress 
 proposed the substitution of tea for coffee and declared tlie 
 soldiers would welcome the change, Not so, coffee was the 
 "true water of life," his solace and his main-stay When 
 a boy could not diink his coffee, he might as well be sent to 
 the rear. A soldier could make his coffee in five minutes, 
 
 —24— 
 
drink it in three, grind a hard tack and feel as refreshed as 
 though he had finished a fifty cent dinner. 
 
 We started on the hunt of Bragg 's army Oct. 2nd, only 
 six weeks since we left home, yet we marched away that 
 morning with a swinging step, like old veterans. But, be- 
 fore nightfall came, many a poor fellow lay by the roadside 
 nursing his blistered feet. 
 
 I think the army never felt such a sense of loneliness, 
 as when we passed through Kentucky in that campaign. 
 The name signifies "The dark and bloody ground " The 
 villages seemed to be asleep like a lazy dog in the hot sun- 
 shine. Stores closed, shops deserted and the roads dotted 
 with the inkiest heads imaginable, as if some Ethiopian had 
 suddenly taken possession of the land. 
 
 What a difference there was between fleeing from a fee 
 and pursuing one. Sleep unbroken, wearied and fooi-!-ore, 
 the soldier lay down with his head on Jacob's piHow. It 
 may have been a Bethel to him, where wife or child or "the 
 girl he left behind him" may be ascendiuizr or descending in 
 the guise of angels on the silver ladder of a dream. 
 
 On the third day's march, one of our boys was taken 
 sick and we were left to care for him until the ambulance 
 came up. After getting him in the ambulance we started 
 to overtake the regiment, a task which took the the remain- 
 der of the day and far into the night, encountering much the 
 same difficulties met by "Si Kleg" except in the outcome. 
 
 On the evening of theyth we went into camp about 
 eleven o'clock, having made a little over fifteen miles per 
 day. Everywhere Bragg had posted frantic proclamations 
 to the people of Kentucky to rise in their might and expel 
 the invaders from their sacred soil. Gilbert's corps was head- 
 ing for Perryville by the Springfield pike. McCook's by 
 the Mackville pike and Crittenden's by the Broomfield pike. 
 
 —26— 
 
Sheridan's Division was in the advance. Mitchell's and 
 Shoeff's on our left. 
 
 We crossed Doctor's Creek at three o'clock on the next 
 morning, the 52nd in the advance, Company A on the skirm- 
 ish line. The moon was shining clear, when our line moved 
 up to the summit, driving the enemy's pickets in to their 
 reserve, without the loss of a man. Barnett's 2nd Illinois 
 
 CAPT. V. B. .TAMES, CO. I. 
 
 Battery was brought up and planted on the brow of the hill. 
 The 52nd formed in the rear of the Battery, the 85th to our 
 right, the 125th to our right and rear, and the 8Ath in the re- 
 serve. At 10 a. m. we were moved out in front, down 
 through the woods, supporting the 44th Illinois and 2nd 
 Missouri of Carlin's Brigade. While in this position we 
 
 — 2B— 
 
were within a short distance of the burnt barn and cornfield 
 where Jackson and Terry fell in the afternoon. The enemy 
 charged our line twice between lo and 12 o'clock, but were 
 repulsed with heavy loss by the regiments in front of us, 
 the 2nd Missouri losing heavily in the first charge. 
 
 We were moved back to the ridge at noon, taking posi- 
 tion between Hancock's and Barnett's Batteries, where we 
 lay all the afternoon. At four o'clock the enemy massed in 
 our front. The charge was led by Gen. Kline, who was rid- 
 ing a white horse. A shell from our Battery struck the horse, 
 killing the rider. The line was broken and they retreated 
 in confusion. 
 
 The brunt of the battle fell upon McCook's corps. Our 
 position gave us a fine view of the battle in the afternoon, 
 especially on our left, where the field was more hotly con- 
 tested. Charge after charge was made on Terry's division 
 and the odds were against us, but our men would rally and 
 the tide would turn in our favor. A brigade of reinforce- 
 ments brought a cheer all along our lines and fresh courage 
 to our brave men. A rebel shell exploded in a caisson, and 
 horses and men were lifted in the air. The gallant gSth had 
 their first baptism of blood, losing heavily in men and offi- 
 cers, among the number was Col. Webster, a noble man and 
 a hero, also their Division Commander, Gen. Jackson. 
 
 Our loss in the regiment was light. The first man 
 struck in the battle was George Wilson of Company K, — 
 shot through the hand, early in the morning. There were 
 two deaths from wounds, while our total loss was fourteen. 
 Gen. Buell has been severely and no doubt justly criticized 
 for the result of that battle. Col. Hinman of the Sherman 
 Brigade says in his history. "We saw two or three divisions 
 lying idly on their arms taking no part whatever in the con- 
 flict. In truth this is what we did a mile from the battle- 
 field. Our division filed off into the woods, formed in line, 
 
 —27— 
 
and lay down. This was our part of the battle of Perryville. 
 We lay all the afternoon, almost in view of the battle, won- 
 dering why we did not participate." 
 
 Gen. Gilbert wrote to Gen. Carlin in eighty-five, "that 
 he left the front at eleven o'clock and until nearly 4 p. m. 
 had no knowledge that there was any fighting going on in 
 
 SEKGT. H. B. TKEAT, CO. I. 
 
 front of vSheridan's division until the final attack by Gen. 
 Kline at 3:45 p. m. in front of the two batteries and our bri- 
 gade with two regiments of Carlin's that supported them." 
 
 -28- 
 
The facts are that the battle was fought by McCook's 
 corps and by two of his three divisions with a part of Sheri- 
 dan's division against three divisions of the enemy under 
 Gen. Polk and a division of Hardee's corps. Our loss was 
 over four thousand while twenty-three thousand of our men 
 were not engaged. Gen. Chas. C Gilbert is lost sight of 
 from this time. He continued with the army until June '63, 
 commanding a division, when Col. Opdycke of the 125th 
 Ohio, wrote to Senator Wade of Ohio, informing him, "that 
 Gilbert had attempted to have a young man commissioned as 
 an ofl&cer in his regiment. Believing that no civilian 
 should gain a place that ought to be reserved as a reward 
 for meritorious conduct of our own men in the ranks, he 
 objected and reminded the senator that Gilbert was a cap- 
 tain in the regular army and had been appointed and was 
 acting as brigadier general and his appointment had not 
 been confirmed by the senate." In a short time the senate 
 failed to confirm and Capt. Gilbert was ordered to duty else- 
 where. Thus his military career was wrecked. Carlin's 
 Brigade was within half a mile of Perry ville by sundown 
 and Bragg was in retreat before morning. 
 
 We passed over the battlefield ihe next morning. 
 Bodies of men and horses lay scattered about everywhere, 
 every house and barn was filled with the maimed, the 
 dying and dead. The battle is the red blossom of war, but 
 the roots dark and bitter run beneath the tents, creep 
 through the wards of the hospitals and feel their way, like 
 the fingers of the hand, in all this ground we tread upon — 
 save that only where lie our dead. 
 
 If any one thinks that when our men are stricken upon 
 the field of battle they fill the air with cries and groans, he 
 greatly errs. An arm is shattered, a leg carried away, a 
 bullet pierces the breast, and the soldier sinks down silently 
 upon the ground or creeps away, if he can, without a mur- 
 
 —29— 
 
iiiur or complaint, falls as the sparrow falls, speechless — 
 and I earnestly believe, not without the Father's notice. 
 
 The dying horse gives out his fearful utterance of al- 
 most human suffering, but the mangled rider is dumb. The 
 crash of musketry, the roar of artillery; the shriek of shells, 
 the rebel yell, the yankee cheer, make up the voices of the 
 battle field. In company with a comrade we started in 
 search of the 98th to find out how the regiment had fared, 
 as it had been in the hottest of the fight the day before. The 
 regiment was burying their dead, our comrade asked for his 
 brother, — "there he lies," said one of his comrades, "brave 
 boy he was, he fell with liis face to the foe." 
 
 Passing a building where the enemy had left their 
 wounded, we were attracted by the cry of a rebel drummer 
 boy. He was in the delirium of death. Some one had 
 leaned a broad plank ag;iinst the side of the building where 
 he lay, to keep the drip from the eaves of the house from 
 falling in his face, for it was raining as it always did after a 
 battle. I shall never forget that sweet, childish voice; he 
 said in his delirium; "mother, dear mother, why don't you 
 come and take me home?" That mother did not come. She 
 lived far away, perhaps in some beautiful home in the sunny 
 south. She never saw her boy again, for as we returned, 
 his form was still, his childish voice was hushed in death 
 and we thought may it not be that the angels did come and 
 take him to the home above. 
 
 —30— 
 
COIi. JOHN .T. m'COOK. 
 
 —31- 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 NASHVILLE AND BRENTWOOD. 
 
 PERRYVILIvE was a small town of three or four hun- 
 dred, situated on Chaplain river, ten miles west of Dan- 
 ville, forty-five miles south of Lexington, and eighty-five from 
 Louisville. Bragg was in full retreat for Cumberland gap. 
 He had stripped the country of every thing to eat, drink or 
 to wear. 
 
 We marched toward Crab Orchard, camping on the north 
 fork of Salt river Every stream seemed to be a river in the 
 south. This branch was small and almost dry. 
 
 Buell issued strict orders not to touch anything belong- 
 ing to friend or foe. This was not without reason, for Ken- 
 tucky was a loyal state She furnished sixty thousand soldiers 
 for the Union army. In spite of all this, a desire for more than 
 army rations was continually cropping out. While resting 
 on Salt river, a member of Company F returning from picket, 
 found a bee hive that had been carried out from a farm 
 house by rebel cavalry. They had left some honey in the 
 box. Our comrade who brought away the remainder, was ar- 
 rested. A drum heaJ court martial was called and he was 
 marched through the camp with a board strapped to his 
 knapsack on which was written the word "thief.'* He was 
 dismissed from the service in disgrace Oct. i6th, [862. Gen. 
 Cruft, Buell's chief of staff, called the court martial and exe- 
 cuted the sentence. In less than three months the comrade 
 re-enlisted in the 126th Ohio and was at the surrender of 
 Lee at Appomattox. 
 
 —82— 
 
Our movement toward Nashville began about the i8th 
 of October and brought us within three or four miles of the 
 famous Mammoth Cave. In company with other members 
 of the regiment, under the direction of Adjutant Chas. H. 
 Blackburn, we spent a day exploring its wonders, returning 
 in the evening, glad we had visited nature's wonderful cav- 
 ern. Our halt at Cave City was followed by several days 
 hard marching. It rained and turned to snow. Our cloth- 
 
 W. .T. FTTNSTOX. CO. E. 
 
 ing froze and became stiff as boards. The suffering of such 
 a march is beyond the power of words to portray. We 
 trudged along as best we could, making about 15 miles a 
 day. At Fruits Knob, Co. F lost its first man by death. It 
 was Cornelius Hess, who died of measles, and was buried 
 
 —33— 
 
with the honors of war. On the march, while resting by the 
 roadside, two men, one of Company B, another from Com- 
 pany D, accidentally or otherwise, shot off the index finger 
 of the right hand. Col. McCook declared with emphasis 
 that they should not be discharged while the war lasted, and 
 they should be made to carry wood and water for the regi- 
 ment. 
 
 We arrived at Edgefield, across the Cumberland from 
 Nashville, about the first of November, where we went 
 into camp for awhile. It was here we had our first experi- 
 ence at a soldiers' corn husking. One morning we started 
 up the Cumberland with about four hundred men and 
 thirty teams. A regiment of cavalry had taken the advance 
 to clear the way. Twelve miles from camp we found a field 
 of splendid corn, with kernels as clean and white and firm as 
 the teeth Richard was born with. Twenty- five men went 
 along the rows, mounted on mules, and with sharp sabers, 
 severed the ears from the stalks, husk and all. We follow- 
 ed after with wagons, gathering up the corn, going through 
 the field like a tornado. In a little over an hour, we filled 
 the wagons and back we went to the camp. No children's 
 happy shouts follow the reapers. No mother's smile wel- 
 comes them home. This is one of the stern realities of war, 
 from which we were released when peace came. 
 
 It was here that we had our first introduction to that 
 essential of army appendages, the sutler. Many people did 
 not care whether the war closed or not. They were des- 
 tined to get rich. Money sharks followed the army, while 
 trade bustled along on the heels of war. Did you ever see 
 a sutler's tent? The bait hung out — sometimes one thing — 
 sometimes another. Plenty of knick-knacks and nothings 
 that sold at starvation prices. Water suspected of having a 
 lemon dipped in it — a dime for two swallows. Pencils 
 whose lead — unlike that of the rebel bullet, does not go 
 
 Si— 
 
quite through, are good for a quarter, as the apothecary says, 
 "and so on." Prices that took away your breath as well as 
 your cash. 
 
 Checks were issued to the boys when they were found 
 strapped, and the sutler always came up with a broad grin, 
 when the man with the iron box came round. Our sutler 
 was a profane fellow, who was lacking in the genial element 
 
 LIEUT. W. P. MIIiVANE, CO. D. 
 
 of social life. One night at Brentwood the boys cut the 
 stays of his tent, confiscated his goods and whooped him 
 out of camp, and Mr. Baldwin dropped out of sight with 
 the 52nd. 
 
 November 4th we passed through Nashville to Mill 
 Creek, six miles south-east of the city on the Nolensville 
 pike, where we pitched our tents in the soldier's paradise, 
 
 —36— 
 
known as Camp Sheridan. We were here five weeks, dur- 
 ing which time the measles infected the camp and many 
 died in the hospital with them, also many had fatal pneu- 
 monia. 
 
 We drilled six hours a day, when not on other duty. 
 Quite a number of old regiments were in the division, 
 among the number the 8th Wisconsin, composed mostly of 
 "lumbermen," and they were the cleanliest set of men in 
 the service. In the 14th Michigan were two companies of 
 half-breed Indians, who were famous for their drill as 
 skirmishers. 
 
 A foot race was arranged between the 8th Wisconsin^ 
 14th Michigan, 85tli Illinois and 52nd Ohio, the prize being 
 a silk guidon or marker. It was placed on a hill, half a mile 
 away. The soldier who touched the flag first, was to bear it 
 away as the prize of his regiment. The race was very ex- 
 citing. Down into the valley and up the slopes we went, 
 yelling at every step. Little Phil leading the charge with 
 his hat on the point of his sword, riding the same horse that 
 was shot from under him at vStone River six. weeks later. The 
 flag was reached by Bill}' Armstrong of Company H, of our 
 regiment, and he was placed upon the shoulders of his com- 
 rades and borne into camp in triumph. 
 
 Camp life was not conducive to contentment in our 
 army experience. We were busy drilling and policing our 
 camp, but thoughts of home and friends grew more intense. 
 Letters came. They spoke of Thanksgiving. There was 
 to be song and sermon in the old church. The table spread 
 and all the children home but the loyal soldier boys. And 
 the loyal land would send up a song and psalm for the bless- 
 ings it had numbered. Some grew homesick and died of 
 the terrible longing for home. The symptoms were, languor, 
 debility, low fever, loss of appetite — death. But he who 
 died thus, gave his life as truly as if a bullet had found his 
 
 —36— 
 
heart. Loved ones at home had something to atiswer fon 
 Many a boy died, jnst because his dearest fnends d d not 
 send him a prescription twice a week-pr,ce three cents. 
 
 But it was not all dull and dreary in camp. The only 
 thing was, that it was so:unhke home. Not a &'°'l<^'-;<'""d 
 in it all. No sweet Sabbath bells, no lowtng herd no 
 chanticleer's shrill crow, no rattling pavements, no shuttmg 
 
 G. L. PATTERSON, CO. T). 
 
 doors-what was there to cheer the heart and revive the 
 spirits' Hark! At break of day fronr field and wood and 
 Zl come the sweet notes of the reveille. Bugle answers 
 to bugle, fifes warble, and through the roaring of the drum 
 you itch the soul stirring swell ot a full band playmg m an 
 unseen camp. There is music everywhere. When the mar^ 
 tial strains have ceased, the contrast begms m the hideous 
 
 —37— 
 
braying of the immense camp of mules. How the konk- 
 konk-konkle of the sub-basso rises and swells and echoes in 
 solemn discord. The mule in the army was an institution 
 dead or alive. How he was abused. No wonder he brayed 
 in his rusty way. He is the only creature that can slip all 
 his misery to the end of his tongue. Mark Twain says, 
 "It's tail is a miserable wisp, its mane is a worn out shoe- 
 brush, its ears the chief end of it, and yet ugly as it is, no 
 steed ever had so beautiful a foot." 
 
 There is something soul-inspiring at early dawn 
 when everything is astir in camp. Flags begin to float in 
 the breeze. Blue threads of smoke curl up along the camps — 
 soon you hear the click of the butt end of a bayonet, beating 
 coffee in a tin cup, giving you the merry music of the sol- 
 dier's coffee mill. And then, you are bugled to breakfast, 
 bugled to guard mounting, bugled to dinner, bugled to bat- 
 tle and bugled to bed. A soldier could sleep anywhere, ex- 
 cept on duty. We have slept on a couple of rails, laid side 
 by side, muttering thanks to the man who invented sleep, as 
 Sancho Panzo did. 
 
 December loth we moved into the city of Nashville, be- 
 ing transferred from Sheridan's Division to Gen. Mitchell's, 
 then on garrison duty in the city. Our camp was on the 
 Franklin pike. The memories of our stay there would fill 
 this little book. There was grand old Fort Negley, with its 
 parapets and black-mouthed siege guns. The sentries upon 
 the walls could be seen at all hours of the day, and the 
 watchman as upon Mt. Seir in answer to the challenge, "What 
 of the night?" shouted — ^"twelve o'clock, and all is well!" 
 
 And just to think in that cave on the hillside, fifty feet 
 or more from the entrance, was found a sparkling spring of 
 pure water, strong enough for an army. No cesspool of 
 filth from the city to pollute it, as it came from the south 
 of our camp. 
 
 —38— 
 
And the Sibley tent with its immortal tripod in the cen" 
 ter, on which hung the fire-pot that made us look like 
 "smoked yankees." Hovv we have been haunted by these 
 pictures of memory, as we have gone back in our dreams 
 since the war, and drank of that spring, languished in the 
 guard house for some slight neglect, or milked the cows on 
 the common, or watched out the night by the cot on which 
 
 N. H. BOSTWIt'K, CO. I. 
 
 rested the fevered form of a comrade we loved. Nashville 
 had about 18,000 population then. It has 90.000 now. 
 Then it was a tented tov\n. Her streets pulsated all day 
 long like a heart with one incessant, turbulent stream of 
 living beings. There were Africans, ambulances, ammuni- 
 tion, brigades, batteries, beasts, bread, bacon, men, mules and 
 so on to the end of the ali)habet, all crowded together in one 
 promiscuous throng. Our duty consisted in picketing, un- 
 
 —39— 
 
loading boats, guarding trains to the front, and patrolling 
 the city. Had we been given our choice we would have 
 taken our chances at the front. There was very little time 
 for drill. A detail from the regiment, of sixty men, three 
 times a week went by rail as train guard to the front. 
 
 Accidents occurred almost every week Three of the 
 regiment were killed and fifteen wounded by trains being 
 derailed or wrecked by torpedoes placed under the ties. 
 Trains were fired upon by the bushwhackers concealed by 
 the roadside. Unlike soldiering at the front, we were here, 
 there and everywhere — today on picket, tomorrow on de- 
 tail, all without regularity; and it told upon the endurance 
 of the men 
 
 But the days flow by in an unbroken stream A 
 month passes and you fancy it is not half gone. When you 
 stopped to think, you find you have lost vour reckonings. 
 Occasionally you meet a boy who is hunting up the day of 
 the week. The Sabbath, that sweet blossom in the waste 
 of time, is trampled by hurrying feet, unnoticed. It came 
 and went yesterday, and you find it out tomorrow. You 
 seem to be absorbed like the man of the world. Yet 
 when the Sabbaths began to drop out of your calendar in 
 the army, you felt somewhat uncomfortable for a sinner — 
 and a feeling of seriousness came over you. When off duty 
 we often went to church in the city, either to No. lo hospi- 
 tal or St. Peter's Episcopal church, where we heard the great 
 organ from the gallery. 
 
 Amid the whirl and eddy of intense life and saddest 
 death, we mingled with the garrison of Nashville, until the 
 second day's fight at Stone River, when we were ordered to 
 the front in charge of a wagon train loaded with supplies 
 and ammunition for "Rosy's" army. Four companies of 
 the regiment were on picket and we started at 1 1 a. m. for 
 Murfreesboro, thirty miles distant, with six companies. 
 
 —40— 
 
Eight miles from Nashville, when near the State Asylum, 
 Wheeler's cavalry made a dash upon our train and had suc- 
 ceeded in destroying a few of the wagons in front, when a 
 regiment of cavalry, sent back as an escort to our train, 
 came up, and we drove the enemy into a cornfield, and they 
 retreated southward. 
 
 CHAPLAIN A. I.. PETTY. 
 
 Among the dead left by the enemy was a rebel officer, 
 whose face was familiar. We searched and found a pass 
 signed by General Thomas on which we had passed him 
 many a time through the picket line on the Nolensville pike, 
 near Nashville, as a gardener. Marching all night, we 
 reached "Rosy's" army at three in the morning. We staid 
 with the train until an ordnance officer relieved us. when 
 we were ordered into line in the rear of Wagner's brigade 
 on the left of Crittenden's line. Neither army was disposed 
 
 —41— 
 
to resume the offensive, and there was no hard fighting dur- 
 ing the day. That night Bragg retreated and the battle of 
 Stone River became a part of the history of the wicked re- 
 bellion. 
 
 The next day we returned to Nashville with an empty 
 wagon train and resumed our former duties. Nashville was 
 crowded with the sick and wounded of our army. After the 
 battle, hospitals were established on every street, and in the 
 endless procession of army trains coming into the city you 
 might see a two-horse, canvas-covered wagon with very 
 much the look of the vehicle that churns the pure country 
 milk over the city pavements. Lashed to the side was 
 the stretcher, two parallel shafts connected by a piece of 
 sacking. These ambulances were a sort of flying hospital, 
 carrying its burden of anguish, moving to and fro, free to go 
 anywhere on the field of carnage. 
 
 Undertakers did a thriving business in Nashville. Cof- 
 fins stood up on end, empty and hungry. They seem to 
 petition you to get in and be composed. Here and there 
 may be seen oblong, unpainted boxes, awaiting shipment, 
 with the word head written on one end, and you think as I 
 do that somebody is waiting for the lifeless form of one 
 they loved in that home yonder. 
 
 These sad scenes make you forget the strange rivalry — as 
 you meet mothers and wives with tear stained-faces, wait- 
 ing to take home the dear dead boy or husband and bury 
 him where they may visit his mound and strew it with flow- 
 ers in all the years to come. Fathers, too, tremulous and 
 sad, bear their boys back to the home they left, so brave and 
 strong. 
 
 The regiment had become depleted by death and dis- 
 charge, so that by April yth we only reported a little over 
 five hundred for duty. We lost from Sept ist, ] 862, to April, 
 1863, just one hundred by death in the hospitals, from dis- 
 
 —42— 
 
ease alone. Seventy of them died in the Nashville hospitals 
 between Dec. ist, 1862, and April 20th, 1863. Many of 
 those who died might have lived, could they have gone 
 home, either on furlough or by discharge. Adjutant Charles 
 H. Blackburn resigned about the first of December, '62, and 
 I St Ivieut. Geo. A. Masury, of Company I, was appointed 
 Adjutant, his commission dating from December 25th of the 
 
 T. H. MONTGOiVlKKV, CO. Ci. 
 
 same year, Matthias Denman, who had filled the place of 
 Adjutant's Clerk, died March i6th. Although he had 
 been ailing for several weeks, he was absent from duty only 
 a few days before his death, W. J. Funston of Company 
 E, was detailed as Clerk and entered upon his duty a day or 
 two before Comrade Denman's death. 
 
 Clerk Funston was surprised to find three discharge 
 papers, which had been returned, approved, discharging the 
 
 —43— 
 
the men from the service that they might reach home and 
 mother, but alas, they looked and waited until hope ended 
 in death. 
 
 These men died, discharged from the service by order 
 of the General commanding, and those discharge papers had 
 lain in the pigeon holes of the Adjutant's desk, from six to 
 eight weeks, before their deaths occurred. It was all through 
 the carelessness of the Adjutant. The like never occurred 
 again. 
 
 April 7th we received our first pay as soldiers — five 
 months, and the payment gave us seventy-two dollars and 
 sixty-five cents, as our share — all in new crisp greenbacks 
 and we were as proud of them as we were of the old flag 
 we were fighting for. That night in our dreams we saw a 
 large map of our country, stretched across the heavens froin 
 north to south. It was made of greenbacks, emblazoned on 
 the map with letters of fire were the words still itnited. 
 The dream was never forgotten We had lost heavily in 
 officers. Up to the middle of April eighteen had resigned 
 and left the array, of the original field and company of- 
 ficers. Not one officer died of disease while in the ser- 
 vice, ten were killed or died of wounds, and seventeen were 
 wounded and survived the war, and one, Dr. Rosa, died 
 from an overdose of morphine. He was found dead in his 
 tent at McAfee Church, Georgia. 
 
 We moved out from Nashville twelve miles to Brent- 
 wood, and were glad to get away from the city. Our camp 
 was on the little Harpeth river. The scenery would com- 
 pare with the valleys through which the tributaries of the 
 Hudson or Rhine flowed, and was beautiful "beyond des- 
 cription," as the novelist says. The 22nd Wisconsin and 
 19th Michigan had been captured here by Gen. Forrest a 
 short time before. 
 
 Here we built a fort and spent two months of camp life, 
 the most pleasant of all our army experience. The citizens, 
 
 -44— 
 
unlike the country, were ugly, and rabid scessionists, dis- 
 playing their hatred by occasionally firing on our pickets at 
 night 
 
 The 52nd Regimental Band was organized shortly after 
 we came to Brentwood. Lieut. James M. Summers of Com- 
 pany H, was active in its organization, and was its instruc- 
 tor. The following comrades were detached in its organ- 
 ization: David Brisbin, Co. A, leader; Jas, A Scott, Co. A, 
 2nd E flat cornet; John Baldwin. Co. I, ist B flat; Hamilton 
 Wallace, Co. G, 2nd B flat; Wm. Anshute Co. A, solo alto; 
 Jerry Souders, Co. D, ist alto; Burr Treat, Co. I, 2nd alto; 
 Taylor Clark, Co. H, ist tenor; George F. Irwin, Co. B, 
 2nd tenor; Jehu Peck, Co, D, baritone; Samuel Harper, Co. H. 
 ist bass; Hiram Rice, Co. K, tuba; J. M. Knisely Co. D, snare 
 drum; Horace Church, Co. K, bass drum; T. McMasters, 
 Co. B, tuba; Pinkney Bone, Co. B, cymbals; John Baldwin, 
 bugler; J. M. Knisely, drum major. The band retained its 
 organization with great credit to the regiment, until the 
 close of the war. 
 
CAPT. P. A. ELSON, CO. E 
 
 -46— 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NASHVILLE TO CHATTANOOGA. 
 
 While here Capt. J. T. Holmes received his commission 
 as Major, to the satisfaction of the entire regiment. 
 News came one evening announcing the fall of Richmond, 
 and the camp was filled with excitement. All the candles, 
 in the commissary were confiscated and cut in two. Expert 
 climbers went into the tree tops, illuminating the branches 
 with their flickering light. Huge bonfires were lighted and 
 we shouted ourselves hoarse with joy, when Col Dan Mc- 
 Cook arrived, reporting the news as "grape vine," while in 
 reality the Union Army had been repulsed, was re -crossing 
 the Rappahannock and retreating towards Washington. 
 
 Life at the front and life in the moon are very much 
 alike. They were worlds without women, like your moth- 
 er and mine. We cooked our beans and washed our clothes 
 and swept the front of the tent, and wrote home saying "we 
 are content and yet anxious '. One night two 
 comrades of the 125th Illinois, who were like David and 
 Jonathan, inseparable, were on outpost duty on the Frank- 
 lin pike. One of them who was in the habit of walking in 
 his sleep, arose in the night and wandered across the line 
 unseen by his comrade. Unheeding the challenge as he 
 returned, he was shot and killed. 
 
 The weather was delightful during our stay at Brent- 
 wood, and the health of the regiment excellent. 
 
 The second week of June we returned to Nashville and 
 resumed our old duty of guarding trains or picketing. Short- 
 ly after out return to the city, a detail of five men from 
 
 —47— 
 
each regiment in the Brigade was made, and ordered to re- 
 port at Division Headquarters in one hour. 
 
 It fell to our lot to report with four comrades at the ad- 
 jutant's tent, for instructions, with orders to polish our 
 shoes and brass mountings. We reported at division head- 
 quarters, where we were informed of our sad duty, the ex- 
 ecution of a deserter, which was typical of the severe and 
 inexorable character of the laws of war. The execution 
 was to take place a mile south west of our camp, and near 
 the old Mason house, once occupied by Ex-President Polk. 
 
 In the squad detailed to execute the death penalty upon 
 a comrade, there is always one musket loaded with a blank 
 cartridge, so that each member of the detail may hope 
 that he has fired the harmless shot. The condemned was 
 a boy about 19 years of age, who had deserted from the 60th 
 Ohio at Stone River. We waited for the ambulance bearing 
 the unfortunate lad and his cofl&n. He was taken from the 
 prison in the city and had just entered the ambulance when 
 a dispatch was handed the officer in charge, bearing the 
 signature of President lyincoln. It was a pardon, bringing joy 
 to the condemned as well as relief to the executioners. The 
 grave was filled and we returned to camp, feeling that surely 
 there is but a step between us and death. 
 
 Rosecrans moved the 24th and we were ordered to the 
 front, camping at Murfreesboro. Here we saw for the first 
 time the "pup" tent. Over them were all kinds of odd 
 signs, such as "No loafing," "A Baker," "Attorney at law, 
 office upstairs." It was made in two sections or halves, 
 fastened together with buttons. Each half was six feet by 
 three, and had an improvised ridge pole, and two stakes with 
 the cloth stretched and pinned down at the corners. The 
 gable end was shut with a poncho, and the house was com- 
 plete. When finished it resembled a chicken coop, and was 
 christened a "Shelter Tent." 
 
 —48— 
 
A short time before our trip to Murfreesboro, C. ly. Val- 
 landigham had gone through the Hues, escorted by a body 
 of cavahy, for disloyalty. The men on the outpost picket 
 line told me, that no one knew who the stranger was, 
 that was so carefully guarded. That was well enough, as 
 it would not have been safe for him. 
 
 We passed the "Glorious Fourth" on picket near Mur- 
 freesboro. On returning the next morning to camp, we 
 were entertained during the afternoon by a comic ballad 
 singer He sang patriotic and other songs to the great de- 
 light of the bo3^s, until some one started a report, that he was 
 a rebel spy, and shouted "hang him" when he left camp in 
 haste. In the evening, news came of the surrender of 
 Vicksburg to Grant, with thirty thousand prisoners and one 
 hundred guns, also that Meade had triumphed over Lee at 
 Gettysburg. You may imagine we felt good from the crown 
 of the head as far down as we went, manifesting our joy by 
 "painting the town red." Our forces had captured Shelby- 
 ville and Tullahoma with many prisoners. We returned to 
 Nashville, July 19, camping near the cemetery on College 
 Hill, where we had an excellent view of the city. 
 
 There was great excitement in Ohio at this time, John 
 Morgan had crossed the river ana was sweeping through 
 Southern Ohio, pursued by Gen. Shackleford's forces. How 
 intensely we scanned the morning paper, and saw he was 
 heading for the "old home" I had left about a year before. 
 We quote from our diary July 24, "Morgan at Senecaville," 
 July 25, "Morgan at Winchester; July 27, "In Jefferson 
 County;" July 29, "Captured near Highland town." 
 
 Our camp had been occupied well nigh two years by the 
 garrison troops, which had preceded us, so that its sanitary 
 condition during the month of August, was very bad. We 
 thought we were to be eaten up with vermin, such as rats, 
 mosquitoes and flies, the old fashioned brown house fly — and 
 
 —49— 
 
you know what Burns spied on a lady's bonnet, and in 
 his, "O wad some pow'r the giftie gie us To see our- 
 sels as ithers see us," endowe d it with immortality. All 
 these follow the army. They are everywhere. The last 
 named creature, against which, care and cleanliness are no 
 adequate defense, is a superior production. Colonel Hinman 
 in his history of the "Sherman Brigade" calls it by its scien- 
 tific name ''Pediculus Vestimenti^ indicating its habit of 
 browsing around upon the body and commends the u-^e of 
 this high sounding title, because it may be used in any com 
 pany of polite people with comparative safety. Let us de- 
 scribe the creature. Equip a half macerated grain of wheat 
 with a small detail of legs, say six or eight, a mouth and 
 appetite and then draw a modest gray stripe along its back 
 and you have the "famous gray-back," the crowning ento- 
 mological triumph of the army It had no more respect for 
 the deeply, darkly, beautifully blue ot the officers than it 
 has for the ragged blouse of the private And the only use 
 made of its belongings was to throw its name at the next 
 meanest creature encountered in the south, the "Johnny 
 Reb." 
 
 But these were nature's .scavengers and deserved protec 
 tion. Look at the camp offices they performed, furnishing 
 arguments for personal cleanliness, driving the soldier to 
 soap and water, who could hardly be persuaded by a 
 bayonet. 
 
 Every day some part of the regiment was sent as train 
 guard to Stevenson, Alabama, one hundred and .seventeen 
 miles from Nashville Usually from sixty to a hundred 
 men were detailed and occupied a car, built so as to afford 
 protection from the bushwhacker;- along the route. August 
 5th, a detail of seventy men, under command of Lieut. 
 David Neighbor, started with a train, for the Tennessee river 
 at Stevenson. It was early in the morning as we neared 
 
 —60- 
 
 I 
 
Lavergne, running slowly on account of a dense fog, a train 
 following us ran into the guard car. killing Obadiah and Levi 
 Conwell, two brothers, and Elisha Wright, and severely in- 
 juring Lieut. David Neighbor by crushing his leg. All 
 four of the comrades were from Company D 
 
 Col. D. D. Irons of the 86th 111. died August i ith. He 
 was greatly beloved by his men and chose to die in his tent, 
 
 CAPT. W. H. LANE. CO. K. 
 
 with the men he loved. We escorted the body to the Louis- 
 ville and Nashville depot, from which it was sent to his home 
 at Bloomington, 111. 
 
 August 17 was an unlucky day for our guard. There 
 were thirty-eight of us started before day for the front. The 
 train was ditched by a torpedo, at Lavergne. The guards 
 were attacked by bushwhackers, but were scattered by a 
 
 —51— 
 
volley from the car. In three hours we pulled out and 
 everything seemed all right, until the engineer was shot at 
 and so scared, that he pulled the lever wide open. Away we 
 went, forty miles an hour, down grade, when the train left 
 the track, again wrecking eleven of the nineteen cars, and 
 injuring six of the guard. A train that followed us righted 
 things and we doubled up the two trains, starting at two 
 o'clock for Stevenson. On entering the long tunnel in the 
 spur of the mountain, the rear engine gave out and the 
 front one struggled to get us through. Black clouds of 
 smoke rolled up and back to where we were lying on the 
 top of a box car, the second from the tender. It grew denser 
 and hotter, when like the Irishman, who was having a tooth 
 extracted, "just before I died it pulled out." 
 
 On the morning of the 20th we marched south on the 
 Franklin pike. On reaching the summit we looked back 
 upon the city behind us, and bade farewell to all that was 
 dear to us in Nashville, — "The Rock City" — having put our 
 hand to the plough, and our faces turned toward the South. 
 We never retraced our steps, nor have we ever set our feet 
 within her gates, our fortune taking us, as we followed 
 Thomas and Sherman with steady tread on bloody field and 
 weary march to Chattanooga, and Atlanta, down to the sea 
 and up through the Carolinas to Washington, home. 
 
 At Brentwood we halted for the night. That night 
 Dick McCann, the noted bushwhacker, and eighteen of his 
 men were decoyed into the picket line by the 14th Michigan, 
 and captured, and poor Dick never carried a carbine again 
 during the war. The second day brought us to Franklin, 
 eighteen miles from Nashville. It is the county seat of 
 Williamson county. At that time it had a population of 
 one thousand. The town suffered much during the war, 
 having been occupied many times by both armies, and was 
 the scene of one of the hardest fought battles of the war, on 
 
 -52— 
 
Nov. 30th, 1864, between the Union forces under Schofield, 
 and the Rebel forces under Hood. 
 
 Gen. Schofield might have truly said, "My kingdom 
 for a bridge", for that battle was fought to save Schofield's 
 wagon trains, as the bridges over the Harpeth river had 
 both been destroyed. Nearly all the able bodied men of 
 Franklin were in the Confederate army and those at home 
 were exceedingly bitter. 
 
 We tarried here two days. A large mass meeting was 
 held during our stay, such as were held throughout the 
 north during the campaign of 1863. The speakers 
 were Andrew Johnson, the governor of Tennessee; Judge 
 Brien; Col McCook and Maj. J. T. Holmes. We were in- 
 terested in Brownlow. He had preached and edited the 
 "Knoxville Whig." The loyal people of East Tennessee be 
 lieved in him next to the Bible. His recital of arrest and 
 treatment at the hands of the Rebels was thrilling in the 
 extreme. 
 
 Col. Dan told us that our sweethearts were looking for 
 us home before Christmas, while Maj. Holmes eloquently 
 spoke of the conflict for freedom and the right; how our 
 arms had triumphed because our liberties are founded on 
 Christian patriotism. 
 
 We passed through Columbia, the county seat of Maury 
 county. It was at one time the capital of the state, also 
 the residence of President Polk, before his election Our 
 movements were slow, giving time for the repair of the 
 railroad, as we expected to push supplies to the front by this 
 line. We reached Linnville August 30th, camping near 
 the spot where General Robert h McCook had been mur- 
 dered August loth, 1862. He had become prostrated by a 
 wound he had received at Mill Spring, Ky., which was follow- 
 ed by a severe attack of dysentery. He was lying on a bed in 
 an ambulance which was driven along between two regiments 
 
 —53— 
 
of his division. A small band of guerrillas commanded by 
 Frank Gurley, dashed out of the woods, and seeing the ambu- 
 lance contained an officer of rank, who was lying on the bed 
 undressed, asked who he was. Just then, the Federal 
 troops coming in sight, they shot him as he lay and made 
 good their escape. 
 
 Shortly after going into camp we were sent back to 
 picket the rear, beyond the town of lyinnville. In the 
 morning as the assembly sounded in camp, our pickets were 
 called in and the Captain detailed comrade, Joseph M. 
 Thompson, and myself to fill a number of canteens at a spring, 
 just outside the picket line. Returning we were fired upon 
 by guerrillas, the same band that had murdered Gen. Mc- 
 Cook, and both of us fell by the wayside, wounded. 
 
 The company came to our rescue, and, with the aid 
 of mounted scouts, succeeded in capturing two of the band, 
 who were taken to Nashville, tried and convicted of the 
 murder of Gen. McCook and were hung. One of them made 
 an address on the scaffold; declaring his innocence by saying, 
 "I have never taken the life of any man." 
 
 lyinnville was burned that morning, it being the home 
 of the leader of the guerrilla band. 
 
 Our wounds were dressed and we were placed in an 
 ambulance and taken through to Stevenson, Alabama, with 
 the hospital tents and supplies. All day long the bush- 
 whackers followed us, keeping up a continuous fire on our 
 rear guard. Crossing the state line the next day at Boiling 
 Spring, we were on Alabama soil. The country was rough and 
 the people very poor. At Athens we struck the valley of 
 the Tennessee, about twenty-five miles above the shoals. 
 
 We slept in the hospital tent. After breakfast we dis- 
 covered we had a scorpion for a bedfellow. It had crawled 
 under the blanket and there curled himself up as cozy as 
 you please. The scorpion of the southern states is of the 
 
 -64— 
 
"genus bruchus" species — are small and their sting was 
 often fatal. 
 
 Huntsville is twenty-two miles from Athens, which 
 distance we marched in one day. It is the county seat of 
 Madison county, Alabama, and is ten miles north of the Ten- 
 nessee. It was a beautiful town, surrounded by the best of 
 plantations, many northern capitalists having settled there 
 before the war. 
 
 We pushed on to Stevenson, forty miles distance, in 
 three days. The roads were rough, especially for wounded 
 men. One of the springs of our ambulance was broken the 
 second day, and we were jostled over the stones at a great 
 rate The next day we arrived at Bridgeport and there 
 joined the first division of our corps, and the reserve corps, 
 commanded by Gen. Gordon Granger. 
 
 Dr. Henry M. Duff, having been our family physician 
 before the war, took me into his own mess and tent and we 
 were not sent with the rest of the sick and wounded back to 
 Nashville. While we lay at Bridgeport, Frank Duff the 
 Hospital Steward, took us with him out into the country, 
 so uth of the river, with an ambulance in search of milk and 
 delicacies for the sick. We came to a cabin about five miles 
 from the river on the Alabama side. The family seemed poor 
 and ignorant. The old man talked freely. He seemed to think 
 the country somewhat changed, but had no definite idea of the 
 cause of the calamities that befel him and his neighbors. 
 He had been told that a "feller named Abe Linkum had 
 raised old Satan some hows and was ruinatin things, but he 
 diden't know for certain. He had hearn that a feller 
 was speakin round for Congriss or suthin, tellin the 
 people to secesh and he heern they had seceshed. Thars 
 suthin about the niggers in it, but weuns hav'nt got any 
 niggers and don't know much about it. Of course we could 
 get salt and things if it wasn't for them abbilisheners. These 
 
 —65— 
 
were substantially the words of the old man — a specimen of 
 the "white trash" of the south before the war. They had 
 been falsely educated and believed that Lincoln was the 
 author of all the woes that befell the south. The people of 
 Northern Alabama were very poor and had the least possible 
 communication with the outer world. The women were 
 clothed in the coarsest fabrics, spun on hand wheels and 
 woven on rude domestic looms, such as are found today as 
 souvenirs of the back wood's cabin. Pitiful to the last degree, 
 was the condition of the country with its starving, rudely clad 
 mothers and abandoned wives, unwashed, uncombed, un- 
 attended children. The soil was poor, so poor that a com- 
 rade who had lost his way one night inquired at a cabin, of 
 an old man, who came to the door, "how far it was to 
 Brill's Ferry"? He found the old man's voice was so weak 
 that it was impossible to hear him and inquired; what is the 
 matter with your voice?" "The ground is too poor to raise 
 my voice — can't raise anything but an umbrella down hur," 
 replied the old man. 
 
 We moved on towards Chattanooga, marching all day, 
 and camped at sundown at the foot of shell mountain. A 
 bear cub was seen by the 86th. 111. boys, on the picket line 
 and was followed up the mountain and captured. Hungry 
 and tired, we lay us down to sleep and soon all was quiet 
 At eleven o'clock we were routed and ordered to be ready to 
 march in twenty minutes These were times to try men's 
 souls and tempers too, but at it we went, arriving at 
 Chattanooga just before day light. 
 
 —56- 
 
JOHN C. BKOWN, CO. E. 
 
 -57— 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 M 
 
 ORNING dawns and we have nothing for breakfast, 
 
 BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA. 
 
 dawns and we have nothii 
 no wagons or knapsacks. We ask each other, how 
 long this is to last, but our eyes feast upon the scene before 
 us. Stand by me, as I stood that beautiful September 
 morning, near McCook's headquarters watching the mists 
 clear away. The horizon all around rises and falls, like the 
 waves of the sea. Stretching along the east and following 
 to the south-west, you see the undulating ridge, edged with 
 a thin fringe of trees. That is Mission Ridge, and you are 
 looking upon what is to be the theatre of future battles. 
 Looking south, Lookout Mountain is before you, grim and 
 grand. Glorious glimpses of five states may be seen by 
 those who stand upon its summit, but this is denied us just 
 now. Within this sweep of grandeur lies a thing whose 
 name shall endure, when yours and mine shall have been 
 forgotten. It is the town of Chattanooga. Before war's 
 fingers had clutched it, there was one main business street to 
 give to it a little commercial pulsation; residences, some of 
 them beautiful, a few of them stately. A stunted, rusty 
 looking market house, four or five churches of indifferent 
 fashion, two or three hotels, whose entertainment has de 
 parted, and a few low tenement houses are about all there is 
 of the city for which we are contending. 
 
 As you pass along the central street, the dingy signs of 
 old dead business catch the eye, where "A Long, Attorney 
 at law," once uttered oracles and tobacco juice, federal stores 
 have taken place of law books. Where ribbons and laces 
 
 -58— 
 
ran smoothly over the salesman's fingers, the cot of the sick 
 and the quiet step of the nurse may be seen and heard. 
 Fences have gone up in camp fires. Tents are pitched like 
 mushrooms in the flower beds, and gardens are occupied as 
 mule pens. Such was Chattanooga as we saw it on the 
 morning of September 13, 1863. 
 
 Upon the sidewalks is a procession ot blue coats all 
 day, and you may look and not see one woman of the noble 
 race that put men upon their honor and make the world 
 braver and purer. The Southern aristocracy had fled with 
 the rebel army. To be sure, you may see many an "Aunt 
 Chloe," dressed in turban, like a sooty chimney, red hot st 
 the top. And there, too, is a colorless native, a woman that 
 had come down from the mountains, dressed in white, un- 
 washed, uncrinolined, unflounced. When I saw her, she 
 had come to the post office, expecting to get a letter from 
 her husband, who had been conscripted into the rebel army. 
 When informed that no mail came from the rebel army, she 
 stood in front of the building, the picture of sadness, and 
 seemed to be meditating on what she would do, all the 
 while^spitting at a mark, a nail head, and tobacco juice at 
 that. A few hours in such a place as that made one think 
 of home, of peace and plenty. That condition was possible 
 before the war. There were white as well as black slaves, 
 and that conflict redeemed the poor whites as well as the en- 
 slaved blacks. 
 
 Chattanooga had less than four thousand population 
 when Bragg left with his army and rebel sympathizers. It 
 is situated on the Tennessee river one hundred and fifty 
 miles from Nashville by rail. The river was navigable as 
 far as Knoxville. We reached Rossville Gap, September 
 14th. The wagon train did not reach us, and we were ne- 
 cessarily thrown on our own resources. It was "root hog 
 or die." Our Col. Dan said, "Get to the woods boys and 
 
 —69— 
 
keep out of sight." The boys kept coming in all day with 
 meat and forage of all kinds, necessary to satisfy a hungry 
 soldier. Gen, Gordon Granger, who was in command of the 
 reserve corps, of which we were now a part, began to arrest 
 the foragers and by four o'clock had quite a number of them 
 tied up by the thumbs with cords stretched over the limb of 
 a tree, in front of his tent. 
 
 Our men fell in and marched with fixed bayonets 
 column in front to the General's tent, without an officer, and 
 demanded the release of the men who were being punished. 
 The General in a rage ordered a section of our own Battery, 
 the 2nd, Illinois commanded by Capt. Barnett to open fire 
 with blank cartridge on the complainants, then if they did 
 not disperse, with grape and canister. But the battery re- 
 fused to move to a man. The cords were cut by our men 
 and they quietly moved back to their quarters. The officers 
 of the regiment were ordered to deliver up their swords, but 
 the battle of Chickamauga coming on in a few days the whole 
 matter was lost sight of. One thing that seemed to indicate to 
 us that Gen. Granger was afraid of the outcome of his 
 severity in discipline was the temporary transfer of our 
 Brigade from the reserve corps to Gen. Steadman's Division 
 in the first day's fight at Chickamauga. 
 
 On the evening of September 17, the three corps of the 
 Army or the Cumberland, for the first time in three months, 
 were in supporting distance of each other. The left rested 
 at Rossville Gap. the right at Steven's Gap, beyond Lafay- 
 ette. Rosecran's force was about sixty thousand, but a fair 
 estimate of our forces engaged at Chickamauga is fifty-two 
 thousand. Wagner's Brigade held Chattanooga, and Post's 
 was guarding the trains and were not engaged. According 
 to the most reliable data obtainable since the war, Bragg's 
 aggregate force was over eighty thousand, Bragg's right 
 was near I^ee and Gordon's mill, and his left near Lafayette. 
 
 —60— 
 
Longstreet's corps com- 
 ing to Dalton by rail road, 
 was to cross at the 
 bridges and fords below 
 the mill, and, if possible 
 drive the whole army 
 up the valley, and thus 
 get between our forces 
 and Chattanooga. Dan 
 McCook's Brigade was 
 posted at Reed's bridge 
 on the morning of the 
 first day's fight. Early 
 in the morning our men 
 captured a number of 
 prisoners that proved to 
 be from Longstreet's 
 corps, which had just 
 arrived from Rich- 
 mond. 
 CAPT. s. M. NEIGHBOR, CO, D. Tlic battle of Chicka- 
 
 mauga was opened that morning by our pickets, as at Perry- 
 ville, and the bridge was stubbornly held, until late in the 
 afternoon, when the rebel General Bushrod Johnson affected 
 a crossing. Our mounted troops saved Crittenden's corps 
 on the first day, by their resistance of the enemies ap- 
 proach to our lines. The opening skirmish began for the 
 possession of a spring between the pickets of the 52nd, and 
 the enemy, which was the beginning of the historic battle 
 of Chickamauga. 
 
 Our brigade was thrown on the extreme left of the line 
 in the second day's battle, except late in the afternoon, when 
 we were moved out on the line near the Snodgrass house, 
 and were fortunate in not being driven from our position 
 
 —61— 
 
when darkness came on. Our loss was light, only seven- 
 teen killed and wounded. 
 
 During the night the 86th 111. covered the retreat of Rose- 
 cran's army, until within the trenches around Chattanooga. 
 It was the most fiercely contested battle of the war. Gen. 
 John B. Gordon in his lecture on "The last days of the 
 Confederacy" labors to prove that Chancellorsville was the 
 hardest fought battle of the war. Those who have gone 
 over the Chickamauga battlefield and saw the undergrowth 
 of timber, almost entirely shot away, can have some idea of 
 the storm of lead necessary to produce such results. The 
 ordnance officer of McCook's corps, says "That one hun- 
 dred and four wagon loads of bullets alone were fired at the 
 "Johnny's" by that corps, at Chickamauga. 
 
 Astounding as this statement may seem, it does not 
 give one so clear an idea of the amount of lead shot away 
 in a battle, as the statement of Mrs. Snodgrass, around 
 whose house the storm of battle raged, Sunday afternoon, 
 September 20th. In answer to the question as to how the 
 battle affected her financially, she said, that everything 
 was destroyed and that she and her children would have 
 suffered, had it not been for the lead they had gathered from 
 the battlefield. She also said, that they had gathered 
 hundreds of pounds of bullets, which they sold in Chatta- 
 nooga, at five and six cents per pound, and that this crop did 
 not fail them for some years. 
 
 I was left in Hospital No. 3 in Chattanooga while the 
 battle was fought, not being fully recovered from the 
 wounds received at L/innville, Tennessee. 
 
 I saw not the charge and counter charge, but I saw the 
 deadly work, the blood and carnage. On the morning of 
 the first day's battle the wounded began to arrive. The 
 surgeons laid off the green sash and coat, rolled up their 
 sleeves, spread out the terrible glitter of steel, and made 
 
 — «2— 
 
ready for work. The wounded came in slowly at first, one 
 man nursing a shattered arm, another and another lying here 
 and there, waiting his terrible turn. The work goes right 
 on, arms are lopped off like slips of golden willow, feet, that 
 never turned from the foe, forever more without an owner, 
 strew the ground. 
 
 Knives are busy and saws play. It is a bloody work. 
 The surgeon who does his work well, is a prince among 
 men. Cool and calm, quick and tender, he feels among the 
 arteries and fingers the tendons as if they were harp strings. 
 A poor fellow writhes and a smothered moan escapes him. 
 "Be patient my boy," says the surgeon cheerfully, I'll make 
 you all right in a minute." It was a right arm that was to 
 come off at the elbow and the boy slipped off a ring, that 
 clasped the poor useless finger that was soon to blend with 
 Tennessee soil, and put it in his pocket. Another sits up 
 while the surgeon follows the bullet that has buried itself in 
 his side. "George," said a comrade, who was starting home 
 on a furlough, to one who had been mangled by several shots, 
 "What shall I tell them at home for you?" "Tell them," 
 said he, "that there is hardly enough of me left to say I, 
 but hold down here a minute, "Tell Kate there is enough of 
 me left to love her still." 
 
 Such scenes as these were witnessed every day in the 
 hospital, and such everywhere followed the battle. Many of 
 those seriously wounded fell into the hands of the enemy, 
 and the worst cases were paroled. I. S. Winters, of Co. I, 
 40th Ohio, fell in a charge by a canister ball lodging in the 
 fleshy part of the leg below the knee. As he lay on the 
 field in the sun, he took his knife from his pocket, cut out 
 the ball, was paroled and lived to preach a number of years 
 after the war. 
 
 During the night of September 21st, the army of the 
 Cumberland was withdrawn from the lines at Rossville, to 
 
 —63— 
 
Chattanooga. Our brigade and a brigade of regulars were 
 left to hold the breast works until after midnight. At one 
 time the brigade of regulars became panic stricken and ran 
 over our lines. Col. Dan was very angry and cursed them 
 as cowards. When all had passed, we, too, marched silently 
 away after the main body. The union loss is officially 
 stated at 1,641. killed, 9,262 wounded and 4,945 prisoners. 
 The Confederate reports are wanting. 
 
 JOHN I. CABLE, CO. A. 
 
 —64- 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OUR STAY AT NORTH CHICKAMAUGA. 
 
 LONGSTREET never reported his losses, but the entire 
 loss was not far from 18,000, while our own was 15,- 
 851. The enemy advanced slowly, taking possession of 
 Missionary Ridge and the valley between the ridge and 
 Lookout Mountain, also the mountain, picketing the south 
 bank of the river to Bridgeport, compelling our wagon trains 
 to come to Stevenson by way of Jasper, cross the Sequatchie 
 valley and Waldron's Ridge, a distance of 58 miles from the 
 terminus of railroad facilities, and completely blockading 
 the river in the use of boats. The pos .ession of Chattanooga 
 was of great importance to the north, both as a base for fur- 
 ther advances and as the key to loyal E^st Tennessee. When 
 the battle was over our army had ten days' rations and am- 
 munition enough to last two days' hard fighting, while on 
 the defensive, earth- works grew like "Jonah's gourd," yet 
 we were in a tight ^IdiCe— bottled up. The Brigade camped 
 in the cemetery until the 25th, when we crossed the river 
 and moved up the river eight miles to the mouth of North 
 Chickamauga, camping at Caldwell's Ford 
 
 It had not rained for some time and the river and creek 
 were very low, but the water was very clear and pure. We 
 built heavy fortifications along the line of the river and felt 
 that another move would not be made soon, as neither army 
 was in the condition to take the oflfensive. From our camp 
 we had a fine view of Lookout Mountain, now occupied by 
 the rebels, who seemed to say, "If we cannot whip you, we 
 can look down upon you." With the October winds came 
 
 —66— 
 
the long looked for rain and Oh! how it did rain. It rained 
 all day, and it rained all night. One evening we were re- 
 lieved from the picket line by the 86th 111. Dark came on 
 and we started for camp. We lost our way in the darkness, 
 the creek was very high and the temporary bridge had been 
 swept away. We put up in an old log building for the night. 
 The next morning we came upon an old homestead, standing 
 where once a garden smiled. The fences were gone, the 
 grounds black and bare, the meaning of the word desolation, 
 not be be found in the lexicon, could be seen on the face of 
 all these regions, and the people only added human intensity 
 to the picture, for they looked like men and women whose 
 almanac was a fragment; people without a tomorrow. If 
 there is anything in the world more desolate, I have yet to 
 see it. A poor old horse was feebly grazing, near by a man 
 sat in the doorway, gazing vacantly at the scene before him, 
 stripped of all, garner empty, fields unsown The little band 
 had wandered away, and now he came all alone that day to 
 linger around that home he loved. As we looked at him, we 
 said, "If God does not always temper the wind to the shorn 
 lamb," he sometimes blesses the creature with thorough en- 
 durance. 
 
 Election day came October 13th. By a law passed the 
 winter before, Ohio soldiers were allowed to vote. It had 
 been one of the most exciting campaigns ever known at 
 home, but all was quiet in the army. The voting was con- 
 ducted in the same manner as elections at home. The con- 
 test for Governor was between John Brough and C. ly. Val- 
 landigham. The regiment cast 338 votes, 327 of these for 
 Brough, and eleven for Valandigham. Our company cast 
 39, all of which were for Brough. Fourteen were under 
 age, showing that we had fifty-three men able for duty in 
 the compan}', and four hundred and seventy-two in the 
 regiment. The army was reorganized. Rosecran's was re- 
 
 —66— 
 
lieved, and Gen. Thomas put in command. McCook and 
 Crittenden were both relieved. The old Twentieth and 
 Twenty-first were consolidated and called the Fourth, Gen. 
 Granger in command. We were assigned to the 14th corps 
 with Gen. Jeff. C. Davis as division commander. We are 
 now in the 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, 14th Army corps. 
 
 Our condition and prospects grew worse and worse. 
 The roads were in such a state, that the wagons were eight 
 days in making the journey from Stevenson to Chattanooga, 
 and one time there were five hundred teams halted between 
 the mountain and the river, unable to pull through for 
 want of forage for the animals. The artillery horses were 
 dying so fast that batteries could not have moved under any 
 circumstance. Men working on the fortifications, shouted 
 "crackers" at the officers as they passed. All kind of 
 schemes were practiced to get rations. Enlisted men would 
 purchase in the name of a commissioned officer, and when 
 the latter applied, he would be told, that he had already re- 
 ceived his allowance. We were part of the time on quarter 
 rations. I have eaten three days' rations for breakfast and 
 dinner, and skirmished round for the other seven meals, and 
 have gone to the butcher pens and scraped the beef hides 
 for material, out of which to make soup. Prof. Leibig said, 
 "a man who eats beef, and another who eats bread, view a 
 difficulty from an entirely different standpoint, that a man's 
 dinner flies into his head by the same sign that it goes into 
 the stomach, and that what he eats makes thought as well 
 as muscle. So to know a people thoroughly you must 
 either examine their larder, smell their chimney smoke, or 
 stroll through their market. " I wonder how the Professor 
 would carry out his theory in our camp, for we were actual- 
 ly starving. We did steal the corn from the mules, and the 
 mules and horses starved by the thousands, as every man in 
 the army of the Cumberland knows that Sherman had to 
 
 —67— 
 
bring up horses to move the artillery of our array at Mission 
 Ridge. The trees were barked everywhere by the hungry 
 animals. Men thought they heard the train coming with re- 
 lief, but it was only the sough of the wind among the moun- 
 tains. The bridge, the bridge was all their thought. Their 
 
 faces grew fixed; there 
 was but one anxious ex- 
 pression on them all. 
 They lifted up their eyes 
 and saw Bridgeport and 
 Stevenson and Nashville 
 filled with army stores, 
 while famine stared them 
 in the face. They were 
 like men athirst in the 
 desert, for whom the 
 magic of the mirage lifts 
 the clear waters with 
 their cool margins of 
 green and mocks with 
 the shadow of blessing 
 their dry and dying eyes. 
 At last Hooker came with 
 fifteen thousand men 
 from the east, and Look- 
 out valley was opened up 
 and when his cannon began to roar the boys said, "Hooker 
 is opening up our cracker line", so he did, bringing our sup- 
 plies thirty-one miles nearer, and we took a long breath, for 
 the pioneer of great joy had come and we had plenty again. 
 But the boys had many things to be thankful for. We had 
 unbounded confidence in "Pap Thomas," who had said to 
 Grant, "We'll hold Chattanooga, if we starve. 
 
 Again there was seldom an exchange of shots, between 
 the pickets. Very few men were shot from Oct. to Nov. 
 
 —68— 
 
 W. J. McOANN.CO. E. 
 
2oth. And still another thing gave no cause for complaint — 
 the boys found some way to get their tobacco. You could 
 always tell when a boy was out of tobacco, especially on 
 picket. Everything would smoke on the train, from the 
 engine to the axle. The negroes would sing and pray pat 
 juba, or dance for tobacco. In Northern Alabama the wo- 
 men chew and smoke. Picture one of these women, guilt- 
 less of reading, writing, soap, water or religion, who says 
 "you uns" and "weuns," with a piece of tobacco in her 
 mouth and two or three children at her heels, and you have 
 the counterfeit presentiment of a type of white folks, fairly 
 pushed over the edge of decent existence. They grew up 
 in the mountain country of the south. Most of them in- 
 dulged in the luxury called "dipping". Take a stem of sas- 
 safras, chew it into a bit of a broom at one end, dip it in 
 snuff and sweep your mouth with it, leave the handle stick- 
 ing out of one corner, like a broom in a mop pail, and you 
 have as much of the fashion as I mean to describe. We had 
 a sample of the ea.stern army in Hooker's men, and saw 
 them tested afterwards in many a hard fought battle. 
 
 The first week in November, Longstreet left our front 
 with his corps and Wheeler's cavalry to drive Burnside from 
 Knoxville. We returned from Lookout Valley to our old 
 camp at North Chickamauga and began fixing up our quar- 
 ters for winter. There was no change at the front. We 
 carefully guarded the river, occasionally throwing a shot 
 over from our battery to keep the "Johnnies" awake. We 
 were paid off on Sunday the 15th. The rebels were throw- 
 ing an occasional shell at us, and we thought, perhaps, the 
 paymaster was desiring to get away from the danger. They 
 tried to scare us on the morning of the 1 7th by shelling our 
 camp, killing Chaplain Levi Sanders of the 125th 111., he 
 being the only man injured. 
 
 We asked one of the 125th boys, a few days afterwards, 
 why the Chaplain was the only man touched, and he said, 
 
 —69— 
 
"I suppose he was the only man in the regiment that was 
 prepared to die." 
 
 Recruiting Sergeants were sent home to fill up the de- 
 pleted ranks Very few were on the sick list. While our 
 camp duties kept us out of mi.schief, many strange inci- 
 dents occurred while we camped here that cannot readily be 
 forgotten. One of the companies had a boy, who vowed he 
 would not have his hair cut while the war lasted. One 
 evening, on dress parade the Colonel ordered the Captain to 
 make a detail and cut his hair close to the scalp. The de- 
 tail was made and the comrade was held down on the Com- 
 pany street, while his head was stripped of his shaggy locks, 
 in the presence of the whole regiment. 
 
 It was at North Chickamauga that a guard fell asleep 
 while sitting on the top of a pile of corn that had been pulled 
 with the husks on. When three companies of the regi- 
 ment had carried away two-thirds of the corn, Volney Blue, 
 of Company F, slid head-foremost to the ground, and awoke 
 to find himself within a few feet of Maj. Holme's tent, and 
 his guarded treasure gone. The next morning, every tent 
 was searched and not an ear of corn found. Nov. 20th, 
 Gen. Bragg sent in a note requesting the removal of non- 
 combatants from the city. Grant had arrived and fearing 
 that Bragg might slip away, either to escape battle or push 
 through by Knoxville into Kentucky, ordered Thomas to 
 move out and force the enemy to develope their lines. We 
 laid quietly in our camp until after midnight of the morning 
 of the 24th, when we were ordered to assist Gen. Sherman 
 in crossing the river above the enemy's right. One hundred 
 and sixty canvass row boats were quietly launched in the 
 bend of the creek. Gen. Giles A. Smith's brigade was the 
 first to enter the boats, the 52nd Ohio and 86th 111. furnish- 
 ing the oarsmen. Five oarsmen and twenty-five armed men 
 in each boat, floated silently down into the Tennessee and 
 
 —70— 
 
down that stream, crossing at a designated point above the 
 mouth of South Chickamauga creek where two regiments 
 landed and, moving quietly, captured all the enemy's pickets, 
 taking the officer of the day out of his bed in a house near 
 by. Meanwhile the flotilla dropped down below the mouth 
 of the creek, landed the other regiments of the brigade, and 
 at once rowed back to the north shore for another load. By 
 day-light, on the morning of the 24th, 8,000 men, two divi- 
 sions, were on the south bank and covered by a strong rifle 
 trench. 
 
 The pioneer corps at once began to throw a pontoon 
 bridge, 1,350 feet long across the Tennessee, and another 
 across South Chicamauga creek. Both bridges were com- 
 pleted before noon. Providence favored us with a heavy fog, 
 and the mi^t about the city and Lookout enabled a small 
 steamboat, the "Dunbar," to ferry some of Sherman's horses 
 across, to be used in moving Thomas's artillery, as his 
 horses were so nearly starved they were unable to move the 
 batteries. Our division. Jeff. C. Davis', crossed on the 
 bridge. 
 
 —71— 
 
*^fc*fe. 
 
 PETER GIFFEN, CO. F. 
 
 -72- 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MISSION RIDGE AND RHLIEF OF BURNSIDK. 
 
 GRANT had intended making the attack the day before, 
 but the delay was unavoidable and lamented. If I 
 may say so, the wheels upon their axles had been rusted by 
 the rain, and the machine was motionless. What a strange 
 problem is a battle, dependent sometimes upon a breath of 
 wind or a drop of water. All day the rebel lines were rest- 
 less. Trains and brigades passing and repassing, like the 
 sliding pictures in a magic camera. There was a fearful 
 looking for of coming judgment. The work of landing the 
 troops on the other side had kept us from our rest for two 
 nights, and we stacked arms in the rear of Grant's head- 
 quarters, which was in the rear of Orchard Knob. The 
 knob was a conical mound, perhaps a hundred feet high, 
 once wooded, but now bald. In front of it were ledges of 
 rock and a rolling sweep of open ground for two miles or 
 more, and seemed to dash against Mission ridge, that lifts it- 
 self like a sea wall, eight hundred feet high. It was wooded, 
 rocky, precipitous and wrinkled with ravines. On the top of 
 that wall were the rebels and their batteries. Below the first 
 pitch, three hundred feet down are more rebel batteries, and 
 still below are their camps and rifle pits. 
 
 At one o'clock, twenty five hundred yanks were in line, 
 led by a line of skirmishers. You should have seen that 
 line, two miles long, as straight and unwavering as a ray of 
 light. On they went, driving in the pickets before them. 
 On the summit of Mission Ridge, a little to the south-east 
 
 -73— 
 
of Fort Wood, was a cluster of buildings. Gen. Grant is 
 viewing them with a field glass, and he tells his chief of 
 staff that there is a gray horse ready saddled at the door, it 
 is the headquarters of Braxton Bragg. Gen. Hooker pushed 
 his lines round Lookout and up the slopes, fighting all day 
 and until one o'clock in the night. A curtain of cloud was 
 hung around the mountain all day by the God of battles, 
 even our God. It was the veil of the temple, that could not 
 be rent. Friend and foe were wrapped in a seamless mantle 
 and two hundred would cover our entire loss, while our 
 brave mountaineers strewed the mountain with four hun- 
 dred dead, and i,ooo prisoners. The 40th Ohio leaped over 
 their works, as the wicked twin Roman leaped over his 
 brother's mud wall, capturing their artillery with a Missis- 
 sippi regiment and gaining a point on the summit. This is 
 the story of Joe Hooker "fighting above the clouds", and it 
 was true. When lyOokout was captured. Hooker and his 
 men were far above the cloud mist that enveloped the 
 mountain. We, in the valley, never witnessed a grander 
 sight. The flash of the guns was like the play of lightning 
 in the heavens above us. It was Sinai over again, with its 
 thunderings and lightnings and thick darkness, and we 
 knew the Lord was on our side, and when the thunder be- 
 gan to roll around Lookout, we stood as almost in the pre- 
 sence of the God of the whole earth. The afternoon is half 
 gone, and Grant for the first time shows signs of restless- 
 ness. His hour had come. The north and the south are 
 marshalling for a great conflict. A hundred thousand wit- 
 nesses cover the hive sloped hills. It is the most solemn 
 congregation that ever stood in the presence of the God of 
 battles. The signal guns are firing. Out moves the 
 skirmish line and after them the splendid columns. They 
 charged to the first rifle pits with a cheer, forked out the foe 
 with the bayonets and lay there, panting for breath. The 
 
 —74- 
 
enemy opened all along the line. It was rifles and mus- 
 ketry, it was grape and canister, it was shot and shell. Mis- 
 sion Ridge had been the sounding-board for Chickamauga 
 before. The old army of the Cumberland had been there — 
 it is here. It is said that the men did not wait for orders 
 to charge the Ridge. Look and you see the most startling 
 episode of the war. The men are up, Sheridan with his hat 
 on the point of his sword, is saluting the enemy and making 
 for the hill like a bold riding hunter. They go up, up to 
 the crest. See those banners that were borne at Pea Ridge, 
 bathed in blood at Ft. Donnelson, glorified at Stone River, 
 waved at Shiloh, and riddled at Chicakmauga. Three times 
 the flag of the 27th 111. goes down atxd,j'07( know why, three 
 color sergeants lie between the base and the summit. But 
 the flag is immortal, it conies up again and the regiment 
 moves on. How sublime was the thunder of the artillery; 
 it was like the foot of God on the mountain side. Just as 
 the sun, weary of the scene, was sinking out of sight, and 
 we were wishing for some Joshua to stay its course, that in- 
 vincible army swept over the crest, and the day was ours. As 
 we went up with Sherman to the left, we looked, and that 
 old flag was there. The routed hordes rolled off to the north 
 and east, like a worn out storm cloud. Bragg, who ten 
 minutes before was putting his men back into the rifle pits, 
 rode off into Dixie, at a "two-forty," gait. On Monday be- 
 fore, he had said the Yankees would leave Chattanooga in 
 five days. They left in three days by way of Mission 
 Ridge, straight over the mountains as, their fathers did. 
 
 But the scenes on that hill top can never be painted. As 
 our boys surged over the rebel works, cheer after cheer, rang 
 like bells, through the valley of the Chickamauga. Men 
 flung themselves, exhausted, on the ground. They laughed, 
 they wept, they shook hands and embraced each other, then 
 turned around and did the same thing again. It was as wild 
 
 — 7B— 
 
as a carnival. A little German boy was pierced like the lid 
 of a pepper box, but is neither dead nor wounded: "see here, 
 
 captain, see here, a pul- 
 let hit the preech of my 
 gun, a pullet in my 
 pocket book, a pullet in 
 mein coat tail, dey shoots 
 me, tree, five times, and, 
 mine Gott; I'se all right 
 yet." How that old 
 East Tennesseean, who 
 gave us such a welcome, 
 got there, nobody knows, 
 but there he was, grasp- 
 ing our hands and say- 
 ing "I knew you Yanks 
 would fight." Up be- 
 hind Mission Ridge rose 
 the silver moon, for it 
 was full that night. No 
 blood in it, for the earth 
 drank it up, and by eight 
 
 FIRST LIEUT. ALEXANDER SMITH, o'clock all WaS QUiet. It 
 
 oo. E. was a great victory. 
 
 Fifty-two pieces of artillery, 10,000 stands of arms, 7,000 
 prisoners, yet I could not roll the burden from my heart. 
 All these would not bring back to life the brave men who 
 fell in achieving it. More men fell in that battle, with 
 whom I had been acquainted, than any other battle of the 
 war. Let that struggle be known as the battle of Mission- 
 ary Ridge, suggestive of the great mission of freedom. And 
 now, as the calmer days of peace have come, and the north 
 and south have joined in commemorating that struggle, in 
 monuments to their dead, and annually make a pilgrimage 
 
 —76— 
 
to those battlefields, and greet each other under "Old Glory," 
 they will need no guide to conduct them to the spot where 
 the battle raged. 
 
 Rust may have eaten the guns; the graves of the dead 
 may have been opened and the bones removed; the soldier 
 and his leader may lie down together, but there stands Mis- 
 sion Ridge, a fitting monument, and there it will stand for- 
 ever. We started in pursuit of the rebels, early next morn- 
 ing, in the direction of Gray's Station on the Knoxville rail- 
 road. The enemy made a stand in the edge of a meadow, 
 fringed with a heavy growth of underbrush. We were de- 
 ployed as skirmishers. A minnie ball struck the blade of a 
 small hatchet, which we carried in our belt, bending the 
 blade, but saving our life. We charged them, capturing a 
 number of prisoners and part of their wagon train. A 
 wagon load of tobacco was distributed among those who 
 used the narcotic. Knoxville was besieged by Longstreet, 
 and we set out to relieve Burnside, who was in command of 
 the forces, marching eighteeti to twenty-five miles a day, 
 without overcoats. Many of our men were almost barefoot- 
 ed. One of my shoes was almost gone. Henry H. Scott 
 and I drew a pair between us. He took the right shoe, and 
 I mated the left, and thus we fared much better than many 
 of the company. The government was abundantly able to 
 clothe her soldiers, but was over three hundred miles from 
 her base of supplies, with but one line of communication and 
 that frequently raided by the enemy. The wonder is that 
 we fared as well as we did. With two days' rations when 
 we left Chickamauga, we lived off the country, until we halt- 
 ed, nine miles from Knoxville, at Ganiey's Mills, at the 
 junction of the Connassauga and Hiawassie rivers. L,ong- 
 street gave up the siege, and retreated toward Lynchburg, 
 Va. Capt. Hutchinson was a miller by trade, and made 
 the old mill hum, running it day and night, grinding corn 
 
 —77— 
 
and buckwheat, and we fared better for a while. Here we 
 found unmistakable signs of loyalty to the old flag. Wo- 
 men and children were as false to the south as fathers, 
 brothers and sons were, and woe to the rebel soldier, who 
 was recognized as such, who followed paths into which he 
 was guided by these loyalists. Thepeople were poor. They 
 read the Bible and Parson Brownlow's Whig and death to all 
 enemies of the Union was their watchward. The bush- 
 whacker's definition of war was written accurately in tears 
 and blood and flame. 
 
 While camping at the mill near the Chilhouri Mountain, 
 in company with lyieut. Miser, Joe Swan and Benton Wil- 
 son, the Colonel's hostler, with three comrades from Co. E., 
 we went out in search of forage for the horses. A few 
 miles out, we separated, Lieut. Miser, Swan and the colored 
 boy going up the valley, while we turned down the stream. 
 The Lieut, and his party succeeded in finding a still-house 
 and filled their canteens. Stopping at a farm house, they 
 awaited dinner. We will let Benton tell their adventure in 
 his quaint way. They left him out in the road to watch. 
 He says — "I was standing by the gate talking to a yaller gal 
 when she startled me with the cry, 'Dere comes de rebs.' I 
 jumped de fence, run through de house hoUerin' "de rebs is 
 a comin', but de poor Lieut, and Swan, dey had too much 
 ofde still-house and didn't hear me. De rebs saw me a 
 makin' for de mountain and shouted 'Halt dere' — but I 
 didn't halt. I jist took de wings of de mornin' and flew up 
 de mountain and dey didn't catch dis nigger. But poor 
 Lieut, and Joe, were captured. Dey were to full to heah 
 me." Kimbrough's bushwhackers took them prisoners, 
 with three good horses. The men had borrowed 
 Major Holme's brace of pistols that they might be ready for 
 an emergency, and these were gone. Maj. Holmes sent a 
 detachment of troops eight or ten miles across the mountain 
 
 -78— 
 
and brought in Kimbrough's father as a hostage, and brought 
 the son to time. In a few days, the men and three horses 
 were exchanged for the father, the only loss being the brace 
 of pistols. We turned down the valley and found a house 
 where we waited for dinner. While waiting, a breathless, 
 excited colored boy came running into the house and said, 
 "Missus de yanks is comin' down dar in de road, and dere 
 won't be nary a chicken left 'fore night on de place," and Joe 
 rubbed his hands together, grinned and twisted his body, 
 and giving me a nod, went out. Suspecting trouble, we 
 followed him. "Dere's no yanks heah abouts, but you'd 
 better look out for dem whackers over de hill, I saw some 
 dis mornin'." I asked Joe what he intended to do when he 
 was set free. "I dunno marsa," he answered, "but I'se 
 gwine to sleep in de sunshine, wrapped up in pancakes, an 
 yaller gal angels dere will pour lasses ober me." This was a 
 a heavenly picture of perfect negro beatitude and its realiza- 
 tion was near at hand. Taking Joe's hint of danger near, we 
 gathered up what our haversacks would hold and struck for 
 camp. 
 
 Dec. 15th we broke camp in East Tennessee, starting 
 back to Chattanooga. The weather was stormy and we suf- 
 fered for shelter and food. We had left Mission Ridge after 
 the battle for the relief of Burnside but three weeks before. 
 The day we started was Thanksgiving, and we were happy 
 as we could be. We had moved in light marching order, 
 without baggage wagons. Now, on our return from that 
 excursion, the hardest line of privations we suffered during 
 the war came. Wet and shivering, the soldiers trudged along 
 by day through the mud, churned by the tread of countless 
 feet, but when night came, we crept under our cheerless pup 
 tents, often with only brush or rails to keep our chilled 
 bodies from the cold, sodden ground. Crossing the Ten- 
 nessee at Chattanooga at mid-night, on the ferry, we marched 
 
 —79— 
 
JOHN SMITH, CO. D. 
 
 —80— 
 
to our old camp on North Chickamaiiga, finding every- 
 thing as we left it four weeks before. The work of improve- 
 ment goes briskly on. We think we are to stay here all winter. 
 Plenty of clothing, plenty of rations, no parched corn or beef 
 tripe. How unlike the weeks spent here when Bragg 
 watched the almost empty pot boil over the slow camp fire. 
 
 Christmas came, but a soldier's Christmas was like other 
 days. Even the Chaplain seemed to have forgotten the day 
 and nothing occurred. We did not hang up our stockings, 
 but they were full in the morning, because we slept with 
 them on. Our dinner consisted of hardtack, bacon, coffee 
 and bean soup. Speaking of Chaplains, you ask me how 
 about their work and efficiency. The Chaplaincy at best 
 was an office difficult and thankless, demanding the best 
 men to fill it well and worthily. Men whose presence and 
 bearing put soldiers upon their honor, and it is safe to say, 
 that he who was fit to be a Chaplain, was fit to rule a people. 
 Two-thirds of the Chaplains who failed, were without back- 
 bone to assert their rights with the offirers of the regiment. 
 I have known a Colonel to call out the regiment on Sunday 
 dress parade, during the religious services of the Chaplain, 
 and because he remonstrated, was put under a ban at head- 
 quarters. Many of them were efficient. There was that old 
 loyal hearted Lyon of the 85th 111. Well equipped with a 
 heart and no head to speak of . A pure man. I used to 
 think the regiment grew daily worse. They asked him to 
 resign a day or two before the battle of Kenesaw. On the 
 day of the charge he carried water to the men all day. In 
 the hottest places there was the old bronzed face ot this man 
 of God, and the bond between the Chaplain and the men was 
 sealed on that field, which will hold good to the end of their 
 lives. Chaplain McFarland of the 97th Ohio was a minister 
 of mercy. Verily, I say unto you he has his reward. No- 
 body could tell tonight where he will be tomorrow, and yet 
 
 —81— 
 
with the morning's dawn, the camp is astir, and the prepara- 
 tion began for staying all winter. The cozy little cabins, 
 begun before the battle of Mission Ridge, were finished and 
 neatly fitted up, adorned and ready. A fire-place is artistic- 
 ally constructed and plastered with the inevitable red earth. 
 A crane is hung in it, no one knows where it came from, a 
 dinner pot adorns the crane and the whole interior presents 
 a genuine homelike air. A bit of looking glass against the 
 wall. A substitute for carpet marks the stepping-oif place for 
 the land of dreams. Snugly fixed in just such a snug little 
 cabin, my mess mate, Tommy Thompson, and I settled down 
 in peace, when just before tattoo, Christmas night, down 
 comes an order to march at five in the morning. No com- 
 plaints, no murmurings, no watching out the night. Every 
 bundle of a blanket has a sleeping soldier in it. Every 
 knapsack has a drowsy head upon it. At four, bugle calls to 
 breakfast. The camp is awake. A drizzling rain has set in, 
 but unusual fires are built, for the wood must be cleaned up. 
 "Be ready to start at five," shouts the sergeant major. Tents 
 are struck, knapsacks packed, wagons loaded, mules har- 
 nessed, all is read)'. Soldiers have notions, and among them 
 are the destruction of improvements. The cottages are in 
 flames, and the stools and tables are reduced to glowing 
 coals, and if they don't fiddle as Nero did while their Rome 
 is burning, they are having a jolly time of it, with their 
 fun and jokes. It was a dingy morning, when the brigade 
 marched out of camp with a good cheer, the army wagons 
 streaming and swearing after us, we are bound for— we don't 
 know where We looked back upon that old camp, leaving 
 nothing behind but empty desolation. Will you wonder if 
 I tell you that I have watched with a pang of regret that 
 old camp, worn smooth and beautiful by the touch of brave 
 feet, whose owners have trod upon thorns with song ? Feet 
 — alas! how many of them in all this coming and going 
 
 —82— 
 
world, will ever make music again on the old threshold ? 
 How many such sights of perished cities that war made, and 
 how many bonds of good fellowship have been rent to be re- 
 united no more ? Oh, how many memories came crowding 
 in upon us as we left that old camp. It was there we had 
 the "blues," so bad at times, that some of the boys are spot- 
 ted yet. There, where we gathered about the towering cliffs 
 of Lookout more than three months before, when all the 
 future was wrapped in doubt. 
 
 CAPT. A. C. THOMAS, CO. C. 
 
 —83— 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MoAFEE CHURCH AND LEE AND GORDON'S MILLS. 
 
 A X 7" E cross the Tennessee at Chattanooga, go over Mis- 
 V V sionary Ridge, camping at McAfee Church. The 
 brigade, in the absence of Col. McCook was coniniHuded by 
 Col. Harmon, and the Division by Gen. Jeff C. Davis. 
 Here we began to fix up for the winter, the companies being 
 divided into messes of from six to ten men, with a captain 
 to each mess. We immediately set to work erecting a log 
 shanty to winter in. It rained three days, then turned cold. 
 The night before New Year's was memorable as the coldest 
 night ever known in the north. Many places the mercury 
 went down to forty degrees below zero, while we thought it 
 went to the bottom, in camp. Part of the mess kept up the 
 fire while the rest slept. In the morning we found can- 
 teens, that had been filled with water, that were frozen and 
 bursted. 
 
 The New Year came in cold and dreary, while we suf- 
 fered greatly for want of shelter. A proclamation had been 
 read offering S400 bounty and thirty days' furlough to all 
 veterans who would re -enlist. One hundred and forty 
 thousand re-enlisted during the month of January from the 
 veteran regiments. Three hundred of these tried veterans 
 were worth more than a thousand raw recruits to Sherman's 
 army. 
 
 On the morning of the 6th, Dr. A. J. Rosa, assistant 
 surgeon of the regiment, was found dead in his tent. He 
 
 —84— 
 
suffered greatly from neuralgia, and on retiring had taken 
 a dose of morphine from which he never wakened. He 
 was a quiet faithful officer, respected by all. 
 
 We moved six miles south of McAfee, February 14th, 
 camping near Lee and Gordon's Mills, where we began the 
 life of a soldier in earnest, drilling four hours a day, polic- 
 ing camp and picketing. 
 
 The regiment received eighty seven recruits, filling up 
 the depleted companies of the regiment, giving us 578 able 
 for duty. These recruits had to be drilled, and we were at 
 it every day. One morning as we were returning from 
 Chattanooga, we had the pleasure of witnessing our division 
 on drill. Old fashioned Jimmy D. Morgan of ist Brigade 
 was in command. Gen. Morgan spent sixty-three years of 
 his life in the army and died in Quincy, 111., Sept. ]8th,i8q6. 
 
 The sun shone grandly upon the hedges of bayonets, 
 and flags grew deep and rich in the light, and breasts of 
 dark blue were built into a wall. Aids galloped out from 
 the group around the General, down the line and back to 
 position again. Bugles blew and the stately line was a 
 column. A wing unfolds here, and a wing there. They 
 flapped together as noiselessly as an eagle's. It was an or- 
 der of march, it was a line of battle. The bugles blew on, 
 and then the field was checkered with squads, like a chess 
 board for a mighty game. They were as true as a die, as 
 exact as a problem in Euclid. There, in equal spaces, be- 
 tween the angles of the square, was formed Barnett's Bat- 
 tery. How it got there nobody could tell. In an instant 
 there was a glitter and a flash. The cavalry were upon 
 them. There was a rustle along the lines, the batteries dis- 
 appeared, the hedges melted away, the squares were col- 
 umns, the columns were lines, and away marched the bat- 
 tallions. In all there was no shout, no oath, no loud com- 
 mand. 
 
 —85- 
 
The General, away yonder upon his horse, moulded 
 and fashioned thousands at will. He could have taken 
 them through Jerusalem's narrow gate, the ''needles eye." 
 
 The handling of men was a rare art. It was conceded 
 that Major Holmes was the hero of the third brigade in the 
 evolution and movements of a regiment. I have seen a 
 Colonel make three attempts to get his men through a fence 
 gap, two rails wide, and set his men to throwing the rails 
 like a herd of unruly cattle. 
 
 The coming of no officer, except a well beloved com- 
 mander, was so heartily welcomed by the boys, as that 
 gilt-leafed gentlemen with the iron trunk, which gave every- 
 thing the color of greenbacks. We received two months' 
 pay. The winter had been very severe and it was remark- 
 able how many of the boys overdrew their allowance for 
 clothing. The Government allowed us four dollars a 
 month, and charged us the following prices in the spring of 
 sixty-four: Overcoat $7- 50, pants $3.50, blouse $3.12, shoes 
 $1.48, boots $2.87, hat $1.68, cap 54 cents, drawers 95 cents, 
 shirt $1.35, dress coat $6.25, woolen blanket $3.25, rubber 
 blanket $2.55, canteen 44 cents, haversack 48 cents, socks 
 32 cents. 
 
 We must say our clothing was good in quality, as good 
 as we could ask for the price paid, but it was often poorly 
 made. Contractors were foiled in their attempts to defraud 
 the Government in sending out worthless goods. Our 
 trouble was mostly found with the unscrupulous class of 
 men who inspected the goods for the Government 
 
 Particularly was this the case with the shoes issued to 
 Sherman's men as we left Savannah for the Carolinas, and 
 the soldiers were outraged by the fraud. 
 
 Much of our time was employed in making trinkets to 
 send home. Every company' had its craftsman, "a work- 
 man that needeth not to be ashamed." Shells of rare 
 
 —86— 
 
beauty, and exquisite 
 coloring, blue, green, 
 pink and pure pearl, were 
 found in the streams. 
 Look into a boy's knap- 
 sack, while we camped 
 at L,ee and Gordon's 
 Mills, and you will be 
 quite sure to find a shell 
 in it. Of those queer, 
 broken little shells 
 of former life, the 
 soldier made rings, 
 pins, hearts, arrows, 
 chains, and crosses. When 
 you see the rough tools 
 they used, and note the 
 elegance of form and 
 finish, and the things 
 they made, it would com- 
 GEO. s. THOMAS, CO. K. pel ouc to admit the 
 
 genius of many a boy who carried a musket. With a flat 
 stone for a polishing tool, he would grind down the shell, 
 and with a knife and file, shape little fancies that would not 
 be out of place in a jeweler's velvet — beautiful souvenirs of 
 battle fields. 
 
 This little touch of fine arts gave our camp a pleasant 
 homelike look. We have watched the workmen putting the 
 final touch on a ring, by the light of his inch candle, flaming 
 from a bayonet, as earnestly as if the trinket possessed the 
 charm of Alladdan's lamp, and rubbing it would summon 
 the spirits. 
 
 Our camp was on the ground fought over by Rose- 
 crans. Many Union soldiers were buried by the enemy on 
 
 —87— 
 
the field. As we strolled over the field we have seen hands, 
 shriveled and blackened in the sun, looking like some mum- 
 my from the Pyramid of Cheops, thrust out of the earth in 
 mute appeal, as a strange memento of the battle. But we 
 thought these sleepers shall spring to resurrection again, in 
 song and story. 
 
 Shells were found upon the battle field by relic hunters, 
 and were valuable for the tubing, which was used in mak- 
 ing rings. One Sabbath morning we started over the battle 
 field in search of lumber for the Regimental- commissary. 
 On our return a six pound shell was picked up by one of 
 the detail, who, after trying in vain to get the tube out of 
 it, laid it upon a stump and concealing his body, tried to 
 break the shell with a hatchet. It exploded and Jimmy 
 Bond carried home an empty sleeve. Not being injured in 
 the line of duty, he failed for many years in an effort to ob- 
 tain a pension. He visited Washington City during Corpo- 
 ral Tanner's short reign and was placed upon the pension 
 roll: 
 
 The boys delighted in teasing Billy Freeman, the Ser- 
 geant Major. Billy was a soldier, every nich of him, hav- 
 ing served in the Brittish army seventeen years, and was 
 very particular in requiring promptness in reporting all de- 
 tails. He presisted in saying "horderly," for orderly, and 
 "gobbler" for corporal. 
 
 One dark night Billy came down to our quarters, yell- 
 ing for the "horderly of Company He," and when he had 
 found him, demanded "six men and a gobbler, immediately." 
 The boys began to yell, "horderly," ''horderly," while Billy 
 went down the street cursing everybody to "ell." 
 
 As he turned out of our Company street he plunged into 
 the Company mess sink up to his belt, and, as it was filled with 
 grease, desiccated vegetables and soup, every boy was out of 
 
bed in a minute, listening to his vocabulary of English cuss- 
 words. 
 
 While we lay in camp at the Mills, many of the boys 
 advertised in the Cincinnati Commercial for young lady 
 correspondents, and scores of them found themselves busy 
 answering letters. This correspondence was generally 
 harmless, and without a single impropriety. For a little 
 amusement, we arranged with the adjutant for answering 
 one of these advertisements. His letters were retained 
 and we kept up the correspondence two or three months, 
 when the scheme was detected by exchange of photo- 
 graphs. How many soldiers thus diverted their minds 
 from the tedium of camp life, and how many acquaintances 
 were formed with profit to the soldier boy. 
 
 We stayed so long at Camp Lee and Gordon's Mills 
 that^ we grew very familiar with everything around us. So 
 familiar that even one of our boys picked out a wife from 
 among the country lasses and they were married in New 
 England style, with apple-jack for the boys, who gave them 
 an old fashioned "down easter" serenade. Quite a number 
 of them were unable to get into camp for roll call in the 
 morning, and took a rest in the guard house. The groom 
 was tied up by the thumbs, by Col. DanMcCook, formarry- 
 mg the girl contrary to orders. When the war was over he 
 went down to Georgia, hunted up his little southern wife 
 and settled there. Maj. Holmes had his iron gray horse 
 severely kicked on the stifle at McAfee Church, and left it 
 with a native, near Lee and Gordon's Mills. When we were 
 mustered out our adopted son of the new south received an 
 order from the Major to get his horse ana ride it through to 
 Ohio. He got the horse, but lost his way, and has not yet 
 arrived. The Major, however, thinks that the recording 
 angel blotted out that item, as the poor boy suffered enough 
 when Col. Dan tied him up for marrying the southern girl. 
 
 -89— 
 
It commenced snowing at midnight, Saturday the 22nd, 
 and continued until noon the next day. Eleven inches of 
 snow fell. Our company was on picket and we slept with- 
 out shelter. At daylight, we raised up and saw little 
 mounds like a grave-yard, and as the sleeping soldiers arose, 
 there came to us a vivid picture of the resurrection from the 
 dead. We returned to camp in the morning, in time to take 
 part in the greatest battle of our army service, the battle of 
 "Snowballs." The 52nd and the 86th 111. were pitted 
 against each other. The fun went on until the whole brigade 
 became involved. Charge after charge was made, one side 
 or the other carrying off as prisoners the officers who led 
 their men. At one time we had several officers of the 86th, 
 while they had our "Own Holmes." A flag of truce was sent 
 in and terms of peace were negotiated. It was a great day 
 of fun. We started one morning in force at ten o'clock, for 
 a reconnoitre to stir up Bragg and let him know we were 
 "doing business at the same old stand." We stopped at 
 Tunnell Hill for the night, meeting only a small cavalry 
 force. Next morning we drove the enemy down towards 
 Mill Creek gap, where we found them buzzing like a hive 
 of bees at morning time. We called at a house by the road- 
 side and while examining the contents of a barrel, brought 
 up from the bottom a new silk rebel flag which had been 
 presented to the 8th Georgia regiment by the ladies of Dal- 
 ton. On entering the house, we found a captain of that re- 
 giment, sick, but concealed under the bed. He was home 
 on a sick furlough and had brought the flag with him to 
 have the letters embroidered on it. Col. Clancy sent the 
 flag home after our return to camp. 
 
 "Better is a friend that is near than a brother that is 
 far off," so says the old proverb. Our dearest friends seemed 
 to be far off. We thought of our mothers and sisters as our 
 dearest friends and could not bear the thought of having 
 
 —90— 
 
them share with us in the rude usages of camp Hfe. So we 
 were shocked on the morning of the 26th, when we heard we 
 had an assistant surgeon in place of Dr. Rosa, Dr. Mary E 
 Walker. How she got her commission no one seemed to 
 know. She wrote me that Gen. Thomas commissioned her, 
 and we think that is correct. It seems that she never was 
 carried on the rolls nor do we find her name on the Roster 
 of Ohio soldiers. Possibly, she never was mustered, but she 
 draws a pension from the government as an assistant surgeon. 
 
 She was born in Oswego, N. Y., in 1S32, and graduated 
 in a medical college in Columbus, O , in 1855. She com- 
 menced the practice of medicine in that city the same year, 
 and that may account for her coming to our regiment. She 
 says, "I served as acting assistant surgeon of the 52nd 
 Ohio." She had the rank of ist Lieutenant and was dressed 
 just like any other officer The uniform was dark blue and 
 the trousers had a strip of gold lace down the side. She 
 wore curls, so that everybody would know she was a wo- 
 man. She was thirty-two years of age and had practiced in 
 her profession five years. In form she was slender and 
 rather frail looking in body. The men seemed to hate her, 
 and she did little or nothing for the sick of the regiment. 
 She began to practice in her profession among the citizens 
 in the surrounding country Every day she would pass out 
 of the picket line, attending the sick. All this time many 
 of the boys believed her to be a spy. One day a messenger 
 came after her from the reserve picket post on the road to 
 Eafayette. A squad of rebel cavalry took her prisoner and 
 she was sent to Richmond, where she was a prisoner in Lib- 
 by four months. After her exchange she visited the regi- 
 ment shortly after the battle of Jonesboro. 
 
 At the close of the war Congress awarded her a medal 
 of honor. She worked in the Treasurery and Pension de- 
 partments at Washington, but she was in constant trouble 
 
 —91— 
 
LIEUT. JAMES H. DONALDSON, CO. E. 
 
 —92— 
 
and was finally discharged. We believe she was honest 
 and sincere in her views, posing as a reformer, yet the ma- 
 jority of the men in the regiment believed she was out of 
 her place in the army, and have so treated her since the 
 war. She is still living near Oswego, the place of her birth. 
 Her hair is almost white at the age of 68. Her brother left 
 her a farm with a charming old-fashioned house on it, where 
 she has started a training school for wives. 
 
 Did you ever go out with a flag of truce? If not, let me 
 give you a little of what I saw one afternoon on picket. A 
 group of horsemen approached our line with a white flag. 
 They were halted, and wheeled about, their backs to the 
 federal lines, their rank demanded, and a messenger dis- 
 patched to headquarters, announcing the arrival and asking 
 if the flag would be received and an interview granted. A 
 Yankee officer of equal rank with the bearer of the message 
 was sent out and they each saluted the flag. But what sur- 
 prises you most, is to see that they shook hands and smiled 
 like old friends. The officers bearing and receiving the 
 message, dismount, move apart and confer. The errand was 
 to pass a lady through our lines to the north. 
 
 The little conference over, they mingle on that hand 
 breadth of neutral ground, spend a few minutes in conversa- 
 tion, apparently free and frank, salute each other and wheel 
 away, returning each to his own, while we looked on, lean- 
 ing upon our muskets. 
 
 Flags of truce and the bearing of hostile pickets toward 
 each other always puzzled those who were not in the war. 
 They thought that the two armies had nothing but the dead- 
 liest hatred toward each other. And yet nothing can be far- 
 ther from the truth. Right on the eve of battle we have 
 munched biscuits that our neighbors have tossed us. And 
 two days after the battle of Jonesboro I saw a plug of tobacco 
 in a picket's pocket that showed the print of a rebel's teeth 
 at one end, and a yankee's at the other. 
 
 —93— 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ATI^ANTA CAMPAIGN TO THE TAKING OF ROME. 
 
 WE are about to start on the Atlanta Campaign. The 
 52nd Ohio mustered 519 officers and men, 261 of 
 whom were killed or wounded before Atlanta fell. The 
 regiment served to the end of that campaign in the third 
 brigade, second division, fourteenth army corps, The bri- 
 gade was commanded by Col. Dan McCook, until he was 
 killed in the assault at Kenesaw Mountain The brigade 
 consisted of 85th, 86th and 125th Illinois, 52ud Ohio, and 
 22nd Indiana Infantry and Barnett's 2nd Illinois Battery, 
 Company I. 
 
 The 86th Illinois was organized at Peoria, 111., August 
 27, 1862, Col. Robert S. Moore commanding. The regiment 
 was recruited in Mason, Tazwell, Fulton, Menard, Wood- 
 ford and Schuylar counties, with an aggregated strength of 
 959. The regiment mustered out at the close of the war 322 
 men They were fine looking men, and made a record of 
 which their state is justly proud. 
 
 The 86th Illinois was organized at Peoria the same 
 date, August 27th, 1862, Col. David D. Irons commanding. 
 The regiment was recruited in Woodford. Marshall, Peoria, 
 Knox and Tazwell counties, with an aggregated strength of 
 993 men, and had 468 when mustered out. The regiment 
 made a fine record and the 52nd can refer with pleasure to 
 many acquaintances they formed in three years of army life. 
 
 The r25th Illinois was organized at Peoria, September 
 4th, 1862, Col. Oscar T. Harmon commanding, with an ag- 
 gregate strength of 933 and mustered out 424 men. They 
 
 —94— 
 
were brave men and true, proudly sustaining the record of 
 our brigade in the Atlanta Campaign. 
 
 The 22nd Indiana was organized in 1861, being re- 
 cruited from the counties of Clark, Scott, Jefferson, Brown, 
 Washington, Floyd, Bartholamew, Jackson and Jennings, 
 Jeff. C. Davis commanding. 
 
 The regiment had just returned from a veteran furlough 
 the first of May and Gen. Davis had it assigned to our bri- 
 gade. Col. Mike Gooding succeeded Davis. Col. Tom 
 Shea lost his right arm at Peach Tree Creek. The regiment 
 lost heavily at Kenesaw and could be depended on always 
 in a fight. 
 
 The Second Division was commanded by Gen. Jeff. C. 
 Davis, and the Fourteenth corps by Gen. John M. Palmer. 
 The army of the Cumberland by Gen. George H. Thomas. 
 Grant was now in command of all the Union forces and ar- 
 ranged a concert of action between the east and the west. 
 There was a completeness about the campaigns of 1864, 
 which rendered that year of the conflict an interesting study 
 in modern warfare. 
 
 Grant was then about forty years of age. He had dark 
 sandy hair, light blue eyes, a bearded face, a general in- 
 difference, but not slouchiness, of figure. He went about 
 unattended, with his head down, and much of the time with 
 his hands in his pockets. But he was the conqueror of 
 Vicksburg and Chattanooga, and commander in chief of 
 more than a million men. With Grant commanding in the 
 east and Sherman in the west, both resolved on victory, be- 
 lieving they would achieve it. Sherman said to Gen. Don- 
 aldson, chief commissary at Nashville, "I am going to move 
 on Johnson the day Grant telegraphs me, he is going to 
 move on Bobby I^ee, and if you don't have my army sup- 
 plied and keep it supplied, we'll eat your mules up, sir — 
 eat your mules up.". 
 
 -95— 
 
Fortunately we were 
 not reduced to such ra- 
 tions, but it well shows 
 his loyalty and spirit. 
 
 Gen. Sherman was 
 then in the prime of life, 
 a tall brisk wiry man 
 with dark reddish hair, 
 inclining to baldness, 
 sharp blue eyes, kindly 
 as a rule, but cold and 
 hard as steel sometimes; 
 an aggressive, fighting 
 nose and mouth, consid- 
 erable of a jaw, and a 
 face a mass of wrinkles. 
 He usually wore only a 
 simple blouse, but al- 
 ways with his proper 
 shoulder straps on, and 
 was noted for his high 
 shirt collar. He impressed you at once as a keen, wide 
 awake man of affairs, with a mind and a will of his own. 
 
 Knowing what was needed and resolute to do it, he 
 was the soul of honor, of spotless integrity, a royal friend 
 and a kindly gentleman. As a great companion of Lincoln, 
 Grant and Thomas, his place in history is secure forever. 
 I refer to these great leaders, knowing that you, my com- 
 rades of the 52nd, are proud of them, and that we shall not 
 lose sight of them in continuing the history of the regiment. 
 Gen. Sherman began the Atlanta campaign with 98,797 
 men and 254 guns. It is true he outnumbered Johnson, 
 who could muster May ist, 58,000. By the 25th of May 
 reinforcements numbering fully 22,000 were added, but we 
 
 W. J. BBADFIELD, CO. C. 
 
 —96— 
 
must consider that Sherman was on the aggressive in the 
 heart of the enemy's country, groping his way over the 
 mountains and through wooded valleys, with at least 20,000 
 of his army guarding his rear, while Johnson was on the 
 defensive, at home, concentrated, and largely fortified — a 
 big and weighty difference m warfare. 
 
 Let me give you some idea of our source of supplies. 
 We could not fight battles without powder, neither could 
 we win them without pork. Bread and bayonets go to- 
 gether. The life nerve of Sherman's arm>' was one line of 
 railroad, running across three states, and three great rivers 
 — and the wonder is that these supplies reached the army at 
 all. From Louisville to Nashville, 185 miles, from Nash- 
 ville to Chattanooga 155 miles, and from Chattanooga to 
 Atlanta 140 miles, a total of 475 miles. How that railroad 
 was ever kept in repair I cannot tell. It carried the victors 
 and the vanquished, burdens of hope and heavy loads of 
 pain. The wounded and the dead all passed along those 
 tattered railings. Night and day, day and night, forever to 
 and fro move the army legions. 
 
 Besides the railway, there was the unbroken column of 
 army wagons, enough of them to make a train two hundred 
 and twenty miles long. Hear the rumbling over that bridge 
 of boats across the Tennessee, as if the long roll were for- 
 ever beating. These bear the munitionsof life without which 
 the munitions of war would be harmless. The mountain 
 achievements of Hannibal and Bonaparte were trifles in 
 comparison. 
 
 When Sherman commenced pounding away at Johnson, 
 his nearest supply depot was 153 miles distance, and I do not 
 remember that we were ever short of rations during the en- 
 tire one hundred and twenty days. As I saw the white 
 canvass of the wagons through clouds of dust, coming and 
 going, I could liken them to a colony of ants, each hasten- 
 
 —97— 
 
ing away with its little white grain of an egg — and these wag- 
 ons are to supply almost a hundred thousand men, who are 
 marching to victory. 
 
 Gen. Palmer concentrated the Fourteenth corps at 
 Ringold on the 3rd of May, while our division advanced to 
 Stone Church, three miles south of Ringold, where we 
 camped on the evening of the 4th. On Saturday May 7th, 
 the campaign opened in earnest, the only fighting of conse- 
 quence being at the center Gen. Davis was in the advance 
 with the 52nd Ohio, Maj. Holmes commanding on the 
 skirmish line. Our skirmishers drove the enemy's cavalry 
 steadily until they drew fire from the enemy's guns on 
 Tunnel Hill. Barnett's battery was brought up and 
 McCook's brigade deployed. 
 
 The lines again advanced, Maj. Holmes making an at- 
 tack below the town, for which he was complimented in 
 Davis's report. 
 
 Stanley came up on our right, rendering the enemy's 
 position untenable and they retreated toward Mill Creek 
 Gap. 
 
 The 52nd Ohio can claim the honor of the first infantry 
 regiment to meet the enemy in that campaign. The 125th 
 Ohio, a splendid fighting regiment, known as the "Opdycke 
 Tigers," the second, as they were .selected to open the battle 
 on the next day. We were agreeably surprised to find that 
 no damage had been done to the tunnel or the railroad. As 
 we halted beyond the tunnel we could look into the gorge 
 by which the railroad passed through a straight and well 
 defined range of mountains, presenting sharp faces of rock 
 known as "Rocky Face" or "Buzzard's Glory". Through 
 this defile. Mill Creek flowed toward Dalton, which had been 
 dammed up by the enemy, making a sort of an irregular 
 lake, covering the road a half a mile or more, thus obstruct- 
 ing it. The position was the strongest one, perhaps, be- 
 
 —98— ' : . 
 
tween us and Atlanta, and Uncle Billy Sherman had no in- 
 tention of storming it, yet the next morning we pushed up 
 the face of the hill until part of our line was on the summit. 
 
 The fight was kept up all day, the men keeping under 
 cover of rocks and trees and firing at every one that showed 
 a hand above the works. In advancing our line we moved 
 to the right flank. In company with Julius Byers, we were 
 loading and firing when he fell, a ball from the enemy 
 passed through both elbow joints, the shock to the brain 
 killing him instantly. 
 
 From the lofty summit there was a magnificent view. 
 The ridge separated the hostile armies. Looking back, as 
 far as the eye could leach, we saw great masses of soldiers 
 in blue; guns were stacked, and men were waiting for or- 
 ders to move. Some were marching and taking position on 
 the line on the other side. In plain view were the enemy's 
 camps, swarming with men in gray and "butternut". At 
 night we could see the camp fires gleaming and twinkling 
 for miles, showing the position of both armies, and could 
 hear a chaplain distinctly as he preached in the rebel camp 
 below, and joined them in singing the closing hymn, "Am 
 I a soldier of the cross". 
 
 A very strange incident occurred on the line during the 
 day. A member of the 125th Ohio was firing, had just 
 raised his rifle to the shoulder and was ready to pull the 
 trigger, when a ball from the enemy entered the muzzle of 
 his gun, causing the rifle to drop from his hands. Had the 
 muzzle of his gun varied a fourth of an inch either way he 
 would have been killed. We were relieved before midnight 
 by one of Harker's regiments. 
 
 Morning broke. It was a Scottish morning and the air 
 was dim with mist, but we were ready and eager for the 
 fray. We had put our hands to the burning plowshare and 
 
CORP. JOSEPH M. THOMPSON, CO. E. 
 
 -100— 
 
here was no thought of turning back. At five we were on 
 our way to Snake Creek Gap, with the 23rd Corps behind us. 
 
 The men who shouldered the pen during the war — the 
 correspondents — sneeringly told how fields were won fight- 
 ing with shovels. The man who successfully starts out on 
 a campaign no more forgets the pick and shovel than he for- 
 gets the powder. Sherman never marched without the tools 
 and never halted without entrenching. After the battle of 
 Chickamauga, Gen. Johnson of Mississippi, said to Bragg, 
 "Having beaten the enemy, why didn't you pursue the ad- 
 vantage?" "Well," replied Bragg, "my losses were heavy 
 and my line was pretty long and bj^ the time I could get un- 
 der motion the yankees would have been ten feet under 
 ground." So we considered the pick ax and shovel as 
 weapons of war. 
 
 Thus we moved out that morning, each regiment fol- 
 lowed by the shovel brigade. We marched very slowly 
 during the day, but made up the delay by marching all 
 night, resting an hour, about three in the morning. We 
 were getting ready to make coffee when the officers shouted 
 "fall in". We marched up the valley with the inevitable 
 coffee kettle swinging from our bayonets. If the Yankee 
 soldier had been a fellow traveler with Bunyon's Pilgrim, I 
 almost believe that tin kettle of his would be heard tinkling 
 after him to the very threshold of the "gate beautiful". 
 
 We learned at daylight that Dalton had been evacuated 
 the night before and Johnson had fallen back to his second 
 base of fortifications at Resaca, from Dalton to Resaca be- 
 ing about 25 or 30 miles. There we are to have a new ex- 
 perience. We came to a halt. The campfires were twink- 
 ling in the morning twilight. More than ten thousand men 
 are camped here; valley and hill are tangled in a net work 
 of paths. Everywhere are soldiers sitting beneath trees 
 in the open air, or lying on their blankets. Some are writ- 
 
 —101— 
 
ing, yonder sits one playing a flute, another is drawing the 
 long bow, a group over there are discussing Perrysville or 
 Mission Ridge. Around a box of hard tack and a pile of 
 russet slabs of bacon, with sugar, rice and coffee, are gath- 
 ered a group of men, tin cup and haversack in hand, waiting 
 for their rations. Within the circle stands the 5th sergeant, 
 the company commissary, who answers the prayer, "Give 
 us this day our daily bread". The distribution goes on, 
 while some boy in his bare feet steps upon somebody's slice 
 of bacon, showing you that the army is a capital place to 
 get rid of your notions, where you can settle your loose 
 joints and fall in line with mother earth and fresh air. 
 
 A battle usually comes between two breadths of sleep. 
 Saturday morning came and we awoke to find all astir. 
 Troops were moving. We lay upon a hillside part of the 
 forenoon. General Sherman rode along the line in front of 
 us, accompanied by his staff. A solid shot from a rebel 
 battery passed under the neck of his horse, causing him to 
 stand upon his hind feet, but "Uncle Billy" was master of 
 the situation. 
 
 The hardest part of the battle was fought in the after- 
 noon. We were ordered to support our batter}' and charged 
 up a hill, every man carrying a rail, where in twenty min- 
 utes we had a line of works, which were held until Johnson 
 withdrew in the night. Our loss up to this time was 29; 
 three killed or died from wounds at Rocky Face, two killed 
 at Resaca, and 23 wounded. F. M. Carter, of Co. C, was 
 killed early in the afternoon. He was a favorite in his 
 company and a splendid soldier. Capt Sturgis, of Co. B, 
 was severely wounded, and Jock Harrison of the same com- 
 pany lost his right arm at Rocky Face. 
 
 Twice our position was assaulted by the enemy, and we 
 shot away 60 rounds of ammunition to the man, yet we suf- 
 fered less, perhaps, than any regiment on the line. 
 
 —102— 
 
The enemy shelled us all night, while our battery fired 
 a shot every half hour, which kept us awake. Soldiers did 
 not fear shells except when they came in swarms. They 
 were great hum-buzzing creatures, that went to the tune of 
 "get out of the way," but the minnie ball, that was a miser- 
 able little pellet, that was alwa}'s to be dreaded, "zip" they 
 came, and with a thud, j^ou were placed "hors de combat." 
 
 Our total loss was heavy at Resaca, not so many killed, 
 680, while 3,375 were wounded. A little dutchman of the 
 io8th Ohio, in our Division, had two fingers shot off, as he 
 went back to the rear he passed Gen. Davis, and holding up 
 his wounded hand, he said, "Sheneral how much pension 
 don't you tink I get? Don't you tink I get two pensions." 
 
 During a thunder storm in the evening, a drove of cat- 
 tle, numbering between two and three thousand, stampeded 
 and three or four hundred of them ran into the rebel lines 
 and were never heard of again, Johnson retreated to Dallas 
 in the night, and the Fourth Corps entered Resaca in the 
 morning. 
 
 Our Division was at once dispatched down the valley to 
 Rome. We made seventeen miles the first day, and came 
 upon the enemy five miles from Rome The 22nd Indiana 
 were in advance, pressing the enemy so closely that many 
 prisoners were taken. The regiment lost eleven killed and 
 thirty-two wounded. Among the wounded were the Colonel, 
 Major and Adjutant. In attempting to cross the river on a 
 flat-boat, the rebels opened on us with three six-pounders, 
 striking the flat, and we thought we were lost. Part of our 
 men jumped into the river and swam to shore. Those who 
 could not swim managed to pole her to the landing. We 
 were among the first to enter the city. The rebel cavalry 
 had just gone out, leaving the town a wreck. What'^they 
 could not carry away they threw into the street. Books and 
 drugs, with merchandise of all kinds, dumped into the mid- 
 
 —103— 
 
die of the street in a promiscuous pile. We picked up a 
 copy of Webster's unabridged dictionary and arranged with 
 our company teamster to carry it until we could ship it 
 home. Being scarce of money, he traded it for a plug of 
 tobacco, and my ambition to save it as a souvenir of the war 
 was forever blasted. An immense amount of stores, con- 
 sisting of rice, sugar, flour and cotton was found, showing 
 us that the enemy had been surprised, 
 
 J. p. KENDRICK, CO. K. 
 
 -104- 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 FROM DALLAS TO KENESAW. 
 
 THE love for the old flag gushed out unexpectedly like 
 a spring in a desert. Many a Union prisoner has 
 been startled into tears at finding a friendly heart beating 
 close beside him. A few days before we entered Rome, a 
 squad of Union prisoners passed through Rome on their 
 way to Andersonville. They were treated shamefully by 
 the rebel women; pelted with cotton balls and greeted with 
 jeers and taunts. An oflScer who was among the prisoners, 
 sat down, sick and worn out, with his face in his hands. A 
 lad pulled the officers coat, and catching his breath, boy 
 fashion, said, "are you from New England?" "I was born 
 in Massachusetts," was the reply, "So was my mother," re- 
 turned the boy. "She was a school marm. She married 
 my father and I'm their boy. How she loves the old flag, 
 so do I." The officer cut a button from his coat and gave 
 it to him for a remembrance. We met that boy, Eddie 
 Ransom, during our stay in Rome, and have wondered many 
 a time what became of him. 
 
 The capture of Rome was unexpected to Gen Sherman. 
 When Gen. Davis was detached at Resaca, we had orders to 
 follow Garrard's cavalry down the Oostanaula to the mouth 
 of Armuchee creek, where it was supposed a bridge existed 
 by which Garrard's and Davis' men were to cross and destroy 
 the railroad between Rome and Kingston and then rejoin 
 the main column. Gen. Davis marched i6 miles on the i6th. 
 In the night Garrard passed through his camp enroute for 
 
 —105— 
 
Resaca, reporting no bridge to be found. Gen. Davis then 
 determined on his own responsibility to advance to Rome 
 and secure the bridge there . 
 
 Sherman was moving steadily toward Dallas. Johnson 
 was snugly entrenched behind the Allatoona hills. Sher- 
 man marched twenty five miles south to Dallas, leaving the 
 railroad, thus compelling Johnson to retreat to Marietta. 
 
 Our Divi.sion marched from Rome by the way of Van- 
 wert, to join our corps, the 14th, on the 25th. The battle of 
 New Hope church was fought mainly by Hooker's corps. 
 The church was four miles north east of Dallas. Sherman 
 superintended this battle in person, and I was informed by 
 a comrade of the 79th Pennsylvania, that the General slept 
 the first night by the side of a log, with no covering but a 
 blanket, which one of the boys of that regiment shared with 
 him. 
 
 We were temporarily assigned to a place in the line be- 
 tween McPherson and Joe Hooker. The next day an as- 
 sault was made on our immediate right, which was repulsed 
 with heavy loss to the enemy. During the lull in the fight, 
 a group of officers were standing in our rear, among whom 
 were Generals Sherman, Logan, McPherson, Burry, chief of 
 artillery, and Colonel Taylor. A minnie ball passed through 
 Logan's coat sleeve, breaking the skin and struck Col. Tay- 
 lor square in the breast. Luckily he had in his pocket a 
 famous memorandum book in which he noted the day's 
 events. It saved his life, but the ball passed through the 
 book to the ribs, disabling him for the rest of the campaign. 
 The enemy's sharp shooters got range of the only spring 
 near us, and many a boy lost his life in running the gaunt- 
 let. Tommy Taylor, Co. E., started for the spring in spite 
 of the remonstrances of his friends, sinking his csnteen in 
 the water, when tick — a rifle ball struck it at an angle and 
 bounded away. He thought it a chance shot, a piece of lead 
 
 —106- 
 
without any malice, so again he bent to get the water. Ping 
 a second bullet cut the cord of his canteen, and he said to 
 himself, "sharp shooter," and made for tall timber, "saved by 
 the skin of his teeth." When the notion that somebody is 
 making a target of you, creeps with its chilly feet slowly up 
 your back, you are ready to shrink into yourself, though you 
 may not be quite ready to own it. 
 
 On the evening of the 24th a teriffic rain storm came up 
 and the lightning ran along the bayonets of the guns of the 
 First Ohio. They had just taken their hands away, when 
 the lightning seemed to play upon the steel. The whole 
 regiment was severely shocked, yet no lives were lost. 
 
 May 29th our division relieved part of Scofield's corps, 
 and the next day we were relieved and marched eight miles, 
 joining our old command under Palmer, having been away 
 just fifteen days. Johnson withdrew from the front and we 
 moved to the railroad near Big Shanty, in sight of the fa- 
 mous Kenesaw mountain. 
 
 Thus in one month we had fought our way over rugged 
 hills and mountains, one hundred miles. The sound of 
 musketry and roar of artillery could be heard almost every 
 day. We being on the aggressive our loss was greater than 
 Johnson's, aggregating over nine thousand, theirs was about 
 one thousand less. Two divisions of the 17th corps, under 
 Frank P. Blair, came up the 8th of June. The same had 
 been home on veteran furlough. The reinforcement made 
 good our losses from battle and sickness. 
 
 Big Shanty had been made famous by the bold feat of 
 the Andrew's raiders, capturing an engine they started for 
 Chattanooga. Of all the adventures of the war none was 
 more daring. They were caught and most of them were 
 hung. We called them raiders, but the rebels called them 
 spies, and as spies they were hung. 
 
 —107— 
 
It is said there is nothing in a name, with them it 
 was all in the name. The same engine is one of the curiosi- 
 ties of the war and was a marvel for sight-seers at the 
 World's Fair at Chicago. 
 
 We rested at Ackworth a few days, washing our clothes 
 and writing letters. Sunday came, and as our Chaplain 
 scarcely ever had services while on that campaign, we start- 
 ed to find some place where we might worship with the 
 tried and true of the army of the Lord. 
 
 After blundering through camp we came upon the 
 43rd Ohio. The regiment was known as the "Marten box" 
 regiment, as every company in the regiment in the spring 
 time when in camp, erected poles with boxes on the top of 
 them, and there the marten's cbatterd every morning and 
 were fed on army rations. The services were just opening. 
 Chaplain Boute had resigned and a friend of Col. Wager 
 Swayne, R. L. Chittenden, had been appointed in his stead. 
 This was his first sermon. He was a young man, neatly 
 dressed, making us think of home and the days of "auld 
 langsyne." The Colonel was an interested listener. As 
 the services began, just in the rear of the audience a kettle 
 was boiling over a fire, where a soldier upon his knees be- 
 side it was apparently worshiping the hardware. But he 
 was no idolater, for a closer look discovered him fishing 
 in the kettle with something like a fork. The Chaplain's 
 text was John the Baptist's rep4y to the question of the sol- 
 diers, "what shall we do?" and the answer, "do violence to 
 no man, neither accuse any falsely, and be content with your 
 wages." No matter for the rumbling of the passing trains 
 and the noise of the camp, he kept right on, clear, earnest 
 and sensible, but the text was unfortunate. The Chaplain 
 was ignorant concerning the situation. The boys had not 
 been paid for six months, and they were indignant at ihe 
 godly man's boldness in chiding them tor the curses they 
 
 —108— 
 
had heaped ou "Uncle Sam" for a lack of promptness in 
 not sending them their hard earned wages. They were 
 mad and felt like whooping him out of camp, and yet I 
 could not help feeling a profound respect for the man and 
 the little group of worshipers at his feet. 
 
 We began to close in and around the enemy's position, 
 which embraced three steep ranges of hills, known as Ken- 
 esaw Pine mountain and I^ost mountain. In a day or two 
 the railroad was repaired up to the skirmish line. One day 
 an engine was detached from a train, and ran into the gorge 
 between Little and Big Kenesaw, to a water tank within 
 range of the rebel guns, in order to find the location of the 
 batteries. The run was made by the engineer, the tank 
 open, the tender filled, and returned answering the peal of 
 the enemy's guns by the scream of the whistle, while the 
 shouts and cheers of our men rang over mountain and down 
 the valley. Gen. Sherman was so well pleased with the 
 daring of the engineer, that he grasped his hand and thanked 
 him for his bravery, offering to pay him, but the hero re- 
 fused to take the money, saying, "I only did my duty and 
 am amply repaid in your hearty approval." Bishop Taylor 
 often referred to this incident, as an illustration of the rela- 
 tion of duty to reward. 
 
 The rain continued to pour and make our movements 
 very slow, entrenching as we went and building "corduroy" 
 for our supply trains. You would be interested in the 
 movement of a whole division in the night — flanking the 
 Jonnies it was called — sometimes a mile, sometimes more, I 
 could never tire of telling you how iron-like the men got to 
 be, but like the best machinery ever made, the continued 
 wear and exposure told on the toughest constitution and one 
 by one they began to drop out, and the regiment nearly 
 HOG strong, now stacks 478 guns. It is screened like grain 
 and the sturdiest manhood only remain. By June 14th the 
 
 —109— 
 
J. B. WORK, CO. a 
 
 —110- 
 
rain slackened a little and we occupied a continuous line of 
 ten miles, conforming to the irregular position of the enemy. 
 During the day we noticed a group of rebel oflGicers.jbelong- 
 ing to a battery, were hurrying to and fro on the top of the 
 mountain; finally they gathered with an officer and his 
 staff, who were inspecting our dinner by the aid of a field 
 glass. 
 
 A Prussian officer, who was in command of an Indiana 
 battery, known as "Leather breeches," ordered his men to 
 "shust tickle dem fellows." The second shot struck rebel 
 general Polk in the breast and cut him in two. Gen. Polk 
 was bishop of the Episcopalean diocese of Mississippi at the 
 breaking out of the war, and thus sacrificed life and all for 
 the south. 
 
 Our signal officer, having obtained the key to the rebel 
 signals, read the signal from Pine Mountain to Marietta, 
 saying, "Send an ambulance for Gen. Polk's body," and 
 this report was confirmed later in the day by prisoners who 
 had been captured. 
 
 The signal corps was indispensible in our movements. 
 Dispatches were thus sent from hill top to hill top, thus 
 keeping up communication with all parts of the field. Had 
 you been with us on picket at night, you might have seen 
 on the highest eminence, a light somewhat larger than the 
 planet Venus at the full, swinging after a mad fashion, and 
 near it another light. But after you had watched it for 
 awhile you would have discovered that there was method in 
 thit madness, every motion of that light meant something. 
 You watch it and it describes a quadrant, makes a semi-cir- 
 cle, stops, rises, sweeps left, rounds out an orbit and strikes 
 off at a tangent. The officer of the signal corps is talking 
 to somebody. In the daytime the officer gesticulates with 
 flags instead of the light, and so the talk goes on around 
 the sky. 
 
 —Ill— 
 
It rained again for a week and the weather had a won- 
 derful effect on the troops, especially in the woods where all 
 is blind and uncertain. An order came to "fall in" and get 
 your whiskey, known as "commissary whiskey." One of 
 the boys, after he had drank his ration, which was a gill, 
 said that he could smell the boy's feet that had plowed the 
 corn out of which it had been made. The medical director 
 had drugged it with quinine and other "microbe killers." 
 Rations of whiskey were only issued five times during our 
 three years of army life, and yet we never suffered malaria 
 or fever during our enlistment. 
 
 Here Henry Webber, of Co. I, was killed by a prema- 
 ture bursting of one of our own shells, while the next shot 
 from the rebel guns on the mountain struck a boy, lying in 
 his tent asleep, and cut him in two. He belonged to the 
 85th Illinois. 
 
 Next day it cleared up and the sun came out. We 
 could see where we were. Stanley's and Wood's Divisions 
 made a successful charge on our right, taking a hill which 
 the enemy tried to retake three times without success. It 
 was here that the 15th and 97th Ohio suffered the greatest 
 loss of the campaign. 
 
 Sitting the next morning just over our line of breast- 
 works, under a clump of bushes, writing our weekly mes- 
 sage home, unmolested, except an occasional shot from the 
 mountain, there was a flash, a long, lushing, shivering cry 
 and a shell strikes in the mud embankment, exploding and 
 covering us with earth. We beat a hasty retreat, landing in 
 the ditch among the boys. Our battery charged a Rodman 
 twelve-pounder. It speaks and down comes a carriage of 
 an angry gun for kindling wood and we throw up our hats, 
 and at it the batteries went. A shell that does its duty has 
 thunder and a cloud at both ends of its flight. 
 
 —112— 
 
On the 25th of June we were resting one mile to the 
 rear of the front line, facing L,ittle Kenesaw. The 26th was 
 Sunday and seemed to be the quietest day we enjoyed since 
 we left Rome. Gen. Logan passed along in the afternoon. 
 Among the men who composed his staff was Captain Gor- 
 don lyoffland, of Cambridge, O., an old friend and school- 
 mate. He dismounted and we chatted away about home 
 and friends and bidding me good bye, said, "Old boy, this 
 may be the last time we may meet, for tomorrow morning 
 your division is to make a desperate charge on Little Kene- 
 saw. If successful, it will doubtless be the destruction of 
 Johnson's army. Good bye, and may you come out all 
 right." Col. Dan McCook had been a law partner of Gen. 
 Sherman and had been selected to lead the charge in the 
 center. As the Captain rode away, he turned and said, "Let 
 me hear from you when it is over." I do not think there 
 was a trace of anxiety as I sat down and wrote to friends at 
 home, without a hint of the coming morrow. It was not a 
 question of battle lost or won, of victory or defeat, but 
 something alone and beyond them all. Night came on and 
 we sat down with the boys, who with us had followed the old 
 flag almost two years, who on the coming morn were to go 
 where sheets of flame would baptize them and where plung- 
 ing shot would thin their ranks. 
 
 There was such a beautiful sunset that evening. The 
 trees and woods seemed touched and set on fire. I had 
 thought of the burning bush, but it had come back to me as 
 one of the loveliest pictures of memory. Jest and laughter 
 was heard from the groups gathered here and there to while 
 away the time, while nothing seemed to disturb the steady 
 stroke of an easy-going heart. 
 
 —113 — 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 BATTI^E OF KENESAW MOUNTAIN. 
 
 A A 7E were up at four the next morning with orders to 
 V V move at six, without knapsacks, but with forty 
 rounds in our cartridge boxes. Thus, before breakfast 
 every boy knew of the day's work before him. The hush 
 of the coming storm was in the air. As I opened that old 
 volume my mother gave me when I left home, I read, "A 
 thousand shall fall at thy side and ten thousand at thy right 
 hand, but it shall not come nigh thee," and commending my 
 life to God, felt an inspiration that followed me throughout 
 the whole day. 
 
 When soldiers get ready for battle they generally go 
 like men on business. The old blouse is good enough, the 
 old hat will answer. You may notice they may look to 
 their guns a little more critically; they tighten up their belts 
 a little and are ready. Officers seldom wore their finery in 
 the field. The torn bars, the clipped eagle, the dim star will 
 do, but it is not always so. I have known a soldier to make 
 a most careful toilet on the morning of battle. Sergeant 
 Michie, of Co. H, always put on his best uniform, as if he 
 were going home. Perhaps the chance of such a thing may 
 have drifted into his mind. At other times I have been sur- 
 prised at what men were thinking about who are going into 
 battle. Gen. Grant, at Orchard Knob, was a quiet gentle- 
 man in a snuff-colored coat, while Gen. Jimmy D. Morgan 
 was a twin brother to his orderly. He went into battle in a 
 shocking hat, while there was a glitter of buttons and stars 
 wherever Phil. Sheridan went, and that was in the thickest 
 
 —114— 
 
of the fight. "I want my men to know where I am" he 
 said with a smile. Nothing so inspires the rank and file as 
 faith in their leaders, and no men in that campaign had any 
 better than we had — a McCook, Davis, Thomas and 
 Sherman. Faith in such men, tones men up and makes 
 them braver and nobler every time they are tried. This 
 was preeminently true of our own brave Col. Dan. McCook, 
 who formed our brigade in line that morning. We had 
 heard his clear, shrill voice many a time as he led us from 
 the Ohio to that mountain base. When duty, hardship and 
 danger came in a cluster, he plucked it with a ready grasp, 
 saying, "come boys," and not "go." 
 
 At 8 o'clock we moved rapidly to position in rear of our 
 main works. A general attack all along the lines had been 
 ordered, as a diversion in favor of the main assault. The 
 second brigade of our division, Col. John G. Mitchell com- 
 manding, was on our right. Our brigade was formed in 
 column of regiments in the following order, 85th Illinois, 
 Col. C. J Dilworth, deployed as skirmishers; 125th Illinois. 
 Col. O. F. Harmon; 86th Illinois, Lieut. Col. A. L- Fahne- 
 stock; 22nd Indiana, Capt. W. H. Snodgrass; 52nd Ohio, 
 Lieut. Col. C. W. Clancy. 
 
 As they formed in line, the sun shining clear upon 
 them, the words of Heber's sweet ]old song came to me in 
 war's bold autograph, and 
 
 "You see them ontheir winding way, 
 About their ranks the sunbeams play." 
 
 Five regiments, not quite 1,800 men. Five pairs of flags, 
 that had rose and fell on the surges of battle, were carried in 
 the center of each battallion. The dyes of the dyer were 
 dim, but the death of those who fell in their defense had 
 made the tints sublime. Those old flags] were nothing but 
 silk, yet they had gone up the ladder of meaning, like the 
 angels in the vision of the patriarch. Thej^ had become col- 
 
 —115— 
 
JEHU PECK, CO. D, 
 
 —116— 
 
ors. Hardee's corps was in our front and left, Hood's corps 
 to our right. The rebel line was almost in the shape of a 
 fishhook, on what is now known as Cheatham's Hill or the 
 Dead Angle. The charge was made on Cheatham's division, 
 composed of Vaughn's, Maney's and Strahl's brigades. We 
 were to strike the circular bend of the works or the lower 
 end of the fish hook. 
 
 That beautiful morning was half gone when we were 
 told that all things were ready. The hostile army grimly 
 waited for our coming, as slowly we marched into the jaws 
 of death. Just as the batteries ceased firing, we dressed our 
 lines into column, and Col. Dan. McCook, standing in front 
 of the brigade, repeated from McCauley's poem in Horatius 
 the words : 
 
 "Then out spoke bold Horatius, the captain of the gate. 
 To all men of the earth cometh soon or late. 
 But how can man die nobler, when facing fearful odds, 
 For the ashes of his fathers, and the temple of his Gods." 
 
 It was fifty paces from McCook's to Morgan's line. We 
 moved promptly on signal, going at quick time, then double- 
 quick, on coming to the creek, which was marshy and slug- 
 gish, our lines was somewhat broken. 
 
 Firing began immediately. From the crest both mus- 
 ketry and artillery, but we pushed on capturing the line of 
 rifle pits, taking the men prisoners. The batteries opened 
 right and left, as we pushed on up the hill. It is dreadful 
 to think about. Grape and canister, shot and shell sowed 
 the ground with rugged iron and garnished it with the dead. 
 The first to fall was Sergeant John T. Fowler, of Co. B. As 
 he fell, his tongue protruded from his mouth, caused by a 
 contraction of the muscles of the throat. I longed to take 
 him in my arms and minister to his sufferings, but we were 
 to push the battle. The race of flags grew every moment 
 more terrible. Four color- bearers were either killed or 
 
 -117— 
 
wounded. I^inley H. Street, a brave boy, beloved by his 
 comrades, fell, pierced to death. Sergeant Wm. J. Bradfield 
 snatches the flag and is wounded in the strong right arm as 
 he leads the charging column. Poor boy, he goes back to 
 Nashville to die with the dread gangrene. David U. Mc- 
 Cullough of Co. E, seizes the old banner and is wounded 
 in the shoulder. Thus three of our color-bearers are shot 
 down. The line wavers like a great billow and up comes 
 the banner again. Now it is in the hands of James Lynne 
 of Co. C. He loses an arm and on we go. Sheets of flame 
 baptize us. Plunging shot tear away comrades on left and 
 right. It is no longer shoulder to shoulder, it is God for us 
 all. We are facing the steady fire of two thousand infanty, 
 pouring down upon our heads as if it were the old historic 
 curse from heaven. We wrestled with the mountain, but 
 our brave men are climbing steadily on — upward still. 
 Things are growing desperate. The enemy began to throw 
 stones upon our heads. They light the fuse and throw 
 hand grenades in our faces. One of these struck James 
 Sheets, of Co. E, tearing away all the flesh from his cheek. 
 
 They shout down upon us"Chickamauga." Our brave 
 Dan McCook was in the lead, when our front line had 
 reached the fortifications, only to find a barrier which was 
 calculated to make a weak man falter and a brave man 
 think. The works were fringed with pikes, sharpened pins 
 driven into logs, standing like a hay rack, pointing toward 
 your face. Four lines of these stood one behind the other, 
 so arranged that they overlapped each other. In a moment 
 the front line grasped the barrier of pikes, and carried them 
 endways, thus opening the way to the line of earth works. 
 
 Our brave Colonel urging his men on, was struck as he 
 said, "Come on boys, the day is won," as he reached the 
 earth work. He was shot about four inches below the collar 
 bone, in the right breast, falling outside of the fortifications. 
 
 -118— 
 
After the fall of Col. McCook, the voice of Captain Charles 
 Fellows of McCook's staff was heard, but his half finished, 
 "come on boys — we'll take"— was cut short, and brave 
 Charley fell dead only a few feet from the ditch. 
 
 Regiment after regiment breasted the storm as we came 
 upon the mountain, until all four of the regiments in front 
 of our line had tried and failed, and when we reached the 
 works, we were in the front line. Several colors were planted 
 in the loose earth at the foot of the ditch. We learned from a 
 member ot the ist Tennessee Infantry, that Capt. Beasley 
 of that regiment lost his life while attempting to grasp the 
 colors of the 52nd Ohio. Our regiment preserved a fair 
 allignment to the last, and was undoubtedly assisted in the 
 final stand by many members of other regiments. No 
 braver and better behaved men ever attempted to storm an 
 impregnable fortress than the Illinois and Indiana boys 
 who were slaughtered in that terrible assault. 
 
 Col. Harmon, of the 1 25th, took command. He gave the 
 command "Forward" and fell into the arms of his men, 
 pierced throught the heart. Deadly volleys mowed us down. 
 The ground was strewn with the dead and dying. The 
 hving crouched behind the dead comrades. Col. Dilworth 
 of the 85th 111., was now the ranking officer, and no sooner 
 in command than he was wounded, and the command was 
 assumed by Lieut. Col. J. W. Langhley, of 125th 111. 
 
 The order had been given to fall back twenty paces and 
 thus straighten our lines which had swung to the right 
 and rear, owing to the galling fire from the lower depres- 
 sion of the enemy's line inthat direction. When the order 
 was given to re-form our lines we had lam down right under 
 the enemy's works, and everyone of us would have been 
 killed or captured, had it not been that the line formed 
 twenty-five yards below us with the advantageof the depres- 
 sion of the slope. They, by firing over our heads, soon had 
 
 -119— 
 
control of the line in our immediate front. Probably one- 
 half of our regiment that were unharmed, lay within twelve 
 feet of the earth works and not in a position to load and fire. 
 One by one our men crawled back to the new line below 
 while many of us, with the dead and seriously wounded, 
 lay near the works. Three of my comrades were struck just 
 as our men lay down. Joseph Hanlon lay dead on my right. 
 Isaac Winters, who was shot in the temple, but living, lay 
 within my reach on the left. Frank Grace of Co. D, lay 
 dead just below me, and Joseph E. Watkins of the 22nd 
 Indiana Regiment, rose to start for the line below, when he 
 fell dead across my feet, as I lay near a cbestnut stump, 
 within ten feet of the earth works. Col. Clancy was on 
 my left, and in an opportune moment, he started for the line 
 below, catching his foot in the belt of a sword, plunged into 
 our line below, taking the sword with him. It proved to be 
 Capt. S. M. Neighbor's, he, having been seriously wounded a 
 short time before, stripped off his sword and belt and stag- 
 gered to the rear. 
 
 While lying here with a dead soldier across my feet^ 
 who could describe the sensations of the forty minutes that 
 passed. To run the gauntlet might be death, to lie there, a 
 movement of the body would draw the fire of the enemy on 
 the "Dead Angle" to our right. The comrade shot in the 
 temple sat up and began to talk in delirium, which attracted 
 the enemy. He plead for water. I pushed my canteen to- 
 ward him and he reached out but failed to get it. 
 
 Sergeant John W. Baltzly, of Co. D, was lying with- 
 in the ditch and was asked to come over the works. He 
 hesitated, but finding they could get range of his position 
 from the right, the sergeant, red-headed and hatless, went 
 over to spend six months in Andersonville. 
 
 Ikying to my right and near the breast works, was New- 
 ton H. Bostwick, of Co. I, a mere lad of seventeen years. 
 
 —120— 
 
He wore a cockade hat and white acorn, the badge of our 
 division. Bostwick had been severely wounded in the 
 shoulder, and was ordered to come over the works, which he 
 attempted to do, to save his life. The Sergeant Major of 
 the I St Tennessee reached over the head log to help the boy. 
 A bullet from our line below missed the rebel and buried it- 
 self in the neck of the already wounded boy. The officer 
 pulled him over the works and sent him to the rear, visiting 
 him after the battle was over. He did not permit him to be 
 sent south until he began to recover, and later in the war 
 furnished him with some delicacies at Macon, Georgia. The 
 brave, boyish soldier was filled with gratitude and giving 
 his name and the address of his parents to the officer, they 
 parted. Young Bostwick was finally exchanged November 
 24, 1864, and lives in Chardon, Ohio, a leading attorney of 
 Geauga county. In 1880 he wrote the following letter to 
 the Nashville American : 
 
 "To the Sergeant Major of the Rock City Guards, C. S. 
 A., or any other Confederate soldier who was at the battle 
 of Kenesaw Mountain, June 27, 1864, Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 Chardon, O., March 13, 1880. 
 
 Dear Sir: — I should like to know something of you. 
 You treated me well while I was a prisoner with you on the 
 field that day (June 27) and I have ever since felt a friendly 
 feeling toward you. I am the boy with the cocked hat and 
 white acorn, who fell inside your works that warm morning 
 in June. You fought like the devil and made a hot place 
 for us to come through, but it always seemed to me that if 
 we could have held out a little longer the fortunes of the day 
 might have changed. Please write to me, I want to know 
 what has become of you boys, and oblige, 
 
 N. H. Bostwick 
 
 The letter was turned over to James A. Jennings, of 
 the ist Tennessee, who replied as follows: 
 
 —121— 
 
NashviIvLE, Tenn., March 17th, 1880. 
 Mr. N. H. Bostwick. 
 
 Dear Sir: — Your interesting favor of the [3th inst. 
 was received today. We right well remember the 27th of 
 June, 1864. I was Sergeant Major and well remember the 
 boy with the cocked hat and acorn — how you were shot 
 through the neck as your men shot at me, and that you was 
 a brave boy. I lost your address. I was captured in 
 Hood's last fight and remained a prisoner until the cruel 
 war was over. We lost but few men at Kenesaw, as we 
 were well fortified. The slaughter on your side was terrible. 
 We were almost out of ammunition, I think if you had put 
 another fresh line in you would have got us, but we had or- 
 ders to hold that place, and yoii know what kind of boys we 
 were. Out of 150 Rock City Guards only about 50 are left. 
 They were all brave and did their duty. I think I can say 
 the same for the 52nd Ohio. We would be glad if you 
 could pay us a visit. We will make it pleasant for you. 
 The war is over and we must be the best of friends. In 
 union there is strength. Yours truly, 
 
 James A. Jennings. 
 
 We took our chance for the line below and landed safe- 
 ly. A portion of the new line kept up the firing. The re- 
 mainder, lying on their faces, working with bayonet and tin 
 cup, managed to throw up a light breastwork, sufficient to 
 protect their prostrate bodies. This work was accomplished 
 while under a severe fire from our right in the angle of the 
 enemy's works. The distance in the charge was made in 
 about forty minutes, but it was two o'clock when we had 
 sufficient protection to feel safe. 
 
 Our loss in the 52nd was 34 killed and 102 wounded 
 and three prisoners, total 139. The loss in the brigade was 
 419. The other four regiments, in the aggregate, losing 280 
 men; the 52nd, 139, almost one-third of the total loss. Of 
 those who fell, 34 were killed, 11 died of wounds received 
 in the charge. 
 
 —122— 
 
Our gallant Colonel was missed, so young — not yet 
 twenty- nine, so courteous, so modest, so brave. With the 
 frankness and simplicity of a boy, be united the dash of a 
 Marion and the wisdom of a veteran. How he led us, like 
 the tenth wave of the sea, right into that storm of splintery 
 fire and shotted shell. He fell, but lived long enough to be 
 taken to his home in Steubenville, O., where he died, July 
 17th, and was buried in Spring Grove cemetery in Cincin- 
 nati, beside his father and four brothers, who gave their lives 
 for the old flag. 
 
 On the evening of his death his brother, Col. George 
 W. McCook, then colonel of the 157th O. N. G., on duty at 
 Ft. Delaware, while standing before his regiment on dress 
 parade, received a telegram, opened it, and with tears 
 streaming down his face, said to the adjutant, "Take the 
 regiment to their quarters," and wept aloud for a brother 
 he loved so well. 
 
 On the 1 6th of July, the day before our beloved Col- 
 onel's death, Gen. Sherman received a commission from Sec- 
 retary Stanton, for the death-stricken hero, as Brigadier 
 General. When the message was read to him, on his bed of 
 suffering, he said, "The promotion is too late now, return 
 my compliments, saying 'I decline the honor'," and every 
 man in the brigade honored his refusal of that which he had 
 earned more than a year before. 
 
 I would love to speak personally of every man in the 
 regiment, for every one of them did their duty. No troops 
 in the late war bore themselves with greater honor than 
 they. Gen. Davis sent us word that nothing could be done 
 until nightfall, in getting tools to fortify, as our men would 
 be shot down in crossing the valley of Noyes creek. But 
 we were not to be baffled. One-half of the men worked while 
 the rest hugged the ground and shot at every Johnny reb, 
 who dared show his head. 
 
 —123— 
 
The whole brigade was massed in two lines. One line 
 in the front being one hundred and one feet from the head 
 log of Johnson's works. After dark came on the dead and 
 wounded close to our line were collected. Some of the 
 wounded succeeded in rolling down to us. This was the 
 case with Capt. Joseph Majors, of the 86th, who was struck 
 with a rock during the charge and came to consciousness in 
 the night, and instead of walking came rolling into our lines. 
 
 Night came, we were glad of it. Our canteens were 
 empty, so were our cartridge boxes The enemy fired a 
 volley of musketry, which no doui)t was to prevent our 
 working on the fortifications. An hour after dark they 
 rolled cotton balls in turpentine and threw them over, set- 
 ting the dry twigs and leaves on fire, burning and charring 
 our dead. The cries of some, who were wounded and not 
 dead, was horrifying to us. 
 
 -124— 
 
JOHN MOORE, CO. K. 
 
 —125- 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 KENESAW EVACTUATION, BATTLE OF PEACH TREE CREEK 
 AND JONESBORO. 
 
 THE 28th found US with our armor on and worthy and 
 well qualified to hold what advantage we had secured 
 the day before. They opened on us with their batteries, but 
 were silenced by our guns in the rear. 
 
 During supper, a command from the other side was 
 heard, clear and distinct, "make ready, take aim, fire !" over 
 came stones and clubs, pick handles and frying pans, and 
 woe be to the man who was unprotected. Many on our line 
 were struck and disabled. Capt. Mansfield was crippled for 
 life. Serg. Major, Wm. Freeman was struck with a pick 
 handle, went to the hospital and never returned for duty. 
 
 Wednesday morning a truce lasting from 9 a. m. to 4 
 p. m. was arranged to bury the dead. Unarmed guards, de- 
 tailed from each side, were stationed in two lines, facing 
 outward, to prevent the passing of other than the burial 
 party, which worked between. A general exchange of news 
 papers, coffee and tobacco while a jolly good feeling abound- 
 ed everywhere. Our dead had lain upon the ground forty 
 hours and the smell was terrible. Thirty-seven of our bri- 
 gade were buried in the four hours in which we worked. It 
 was my good fortune to be on the detail and to be able to 
 identify all who belonged to the 52nd Ohio. We dug the 
 graves, right where they lay, covering them over and mark- 
 ing the spot with the name and regiment. Our men sat up- 
 on the head logs and crowds of armed men from the com- 
 mands near by thronged our works. The rebel line was 
 
 —126— 
 
crowned with sightseers of high and low rank. Generals 
 from both sides circulated freely between the lines, although 
 this was in direct violation of the terms of the truce. Hind- 
 man, Cheatham and Maney were prominent. I was particu- 
 larly interested in Pat Cleburne, who afterwards lost his life 
 at Franklin. He was tall, with a genial face and a good 
 fighter, as we had a chance to know. We sat down and 
 chatted with the detail and enjoyed ourselves like friends. 
 A challenge came from a rebel who wanted to wrestle with 
 any yank in the crowd. It was accepted by one of our 
 boys, a recruit. He threw the Johnny, amid the shouts of 
 our boys. The signal gun was fired and we were pecking 
 away at each other in five minutes. 
 
 "Necessity is the mother of invention." A comrade of 
 the 125th Illinois invented a life preserver and at the same 
 time a rebel killer. A small piece of looking glass, two and 
 a half inches square, framed with zinc, with a wire stem by 
 which it was attached to the stock of our Springfield rifles, 
 so arranged that we could lie down in the trench, the rifle 
 resting on the breast works, pointing toward the rebel head, 
 log, that you could look through the sights and with your ham- 
 mer pulled back, pick off a rebel without exposing the body. 
 Hundreds of these were made and used to the astonishment 
 of the men opposite to us. A large chestnut tree, hollow at 
 the lower side, was used as a fortress, from which our men 
 watched through the glass for a shot. An orderly came 
 over one morning from Gen. Davis's headquarters, anxious 
 to try the new invention. He entered the hollow tree, wait- 
 ing for an opportunity. Becoming excited, he exposed the 
 side of his head, when a sharp shooter in the "Angle" put 
 a bullet hole through his ear and the poor boy went down 
 the hill like an army in full retreat. 
 
 A daring feat was performed in broad dayHght, on the 
 afternoon of the 30th. A well dressed man in federal uni- 
 
 —127— 
 
form, new and clean, a mess pan in one hand, a small bucket 
 steaming with hot coffee in the other, when the outpost where 
 three comrades were stationed half way between our works 
 and the enemj^'s and were protected by the double trunk of a 
 large tree, where they watched the movement of the men 
 in the rebel trenches, was reached the stranger passed 
 to one side and dropping his pan and coffee, with several 
 bounds disappeared over the enemy's parapet. No one had 
 time to realize that he was a spy — so rapidly did he com- 
 plete his perilous journey. "The Memphis Appeal," then 
 published in Atlanta, the next morning, published an ac- 
 count or the daring feat The spy, no doubt, furnished the 
 information that McCook's brigade hatl such close proximity 
 to Cheatham's line that they had already tunneled under his 
 breast works, and that they had experimented as to the fact 
 reported, by placing a drum in the trench occupied by their 
 men, by laying marbles on a drumhead, they distinctly 
 noticed the rattle of the inarhlts at every stroke of the pick, 
 made by the sappers and niint-rs in the tunnel beneath. That 
 night they opened on us with a terrible musketry fire, which 
 lasted an hour or more. 
 
 We were in close quarters almost six days. During 
 this time we shot away probal>ly two hundred rounds of am- 
 munition to the man. When we could not see a Johnny to 
 shoot at we fired away at the flag staff the rebels put up on 
 ''their breast works. Several times it was shot off, and the 
 emblem of treason fell to the ground. Wm. F. Carson, of 
 Co. B, was killed the morning of the 22nd of July. Poor 
 Will was absent minded, he raised his head above the head log 
 and was killed. Thirty-four of the regiment were killed or 
 wounded on the line in the six days after the charge. The 
 First, Fourth, Sixth, Ninth, Nineteenth and Twenty-seventh 
 Tennessee regiments, veterans on the rebel side, were in the 
 
 —128— 
 
works opposite to us. They had the best protection that could 
 be constructed, while our brigade confronted them in their 
 works, which were seven feet high and twelve feet thick. 
 Practically no part of our assaulting column was captured 
 and one brigade lay within a stone's throw of the works un- 
 til the enemy retreated. About one o'clock, Sunday morning, 
 a voice from the rebel works shouted, "Don't shoot down 
 there, they are done gone from here." We asked him to 
 come over and a detail to reconnoiter was made. They were 
 gone from our front. The 23rd Corps cautiously advanced, 
 while we lay in our works until morning. 
 
 It was Sunday. At daybreak our band played "Old 
 Hundred," while we sang "Praise God from whom all bless- 
 ings flow." It was joy to our boys as we had scarcely 
 looked up for .'^ix days from our dangerous position. Mari- 
 etta was ours, and our forces were pushing Johnson toward 
 Atlanta. 
 
 We rested a few days at the Chattahoochie. Atlanta 
 was only eight miles distant, almost in hearing of Sherman's 
 drum beat As we crossed the river, we asked an old slave 
 tottering with age, how long he had been there. He said, 
 "Oh massa. I'se been heah ever since I was born, ever since 
 dis river was a little bit of a stream." 
 
 Johnson was relieved and Hood was now in command, 
 and the people would tell us that Sherman would have to 
 fight now, there would be no more driving the Southern 
 army "end ways." 
 
 The iron heart of Sherman's column began to beat as 
 his batteries thundered at the gates of Atlanta. Up to July 
 19th, there had been no battle since we left Kenesaw, only 
 skirmishing and dashes of cavalry and soundings of the lines 
 on our front. 
 
 Early in the morning of the 19th, we pushed our 
 skirmishers across Peach Tree Creek, crossing on a log 
 
 —129— 
 
twenty-eight feet from bank to bank. The water was about 
 eight feet deep and could not be forded. While we were 
 laughing at an unlucky fellow in Co. H, who fell from the 
 foot- log, the rebels opened fire on us from their skirmish 
 line. As we reached the top of the hill, the enemy poured 
 a galling fire on our right flank, and turned our left by a 
 heavy reinforcement. The gStli Ohio had crossed above us, 
 and came to our rescue, the enemy retreating into a dense 
 pine thicket. The left wing of our regiment, with Col. 
 Clancy, was deployed in front and pushed down into the 
 pines and lay down. The regiment worked like beavers 
 completing a barricade of rails, behind which they lay. The 
 advance sentinels came rushing back, shouting, "They are 
 charging in front, four lines deep, with fixed bayonets." 
 We must get out to let our men in the works open fire. 
 " 'Twas madness to defer." It was run the gauntlet or be 
 taken to Andersonville prison, or death. They were up- 
 on us. The Colonel with thirteen men went to prison, the 
 rest filed to the right, down a small ravine, and started for 
 liberty or death. It was the devil's own corner. We were 
 but half way from the starting point to the brow of the hill 
 when the enemy poured a deadly volley into our ranks. 
 Here twenty-nine of the one hundred and fifty-four fell, 
 dead or wounded, knelt at the shrine were those that were 
 dead, and never rose from worshiping. Over the works we 
 went, to find the whole line with fixed bayonets, expecting 
 a hand to hand conflict. 
 
 Such firing as those comrades did do, as they cheered those 
 who had escaped death. The rebel line falters — it stopped — 
 it fled. Our loss was heavy, twenty-one killed and forty-seven 
 wounded. Five of Co. K lost their lives. Lieut. James H. 
 Donaldson, Samuel M, Hanlin,Eli Gordon, Elias Dimmit, dead, 
 and John F. Rightly, mortally wounded. L,ieut. Donaldson 
 had drawn a new patent leather haversack that morning, re- 
 
 —130— 
 
marking as he put it on, "I will be a shining mark for the 
 Johnnies." He was shot through the haversack. Hanlon 
 was shot through the thigh, severing an artery. Taking off 
 his suspenders, he tied a knot in one of them, placing the 
 knot over the artery, stopped the flow of blood. When dark 
 came, we crawled to where he lay and found him dying from 
 exhaustion. Many strange things occurred that morning. 
 Elias Dimmit, of our company, said to me, "I will be killed 
 today, send my Bible and pictures to mother." He fell in 
 the recall of our skirmishers, shot through the knapsack, 
 through eight folds of a rubber blanket and twenty-nine 
 leaves of writing paper, out through his heart. 
 
 It was a hand-to-hand conflict on the right of the regi- 
 ment. Among those who fell, there was none braver than 
 Captain Schneider. His home was in Brooklyn Village, now 
 a part of Cleveland. At the time of his death he was twen- 
 ty-eight and engaged to an excellent young lady of Cleve- 
 land. He received a letter from her the evening before the 
 battle, urging him to resign and come home, as she had fears 
 he would be killed in the next battle. The Captain said to 
 Major Holmes, "I have a dread presentiment of it myself, 
 but my country is in peril. If I fall, 
 
 "Let me fall in the van 
 Of the conquering host." 
 
 The Captain had been jealous over Major Holmes's pro- 
 motion. It had wounded him. He had treated the Major 
 with suspicion, but the evening before the battle he freely 
 opened his heart to him, and said, "I am your friend and 
 want to confess that my suspicions were all unfounded. I 
 am your truest friend." When he was found his revolver 
 was in his hand with one barrell empty. A rebel Major lay 
 dead within a few feet of him. The hole in the Major's 
 head was made by a 32 calibre, the same as the Captain's re- 
 volver, and the Major's bullet had struck the Captain in the 
 temple. Both were dead. 
 
 —131— 
 
Frank Miser, of Co. G, fell, mortally wounded. He 
 was left on the battle field for a few hours, when his com- 
 rades returned he was dead. In his hand was a discharge 
 paper from a hospital in Cincinnati, on the back of it was 
 written these words, with a pencil, "Dear father and moth- 
 er, I am mortally wounded. I die like a soldier, and hope 
 to meet you all in heaven." B. F. Miser. 
 
 On the eve of the battle, we have heard such talk as 
 this, "I expect to be in the hottest place in the field tomor- 
 row, but do you know the bullet is not run that will kill 
 me," and the brave boy dropped off into a child-like sleep, 
 while I lay awake and was troubled. A little after four the 
 next afternoon, a bursting shell carried away the "pound of 
 flesh" that Shylock craved, and again he fell asleep, only to 
 awake at the call of God's trumpet. 
 
 The next morning we went to the hospital lo st-e how 
 our boys were getting along It was a beautiful ridge ; tall, 
 slim oaks sprinkle it, and beneath them stand the tents of 
 the field hos:>ital. Within them lie the men, who charged 
 the hill yesterday, marred with wounds and wasted with 
 pain, parched with fever, weaiily turning, wearily waiting 
 to take up the blessed march. They are to go North. It is 
 Chattanooga, it is Nashville, it is home and it is heaven, but 
 they are hopeful and heartful for they will go "bye and bye." 
 We returned to the hillside. Near our lines a grave is be- 
 ing dug. Four boys in their brown blankets, four labels, 
 with four names on four still breasts. The fonr bodies were 
 lifted and borne away to that wide open grave on the hill- 
 side and one after another lowered into the grave. As we 
 looked for the last time into their faces, we silently said, 
 "Lord, if thou had'st been here my brother had not died," 
 and then we prayed a soldier's prayer for the flag, and those 
 that bear it, and for the four mothers, yonder at home, whose 
 hearts will yearn, but to see them uo more. After filling the 
 
 —132— 
 
grave and setting up the tablet, on which was written the 
 names, Lieut. James H. Donaldson, Samuel M. Hanlon, Kli 
 Gordon and EHas Dimmit, we turned away thinking, "So 
 dies in human hearts the thought of death," for a bird in a 
 tree near by sang as if nothing had happened, and the sun 
 shone on as if there were no clouds in the world save those 
 that float in the heavens. 
 
 Hood furiously assaulted our left on the 22nd, where 
 the brave McPherson fell with many of his brave men, and 
 failing to break our lines, withdrew within his fortifications. 
 As we were on the front line, the regiment suffered more or 
 less every day. One morning Lieut. Adam Knecht and six 
 men of Co. A were wounded and one killed. Courtman, 
 Armstrong and Flynn, of Co. H, and Otho Linton, of Co. E, 
 were also killed. One morning a message came by "grape 
 vine" that we were ordered to Ohio to enforce the draft. The 
 boys began to discuss the probability of a winter campaign 
 among the rebels of the North. Our first move was to be 
 against Fort Fizzle in Holmes county, and then with banners 
 flying, we were to put down the rebellion at Hoskinsville in 
 Noble county. But Burns reminded us that "The best laid 
 schemes o' mice and men, gang aft 'agley". So we kept peg- 
 ging away at Hood's army, with faith in God and old Billy 
 Sherman, knowing that the end was nigh. 
 
 Sunday evening came. It was sultry and all was quiet 
 on the picket lines. Not a shot was fired. When the band, 
 just to our rear, played, "The Star Spangled Banner," a 
 band on the rebel line played, "The Bonny Blue Flag," and 
 the concert began. We played "Hail Columbia," and were 
 answered by "Dixie." "Rally 'Round the Flag" was fol- 
 lowed by "Palmetto State." Then came "John Brown's 
 Body," which brought out "My Old Kentucky Home." 
 When both bands struck up with "Home, Sweet Home," 
 and not a shot was fired all the evening. 
 
 —133- 
 
Leaving the 20th Corps to take care of Atlanta, we 
 moved in the direction of Macon, destroying the railroad as 
 we went, reaching Jonesboro, September ist. That battle 
 was fought principally by Thomas's corps. Our division 
 was most fortunate in regard to position. The battle really 
 was fought by massing our artillery in such a position as to 
 rake the trenches of the enemy. We formed in a ravine 
 sloping to the west, and charged through a field of standing 
 corn. Capt. Hutchinson pushed out the skirmish line, while 
 we followed up to the works. The column on our left seemed 
 to merge into our line, over the breast works and down into 
 the trenches, up to the battery on the eminence above, we 
 went. They had no time to spike the guns. We turned 
 them on the retreating foe to the right Our capture con- 
 sisted of sixteen guns, part of which had been taken from 
 McPherson's men on the 22nd of July, and thirteen hundred 
 prisoners, a whole Texas brigade. One of the Texas rang- 
 ers refused to surrender, and had raised his gun to shoot an 
 oflScer of the 86th Illinois, when a yankee felled him with a 
 stroke of his empty musket, and saved the officer's life. 
 The loss in our regiment was light, five killed, Henry Bar- 
 gar and Robert N. Mercer, Co. B; Alfred Brister, Co. C; 
 James W. Sheets, Co. E, and J. B. McCarrol, Co. G. There 
 were nineteen wounded. Major Holmes was slightly 
 wounded in the knee, but was in the saddle in a few days. 
 James W. Sheets, who had been fearfully torn by a 
 hand shell, at Kenesaw, and had returned the day before the 
 battle. He was a brave soldier, having followed the retreat- 
 ing rebels, was shot while between the lines, behind a tree. 
 
 The 17th New York, of the ist Division, suffered in the 
 the charge. They wore red turban caps, which made an ex- 
 cellent mark for the enemy. The enemy lost heavily. Over 
 six hundred of their dead were buried the next day. This 
 battle settled the fate of Atlanta. That night, dispirited 
 
 —184— 
 
and defeated, the city was evacuated. They destroyed their 
 surplus ammunition, loading it on cars and running them 
 outside of the city, setting fire to them. It sounded like a 
 terrific bombardment to us. The midnight glow of burning 
 cotton and supplies could be seen by us, as it lighted Hood, 
 fleeing with his army toward Macon. 
 
 "Atlanta is ours— their own Gate City, and fairly 
 won," said Sherman, and his great campaign was ended. 
 
 For grandeur of design, depth and skill of combination, 
 it stands unrivalled in militaty history. Now we are to rest 
 awhile. We moved toward Atlanta the morning of the 4th, 
 guarding 1600 prisoners, mostly Texas troops. They were 
 not typical southerners. Many of them were from the north, 
 but they declared "they would^die in the last ditch," and 
 never give up. 
 
 Col. "Bill' ' Thompson, of the 8th Texas, was a fine look- 
 ing fellow,with a genial face, and in his capture he had exhi- 
 bited a reckless bravery. We found him at one of the de- 
 serted guns with his coat off, loading the gun with grape 
 shot. He asked us for Muskingum county boys, and we 
 learned that he was a son of James Thompson, of Adamsville, 
 that county, and that we had known him before he went 
 south. He was an unreconstructed rebel, declaring he was 
 in the rebel army to stay until the south had won. 
 
 We arrived at Atlanta, glad to be unmolested by sounds 
 of war, or visions of blood and death. We had our first dress 
 parade in four months, the next evening after our arrival. 
 
 "All present or accounted for," said the orderly ser- 
 geants. More were to be accounted for than were present. 
 My own company started out May 6th, with 63 men and 
 officers, and we stacked seventeen guns when we arrived in 
 Atlanta, Sept. 4th, the company commanded by Sergeant K 
 Tappan Hamlon, who died in April, 1900, at Hebron, Ne- 
 braska, ticketed all the way through. 
 
 —136— 
 
Our losses in the one hundred and twenty days' fighting, 
 and two hundred and fifty miles marching, including the 
 shifting of troops from one end of the line to the other, was, 
 according to Surgeon Henry M. Duff's memorandum, com- 
 missioned officers killed, 4; wounded, 13; enHsted men, 54; 
 wounded 169. Four oflficers and forty men died of wounds, 
 total 102 killed or died of wounds and 138 wounded. From 
 a careful search of the records and correspondence there were 
 29 men wounded, not reported, mostly slight wounds, not 
 found in the list reported by the surgeon. 
 
 Your historian was wounded August 17th, in front of 
 Atlanta, and was by mistake taken to ist Division hospital, 
 after night, and thus failed to be reported by our surgeon in 
 his private memoranda. 
 
 Our loss was 102 killed or died of wounds; 167 wounded 
 and recovered, and twenty captured, total 289. 
 
 —136— 
 
CAPT. P, C. SCHNEIDER, CO, I. 
 
 — 137— 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 RESTING IN ATLANTA AND FOREST'S RAID. 
 
 WE are now in Atlanta, which had, at the breaking out 
 of the war, a population of ten thousand. It was 
 the county seat of Fulton county, and now the capitol of the 
 state. The city is about eleven hundred feet above sea level, 
 and laid out in the form of a circle, the diameter, at the time 
 we entered, being two miles. We are here for rest, but 
 there was no rest for us. 
 
 We dug a well fifty seven feet deep and found splendid 
 water. We were ordered to have two roll calls every day, 
 and the orderly could be heard, going up and down the com- 
 pany street, in the morning, singing to the tune of the rev- 
 eille, "I can't get them up, I can't get them up, I can't get 
 them up in the morning!" and was compelled to abandon the 
 task. 
 
 A lively cricket of a newspaper appeared, in place of the 
 "Memphis Avalanche," that had moved with the rebel host. 
 With the daily came the newsboy, who, a week before, had 
 been curled up in a store box in Cincinnatti. The same 
 shrewd, sharp urchin that jumps into his clothes, and runs 
 out into the world, with a shell on his back like a quail, or 
 resembled a shell bark hickory nut, more cover than kernel. 
 The morning air rang with "Here's your mornin' paper." 
 
 We drank of the well and waited for the good news by 
 mail from God's country. It came. Poor old John Morgan 
 had been killed by Gillam's men. What a tragic death. 
 Then Sheridan's ride up the Shenandoah valley was an- 
 nounced, and three cheers and a tiger for "Phil and his 
 
 ' ' Black-charger. ' ' 
 
 - 138— 
 
How we mqde the old camp ring, when Col. Clancy and 
 the boys captured at Peach Tree came in, and the regiment 
 began to look like itself again. Only eight officers were 
 present for duty up to this time, namely. Holmes, Brice, 
 Rothacker, Hutchinson, Armstrong, Summers, James and 
 Duff. 
 
 We left Atlanta by train to intercept Forest, who was 
 raiding in Tennessee. We arrived at Chattanooga once more, 
 and look upon things that are familiar. As the sun rose, we 
 thought before us are the monuments of deeds that shall out- 
 last the house of the grave maker. Almost a year before, 
 the curtains of heaven were lifted, and God thundered at the 
 battlements of the enemy of liberty, and they crumbled. 
 Now, ranks of corn had ripened along these acres, and we said 
 "How swift the plough share follows the sword." Think 
 of it! Where, last November, we saw Hooker move up to 
 battle in the clouds, with his stout and steady legions, now 
 the farmer was gathering up along the base of that moun- 
 tain his bountiful crop of potatoes. How ugly the scrawl of 
 war's wild fingers has marred this beautiful world of ours. 
 Yet we forget its deadly work. As we passed down the 
 Tennessee we saw the old time flowers growing, like they 
 used to do in my mother's garden. The sun flowers and 
 the holly-hock, where the little negroes used to bag many a 
 bee to hear "its small and mellow horn." So homelike and 
 sheltered by those valleys weie the houses that we 
 forgot we knew the time that death lurked in every foot- 
 step. We pursued our journey to Shoal's creek, six miles 
 from Florence, and found that Forest had crossed the river 
 going south. After resting two days we turned our faces 
 backwards, bound, as we supposed, for Atlanta again 
 
 Taking the train at Athens, we landed in Chattanooga 
 Oct. 14, to find great excitement over the report that Hood was 
 marching on the place, while we could hear nothing of Sher- 
 
 —139— 
 
man. We pushed right on, passing the old Chickamauga 
 battle field, through I^afayette and Alpine to Gaylesville, Ala- 
 bama, five miles from the Coosa river. Sherman and the 
 whole army seemed to be there. Hood had gone "where the 
 woodbine twineth." 
 
 Atlanta was safe and we were to take a few days' rest. 
 Sherman had decided to send the 4th and 23rd corps to 
 watch Hood, and Thomas went back to Nashville to organ- 
 ize an army and drive him to the Gulf, while the rest of 
 "uncle Billy's" boys turned their faces towards Atlanta. 
 
 At Kingston the paymaster gave us eight month's dues, 
 and we sent Capt. Rothacker with a guard to Chattanooga to 
 express the money home, Company E sending twenty-seven 
 hundred dollars. Many of the boys lost the whole of their 
 hard earned wages around the faro banks and chuck-luck 
 boards. Many arrests were made by Sherman's provost 
 guard, while three officers lost their shoulder straps for gam- 
 bling with the men. 
 
 November 8th was Presidential election day. We were 
 on the march, but were halted by the way and proceeded to 
 cast our ballots, either for Abraham Lincoln or Geo. B. Mc- 
 Clellan. Hutchinson, Grimes and Lane were the Judges, 
 and we deposited our ballots by the roadside. The 52nd 
 gave Lincoln 182 and McClellan 32, while the gSth Ohio 
 gave Lincoln 212 and McClellan 17. Lincoln was elected, 
 having 212 electoral votes to McClellan's 21, for the 2nd 
 term. Allowing 100 men to the regiment, that were too 
 young to vote, this would give the strength of the regiment 
 at 325 men. 
 
 Everything seemed to be going towards Atlanta, yet 
 we could not see why we were destroying the railroad, our 
 source of supplies, but we pondered these things in our 
 hearts until we arrived at Atlanta. 
 
 —140— 
 
Orders came for each man to draw two pairs of shoes 
 and to be ready for a long march, having a complete sol- 
 dier's outfit, which consisted of a haversack, canteen, woolen 
 blanket, rubber blanket, one-half of a "dog tent," a knap- 
 sack and an extra shirt, besides what he had on his back. 
 Sherman had rapidly concentrated here 60,000, thoroughly 
 organized and equipped men. Forty-one men had come up 
 from the hospitals to swell our ranks, and we were ready. 
 
 Everything of use to the rebel army had been destroyed 
 at Rome, and Atlanta. Sherman wrote to Admiral Porter 
 to be on the lookout for him about Christmas, and to his 
 wife, "This is my last letter, you will hear from me through 
 rebel sources." The army consisted of four corps and two 
 wings, the right and left. Gen. Howard commanding the 
 right and Slocuni the left wing, with two divisions of cav- 
 alry commanded by Gen. Kilpatrick. The columns were to 
 start regularly at six o'clock every morning for an average 
 march of fifteen miles a day. 
 
 When Sherman made public this daring movement, 
 both North and South were astonished. The rebel editors 
 proclaimed the destruction of Sherman's army. In Europe 
 it created equal astonishment. The Richmond papers 
 scornfully said that his march would lead him to the para- 
 dise of fools. 
 
 Sherman knew what he was doing. He cut loose 
 from his moorings, and drifted boldly out to sea. By the 
 road Slocum was to take it was 170 miles to Augusta. By 
 that on which Howard marched it was 291 to Savannah. 
 His army train consisted of about four thousand vehicles of 
 all kinds, which if stretched in a single line, would have ex- 
 tended foity miles. We carried forty days' rations of hard 
 tack, coffee, sugar and salt. The rest we expected to find 
 laying around loose as we journeyed. Very few seemed to 
 dread the trip. We had something new every day. Nerve 
 
 —141— 
 
Centers were touched, our march was to send a thrill through 
 the entire army of the Union and make the loyal North proud 
 of the army of the west as they went "Marching through 
 Georgia," sweeping like an avalanche to the sea. We be- 
 gan to speculate as to how we would live off the country, 
 and too, we thought how our friends would pity us as they 
 heard we were living on alligators, with pipe clay and stump 
 water for a change. We did not expect to see the delicate 
 bones of many quail about the camp, or hear of oysters on 
 the half-shell, but we grew eloquent wheti we thought of 
 the land, flowing with soighum and sweet potatoes. While 
 thus discussing the march, our band struck up "When the 
 Cruel War is Over," and then played, 'Oh, Take Your Time 
 Miss Lucy." Then we laid us down in a soldiers' bed to 
 dream of yams and other good things. 
 
 —142— 
 
CAPT. H. O. MANSFIELD, CO. E. 
 
 —143— 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA. 
 
 ON Wednesday morning, November i6th, our splendid 
 army of brawny western men, stripped like an 
 athlete for the race, set its face toward the Atlantic ocean, 
 with banners streaming and bands playing, we bade farewell 
 to the smoldering ruins of Atlanta. 
 
 It was two in the afternoon when Baldwin put the bugle 
 to his lips and struck up, "John Brown's Body," the full 
 band made the earth tremble, while, with a sort of a "don't 
 care" swing we marched out, the last regiment, the rear 
 guard, in charge of our division wagon train. Water was 
 very scarce, and we were late in going into camp, having 
 made eleven miles. 
 
 The second day's march led us along the Georgia rail- 
 road which we effectually destroyed, Passing through 
 Ivythonia the next day, we came to one of the greatest nat- 
 ural curiosities in the state. An isolated stone mountain, 
 formed of one solid rock, nearly twenty-two hundred feet 
 high and seven miles around its base. From the summit 
 there is a fine view of the surrounding country. A dead 
 Union soldier was found near here with this notice pinned 
 upon his breast, "Death to all foragers," and while we 
 looked into his face, the inward monitor whispered, 
 "cruel war." 
 
 Our march next day led us through Newton county, al- 
 most in the center of the state. The sweet potato crop of 
 this county was e?ti mated at four hundred thousand bushels. 
 These had been gathered and stored away for shipment to 
 
 —144— 
 
the rebel army. As we passed along we took our choice be- 
 tween the yellow nassemond and the red yams. We were 
 ordered to forage liberally, aiming to keep in the wagons ten 
 days' rations for the horses and men. Soldiers were not al- 
 lowed to enter the dwellings of those who stayed at home, 
 or commit an}^ trespass, but they were permitted to gather 
 turnips, potatoes and other vegetables, and to drive in stock, 
 wherever they were found. Most of the whites fled before 
 us with the rebel cavalry, and where we found their homes 
 deserted, we gathered everything that was eatable. 
 
 As we moved out for the day's march, you might see, 
 here and there, strange pets on whom the owners lavished 
 their affections, which were little touches of the gentler na- 
 ture, which may be seen today, with old soldiers, in the clasp 
 of the friendly hand. We often thought that the tenderest 
 care did not come from the recruit, fresh from home and its 
 endearments, but from the rough, battle-scarred men, gen- 
 erous fellows, long cherished in memory. One of the boys 
 carried a red squirrel more than two thousand miles. "Bun" 
 ate hard tack like a veteran. Another's affections were lav- 
 ished on a little boobj' owl, bearing the classical name of 
 Minerva. One had a pet bear. But chief among camp pets 
 were dogs. On the saddles, in the baggage wagons, growl- 
 ing under a cannon, yellow at that, and pug nosed, with old 
 names, such as "Tray" and "Towser," "Blanche" and 
 "Caesar." A dog, like a horse, came to like the rattle and 
 crash of musketry and cannon. There was one in an 
 Illinois regiment that would chase a half spent shot at 
 Kenesaw, like a kitten would play with a ball. He 
 had been twice wounded, and left the tip of his tail at Stone 
 River, An Illinois battery had a little white spaniel that 
 delighted in the name of "Dot." He always messed with 
 the boys and had his silken coat washed every day. When 
 crossing a stream one day they put him into the sponge 
 
 —145— 
 
bucket that swung under the rear axle, put the cover on, as 
 they always had for a ride. Nobody thought of "Dot." 
 When all was over, a gunner looked into the bucket and 
 "Dot" was as dead as a dirty door mat. Many will remem- 
 ber "Old Abe," the war eagle, of the 8th Wisconsin. He 
 was captured by Captain Perkins and presented to the regi- 
 ment, vvhere he shared the fortunes of war until the regi- 
 ment veteraned, when he was left with the Adjutant General 
 of the State at Madison, where he remained until the close 
 of the war. 
 
 We pushed on through Eatonton, Newton County, and 
 turning southward, headed for Milledgeville. 
 
 It turned cold. The ground was slightly frozen in the 
 morning. With the bracing morning air, we started out, 
 the band playing "Dixie," and the boys began to sing 
 
 "Hoe de corn and scratch de grabble 
 In Dixie's land I'se bound to trabble." 
 
 And we did scratch gravel, for we arrived at Milledgeville 
 before twelve o'clock, having made sixteen miles. 
 
 EH B. Barnes of Co. F, lost his pocket book and one of 
 Howell Cobb's slaves, an old farm hand, found it and re- 
 turned it to him It contained $25. Gen. Cobb was not at 
 home, but we made ourselves at home, anyway. His slaves 
 were packing their bundles to follow Sherman, and we never 
 shall forget the advice of "Old Jimmy." White-haired and 
 bent with the toil of a slave, he stood upon the auction block 
 where many of his race had been sold as cattle, and grew 
 eloquent as he said, "De year ob Jubilee is come, and Massa 
 Einkum will come along some day and say, 'you's free,' " 
 and advised them to stay at home and not burden Massa Sher- 
 man with "de women and children to feed " 
 
 We believe they took his advice, as few left the planta- 
 tion when we moved onward. Gen. Cobb was then in his 
 
 — U6— . 
 
prime, 49, and a rabid secessionist, and never was recon- 
 structed. He died suddenly while on a visit to New York 
 in 1 868. 
 
 Milledgeville was the capitol of the state. When we 
 entered it, it had a population of about two thousand, and 
 was situated about eighty-five miles south-east of Atian ta. The 
 soldiers took possession of the State House, on Clark 
 street, organizing the legislature with a representa- 
 tive from the one hundred and thirty-six counties of 
 the state. The}- elected a speaker, and proceeded to busi- 
 ness. The first act passed was the repeal of the ordinance 
 of secession. Some of the finest speeches we ever listened 
 to were made on that floor. Parliamentary rules may have 
 been violated, yet the proceedings were much more interest- 
 ing and sensible than what had taken place the day before, 
 when the rebels fled in haste for their homes. Here we saw 
 the degrading curse of American slavery. A man as white 
 as any Yank said to us: "Massa's with Gen. McGruder, 
 Missus and I runs this hotel." The planter saw that hu- 
 manity was profitable, not alwa3's with a black skin. With 
 his dogs, horses, and gun, his wines and dinners to attract 
 those whose society he courted, he lived to perpetuate the 
 foul curse of African servitude, and every true American sol- 
 dier felt called of God with fire and sword to blot the iniqui- 
 ty from the land. 
 
 The Third National Thanksgiving of war time was ob- 
 served near here, in true New Kngland style. Not with the 
 clamor of camp life, but with thanks to God for what he was 
 doing for us. 
 
 Fighting began soon after we left Milledgeville. At 
 Sandersville several were wounded, and Anthony Hartley of 
 Co. D was taken prisoner at Fenn's Bridge. The boys of Co. 
 D did not fare so well when Anthony was gone. He was a 
 great forager. 
 
 —147— 
 
Fifteen miles from the Savannah river we turned 
 south, following the only railroad running to Savannah, un- 
 til we reached Millen. The Union prisoners had been re- 
 moved from Andersonville to this place about four weeks 
 previous, but they were hastily removed from Millen ten 
 days before we arrived. Two dead bodies were found, un- 
 buried, which they had left in their haste to get away. 
 
 Our march toward Savannah was rapid. The road was 
 wide, and cavalry and infantry were massed together, caval- 
 ry in the center and infantry as escort, on the sides of the 
 road. Sometimes bands of music answering each other in 
 the distance, filled the vast forest with melody. Following 
 us was a tattered crowd of blacks, that, despite Sherman's 
 order, followed on our trail. When we came to the black 
 swamp we lifted our pontoons, and left them on the other 
 side. Somehow they crossed that night, overtaking us the 
 next day. 
 
 We halted near Ebenezer Church, noted as having been 
 occupied by General Washington during the Revolutionary 
 War, and John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, had 
 preached there when a missionary to the colonies. Here 
 Major Holmes was compelled to fall back on "Jocko," his 
 famous war horse. The Major bought "Jocko" from the Col- 
 onel of the 1 2th Iowa, at Kingston, just before we left At- 
 lanta. He, had bought him from a Mississippi planter. The 
 planter bought him from the Comanche Indians He was 
 perfectly white when foaled— a rare thing — and had some 
 marks of the Arabian pony, and some of the Mexican bron- 
 cho, but was always greater than these. He made his mile 
 in three minutes under the saddle. We first saw him at the 
 battle of Mission Ridge, as Smith's division charged over 
 the tunnel. He carried a scar made by a piece of shell, at 
 Vicksburg. Major Holmes mounted him on the Carolina 
 march with more than a hundred horses of the battalion, 
 
 —148— 
 
he led iu protecting the men who gathered food for the sec- 
 ond division, and when we reached Goldsboro, N. C, every 
 horse that had left Savannah with the squadron had been 
 left, abandoned or killed, but "Jocko," He had covered fifty 
 miles a day most of the time, and came into Goldsboro with- 
 out a chafe, puff or scar, the best piece of horseflesh I ever 
 saw, his strength, endurance and intelligence being marvel- 
 ous. He brought "Jocko" home with him. On the 6th of 
 July, 1892, on the banks of Alum Creek, Franklin county, 
 O., seven miles from Columbus, on the farm of W. T. Rees, 
 he accidently broke his leg, and died with his boots on. 
 An old soldier decentl}^ buried him with military honors at 
 the age of thirty-two. 
 
 Hardee resisted our approach to Savannah by planting 
 torpedoes in the road, felling trees and occasionally shelling 
 our advance. It was here that Lieut. Coe of Barnett's battery 
 was killed by a shell. One of N'ature's noblemen, Major 
 Holmes, said to me: "His face made a sun spot on my heart, 
 and, like the scent of the roses about the broken vase, will 
 hang around it for many a year." 
 
 Barnett's battery was recruited in Central Illinois in '61 
 by Capt. Chas. W. Keith. He was succeeded by Chas. M. 
 Barnett, and he by Judson Rich. They were luck}^ in hav- 
 ing but one officer killed, and twenty men wounded, during 
 the war. 
 
 The first rations of hard tack was issued on Dec. 12th. 
 We had lived for ten da3's on rice, which we found in abun- 
 dance stacked in the fields. We shelled it and hulled it in 
 an iron pot, with an oval bottom for a mortar, and a bayonet 
 for a pestle. We cooked it with fresh beef chopped fine, 
 and ate it as the chinaman eats soup — without the chop- 
 sticks. 
 
 Fort McCallister was taken by General Hazen's men 
 in a gallant charge, and communications were opened at 
 
 —14'.)- 
 
the mouth of the Ogeechee. "Come and get your mail," 
 shouted Ross Rex, on the morning of the 17th, and you 
 might have seen ' 'an eager, anxious throng, pressing the 
 busy street along." How anxious! "Good news from a far 
 country." 
 
 Thirty six days before, we had received our last mail at 
 Kingston. Thomas had whipped Hood at Nashville, and all 
 things were moving toward the end, and friends at home 
 were happy and well. 
 
 Sherman entered Savannah and sent Lincoln the fol- 
 lowing dispatch, "Here's your Christmas gift, the city of 
 Savannah, 13 locomotives, 35 thousand bales of cotton, and 
 one hundred thousand bushels of rice." 
 
 We are to rest. This campaign stands alone in the his- 
 tory of modern warfare. The south was dumbfounded. 
 The north was jubilant with delight. Our army in good 
 condition. Not a wagon lost. My own company came 
 into Savannah with every man we had when we left 
 Atlanta. Wonderful march! The world will never cease 
 wondering at its magnitude, originality and success. 
 
 We ate our Christmas dinner in Savannah. Our first 
 Christmas in the army was spent in Nashville. The second 
 at North Chickamauga, and the third where the robbins were 
 almost as thick as house flies. They awoke us every morn- 
 ing with their song of "chir-up, cheer- up." Christmas 
 came on Sunday and we went to St. John's Episcopal church 
 and heard George W. Pepper, Chaplain of the 8oth Ohio, 
 preach. It was a remarkable sermon. I suppose he did his 
 best as Gen. Sherman and his staff were present. I had 
 always wanted to hear the man who had preached one Sun- 
 day morning in sixty-one, in Warsaw, Coshocton county, 
 O., and enrolled a company for the war before he left the 
 church. As we returned from church we could easily see 
 that the stranger was within the gates. A ceaseless turbu- 
 
 —150— 
 
lent stream of all colors and kinds of humanity crowded the 
 thoroughfares. lyook which way you would, you could see 
 stars. No doubt many of the boys in blue turned their eyes 
 to the north and thought of home and of the last struggle. 
 There came to us the words of Prentice. 
 
 "Remorseless time, fierce spirit of the glass and scythe, 
 What power can stay thine onward course or melt thine 
 iron heart to pity." 
 
 In one of our battles in the south, a white dove be- 
 wildered by the thunder, flew in and out amid the clouds of 
 the battle, and at last fluttered, panting, down upon the 
 wheel of a gun. It was a strange place for the emblem of 
 peace. It belonged to the white flag, and not to the red. 
 An artillery man captured it in his powder- stained hands, 
 caressed it a moment and freed it, in an instant it was lost 
 in the storm. Had that bird flown with the captor's 
 thought, can you doubt it would have fluttered at last at the 
 window of the gunner's far-off home. 
 
 "We must not tarry," said Sherman, as he spoke of his 
 third and final campaign. He still has sixty-five thousand 
 men. The distance to be traveled before the army should 
 reach its objective point — Goldsboro, was about five hun- 
 dred miles. His men were in the best of spirits. Thomas 
 had scattered Hood. Grant and Sherman could now co- 
 operate and crush out the last armed foe. There is to be a 
 few changes in the officers. Logan has joined us and is in 
 command of his old corps Physically he was one of the 
 finest officers in the army. A deep and fierce black eye, a 
 very dark complexion, which gave him the name of "Black- 
 Jack." Howard is still in command of the left. He was 
 known as the "Christian Soldier." At Fair Oaks he lost 
 his right arm and is still living, the same soldier, for God 
 and humanity. 
 
 —151— 
 
Lieut. Colonel J. W. Langley was relieved of the com- 
 tnand of McCook's brigade and Brigadier General B D. 
 Fehring was to lead us through the Carolinas. He had 
 won his star at Chickamauga, while leading his regiment, the 
 92nd Ohio. He was a brave officer, and being tidy in his 
 dress, made a fine appearance as a commanding officer. 
 
 We failed in our attempt to cross into South Carolina, 
 opposite Savannah, on account of the heavy rains, as the 
 low rice fields were badly flooded. We left Savannah the 
 2 1 St of January and reached Sister's Ferry, sixty miles up 
 the Savannah river, on the Georgia side, on the 29th. The 
 heavy rains had made the river almost three miles wide at 
 the Ferry, and we were compelled to wait until Feb. 5th. 
 Three divisions of the 14th corps — one of the 20th, and 
 Gen. Kilpatrick with his cavalry were waiting to cross. 
 Sherman with the right wing and two divisions of the 20th 
 corps were moving in the direction of the Charleston and 
 Augusta railroad. 
 
 —152- 
 
1st. sergt. a. k. holmes, CO. G. 
 
 -153— 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 INTO SOUTH CAROLINA, COLUMBIA CAPTURED. 
 
 THE gunboat "Pontiac," commanded by Captain lyuce, 
 had come up to cover our crossing. The cold winter 
 rains had set in, and the roads were in a terrible condition, 
 but we managed to dry our clothes before the camp fire, and 
 crawling into our "dog tent," went to sleep in a moment, a 
 slumber so near akin to death, that the orderly had to shake 
 each man to wake him, even after the bugle had sounded 
 the morning call. 
 
 Providence seemed against us in starting, but we crossed 
 the pontoon bridge. As we got out into the middle of the 
 river, we could more easily understand w^hy an eccentric fa- 
 ther named his daughter "Savannah." It was a beautiful 
 thing that girl was named for. The trees that lined its 
 banks were festooned with Spanish Moss, hung like the cur- 
 tains of the old "Tabernacle," which Moses built, while so- 
 journing in the wilderness. The night encampments were 
 gloomy and cold. With the morning light, the bugle call 
 roused us, alike in stormy and pleasant weather. As we push- 
 ed on over the dreary country, our feelings were very much 
 changed, the moment we set toot on South Carolina soil. 
 Not a house or fence was left standing, along our march. 
 The state was the first to pass the ordinance of secession, and 
 fire upon the old flag, and to make the feeling more intense, 
 Hampton's cavalry began to kill all men caught away from 
 their commands. Sherman selected ten men by lot from ihe 
 prisoners in his hands, and shot them in retaliation. 
 
 Our second day's march brought us to the Salkehatchie 
 river at Brighton, Hampton county. Here we destroyed the 
 
 —154— 
 
Charleston and Augusta railroad, thus dividing the rebel 
 forces at Charleston from those concentrating at Augusta 
 Crossing the Edisto, straight through the heart of the proud 
 rebellious state, the mighty columns moved with resistless 
 power, until on the tenth, we were in Blackwell. Barnwell 
 
 county. , . ^ i 
 
 Sherman has never received justice for his strategy in 
 deceiving the enemy as to his movements, by which he cut. 
 effectually, their lines of communication, preventing the 
 uniting of their forces, whereby they might have harassed 
 our march all through the state. The left wing had no com- 
 munication with the right wing except by couriers, until we 
 reached Columbia, yet we could follow their line of march, 
 by the dark cloud of smoke made by burning cotton gins 
 and outbuildings. Kilpatrick said to Sherman as we started 
 "How shall I let you know where I am?" "Oh, just burn 
 a barn or something and make a smoke, as the Indians do 
 on the Plains," was Sherman's reply. The smoke of the 
 burning pine forests was so dense that we yankees were al- 
 most as black as coal heavers, or the negroes that followed 
 us Forage was scarce. One of our boys, who had tramped 
 all day and "caught nothing," said tons, "South Carolina 
 seems to have but two staple commodities, frogs and bad 
 roads," while we had two equals to balance the condition of 
 affairs, stomachs and haversacks, both empty. 
 
 A detail of foragers sent out from the Edisto river, after 
 two days search for the fat of the land, took an inventory of 
 what they had gathered as follows: One cart, with a broken 
 wheel; one yoke of oxen, red and brindle; one peck of sweet 
 potatoes, one-half to an inch thick; one rooster, too old to 
 crow and a half bushel of wilted turnips. 
 
 Columbia was taken by the 25th Iowa, Colonel Stone 
 commanding, Wade Hampton retreating. It was a mystery 
 to me why the enemy made no resistance. Columbia is 
 
 — 156 — 
 
on the Congaree riv^er at the junction of the Saluda and 
 Broad, which is navigable to this point. The capital is one 
 hundred miles northwest of Charleston. It was a beautiful 
 city, built on a plain 200 feet above the river, and its streets 
 are one hundred feet wide. The city was burned by firing 
 the cotton bales, which had been piled on the street corners, 
 in their attempt to get it loaded on trains for transportation 
 to Charleston, The cotton was fired by the rebel cavalry. 
 A strong wind blew the burning mass to all parts of the 
 city and no effort could save it. Twenty-five blocks went 
 up in flames. When Colonel Stone's men entered the city, 
 they found twenty-seven Union prisoners, which had been 
 hidden by an old negro in the loft of an unoccupied church 
 building. They had escaped while they were being taken 
 to Saulsbury prison. They came out from their hiding 
 place to greet the old flag, and sent up cheer after cheer for 
 Sherman. 
 
 Oar division did not entei' Columbia, but many of the 
 boys crossed in a flatboat that night, and took in the sights 
 and scenes of the burning city. We marched unmolested 
 northward. The 20th corps crossed the Catawba at Hang- 
 ing Rock, while the 14th corps crossed a little lower down, 
 on the road to Chesterfield. The pontoon bridge was torn 
 from its moorings by the swollen river and it was with 
 difficulty that we were enabled to replace it, but we 
 succeeded after a day and night of anxiety and made up 
 the lost time by marching twenty-five miles a day until we 
 crossed the North Carolina line at Sneedsboro, on the Great 
 Pee Dee river. We had drawn two pairs of shoes, when we 
 started. They proved to be worthless, for as soon as the 
 threads were cut, they were soleless Marching in the sand 
 of that dense pine region, our feet being ground with the 
 grains of sand, we were compelled to ask for a mount, 
 and travel as a scout with a number of others, who hung 
 
 —166— 
 
upon the flank of our columns. In the role of a scout, 
 with two others, we came to a cross-roads Desiring to 
 keep in safe distance from the marching column, we halted 
 for counsel. A citizen drove up in a one-hor.se vehicle. He 
 proved to be the mail carrier from Cheraw to Jacksonville, 
 the county seat of Onslow county. Taking charge of the 
 mail, we traded horses with him, also our government shoes 
 for a "two-hundred dollar pair of boots," giving seventy-five 
 dollars, confederate money, to make it even. Taking the 
 mail to General Slocum's headquarters, we were compli- 
 mented for the capture. 
 
 Moving rapidly toward Fayetteville, we were two days 
 passing through the dense pine forests of North Carolina, 
 expecting to reach Fayetteville, on the Cape Fear river, by 
 the loth of March. Our progress was neces.'-arily slow on 
 account of a large force of cavalry in our front, stubbornly 
 resisting our advance, in order to let Johnson concentrate 
 on the east side of the Cape Fear river. 
 
 Kilpatrick was surprised in his camp by Wade Hamp- 
 ton, before day on the morning of the 9th — and we made 
 a forced march of six miles to help him out. But brave 
 "Kill" brought victory out of defeat, and drove Hampton 
 toward the river. A large turpentine factory had been fired 
 by Hampton's men to keep its valuable stores from falling 
 into our hands. It was a terrible conflagration. One of the 
 boys of Co. D, in describing the fire to a group of eager 
 listeners, after he came home, said, "The blaze rose four 
 miles toward heaven, leaping and roaring like a bunsting 
 volcano. So great was the heat from the burning casks 
 and tar pits, that we were compelled to turn to the 
 right eight miles down Fallis creek, crossing at a ford, 
 the water being so hot from the heated air of the mighty 
 burning cauldron, that it took the hair off the horse's legs 
 as they forded it." 
 
 —167— 
 
The foragers of the 15th corps, under command of 
 Major Holmes, drove the cavalry out of Fayetteville on the 
 morning of the eleventh, but were too late to save the fine 
 bridge over the Cape Fear river. The gun boat, Davidson, 
 Captain Ainsworth commanding, reached Fayetteville a 
 few hours after our men captured it, opening communica- 
 tions with Wilmington by the river. Fayetteville was the 
 county seat of Cumberland county and had a population of 
 six thousand. The United States Arsenal had been re- 
 moved from Harper's Ferry, Va., to this place a year or two 
 before the war began. When the first shot was fired on 
 Fort Sumpter it was taken possession of by the rebels, in it 
 was stored thirty-five thousand stand of arms and a 
 number of cannon. In 1870 the city had twenty prosperous 
 churches. The citizens were glad to see us and said, "we 
 are tired of this cruel war." 
 
 Slocum crossed at Fayetteville. Howard three miles 
 below, on the fifteenth. Raleigh was fifty-five miles north 
 of us, and we expected to meet the combined armies of 
 Johnson and Hardee somewhere in the near future where a 
 battle would decide the fate of the campaign. Taking the 
 plank road to Raleigh on the morning of the fifteenth we 
 encountered Hardee eleven miles north, near Kyle's landing. 
 On the morning of the sixteenth, Ward's division of the 
 20th corps encountered the enemy, entrenched a mile and a 
 half from Averysboro, a small village in Harnet county. The 
 ground was so swampy that it was almost impossible to get 
 our artillery in position. The 14th corps formed on the 
 left of the 20th, near the Cape Fear river. Rhett's heavy 
 artillery from Charleston were in front of us. Col. Rhett 
 was captured early in the day by our skirmishers. The 
 enemy had three small black cannon, six pounders, A shot 
 from Winnager's battery on our line exploded in one of the 
 lumber chests killing every one of the battery horses at- 
 
 —158— 
 
tached to it. Caskey's Brigade of Ward's division made a 
 brilliant charge on the left and rear, capturing the battery 
 and two hundred and seventy prisoners. The South Caro- 
 lina boys fled in confusion leaving guns, blankets and knap- 
 sacks in the trenches. We pushed the enemy a mile or 
 more finding aline of works more substantially constructed. 
 Slowl)" and steadily we crept up on their line encountering 
 fierce opposition. We lost three killed and seven wounded. 
 The brave and genial Capt. James M. Summers command- 
 ing Co. D, fell mortall}' wounded while charging the enemy 
 in the morning, and is buried at Newberne, North Carolina. 
 Wm. M. Flemming of the trio of Flemming brothers, 
 Company B, was killed on the line and is buried at Raleigh. 
 Rob't M. Blackburn of Co. E was pierced on the first line 
 and was buried where he fell, before we advanced in the 
 evening. He was a good soldier, quiet and lovable in his 
 disposition. Reserved just one year. Geo. S. Thomas of 
 Company E, was disabled by a gun shot wound, through 
 the hand. He lives in Scio, O. We lost in this battle, 
 seventy-seven killed, and four hundred and seventy-seven 
 wounded. The rebels left one hundred and eighty-five dead 
 on the field, which we buried, they retreating toward Smith- 
 field. 
 
 We moved at ten in the morning of the i8th. March- 
 ing fourteen miles, camping five miles from Bentonville, in 
 Johnson county, and twenty-seven miles from Goldsboro. 
 Only two more days and the goal would be reached. Car- 
 lin's division of our corps took the lead the next morning. 
 Our bummers, who were known as mounted foragers, en- 
 countered Dibbrell's cavalry and easih- drove them back. But 
 they were amazed to run into a line of infantry, entrenched. 
 Prisoners taken by Major Holmes' mounted scouts, reported 
 Johnson in front with three corps, respectively commanded 
 
 —159— 
 
by Hoke, Hardee and Cheatham, numbering about thirty 
 thousand men. 
 
 Johnson pushed out and attacked the head of our col- 
 umn, gaining temporary advantage, driving the two leading 
 brigades back to the main body. General Sherman had 
 spent the night with Slocum, but had started early in the 
 morning to join the right wing, four miles south. 
 
 There was a lull in the fighting for some Itttle time, 
 when Slocum deployed the two divisions of our corps, Mor- 
 gan's and Carlin's, Beard being in the rear guarding the 
 wagon train. Tlie 20th corps marched rapidly into position, 
 and the artilleiy was massed on a knoll a little to the rear 
 of our works. 
 
 No one who took part in that battle can forget the 
 thick, dark growth of pines that lifted their heads from a 
 morass almost impassable, nor the stern determination with 
 which our line went forward through the pathless swamp 
 to meet an unseen enemy hid from all view, until his ring- 
 ing musketry told us we had found his hiding place. Our 
 batteries did splendid service. They thrust their ponderous 
 fists into the face of the enemy, planting blows at will. 
 
 All that saved us from crushing defeat, was the dense 
 pine thicket which held Johnson at bay, until our scattered 
 forces came up. Fehring's brigade, to which we belonged, 
 occupied three positions during the fight. Our first position 
 was on the right, and in the rear of Vandever's brigade, 
 where we commenced a line of works, but were moved to the 
 left and front of Mitchell's brigade, and across the road on 
 which we came in from Averysboro. Our second position 
 was at least five hundred yards in front of the line on which 
 the battle was fought in the afternoon. 
 
 At noon the enemy left their works and made their first 
 desperate charge. Gen. Davis rode out to our line and 
 moved us back on a line with Mitchell, but there was a gap 
 
 —160— 
 
between us and Mitchell. Vandever was brought up and 
 still there was a gap, and Slocum ordered Cogswell's brigade 
 of the 20th Corps to come in between us and Vandever. 
 When the assault was made, our line was as follows: Mit- 
 chell on the extreme right, Vandever, then Cogswell, then 
 Fehring, then Miles, Hobart and Robinson, with Dustan's 
 and Case's brigades of the 20th corps in the reserve. The 
 first assault was made against Fehring and Cogswell, Har- 
 dee and Hoke led the charge. They came through the 
 woods with arms trailed, firing but little, as if they deter- 
 mined to crush our line by mere might of numbers. But 
 we met them with volley after volley, mowing them down 
 like grass, but they bowed their heads and came on . They 
 penetrated between Cogswell and Mitchell, yet neither gave 
 way. Mitchell had a strong barricade of pine logs, and he 
 would repulse them on one side, climb over and fight those 
 that were in his rear. 
 
 The 98th Ohio came out of the fight with a record un- 
 equaled by any regiment, ni that unequal contest with John- 
 son's Veterans. More than a score of that regiment deserved 
 remembrance for gallantry at the hands of the government. 
 
 We had fought Johnson before on many a contested 
 field. Here we whipped him for the last time. He was 
 repulsed on all sides. His dead were found on four sides of 
 Mitchell's brigade, in the rear and front of Vandever and 
 Fehring. They fought with spirit and determination. 
 Their line was relieved three times, and fresh troops sent in, 
 but we were in our last battle of Sherman's bold adventure 
 and we must drive the rebels from their last ditch. In this 
 battle our line received six distinct assaults by the combined 
 forces of Johnson's three corps. 
 
 For the time it lasted, Bentonville was the most san- 
 guinary battle of the war, and the only serious one between 
 Atlanta and Raleigh. Sherman expected this battle, but 
 
 —161— 
 
did not intend to have it thrown on Slocum alone. In suc- 
 cessive waves, column after column came with a determi- 
 nation to carry our works at any sacrifice. But right in 
 their path was "Pap Thomas'" old corps, the 14th, now led 
 by Jeff C. Davis. 
 
 I can give you but a faint idea of the battle cauldron 
 that boiled in that dense thicket of pines. An incident 
 here and there will assist you in painting the picture for 
 yourself. The dead were on both sides of our works. 
 Guns and scabbards, dead horses, and wrecks of abulances, 
 that had been left in the swamp. Bloody garments and 
 bloody men strewed the ground, and, tread lightly, for the 
 boys, who saved the day are lying there. No more they 
 cheer, as they charged or fought hand to hand over those 
 pine logs and never for them, sweet as heaven itself, will 
 the soldier return to home and friends. 
 
 Our loss was light, perhaps the lightest of any battle in 
 which we were engaged for the amount of firing we did. 
 I verily believe that the 98th Ohio killed more of the enemy 
 than that regiment reported for duty the morning of the 
 battle. We lay flat upon the ground, until the enemy 
 were within thirty yards of us, concealed by the dense un- 
 dergrowth, when we arose, poured a volley into their faces, 
 and then charged them in their confusion. We were on 
 the skirmish line most of the morning and were taken in by 
 one of their charges, but the 17th New York of the first di- 
 vision charged their flank and recaptured us in a short time 
 after our capture. 
 
 Sherman's entire loss was twenty-three officers and 
 fifteen hundred and eighty-one men, while Johnson officially 
 reported twenty-three hundred and forty-three. The loss 
 in the regiment, killed and mortally wounded, six, and 
 twenty three wounded. Six of my own company 
 weie absent from roll call. Sergeant David M, Scott lost 
 
 —162— 
 
an arm. We helped to take him to the hospital, where he 
 watched the surgeon take off the mangled limb, as calm as 
 he had gone into battle an hour before. John F. Rightly 
 lived an hour after he was carried from the field. Joseph 
 M. Thompson, who fell with me at Linnville, was seriously 
 wounded in the thigh, but he still lives Robert Farrow of 
 Co. D, was killed early in the day. Peter Risser of Co. I 
 wasmortall}^ wounded in the charge in the afternoon, 
 
 General Ben D. Fehring was wounded in the hand 
 early in the afternoon and the command fell upon Lieut. Col. 
 Langley of the 125th 111, Gen. Fehring was a brave of- 
 ficer. By his kindness and gentlemanly bearing he was 
 beloved and respected by all the men. He died in Marietta, 
 Ohio, shortly after the war. 
 
 Howard came up in the night and we were safe. We 
 spent the night where we had fought through the day with 
 the dead all around us. Men, prone upon their faces in 
 death's deep abasement, — here lies one, his head pillowed 
 upon his folded arms, there one, his cheek pressed upon a 
 stone as was Jacob's at Bethel, yonder one with his fingers 
 stiffened round a musket — over yonder a butternut and a 
 true blue had gone down together, the arm of one flung over 
 the other. We pass on to where a lieutenant grasps a bush 
 as if he died vainly feeling for a little hold upon earth and 
 life. 
 
 Those faces are not what you would think thej' would 
 be. Not one of them distorted with any passion, but white 
 and calm, as if in dream of peace, still a few strangely beau- 
 tiful. As we visited the hospital next day, to see how the 
 boys were coming on, the floor all around was one layer 
 deep with wounded men. Bandages, white and ghastly, 
 everywhere. Bandages, bandages, with now and then a 
 rusty spot of blood. 
 
 —163— 
 
Only a day oif that bloody field, and yet what worn-out, 
 faded faces look up at you. A jolly Irishman from the 17th 
 New York (those fellows that wore the red turbans,) had 
 lost his right arm. One of the nurses was complaining 
 that things were not going to please him, when Pat said to 
 him, — "I tell you, man, shut up your growling, or I'll knock 
 you down wish my stump." That was their last battle. 
 
 Johnson did not leave our front. He only changed his 
 lines to protect his left. We charged their picket line, driv- 
 ing them in just in front of us, and set fire to an old vacant 
 house, where a number of sharpshooters had concealed 
 themselves. That night quiet reigned along the line, until 
 shortly after eight, when General Mitchell, who commanded 
 the ist division of our corps, worn out with anxiety and 
 worry of the battle, laid down with one of his men for a 
 little sleep, when an officer of his staff aroused him saying, 
 "Here is a staff officer with a message for you." He arose 
 and met a bright young fellow, who said, "Col. Hardee 
 presents his compliments to you and asks that you will 
 apprise your line, that he is forming in your front, to charge 
 the Yankee lines on your left." Gen. Mitchell asked him 
 to repeat his message — which he did. The General in- 
 quired, "what Colonel it was," and was told, "Colonel 
 Hardee of the 23rd Georgia." 
 
 Mitchell sent the young man to the rear, called in his 
 entire picket line, waited until the rebel line was formed 
 in his front, and at the tap of a drum, a volley was fired 
 into the rebel lines, followed by screams and groans, and 
 cursings. The next morning, among the dead was found 
 a line of new Enfield rifles, just from England, and knap- 
 sacks almost as straight as if laid out for a Sunday morn- 
 ing inspection. 
 
 Col. Hardee, who was severely wounded, told some of 
 our ofl&cers, "that his men had never been in battle, and had 
 
 —164— 
 
not fired a gun in the two days previous, and when they were 
 brought out to make that attack, they had boasted they 
 would go right over the Yankee works, and vowed they 
 would take no prisoners." They had been in and around 
 NVilmington, during the whole war and never had a glinipse 
 of the elephant until that night. As that volley went 
 through their ranks, "They ran," said the Colonel, "and I 
 have no doubt they are still running for we were never 
 able to get ten of them together after their flight." 
 
 Johnson was gone the next morning. Our cavalry 
 followed to the river, while we took up the line of march 
 for Goldsboro. 
 
 —165— 
 
COBP. T. D, NEIGHBOB,i;CO. D. 
 
 —166- 
 
w 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FROM GOI^DSBORO — TO THE CLOSE. 
 
 E reached Goldsboro on the 23rd, ragged and shoe- 
 less, having been shut up in a hostile country for 
 a little more than two months. Gen. Schofield had entered 
 that place two days before with little or no opposition. Gen, 
 Terry took possession of Cox's Bridge on the Neuse river, 
 ten miles above, on the same day, so that the three armies 
 were in connection, and the great object of the campaign 
 was accomplished. The sea coast was clear from Savannah 
 to Newberne, and our base of supplies secured. We are to 
 rest and refit our army, preparatory to the next move. In 
 less than two weeks thirty thousand were supplied with 
 shoes, and a hundred thousand with clothing. 
 
 What a camp we had on all the slopes around Golds- 
 boro. In the solemn forests and spreading fields, the tents 
 of the army were pitched, and the toil-worn veterans took a 
 long holiday. Sherman turned over the army to Schofield, 
 and went to City Point to meet Gen. Grant, where he also 
 met President Lincoln. He was given a royal welcome by 
 both of these great men, and here he arranged to co-operate 
 with Grant in the investment of Richmond. 
 
 We were at Goldsboro sixteen days, putting in our time 
 watching a division of colored troops drill in a large, open 
 field near bj'. The boys who had sworn "they would never 
 fire another gun if the nigger was freed," changed their 
 minds while here, when they heard Terry's men tell the 
 story of the bloody charge of that black division at Ft. Fish- 
 er, and here witnessed the steady step and efl&cient evolu- 
 
 —167— 
 
tions of battalion drill on the field. They said, "Welcome) 
 my black brother, you are not half so odious as treason and 
 traitors." 
 
 It seemed sad that men, who had escaped death in the 
 fury of battle, must be shot down by the enemy, when the 
 advantage was on their side. A number of our pickets were 
 shot while here, by rebel scouts, who would creep up and 
 send a bullet into the body or brain of many a brave man. 
 Quite a number of absentees came up from Kingston. Most 
 of them were men who had been wounded in the Atlanta 
 campaign and had made their way to the east, and down the 
 sea-coast to Kingston, thus increasing our number on dress 
 parade from two hundred and ninety-two, to three hundred 
 and twenty-two. 
 
 We began to move on Johnson April loth. Eleven 
 months before, Sherman had moved on this same Johnson, 
 many hundred miles from here, when hope was mixed with 
 doubt. Now with an army almost the same in numbers, 
 he moves in an opposite direction, believing that the remnant 
 of the army of traitors will be ground to powder between the 
 upper millstone. Grant's army, and the nether millstone, the 
 swift-marching legions of Sherman, aided by an almighty 
 providence, thus destroy the image of iron and brass and clay 
 and scatter it to the four winds. As we advanced he retreated, 
 burning the bridges. We made about twelve miles a day, 
 pressing his rear guard very closely. I think I am right 
 when I say that the last fighting was done by our brigade on 
 the evening of the 12th, when the 22nd Indiana lost quite a 
 number, killed and wounded. 
 
 On the evening of the 12th Sherman received a dispatch 
 announcing the surrender of Lee's array, to Grant. The 
 whole army almost went crazy. Joy knew no bounds. It 
 seemed that Pandemonium had broken loose. "Old Billy" 
 was as crazy as any one, for in the height of his joy' he 
 
 —168 — 
 
shouted, "Glory to God and our glorious country!" We 
 sang "Coronation," "Praise God From Whom all Blessings 
 Flow," and "John Brown's Body." 
 
 The surrender of Lee changed our route materially. 
 The left wing was to go to Smithfield, then out to War- 
 rington; Schofield by Whaley's Mills, and Rolesville. The 
 right wing to Nahunta and from there to Warrington. Now 
 we are ordered to concentrate on Raleigh and from there, 
 south-west to Ashboro, thus preventing any organized forces 
 of Lee's army, that might come south, from escaping into 
 Georgia. Our troops, led by the 9th Ohio cavalry, occupied 
 Raleigh on the 13th, marching in the direction of Durham's 
 station. 
 
 Raleigh is the capital of North Carolina, situated in Wake 
 county. It is beautifully located, and had a population of 
 seven thousand when we entered it. Johnson seemed to 
 move rapidly, and indicated a desire to avoid a battle, by turn- 
 ing his course to the south-west. The next day a detail of 
 twenty-five men from the regiment, went out in search of 
 grain and forage for the horses. On our return a body of 
 rebel cavalry charged the rear of the train, capturing Emory 
 Smyth, and William K ShuUz of Co. G. The latter was 
 shot down after he had surrendered, and is buried in Raleigh. 
 He was a brave soldier, universally beloved by the members 
 of his company. Johnson proposed an armistice to consider 
 terms of surrender on the evening of the 15th, proposing that 
 hostilities should cease while the matter of the surrender was 
 being considered. Just as Gen. Sherman and his officers 
 were starting for the interview, on the morning of the 17th, 
 he received a dispatch containing the dreadful news of the 
 assassination of President Lincoln. Sherman pledged the 
 operator to the strictest secrecy of the contents of the dis- 
 patch, fearing the result of its announcement to the army, 
 while negotiations were pending. The dispatch was pro- 
 
mulgated on his return. It spread like wildfire, and we 
 were plunged in a moment from the pinnacle of rejoicing 
 to the lowest depths of grief. To every soldier Lincoln's 
 death came as a sore, personal bereavement. 
 
 For a time we were dazed, then the fountains o! the 
 great deep were broken up, and hundreds of those bronzed 
 veterans wept like children. It was darkness at noontide. 
 Kven the people of the south felt that they had lost a friend. 
 
 There was little thought of vengeance, but it was almost 
 more than we could bear. Our feelings went out in contempt 
 for the peace at any price sympathizers and rebels of the 
 North who will answer for the death of our Martyred Presi- 
 dent. Sherman's terms of surrender were disapproved by 
 Hallock, and Grant was sent to Raleigh and directed to pro- 
 ceed with operations against the enemy. 
 
 Grant came and quietly sent Sherman to treat with 
 Johnson as though nothing had happened. Johnson came to 
 terms on the 26th of April. Grant read the memorandum 
 of agreement carefully, signed it, and leaving us the next 
 day, took the same to Washington. We knew the war 
 was over and our eyes turned wistfully towards home. We 
 were two hundred and forty miles from Richmond, and 
 expected to reach that place in twenty days. How thank- 
 ful we were that only one had been killed and five taken 
 prisoner since we left Goldsboro. An order was issued, 
 "That those who were not able for the march, would be 
 sent by way of the coast and up the Atlantic to City Point. 
 Only about two from each company, availed themselves of 
 this offer, preferring the chance of standing the march, and 
 the apportunity of seeing Richmond and the battle fields 
 of the east, to a ride on an ocean vessel, home. We were 
 not long in getting ready. 
 
 On the morning of April 30th, stripped of everything 
 but shelter tents, blankets and guns, we started for Rich- 
 
 —170— 
 
mond. Our cartridge boxes were emptied the first day and 
 the boxes filled with love letters and sacred pictures that we 
 had carried the three years, and such relies from the knap- 
 sack as we wanted to preserve. Had the inspector came 
 around he might have taken us for the secretar}' of war. 
 
 We met an occasional squad of Lee's army on their 
 way home, who greeted us with the .salutation, "Its all 
 over, and you'uns can have her — what's left of her." Our 
 route was free from swamps, being on the left of the line of 
 march. We crossed the Roanoke river at Clarksville. It 
 was much the widest river we had crossed, since we 
 left home, requiring all the pontoons of the left wing to 
 span it. The Roanoke is formed by the Staunton and Dan 
 rivers, and is navigable for the distance of two hundred 
 and fifty miles. The valley is very fertile and had suffered 
 very little during the war. 
 
 After leaving the valley the country was very poor, 
 particularly in Mecklenburg county, where the farms had 
 grown over with stubby pine, leaving the print of the corn 
 rows, when last tilled We were informed one morning 
 that if we expected to .see the capital of the defunct con- 
 federacy, we would have to scratch gravel, as a race was 
 up between the 14th and 20th corps and our march through 
 the streets of Richmond would depend upon our reaching 
 the James river first. As we crossed the .state line into 
 the — "Old Dominion" — Virginia, we thought of the name — 
 how significant. The first of the colonies to swear allegi- 
 ance to King George the second, and the last to witness the 
 dreadful death gasp of the dying Confederacy. We had 
 marched through every seceding state except Arkansas, 
 Louisiana, Texas and Florida, and the end had come in old 
 Virginia, the "Mother of Presidents." 
 
 The signs on the warehouses, "Plaster Mills" and 
 Guano, which were to be seen in every town and cross 
 
 —171— 
 
road, were suggestive that the "sacred soil" needed all sorts 
 of tonics to keep it up. For the sweat of the brow that 
 used to fall there, never yet fattened the ground it fell on. 
 But the fields of the Old Dominion grew richer every day 
 during that conflict, for the rain was red that watered 
 them; but the God of our Fathers cleared away the cloud. 
 We reached the James river May 8th, making an average 
 of twenty-five miles a day. The last day was a race for the 
 goal. Starting at five, we reached Manchester opposite 
 Richmond at seven, making forty-six miles, gaining the 
 race by several hours. Much feeling existed in Sherman's 
 army, on account of the treatment their commander had re- 
 ceived at the hands of Secretary Stanton and General Hal- 
 lock in regard to the terms offered in the surrender of 
 Johnson's army. They had purposely tried to wound and 
 humble him in the very hour of triumph. Gen. Sherman 
 felt deeply wronged, and his men who had marched with 
 him to treasures and triumphs were mad. 
 
 How we recall the words of "Uncle Billy" when speak- 
 ing of those men who slept in comfort and security, while 
 we watched on distant lines. It was cruel to be thus tra- 
 duced by those whom no motive could induce to shoulder 
 a musket. Our men resented the insult with the approval 
 of the loyal North by marching through the city, and pass- 
 ing Gen. Hallock's headquarters without the usual recog- 
 nition of rank or command. 
 
 Richmond is ninety-five miles south-west of Washing- 
 ton, and had a population of forty thousand when captured. 
 It is a significant fact in history that General Weitzel's bri- 
 gade of colored troops were the first to enter the city. 
 Many of those black men who marched through it on 
 the day of its capture, April 3d, 1865, had been slaves all 
 their lives until L,iucoln's emancipation proclamation was 
 issued. 
 
 —172— 
 
We saw but little of the city, except the ruiu in its 
 evacuation. Four great government warehouses had been 
 fired b)' General Ewell as his troops marched out. The 
 flames spread from street to street, destroying fully one-third 
 of the city. As we passed Old Libby prison we thought 
 how many brave men had gone in there to come out no 
 more, yet they still live in song and story. 
 
 Our route to Washington took us over many of the 
 prominent battle fields of the East. Crossing the Rapidan 
 at Ely's Ford on the evening of the second day, we camped 
 on part of the Wilderness battlefield. The battle lasted 
 three da5^s and was remarkable for many things. Grant had 
 two hundred and fifty pieces of artillery; yet in the main 
 they slept idly in rows under the trees, wholly useless in 
 that struggle. The contending hosts could only see each 
 other as they met face to face. Two of the mightiest armies 
 that ever met on this continent fought hard for three days, 
 yet to us it looked like bushwhacking through a forest eight 
 miles in extent. Grant could not see his army; he could 
 only hear it. The roar and din told of a great conflict. The 
 endurance of the men on both sides was wonderful. Thirty 
 thousand, probably, fell and the victory was Grant's. 
 
 How interesting the route became to us. On the same 
 roads on which the armies of the North and South had 
 marched and countermarched, during the past four years of 
 struggle and doubt, but the end had come, and now our 
 army of the West could, unmolested, journey homeward, 
 viewing as we went the scenes and .struggles of our com- 
 rades in the East. Going up like the children of Israel 
 to rejoice with them in the triumphs of our arms. 
 
 Crossing the Rappahannock, a few miles below Fred- 
 ricksburgh, we soon came in sight of the historic "Manna-ssas 
 Plains," which was literally covered with fortified lines. At 
 the close of the war farms sold on the plains for ten dollars 
 
 —178— 
 
an acre. Our last camp before reaching Washington was on 
 Bull Run battlefield. What disaster to the Union cause was 
 that Fourth of July battle. Had we routed Beauregard's 
 army, the conflict might have ended before Christmas. On 
 a large beech tree on the bank of the little stream, we no- 
 ticed the name of W. H. Reynolds, Co. H, 2nd Ohio. As a 
 member of Co. E, 52nd, he was seriously wounded at Kenesaw 
 Mountain, June 27th, 1864, and was discharged for disabil- 
 ity from the same. He edited the Ashland Times, and was 
 brutally murdered, while testifying in a court of justice in 
 the peaceful village of Orange, O., October 29th, 1887. A 
 sad ending of a brave manly man. 
 
 lyight hearted and free, we journey from Bull Run to 
 Arlington, pitching our tents on the Heights early in the 
 afternoon of May the 19th. Right in the rear of our camp 
 among the trees, lifted the columned front of the Arlington 
 House, the abandoned home of General Robert K. Lee. The 
 property was confiscated by our government and used as a 
 burial place for our "honored dead." The odl mansion- 
 house is used as a place of reception of the thousands of 
 those who visit the capital. The National Cemetery on the 
 Heights is filled with the dead from the battle fields of the 
 army of the Potomac. 
 
 It seemed almost like a dream to us, as we sat in front 
 of our tents, gazing upon the scene before us. Our long 
 march is ended. We had crossed and recrossed eight states, 
 traveling, on foot and by rail, nearly eight thousand miles. 
 Our arms have been victorious, our country saved, and we 
 are to join the nation, now assembling at her capital, in cele- 
 brating the victory. 
 
 Just across the Potomac was the dome of the capitol. 
 lyike Lookout Mountain, at Chattanooga, you can never lose 
 sight of it. White tents could be seen everywhere, for 
 the greatest army of the nineteenth century had gathered 
 
 —174— 
 
JAMES M. KNISELV, DRUM MAJOR. 
 
 —175— 
 
here. Down the Potomac were forts and defenses. But the 
 scene on the river made you forget its shores. Boats 
 coming and going, with sails like a cloud above a cloud, 
 every one of them dotted with soldier boys. But they were 
 all alike in one thing: they all carried the flag of victory, 
 vast and broad, flopping like an eagle's wings, just as we had 
 seen it on the 6eld of battle. Washington's defenses were 
 immense. Sixty forts filled with sixty batteries, ribbed with 
 rifle pits, loaded with bombs; all woven in the loom of war. 
 
 The crowd was immense. More than 200,000 soldiers. 
 And a hundred thousand citizens of the great North, were hum- 
 ming round the hotels or on the streets, while the newsboy's 
 were crying, "All about the parade." Gladness beamed 
 from their faces everywhere. There were recognitions that 
 made everybody glad. Two brothers, lost to each other for 
 years, one was with Grant, the other with L,ee, met here 
 face to face and knew each other. 
 
 Grant's army was reviewed on the 23rd. The day was 
 delightful and the parade was imposing. Part of Sherman's 
 army crossed the Potomac in the evening of the 23rd and 
 bivouaced in the streets around the capitol, while the 14th 
 Corps moved down to the "L,ong Bridge" and camped 
 for the night. 
 
 We had spent the 23rd in brightening up our guns and 
 mountings, and getting our soiled clothing in the best condi- 
 tion, that we might be ready to keep step on the morrow. 
 As we crossed the bridge the next morning, command was 
 given to break step and march in open order that a swinging 
 motion might be avoided; the bridge being considered unsafe. 
 
 At nine o'clock the Signal gun was fired. Sherman and 
 Howard rode slowly up Pennsylvania avenue, accompanied 
 b}' their staff officers. We wondered, as the column started, 
 why General lyOgan was in command of the army of the 
 Tennessee, while Gen. Howard, who had commanded it after 
 
 — 176— 
 
Gen. McPhersou's death, was with Sherman at the head of 
 the procession. Gen. Howard, in his Memoirs, tells us that 
 "it was the highest ambition of his life to march that day 
 with the men who had helped to make him what he was." 
 When General Sherman said to him, "You will march at 
 the head of the right wing, ' ' he resented the proposal with 
 emphasis. General Sherman said to him calmly: "Howard 
 you are a Christian. Suffer it to be so for my sake." and 
 the Christian soldier submitted without a murmur. 
 
 The western army was six hours in passing the review- 
 ing stand in the following order, fifteenth, seventeenth, and 
 fourteenth corps, sixtj'-five thousand men of splendid phy- 
 sique, who had marched nearly one thousand miles through a 
 hostile country. Now they are almost at the end of the sta- 
 dium on which hangsan immortalcrown, while a great cloud of 
 witnessesare watching. Our own loyal-hearted, liberty-loving 
 people to applaud and approve, while foreigners looked on 
 and were amazed. Many good people had looked upon our 
 western army as a sort of a mob, but they were compelled 
 to admit its superior organization and discipline. 
 
 Pap Thomas' old corps, the fourteenth, commanded by 
 General Jeff C, Davis was the last to pass the reviewing 
 stand, followed by the train of foragers, with pack mules 
 carrying poultry, hams, and all kinds of Southern food 
 for man and beast. In the proce.ssion were milch cows, 
 goats, and army pets. Last of all came the "redeemed 
 of the Lord," with songs and everlasting joy upon their 
 heads. They came in whole families, shouting as they led the 
 children, saying, "Glory to God and Massa Sherman." 
 
 The minister from the court of Germany became 
 greatl}^ interested in the scene, as the 15th and 17th corps 
 passed with steady step and perfect demeanor, he said to 
 Bishop Ames, who sat by him on the reviewing stand, 
 bishop, "An army like that could whip all Europe." As 
 
 —177— 
 
the 2oth corps passed he said excitedly, bishop, "An army 
 like that could whip the world." When the 14th had passed 
 with the train of foragers, slapping the bishop on the 
 shoulder, he shouted, "An array like that could whip the 
 devil." 
 
 The crowning day is over and the sun had burned its 
 way into the afternoon as we stacked arms near the Old 
 Soldier's Home, north of the capitol. Here we put up our 
 tents awaiting the final march — "The home stretch." Two 
 weeks passed very pleasantly in eating and sleeping and 
 sight- seeing in the city, with an occasional guard duty. 
 The Christian commission generously donated a supply of 
 pickled onions and canned goods, of which they seemed to 
 have a surplus when the war closed. Squads of four were 
 permitted to stroll in the park or go through the Capitol, 
 with its stately columns. Or by the Treasury, where our 
 "Greenbacks" were to come from. Or on the grounds where 
 we might view the uncertain magnificence of the Presi- 
 dent's mansion. 
 
 All these had a new meaning to us. Had the Union 
 been rent these doubtless would have fallen to the enemy, 
 but now they are ours. Hancock's veteran corps, the 6th, 
 made up of veterans who had re-enlisted for the war, were 
 on guard in the city. Their dress suits were new and of a 
 light blue color, braided, and were handsome, making quite 
 a contrast with the faded blouse of the army of the west^ 
 Everything went smoothly until the question of merit and 
 superiority came up, when one of our boys shouted, "Bull 
 Run," quick as lightning came the retort, "Chickamauga." 
 The discussion ended good naturedly in the exultation cho- 
 rused by all, "We whipped them anyway, didn't we." 
 
 When Sunday came, we put on our best, and like the 
 ship's crew when the captain ordered them aloft, we pol- 
 ished our buttons. On the streets we were impressed with 
 
 —178— 
 
the change of the African in habits and dress. The old 
 mantle of the aristocracy of the South seemed to fall upon 
 the ex-slave. He sported his best, swung his cane, pulled 
 his hat over his eyebrow and gave the old plantation laugh. 
 She was out, flounced, laced and beautified. 
 
 The story of the war contains abundant proof that our 
 black brother did possess a nobler quality than mere animal 
 courage. That he did touch the heroic height that makes 
 life grand, and death a poem. That black color bearer, who 
 planted the flag on the enemy's works at Fort Fisher, who 
 when shot down crept away, bleeding and faint, still bear- 
 ing the flag aloft said, as he sank down, "I never let it 
 touch the ground." That man has at least one foot on the 
 pedestal where stands the white hero of the superior race. 
 
 The mustering ofiicer came June 3rd and mustered us 
 out of the volunteer service. Acting Mustering Officer 
 Lieutenant George Scroggs, of the 125th lUinois of our own 
 brigade, being assigned to that duty. His autograph at the 
 bottom of a little piece of parchment was more valuable 
 than any 160 acres of land, because it had the word Ho7ior- 
 able on it — is known and read by every boy that received it, 
 for its boldness. It does seem sometimes that he v/rote it 
 with a bayonet, but it is none the less valuable to us. 
 
 Of the ten hundred and ninety-two enlisted men borne 
 upon the muster rolls, three hundred and forty-five were 
 mustered out with the regiment. A number of these met 
 us from detail service at Camp Chase for final discharge. Of 
 the Field and Staff Officers, who were mustered when the 
 regiment was organized, not one of them were at the final 
 muster out. 
 
 Of the line officers who held commissions at Camp Den- 
 nison, the following came home with us: Captain Charles 
 W. Clancy, Co. B, promoted to colonel. Captain J. Taylor 
 Holmes, Co. G, promoted to lieutenant colonel. First Lieu- 
 
 — IT'J— 
 
tenants W. H. Bucke, Co. A, Abisha C. Thomas, Co. C, and 
 Samuel C. Hutchinson, Co. F, were promoted to captains of 
 their respective companies and mustered out with them. 
 Second Ivieutenants W. A. Judkins, Co. B, and S. J. Brent, 
 Co. K, were promoted to first Heutenants, but were on de- 
 tached duty most of the time, and were mustered out with 
 the regiment. Two officers, Colonels Clancy and Holmes, 
 were prisoners. 
 
 How we regretted to part from the other regiments of 
 the third brigade. The farewell must be final. We had 
 marched and camped and fought together, for more than a 
 thousand days. Our interests had become mutual and we 
 loved each other as brothers. No jealousies had ever es- 
 tranged us. And we are certain no better material went to 
 the war from the states of Illinois and Indiana than the 
 three regiments from the "Prairie State" and the one from 
 the "Hoosier State," who with our regiment were known as 
 Dan McCook's Brigade of the Fourteenth Corps. These 
 men have nothing but praise for Colonel McCook and his 
 own regiment, the 52nd Ohio. More than half of the bri- 
 gade have died since the war, but we hope to meet the rem 
 nant in a brigade reunion in the near future. 
 
 June the 7th orders came to be ready to move toward the 
 Setting Sun — we are "going home to die no more" — by the cru- 
 el hand of war. We had a wait at the Baltimore and Ohio 
 depot of five hours. Half the sympathy we had bottled up 
 and corked for the government for its delays had evaporated 
 by the time our train came. But it came, not the cozy high 
 top passenger coach like that we rode in to Camp Dennison, 
 but a train of box cars which recalled to mind the boy's 
 prophesy, "When we come back they will let us ride in 
 cattle cars." We were loaded in box cars, labeled 
 "Merchandise" — precious freight; forty men in a car. We 
 
 —180— 
 
thought it only for a night or two, thinking that joy cometh 
 in the morning. 
 
 Morning came and we had not made a hundred miles* 
 Noon came and we were at Point of Rocks. Night came 
 and we pulled into Cumberland, Md., with a promise of 
 supper. All we got was a tin of coffee. Erecting our tent 
 on the top of a flat car and tying a rope around our bodies, 
 fastening one end to the foot-pad. Col. Clancy and I went 
 supperless to bed. Slowly our train crept up the mountain, 
 and just as the morning walked to and fro upon the top of 
 night we woke. Looking down from that mountain top we 
 did not wonder that God gave The Law from Sinai, or that 
 the beatitudes were shed like Herman's dew, from a moun- 
 tain. 
 
 At last we came to the foot and to broader ground, 
 where the valley of the Ohio bears us company. Up the 
 river we slowly traveled, arriving at Bellaire in the evening. 
 The last view we had of the Ohio and our native state was 
 at Covington, Kentucky, in August, '62. 
 
 Crossing over on ferry boats in the evening, we tarried 
 all night on board the cars. Early in the morning of the 
 fourth day we started for Columbus. As the day dawned 
 clear, we thought we could breathe more freely and purely, 
 as we were now in God's country, passing within a few 
 miles of the old home we cherished in our boyhood, as we 
 neared Cambridge. Visions of breakfast prepared by moth- 
 er's hands flashed before me, but it soon vanished. Near- 
 ing Zanesville the boys determined to make a raid on the 
 stores for something to eat, when ofi&cers discovered the plot 
 and our train ran through the city, stopping at the shops 
 just outside the city of Newark, where we were side-tracked 
 and a guard thrown around us, no one being allowed to 
 leave the car. 
 
 —181 — 
 
Soon a crowd of women and boys were tempting us 
 with baskets filled with good things, while not a greenback 
 could be found in the company or regiment. While discuss- 
 ing whether there would be greater honor in suffering the 
 pangs of hunger, than to justify what our consciences knew 
 to be wrong by urging the necessities of the case, a well 
 dressed young man crossed the track and enquired, "What 
 regiment is this?" We told him, and he said, ''Colonel Dan 
 McCook's old regiment, you never need be ashamed of yoii7 
 record." We spoke of our trip home and of hunger. 
 When he purchased every basket with their contents from 
 the venders, paying their price, and set them in the car. I 
 have always regretted that, while every man was, like the 
 prophet's servant, "busy here and there, the man was gone." 
 While each one was looking after his share of the generous 
 and timely gift, the young man with the silk hat and kid 
 gloves slipped away and we never knew who our benefactor 
 was. But away down in our heart of hearts we have depos- 
 ited a share of gratitude for our young friend and cultured 
 gentleman, who had a heart in him as big as a meeting 
 house. 
 
 Arriving at Columbus, we went across to Todd's Bar- 
 racks and sat down to a dinner, furnished by our friends in 
 the city. Governor Brough and others welcomed us back in 
 patriotic eloquence. 
 
 Every man was happy in the thought that we would have 
 a refreshing sleep, that would be unbroken by war's alarms, 
 or the rattle of the train. But, alas, there was a night at- 
 tack. An army of bed bugs, famous for their size, followed 
 by battalion after battalion of grey backs, whose stomachs 
 were as voracious as the men's who stood around the tables 
 that afternoon after a two days' fast. 
 
 We pitched our tents in Camp Chase the next day to 
 await the coming of the man with the iron box. 
 
 —182— 
 
There were about six thousand soldiers who were wait- 
 in^ for a chance to j^ohome. Three fragments of regiments, 
 including our own, were the only organized troops there. 
 The rest were from the prisons of the South, waiting to be 
 mustered out. These men became restless and complained 
 of the delay. Many of them were weak and anxious to get 
 where some one would share with them in their sufferings. 
 Man}' had sent home for money, with which they could buy 
 delicacies and things they had longed for. 
 
 The sutlers inside the grounds were selling these 
 much higher than they could be bought outside. A report 
 had been in circulation that the commander. Gen. Bucking- 
 ham, had an interest in these stores. A few nights after we 
 arrived, there was a noiseless tread about, lo o'clock. A shot, 
 a crash, and the stores were overturned. A soldier was 
 shot, a sutler missing, and never more heard of, the goods 
 were carried away, and not a vestige of them could be found 
 the next morning. 
 
 Fortunately the three regiments had not turned over 
 their arms and the threatening danger from the six thous- 
 and rebel prisoners in the stockade was averted b}' doubling 
 the guards. But these excited and restless men continued 
 to avenge themselves bj^ tearing down the high fence on the 
 west and south, thus, by the bonfire made, they not only 
 consumed the lumber, but consigned to the flames the 
 goods they had taken from the sutler s stores. A regiment 
 of troops from camp Dennison arrived at daylight to find 
 all things quiet. 
 
 The paymaster came Saturday' with deed in hand, 
 signed and sealed, which was to be our passport to a civil- 
 lian's rights of citizenship — an honorable discharge. Be- 
 fore payment, he informed the officers and men that the 
 government had generously deducted nine dollars and 
 forty-five cents from each man's pay to reimbur.se the 
 
 —183— 
 
government and sutlers for the property taken and destroyed 
 by the raiders. The officers and men were indignant. But 
 few of our men participated in the raid, although the whole 
 regiment was in sympathy with the men who had been 
 shamefully mistreated while here in camp as well as in 
 Anderson ville. 
 
 The remonstrance against the reduction was long and 
 loud, the men refusing to touch the money. Late in the 
 afternoon a dispatch came from Edward M. Stanton, secre- 
 tary of war, who had been appealed to early in the morn- 
 ing, ordering the full payment of all dues. 
 
 Each man answered to his name, received his wages for 
 services rendered and one hundred dollars government 
 bounty, pledged to the army by act of Congress, and an Hon- 
 orable Discharge, Adieus were spoken and the 52nd was 
 borne away to their homes. 
 
 It was good bye comrades, good bye officers, good bye 
 blankets, haversacks and canteens. Good bye dear old shel- 
 ter tent. I shall sleep on a bed and eat cooked victuals and 
 live in a house. And now as we live, who are left, and have 
 memories for those who have died and are now encamped 
 "beyond," let us, as we continue our march towards that 
 glorious sunset, keepour eye on theold flag, and as we grow 
 older may we be permitted to encamp in the valley awhile 
 for rest, there to listen for 
 
 TAPS. 
 
 —184— 
 
FIRST LIEUT. C. W. (iKIMES, CO. 0. 
 
 —185— 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 52nd O. V. I. ASSOCIATION. 
 
 THE first annual reunion was held in New Comerstown, 
 Ohio, August 26th. 1875, at which sixty-one members 
 were present. Steps were taken for the organization of an 
 association for the purp )se of holding an annual reunion 
 and taking such action from time to time as may seem pro- 
 per in the interest of the survivors of the regiment, or the 
 families of deceased comrades The organization was com 
 pleted at the reunion held the following year in Steubenville, 
 Ohio, Decen)ber 25th, 1876, which made all who served in 
 the regiment eligible to membership in the association, and 
 the widows of deceased comrades honorary members, their 
 names to be recorded when reported. 
 
 Twenty-four annual meetings have been held. Average 
 attendance about fifty-eight. About three hundred members 
 of the regiment have died since its organization. Captain 
 Samuel Rothacker, was the first president, and S. Iv. Brice, 
 secretary. The annual gatherings are growing in interest. 
 L,et us keep in touch, comrades! J. B. Work, Co. G Room 
 205, Cook County Court House, Chicago, 111., is the present 
 president, and N. B. Stewart, Claysville, Ohio, secretary. 
 
 —18(5— 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ASSOCIATION OF THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF 
 THE REGIMENT. 
 
 THIS association effected an organization at BarnesviUe, 
 Ohio, September 22nd, 1S99, prest^nting the follow- 
 ing constitution, which was adopted, and approved by the 
 regimental Association. 
 
 I St. This organization shall be known as the Sons and 
 Daughters of the 52nd O. V. I. Association. 
 
 2nd The object of this association is to perpetuate and 
 keep fresh in the memories of the children of the men who 
 enlisted in the 52nd regiment, the service and deeds of valor 
 of all honorably discharged members of said regiment and 
 of those who gave their lives in the war of the Rebellion. 
 
 3rd, Its member.ship shall consist of the sons and 
 daughters of all honorably discharged soldiers of the 52nd O. 
 V. I. There shall be no limit to age. 
 
 4th. All applications for membership shall be made to 
 the secretary of this association, who shall ascertain from 
 the secretary of the 52nd O. V. I. Association as to eligibil- 
 ity to membership. 
 
 5th. The officers of this association shall consist of a 
 president, vice-president, secretary and treasurer. The office 
 of secretary and treasurer may be combined. The president 
 shall preside at all meetings and perform such duties as are 
 prescribed by the rules governing the office of President of 
 the Regimental Association. 
 
 —187— 
 
In like manner all other oflfices of the association shall 
 be filled. The offices vacant shall be filled by the members 
 present. 
 
 6th. The meetings of this association shall be held 
 upon the same date as the annual reunion of the regiment 
 and at the same place, and shall be governed, and its records 
 approved, by the regimental association before such records 
 shall be made official. 
 
 7th. The officers shall be elected annually and hold 
 their offices until their successors are elected and notice of 
 their acceptance given the Regimental secretary of the asso- 
 ciation. 
 
 This constitution shall go into effi^ct when approved by 
 both organizations. 
 
 Let all comrades send the names of their children to 
 the secretary for enrollment. 
 
 ly. Ruth Work, 
 Mrs. Mame Porter, 
 Charles H. Stewart, 
 Committee. 
 
 —188— 
 
THE ORGANIZATION. 
 
 COMPANY A. 
 
 COMPA NY A was from Van Wert and Paulding counties. 
 Capt. Clark was from Van Wert city, where he died in 
 1883. Lieut. Bucke was from Dayton, and now lives at 304 
 Fourth avenue. New York. He was mustered out as Cap- 
 tain. The whereabouts of lyieuts. Kaufman and Dunham 
 are unknown. Lieut. Lane was mustered out with Co. E- 
 Lieut. Adam Knecht was on detached duty, and died in 
 Dayton in 1892. The Company mustered ninetj^ three men. 
 They were excellent fighters and always did good work on 
 the skirmish line. Nineteen of the company were killed or 
 wounded, and thirty-four were mustered out with the regi- 
 ment. We have kept in touch with the living, and they of- 
 ten speak of their brave men, who fell, on the Atlanta cam- 
 paign, and of the living, who are honored citizens, we know 
 the Scott brothers, the Baxters, Frank Leslie and John L Ca- 
 ble, of Van Wert, O., Corporal James Conway, of Mechan. 
 icsburg, O., who always suggests a prayer for Col. Dan Mc- 
 Cook's soul when he sends his annual greeting to the boys. 
 S. B. Marshall died in Agosta, a few years ago, where he 
 was located in the practice of medicine. A number of the 
 company cannot be located, they are "Only remem- 
 bered for what they have done." 
 
 —189— 
 
COMPANY B. 
 
 Company B was recruited in Smithfield and Mt. Pleas- 
 ant, in Jefferson county, with just one hundred and three 
 men. Dr. C. W. Clancy was the captain. He was twenty- 
 nine years old, as brave and true a man as ever drew a 
 sword. He was succeeded in command of the company by 
 Captain Sturgis, who was wounded at Resaca, and dis- 
 charged in August on account of the disability incurred. 
 The Captain lives near California, Mo. r.ieut. W. A Jud- 
 kins was on detached duty as a member of Gen. Mason's 
 staff. He shares the confidence of the citizens of Smithfield, 
 as he grows older in the honorous duties of church and state. 
 The Company was originally recruited for the gSth Ohio. 
 Seventy-one were from Smithfield and thirty-two from Mt. 
 Pleasant. They reported to Col Webster at Mingo, and 
 found Col. Dan McCook, there with an order for the transfer 
 to the 52nd Ohio. They were a fine looking set of men, not 
 a man under eighteen, or over forty- five, the average being 
 twenty-four and a fraction. Twenty four of the company 
 are buried in the South, and thirty-eight were mustered out 
 with the regiment. Samuel Orimshaw wears a medal from 
 the government for bravery at Kenesaw. Of the dead, they 
 were the bravest and the best. Of the living, year by year 
 they grow dearer to us, for the ties were welded in the fires 
 of battle. There wereMhe Flemming's and Mercer's and 
 Kirk's and Harrison's. J.^C. was the first to enlist in the 
 company, and got an empty sleeve at "Buzzard's Glory," 
 and has found favor at home, having served twenty-one 
 years as postmaster. Towering among the boys of the 
 Company was good-natured Jim McDonald. But I must 
 not dwell, I am only to confess and not boast. 
 
 —190— 
 
COMPANY C. 
 
 Company C was recruited in Belmont county, Barnes- 
 ville, Somerton and Boston furnishing most of the men. 
 Dr. Moffitt, Captain; Abisha C. Thomas, First Lieutenant 
 and E. E. Mills, Second Lieutenant. Dr. Moffitt resigned 
 at Nashville, and Captain Thomas was at the head of the 
 Company and in the thickest of the fight, while the war 
 lasted, and not a hair of his head was touched, and he still 
 lives honored and beloved by every surviving member of 
 the regiment. 
 
 The Company mustered eighty-nine men, average age, 
 twenty-six; oldest, fifty -one; youngest, sixteen. Of the 
 Company that fell on bloody Kenesavv, most of them were 
 color guards. Will Bradfield, Fenton Carter and Linley 
 Street were around the old flag until it reached the hill top. 
 Twenty-nine of the Company were killed or wounded. Few 
 of them died in the hospital, indicating that they came from 
 the headwaters of "Captina." They were brave and good 
 men, deserving the honors they won. Christopher W. 
 Grimes rose from the ranks to Brevet Captain. He lives 
 near New Matamoras, O. For twenty years he cared for his 
 aged mother, her afflictions affecting both body and mind, 
 requiring his constant care, for which he deserves great 
 honor. 
 
 Captain Grimes, who with the Company, marched and 
 fought to Atlanta and to the .sea, speaks of tho.se who died, as 
 living, because they died that the nation might live. The Cap- 
 tain draws upon his recollection of the men, as they one by one 
 pass before him. He speaks of Thomas, who never was 
 gloomy, in the darkest hour brave and loyal was he. Of 
 Starbuck, the hero of Bentonville. He takes us back to the 
 campfire, and fancies he hears "Flick" Hunt cussing and 
 discussing the same subject, a Hunt that was always ready 
 to hunt the enemy. And the "six-footer," patient Billy 
 
 —191— 
 
Carter, who always had tobacco. And the small and neat 
 Fenton Carter, who fell at Resaca, and sleeps now at Chat- 
 tanooga. Of James Lynne, wounded on the enemy's works 
 at Kenesaw, now living at Cumberland, O. But we cannot 
 speak personally of all. However, I must tell you that the 
 Captain writes words of love and friendship, thanking all for 
 what they did for him and their country, hoping all who are 
 living may "fight the good fight of faith" and be ready for 
 the last roll call. 
 
 COMPANY D. 
 
 Company D was from Tuscarawas county, New Phila- 
 delphia and New Comerstowii furnishing most of the men. 
 It mustered one hundred and five and was ofiicered by Captain 
 M. L Morrow, ist Lieut. John H. Collier, 2nd lyieut. S. M. 
 Neighbor. Capt, Morrow received his commission as Major 
 to date from March 8, 1863, but Col. McCook did not like 
 him and ordered the adjutant to give no papers that would 
 enable him to be mustered. When the field and staff mus- 
 ter rolls were ready to sign, the Captain signed his name as 
 Major Commanding instead of Captain Commanding. He 
 was a splendid penman and with a flourish wrote the word 
 Major over the word Captain. The rolls were sent to Bri- 
 gade headquarters and in ten minutes Colonel McCook was on 
 his way to Nashville, to telegraph to Gov. Todd. A commis- 
 sion came for Capt. Holmes, and he was mustered as Major, 
 Morrow resigned, and in a short time was made a Major in 
 in the pay master's department, thus securing one of the 
 best positions in the army. 
 
 But the regiment secured a man as Major who was 
 honored by every man in the regiment. Morrow died short- 
 ly after the war. lyieut. Collier resigned July 29, 1863, and 
 lived to be an old man, dying in Topeka, Kansas, in 1899, 
 aged 81. 
 
 —192— 
 
Lieut. Neighbor was promoted to Captain and fell at 
 Kenesaw, mortally wounded, dying in Chattanooga, July 7, 
 1864. Capt. Neighbor was a brave and efficient officer, be- 
 loved by his men and fellow officers. He never failed or 
 faltered in duty. A few of his men could not write and he 
 did not like marks on the pay roll. These men were in- 
 structed by the Captain at his tent, until most of them could 
 write to friends at home. In all their needs he was a 
 friend and counselor. Up to the slope of the mountain he led 
 his company that morning at Kenesaw. When near the 
 summit he sank with his dead and dying comrades, his right 
 lung pierced by a bullet — his life work done, his mission and 
 calling fulfilled. His brother, David Neighbor, who was 
 commissioned 2nd Lieut, in 1863, h^d his right leg crushed 
 in a collision on the railway at La Vergne, Tennessee. He 
 was totally disabled for the service and was discharged. 
 When Captain Neighbor fell, the command of the company 
 rested on ist. Sergeant William P. Mulvane. Until the 
 close of that campaign, "Finn," as he is called, was an 
 excellent soldier. He is an honored citizen of New Comers- 
 sown, Ohio, at the present time. He resists the encroach- 
 ments of old age, — is surrounded with the good things of 
 this life, still keeping in touch with his comrades, who fol- 
 lowed, with him, the old flag. 
 
 Capt. James M. Summers, promoted from Company H, 
 took command of Company D at Savannah. He was popu- 
 lar with his company, a good soldier, and gave his life fight- 
 ing for the old flag at Averysboro, on March 16, 1865. His 
 wound was almost similar to the fatal wound of Captain 
 Neighbor. He is buried at Newberne, N. C. 
 
 The command fell upon First Lieut. W. H. Ray, who 
 was mustered out with the company. "Harvey" still lives 
 and has spent the years since the close of the war as Super- 
 intendent of the public schools at Uhrichsville, New Phila- 
 
 — 193- 
 
delphia, and Carrollton, Ohio, where he now lives and fills 
 the position. 
 
 Company D lost more men than any company in the 
 regiment. Nineteen were killed or died from wounds, 
 twenty- six were wounded, fourteen died of disease in the 
 hospital, and thirty-four were mustered out with the com- 
 pany. The company is before me today, and most of their 
 faces are familiar. There is Lowmiller, who was a recruit, 
 and fell at Dallas. There is Johnny Sill, how his poor 
 mother used to come to our reunions, while she lived, and 
 listen to stories of her brave boy's death, as he went up 
 Kenesaw, hat in one hand, and gun in the other. And I 
 see poor Francis Grace, who fell on the breast works, and 
 James Beard, so young and loyal. Then Armstrong and 
 Daugherty and Shackle, all of whom lay in the sun that 
 afternoon mortally wounded. I then turn to the living, 
 whose foreheads are wrinkled and locks are gray. There 
 are the two Neighbor boys, George and Theodore. George 
 was a priosner at Peach Tree, and in Andersonville six 
 months, and "Dode," as we called him, came out with as 
 vivid a recollection of what he saw, as any man in the ar- 
 my. He is a well-to do merchant of New Comerstown, O. 
 He never misses a reunion. He has two excellent qualities, 
 he loves home, has an excellent family, and he loves the 
 boys who saved our country. Jehu Peck came home, settled 
 down as a shoe merchant in New Comerstown, Ohio, and 
 is a clean, christian geutleman, the kind of a man that 
 makes a good citizen. There is Gilbert L,. Patterson, with 
 the best of a record as a soldier and citizen, as well. And 
 John Smith, a cheerful, whole-souled companion, who, be- 
 cause of his smooth, boyish face, was known as "Kate." 
 There was John Kirk with his big knapsack, and Anthony 
 Hartley the great forager. The rebs captured him at Fenn's 
 bridge, loaded with chickens and forage of all kinds. I re- 
 
 —194— 
 
..-<«» 
 
 LIEUT. A. B. MOINTYRE, CO. K 
 
 —195- 
 
fer with pride to the record of Sergeant John W. Baltzley, 
 so brave, he lay against the earthworks at Kenesaw, when 
 they pulled him over, and he was a prisoner until the close 
 of the war. He lived and died in Zanesville, Ohio. Thirty- 
 three have died since the war. 
 
 COMPANY K. 
 
 Company E was recruited by three men, Parker A. El- 
 son at Steubenville, Alexander Smith at New Alexandria 
 and H. O. Mansfield at Bloomfield in Jefferson county. 
 We had one hundred and six men. The average age of 
 these men was twenty-three. The oldest man enlisted was 
 Harmon Hukill. He is now living near Claysville, Ohio, at 
 the advanced age of 84 years. The youngest, Frank Car- 
 nahan, is fifty-three. The company had thirteen killed and 
 thirty-four wounded. Thirty-eight have died since the war. 
 Captain Elson was a jolly good fellow. He was in Cali- 
 fornia six years, came home and worked as a contractor and 
 builder. He died in Steubenville in 1886 at the age of sixty- 
 one. 
 
 Lieut. Alexander Smith resigned and came home in 
 January '63. He was Captain in the one-hundred day 
 service, and was elected Sheriff of Jefferson county, serving 
 two terms. He died in New Alexandria in August 1897. 
 
 Henry O. Mansfield recruited about thirty men and 
 there was a contest between he and Patrick Shannon of 
 Steubenville for 2nd Lieut. It was left to the company to 
 elect and Mansfield was elected and commissioned. He was 
 promoted to Captain after the battle of Stone river and led 
 the company until he was wounded in the charge at Kene- 
 saw, which disabled him for further service. He .settled in 
 Scio, O., was respected and honored by all who knew him. 
 His service, which continued almost two years, was honor- 
 
 —196— 
 
able and he had the confidence of his men. He died in 1896, 
 aged sixty two. 
 
 Lieut. James H. Donaldson commanded the company 
 from Kenesaw to Peach Tree creek, w'. ere he fell to rise no 
 more. His body was removed to Steubenville, O., where it 
 lies in the soldiers' lot. 
 
 Sergeant E. T. Hanlon took command at Peach Tree 
 and continued with the company until Sherman left for the 
 sea coast. Lieut A. B. Mclntyre led the company to 
 Savannah, where W. H. Lane was promoted from ist 
 Lieut of Co. A, to Captain and transferred to our company. 
 The Captain was wounded at Peach Tree. He was high- 
 ly respected by all the members of the Company. He 
 won the hearts of the men by his courage and kindness. 
 He came to the regiment from Chicago, enlisted in Co. A 
 as a private carried a gun, and by his bravery and excel- 
 lent character, rose from the ranks to Captain, on his own 
 merits. He was mustered out with the company and lives 
 at Bellfontaine, O. 
 
 We were proud of the company while in the service 
 and have reason to know that they have been the same loyal 
 citizens of this great country. Many of them have filled 
 positions of honor, and credit to themselves. Lieut. Mc- 
 lntyre has filled the office of Sheriff of Morgan county, 
 Lieut. Smith of Jefferson county, A. C. Blackburn Auditor 
 of Jefferson county and John C. Brown was three times 
 elected treasurer of Jefferson county and three times treas- 
 urer of the state of Ohio. 
 
 Seventy out of the one-hundred and eighteen enlisted 
 men are dead. The forty-eight living can truly say, "They 
 have kept the faith," and await tlie crowning day. Every 
 comrade in the company is worthy of special mention, but we 
 cannot encroach upon the space allotted in this small vol- 
 ume. Yet every comrade, like the Master, took his special 
 
 —197— 
 
friends up into the mountain apart, so we cannot refrain 
 from mentioning those in whom we especially confided. 
 
 There was "Joe" Thompson, twice severely wounded. 
 We fell together and alone on the picket line. We have ever 
 felt as brothers. He is still living near Steubenville, O. 
 We entered the ministry in 1868, and for thirty-two years 
 have watched with great interest the lives of these men. 
 Tommy Thompson, the Mansfield and Moore brothers, Da- 
 vid M. Scott, who lost an arm, and Geo. W. Chalfant, who 
 left a leg at bloody Peach Tree, B. H. Maxwell, and a score 
 of others whose army record is of the highest character. 
 
 COMPANY F. 
 
 Company F was recruited in Belmont county and 
 mustered ninety-eight men. The average age was twenty- 
 seven. Captain Donaldson and ist Lieut. Irwin resigned in 
 the spring of sixty-three, and Captain Samuel C. Hutchinson 
 commanded the company to the end. The company were 
 efficient skirmishers and did most of the skirmishing for 
 the brigade. Their loss was twenty-three killed and wound- 
 ed. Captain Hutchinson lives near Milan, Sullivan county, 
 Mo., and has served as sheriff and treasurer of his county. 
 Captain S. L. Brice was promoted from Corporal to ist 
 lyieut. of his company and served as Quartermaster and 
 Adjutant with great acceptability. He is on the Kditorial 
 staff of the Wheeling Register, and has served four years as 
 city solicitor. 
 
 Julius Armstrong was promoted to ist lyieut. and com- 
 manded Company H at the close of the war. He now re- 
 sides in Columbus, O. All of the men of the company , 
 who saw service, deserve personal mention. There was 
 the Hammond's, Gillespie's, Gates and Vandyne brothers, 
 and Doty's, all good soldiers, and among the many who fol- 
 
 —198— 
 
lowed the old flag through to the end and came home with 
 it, was Peter Giffin, who still lives in Flushing, O., to help 
 keep the camp fires burning, and b}^ his honesty and upright 
 life to bless any community in wliich he may reside. 
 
 COMPANY G. 
 
 Company G was recruited in Jefferson county, with one 
 hundred men and three officers. The company received 
 eight recruits while in the service. Thirty-eight are living, 
 and seventy-four are dead. Twenty-eight were students 
 in Richmond College. One of the comrades of that com- 
 pany writes me that "tlie men were above the average intel- 
 lectually. Of those who came home, those who abused 
 themselves by drink and lived recklessly, are all dead but 
 one." The writer is personally acquainted with nearly all 
 of the sur\i\'v)rs, and knows they are men of excellent char- 
 acter. Captain Rothacker still lives in Richmond, O., and 
 has an extensive practice as a physician. He has recently 
 passed through a great trial in the death of his son, 
 John D. Rothacker, who was accidentally killed. The Cap- 
 tain was a brave soldier, and beloved by his men. He had 
 a dread of being wounded and sent to the hospital, and made 
 arrangements, if such a thing occurred, to be cared for by 
 the surgeon of the regiment in the field Lieut. Addison M. 
 Marsh resigned in 1863 He was a printer by trade, and 
 died in New Philadelphia. O., in 1892 at the age of 52. 
 Second Lieut. David F. Miser was wounded at Kenesaw, 
 and died on Lookout Mountain nineteen days after the battle. 
 Lemuel W. Duff was promoted from Company B, and com- 
 manded the company through the march northward from 
 Savannah. 
 
 Men of note in Church and State came from this com- 
 pany. A. R. Holmes has been Auditor of Tuscarawas 
 county, and has held the office of U. S. Postoffice Inspector 
 
 —199— 
 
continuously for the last fourteen years. T. H. Montgom- 
 er}" has been Sheriff of Jefferson county and is a prosperous 
 business man of Toronto, O. Andrew M. Stevenson has 
 been Superintendent of the Wheeling public schools for al- 
 most thirtj' j-ears. J. B. Work is in Chicago in one of the 
 Cook county offices, where he has held a position for years. 
 
 Montgomery was the tallest man, Rhinehart the best 
 forager, Gosset the tailor, Joe Swan the blacksmith. Joe 
 died in Victor, Colorado, in April, 1900. Copeland, the man 
 with the long whiskers, reaching down to his waist. The 
 company had 29 killed and wounded, and made an excellent 
 record in rank and file. 
 
 COMPANY H. 
 
 Company H. was recruited mostly in Cincinnati. A 
 number of recruits came from Fairfield county. Captain 
 Culbertson served four months, resigned, and died since the 
 war closed. Captain Charles Swift served on Brigade staff, 
 resigned in April, 1865, and died in Cincinnati. Lieut 
 James M.Summers was promoted to Captain of Co. D. Jul- 
 ius Armstrong, First Lieut, of Company F, commanded the 
 company through Sherman's march, and was mustered out 
 with the company. Gossler Rudolf was mustered out as 
 First Sergt., and lives in Cincinnati. "Lud" Mills was noted as 
 the jolly laugher of the regiment. Samuel A. Harper lives 
 at Elm wood, 111. He has filled the office of Department 
 Commander of the G. A. R. in his state, and is a prosperous 
 man of his city. James C. Michie was commissioned as 
 Captain in the Regular Army, returned home, and has been 
 Quartermaster of the Dayton Soldiers' Home for a number 
 of years. We have not been able to find the men of Co. H 
 since the war. Only nine of the company are known to the 
 writer to be living. 
 
 —200— 
 
COMPANY I. 
 
 Company I was recruited principally in Cleveland. 
 Painesville and the Western Reser\-e, and mustered 
 ninety-two men, with three recruits. Only nine of the 
 company are known certain to be living. Capt. P. C. 
 Schneider fell at Peach Tree and is buried in Cleveland. 
 He was a brave .soldier. Frank B. James was promoted to 
 Captain from Co. K, and commanded the company until 
 mustered out. He enlisted as a private in Co. K and was 
 commissioned as Lieut, in 1863 and Captain in 1S64, and to 
 brevet major when mustered out. 
 
 The Capt. served in an expedition from Cincinnati to 
 build the Paducah bridge, and was captured at the fight at 
 Cynthiana and escaped. The members of Co. I speak in 
 the highest terms of his bravery and efficiency as a com- 
 manding officer. He lives in Cincinnati. 
 
 Lieut. George A. Masury served on the Colonel's staff. 
 Lieut Ira H. Pool was an M. E. minister of the Central 
 Ohio Conference, having been in the ministry two years. 
 He was a brave officer. Was mortally wounded at Kenesaw 
 and died July 30th and is buried at Chattanooga. 
 
 Lieut. Edwin T. Donaldson was discharged after the 
 battle of Perry ville for disability and is an honored citizen 
 of Painesville, O. ist Sergeant Howell B. Treat came 
 home with the company and is an honored citizen of Paines- 
 ville. He wears a medal for bravery at Kenesaw. 
 
 Albert Button has served two terms as sheriff of Lake 
 county, O., and lives in Painesville. Newton H. Bostwick, 
 whose bravery and capture is narrated in the history of 
 Kenesaw, lives in Chardon, O. 
 
 The company lost 34 in killed and wounded and bore a 
 conspicuous part in the regiment's history. 
 
 —201— 
 
COMPANY K, 
 
 Company K was recruited in Cincinnati with quite a 
 number of men from the river towns near the city. Only 
 seven of the company are known to the writer to be living. 
 The company was so reduced at the review at Washington 
 that it marched with Co E The loss in killed and wound- 
 ed was thirty one out of 96 men in the start Capt Bloom 
 served four months, resigned and is still living, an inmate 
 of the Dayton Soldiers' Home. Capt Ed. L. Anderson 
 was a member of McCook's staff, was mustered out with 
 the company and lives in Cincinnati. The Captain is an 
 arti.st of note and has spent a good part of his time in Eu- 
 rope. Lieut. Samuel J. Brent was on detached duty most 
 of the time, but was mustered out with the company. He 
 has served as Auditor of Knox county and is located in 
 business in Columbus, O. 
 
 Horace B. Church .served in the Company until the war 
 closed, enlisted in the Regular Army, had both feet frozen 
 on the plains and they were amputated. He died suddenly 
 in Granville, O , June 5, 1900. Henry Koch was wounded 
 at Kenesaw, and is ending his days in the State Soldiers' 
 Home at Sandusky. "Jack" Jeffers lives at Steese, O. He 
 He was a terror to the officers, also to the rebels. He was 
 in every battle of the regiment and came out without a 
 scratch The company did excellent service, winning lau- 
 rels in every battle for the Union. 
 
 Thirty-two members of the Regiment have been ad- 
 mitted to the Dayion Home. Of that number fourteen have 
 died. There were eight in the Home April ist, 1900. 
 
 The following have died in the State Soldiers' Home, 
 Eriecounty,0., Richard Blodgett, Co. I, Eieut. Add M Marsh, 
 Co. G, and Fred Siebert, Co. I. Admitted and discharged, 
 John Barkheimer, Co. B, Edward Conley, Co, H, Samuel 
 
 —202— 
 
Hardy, Co. H, David A. Roe, Co. A, and Byron Smith, Co. 
 K. Present in the Home, May ist, iqoo, George Davis, Co. 
 E, Stewart Doty, Co. F, and Henry Koch, Co. K 
 
 As mustered we had nine hundred and eighty-one men, 
 fourteen Field and Staff Officers, and thirty line officers, 
 these, with the recrtiits. make a total of 1104. Fourteen 
 were commissioned by promotion from the ranks. Of the 
 fifty-five commissioned officers, thirty five resigned, eight 
 were killed or died of wounds, three were di.sabled by 
 wounds and discharged, eighteen were wounded and re- 
 turned to the Regiment. Not one of the fifty-five officers 
 died of disease while in the service. Assistant Surgeon A. 
 J. Rosa died from an overdose of morphine. 
 
 —203— 
 
SEKGT. D. 31. SCOTT, CO. E. 
 
 —204 — 
 
ROSTER 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FIFTY-SECOND 0. \'. I. 
 
 IX preparing the roster for this volume, with the limited 
 space at my command, I shall be compelled to abandon 
 the usual method of Company record, and condense as to 
 service, a classified arrangement bs- companies, and, if pos- 
 sible, account for ever}' name found upon the rolls. To 
 make a perfect roster would be a manifest impossibilitA*. 
 There will be mistakes and omissions, for which no person 
 can be blamed. And to those who survive, we submit the 
 result of our labor, and await \-our verdict. 
 
 FIELD AND STAFF. 
 Colonel Daniel McCook entered the service as a captain 
 of the shield guards, a part of the First Kansas Regiment, 
 and served under General Lyon at Wilson's Creek. Was 
 chief of staff of the First Division of the armj- of the Ohio at 
 Shiloh, and received his commission as Colonel of the 52nd 
 Ohio, July 15th, 1S62. He was mortally wounded June 
 27th, 1864. in the assault on Kenesaw Mountain, Ga. . and 
 died at Steuben ville. O., July 17th, 1864 and was buried at 
 Spring Grove Cemetery*, Cincinnatti, O. He was the 5ixth 
 son of a family of nine boys, and was bom in Carrollton, O.. 
 in 1834. The father and eight sons were soldiers in the 
 Civil War. All did valiant service for their couutr>-. Our 
 brave Colonel Dan was promoted to the rank of Brigadier 
 
 — 2L6— 
 
General, an honor which he refused to accept the day before 
 his death. Colonel VIcCook read law with Clarence M Sew- 
 ard, and was at one time a law partner of Edward M. Stan- 
 ton He was proud of his regiment, also of the number of 
 the regiment. He often referred to the History of the 52nd, 
 an English regiment, which fought from Hindoostan to Wat- 
 erloo, and would say to the boys, "Eet us keep up the re- 
 cord." With tears and wreaths for our brave Dan, who is 
 in the eternal bivouac, we wait to join him at the trumpet 
 call. 
 
 Col. John J. McCook, the youngest of Colonel Dan's 
 brothers, enlisted at the age of seventeen in the 6th Ohio 
 Cavalry, was promoted to First Lieutenant, and was with us 
 as a member of General Crittenden's staff at Perryville. 
 He served in Gen. Grant's campaign in the east, and was 
 dangerously wounded at Shady Grove, Va. He was pro. 
 moted to Lieutenant Colonel for meritorious conduct, and 
 still survives. He and his brother, Gen. A. McDowell Mc- 
 Cook, are all that are left of a large famliy. He is an attor- 
 ney, practicing in the city of New York, and was prominent- 
 ly mentioned for a place in President McKinley's Cabinet. 
 The Regimental Association has made him an honorary 
 member of its organization. 
 
 Lieut. Col. D. D. T. Cowen, a son of Judge B. S. Cowen, 
 of Belmont county, Ohio, was thirty-six when commissioned. 
 He was admitted to the bar the day he was twenty-one, and 
 was a leader in his profession. He commanded the regiment 
 on the Kentucky campaign. Your historian was, perhaps, 
 as well acquainted with Col. Cowen as any man in the regi- 
 ment. He was intellectual, fatherly, courteous, quiet and 
 uncommunicative. The men of the regiment did not know 
 him. His dear wife was dying with consumption, with five 
 small boys and a girl, all helpless. She wrote, pleadingly, 
 for him to come home. As I entered his tent at Nashville, 
 
 —206— 
 
I found him weeping. He handed me a letter. I said to 
 him, "Colonel, no man in the regiment will blame you." 
 He resigned Feb. iSth, 1S63. Eight days after he arrived 
 at his home he buried the mother. He lived an honored 
 citizen of St, Clairsville, and joined his loved one in April, 
 1889. 
 
 Lieut. Col. Charles W. Clancy was promoted from Cap- 
 tain of Company B. Feb. 18, 1863, and to Brevet Colonel 
 May 31, 1865. No man in the regiment had a better re- 
 cord. A physician b}^ profession, a soldier in spirit and bear- 
 ing. Of his soldier life I cannot dwell. You all know how 
 he received his promotion at Nashville. How sad when the 
 enemy dragged him from his position at Peach Tree, fight- 
 ing with his face to the front against great odds. How the 
 welkin went up when he returned at Atlanta and led us down 
 to the sea. In every battle his sword flashed to revenge the 
 slaughter of his countrymen. He came home, entered upon 
 his profession, served with honor as representative in the 
 legislature, and died in Smithfield, O , at the age of 58 years. 
 
 Major Israel D. Clark was promoted from Capt. of Co. 
 A, and resigned March 8th, 1863, and died in Van Wert, 
 Ohio, in 1883. 
 
 Major J. Taylor Holmes was promoted to Major from 
 Captain of Co G, March 8th, (863, and was promoted to 
 Lieutenant Colonel, Jan. 2,1, 1865, but not mustered. Was 
 mustered out with the regiment as Brevet Lieutenant Col- 
 onel. Major Holmes was a born gentleman, scholar and 
 soldier. He was publicly and officially complimented for 
 his bravery and efficiency in drill and tactics and was per- 
 haps as well known as any other officer of equal rank in the 
 14th Corps, for his equestrian appearance on the march, or 
 on the field of battle. Major Holmes, as we still call him, 
 was captured at Lexington, Ky,, while sick, and was a pris- 
 oner for three months. He was wounded while leading the 
 
 —207— 
 
Regiment at Jonesboro. He was mustered out with the 
 regiment, entered the law practice, and lives in the city of 
 Columbus, O. By frugality and hard work, he is able to 
 welcome a beautiful old age, which is slowly coming on. 
 He is a loyal Christian soldier and frequently fills the pulpit 
 of the Broad Street M. E. Church, of which he is an honored 
 member. Comrades desiring to find him can call on, or ad- 
 dress him, in the National Bank Building, South High street, 
 Columbus, O. 
 
 Surgeon Morse resigned May 9th, 1863, and his subse- 
 quent history is unknown, 
 
 Assistant Surgeon H. M. Duff was from Galion, O. He 
 was frail in body, but an excellent surgeon. He resigned at 
 Atlanta, and died at Galion, O., in 1876. 
 
 Surgeon N. S. Hill was promoted from Assistant Sur- 
 geon of the i2ist Ohio to Surgeon of the 52nd, October 
 28th, 1864, and died at Neville, O., April 13th, 1896. The 
 regiment was very indignant at his promotion and accept- 
 ance over Assistant Surgeon S. A. Simpson. We know 
 nothing of Surgeon Hill's life and death, only that he died 
 and his body was cremated at Cincinnati, O. 
 
 Assistant Surgeon S. A. Simpson came to us May loth, 
 1864. He won the respect and confidence of the regiment 
 and was mustered out with us and died shortly after the 
 war closed. 
 
 Adjutant Charles H. Blackburn resigned November 
 26th, 1862. His record was excellent, while in the service. 
 He is a prominent attorney in Cincinnatti, O. He has been 
 a partner of General Green B. Raum and has the record of 
 being the best criminal lawyer in Ohio. 
 
 Adjutant George A. Masury was appointed from First 
 Lieutenant of Co. I, December 25th, 1862. He was a 
 young man of military bearing, an expert in company and 
 squad drill. He was frail in body and consequently was 
 
 —208— 
 
not ctedited with a brave heart in the hour of battle. He died 
 shortly after the war, and is buried in Painesville, O. 
 
 Quartermaster Israel Fisher resigned November 20th, 
 1862, and we have no record, since the war. 
 
 Quartermaster J. J. Troxell resigned in 1864. 
 
 Quartermaster Isaac Stokes was promoted from the 
 ranks to Commissary Sergeant, and to Quartermaster, 
 November 18, 1864 and mustered out with the regiment. 
 Captain Stokes is perhaps the most remarkable man in the 
 regiment. He inlisted in the 70th Ohio, Co. I, and when 
 his son John S. Stokes enlisted in Co H, 52nd Ohio, the 
 father was transferred to our regiment. He gave his age as 
 36. His son was 30. Both were mustered out with the 
 regiment. The son died many years ago. The Captain 
 lives at 1130 Vine street, Cincinnati, O., at the age of 93. 
 He was 55 when he enlisted. He is somewhat of a poet, 
 having composed many of the songs sung by old Tommy 
 Paine of the same company. Captain Stokes attended the 
 National Encampment at Philadelphia in 1899 and can re- 
 late the incidents and experiences with the accuracy of a 
 veteran of fift5^ 
 
 Chaplain A. L. Pett}^ served with the regiment five 
 months. Jealousy on the part of one of the line officers of 
 the regiment, who prejudiced the officers and men against 
 him, made it hard for the Chaplain in the start, but we be- 
 lieve he has the- confidence and esteem of the survivors of 
 the regiment, as a man and minister. He has filled the 
 best appointments in his conference .since his return, and 
 retires from active service in the ministry, to his country 
 home near Duncan's Falls, O., beloved and respected by all 
 who knew him. 
 
 Chaplain J. S. Keagle came to the regiment at lyce and 
 Gordon's Mills, and left us when Atlanta was taken. He 
 died at Columbus, O., in 1894 at the age of sixty-two. He 
 
 —209— 
 
withdrew from the ministry on his return home and spent 
 part of his subsequent life in the Dayton Soldiers' Home. 
 
 Sergeant Major William Freeman was an Englishman. 
 He was wounded at Kenesaw Mountain, by a pick handle 
 being thrown over by the enemy, from which injury he was 
 discharged and died in 1865 i" Cleveland, O. 
 
 W. D. Scott, Quartermaster Sergeant, was mustered out 
 with the regiment and lives an honored citizen of Denver, 
 Colorado. 
 
 James Knisely, Drum Major, has an excellent record. 
 He is living in New Philadelphia, O., always attends the 
 reunions of the regiment and brings with him the tenor drum 
 he carried three years in the service. He is proud of the two 
 bullet holes the enemy put through the drum. He was a 
 member of the regimental band. 
 
 THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES. 
 COMPANY A. 
 
 Killed or died of wounds: Andrus Bowers, Jacob 
 Elder, J. W. Rutan, at Atlanta; J. W. Harper, Jesse Rob- 
 erts, at Peach Tree. 
 
 Died of disease in the hospital at Nashville: Anthony 
 M. Bowers, John Bush, George W. Beck, Matthias Den- 
 man, I^ester B Foust, James J, Jackson, Isaac N. Johnson 
 and Solomon Hunsacker; at Bowling Green, Ky., Daniel 
 Shrum. 
 
 COMPANY B. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds: John T. Fowler, Wil- 
 liam F. Carson, Kenesaw; L. D. Mercer, Henry Bargar, James 
 C. Haynes, Peach Tree; Robert N. Mercer, Jonesboro; 
 William M. Fleming, Averysboro. Alfred Downard, cap- 
 tured at Chickamauga, died in Andersonville. 
 
 —210— 
 
Died in the hospital at Nashville: James Shane, 
 Benjamin F. Brown, Matthias F. Blackburn, Elijah M. 
 Caldwell, George W. Chambers, David Daily, David B. 
 Durbin, Thomas Hunter, Charles S. Miller, James R. 
 Nation, Edwin R. Worthington. 
 
 Died at Bowling Green: Samuel Mustard, William 
 Hajmes, and John W. Worthington; at Savannah, Georgia: 
 Henry B. Anderson; at Gallatin, Tennessee, Joseph Blazier. 
 
 COMPANY C. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds, William J. Bradfield, 
 James Evans, Linley H. Street, at Kenesaw; Fenton C. 
 Carter, W. F. Beatty, at Peach Tree; Alfred Brister, at 
 Jonesboro; James Chance, at Goldsboro; Boyd Forbes, 
 William F. Lewis, at Resacca. 
 
 Died in the hospital at Nashville, Geo. W. Campbell, 
 Mordeica Carter, John Forbes, Asbury Malone, John Malone 
 and Isaac Stidd. Died at Bentonville, John W. Barnes and 
 Emmer B. Clifford, at Harrodsburgh, Ky.; George Gold- 
 ing and Havener Chapman, at Bowling Green, Ky.; and 
 Alexander Hinton at Atlanta. 
 
 COMPANY D. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds, Capt. S. M. Neigh- 
 bor, Joseph Shacklee, Wm. K. Armstrong, Thomas J. 
 Berkshire, James Beard, James Boyd, John Daugherty, Fran- 
 cis Grace, John Reardon, and Jonathan Sills at Kenesaw; 
 Capt. James M. Summers at Avereysboro; Robert Ferron at 
 Bentonville. Harvey Banks died in Prison Hospital. Obe- 
 diah Conwell, Levi Conwell, Elisha Wright, at LaVergne; 
 John Eowmiller, at Dallas; Thomas McKee at Resacca; Otto 
 Norris, at Sandersville, Ga. 
 
 Died in the hospital at Nashville, Charles Bender, 
 Thomas Chambers, Tillman Clark, Silas Clark, Joseph S. 
 
 —211— 
 
Evans, Jacob Lambertz, Robert Wineman, lyiither Weaver. 
 Died at Murfreesboro, Andrew J. Minnis; at Danville, Ky., 
 John Milligan; at McAfee Church, Albert Sheets. 
 
 COMPANY E. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds: Lieut. James H. 
 Donaldson, Elias Dimmit, Eli. W. Gordon, Samuel M. Ham- 
 Ion, David Henry, James C Lease at Peach Tree; John All- 
 man, at Lexington, Ky.; Robert M. Blackburn, at Averys- 
 boro; Joseph Hanlon, Isaac N. Winters, at Kenesaw; Otho 
 Linton, at Atlanta; John F. Rightly, at Goldsboro and James 
 W. Sheets, at Jonesboro. 
 
 Died in the Hospital at Nashville: Nelson Allen, David 
 H. Allen, John Crawford, Robert B. Connell, W'm, Gillespie, 
 David T. McMasters, Oliver P. Toot, and James Underwood; 
 Edward H. Arthurs, Chattanooga; and James Cunningham, 
 Danville, Ky. 
 
 COMPANY F. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds: Ebenezer Gillespie, 
 Albert E. Crist, Augustus T. Dorsey, Robert J. Stewart at 
 Kenesaw; Thomas Flint, on the Sultana. Uriah Martin, at 
 Goldsboro. 
 
 Died in the hospital at Nashville: Joshua Campbell, 
 John Hess, John Kinney, James Lucas, Thomas Nuss, Jo- 
 seph P. Rader, Jacob Shepherd, John Siler, Asa Vandyne, 
 James E King, Danville, Ky.; Conrad Shipraan, Evansville, 
 Indiana; Cornelius Kess, at Praett's Knob and John W. 
 Sidles, Bowhng Green, Ky. 
 
 COMPANY G. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds: Lieut. David F. 
 Miser, Isaac N. Wycoff, at Kenesaw; Jonathan Carman, 
 Benjamin F. Miser, James W. Donaldson, Francis H. Scott, 
 
 —212— 
 
Peach Tree. John B. McCarroll, at Jonesboro; and William 
 K. Schultz, at Goldsboro, N. C. 
 
 Died in the hospital at Nashville: Thomas G. Grable, 
 John Hales, Robert S. Maxwell, James Peggs, Arthur \V. 
 Robb, Stanley Shane, Geo. W. Wallace; at Bowling Green, 
 Ky., Henry K. Crabs, Jacob Angle, Hiram Angle, John 
 Andrews and Jacob Long; at Richmond, Ky., Geo. W. 
 Bain; at Harrodsburgh, Ky., Michael Burchfield; at Gallatin, ^ 
 Ten n., George Barcus; at Lebanon, Ky., Jacob Birch; at 
 Edgefield, Tenn., Lewis Browning; at Columbus. O., Wm. 
 Donaldson; at Loui.sville, Kentucky, Abram Fickes; at Home, 
 Robert McClave; at Louisville Ky., Wm. J. West. 
 
 COMPANY H. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds: Edgar Flynn, Wil- 
 liam J. Armstrong, George Courtman, at Atlanla; Ernest 
 Brady, Joseph Bowlby, John J. Farrell, at Kenesaw; William 
 J. Campbell, John Klank, Charles Lespie, Charles W. Smel- 
 zer, at Peach Tree; James K. Sowers, at Dallas. 
 
 Died in the hospital at Nashville: David S. Dennis, Al- 
 vin Goodwin, Thomas Mayhew, Christian Rusy, Enos 
 Reisch; at Bowling Green, Ky., Abram Lewellyn, Jesse 
 Miller, John H. Melvin; at Louisville, Ky., Oliver Rice. 
 
 COMPANY L 
 
 Killed: Capt. P. I. Schneider, at Peach Tree; Henry 
 Lotz, IraH. Pool, Joseph M. Garrison, Thomas Olds. How- 
 ard F. Thompson, Henry Webber, at Kenesaw; Michael 
 Habermehl, at Atlanta: John Kraus, at Jonesboro; James 
 Moneysmith, at Perrysville; John M. Pearce. John Robinson, 
 at Buzzard's Roost; Peter Risser, at Bentonville; Aaron I. 
 Brown in prison. 
 
 Died in the hospital at Nashville: W. W. Titus, Alexan- 
 der P. Harkins, Lafayette Lemunyan, Geo. B. Titus; at 
 
 —213— 
 
Bowling Green. Zopher Randall, Albert Bentley; at Galla- 
 tin, Tenn., Lutner Call; at Chattanooga, Tenn., Phiio Ray. 
 
 COMPANY K. 
 
 Killed in action or died of wounds: John Bitner, Thomas 
 Duke, Horace B. Jewell, Elijah McNeal, vSamuel Smith, at 
 Peach Tree; Julius Byers, at Buzzard's Roost; Charles 
 Haines, David Kavanaugh, William Mevin, Lemuel Olds, 
 at Kenesaw; and Arthur D. Palmer died in prison. Died in 
 hospital at Nashville: J. H. Genson, Aaron Osmer, William 
 Thompson. At Louisville: Cyrus Baxter, John Burdell and 
 John StClair. At Bowling Green: Oscar L. Perrin and 
 Isaac West. At Gallatin, Tenn , Grant C. Cook. 
 
 DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITALS. 
 
 Company A. — John Eckfield, Jacob H. Beck, James 
 Carnahan, Samuel CapHnger, Henry Binkhoff, John H. 
 Franklinberg, Benj. M. Golliver, Alexander Kissenger, 
 Levi A. Meely, Sam'l J. Marsh and William H. Payne. 
 
 Campany B. — James O. Bates, Walter A. McCuUough, 
 George W. Carter, Alex. Alloway, William Barkhurst, 
 James Bond, Thomas Coleman, Thomas Cox, Alexander Da- 
 vidson, Joseph Devinney, Virginius Daval, William Har- 
 rison, J. C. Harrison, Thomas R. Jobes, William H. Lee, 
 George Malone, M. H. McMasters, Joseph Ross, Alfred H. 
 Robinson, Wm. H. Timmerman, Thomas Taylor and John 
 Wagner. 
 
 Company C. — James H. Carter, Frank M. Acton, Exum 
 Bailey, Wm. A. Brister, Amos H. Hampton, Joseph W. 
 Hunt, William McDonald, Josiah B. McKee, John H. Mc- 
 Endre, Benj. F. Purkey, Asa T. Patterson, Ellis C. Tom- 
 linson. 
 
 Company D.— Wm. S. Dent, Luther B. Ricketts, Al- 
 fred Peck, William McFadden, Wm. T. Brown, Resin E. 
 
 —214— 
 
Bovard, John I,. Gordon, David A. Kernes, John h. Ken- 
 nedy, Peter Ivambertz, Abner Loomis, A. W. Lemasters, 
 Wm. Leraasters, James D. Moore, James Potter, Charles M. 
 Rittenhouse, Henry Schweitzer, Wm. E. Tyler, Oliver A. 
 Voeguitz. 
 
 Company E — Mordeica McDowell, William S. Wil- 
 kin, Mark Albaugh, Moses Boyd, Lewis N. Carman, Thomas 
 Crown, Geo. W. Dally, Ellis Dahymple, Alexander Doug- 
 lass, Rezin P. Mansfield, W. J. McCann, Thomas McKee, 
 D. T. McMasters, Robert Nelson, Calvin Newburn, Dan'l 
 Prosser, William Ryan, William Rhine, Thomas C. Scott, 
 Lycurgiis Shearer, Isaac Toot, Richard Thompson, George 
 Wilson. 
 
 Company F. — Samuel M. Gordon, Benj. F. Thomas, 
 James McAvoy, Michael Allen, Wm. Bennett, Robt. Car- 
 penter, Frank F. Cook, Dorsey Danford, Alfred Doty, Daniel 
 Groves, William Gatton, Edward Huffman, Henry Huff- 
 man, John Jobes, Joseph H. Jones, Alex. Landers, G. W. 
 Lindsay, W. T. Minamyer, Christian May, Singleton Owens, 
 John Rush, Joshua Richardson, John Shipman, Hezekiah 
 Saflfle, John R. Trigg. 
 
 Company G. — John R. Berry, Wm. McCook, Samuel 
 H. Wyant, A. M. Stevenson, Samuel Arnold, John Berry, 
 Hamilton Barcus, P. Y. Barnes, Samuel Blackburn, Jona- 
 than A. Cole, Clinton Critzer, L. B. Douglass, Emery P. 
 Douglass, Robert S. Dunbar, John R. Dungan, John E. 
 Goodwin, Tinlis Hawser, Richard W. Jobe, Cyrus H. Jen- 
 kins, William Kelly, Ezra D. Lawrence, John Polen, Benja- 
 min C. Rex, Thos. G. Stevenson, James Wallace, Julius B. 
 Work, John S. Wright. 
 
 Company H. — Daniel Byrnes^ Edward Conley, William 
 Cox, Joseph W. Norton, Thoma^* Payne, Adam Story, Elias 
 Stoneburner, Albert Sewell. 
 
 -215— 
 
Company I. — William E. Clayton, Peter H. Clinton, 
 Griffeth Hunter, William Bachier, Laramore J. Baxter, 
 Albert Button, Daniel S. Charlton, Martin EmhofF, George 
 B. Harris, J. W. Householder. A. P. Lawrence, William 
 Myers, Thomas S. McGarrah, Frank Robinson, Frederick 
 Seivert. 
 
 Company K. — James O. Bamber, Vincent Hawkins, 
 Francis M. James, Thomas McNeal, James McNeal, Barney 
 McDarrah, Timothy McDowell, George W. Matthews, 
 James F. Merrion, Paul W. Woodward. 
 
 DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITALS OR AT EX- 
 PIRATION OF SERVICE, WHO SERVED 
 THPEF- YEARS. 
 
 Company A. — Sergeant James H. Scott, wounded both 
 thighs, severe; Corporal Robert E. Baxter, prisoner; John 
 Graham; Samuel B. Marshall, Hospital steward; Thomas, 
 Merrit, McCaslin, McGonagle. 
 
 Company B. — Lewis D. Mercer, prisoner; Oliver M. 
 Shane, Henry H. Flemming, Joseph Brown, David Paxton, 
 Isaac Howard and David Paxon, prisoners. 
 
 Company C. — William Carter, James W. Folger, Webster 
 Folger, William G. Hilton, James W. Lynne, wounded, 
 John W. Merrill and Jerome Miller. 
 
 Company D. — John W. Baltzly, Andersonville; Levi 
 Shull, Josiah Brolyer, John Brown, John Davy, Henry 
 Foreman, C. H. Fishley, Isaac Howard, prisoners; Anthony 
 Hartley, prisoner; David McFee, wounded. 
 
 Company E. — J. B. Mansfield, wounded; W. B. Crown, 
 wounded; Joseph M. Thompson, wounded twice; David U. 
 McCullough, wounded; John C. Brown, leg amputated; B. 
 M. Culbertson, wounded; Salathia Catterell, David Dimmitt, 
 
 —216— 
 
ROBERT GATES. CO. F. 
 
 —217- 
 
Alexander Gracy, arm amputated; David I^. Miller, W. H. 
 Reynolds, wounded; James Sullivan, George Thomas, 
 wounded; Silas Yocum, wounded; William W. Ault, prisoner. 
 
 Company F. — Anthony T. Lockwood, Isaac Gates, 
 wounded; Alexander C. Crist, wounded; F. C. Kirkland, 
 Conrad M. McCabe. 
 
 Company G. — Albert E. McCue, Emory P. Smith, 
 prisoner; Isaac Baughart, arm amputated; Mord M. Cook, 
 Robert Mcintosh, wounded; T. H. Montgomery, arm ampu- 
 tated; Frank McElravy. 
 
 Company H. — John Miller, Henry H, Pickell, John 
 Cummins, lyorenza Azbill, John Dewise, Richard Foneroe, 
 Samuel Hardy, wounded; George B. Hodgson, wounded; 
 Patrick Hamilton, prisoner, escaped from Florence, South 
 Carohna; Jacob Mentz, Bartlet Montgomery, Barney Mucker, 
 Charles Pierce, John W. Steed, William Struby, Jacob 
 Warner. 
 
 Company I, — Theodore Bartell, prisoner; Richard Blod- 
 gett, wounded; N. H. Bostwick, wounded twice in the same 
 battle and taken prisoner; Frank Brunhofer, Deming B. 
 Fish, prisoners; Phillip Shaffer, wounded through the chest. 
 
 Company K. — Samuel J, Hoskins, prisoner; lycander 
 C. Kelley, W. B. Beatty, W. W. Chulip, prisoners; Horace 
 B. Church, William W. Driskell, prisoner; Josiah Dye, 
 Alonzo Fuller, prisoners; Michael Hearn, William Potts, 
 Frederick Rathgiver, Hiram Rice, Byron Smith, prisoners; 
 Levi Walters, wounded, 
 
 TRANSFERRED TO THE VETERAN RESERVE 
 CORPS AND TO THE 69TH OHIO. 
 
 Company A. — Isaac N. Groscost, John Baker, Daniel 
 Reiley, Henry Bieran, John H. Howard, Alfred Kniss, 
 Lycurgus MoflFett, John L,. Rhoden, William R. Tutor. 
 
 —218— 
 
Company B.— John Barkeimer, recruit; Charles A. 
 Brooks, recruit; John Harrison, recruit; J. A. Householder, W. 
 M. Johnson, Harry Kauffman recruit; Reese O. King, recruit; 
 John P. Kendrick, Elba C. Morgan, John J. Nation, Thomas 
 E. Paxon, recruit; Scott Roe, John Seals, Joel H. Smith, re- 
 cruit; Robert E. Wilson, recruit; George A. Walker, recruit. 
 
 Company C— Charles H. Bowers, James P. Carter, 
 Henry Crawford, Cement Hicks, William I^. Patton, Isaac 
 Teats recruit. 
 
 Company D.— Sylvester Baker, Eemon Chambers, re- 
 cruit; James Douglass recruit; Jacob Goerlitz, Samuel T. 
 Hensil, John Kirk, John Keyes, John Kirkpatrick, David 
 Markley, William A Ohaver. IvCwis Glass, Gunboat. 
 
 Company E.— A. C. Blackburn, George Fenwick, re- 
 cruit; Vachel Gallaway, Morse I. Gray, James W. Harper, re- 
 cruit; James L. Rogers, recruit; Thomas D. Shannon, James 
 W. Sanford, Thomas Welch, recruit. 
 
 Company F.— Thomas Boyers, James B. Day, recruit; 
 Robert A. Hammond, Jacob W. Moore, Franklin Poulson, 
 recruit; Morgan Vandyne, recruit; George W. Wallace, re- 
 cruit. 
 
 Company G.— Richard B. McFerrin, recruit; Enoch 
 Probert, recruit; Greenbury Phillips, recruit; Abner D. 
 Richards, recruit; Franklin Smith, Edward J. Springer, re- 
 cruit, Edward Wilson. 
 
 Company H.— James Fallis, Charles Brown, Wm. 
 Evan, Benj. L. Harris, John A. Higgins, Charles IvCSpie, 
 Washington Magee, Isaac McMullen, David Walters, John 
 Wiley, Lewis Woodward, recruits; John W, Doll, veteran 
 reserve corps; Robert Melon, Henry Prinzell, Sebastian 
 Sowers. 
 
 —219— 
 
Company I. — Lucius Boyden, signal corps, Theodore 
 Schenler. 
 
 Company K. — John Murphy, George Ains worth, Asel 
 Canfield, Lewis Downs, Charles Firman, Joseph Marshall, 
 Samuel Riddle. 
 
 NO RECORD FOUND. 
 
 Company A. — John Binkley, JohnCusick, Patrick Hill, 
 Calvin Hill, Charles W. Huges, Thomas Lilly, Osborn K. 
 Miller, John O'brien, Edwin W. Roice, JohnWhite, Martin 
 Zelliner and Joshua Zelliner. 
 
 Company C. — Franklin Neff, Elisha B. Watson and 
 Calvin Williams. 
 
 Company D. — Alexander Brown, John D. Blouse, Al- 
 fred J. Neff and John Spring. 
 
 Company E. — Andrew Shannon 
 
 Company F — Robert Cunningham and Thomas Nuss. 
 
 Company G. — William Gerrin and John Kirkpatrick. 
 
 Company H. — George K. Farrington, William Brinning, 
 Joseph Blundell, Daniel Bonners, Charles Cornell, W. H. 
 Dellerty, John Dury, John Elder, John Gable, John Henry, 
 Josiah Lewis, John A. Mayes, Henry Mittendorf, Patrick 
 Murphy, William Riley, Harry Smith, John A Sellins, E. T 
 Snyder, Joseph Skiver, Henry C. Wiley. 
 
 Company I. — Ezra Beebe, Philip Boss, Frank Barrett, 
 Adelbert Curtis, Ransel Cutler, Amos Eaton, William 
 Green, Stewart S. Hukill, James Phipps, George Simons, 
 Hiram Stratton. 
 
 Company K. — Edward O'Conner, Grant C. Cook, 
 Elisha Dowdney, Henry Eldridge, James Hawkins, John 
 Kunsley, Frank Littlefair, Patrick Lyons, Terrance Mc- 
 Nalley, Theodore Miller, John Obrien, Patrich Raney, Jacob 
 H. Scribner, C H. Wiles, David Wintermoot. 
 
 —220— 
 
MUSTERED OUT WITH THE REGIMENT. 
 
 Campan}- A. — Captain W. H. Bucke, Sergeant Robert 
 M. Sproul, Corporals James Conaway, George W. Holtry 
 and John S Baxter, Calvin Billings, William H, Anschultz, 
 James W. Baxter, John K. Baxter, George W. Beamer, 
 Daniel Brittsan, William Baney, John I. Cable, William 
 Calvert, James Cashin, Henry Dryer, Nimrod Emerson, 
 Jeremiah Foulke, Tovanion Goliver, James Highland, Joseph 
 Kannel, Christian Kerns, Frank W. Leshe, John W. Mur- 
 phy, Benjamin Melchi, Jonathan Myers, Thomas McGill, 
 Samuel Murphy, William O'Neal, James O'Hara, John H. 
 Styner, Christian Trubee, John J. Vangundy, Joshua Wal- 
 ters, Archibald Winget. 
 
 Company B. — Lieutenant W. A. Judkins, Sergeants 
 Theodore Humphreyville, Joseph T. Withrow, H. B. Mer- 
 cer and David M. Ruuyau; Corporals Morris Graham, James 
 H. McMasters, Leander Jones, Ross Noble, Samuel Grimshaw 
 and Benjamin B. Foster, David R. Brisbin. Pinckney Bone; 
 Musicians Edward Brown, ElzaV. Cox, James Davidson, John 
 T. Dugan, Columbus Evans. Gilbert S. Fleming, William 
 Giles, Isaac R. Henry, John W. Hastings, John W. Hicks, 
 Oliver Hicks, George F. Irwin, William Kirk, Wm. Kirk, 
 Jr., Benjamin H. Kirk, Jacob Myers, James McDonald, 
 Oliver McGrew, Allen T. McMasters, John W. McGlaugh- 
 lin, Campbell Miller, George W. Pierce, William Roe, 
 George W. Tweedy, Uriah H. Updegraff and George W. 
 Wilson. 
 
 Company C. — Captain Abisha C. Thomas, Lieutenant 
 Christopher W. Grimes, First Sergeant William Starbuck, Ser- 
 geant Edwin D. Patterson, Corporals Newell H. Buchanan, 
 William C. Deems, Joseph A. Parsons, Charles T. Whittacre, 
 Charles W. Tillet, Harrison Moore and John W. Hance ^ 
 Benjamin Ammon. Thomas B. Barnes, John Bailey, Isaac 
 
 —221— 
 
B. Clift, William Colvin, Wm. H. Coventry, George W. 
 Colvig, John Dilliha, George W Day, Isaac Hayes, Robert 
 W. Harris, James Hines, William Hadley, Robert Hum- 
 phrey, John N. Hunt, William Latham, Sherrow W. 
 Parker, Wm. H. Piper, Thomas Petticord, John Rucker^ 
 John W. Stubbs, James T. Woodland, W. W. Wildman 
 and Robert Warrick. 
 
 Company D. — Lieutenant William H. Ray, First 
 Sergeant W. P. Mulvane, Sergeant William L,. Laffer and 
 John Smith, Jr; Corporals George W. Exline, Thomas W. 
 Sargeant, Jeremiah B. Souder and Theodore D. Neighbor, 
 Johnson Brown, David Carr, William Chambers , Thomas 
 P. Cordery, Robert Crooks, Elijah Crossland, Kldridge 
 Davis, William Davy, John Davy, Charles Howard, Wil- 
 liam Hecklei, David Hines, Benjamin Howell, Emanuel 
 Keffer, David Lint, Andrew J. Miller, Maynard Mayberry, 
 Thomas Malone, Solomon McPherson, Silas C. Neff, 
 George W. Neighbor, Gilbert L- Patterson, Jehu Peck, 
 James H. Ray, Peter P. Reeves. Francis M. Shaffer, Wil- 
 liam H.ShulI, Lafayette Smith, John S. Stough, Jacob 
 Strickmaker, James Trueman, Valentine Wright. 
 
 Company E. — Captain William H. Lane, First Lieu- 
 tenant A B. Mclntire, First Sergeant Daniel T. Hustcroft, 
 Sergeants David King and Nixon B, Stewart, Corporals 
 Elmer Everson, Thomas A. Thompson and Henr)' H. Scott, 
 Daniel Arnold, Franklin Carnahan, George Davis, Henry 
 H. Day, John Fellows, William J. Funston, James 
 Fenwick, Nelson Householder, John Johnson, Joshua John- 
 son, John Keiley, Thomas B. Mansfield, Bazil H. Maxwell, 
 Daniel McElfresh, Andrew .McManus, James Moore, Bartley 
 Moore. John A. Nelson, Hiram G Price, George W. Quil- 
 len, William Stone, John N. South, Andrew Taylor and 
 Benjamin F. Wilson. 
 
 —222— 
 
JOHN \V. DAVY, CO. i). 
 
 -223— 
 
Company F. — Captain Samuel C. Hutchinson, First 
 lyieutenant Sylvester L. Brice, First Sergeant Thomas B. 
 Cammond, Sergeants James McFadden, Anthony Lockwood, 
 John W. Cess, and William M. Swain Corporals 
 Michael Loy, Elijah R. Hudson, Thomas Tyrell and Peter 
 Griffin, John Anthony, Martin Baker, Eli Barnes, Volney 
 Blue, David Dillon, William Duval, Stewart Doty, Robert 
 Gates, James Gates, John J. Gillespie, Washington Gillespie, 
 Johnson Hammond, James Holland, George W. Johnson, 
 John Moore, William W. Moore, John McVey, John C. 
 Pittman, Martin Purtyman, Salathiel Pugh, Hiram K. Rader, 
 William A. South, Joshua Swaney, James Thornberry, 
 James Tyrell, Isaac Vandyne, Jonathan Vandyne, Perry 
 Wright. 
 
 Company G. — First Lieut. Lemuel W. Duff; First Ser- 
 geant Abram R. Holmes, Seigeants Joseph C. Rogers, Sam- 
 uel M. Pyle, Ross E. Rex. Styles W. Porter. Corporal 
 James Taylor and Johnson Davis, Hamilton Wallace, music- 
 ian; William V. Baim, JamesC. Bowers, Thomas Burchfield- 
 George Berry, Thomas M. Burns, William P. Barnes, Na- 
 than Gosset, Thomas C. Grader. Brice R. Gruber, James E. 
 Jackman, James M. Kain, John Mcintosh, Robert Mcintosh, 
 James L. Porter, Charles Roberts, John Rhinehart, Johsua 
 Saltsman, Benjamin E Saltsman, Joseph Swan, William H. 
 Stephenson, David P. Stephenson, James Wallace, Jr., David 
 Walters and Milton B. Wyant. 
 
 Company H, — First Lieut. Julius Armstrong, Second 
 Lieut. Gossler Rudolph, First Sergeant Isaac L. Mills, Ser- 
 geants Samuel A. Harper, William C. Noone, and John W. 
 Coleman; Corporal John W. Bowen, John Bonhart, James 
 Budd, Osborne Belt, George Cahoo, Benjamin F. Clark, Ed- 
 ward Greiner, Richard Harms, John Harris, George B. Hodg- 
 son, John Martin, Joseph H. Miller, William Miller, Aaron 
 
 —224- 
 
Mills, Robert McMullen, George W. Parker, John S.Stokes, 
 Digory Sholl, Wesley Woodward and John H, Wagoner. 
 
 Company I. — Capt., Frank B. James; First Sergeant, 
 David R. Roe; Sergeants Howard B. Treat, John Lanaghan; 
 Corporals, Thomas Hunter, Horace T, Clark, George P. 
 Cogswell, and John Stough. Phineas A. Thompson, Wil- 
 liam Barclay, William H. Close, Arthur T. Corlett, Matthias 
 Haffele, William lyOckard, James McCutcheon, Samuel Mil- 
 ler, John N. Norton, Herman Pilz, James Porter, Robert 
 Robinson, Thomas H. Rhenark, Joseph Summer, John M. 
 Ulsenheimer, Charles Whittern. 
 
 Company K. — Capt., Edward I,. Anderson; Second lyieut., 
 Samuel J. Brent; First Sergeant, George Wilcox; Sergeant, 
 Henry Brakeman; Corporal George Kueny, and Michael 
 Madden, Lewis Fink, Francis Falter, John L. Gordon, Hen- 
 ry Holden, James Hudson, Simon P. Heller, Andrew J. 
 JefFers, Henry Koch, James Lineback, John K. McKenzie, 
 Blair H. Puffenbarger, Valentine Strode, William L. Trox- 
 el, Andrew Weisfoot. 
 
 -225— 
 
H 103 79 '^ 
 
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