USA > Illinois > History of the Thirty-fourth regiment of Illinois volunteer infantry. September 7 1861. July 12, 1965 > Part 26
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At one time during the seige of Corinth the whole Regi- ment was on picket. With others from the right of the Regi- ment, the lines were cautiously advanced through the thick underbrush, and I put my hat on my gun and exposed it around a stump. A voice called out, "Put a head in that hat and I will shoot at it." I declined with thanks. The following day Corinth was evacuated and we passed in by the big Quaker guns set up to terrify us.
While we were on the march from Florence to Huntsville, I saw a large hornets' nest by the roadside, and called out: "Halt; charge bayonets!" and carried out the command at the point of the bayonet. I instantly learned the full meaning of the expression "to stir up a hornets' nest." I succeeded in get- ting rid of them by dashing mud and water over myself in a creek near by. A sufficient number of hornets could rout the largest army.
When we were at Battle Creek, in 1862, the enemy's cav- alry was on the opposite side of the river, and I struck up an acquaintance with a Texan. We read bombastic reports of our victories over their forces, and they, soon learning the hoax, gave us as good as we sent.
In the fall of 1862, when the army was near Crab Orchard, Ky., we were sent out along the line of march, as guards at farmers' houses. George Crumb and I were sent out from Glasgow Junction to the house of a farmer named Wm. H. Dickinson. George went on a half-mile farther, to the house of a Mr. Bird, where we remained three days. It was there I got acquainted with the girl who has been my wife since Feb- ruary ISth, 1864. We have one son, who married Mary Em- mert of Lanark, Ill.
The day following the battle of Stone River, when well up to the enemy, at the request of the Colonel, I climbed a large tree and directed the artillerymen how to fire. They soon got the range and created a panic in their ranks. It was the grand- est sight of my life. I could see the officers trying to rally their men. The next morning they came down on us like a tornado, and I was among the first to be wounded. With the help of
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Hiram Clark I got back about two hundred feet, but the John nies were coming so rapidly and so many, I told him to lay me down and run. He did so, and the next moment five lines of battle passed over me. One man took my gun and another gave me a canteen of water.
I was shot through the right knee joint-a very severe and painful wound. I laid two days on the field, but had the kind attention of a man named Jimmie O'Neil, who was a recent en- listment in the 11th Texas Infantry, and here I saw and recog- nized by Texas acquaintance, Sears. He gave me all the assist- ance possible such as heating water and helping me to do what he could for my wounded knee.
General Sill was killed near me; also Captain Greenwood, of Co. "G." Sergeant Gantz, of my Company, was also severe- ly wounded in the thigh, and we were, after two days, removed in an army wagon to some cabins and given only such scant care and treatment as the conditions of several thousand wounded men suddenly thrown upon the hands of the surgeons made possible.
THE BATTLE OF STONE RIVER.
LIEUTENANT R. J. HEATH, COMPANY "A."
With regard to the Battle of Stone River, I can only give you my personal recollection of the affair. I was on the extreme right of the picket line on the morning of December 31st. Crow, Schick, Sam Miller and myself were on the post.
The 39th Indiana came up during the night and threw out a skirmish line perpendicular to ours, from near our post to the rear, guarding the right flank of the army. A cornfield, perhaps sixty rods wide, was in our front. Lieut. J. A. Morgan, Co. "A," was in command of the picket line.
The Regiment and Edgerton's Battery were about eighty rods to our left, and not more than forty rods in rear of the picket line. Just at dawn, Sam Miller, standing on top of the
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fence, informed us that a rebel skirmish line was coming into the cornfield on the opposite side of the field. (Crow and my- self were down in the fence corner frying bacon, and I have al- ways wondered who ate that bacon; WE DID NOT.) I told Sam to fire at them. Sam fired and the battle of Stone River PROPER was opened. Crow, Schick and I all commenced firing at long range, to alarm the camp, and Lieut. Morgan, who was farther to the left, came up the line to ascertain the cause of the firing. By this time the rebel army was in full view, and Morgan, taking in the situation, ordered us back over another line of rail fence, running parallel to the one behind which we were posted, about ten rods in the rear. I think we held this last line until the rebels had captured the battery.
At about the same time a large force of cavalry attacked the 39th Indiana on the flank line and drove them back toward us. The Regiment and the Battery were routed, and we, on the picket line, attempted to get to what was left of the 34th.
We were compelled to retreat across a cornfield some sixty rods wide, and, the tops having been cut from the corn, the cover was not good. In crossing the field I came across Hers- chel Smith wounded (shot through one foot). I helped him into a ditch, made by the water, and left him. When a little more than half way across the field, I came to a stack of fodder and took refuge behind it, and there I found John Gorgas. We rested a moment, and looked around the stacks, only to discover that the Johnnies were within a few rods of us. We saw that by running the gauntlet of their fire for about ten rods we could get under cover of a ridge, and possibly escape. We decided to run for it. As we left the stacks the rebs called "Halt!" and sent in a volley. They missed me, but I think, or then thought, that they hit every stalk in that field. Four bullets struck Gor- gas; one passed through the back of his neck, one lodged in his shoulder, one split his chin, and still another perforated one of his hips. I succeeded in crossing a narrow lane, into a field where there was an immense crop of weeds, and there I found George Colburn. He looked around, solemnly, and remarked:
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"The animals are badly scattered." There Woodworth was killed.
This field seemed filled with Yankees, many of them wounded, and none of them seeming to know whether they were going to the front, or the rear. There seemed to be rebels in all directions. I saw troops forming behind an osage hedge farther to our left, and thinking possibly it might be a remnant of the 34th, I went to them. It proved to be the 49th Ohio and 30th Indiana. About the time that I reached them the enemy came into the field in front of them, and for a time the battle raged furiously. They soon flanked us and drove us from our position, and we retreated to a ridge covered with a dense growth of cedars, where we made another stand.
Here I found Sam T. Miller, and we went in search of the Regiment. We could not find it. Having been on the picket line at the opening of the battle, we, at this time, knew nothing of the fate of the boys who were in camp when the cyclone struck. When the final stand was made, and the rebel army was checked, late in the afternoon, the brigade lined up on the ridge along the Nashville pike. Sam Miller and myself were alone on the line representing the 34th.
My understanding of the matter is that the 34th was the only Regiment of the Brigade on the front line at the opening of the battle of Stone River, and that, when they were driven back, they missed the other regiments coming up from the rear, and were away from them during the whole of the first day's action.
In answer to your questions, I would say that Charley Crichton was captured at Stone River. Your list of the cap- tured is correct, I believe.
I will give you my personal recollections of any event that you may require.
R. J. HEATH.
Eldora, Iowa.
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In a letter of later date, Lieut. Heath says:
In answer to your question, I am compelled to say NO. I cannot tell you who was the fifth man on the "Roll of Honor." That whole matter had slipped from my memory until called back by your letter.
I remember with no small amount of pride and satisfaction that I was the first man in the company chosen. I don't know whether it was Slocum, John Crichton or George Phipps who was the fifth man, but I do know that no mistake could have been made on either of them.
At any time and in any manner that I can be of any ser- vice to you, in writing up the history of the 34th, my services are yours. I want to see it in print. I want to read it. I want a copy in the best binding, all for myself, and when you want my personal recollection or experience in any form, in re- gard to the events of which you write, I will dig deep down into the storehouse of my memory, and you can have what . I find there.
Not a man, save myself, in Co. "A," and I know of but one other in the Regiment (Capt. Childers) who served the whole term of service of the Regiment, and was never (except on duty) away from the Regiment over night.
I don't think that I have at any time been a stickler for any of the five points of a Presbyterian faith; in fact, I have not at any time in my life been at all inclined to be religious, but, when in memory I go over the campaigns in which we took a part, it seems that I had some kind of a pull with Providence. Irvin Palmer stood by my side at Avarasboro, N. C., talking to me, when he caught the rebel bullet that mustered him out. A few minutes later, while I was trying to convince Sam Miller that he had no sense, another rebel bullet broke Sam's jaw in terrible shape. I was running the gauntlet with John Gorgas, when the Johnnies made a pepper-box of him. At Jonesboro, I was trying to keep brave Sergeant Henry Miller down in the grass when he was killed, and was, immediately afterwards, there when Sergeant Ed. Payne lost his good right arm. And, still without accident, after the passing of a generation, I am --
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yes, after assisting, in my feeble way, in kicking the stuffing out of the institution of slavery in this country-I am compelled to stand on the sunset hills of life and witness the selfishness and greed of those who, in those days, took advantage of the dis- tress of the Nation, now, and for many years past, still enrich- ing themselves at the expense of the people, and begrudging the defenders of their country the pensions allowed, not for the suf- ferings endured, nor for the blessings brought to this country thereby, but that the old soldier, grateful for the privilege of ending his days outside the poorhouse, may be used for political purposes.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF CAPTAIN WM. S. WOOD.
FURNISHED BY HIS FAMILY.
Captain William S. Wood was born at Boxborough, Mass., Feb. 13, 1832, and was the seventeenth child of Captain Ama- riah and Hannah Smith Wood.
In boyhood, he gave himself to preparation for his life work as a teacher, and after the death of his mother, when he was seventeen years of age, he left home and worked his way through school.
He graduated from the Massachusetts State Normal and began teaching in 1852, which work he followed continuously for forty years, excepting from 1861 to the fall of 1864, when he was in the Volunteer service in the Army.
Captain Wood was a member of a family of patriotic sol- diers, his grandfather being a captain in the Revolutionary war; his father a captain in the war of 1812. Captain Wood organ- ized Co. "D," 34th Ill. Vol. Infantry in 1861, and went out as First Lieutenant with Captain Pratt. He was severely wound- ed while in action at the battle of Pittsburg Landing-"Shiloh" as he always called it. This wound was similar in location and direction of bullet to the wound which caused the death of President Garfield. the ball passing entirely through his abdomen.
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When sent home wounded he brought with him the bodies of Major Levanway and Captain Stevens, and during his period of recovery he served as recruiting officer.
At the battle of Stone River, after receiving, at short range, a full load of buckshot in the breast, Captain Wood was sur- rounded and taken prisoner, being sent first to Atlanta, then to Libby prison, from which he was exchanged after a total im- prisonment of one hundred days.
Near the close of 1863, on account of disabilities, he was honorably discharged from the service.
May 17, 1893, he died, in Chicago, Ill., his death being caused by a trouble from which he suffered continuously from his army service.
According to his desire, his body lies in the Dixon, Ill., Cemetery, on the slope facing the field occupied by his Com- pany when in camp after enlistment and awaiting orders to go into active service.
In his work as teacher, for more than thirty-six years, Mr. Wood held responsible positions of honor and trust in seven of oui States, acting most of the time as superintendent of city schools in Ohio and Indiana. He was elected Vice-President of the National Educational Association; was an active member of the Indiana Academy of Science, and was called to prominent positions in various State Educational Associations.
Captain Wood was a thorough Christian, a good and kind husband, a provident and loving father, and a patriot worthy of his nation.
THE REGIMENTAL POSTMASTER.
I recollect very well the move from Nashville, leading up to the battle of Murfreesboro and Stone River, though the dates and names of the places are indistinct. We started out on the Nolansville pike, and during the first day's march the 34th took no part in the skirmish line, but the second day out it was differ- ent. Our cavalry encountered skirmishers, almost immediately
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in the morning, and the 34th was ordered to the front, and, as usual, Co. "A" out as skirmishers. A raw Irish recruit, who had just joined us, came running out of the ranks to me and said: . "What in God's name shall I do? Sure I never loaded a gun in me life, much less shot one." I quickly changed my knapsack and baggage for his gun and cartridge box, and hurry- ing on ahead, soon caught up with the boys of Co. "A," just as they were deploying, and, joining in with them, was with them during the day's skirmishing.
We crowded the Confederates' rear guard closely, exchang- ing shots constantly all day. Toward night, we charged, in the rain, through a little village and a plowed field, on the double- quick, trying to capture a Confederate battery posted on a hill beyond the village. We drove the gunners off, but the mud was so deep we could not get there quick enough to get the guns, and the gunners came back and dragged the guns off by hand. On reaching the top of the raise we could see regiments of cav- alry and the battery in full retreat. This, I think, was Decem- ber 30.
The next morning Captain Ege and twenty men of the 34th, including myself, were detailed to guard the supply train to Nashville for provisions. We were off early and got into Nash- ville without incident, loaded with commissary supplies, and started back over the Nolansville pike. We made good time back to where we had left our Brigade, but they were not there. We learned they had marched off east towards Murfrees- boro, and our orders were to follow on, but as it was nearly night, we pulled off in a ravine and camped out of sight of the pike in a hollow. Just at dark (this was New Year's day, 1863, if I remember rightly), two cavalrymen of the 8th Pennsylvania Cavalry rode into our camp, informing us of the big battle at Murfreesboro, and that our right wing had been turned and broken, and that everything between us and our army was full of Confederate troops and cavalry, and that they were raiding between us and Nashville, and we might look for a raid any minute. The wagons were put in a circle, the mules inside,
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and myself and two other comrades sent out on a hill overlook- ing the pike, as pickets. We spent the whole night expecting an attack momentarily, but when morning dawned we were still unmolested and the teams were hitched, arms distributed to the drivers, and we started back for Nashville. We came to a little town where there were smoking wagons, dead mules, and lots of strange looking men in the houses, but, as long as they did not attempt to stop us, we were not disposed to call them to account, but kept on at a trot through the town. We could see, behind us, horsemen, following at a distance, but we pushed on through, and after dark, trailed in under the guns of old Fort Negley, and they looked awfully good to us, who had so narrow an escape from capture, or worse. The boys left in Nash- ville would hardly believe we were not paroled, as it had been reported that not a single team or man outside the fort, between Nashville and the Army, at Murfreesboro, had not been cap- tured. I think that was true, excepting our own little squad and the twenty teams in our charge.
The next morning we started out again on the Murfrees- boro pike and found, at La Vergne, hundreds of burned wagons and supplies, etc., destroyed and taken, but the raiding was done, and we pushed on through the dark and mud, and, some time towards morning, arrived at the Army, in front of Stone River, and were loudly and heartily cheered for having gotten through with hard tack and bacon, safe, for the hungry, tired boys bivouacked in the mud. Then we learned, for the first time, how hard a battle had been fought, and what comrades had been killed and wounded.
911 Lincoln Avenue, Hastings, Neb.
L. A. PAYNE.
THE CAROLINA CAMPAIGN.
Comrade Henry C. Pratt, Sergeant of Co. "G." Virginia, Cass County, Illinois, furnishes the following incident of the Carolina Campaign :-
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On the march through the Carolinas, the Regiment was detailed to help the wagon trains that were constantly being mired in the quicksands; the men using ropes arranged for the purpose, first extracting the eight mules attached to one wagon, and then the wagon. We had just extracted a team and wagon from the mire, .when a Staff Officer from Corps Head- quarters, who had seen the work, complimented us on our suc- cess. Before the officer in command could reply, Corporal Bruner, of Co. "G," replied, in his peculiar nasal style, "Yes, we got the mules and wagon out, but we lost a driver and a ----- good whip down in that hole," laying special accent on the word whip.
AN INCIDENT AT BUZZARDS ROOST.
Orderly Sergeant E. C. Winters, of Co. "A," gives the fol- lowing account of an incident that occurred in front of Buzzards Roost, at the beginning of the Atlanta Campaign :--
Soon after the battle of Missionary Ridge and the raising of the siege of Knoxville, Gen. Sherman began making prepa- rations for the advance on Atlanta. He had spies and scouts all over the country from Chattanooga to Atlanta, and, at the time of which I write, he had maps showing every road and. crossroad, every river, creek, brook and rivulet, and every farm and farmhouse.
The bridges across the streams were accurately measured and their duplicates made in Northern factories and stored, ready to be forwarded when needed. In fact, Gen. Sherman knew more about the ninety miles of country along the line of the Western & Atlantic Railroad than any man living, so accu- rately had his secret-service men traced it on paper for their Chief's use in the death struggle that was soon to begin at Rocky Face Ridge, and end in the capture of Atlanta, four months later.
On the evening of May 8, 1864, my Regiment (the 34th Ill. ) was camped about three- fourths of a mile north of Bnz- zards Roost Gap, a pass through Rocky Face Ridge, a spur of
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the Cumberland Mountains extending to the southwest across the northwest corner of Georgia. On our left, not more than forty rods away, was old Rocky Face, 600 or 800 feet high, here pointing off to the south nearly a mile, where it suddenly makes a break to let Mill Creek pass through, and as suddenly taking up its chain, it passes off to the southwest.
To the right of our camp was a beautiful valley of meadow- land and cornfields, with here and there a log house surrounded by a rail fence, with lovely roses growing at the doors and all over the yards, and climbing up the sides of the homely old huts -roses of all hues, from snow-white to almost black. I believe that Northern Georgia has more roses to the square foot than any other land Old Sol shines on. I have thought that, per- haps when the Creator made that country, and saw what a rough job it was, he just scattered roses all over it to attract the attention of the traveler from its rough, rocky bluffs, as do the bright and lovely eyes that we sometimes see shining from very homely features.
Mill Creek, with its crystal waters, flows through the valley. n serpentine wanderings, one is inclined to think that it is looking for a place to hide before it reaches those great piles of stone through which there seems to be no way for it to pass.
The railroad hugs close up to the foot of the mountain on our left, until it reaches the break where it strikes out boldly for the other end of the broken chain, a half-mile off to the south- west. In doing so, it closes the gap with broken stone to a depth of from fifty to eighty feet. About midway between two points of the mountains, is a culvert, through which Mill Creek passes.
'A few days before we reached the gap, Gen. Johnston, thinking we were coming, knowing that we wished to go to Atlanta, had this culvert closed, causing an accumulation of water on our side of the pass. Already, there were several acres of land submerged, and every hour added to the over sup- ply of that necessary commodity.
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This wide spread reservoir of water was making a better de- fense for Joe Johnston's army than could 10,000 of his best troops.
The only place where we could possibly attack his army, except with artillery, was along the railroad track.
It was a part of Gen. Sherman's plan that Gen. John M. Palmer, (peace to his political ashes, ) commanding the Four- teenth Corps, should move through this pass, and attack the enemy's right at Resaca.
In order to do this, the dam would have to be cut. My Company ("A") had been skirmishing during the afternoon upon the side of the mountain, among the rocks and fallen trees. I had gone to bed, too tired to sleep. About II o'clock, Gen. John G. Mitchell, commander of the Second Brigade, Second Division, Fourteenth Corps, and Col. Oscar Van Tassel, of the 34th Ill,, accompanied by Lieut. R. J. Heath-three as brave men as ever served their country-came to my tent.
The General wanted me to take a few men and go through the enemy's lines and open the dam. I selected George Gar- wick, John Crichton and Henry Coryell. Mitchell and Van- Tassel accompanied us to the skirmish line, where the 113th Ohio were stationed, and gave orders to open fire on the enemy as soon as we had time to reach the dam. This was to attract the enemy's attention while we were at work.
We were given picks and shovels, wrapped in tent cloth to deaden sound. We were to carry no arms of any kind, but as I objected to this, Gen. Mitchell gave me his revolver, a double- acting one. He then gave us our instructions to be followed in case of capture. After leaving the skirmish line, we talked over our plan of work. On our left was a steep side of the moun- tain, from which the road-bed had been blasted. On the right was a steep incline downward of broken stone. There was no way to go, except along the railroad track. We lay down and moved forward. I took the lead, with Garwick, Crichton and Coryell following. We were close enough to reach each other
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with our hands or feet. We were not to speak a word; all com- munication had to be carried on by signals. One stroke of the hand or foot meant to move forward, two to lie still, and three to retreat.
We had cautiously crept forward 100 yards or more, when we heard some one snoring. After lying still a few minutes we decided the sleeper was not on the track, but a few rods to the front and left, and after going a little farther we heard the breathing to the left and rear, and then we knew the Rubicon was passed and we were inside the rebel lines. Just at this point Garwick gave me two sudden jerks. I raised my head, when, oh, Heavens! the enemy had set a building on fire just across the little valley, and it would soon be as light as day. I sig- naled a retreat.
As we neared the picket post that we had just passed, I saw a sentinel leaning on his gun, looking at the fire. Near him were a half-dozen or more of his sleeping comrades.
As we passed the sentinel he was not more than twenty feet from us, and in looking at the burning building, which was a little way up the mountain side, he looked directly over us. I was almost tempted to shoot the fellow for his carelessness. I thought if he would only look in that direction a few minutes longer he was at liberty to act as he pleased the rest of his nat- ural life, as far as I was concerned. But if he had discovered us, the case would have been different. I had the General's revolv- er ready for use, and we would have sold our lives dearly. The fellow must have been a fire-worshiper, for the last I saw of him he was still gazing intently at the burning building.
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