USA > Ohio > Four years in the saddle. History of the First Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Cavalry. War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865 > Part 37
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On our way to Murfreesboro we saw evidences of the ter- rible destruction of war everywhere - dead horses, burned houses, broken wagons, ammunition boxes, but very few soldiers. The wounded seemed to have been picked up and the dead buried in that part of the battle-field. On the porch of one house we saw the body of General Sims, shot square in the forehead. He certainly died with his face to the enemy.
We heard only occasional cannon shots in the far distance, and from what we saw and heard could only conclude that our army was thoroughly defeated, and if not completely disor- ganized, at least in full retreat to Nashville. We had seen the defeat of our right wing (McCook's corps), but we were utterly
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in the dark as to the center (Thomas) and the left (Crittenden); nor did the rebels enlighten us, but insisted that our whole army was whipped.
Upon arrival in Murfreesboro we were shown a large store- room full of wounded Union oldiers - or as a Louisiana officer would have it, Yankee soldiers - with orders to attend to them. We found one hundred and eighteen, mostly severely wounded men, with a few paroled prisoners as nurses, but no surgeon. Nearly all belonged to Missouri and Illinois regiments. Their wounds had not been dressed and were in a dreadful condition. Some of the cases required immediate amputation. But ampu- tation cannot be performed without assistants, instruments, anæsthetics and bandages, and I had none of these. I therefore went immediately to the medical director and stated my des- perate situation and urgent wants. I found him to be a true physician and a thorough gentleman. He pointed to the room opposite and said, "Doctor, there is our store. It is all we have. Go in and take anything you can make use of; but I am sorry to say it will not be much. As to an assistant, I will send one as soon as possible with an amputating case." I repaired to the room, expecting to find it full of medical and surgical stores, but to my disgust found only empty shelves, with here and there a bottle, mostly quinine, salts, castor oil and morphine. I took one of each and a few bandages and returned to my charge with a heavy heart and almost in despair.
On my return I found an officer of the provost guard, who informed me that the body of an officer of my own regiment was in the cellar, who had fallen in a terrible charge of the regiment on the previous day, in which the Colonel, several officers and many soldiers had also been killed. I went with him to the cellar and found a body decently covered with a cloth, on the removal of which I saw that it was Major Moore. Part of his forehead was torn away by a piece of shell. He also had died like a hero, with his face to the enemy. The day was passed in attending to the wants of the wounded as well as could be under the circumstances. The promised assistant did not arrive until late at night, when the work of amputating commenced and did not cease until the rebel surgeon, Doctor Pendleton, Steward Doty and I were utterly exhausted and nature compelled us toward morning to seek some rest. So passed the second day of our captivity, Thursday, January 1, 1863.
The third did not materially differ as far as our occupation was concerned. We did not hear as much noise and cheering as on the day before, but that did not especially attract our atten- tion. We were also not so often reminded that the Yankees were on their way to Nashville. In the morning an officer ap- peared whose serious face indicated that his mind was not at ease and requested me to point out among the wounded all that were
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able to bear transportation, as they were to be sent to Vicksburg. Poor fellows, they were so anxious to go, hoping, when in Vicks. burg, that they, would soon be exchanged; but unfortunately most of them were too seriously wounded to admit of removal. Those fit to travel were conveyed to the depot and left for Vicks- burg within an hour.
During the night we were awakened by the cries of the wounded, that they could not wake the nurses, that they wanted water, etc. We got up to investigate and found, to our con- sternation, that every one of the nurses had sneaked away, prob- ably in the hopes of getting on the train and so to Vicksburg. Nothing was left for us to do but to get up and take their places for the balance of the night. In the morning another difficulty arose. These poor fellows were hungry and cried for their break- fast; but the cook had left with the rest. So we had to go to cooking. We settled on biscuit and coffee for breakfast; this more from necessity than choice. Our cooking utensils con- sisted of a camp-kettle and a small Dutch oven, and our provi- sions of some flour and coffee. Doty made the dough, mixing flour and water together, while I tended to the baking. The bak- ing was rather a slow process, as our oven would bake only five biscuits at a time. Nevertheless, by eleven o'clock we had served each man with a bun (which would have served better as a can- non ball than digestible food) and a cup of coffee, and had one left to divide between ourselves. The biscuits were so hard that it took the men an hour to masticate them, so they could dispense with dinner, which was very fortunate for the cooks. As soon as breakfast was over I went to the provost marshal and requested him to furnish me new nurses and a cook, which he cheerfully did.
This was Saturday morning. By this time a mysterious change had taken place at Murfreesboro, which Doty noticed sooner than I. We heard no more cheers. Soldiers hastened about the streets silently and with serious faces. There was a constant rumbling of railroad trains leaving in a southern direction. Most of the prisoners of war had disappeared.
"I believe they are retreating," said Doty.
"Retreating? Yes, toward Nashville!
"No, sir! Come and see!"
I slipped to the window, where we could look upon the road coming from Nashville towards the south. There we saw first irregular masses of men marching without order, some without arms or hats, then single cannon, then whole batteries, then cavalry, then infantry, - all mixed up, but still with a certain degree of order. This lasted the whole night, but at daybreak the town was as still as a graveyard, with only a few cavalry pickets, who soon disappeared also. The rebels had made an
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orderly retreat, and left nothing but their own wounded and some wounded prisoners.
What a change! The city was as quiet and deserted as a churchyard at midnight. Not a soldier nor a citizen to be seen. We were free again! There was no doubt now that the rebels had been defeated. We expected every moment to see our men appear in hot pursuit, but in this we were bitterly mistaken. The whole Sunday passed and not a soldier appeared. What did it mean? Didn't General Rosecrans know that the enemy had retreated? Was he so crippled that he was unable to pursue? Is the retreat only a feint? Will the rebels return? The questions were asked a hundred times during that lonely day, but no satisfactory answer was found. Nor did the night bring any solution. If we could only communicate with our army. But there was no messenger, and we did not know where to send. The night passed in the same painful suspense. Seven o'clock passed, eight o'clock. Are we left to our fate entirely? Are the poor men to perish for want of food and medicine and proper care?
"There! Didn't you hear that bugle-blast? Cavalry is com- ing! It sounds so familiar, it must be our regiment."
We hastened to the street and in a few minutes we were sur- rounded by our friends and our captivity was at an end - a thing of the past.
The army marched through Murfreesboro and went into camp a few miles distant. The medical director took charge of the wounded, regular hospitals were established, and we at last were relieved and returned to our commands.
I might still relate many stirring incidents of the war in which I myself took part, but I am reminded that my time and space are limited, and will refer to only one - the tragic end of Colonel Cupp at Chickamauga. I was then acting Brigade . Surgeon on the staff of General Long, commanding the brigade to which the First O. V. C. was attached. We had been in Broom- town valley on the extreme right, observing and also skirmish- ing with the enemy. The country is extremely rough and broken, full of deep valleys and high mountain ranges covered with for- ests and unfavorable for the evolutions of cavalry. One morning we were suddenly withdrawn from our position and entered upon a forced march. The conformation of the country alluded to made it impossible to form a distinct idea of where we were going to. I remember even a dispute between some soldiers whether there would be a battle or not, and this while the battle had already been raging two days and, as it turned out, already lost. Suddenly we came to a halt. The brigade was deployed in front of a clearing partly concealed by underbrush. Whether anyone saw the enemy I do not know; but I am sure I did not, though I was close to General Long. Suddenly we heard a hor-
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rible volley in our immediate front, as if a whole brigade had fired, and many a saddle was emptied in an instant and many a horse bit the dust. A rapid retreat was necessary to get out of range. We had run into Hindman's division of infantry and Wheeler's cavalry.
I was soon overtaken by a member of the First O. V. C., who informed me that Colonel Cupp was severely wounded and re- quested my immediate attendance. Seeing an ambulance near, I ordered the driver to follow me, and turned again toward the place which we had so suddenly left. I soon found the Colonel, lying on his back, holding his abdomen with both hands and moaning dreadfully. A hasty examination convinced me that his case was hopeless - he was shot through the stomach. While engaged in lifting him tenderly into the ambulance we were suddenly surrounded by a company of rebels, apparently irregulars, for they were in homespun clothes. And so it ap- peared I was a prisoner for the second time. However, I got off better than the first. I was accosted by the leader with the question: "What are you'uns doin' thar?" I gave the driver a sign to move on and, turning to the Captain, said in an authori- tative tone: "Don't you see what we are doing? We are taking the wounded off the field." He seemed to reflect for some time on this information, and then said, pointing in the direction of the woods: "Wall, there are some more of you'uns laying' over thar." "I know it," said I, "and as soon as the ambulance returns I shall take care of them." This gave him again something to reflect on. Whether he took me for a Confederate Surgeon or a sacred person exempt from the ordinary usages of war, I do not know; at any rate, without another word he marched his men off in a different direction from that the ambulance had taken and left me at liberty to follow. This I attempted to do; but being entirely unacquainted with the roads, I missed it in the confusion and excitement and never saw Colonel Cupp again. He died in the Lee House, Crawfish Springs, about 4 P. M. the same evening. After many hair-breadth escapes from capture I found my way to Chattanooga (where the regiment had preceded me) - one of the last to enter the city.
Here I must close, fearing that my reminiscences of two memorable battles have already tired your readers, our old com- rades. If so, I hope they will pardon me, remembering that old . age makes men garrulous. On the other hand, should they derive any pleasure from the perusal, I shall be more than gratified, and as I' am not unmindful that the last grand call may soon be sounded for me, I take this opportunity to bid them each and
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every one an affectionate farewell on this my seventieth birth- day anniversary.
R. WIRTH, Late Surgeon First O. V. C.
Columbus, Ohio, July 21, 1898.
The Courier Line.
Courier duty in the cavalry service is very exciting and at times quite dangerous. Courier lines are established in the army for the purpose of carrying dispatches between the different headquarters, and it is usually important that they be carried very rapidly, and for that purpose the best mounts are selected. From four to six men are on duty at each station, aud the sta- tions are three or four miles apart, according to the number of men on duty and the distance to be covered by the whole line.
To do good service on a line of twenty miles, it would take from thirty-six to forty men. The men are often stationed in abandoned houses, barns or sheds, if they can be found at about the proper distances apart; and if such shelter cannot be found along the road, if the weather is bad shelter tents are put up at the stations. The couriers at the stations must always be on the lookout on both ends of the line, and at least two horses must be kept saddled and bridled at all times, ready to mount, and when a courier is seen coming, a trooper of the proper relief mounts and as the incoming courier dashes up, he receives from him the dispatch, wheels his horse and is off under the spur like a flash for the next station. The courier is in light marching orders, carrying usually only his rubber poncho mailed to the cantel of his saddle with belt and revolver, leaving his saber, carbine, blanket and haversack at the station. On delivering a dispatch, the courier gives his horse time to blow and then re- turns slowly to his station.
During the war of the rebellion, very often the courier line run over mountains and through thickly wooded and uninhab- ited parts of the country, invested by bushwhackers and scout- ing parties of the rebel cavalry, and it was a dangerous service. The carrier of dispatches always had orders not to allow the dispatches under any circumstances to fall into the hands of the enemy, and if he was attacked or pursued, he must act on his better judgment to either keep the road or take to the woods, and if too hard pressed to destroy the dispatch in some way. A courier was not expected to do much fighting, but if he was cornered and was in danger of being captured and there was not to exceed half a dozen of the enemy, he did not hesitate to use his revolver and often emptied some saddles and made his escape. Where the stations were not more than three miles apart, a run of twenty miles was usually made in less than two hours.
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The Courier Line.
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Altogether this was at times a very hazardous service, as the couriers at isolated stations were frequently attacked and captured; yet it was a very attractive and exciting service, and the ideal trooper enjoyed it. The illustration is true to life, showing the courier post, in the thick forest, with the troopers on duty, waiting and watching intently for the horseman just coming in sight around the turn in the road. This cut was made by the direction of the author especially for the history of the First O. V. C. and will recall vividly to the minds of many comrades courier duty in the mountains of Tennessee and Georgia.
Biographies.
COLONEL MINOR MILLIKIN.
(By permission of Robert Clark & Co.)
The biography of Colonel Millikin was copied from the biography written by Whitelaw Reid and published in his his- tory "Ohio in the War."
Colonel Millikin was the eldest son of Major John M. Mil- likin, formerly a lawyer of Hamilton and long known as the President of the State Board of Agriculture, and one of the foremost among that body of retired professional men of wealth and culture who adorn the vocation of Ohio farmers. Minor was born on the ninth of July, 1834. His early education was acquired in the high schools of Hamilton, and under the watch- ful eye of his parents. In 1850 he was sent to Hanover College, Ind., where he passed through the course of study of the Fresh- man and Sophomore classes. In 1852 he went to Miami Univer- sity and there completed his collegiate education. He ranked foremost among all the students then in that honored old insti- tution. He was not known as a remarkable scholar, nor was he ever popular. But there was about him an individuality so intense and so striking, that wherever he was placed he was the center of attraction. " He was the most nervous and original writer and altogether the most striking debater in his society.
He was graduated with high, though not distinguished standing in 1854. He went immediately to the Harvard Law School. The next year he returned to Cincinnati and entered the law office of his father's friend, Thomas Corwin. A year later he married Miss Mollyneaux, of Oxford, to whom he had been engaged while at college, and started to Europe on a bridal tour, which was prolonged for a twelvemonth.
On his return he purchased the Hamilton Intelligencer, the Republican organ of his native county, and for the next two years edited it. He had never intended to practice his profes- sion, but he improved the opportunities of leisure now afforded him, to review and extend his studies. Then disposing of his
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newspaper, he retired to his farm, near that of his father, in the vicinity of Hamilton, and was engaged in improving it and building, when the war broke out.
. His tastes and his superb horsemanship naturally inclined him to the cavalry service. There was a great difficulty at first in getting cavalry companies accepted, and recruiting was con- sequently discouraged. But he enlisted himself as a private, and soon had the nucleus of a company. The Government could not be induced to furnish horses in time, and to get the company off for the West Virginia campaign he advanced the funds to purchase twenty-four out of his own pocket. His recruits were united to Captain Burdsall's Cincinnati Company, and Millikin presently became Sergeant, and then Lieutenant. He returned from the three months' campaign in West Virginia, with the confidence of his men and the indorsement of his commanders as the best of the cavalry officers on duty in that department. Thus recommended, he was appointed a Major in the First Regi- ment of Ohio Cavalry, raised for the three years' service.
Colonel Ransom, the first Colonel of the regiment, resigned in January, 1862, and Minor Millikin, the junior Major of the regiment, was promoted to the vacant Coloneley. The promo- tion was based on his acknowledged merits, but it wrought him great harm. One of the officers over whose heads he was thus lifted, was brother to the Governor of the state, another had such influential friends as presently to secure a Brigadier-Gen- eral's commission. All were older than himself. Dissatisfac- tion of course arose, all manner of complaints were made, officers threatened to resign by wholesale, and finally the charge was made that Colonel Millikin was too young and too ignorant of cavalry tactics to lead Ohio's first cavalry regiment.
The result was that he was ordered before a board of reg- ular officers for examination. Some delays ensued, but when at last the examination was held he passed it triumphantly, and received the warmest compliments of his examiners.
While the matter was pending, Colonel Millikin served on the staff of General George H. Thomas. But he was not long to lead the disciplined organization he had created. In the battle of Stone's River he was sent to repel attacks of rebel cavalry on the rear of the army. Seeking to protect a valuable train he ordered a charge, and himself led it. The force of the enemy at that point was superior, and he presently found himself with a small part of his regiment cut off. He refused to surrender, and encouraged his men to cut their way out. A hand-to-hand encounter followed. Colonel Millikin's fine swordmanship en- abled him to protect himself with his saber. After a contest for some minutes with several assailants, one of them, enraged at his obstinate resistance, shot him with a revolver while he was engaged in parrying the strokes of another. The regiment
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charged again a few minutes later and recovered the body, but not before it had been stripped of sword, watch and purse.
After Colonel Millikin's death, General Thomas addressed a letter to the bereaved father, in which are these words: "It affords me the sincerest pleasure to express to you and to Mrs. Millikin my utmost confidence in him, both as a friend and as a brave, accomplished, loyal officer - one on whose judgment and discretion I placed the greatest reliance. By his judicious, forbearing, and yet firm course of conduct, he was enabled to overcome all prejudices against him in his regiment, and his death was sincerely regretted by all. While mourning his loss, you have the consolation of knowing that he fell a Christian , and patriot gallantly defending the honor of his country."
BRIGADIER-GENERAL BEROTH B. EGGLESTON.
Beroth Ballard Eggleston was born in Corinth, Saratoga County, New York, July 14,. 1818. He attended the district school in winter until fifteen years old, then his father moved to New Plymouth, Ohio, where Beroth clerked in a store for a short time, when he went to Chillicothe, Ohio, and apprenticed himself for four years to D. Adams & Co. He afterwards em- barked in the dry goods business, but this proved unsatisfactory. He studied law three years and then traveled through the coun- try, doing a large collecting and pettifogging business. From that he turned his attention to the lumber business with Mr. Massie, of Massieville. While here he received from President Fillmore the appointment of Postmaster and retained the office three years. After Mr. Massie's death he entered into partner- ship with Job Stevenson and engaged in farming, which he gave up in June, 1861, to begin the career of a soldier. He married, in 1844, Martha M. Phillips, of Chillicothe. Five chil- dren were born of this union - Arthur, Edward, Clara, Mary and Laura. Mrs. Eggleston died in Mississippi in 1867. Gen- eral Eggleston died in Wichita, Kansas, May 27, 1890.
After leaving the army General Eggleston became a citizen of Mississippi. He settled on a plantation and soon became engaged in politics. At the Constitutional Convention he was elected its President, and remained so until its close. He was the first Governor elected in Mississippi after the war, but as Congress would not then re-admit the state, he did not take his seat .. He was then appointed Collector of Internal Revenue. Then he bought the gas-works in Columbus, Miss., and in 1878 he sold out all interest in Mississippi and moved to Wichita, Kansas, where he lived until his death.
He enlisted in Company E, First O. V. C., August 8, 1861, and was promoted to Captain, August 29, 1861; promoted to Major, June 20, 1862; to Colonel, April 1, 1863; Brevet Brig- adier-General, March 13, 1865, and was mustered out with his
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regiment at Hilton Head, S. C., September 13, 1865. Colonel Eggleston was with the regiment almost continuously from the time of its organization until the regiment was mustered out; and on the Atlanta Campaign, when Colonel Long, who com- manded the brigade, was wounded, August 20, 1864, he was assigned to the command of the brigade, which he commanded until the close of that campaign. In the cavalry campaign under General Wilson, in the spring of 1865, he commanded the regi- ment and received the surrender of Atlanta at the end of that campaign. The fact that he served more than four years is sufficient evidence of his patriotism, and his promotion from a private to the rank of Brigadier-General shows without com- ment that he was an officer of ability and that he had the con- fidence of the distinguished soldiers under whom he served. After the surrender of Atlanta he proceeded with his regiment to Orangeburg, S. C., and was appointed by General Gilmore Chief of Staff for the department, which position he held until mustered out.
LIEUTENANT-COLONEL VALENTINE CUPP.
Valentine Cupp was born June 30, 1830, at Pleasantville, Fairfield County, Ohio, and was married March 12, 1850, to Han- nah Winter of same county. Four children survive him. He was a farmer and stock dealer up to the time of entering the service. Died September 20 at battle of Chickamauga, was buried there, and was afterwards removed to Greenlawn, Columbus, Ohio.
He was commissioned Captain of Company F, First O. V. C., September 5, 1861; promoted to Major, December 31, 1862, and to Lieutenant-Colonel, April 1, 1863. Killed at battle of Chickamauga, Ga., September 20, 1863.
Colonel Cupp, as a Captain and in all the grades through which he served, was one of the most popular officers in the regiment. He was at all times and under all circumstances the same genial, high-toned gentleman and true soldier. Kind- hearted to a fault, and if he had occasion to discipline or punish a soldier, he was sure to pay him back tenfold by some act of kindness the first opportunity that offered. He served in the regiment two years and fifteen days, at the front at all times, and commanded the regiment through the Tullahoma and Chick- amauga Campaign with distinction. It is sufficient to say of his service that he never shirked any duty and was held in high esteem by General Thomas and General Long.
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