USA > Ohio > Greene County > Greene County soldiers in the late war : being a history of the Seventy-fourth O.V.I., with sketches of the Twelfth, Ninety-Fourth, One Hundred and Tenth, Forty-Fourth, Tenth Ohio Battery, One Hundred and Fifty-Fourth, Fifty-Fourth, Seventeenth, Thirty-Fourth, One Hundred and Eighty-Fourth, together with a list of Greene County's soldiers > Part 16
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Allen Powers,
George Bragg,
Henry Conklin,
John S. McGregor,
James Stipe.
Roster of 54th Regiment.
Michael Bradley, George Marshall, John Robinson, John Goldsberry, Otway Owens, Richard Campion, 16
Wm. Connor, Wm. Beall,
Charles F. Beall,
James W. Beall, Albert Black, L. Maddox.
Roster of 34th Regiment.
Captain S. R. S. West, First Lieut. Albert Nesbitt, Second Lieut: A. S. Frazer, Orderly Serg't Frank Millward, Sergeant I. C. Hutchins, Sergeant N. P. Marvell,
Sergeant H. J. Marshall, Sergeant C. L. McClure, Corporal John Tarbox,
Corporal J. A. McNichols, Corporal E. D. Roberts, Corporal John H. Placke, Corporal F. A. Austin, Corporal John H. McCurren, Corporal Staley F. Stemble,
Corporal James Benson, Fifer Dwight K. Frost, Drummer Wm. Thompson.
PRIVATES.
Wm. R. Adams, Theodore C. Aarons, George W. Atchley, Wm. H. Austin, Thomas Ball, Dudley W. Beall, Lewis Beall, Matthew Bigger, James R. Bull, John W. Cartwright, Edward Clevell,
Simon Cook, Ed. M. Cordle, Frank Curl, Wm. Davis, Wm. Delahunt, Anthony Ebleheart, George W. Ebright,
John M. Ford, James I. Fulton, Theodore Guggenheimer, F. G. Hale, Wm. Harris, Theodore Harrison, Morton L. Hawkins, Wm. C. Higginson, John F. E. Hillen,
Wm. Hitzing, Wm. H. Hull,
Aust. M. Kelly, Wm. H. King, Wm. H. Kinnan,
Alex. C. Kyle, John M. Lawrie,
Benjamin II. Likens, John W. Logan.
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THE THIRTY-FOURTH.
George Lowe, Wm. L. Luark, John Melien,
John Sachs, Permetus K. Sale,
Edgar Mehen,
Wesley D. Sebring, Charles Shinkle, John W. Shorten,
Wm. Meshwert,
Randolph Metcalf,
Henry S. Shue,
Ben. F. Mullen,
John W. Smith,
Willis D. McDonald,
Ed. H. Stevens, J. C. Stewart, Andrew Stires,
Wm. H. Newbold,
Daniel Stratton,
John W. Puckham,
Wm. Strohmeir,
Wm. A. Patterson,
A. B. Swenk,
Valentine Percifield,
James A. Thompson,
Alva L. Peters,
Innis A. Townsley,
Jason D. Phillips,
James W. Watson,
James M. Rhodes,
John Williams,
Asa D. Robbins,
James B. Winter,
Milton Rogers,
Peter Rollar,
Wm. F. Rosenbarger.
John G. Winter, J. G. Worthington,
Robert E. McCormick,
Napoleon McGrew,
Roster of 184th Regiment.
Colonel Henry S. Comager, Lieut. Col. Chandler W. Carroll, Major E. S. Dodd, Surgeon L. G. Meyer.
Ass't Surg. Rob't A. Richardson, Ass't Surgeon Henry H. Shaw, Ass't Surgeon Emmet W. Price,
CAPTAINS.
Levi S. Jamison, Joseph Allen, Joseph W. Wise, J. D. Moler, George P. Davis,
Wm. J. Widener, Luman P. P. Folkerth, Simon Perkins, John McNeil, James Barrett.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
George A. Ells, Alex M. Duck,
Jerome Dubois, David A. Murphy,
Charles W. Gerwig, Robert Detwiler, Joseph McCreary, Henry C. Canfield,
John Giller, Joseph A. Blair.
Wm. H. Bettis,
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Harry Davis, Hiram Reed, Alonzo Langdon, Charles E. Warren, Harrison P. Taylor,
Michael Steck, Frank Hatton, Wm. F. Langdon, John W. Horton, David H. Comager.
245
THE ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FOURTH.
COMPANY K.
Sam Cox, W. A. Hopkins,
Robert Armstrong, Andrew Armstrong, Cyrus Hush,
Abram Reed, Wm. Dugan, Elmer Hopkins,
Frank Wilder,
J. R. Record, Nathaniel Collins,
John Hume,
Wm. M. King,
Frank McCreary,
James Stratton,
James Bailey,
Isaac Stratton,
J. T. Collett,
James Kershner,
Mike Bradley,
David Connor,
Jesse Record, Samuel Clark,
Wm. Connor,
Nathan King,
W'm. Kiler,
Dan Shafer,
George Kiler,
Jerry Shafer,
Charley Brewer.
Wm. Baker,
John Brewer,
James Caldwell.
Thomas Toole,
George Carlisle,
Pat Abbey,
Joseph S. Wilson,
Moses Hopping,
John Huston,
Frank Shroaf,
Johnson Weakly. Albert Kelly.
John Schulnerer, I. T. Confer,
A. Collins, John Skellen.
Snoden Lawrence,
Roster of 3d N. Y. Calvary.
James L. Lantz, L. H. Whiteman, Jerry L. Whiteman, Theodore Collier,
D. D. Barns, W. V. Lawrence, John T. Hogue, W. A. Bitner, George W. Bitner.
Harvey E. Kandall, Gustave Schilling, James Rickets, Andrew Hutchinson, John Q. A. Goe, C. C. Robinson, Hank B. Keplar, Joseph M. Barlow,
Roster of 1st Ohio Reg. Inf'y.
COMPANY E.
Lieutenant S. Ewing. L. H. Boots. Thomas Curl. j. M. Jones. Isaac Rudduck,
Joseph Cummings.
James Harris.
Robert Cross. Mike Geisner. Martin Buckly. Tohn Cain.
Mike Brenmen. Joshua Jones. John Faller. Tehn Kisan.
Mitchel Reason. James Sheppard. Robert Jones. Win. Moses. Levi Steigle. John Skellon.
James Tharpe.
ERRATA.
Officers of Company E., Seventy-Fourth Regiment, O. V. I.
The following officers were overlooked in furnishing roster to the printer, hence their appearance here :
Second Lieut. Thomas Kirby,
Captain Joseph Fisher, First Lieut. H. H. Herring, First Sergeant Peter O. Benham, First Lieut. B. F. Shickley.
Anecdotes and Incidents.
PRACTICAL JOKING
Sometimes the boys would indulge in playing tricks on each other. I will give an incident or two: One time, soon after the battle of Stone River, while we were yet occupying the old Sibley tents, the boys concluded that they would have a little sport at the expense of one of their comrades : accordingly they arranged to have some singing, one evening. in one of the tents. They came in until the tent was pretty nearly full. They placed a stool near the middle of the tent, to which they invited the singer-having previously placed some cartridges under the seat. The singer took his seat. and atter singing one or two songs, which were loudly encored. which was to produce the impression that there was no trick in it, one of the boys called for the song of " Reuben Wright and Phebe Brown." and at the verse where the old man shot at Reuben, which was the signal, one of the boys, set fire to the cartridges, which lifted stool, singer and all, about two feet high. singeing his hair and whiskers, and filling the tent with smoke. When it cleared away there was not a man to be seen. they having taken to their heels, leaving the poor fellow without an audience. It is unnec- essary to add that the entertainment was suddenly brought to a close. The victim of the above joke was the author of this book. The boys acknowledged, however, that they carried the joke a little too far, there being more powder than they thought
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GREENE COUNTY IN THE WAR.
there was. It was a long time before I found out who ignited the cartridges. If I had known it then I would have made it pretty hot for them; but then everybody was ignorant of who did it.
Another practical joke was perpetrated on a couple of the boys who were bunking together. It was while we were on the march one evening, late. Just before we halted there was the appearance of a heavy rain coming up. We halted on the side of the hill, and commenced putting up our shelter-tents. After erecting the tents we then had to dig trenches around them to keep the water from running through them. It soon commenced raining, and rained very hard. The two boys whom I men- tioned had their tent just below one of the boys, who was a very mischievous fellow, full of fun, and, by the way, a good- hearted fellow and a good soldier. Jim got up, and procuring a shovel, succeeded in turning the water into the aforesaid boys' tent, completely deluging them with water, and causing them to get up and move their tent to a drier spot, and to use expletives not very orthodox. Although the joker did it at the expense of getting completely drenched himself, when the boys emerged from their tent Jim was apparently sound asleep in his own.
Another time, while we were on the march, we had halted in the edge of the wood, by the roadside, for dinner. I think this was a forced march, and we had only time to eat a lunch. A joke was played on our captain. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, eating his lunch from his haversack. One of the boys had caught a lizard - a harmless little reptile, found in the South-and slipping up behind the captain put it into his haversack. He put his hand into the sack for a hard tack, when, feeling something cold, he withdrew his hand very sud- denly, while at the same time his face became as red as a beet, and demanded, in not very soft language, 'who the perpetrator was; but no one knew anything about it-all were very busy devouring their luncheons.
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ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
Practical joking was not always very safe, as it came very near costing one man his life. One night, after the sentinels had been posted, a certain corporal thought he would scare one of the guards - who was considered not very bright-by ap- proaching him, and trying to make him believe he was a rebel, demanding his gun. But the fellow was not so dumb as he thought he was. He halted him, but paying no attention to him kept on advancing, when the sentinel drew up his gun, and was about to let him have the contents, when he had to make himself known by giving the countersign.
Another incident happened, but not exactly of the same nature. Two soldiers concocted a plan to pass out through the lines one night. They were to get down on all fours, and root and grunt like a hog. One of them started in advance, and ยท succeeded in passing the sentinel apparently unobserved. The other, emboldened by the success of his comrade, attempted the same feat. He had got about half way through in the same- manner, when the guard suddenly whirled around, with the exclamation " that there were too many doggone hogs around," and at the same time striking our hero fairly in the side with a: stone, laying him out for a few minutes. The guard became alarmed, rushing up to him, said, "Jake, I threw harder than I intended ; I knew it was you all the time." Jake concluded that he was not a very good hog after all.
SHERIDAN'S RIDE.
It was the night before the battle of Cedar Creek. In the" war office at Washington sat Mr. Stanton in close conversation with General Phil. Sheridan. There were some grave questions being discussed between them, for the talk lasted long after midnight. General Thomas T. Eckert, superintendent of mil-
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GREENE COUNTY IN THE WAR.
itary telegraph lines, was in an adjoining room, watching for sounds of alarm from the front, or important telegrams from any of the advancing armies in the field. A new day was fast approaching the dawn, and the war minister and the general still continued their earnest conversation. A click of the instrument caught General Eckert's ear. It was Winchester calling the war office. His skilled hand touched the key in ready response, and a moment later the words came :
" There is danger here. Hurry Sheridan to the front."
Quick as a flash the message was handed to the two men in the next room in close conversation about the campaign in the Shenandoah Valley. Sheridan went to the instrument, and there was a moment of hurried talk over the wires between him and his headquarters, when Secretary Stanton gave directions to General Eckert to telegraph the railroad authorities of the Balti- more & Ohio to clear the road, and to at once provide relays of special engines to take Sheridan to the scene of the coming battle as fast as steam could carry him. General Eckert worked the wire himself, and gave hurried directions to the railroad officials as to what to do in this emergency. While he sat with his hand on the key, perfecting the train arrangements, Stanton and Sheridan had a few hurried final words, each countenance bear- ing the marks of earnestness, not unmingled with anxiety. The train schedule was soon made, Sheridan left the war office, and was driven to the station with all possible speed. A panting engine had just backed in as he arrived, and jumping aboard, the engineer, instructed to make the Relay House in the shortest possible time, pulled the starting-bar, and away sped the train. It had a clear track, and reached its destination - thirty miles away-in much less than an hour. Here an engine of the main line stood waiting to take him to Harper's Ferry- seventy miles beyond. There were no obstructions all the way up. Every moving train had been side-tracked, and every
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ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
other precaution taken to prevent accident to the on-rushing engine bearing Sheridan to the camp where his army lay. While this train was making its run all was anxiety in the war office. Every telegraph station reported its progress to General Eckert, and he to Secretary Stanton, who still lingered, that he might know when Sheridan reached his destination.
AT HARPER'S FERRY.
Three hours passed-dull, anxious hours to those waiting, every moment of which seemed laden with lead. Harper's Ferry at last reports Sheridan's arrival, and a fresh engine stood ready to take him to Winchester-thirty miles up the valley. Not a moment is lost at the hamlet among the rocks, when Sher- idan boards the waiting messenger, and an hour later word speeds over the wires : "Sheridan just reached Winchester." The run had been made in the quickest time ever known on the road, and the worn and anxious officials at the war office breathed a sigh of relief as the click of the telegraph announced that the journey had been completed.
Eighteen, or perhaps twenty, miles of turnpike stretched away up the charming valley that had been made desolate by the torch and tramp of armies. As that charming region, clad in the garb of summer, lay between the mountains, its bright colors reflected in the rays of beautiful sunshine, it was but a sad reminder of the once great granary that for more than three years of conflict had furnished untold supplies to the Confederate army. Sheridan had laid it waste. He had clinched with and beaten Early at Winchester, and while he was being carried with all possible speed back to the scenes of his operations, the tide of battle was ebbing and flowing upon a new field, and the fate of the day hung trembling in the balance. For several weary, doubtful hours the two armies had been in deadly conflict. When Sheridan arrived at Winchester the roar of artillery and
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GREENE COUNTY . IN THE WAR.
the roll of musketry could be distinctly heard from the field of carnage along Cedar Creek. Down the valley came the awful din, echoing louder and louder through the still summer air as the battle grew fiercer.
There was but short delay at Winchester, the chief town in the lower valley. There Sheridan mounted his favorite war horse, a large, beautiful, sinewy, black charger, who had borne his master through the heat of many conflicts. He is dead now, and his body has been preserved, that men yet to come may see the animal whose endurance has been recorded in verse. Through the town and out over the turnpike which leads up the Shenandoah, Sheridan rode. Who, knowing the man, or aught of his character, can not picture the restless rider urging his horse to the best to reach the field where the fate of his army was still pending in the hazard of war? He had only covered a few miles, when the moving mass of debris, that always surges to the rear of a battle-field, when the conflict is severe and doubtful, met his trained eye, and told more plainly than words what was going on in front. It was a signal of distress, and none knew it better than he. The sight fired his heart anew, and only added fresh impetus to his foaming horse. He reached the field after a sleepless night and a terrific journey, and the battle of Cedar Creek was won.
MR. MURDOCH'S LETTER.
This is the true story of Sheridan's ride-I might almost say official story. If he did not stop to gather the stragglers, as a poet's license has pictured, he did carry back the tide that was floating to the rear, because his presence had given fresh stamina to some wavering battalions. The manner of the man, his dash and courage, his reputation and successes, all combined to give heart to those who drifted back, believing the battle had been lost.
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ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
I have been sitting face to face to day, the whole afternoon, with the man who vouches for the above-written words. He is a strong, positive character, just passing three score and ten years crowded with wonderful experiences. As he told this story he warmed with the fire of the event, and his blood was hot with indignation, for he had just read a statement that Sheridan got drunk at Winchester, and did not go to the battle field, where the poet's pen has pictured him.
" Ah, but I'll put an end to all cavil about this story," said he, " what I have told you I got directly from General Eckert himself, who sat with his hand on the key, arranged and watched every stage of Sheridan's ride from Washington to Cedar Creek. He now manages the Western Union Telegraph Company, and will bear witness to these facts. But I have a letter from Sheri- dan. He and I were then, and are now, friends. When I heard of the ride I wrote to ask him about it, and to inquire if I had not ridden the same horse that carried him up the valley while with him at Chattanooga. Mr. Murdoch soon found among his papers the identical letter which General Sheridan wrote in reply.
" I need not tell you how highly it is prized," said the veteran, "for you will see how carefully it has been kept through all these years."
Who is there who has read this country's history that does not know James E. Murdoch-the actor, the reader, the man. It is he who tells this story and furnishes this clinching evidence of the truthful foundation of T. Buchanan Read's poem. Thousands who have watched his matchless representa- tion of Hamlet, or sat under the spell of his dramatic readings, will be glad to know that, although he is passing seventy-three, he is still in excellent health and spirits. He is a tall, robust man, with a clean shaven face, that shows the broad. distinct lines of his strong counten ince to the best advantage. His
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GREENE COUNTY IN THE WAR.
wealth of iron gray hair, and his general carriage, combine to make him a very striking character.
"Although an old man when the war was going on, he- spent a great deal of time with the army, in connection with the sanitary commission and in the hospitals. He was a favorite at the head-quarters of many generals, and witnessed a great deal of the inner features of army life.
THE POEM SUGGESTED.
The story of Sheridan's ride, above written, was but a tithe of the good things he told me. The recital of this matter naturally led up to all the incidents connected with it.
" I was not with Sheridan," he said, " at this time, but was- at the head-quarters of the Army of the Cumberland. Soon after the battle of Cedar Creek I came up to Cincinnati, and was visiting Mr. Cyrus Garrett, whom we called ' Old Cyclops.' He was T. Buchanan Read's brother-in-law, and with him the poet made his home. The ladies of Cincinnati had arranged to give me a reception that finally turned into an ovation. I had given a great many readings to raise funds to assist their Soldiers' Aid Society, and they were going to present me with a silk flag. Pike's Opera-house had been secured-the largest place of amusement in the city -and they had made every arrangement to have the reception a very dramatic event. The morning of the day it was to take place Read and I were, as usual, taking our breakfast late. We had just finished, but were still sitting at the table chatting. Mr. Garrett, the brother-in-law, who was a business man, and guided by business habits, came in while we were thus lounging. He wore an air of impatience, and car- ried a paper in his hand. He walked directly up to Read, unfolded a copy of Harper's Weekly, and held it up before the man so singularly gifted as both poet and painter.
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ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
" The whole front of the paper was covered with a striking picture, representing Sheridan seated on his black horse, just emerging from a cloud of dust that rolled up from the highway as he dashed along, followed by a few troopers.
" "There,' said Mr. Garrett, addressing Read, 'see what you have missed You ought to have drawn that picture your- self, and gotten the credit of it; it is just in your line. The first thing you know somebody will write a poem on that event, and then you will be beaten all around.'
" Read looked at the picture rather quizzically, a look which I interrupted by saying, 'Old Cyclops is right, Read, the subject and the circumstance are worth a poem.'
"'Oh, no,' said Read, 'that theme has been written to death. There is "Paul Revere's Ride," "Lochinvar," Tom Hood's "Wild Steed of the Plains," and half a dozen other poems of like character.'
" Filled with the idea that this was a good chance for the gifted man, I said, 'Read, you are losing a great opportunity. If I had such a poem to read at my reception to-night, it would make a great hit.'
" ' But, Murdoch, you can't order a poem as you would a coat. I can't write anything in a few hours that will do either you or me any credit,' he replied rather sharply.
" I turned to him and said, 'Read, two or three thousand of the warmest hearts in Cincinnati will be in Pike's Opera-house to-night at that presentation. It will be a very significant affair. Now, you go and give me anything in rhyme, and I will give it a deliverance before that splendid audience, and you can then revise and polish it before it goes into print.' This view seemed to strike him favorably, and he finally said, " Well ! Well ! We'll see what can be done," and he went up stairs to his room. 17
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GREENE COUNTY IN THE WAR.
THE POET AT WORK.
" A half hour later Hattie, his wife, a brilliant woman, who is now residing in Philadelphia, came down and said :
" ' He wants a pot of strong tea. He told me to get it for him, and then he would lock the door and must not be disturbed unless the house was afire.'
" Time wore on, and in our talk on other matters in the family circle we had almost forgotten the poet at work up stairs. Dinner had been announced, and we were about to sit down when Read came in and beckoned me to come. When I reached the room he said :
" ' Murdoch, I think I have about what you want.'
" He read it to me, and with an enthusiasm that surprised him, I said :
"' It is just the thing.'
" We dined ; and at the proper time Read and I, with the family, went to Pike's Opera-house. The building was crowded in every part. Upon the stage were sitting two hundred maimed soldiers, each with an arm or a leg off. General Joe Hooker was to present me with the flag the ladies had made, and at the time appointed we marched down the stage toward the footlights, General Hooker bearing the flag. and I with my arm in his. Such a storm of applause as greeted the appearance I never heard, before or since. Behind and each side of us were the rows of crippled soldiers; in front, the vast audience, cheering to the echo. Hooker quailed before the warm reception, and, growing nervous, said to me in an undertone :
" ' I can stand the storm of battle, but this is too much for me '
" ' Leave it to me,' said I; ' I am an old hand behind the footlights. I will divert the strain from you.'
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ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
" So, quickly I dropped upon my knee, took a fold of the silken flag, and pressed it to my lips. This by-play created a fresh storm of enthusiasm, but steadied Hooker, and he pre- sented the flag very gracefully, which I accepted in fitting words.
MURDOCH'S READING.
"I then drew the poem Read had written from my pocket, and, with proper introduction, began reading it to the audience. The vast assemblage became as still as a church during prayer- time, and I read the first three lines without a pause, and then read the fourth :
" Under his spurning feet the road
Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape bowed away behind, Like an ocean dying before the wind ; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace-ire,
Swept on, with his wild eyes full of fire ; But, lo ! he is nearing his heart's desire, He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, With Sheridan only five miles away.
" As this verse was finished the audience broke into a tumult of applause. Then I read, with all the spirit I could command :
" The first that the general saw were the groups Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops ; What was done - what to do - a glance told him both, And, striking his spurs with a terrible oath, He dashed down the lines 'mid a storm of hurrahs And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause. With foam and with dust the black charger was gray ; By the flash of his eyes and his nostrils' play, He seemed to the whole great army to say,
' I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester town to save the day.'
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GREENE COUNTY IN THE WAR.
" The sound of my voice uttering the last word had not died away when cheer after cheer went up from the great con- course that shook the building to its very foundation. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs and men their hats, until worn out with the fervor of the hour. They then demanded the author's name, and I pointed to Read, who was sitting in a box, and he acknowledged the verses. In such a setting, and upon such an occasion as I have been able only faintly to describe to you, the poem of Sheridan's ride was given to the world. It was written in about three hours, and not a word was ever changed after I read it from the manuscript, except by the addition of the third verse, which records the fifteen mile stage of the ride :
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