USA > Pennsylvania > History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania volunteer cavalry which was recruited and known as the Anderson cavalry in the rebellion of 1861-1865; > Part 14
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I first started to the St. Cloud Hotel, thinking that some of the officers there could tell me something about him. I met with no success, and was crossing the street to go to the Medical Direc- tory, when I heard a familiar voice call my name. I had not heard that voice for more than a year, and although it was dark and 600 miles from where I last heard it, I at once recognized it as the voice of my old chum Will, now Lieutenant McClure. From him I learned that my brother was alive, and from all ac- counts had a chance of recovery, but, strange to say, he could not be found. "Come along with me and see Mrs. B .; she is a great friend of Frank's, and knows more about it than anyone
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else." In a few minutes I was in Mrs. B.'s parlor, listening to her story, which ran thus :
Dr. Kelly, one of our army Surgeons with whom she was well acquainted, had dressed Frank's wounds on the second day after he was shot. He was then at a house near Murfreesboro. Al- though so badly wounded as to be thought mortally so by some, Dr. Kelly thought with his youth and powerful constitution he might get through. Only two days ago a Surgeon, who was out in front and had brought a lot of wounded into Nashville, told Dr. Kelly that he had dressed the wounds of a Major out in the front, who was shot through the left breast ; that the young man had given him directions where to send word to his friends, in case he died, and in corroboration handed Dr. Kelly a slip of paper with the following directions: "Dr. W. A. Ward, Pitts- burg." He further said that the Major had been brought into Nashville with other wounded, and that he was put in a private house where he would receive all attention, but he could not give Dr. Kelly the location of the house. Dr. Kelly had searched for him at the request of Mrs. B., but had not found him.
I was satisfied that Frank was now in Nashville, and started off on the hunt. Before I started Mrs. B. told me to let her know as soon as I found him, and she would fix a place for him and see him properly attended to. I said to myself as I left her door : "God bless you for a true-hearted woman." In the street in a large city, my brother lying seriously wounded in a private house. Where? Echo answered "where?" With Lieutenant McClure I commenced my search-first to the Medical Directory office, then to the hospitals where officers were, and every place I could think of where I might get a clue. Every now and again I would pass up the street where the principal undertaker had his store, and there on the pavement two rough coffins, each containing a metallic case, would stare me in the face-one marked "Major Rosengarten," the other "Major Ward." Oh, how those grue- some boxes worried me! I cannot describe my feelings every time I looked at them. There was my brother's coffin, and, beyond a reasonable doubt, he was alive and in the city, but where? At midnight I had to give it up for lack of chances for information. It looked as if all the principal buildings were illuminated, all in use as hospitals, and every time I would pass
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one of them I would naturally inquire of myself: "Can he be there?" and then reply: "No, at a private house."
About I o'clock I retired in a room where were two wounded men, but long before daylight I was out again on my search. I will not attempt to describe my hunt on the 9th instant, nor how many and various were the rumors in regard to my brother. One man said he had seen a man who told him he saw my brother's coffin marked and shipped in the express office. Straight to that office I went and found that they had shipped no bodies yet, and on tracing the story up, I found that it originated from that box in the street that fairly haunted me-a coffin marked "Major F. B. Ward," but so far empty. In fact so strong was the evidence that my brother was in the city (circumstantial evidence strong enough to convict a man for murder) that we traced him to Cherry Street and, finding no other course, we commenced knocking at the doors of private houses and asking : "Are there any wounded here?" "Yes." "Who are they and where are they wounded?". The answer in all cases was against my hopes. There were Lieutenant McClure and four others be- sides myself hunting the Major, but darkness came on and still no success ; but the evidence was so positive that he was alive and recovering that I sought the colored man who had the coffins in charge and told him I would not detain him longer-that he might go right East with Major Rosengarten's body, which was already in another coffin. So, giving him a draft for the two coffins and expenses, I let him go. I could have sold the coffins at a handsome advance, but I felt it would be invoking a judg- ment on me, in my trouble, to try to profit on the misery around me. At the request of Lieutenant McClure and the others, I walked out to the camp of the Anderson Cavalry, to stay all night with my brother's companions in arms. After arriving at camp, and while passing up one of the streets of the tents, we heard some one say : "Well, I saw our Major to-day, and he is doing first rate." I was in that tent in less time than it takes to tell it and soon learned all. Captain Smith, of the Anderson Cavalry, had the day before gone out to Murfreesboro to look after the wounded, and had just returned. He found my brother at the house of Dr. Manson, near where he first fell, where he was first carried and whence he had never been removed. Dr.
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Kelly had dressed his wounds there, as also the other Surgeon must have done, but how he came by the slip of paper I have never learned. The Captain told me that the Surgeons said my brother would recover. He had now lived eleven days. His voice was firm and he had sent in for some delicacies. He had asked if I was coming, and his Comrades had told him I was, although they had not heard so. Just as the mercury in a ther- mometer, taken from the outside of a house on a winter day and hung above the kitchen fireplace, rises, so did my spirits rise. I rode back to town and turned the coffins over to the undertaker. I was glad to get rid of the sight of them, and hurried back to camp again to make an early start for the front in the morning.
That night was one of the most pleasant I ever spent in or out of camp. There were about ten soldiers in the party, all warm friends of my brother, who had served with him both as private and officer. Lighting our pipes, all the anecdotes of the fight and how nobly their two Majors had acted were discussed, and joke after joke was told. One I well remember. Lieutenant Sproul asked the party if they knew that I had gone into business in Nashville. In answer to the question, "how?" he said I had gone into the coffin business, as he had seen me buy and sell two coffins that evening. Such is human nature! While on the hunt for twenty-four hours for the Major, every man seemed as anxious as myself, but now that he was found living and likely to recover, no joke was spared that would keep alive the spirits of the party. About II o'clock I "turned in" with one of the party, with gum blanket on the ground and a good warm one to cover us. The last time I had slept in that way was with Frank at Camp Car- lisle. It had been raining all evening and was now coming down in torrents, and every now and then the wind would rise and break with such force against our tent as to give cause to fear we might be unroofed. After breakfast we started into town in an ambulance. We spent some time in search of delicacies, and then could not get what we most wanted-lemons. We met with so many delays that it was 12 o'clock ere we were fairly started out of the city. There was not much of interest until we were five miles out, and then a dead horse here and there, with occa- sionally a grave or two on either side of the road, told of the commencement of the skirmishing. Not a fence was left to show
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that the residences along this pike were once well improved. Those that were not removed for cavalry fighting had been used as fuel for the soldiers. The same scenes were apparent all the way to Murfreesboro, only increasing in magnitude with every mile of approach. We caught up to a wagon train about seven miles out from Nashville, and it seemed impossible to pass it, as the other side of the road was taken up by empty wagons return- ing and ambulances filled with wounded. We had twenty miles farther to go, and our time must be made on the pike, for the last seven miles was a wretched mud road. Captain Smith told me not to be uneasy, for the soldier who was driving was as anxious to get to the Major as I was. Also that he was a capital driver, and if the team would stand it we would pass everything on the road.
The driver was a man who, when at home, filled a position in society equal to any. That's the kind of men we have fighting for our country. I was soon satisfied of the truth of the Captain's remark, for we did pass everything. Now and then some of the soldiers, escorting the train of 400 wagons, would swear and look defiantly, but our driver proved an excellent judge of human nature, for sometimes he would sing out: "Give away there !" "Stir yourself !" "Do you want to be run over ?" "Clear the track, will you?" Then noticing the stubborn, determined look of some of the party not to be moved in that way, he would, in the bland- est tones, say: "Will you oblige me by making room to pass ? Am in a great hurry to get a wounded officer out front." With- out a word the escort would move, bending to his request like an easy, good-natured judge to an oily-tongued lawyer. And thus, driving and pushing through intricacies that might have balked a regular jockey, he worked on, and we did pass everything on the road. At Lavergne we stopped at the little creek and watered our team. Here they showed me where some of their comrades fell when the enemy attacked the wagon train in the rear, and right at the bridge one of their number, Mr. Weikel, is buried. When started again I opened a box of sardines, and with some hard bread we made a good luncheon. All this time Lieutenant McClure was accompanying us on horseback. Pass- ing out the sardines to him, he took his dinner at a full gallop as comfortably as we did inside, and riding up to the ambulance we handed him the flask, which he attended to just as easily, if not
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more so, than the eating part. I wanted no better evidence of how men learn to live on horseback than the ease with which my friend stowed away his dinner while on full gallop.
Here at Lavergne was a true picture of war-houses burned, dead horses in scores, and graves in abundance of both Union and rebel soldiers; while the tires and ironwork of sixty of our wagons, burnt by the rebels, completed a picture which has to be seen to be conceived. So many accounts of the fight have been written that I will not attempt to go over it again, but from here on to Murfreesboro was one continual battlefield-every foot of it fought for and won by the most stubborn fighting. None of the accounts that I have since read relates half the victory that here showed itself. Three miles farther out we overtook the conveyance that had started two hours in advance of us. We had now passed everything, and at the twenty-mile post from Nashville we turned to the right into a corn field. We all got out but our good driver, as our team was pretty nearly played out, and, to make matters worse, our best horse began to balk ; but, by dint of a good whip and language more emphatic than classical, we would get him started again, until he would take an- other notion to play the stubborn mule. We made the next seven miles by dark, through miserable roads, and when only half a mile from the house where my brother was, we came to a large mud puddle. Our driver held his team at rest for a few moments and then started at full gallop to go through, for, as he said, "if I cannot get them through that way we shall have trouble; the bay will balk and the gray mare is played out." When about half way through they stuck, the hind wheels in water above the hub. As nearly everyone has seen such situations, I will not go into details of the strong language used, the sticks broken in trying to beat the poor brutes out of it, and the many efforts with rails, etc .; but after spending half an hour uselessly, we all, ex- cepting our driver, got into the water and took hold of the wheels. I happened to be at the right hind wheel, and although the water was over the hub, where I stood it was not over boot top. It never occurred to me that if the team did start out I might go in the hole. It did start and I went in up to my knees, but what did I care? I would soon be with my brother, and I would have laid down in it rather than lose an hour. We were soon at the front
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of the house, where a big negro, a slave, was waiting. He had heard of me from one of the men who arrived before I did, and he it was who was nursing the Major.
He was all anxiety. "Has the Major's brudder come? Is he coming ? I wants to see him." Telling him who I was, he shook my hand and was out of sight in an instant. One of the men who was in the room with Frank when old Martin, the slave, came up said he did not think Martin took more than two steps up the whole flight of stairs to tell the good news. He stepped up to the bed and said: "Major, your brudder's comin'. He'll soon be here. Ise so glad." The host, Dr. Manson, met me at the gate, and to my inquiry, "How is my brother ?" said: "Very feeble just now. I have just dressed his wounds and he has had a sinking spell, but is now recovering, and I am glad you are here." He further said that he still had a chance of recovery, but that he must not be allowed to talk. I might talk to him and tell him all about home, but he must be kept quiet. He said he was shot through the left lung, the ball passing through the pericar- dium (the sac that holds the heart), and the water from about the heart had run out through the wound. The ball made its exit under his left shoulder blade, making a ghastly wound there. When they brought him to the doctor's house it was thought he could not survive the night, but he rallied toward morning, and now, having lived twelve days, we had good grounds for hope. The doctor told me to go up and see him, and I was soon beside his bed. He stretched out his hand, and, with a good voice, said : "How are you, Will? I'm glad to see you. How are they at home?" I told him not to talk and I would tell him all about home, which I did, giving him an account of my trip, etc. Poor fellow ! When I last saw him, not two months before, he weighed 175 pounds, and being six feet two inches in his socks, was as fine a specimen of the physical man as could be found anywhere; but twelve days of bleeding and suffering of the worst kind had altered him until he looked twice his age. I told him I had come to stay with him, and when he was able we would talk over old times and home; so, hanging my coat on the bedpost and drawing off my wet boots, I sat down before the fire. For the first time since I left home I had time to meditate. I had found the boy alive, but that was all.
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My other erring brother was not many miles off, for shortly after the Major was brought to this very house I was now in some rebel troops came up and took prisoners all that were in it, excepting my brother Frank and a comrade who escaped by a little strategy. Among the rebels was a Captain of the Fourth Kentucky Cavalry, the same regiment to which my brother Charlie belonged. Mrs. Manson, the lady of the house, sent word by this Captain to Charlie that his brother was in a dying condition in her house, but before he had time to respond to the call, our troops were in possession again of the house, and this prevented a meeting of the brothers who were fighting against each other-the one for the cause of liberty and the preservation of the Union, the other for a cursed aristocracy. Poor, blind, misguided man ! May he soon leave a hopeless and wicked cause, and by some means retrieve his acts !
I sent the nurse to bed, after getting directions what to do. Frank wanted to talk, but I would stop him, and every now and then he would ask for water. Two full canteens were kept hang- ing at the head of the bed, and inserting a rubber tube in the can- teen he would take the other end in his mouth and drink, although every swallow was a painful one. He now commenced to doze, and when half asleep would dream and be delirious. Sometimes he would imagine himself in camp with his old comrades down in Huntsville, Ala., and then he seemed happy. To stop his talking, which was injurious, I would have to speak to him, and, knowing my voice, he would be quiet for a while. Sometimes he would imagine himself on the field where he fell, and would give orders again. He was talking to his brave cavalry leader, General Stanley, whom it was plain to see he had learned to love; and thus, until 3 o'clock Sunday morning, he kept on, when, thinking he was worse, I awoke his comrade, John Skillen, who was his nurse at present, and told him I thought he was more delirious than when I came in, and that he, knowing his case, had better take charge, which he did. Through the night I had written a long letter home, encouraging them there, for now that my hopes were raised, I thought he would get well. Folding the letter up I put it in my pocket to send the next day, and lay down beside the sick soldier, who occupied the other bed.
About 6 o'clock I got up, and Mr. Skillen told me that he had
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not been so well for the past three hours, but that he would no doubt soon rally. I did not fear anything immediately, as I knew from experience that the hours from 2 A.M. until daylight are the hardest on sick persons. So, after speaking to him occa- sionally, I went downstairs to breakfast. We were seated but a few moments, and I was just putting my cup of coffee to my lips, when a hand was laid on my shoulder. I turned round and met the gaze of Dr. Manson, who said : "You had better come up- stairs, your brother is dying." For the first time I felt crushed. Just after I had left his bedside he turned to his faithful comrade. Skillen, and said : "John, I am going now." Mr. Skillen called the doctor, who found it too true, and came at once for me. I was soon at his side, and reaching out his hand to me he grasped mine and said in a calm, clear voice : "Will, I am dying. Say good-bye for me to all at home." Completely unmanned, I was like a little child. He threw his arms around my neck, and kiss- ing me, said: "Cheer up, Will! Don't cry! Cheer up! Tell Charlie I died like a man." I said: "Frank, are you afraid to die ?" A sweet smile spread over his face, and with a firm voice he said, "No, sir," in a tone that made all feel it deeply.
The same self-possession that was his in private life, that at- tended him on the battlefield when he felt he was mortally wounded, attended him now in his dying hour. Every other person in that room was overcome. He bade each of his com- rades good-bye, as though he were going away on a visit, and seeing old Martin, the faithful slave who had nursed him, he held out his hand and, taking Martin's, said: "Good-bye, Martin;" then bade the doctor and his family farewell. In a few moments he rallied a little and, folding his hands on his breast, he said: "Our Father, who are in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Amen." While everyone in that room joined in that beautiful prayer, his voice alone could be heard, and this too while suffer- ing intensely. Internal hemorrhage had set in. He asked me to sing, but I was so powerless I could not, and he began to the tune of "Old Hundred," and sang :
"Be Thou, O God, exalted high ! And as Thy glory fills the sky, So let it be on earth displayed, Till Thou art here as there obeyed."
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His calmness and resignation overcame everyone in the room. His song seemed like the song of the dying swan, strong in death. Shortly afterward he released his arms from about my neck, and his lower limbs were then icy cold. Beckoning to Lieutenant McClure, who was on the other side of him, he said : "Straighten my legs." His knees had been drawn up in bed and he had not power to straighten them out. He made a motion for us to get away from before him; he wanted air and light. So drawing the curtains and hoisting the window, a stream of strong sunlight beamed in on his suffering form, and lingering thus for nearly half an hour, between life and death, we hardly knew when he ceased to breathe, until Captain Smith took down a little round shaving glass, and holding it to his lips it showed no moist- ure. Thus he died-another victim to the plots of the disunion- ists.
We were far away from home, in the enemy's country and in the house of a secessionist, but how beautifully was Christ's com- mand, "love your enemy," here obeyed; for if Frank had been their own son the doctor and his wife could not have used him more kindly. I asked Lieutenant McClure to ride to Nashville and, if possible, to procure one of the coffins I had sold two days before, and also to telegraph his death home. The doctor and the soldiers who were present told me to go down to rest and they would do all that was necessary for the body. I went out in front of the house and found a man putting the horses in the am- bulance and preparing it for the body. Looking out on the road I saw four men approaching at full gallop. In a few minutes they were at the gate, and I recognized Lieutenant Maple, of General Rosecrans' bodyguard, and three of his men-all old comrades of the Major. When I told them that he had died only twenty minutes previously, the eyes of every man of them filled with tears. Dismounting, they entered the house to take a fare- well look at their old comrade. While they were upstairs I called the doctor aside. As he attended Frank as physician, I fully expected a bill for professional services as well as for the bed, which was ruined. I asked him what I owed him. "Noth- ing," was the reply. I could hardly believe it, but he would accept no compensation. Hunting up old Martin, the kind, faithful nurse, I made him a present, and then was ready to leave.
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In a short time they brought the body down, dressed only in drawers and shirt; everything else was gone. I would not wait to make a box, so, wrapping a blanket around him, after binding the jaw and limbs, they put him in the ambulance. I felt a repugnance to riding in the ambulance, so John Skillen told me to take his horse and he would ride in my place. When mounted Lieutenant Maple proposed that I should ride over the ground where he fell, and then go to Rosecrans' headquarters, to which I gladly assented, and we started off at full gallop. In a short time we were on ground that told of severe fighting, and after wandering over field after field, and seeing corpses that had lain unburied for ten days, we came to the spot where the brave Andersons made their fearful charge. The men first recognized the spot by the black horse Major Rosengarten rode. This horse had been in service since General Buell first took command in 1861. He belonged to Captain Palmer, the founder of the original Anderson Troop, and the present Anderson Cavalry. Major Rosengarten rode him in the fight, and the horse was killed first, he afterward. "Here's the spot! Here's old Zollicoffer" (the horse). Sure enough, every man knew him. Just beside was a tree that a shell had pierced, and someone, cutting a smooth surface, had put Rosengarten's name there, with the date of his death. The ground seemed to be sacred. Here my two brothers had met, not to know each other, for the last time on earth. After picking up some relics we rode over some more of the field and proceeded on to Murfreesboro.
While fording Stone River I noticed hundreds of brick chim- neys standing, and asked Lieutenant Maple if that was the ruins of Murfreesboro. He laughed and said : "No; they are the chimneys the rebels had in their tents. They did not intend leaving here, and consequently made themselves comfortable." Murfreesboro was soon in sight. We were soon at Rosecrans' headquarters, a nice-looking, well-furnished, two-story house. John Morgan, the bandit, had taken to himself a wife two weeks before the fight, and this was the house, fitted up for the bride and groom. Sending in my card, I was soon in the room with General Rose- crans and staff. He shook me cordially by the hand and ex- pressed such deep sympathy for the loss of my brother, and spoke so highly of his heroic conduct, that I felt that my sorrow had
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