Bio: John C. Eaton :Pittsfield, Merrimack Co, New Hampshire **************************************************************************** USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free genealogical information on the Internet, data may be freely used for personal research and by non-commercial entities as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages may not be reproduced in any format or presentation by other organizations or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material for profit or any form of presentation, must obtain the written consent of the file submitter, or his legal representative and then contact the listed USGENWEB archivist with proof of this consent. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. http://www.usgwarchives.net. Submitted by: Rick Giirtman rickman@worldpath.net Date: March 15, 2001 **************************************************************************** From the Book 'History of Pittsfield, N. H. in the Rebellion' by H. L. Robinson, published 1893 JOHN C. EATON is a native of Pittsfield, son of John M. and Julia M. (Sargent) Eaton. He always resided in town until he enlisted in Company C, Eighteenth New Hampshire Volunteers, and was mustered into service September 14, 1864, and served until the close of the war. He made a first-class soldier. He is now at Great Falls, N. H., working for the same firm that has employed him for nearly a quarter of a century. A person who never witnessed it cannot understand the enthusiasm that greeted the regiments on their way to the front. As the cars bearing the soldiers passed through the country, men, women, and children could be seen running across fields or pastures; the children would climb on the fence, the boys on the topmost rail, while the elders stood around and with hats or handkerchiefs cheered the long train as it swept past. Then when we reached a city and had to march across to another depot, the vast crowds on the sidewalk would cease their busy traffic and send up cheer after cheer, and the people at the windows above--who always reminded us of the swallows peering from their nests in the old barn at home--would join in, and the crowd on the high roof above would catch up the cry, and, amid the waving of flags, hats, and handkerchiefs, the huzzas would roll down the street as fast as we progressed. This enthusiasm was not confined to the first regiments, but continued until the war closed.