Bio: Joseph A. Jacobs :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 17, 2001 **************************************************************************** From the Book 'History of Pittsfield, N. H. in the Rebellion' by H. L. Robinson, published 1893 JOSEPH A. JACOBS. Perhaps no man has been better known in town during the past fifty years than Comrade Jacobs, who was born in Wilmot, N. H., May 23, 1829. He came to Pittsfield February 14, 1838, and has always made this town his home. He is a shoemaker by trade, but for five years before the war he worked as a painter. He married Sarah A. Eaton, December 29, 1852. and when he enlisted had two children. He entered Company G, Seventh New Hampshire volunteers, September 20, 1861; was made a sergeant and then promoted to the rank of lieutenant December 29, 1863. For a long time he commanded his company. He served with his company at Manchester, New York city, Dry Tortugas, and St. Augustine, Fla. From there he went to Hilton Head, and then to Folly island, S. C. ; next to Morris island, and Beaufort hospital, where he remained until he recovered from his wound ; then he went back to Morris island, and from there to St. Helena island ; to Jacksonville and Lake City, Fla. ; back to Jacksonville, then to St. Helena island, and from there to Bermuda Hundred, Va. He was in the battles of Fort Wagner and Olustee, Fla., besides sixteen skirmishes. At Wagner he received a bad wound in the thigh, and the Minie ball has never been removed. He has a calfskin pocket book that was in his trousers at the time he was shot, the ball cutting through it, and struck two cents, one of them of the old-fashioned copper variety ; these were badly bent, but caused the ball to glance, which saved his leg from being broken, thus saving his life. He was just crossing the ditch when struck. The guns of the fort had been silenced mostly, but as the regiment rushed forward to take possession, the rebels opened fire with howitzers at each end, enfilading the ditch, cutting our men down by the hundreds. At the same time they opened the gates and let in the water, drowning every man who was unable to climb out. At Olustee he was again wounded. He has a sword which has on the scabbard this inscription : " Presented to Lieutenant J. A. Jacobs by his friends. Pittsfield, N. H., Dec. 24, 1863." At one time during the Virginia campaign he wore this sword continuously for eight days. Jacobs always liked a joke. John Brock, whose sketch appears elsewhere, was a member of his company, and Jacobs always speaks in the highest terms of his comrade. Whenever Jacobs was sent on any expedition he always took Brock with him. Now Brock was a great hand to argue. No matter what the subject of conversation was, he would want to get up an argument, and so interested would he become that he would take no notice of anything else. One time when they were on picket together, some subject was started just as they had begun to eat their dinner. Brock kept talking, while Jacobs kept eating: the result was that Jacobs ate up Brock's dinner. Jacobs often took a man at his word. One day while in camp in Florida one of the men had a severe attack of homesickness. As he lay on the ground he cried,-- " Oh, I wish I was dead. " Jacobs inquired, "Why don't you cut your throat then?" "I can't, " said the sick man, "I wish some one would cut it for me. " " All right; I'll cut it for you, " said Jacobs, taking out his pocket knife and opening the small blade. Taking hold of the loose skin on the man's throat, he thrust the knife through and ripped it out, making a gash only skin deep, but three or four inches long. " Oh, I'm killed ! I'm killed ! " shouted the victim, jumping to his feet; " the blamed fool has cut my throat! he has cut my throat, " and he rushed to the surgeon to have his wound dressed. He at least was never troubled with homesickness, a disease, if I may use such a term, with which many of our men suffered and some of them died.