Biography of Benjamin Manson Tilton :Pittsfield, Merrimack County, New Hampshire

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Submitted by: Jody Goodson  kestrell@prodigy.net
Date: May 14, 2001
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From the Book
'History of Pittsfield, N. H. in the Rebellion'
by H. L. Robinson, published 1893

A photograph of Benjamin is in the book.

Page 150 to 156

BENJAMIN MANSON TILTON
     was one of the nineteen children of John Tilton. He was born on Pancake
hill in Pittsfield, January 13, 1843, and is one of the best known men in
town. His mother before marriage was Sally Nelson, who died when Manson and
his twin brother, Daniel P., were but two weeks old. Mr. Zachariah Leighton
took Manson and cared for him two years. His father married again.
     He then went home and remained under the parental roof until he was
seven years of age, when he went to live with his uncle, Daniel Watson, on
Tilton hill, and remained with him five years. He then went to Barnstead and
lived with Oliver Waldron one year, returned to Pittsfield and worked for
A. J. Pillsbury and Edwin Batchelder, when he left to work for his brother
Nehemiah in Chichester. After a time he returned to this town and worked for
Thomas Marshall, Winthrop Page, and George W. Nutter, until the first call
for troops, when he, in company with two others, walked to Concord in the
night and enlisted in the First New Hampshire volunteers under Captain
Sturtevant. Owing to some misunderstanding between the different members of
the company, a part of them were transferred to Captain Drown and taken to
Portsmouth as a part of the Second regiment. Tilton felt very badly at this,
for he feared the war would be over before he could see any fighting. He,
like all new recruits in those days, was fully armed with dirk knives and
pistols, and if the Rebellion should cease within thirty days, as some
predicted, he would have no chance to rip a man up with one, or shoot him 
with the other weapon.
     When his regiment was changed from a three months to a three years
term he had to subdue his warlike feelings, because he was not of lawful
age and his father would not give his consent for him to enlist for the
longer term. So he returned to Pittsfield, and in the summer of 1862, August
14, he enlisted in Company F, Twelfth New Hampshire volunteers, and was
promoted to be corporal about January 1, 1863.
     He passed through the Battle of Fretlericksburg unscathed, but at
Chancellorsville he saw a rebel hiding behind an upturned root. He said to a
comrade, "See me pop that fellow over." Just then a Minie ball from another
direction struck the lock of his gun, glanced, passed through his lungs,
shattered his shoulder blade, and lodged in his knapsack. He has it yet, as
a gruesome reminder of that terrible fight. Tilton felt no pain, but had a
dazed sort of feeling. He remembers that he thought he would get another
gun, as his was ruined, and as he stooped to pick up one he saw blood
running from his shoe. He thought then that he was wounded in the leg, and
he began to feel faint and started for the rear. Soon thirst, that terrible
thirst that all wounded men suffer. took possession of him. He found a
brook and plunged in and drank deeply. Then he crawled onto the bank and
laid down. His shoulder was now paining him fearfully and he was too weak
from loss of blood to move farther. The rebels came up and made him a
prisoner. This was May 3, 1863.
     They marched him to their rear, how far he does not know; he remembers
passing some others of his regiment who were captured. He walked until he
fell from exhaustion. The next he knew it was night. He lay between two
furrows of land and the rain was pouring down in torrents. This revived him.
It has often been remarked that after a severe battle there has been a
downpour of rain; this is a blessing to the wounded, as it allays in a
measure the raging fever that always follows severe wounds.
     Comrade Tilton was held a close prisoner for thirteen days. During this
time no food had been furnished him. He saw a rebel with a loaf of bread and
asked him what he would take for it. The rebel inquired if he had any money.
Tilton took out his pocket-book and said, " Here is $36 in greenbacks. If
that will do you any good you can have it for the bread." The rebel replied
that they were not allowed to have Yankee money, at the same time reaching
for the wallet. Tilton took hold of the bread and then the exchange was
made. In a very short time the bread was devoured. During these thirteen
days his wound was not dressed and got full of maggots.
     The doctors when they dressed his wound passed a silk handkerchief
through it and tied the ends together over his shoulder; this they would
move every day, and the pain that it caused was almost unbearable.
     When he was paroled he was put in an ambulance and taken to Potomac
Creek hospital. He remembers but little of his trip. When he came to himself
he was in a large tent with hundreds of other wounded men, and as he opened
his eyes the first man he saw was R. T. Leavitt of his company, who was
wounded and had been a prisoner like himself. A few days later Charles B.
Leavitt arrived from Pittsfield to take his brother home. He declared that
Tilton was his wife's brother. By this subterfuge he obtained a furlough for
him for thirty days, which was subsequently extended thirty more. When they
arrived in Concord they were dirty and lousy to the last degree. They were
met at the depot by Nathaniel Shaw, formerly of this town, who married
Leavitt's sister, and were taken in a nice hack to his house. The boys
begged to be allowed to sleep in the stable, saying that they were too
dirty to get into a bed; but their kind friends would not listen to
anything of the kind, but put them in the best bed and room in the house,
which had been prepared especially for their comfort. After remaining here
for a short time they came to Pittslield. Tilton was under the care of Dr.
Wheeler.
     At the end of his furlough his time was extended for thirty days more,
when he reported at New York city. As he was a paroled prisoner he was sent
to the parole camp at Indianapolis, Ind. This place he did not like, and
the next morning he took the train for Washington. He had no ticket or pass
and but little money. When the conductor would put him off the train he
would walk to the rear of the train and get on again, but if the railroad
men prevented this he would tramp to the next station and board the first
train that came along. At last he reached the capital without a cent in his
pocket and not knowing where his regiment was. As he was passing along the
street he saw a soldier with the silver letters of his regiment,
"12 N. H. V.", on his cap. Tilton says, "I never was so tickled to see any
one in my life as to see this man, although I did not know him, yet he
belonged to my regiment and I felt as though I had got almost home. I went
up to him and asked him where the regiment was, and he told me at Point
Lookout. I asked him how to get there, and he told me at a certain wharf a
steamboat was lying, ready to sail in about an hour. He asked me if I had a
pass. I told him I hadn't. He said, "You can't go down then." I told him I
should try. I went on board the boat, and after we had got some ways down
the river the captain came to me for my ticket. I told him I had neither
pass, ticket, or money. "Then." said he, "I shall have to put you ashore."
"All right," I said, "only put me on the Maryland shore and I'll hoof it
the rest of the way and get there then as soon as your darned old boat
will." He gave me a look I shall never forget, and passed on.
     As soon as he reached his regiment he reported for duty. He had not
been exchanged, and of course his officers had no right to put him in the
ranks; but Tilton insisted, and he was allowed to have his own way. He was
not entitled to rations, but his comrades were like all soldiers, ready to
share with him.
     One time he was sent on picket duty at Bermuda Hundred. The rebels came
down on them and captured every man but Tilton. This was risky business for
him, for if captured, by the laws of war he would have been shot for
breaking his parole. He escaped in this way, when he saw his danger. He ran
towards the enemy, while they paid their attention to those who were trying
to get away. When Tilton had got well in their rear he found a creek. By
this time it was dark and raining hard. He followed the creek along until he
came to our lines.
     He reached his regiment the next morning, to find an order awaiting him
detailing him to act as quartermaster-sergeant at Norfolk, Va.  Here he
remained under Captain Laws of the Eleventh Netv Hampshire' volunteers for
several months, when he asked to be relieved so that he might rejoin his
regiment. At one time volunteers were called for to fill up Berdan's
sharpshooters. Tilton was one of those who offered his services, and was
accepted. He remained with this organization one month. He was engaged in
thirteen battles and nineteen skirmishes, most of these while on parole, as
he never was exchanged.
     At the Battle of Cold Harbor his company went in with forty-two men, of
whom five were killed, twenty-two wounded, and only ten remained for duty,
with Tilton in command, he being at that time acting as orderly sergeant. In
this battle a bullet grazed his right cheek, another cut the bottom from the
left side of his cap, another cut the straps of his canteen and haversack,
while his blanket, which was rolled and hung across his shoulder, was
perforated with a number of holes by the bullets of the enemy.
     At the Battle of Drury's Bluff, Capt. John H. Prescott came upon him
and George F. Meserve with the rest of Company F, and told them to get out
of that as soon as possible, as the rebels were close upon them. Looking in
the direction indicated thev saw the enemy but a few rods away. They started
to run and soon came to a deep, narrow ravine, across which lay a log.
Meserve called out, " I can't cross that log." Tilton took to the log, while
Meserve jumped into the ravine. Tilton escaped, while poor Meserve was
captured.
     After his return from Drury's Bluff his company were supporting a
battery, when a splinter from one of our shrapnel that was being fired at
the enemy struck him on the hand, making a slight wound.
     At Petersburg, George H. Sanborn came out to bring him food while he
was on duty. Sanborn said, " Let me take your gun for one pop at those
fellows." "All right," replied Tilton, "I will load for you." It was while
sitting on a box by Tilton's side that Sanborn received his terrible wound.
     I have already spoken of the very large family of which Mr. Tilton was
a member. After his enlistment, and before he left the state, they held a
reunion at the old homestead. His father had been breaking up a piece of
field the day before. The plow was still standing in the furrow, and the
young folks, for a lark, took hold of the chain, pulled the plow across the
field and back, while the father held the plow and turned a good furrow.