LAWRENCE COUNTY OHIO - Men in The Civil War *********************************************************************** OHGENWEB NOTICE: All distribution rights to this electronic data are reserved by the submitter. Reproduction or re-presentation of copyrighted material will require the permission of the copyright owner. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. *********************************************************************** File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by Sharon Milich Kouns & Peggy Wells historical@wwd.net To see an update on these pages go to the Lawrence Co. Register at http://www.wwd.net/user/historical/ August 3, 1997 *********************************************************************** STORIES OF LAWRENCE COUNTY MEN IN THE CIVIL WAR *********************************************************************** ANOTHER GROWING BOOK Researched and compiled by: Sharon M. Kouns and Peggy Wells *********************************************************************** INDEX 1. Mayor Corns 2. Henry Pancake 3. Gen. Enochs and Lt. A. D. Crossland 4. Charles Shelton 5. Col. Weddle 6. Col. Geo. N. Gray 7. Ben Butterfield 8. Maj. McMahon 9. E. P. Steed 10. Henry Adams 11. John E. Stewart 12. John Wilson 13. #13-42 - not typed yet 14. #43. John L. Rogers 15. #44-47 - not typed yet 16. #48. Dr. Jona Morris 17. #49. Guy Rowe 18. #50. Col. W. H. Raynor COMPLETE INDEX Compiled by Sheri Pettit *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, November 18, 1886 No. 1. [Under the above head we propose to publish a series of articles, or rather interviews with old soldiers, giving details of narrow escapes while in the service. We well print them as long as the boys keep us posted with startling personal experiences or our interviewer can gather them in.-- Ed. Reg.] "What was your 'narrow escape' in the army?" we asked of Mayor Corns, of the old Second Va. Cavalry, as he stood smoking his morning stoga, before the big cannon stove of his office, last Monday. "Oh, I had several that I thought was pretty narrow-- narrow enough to make my flesh creep when I even think of them now." "But," said we, "what was the little the worst fix you got into while serving Uncle Sam?" "Well, sir, about the worst fix," replied the Mayor, and he laughed and shuddered at the same time, "was when our division under Custer attacked Fitzhugh Lee, on the evening after the battle of Sailor's Creek-- that was the 7th of April, 1865, two days before the surrender at Appomatox. Lee was trying to get off with a big wagon train, and Custer had orders to intercept him and capture the train if possible. Just at nightfall, we caught up with Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, down there not very far from Farmville. The enemy had gone into camp for the night. They were in the woods and had thrown up piles of rails as a protection against attack. We had a heavy line of skirmishes which were soon driven in, and then, having discovered the enemy's line, Custer ordered a general charge. There were about 7000 cavalry and we went in with a rush, but after a bitter little fight we were repulsed. We ran into a ditch or drain in the charge and that upset our calculations. We piled into that ditch with considerable confusion and were glad to get out, without bringing any rebs with us. Our lines were soon reformed and another charge sounded. It was then after dark, but the moon was shining brightly. It was an open meadow over which we charged, and save the drain, was a pretty place for a cavalry fight, for those who liked that kind of business." "After the charge was sounded and we were on full gallop, lo and behold the enemy was charging too, and the two divisions of cavalry met in a hand to hand fight in the middle of the plain. It was an awfully mixed up affair. We couldn't tell friend from foe half the time. We had been on the go so much that our blue uniforms were dust-colored and about as gray as the rebels'. It was the biggest free fight ever I got into, and every fellow whacked away and tried to kill every fellow he came to. It happened, however, that I got in with a little squad of six or eight of our boys, and we kept together until we found ourselves completely within the enemy's lines, with the rebs' banging away all around us. Our army was getting the best of the fight, and gradually pushing the rebs back, and of course we went back with the rebel line. It looked scaly for us. I saw Johnny Connelly near me and said to him, "This is a bad fix--we must get cut of this." And he said, "Yes, and here are five or six others of us right near." I got them together, for I was a Lieutenant commanding a company, and said, "Boys, we must charge to the rear and join our army," and one of the boys said, "Here goes," and started, and we were all about to put after him, but just as I started, a reb who was just in front of me, and who I thought was one of our boys, whirled around and, drawing his saber, called out, "Surrender, you d----d Yankee," at the same time bringing the saber down toward my head with fearful velocity. I dodged and the saber struck my shoulder, but did not cut the flesh as I had on an overcoat with a bear-skin collar. The blade went right through these, but stopped at the flesh, but it paralyzed my arm, which fell to my side. He did it so quickly that I had no time to parry. But missing my head, he quickly drew his saber for another stroke, and I would have got it the next time clean through my head, but just as the reb had the saber at its full height for another blow, a First N. Y. Cavalryman struck his carbine right against the fellow's head, and exclaiming "Not this time, Johnny," blazed away and shot the reb.'s head just about off. Then we scampered to the rear, but hadn't gone far when we got into the ragged edge of our own line and felt ourselves considerably safer. In getting out of there, three balls struck me, but I consider the narrowest escape, was when that New York Cavalryman stuck his carbine at the reb's head and presented the blow which would have gone right through my head, as sure as fate. The narrowness of the escape was intensified by the fact that the war only lasted two days longer." "Before we got out of there, Johnny Connelly was shot crazy, but I snatched his horse's rein and got him within our lines. He was sent back to the field hospital and I never saw him since; but if ever I come across that N. Y. Cavalryman, I'll take him home, set him down in the best rocking chair in the front parlor, and feed him on mince pie and roast turkey as long as he lives." "Well, we drove Fitzhugh Lee back, captured his camp, and got a great many prisoners, a large proportion of whom were drunk. We found applejack by the bucketfuls all through the camp, but we were not allowed to touch a drop, though my arm hurt me terribly bad." "Well, Mr. Corns, that was a 'narrow escape.'" "Narrow! Well, I should say so, and I sometimes have to feel up there to be sure my head ain't split in two yet." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, November 25, 1886 No. 2. Henry Pancake, the popular grocer on Center-St., belonged to the 5th Va., and was one of those daring spirits selected from various regiments of the Army of West Va. to make up Blazer's Scouts, a mounted company under the command of Capt. Dick Blazer, of the 91st, to keep an eye on Mosby's guerillas and counteract their warfare. It took a hardy, brave soldier to engage in this service and Blazer's Scouts were of that kind. So the REGISTER interviewer knew that Henry must have the recollection of a few narrow escapes and consequently tackled him for one. "Yes," said Henry, "I had a few close calls, but I don't know as I can describe them as close as they were. I tell you I came near concluding several times that the jig was up." "I remember one little experience in particular, and I cannot now tell just when it happened, but sometime in the latter part of 1864. We had gone down on a scout from the neighborhood of Winchester into Luray valley. We had ridden two days and nights and were returning toward Winchester again. We had crossed the Shenandoah river, at Jackson's ford, about daylight, and rode into Cabletown, about a mile from the ford, and back on the Harper's Ferry road a short distance, where we stopped to cook a little breakfast. I was standing near Capt. Blazer and Lieut. Coles, boiling some coffee, when a colored boy came up and said about 300 of Mosby's Guerillas had crossed the ford, and taken a position in the woods, about half way between the ford and Cabletown, and were watching us. That was only a half mile or so from where we were. The darkey had been sent by a Union woman near the ford to apprise us. The Captain ordered Lieut. Coles and myself to go to a little hill or mound, about half way between us and them, and see how many there were and all about them." "We proceeded to the hill and got a good view of the rebs, and confirmed all the intelligence given by the colored boy. In the meantime, Capt. Blazer had formed his command and proceeded across the fields in the direction of the rebs, and we joined him when he had advanced some distance. We told him there were 300 of them, that they were in a good position and it wouldn't do to attack them with our little force, amounting to 65 men all told. But the Captain told us to fall in, and the way we went. Before we got into position to attack the rebs who were across the road, we had to let down two big rail fences. This we did and filed into the field which was skirted by the woods where the rebs were and in plain view of them. It was a desperately daring deed, and we hurried up the job, coming around into line like whip cracker. Just as we got into line, here came the rebs down on us with a yell. We fired one volley, and then they were on us, blazing away. To get through the gap in the fence and get out of that scrape, and into the road, was the aim of all. But the rebs were right with us, shooting our boys down and hacking our ranks to pieces. Every fellow was for himself, and when those got into the road who could get out they flew in all directions, some across the fields, some up toward Cable town and some toward the ford. Oh, it was an awful nasty fight! We stood no show at all. We had hardly got into line when every fellow was expected to save himself. I got into the road among the last, the rebs all around me and after me. I had on a rebel uniform and that's what saved my head, just then. Well, I took down toward Cabletown as fast as my horse could carry me. Lieut. Coles was just ahead of me, and Capt. Blazer was ahead of Coles. Another of our boys was just at my rear, and he was soon made prisoner. The balls whizzed all around me. Near the cross roads at Cabletown, Lieut. Coles fell from his head resting on his arm as I passed by. After I had passed him, I looked back and the foremost reb, whom I recognized as one of the prisoners we had when we made the attack, stopped right over him, aimed his carbine and shot Lieut. Coles dead." "Only Capt. Blazer and myself were left on that road and there were 30 or 40 of Mosby's men after us. I gained on Blazer and soon caught up with him. The Captain asked, 'Where's the boys?' I replied, 'All I know is one just behind and I guess they've got him by this time.' 'I am going to surrender,' said he, and I said 'I' me going to get out of this.' The Captain halted and gave himself up. The rebs were not over 30 yards from us and peppering away. The surrender of the Captain stopped them a moment, and I gained a little, but on came the rebs mighty soon again and chased me for two miles further. The pursuing party was reduced to about ten, and those finally gave up the chase by sending a volley that whizzed all around me. When I looked back and saw they were not pursuing me, I never felt so happy in my life." "I rode on more leisurely after this, but had not proceeded more than a mile or so when I saw a man leading a horse along a road that led into the road I was on. I soon observed he was one of our men. He had been wounded and escaped. "We went together will we came to our pickets near Winchester about dusk. There I was captured sure enough, because I had on the rebel uniform, and put in prison. I could not make the pickets or officers believe that I was a union soldier, and wore the rebel uniform because I was ordered to do so, but about 11 o'clock that night, my story was found to be true and I was released. "Now a little about that rebel uniform, and thereon hangs the point of my 'narrow escape.' The chase after me was different from that after Capt. Blazer. He could surrender and live; I couldn't. I had to beat in that horse race or die, and as there were 40 horses on the track after me it looked every minute like dying. There were 16 of us in Blazer's company who wore rebel uniforms, and I was the only one who got out of that scrape alive. Of the entire number in the company, 65, only 13 escaped and five of these were wounded. That was the last of Blazer's scouts." "I went down next day to the scene of the fight. Twenty-two of our boys were buried near the road. The colored people had buried them. Lieut. Cole's body was exhumed and sent home and now sleeps in Woodland Cemetery near Ironton. He was a brave young fellow." "Yes," said the reporter, "I knew him well. We belonged to the same company. He was a daring young officer--generous, chivalrous, patriotic. Tell me further about the rebel uniform." "You see," said Henry, "we were organized to fight Mosby's Guerrilas, and we had to fight them as they fought us, and wearing each others uniform was a part of the game. Why, I've got in with the rebels and rode for miles without their suspecting I was a union soldier. One time Mosby's men captured a mail wagon, and some of us wearing rebel uniforms caught up with them and helped guard the wagon until our pursuing force came in sight. That's the way we had to fight Mosby, and it was part of the regulations that some of us wore the gray." "Well, then," suggested the reporter, "to have been a Blazer Scout, was a sort of continuous narrow escape." "Yes," said Henry, "I've only given you one of the incidents that was particularly interesting to me. That's what you asked for." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES. Ironton Register, Thursday, December 2, 1886 No. 3. "I suppose you have observed that the REGISTER is giving some "Narrow Escapes" of the boys in the war, Gen. Enochs?" "Yes, indeed," said the General, "I read them with a great deal of interest. They are a good thing. They remind me of what Gen. Hayes said to me at Portsmouth, during the reunion. He remarked that the real history of the war has not yet been written; and will not be, until the boys have a chance to tell their personal experiences." "Well now," said the reporter, "that's just what I am after, a "narrow escape" from you." "Oh, I have none worth relating. I was in a great many battles and met danger with the rest of the boys, but I have no distinctively romantic escape to relate. My narrowest escape was where I didn't altogether escape. It was at the battle near Winchester, on the 19th of September 1864--Sheridan's first great battle in the Shenandoah Valley. You remember the engagement began about noon. The 19th corps was on the left; the 6th corps in the center and the Army of West Va. on the right, and my regiment, which I commanded that day, was on the extreme right of the whole line; that is, of the infantry line. Custer's and Merritt's divisions of cavalry still covered our flanks." "Well, we had driven the rebel forces gradually from the start; and they were very hard to drive as they fought behind the stone fences which abound in that country. It was on toward five o'clock in the evening, and the rebel lines had been driven back from every point except where the artillery was planted, which was a strong position. Their cannon was doing fearful execution, and the musketry from that quarter was very severe. Gen. Duval, who commanded our brigade, had fallen, and the ranks were much shattered. I had lost my horse in a swamp soon after the fight commenced and so was afoot in the battle. Things were in a turmoil and confusion; nobody seemed to be directing our brigade or division, so I took hold of our end of the line myself, and ordered an assault on the rebel artillery. I thought we wouldn't be killed any faster going ahead than standing still. Then the enemy opened on us furiously. Our line as it advanced had a very ragged edge to it. It was made up almost without any order as to regiment, a dozen regiments being represented, in some parts of the line." "As we approached the rebel position, I happened, at one moment, to be looking down the line, awfully anxious about its maintaining itself, when my "narrow escape" came to me in the form of a minnie ball, and down I went, to figure, as the comrades around me supposed, among the list of the killed. And I would have thought so too, possibly, if I had not been knocked senseless. There I lay insensible, for some time, but finally regained my thoughts, to find that I couldn't see. I was blind as a bat for over an hour; but during that little period, I felt about to ascertain the extent of my wound, and found a ball sticking in the side of my head about two inches above the right ear. It had gone through my hat band and flattened against the skull, which it bruised badly, and to which it stuck until I pulled it off. The first man who discovered I wasn't dead was Lewis Neff, of Rome township, who gave me a drink from his canteen." "That was indeed, a very close shave," said the reporter, "but what of the charge on the artillery?" "Oh, that was the best part about it," said the General--"the boys went right on, and captured the rebel works; and that did as much as any other one thing that day to give us the victory. The next day, I was all right and took command of my regiment again." "Where's the ball?" asked the reporter. "I carried it for a couple years after, but finally lost it," replied the General; "but I can recollect everything about that fight without the ball as a reminder. It struck me too forcibly to ever be forgotten." *********************************************************************** We have room for another "narrow escape," not a very big one, but a little laughable one. Lieut. A. D. Crossland, of the old 91st tells it. Everybody knows A. D.-- as brave a fellow and as jolly as ever went into the army. He said to us on Thanksgiving day: "I see you are giving the "narrow escapes" of the boys in the army-- I want to tell you mine-- it's a short one. It took place at the battle of Cloyd mountain-- a mighty hot little fight. You see I was Quartermaster and didn't have to fight except in my own way, but I generally saw the boys through. So at that fight, I got a musket and run a corps of my own. I cornered a big reb behind a small tree. I had the advantage, because I had first aim, and as I saw a part of him, I tried to shoot, but the trigger on the old musket wouldn't work, and while I was fussing at it to get it to go off, the reb. peeped around and surmised the difficulty, and as I was behind a very small tree that didn't altogether conceal me, reb concluded his chance had come; so he raised up, took aim, and tired. Good gracious, how I was scared! but he missed me, and immediately I thought the thing to do was to get away from there, so I jumped from behind the tree and struck northward like greased lightning, to get with the boys. As soon as I started to run, I looked back to see if Johnny Reb was coming after me, but how happy I was, when I saw him climbing in the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry him. As soon as he shot, he dropped his gun and lit out, just as I had done. He was going so fast I expect he is running yet. Now you can talk of your "narrow escapes," but I'm athinking that's a pretty narrow one for a Quakermaster to get out of, don't you?" "We do, truly." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES. Ironton Register, Thursday, December 9, 1886 No. 4 So you were in the 2nd Va. Cavalry?" we asked of Charles Shelton. "Yes," he replied. "Well, the 2nd Va. Cavalry was around some, and got into tight places, did you ever get in any?" the reporter asked. "A few. Henry Pancake's interesting experience which you published calls to mind a "narrow escape" for me, on account of my having on rebel pants and an old white hat. Of course we all had narrow escapes. I learned this in my first soldiering in Kanawha valley. One day, our regiment was strung out a mile long and, was fired on my bushwhacker from the opposite side of the river, and every man said that the ball just missed his head and that was all. However, after we had marched an hour or so, that ball or some other succeeded in knocking the crown out of Jimmie McGovern's hat. Now, as I was going to say of myself; at the battle of Waynesborough I lost my cap and found that white hat. That night after the fight was over, I changed my muddy pants for a rebel pair that was dry and clean. These I had to keep for some weeks as we were on the go all the time. We marched to White House Landing, then to Petersburg, then to Five Forks, then to Sailor's creek. In the evening after the fight was over, two of Co. F. and myself assisted one of my company to the hospital. There we were detained to wait on the wounded that night." "Next morning, we started for the command. On reaching the battle ground, which was situated on a ridge, we stopped to consider which way to go as there were roads leading in different directions. Just then a regiment of nice, clean soldiers, headed by several fine looking officers, cam in sight. They halted some distance away, and soon one of their officers came dashing toward us, and at once, I thought this must be General Meade, and sure enough it was. Now here, I must further describe my appearance, for I do not wonder at him taking me for anything else but a confederate soldier. I had on the right kind of a cavalry jacket and as I was bugler of course was striped across the breast like a zebra, and the broad brimmed home made hat lopped well down about my ears. The General made right for me. "What command do you belong to?" he asked in a shrill voice that almost lifted me out of my saddle. "2nd Va. Cav., Co. E. Capt. Joe Ankrom, Lieut. J. M. Corns, Lieut. Hicks." This I said and more too in one breath, for I began to see that we were going to get in trouble." "What are you doing here?" I explained all about the matter and told him that we were at a loss to know which road to take to get to our command. "What are you doing with those rebel clothes on?" he asked. I explained how I came by these, and said I, "General, I see you are taking me for a rebel. Why, here," showing him a pin that I wore on my jacket, with name, company and regiment inscribed on it, also a ring with the same. Then I searched my pockets for a letter from home, but he would not look at anything, but the gray pants and white hat. Finally, he said, "your command went out that road." He then went back to his staff. We started, but did not proceed far till an officer came up and commanded us to halt. He said that the General wanted us to come back there." "On our way back, he asked me the same questions, and I tried to tell the same story. When we reached the General, and his staff this officer said: "General, it will be well to see to this fellow, for he tells a crooked story." The regiment was then drawn up in line of march and I was placed in the rear under guard. We did not go far, till we came to a halt. An officer came dashing back and ordered me to dismount. My horse was taken away and I was led to one side by two of these nice looking soldiers, who seemed afraid to get close to me. These two soldiers commenced to load their guns, and Oh! that old white hat began to raise and I thought of everything I ever did, both good and bad. I could not help but think that I had been the best soldier that ever carried a bugle, and had been in every fight the regiment ever had. I had helped Custer capture those thirty-six battle flags with all that artillery, and now the war was about to end and I was to shot down as a rebel spy. It was too bad; but just then I heard the clatter of horse's hoofs coming back along the line. As they came up, I observed two officers and two men. I knew one of them. I holloed out, "there is a man I know." Said I, "You are a Lieut. in the first N. Y. Cav. I belong to Co. E. 2nd Va. Cav. Capt. Joe Ankrom. You know him?" "Yes," said the Lieut. "Why?" "These men are going to shoot me for a rebel spy." I was then turned over to this Lieut. and thus rescued, and had the pleasure of seeing Lee surrender at Appomattox a few days after." "That indeed is a very romantic experience," observed the reporter. "It may be romantic to listen to, but the very recollection of it gives me the cold chills. I don't want to figure in that sort of a romance any more," Mr. Shelton replied. "Indeed I hope not," said the reporter, "but, yet these narrow escapes become very interesting to recall, twenty years after the danger's past." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES. Ironton Register, Thursday, December 16, 1886 No. 5 "Here, Col. Weddle, I've caught you at last," said the REGISTER man when he met the Colonel pulling away at a cigar in front of Winters' drug store. "What's the matter? What have I done?" returned the Colonel with a laugh. "Why, haven't you read the 'Narrow Escapes' in the REGISTER, and don't you see you have kept out of them?" the reporter replied. "Yes, I read them, and I like to read what the other boys have done, but please excuse me." "Not at all-- we let no guilty man escape. Come now; the 1st West Va. was a fighting regiment, and you were one of them. Think up a 'Narrow Escape' right quick, now." "Well," said the Colonel, putting on his thinking cap, "Port Republic was about as hot a time as I ever saw, but you want some personal reminiscences where a fellow got in a peculiar tight pinch himself? I guess that was down at Berryville. Let's see-- now I don't know that I'll get the dates precisely right-- but it was when Early was retreating out of Maryland. He had gone into Virginia and was striking toward Winchester, and we were following him up cautiously. We had started from Sandy Hook, and intended to reach Leetown and demonstrate on his flank, but he had passed down the pike. We then went to Snicker's ford, where we encountered the enemy and had a severe fight. "I must tell you of a funny incident here, and rather 'narrow' too. Our regiment had charged across the ford and had been driven back, where we had a steep, slippery clay bank to climb, to get out of the way of the enemy's fire. My adjutant and I had clasped hands to aid each other up the bank. The rebs were across the river, only a short distance, just peppering us lively. Now, as fast as my adjutant and myself got near the top of that bank, we slipped back, and the more we hurried the worse we would slip, and the faster the rebs fired the more we hurried. It was a scaly time, and many of our boys were shot there. My adjutant, whose hand I held till we got up the bank, was shot twice in the cap, a shoulderstrap carried off, a button shot away and a ball pierced his clothing in left side--five close misses in getting up that bank; but I escaped-- that's a close call. "Well, a couple days after that, we moved on to Berryville, and my regiment and the 2nd Maryland were sent out the Winchester pike on picket. The rest of the division was below Berryville. We had out three companies, from each regiment, on each side of the road, on picket, and the main part of the two regiments was on the pike, a short distance back. I was sitting in the regimental ambulance, and my cook had just announced that the coffee and bacon were ready, when 'bang' went a musket out the road, and 'bang, bang' went others. I mounted my horse and galloped in the direction of our advanced picket line, which, in the meantime, had got itself in good position, and using my glass saw a large rebel force advancing in line of battle. I was commanding my regiment, but Col. Rogers, of the 2nd Maryland, was my senior. I gave orders to pickets to fall back stubbornly, and then reported to Col. Rogers, who had ordered his own regiment to do the same thing. The two regiments then kept on falling back slowly and fighting all the time, till they got to Berryville. Here were some old earthworks, badly washed by the rain, and we got over into them. The rebels kept coming, and confident of success charged the earthworks. This was about 5 o'clock in the afternoon. The form of the earthworks was a right angle, and the rebel line came up in a sort of semi-circle, enveloping the corner of the angle. We would have been most delightfully wiped out then, had it not been for Gen. Duval, who lay with the rest of his brigade in the neighborhood of Berryville, and who formed in line when the firing was first heard. His forces reached the fort soon after we got behind it, but the works being very small, a part of his brigade was thrown out to the left to prevent the enemy coming in that direction and getting behind the works. "The attempt of the enemy to carry the works by storm was a very exciting combat, at least where I stood, about midway of the front of the angle, and just where the 'narrow escape' which you demand took place. I was standing there, sword in hand, directing the firing against the advancing line of the enemy. The rebs came nearer and nearer, and the fire got hotter and hotter, and soon the rebs were right on us. Now mind, the earthworks were hardly to be dignified by that name, not being over two or three feet high and affording very little protection at anything like close quarters. While I was standing, as I remarked, a great, tall reb right in the front of the attacking line made a jump at me and sought to reach me with a lunge of his bayonet, and it was close work, I tell you. He had the longest arms and made the biggest lunge, and he was going for me. The point of his bayonet gave me a prod in the lower part of the breastbone and drew the blood, but not enough to hurt much. He was about to step forward to be sure the next time, when one of the boys near me jumped up and placing his musket near the fellow's head blew it pretty nearly off. That was a 'narrow' as I wanted it." "Yes," said the reporter, "that was very close, but how did the fight end?" "Oh, we repulsed them, but they kept up an artillery fire till 10 o'clock. The next morning, however, we left, and formed a new line nearer the Potomac. That fight was on the 3rd of September. A few days after, Sheridan came in with two corps and drove Early out of the valley." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, December 23, 1886 No. 6 We interviewed Col. Geo. N. Gray, the other day, upon his experiences in the army, and after circling the Colonel with a good many interrogatories, managed to get a very interesting and romantic "Narrow Escape" from the recesses of his memory. He remarked in substance, as follows: "In 1862, I was Lieutenant in the Signal Corps, and attached to the Mississippi Gunboat Flotilla, which was under command of Commodore Davis. Just after the fall of Memphis, in June of that year, we were ordered to White river, and up that, to look for Gen. Curtis's command, which seemed lost somewhere in Arkansas or Missouri. There were five or six gunboats in the fleet, and we arrived at White river, June 16th, and steamed up that stream. We soon approached a little town of St. Charles, where there was a high bluff back from the left bank of the river on which was a fort and several heavy seige guns. We had the 46th Indiana regiment was landed on the left bank; about two miles below the town and just below where a little bayou put out. "Well, the next morning, the 17th, one of the gunboats, steamed up the river to open fire on the fortifications. But before the boat started, I was sent with two men to shore to creep along between the river and the fort, and through the canebrake, to a high piece of ground beyond the fort, so I could take observations from there, for from that point I would be able to look right down into the enemy's works, see their force and count their guns. The intelligence I was to gain there, I was to signal to my associate officer on the gunboat, who was to communicate to Col. Fitch, and let him know the situation, so he could attack if desirable. My progress along the bank was to be protected by the gunboat, which was to draw all the enemy's attention and gunpowder. It was about three miles from where I started to the knoll I was after. We began our journey through the thicket and canebrake. Soon the gunboat coming slowly up the river opened out, and the guns in the fort replied, and under the hissing shells and solid shot of both sides, we three men crept along. It was pretty uncomfortable, I tell you, but seemed worse than it really was. Well, myself and two men had got up the river bank about two miles from where we started, and were a little in advance of the gunboat, when a shot from the fort blew up the gunboat-- the shot had struck a steampipe; several men were scalded to death; some jumped overboard and swam ashore to be butchered; and the boat drifted helpless toward the side the rebels were. "The enemy then came out of the fort and rushed to the river bank, firing at men in the water and on the boat. There were about 1100 infantry in the fort, and, of course, they shot and killed all they could. Out of the 200 on that gunboat, I think we lost in shot, drowned and scalded about 150. "Now, the blowing up of the gunboat made my situation especially perilous. Here we were two miles from our forces, and the rebs all around us, and looking for us. Soon, about thirty came scooping through the canebrake looking for us, and finally discovered us. About a dozen rushed at us with guns aimed, ready to shoot, but I cried: 'There is no use of that; we surrender,' and they took us in. Anticipating capture, I had hid our signal flags and tore off all insignia of the signal service, thinking perhaps the rebs might torture us into sending false signals to our forces. Well, we were taken around the upper end of the fort, to a place back of the works. I saw, as I passed by, the artillery and the number of men and took a careful observation. "About that time, another gunboat had steamed up in front of the fort and engaged it. The infantry had hurried from the river bank back behind the fortifications. There was all excitement. The cannonade was tremendous. We were left in charge of two infantry men; and one of them straggled away from us in the confusion and hurly-burly of the fight. A field of corn skirted the bluff back of the fortifications, and but a few steps from us. I asked our guard if we might not get a roasting ear, and he assented. As we went to the corn, I said quietly to my comrades. 'We'll run when we get there.' Of course, the guard's attention was divided between watching us and the shells from the gunboats, and that gave us a better opportunity; so as soon as we got well into the corn, we took to our heels. The guard fired at us, and several joined in pursuit. Gracious, but we did run! Pretty soon we came to a bayou, an arm of White river, that stretched around the bluff that the rebs were on. It was about 50 feet wide. There was nothing to do but plunge right in, and in we went. It was a terrible moment to me, for I couldn't swim; and what if the waters were over my head! In I went, deeper and deeper, till the water was to my shoulders, and the next few steps might take me still deeper. I could hear my pursuers prowling through the cornfield, not far back. The bottom of the bayou was swampy and I seemed to sink deeper every step. I stretched my neck and turned my face upward and kept on. The anxiety of that moment was horrible, but I thought it was better to be drowned than be shot. I had seen our own soldiers shot as they came from the gunboat, struggling through the waters, and I was sure that would be my fate if I turned back. Another step or two and I found the bottom solider and the waters less deep. On I pushed and soon emerged from that perilous journey. My two comrades were swimmers and got over before, and just as I landed and got into the woods, the reb guards were approaching the bayou, but we were beyond their reach. We took our course down the bayou, in the direction of Col. Fitch's regiment, and in a short time arrived there. We were sorrowful looking objects, soaked and muddy from head to foot. "Col. Fitch looked at us in amazement, and was more amazed when we told our story. 'Do you suppose I can take the works from the rear?' he asked. I told him I thought he could. He then put his command in marching trim, and I led the way up the bayou to our wading place, where the regiment crossed. The second gunboat had passed up the river beyond the fort, and another boat started to engage the enemy, while Col. Fitch with his regiment attacked from the rear. The infantry completely surprised the rebel forces and captured the whole business. I expect they killed and wounded about 250 of the enemy, took all the guns and many prisoners. There are two or three other very interesting incidents connected with this matter. "There was a signal officer beside myself connected with that expedition, Lieut. Wood. At first, he was assigned to that land duty, and I was to stay on the gunboat; but as he was not well, we changed places-- I went ashore, and he stayed on the gunboat. When the boat blew up, he jumped overboard and swam to the opposite shore. If I had been there I would have drowned, for I couldn't swim a lick. "When we three retreated from the rebs, and happened to strike the bayou at the only place possible to wade, we found there a rebel picket who had been shot right in two, only a moment before, by solid shot from the gunboats. He was horribly mangled. He was, doubtless, there to watch that narrow place in the bayou, and if it hadn't been for that timely solid shot, he would have made it serious for us. "Col. Fry, formerly of the Navy, commanded the rebel guns, and he was among our prisoners. Capt. Flory, Capt. Sill and myself were talking together, when Fry slipped by and made a dash for some adjacent timber. We called him to halt, but he kept on and I sent a ball from my revolver after him, but it missed; and then Fry, still retreating, threw out a sign of free masonry, which we all observed, but Capt. Sill, saying 'that wont do here,' fired his revolver and hit Fry, bringing him to the ground with a hole through his lungs; but he got over it. I speak of this, because he was the man who commanded the fillibustering Virginius in an attack on Cuba, a few years after, and who died under the walls of Havana, the same expedition in which the son of our townsman, Mr. DeGrei, was shot. "One other thing, and it bore on our minds all the time; we had knowledge that the rebs there had declared they would give no quarter. It was understood that Gen. Hindman had sent that word to Col. Fitch. Then the fact that they shot all who escaped from the boat, made our experience deeply distressing. That was the thing that impelled us to 'light out' at the first slim chance. "Well, I guess I've told you all you care about knowing. I may say that the expedition was quite successful, and Gen. Curtis and his army got out of their box, without our help, even if our efforts were full of narrow escapes." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, December 30, 1886 No. 7. "You were in the artillery during the war, were you not?" asked the REGISTER reporter of Ben Butterfield. "Yes," said Ben, "I was in Battery L of the 1st Ohio Artillery." "Well, then you must have a "narrow escape" for me. I want one from the artillery, sure," said the reporter. "I haven't any of a very thrilling character," said Mr. Butterfield. " I saw some things that I don't care to see again, but nothing where I was personally involved. There was a scene at Cedar Creek, on the 19th of October, 1864, that was pretty rough. It was the day that Sheridan made his celebrated ride. The rebels attacked our army, which was lying along the north bank of Cedar Creek, before dawn, and before we could get over our surprise, had us briskly retreating. Our battery was then in the Army of West Virginia, on the left side of the turnpike, at the foot of Massanuttin mountain, from which the rebs made their first dash on our lines. "Our whole line was driven back and the battery went with it, but at several intervals getting into position, and as often lighting out again with due haste. Our whole army was driven back, and were pretty well demoralized. It was about noon, when we got as far back as Middletown, possibly six or eight miles from our original position. There Sheridan found us, on his side from Winchester. Our lines were soon reformed, and soon changed retreat into attack, and from that moment we kept driving the rebs, until we regained the old line at Cedar Creek. "When we got there, our battery took position on the right of the road, a few hundred feet from where we were in the morning. A rebel battery was planted across the creek just opposite us, and it was our purpose to pay particular attention to it, as it was doing our boys a great deal of damage. We were just about ready to reply to their fire, when Capt. Gibbs, commanding our battery, gave the order, 'by hand to the front,' which meant that we were to seize the piece and push it farther ahead. Now this was a little difficult, for there were piles of stone there, which had been used by the infantry as a protection against the enemy's fire. But they had been knocked down and lay about in heaps, so it was tough work to get our cannon any farther to the front. Now we approach the scaly point, and it involves two well known persons of this county-- John H. McGee and Esq. A. J. Jones-- two as brave men as ever fired a shot for their country. "Well, when the order 'by hand to the front' was given, McGee, Jones and myself jumped to the left wheel of the gun carriage to work it forward. We were all at the precise places required by the tactics on such an order. McGee caught the front of the wheel and pulled, his right leg braced up near the wheel. Jones was at the side of the wheel and pushing, his left lef thrust forward and near McGee's right leg. I was at the back of the wheel and pushing with all my might. Just at this moment came a shell from the enemy's battery towards our piece. How it did tear and scream, and how sure it was aimed! That shell came right at us. It struck John McGee's right leg and Jack Jones's left leg and tore off the lower part of those limbs. As Jones fell, or as the shell knocked him about, he struck my foot-- I was that near to him. At the same time the shell exploded, sending the pieces in every direction. Jones fell on the spot where he was struck, but McGee hopped off on the leg he had left. My 'narrow escape' consisted in being the only one of the three, tugging at the same wheel, that didn't lose a leg by that shot. "Really, the men who ought to tell this story are friends McGee and Jones, for they are the ones who got hit, and could tell it better, but then it wasn't altogether a narrow escape for them. I was the fellow who had the escape. Another remarkable thing about that shot was-- it not only took off a leg apiece of two gallant soldiers, but it was probably, the last cannon shot fired in that celebrated battle of Cedar Creek, where Sheridan made his famous ride. This is in substance about what I recollect of this exceedingly bloody and interesting reminiscence." [The Reporter will add, for the benefit of the reader who may not know them, that Messr. McGee and Esquire A. J. Jones are two prominent citizens now living in this county, the former at Rockcamp and the latter at Willow Wood. They each sport a peg leg, one the left and the other the right. When one walks along the sidewalk, you couldn't tell from the noise whether it is John or Jack, unless you looked up to see. At the Portsmouth reunion they rode together, and were the observed of all observers. May they live long and be happy.] *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, January 6, 1887 No. 8. THE RAID OF THE ONE HUNDRED "Hello, Maj. McMahon, you are the person I want to absorb for a moment or two," said the REGISTER reporter when he met the old veteran enjoying the warmth of Mr. Walburn's office. "What do you want me for?" asked the Major--"I am at peace with all the world." "Oh, that 'Narrow Escape' that you had-- give it to me quick," returned the reporter. "Give me time to think one up; don't pounce on a fellow so sudden. There are lots of narrow escapes with a fellow who was out four years, but it is not so easy to pick one out to tell." "Tell him about that raid of the one hundred," interposed Charley Crawshaw. "That was nothing but a piece of cheek," replied the Major. "We came out of that without the loss of a horse or man and didn't fire a gun. It was only a piece of glaring impudence all through. It was in January 1863, that Gen. Crook sent 100 men on a raid to burn Newbern bridge. They were made up of men picked from the companies of the Second Va. Cavalry. It was in January, as I said, we started from Fayetteville, West Va. The entire regiment, Col. Powell in command, went to Lewisburg to attract the attention of the enemy, and at Meadow Bluff the 100 cavalrymen in command of Lieut. Col. Paxton, took off southward. I was with the raiders and we left the main body of the cavalry at 10 o'clock at night, reaching Edgar's ford of Greenbrier river, at daylight." "Before we got there, however, I suggested to Col. Paxton, that we should pull off all the brass on our uniform and coyer ourselves with our gray blankets, for if we didn't, we wouldn't last two hours after we crossed the Greenbrier. The suggestion was at once adopted, and well was it, for across the ford we ran into a rebel camp, that was just hustling about getting an early breakfast. But we kept off to one side, within talking distance however, and some of our boys exchanged words with the confeds. They holloed, "What cavalry is that?" and one of our boys responded, "Clarkson's cavalry--been down about Gauley on a raid." They looked a little curious, and we could tell there was some doubt among them, but we appeared as indiffered and unconcerned as possible and managed to get along without any disturbance." "We had not gone far before we overtook Col. McCauslin, a very prominent rebel officer, in those parts. He rode along with our command for some miles, Capt. Arkrim keeping with him and entertaining him. Ankrim was an old Virginian himself and played it fine on McCauslin, but we never had any idea but that the latter saw through the ruse; for he exhibited a disposition to part from his company, which he finally did, after a ride of four miles, with a kindly farewell and a perfect show of innocence. Of course, he struck out to rally his own forces, but Ankrim had mystified him, so that he was not able afterward to catch us." "We passed through Centerville, Monroe county, while they were holding some sort of an election. The town was full of people and reb troops were there in abundance. Our boys talked with the rebs as we rode along the streets, and the people talked back; at the same time I could see some dubious looks among the countenances. Soon after we left the town, we met a bunch of rebel cavalry coming up the road. At the first sight of us, they stopped suddenly and looked with some alarm at us; but we didn't let on to notice them, so they came ahead and we passed each other with many a "how are you?" "where you going?" "what's the news?" Thus we met rebs all along. Indeed they came uncomfortably thick. Here we were, a hundred of us, going right among them and through their country, with only an old blanket between their vision and the federal blue." We got to the mountains by night, and there we fed, at an old fellow's by the name of Col. Symmes, and we gave him an order on the reb. quartermaster at newbern for his pay. We beguiled that old fellow nicely. He was very exact in measuring the corn, and when some of the boys were a little impatient and tried to get a feed before he had measured it, he shoved them aside, and insisted that they wait. He wanted exact measure and exact pay. Near there we, also, encountered a reb paymaster, who had about $100,000 of confed. money, and was on his way to pay off the troops. We passed the time of day with him, and expressed a wish to get back to our command in time to draw our pay. We played it nice on him and he left us thinking we were Johnny Reb. beyond a surmise." "Our guides got mixed up at Peters Mountain, and were completely lost. There was snow on the ground, and that helped to bewilder them. They were unable to tell which way to go to get to Newbern bridge. It was then after dark, and we were 25 miles from Newbern bridge, so we concluded to get out of there. We then started and rode all night, crossing New river above Blue Stone, and then to Raleigh, where we met two of our own companies which had been sent out to look after us, and from there, it was an easy an safe ride to Fayetteville." "We had been gone four days, rode all the time night and day, right through the enemy's country, with no support, and with no intention to fight, but only to play it on the rebs by pretending to belong to that side. We met them everywhere, talked with them, and it is a perfect mystery that they didn't find us out in time to surround us and capture the whole business. This is no bloody tale, but I tell you that the four days of hard riding and harder anxiety was a good deal more powerful than a right smart skirmish would have been. As I remarked when you first spoke, that it was no very "narrow escape," but a perfect specimen of Yankee brass." Well Major, that is a good one," said the reporter. "It gives variety to our narratives. I know you were in bloodier affairs, but this is just the kind of narrow escape we want this week. The boys in the war had variety and we want to tell it all." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, January 13, 1887 No. 9 HOW A PICKET POST WAS CAPTURED The REGISTER reporter encountered E. P. Steed, in town the other day, and made him fork over a "Narrow Escape." He was a member of CO. F., 1st Va. Cavalry. It seems that the Va. Cavalry service had a wonderful fascination for our boys, as many of them went into that arm of the service from this county. We have told several "Narrow Escapes" of the 2nd Va. boys and now one from the 1st Va. is in order. "Well sir," said Mr. Steed, "what I am to tell you about, happened on the 14th day of December 1862, when our army was lying near Centerville, and our company was doing picket duty at Bull Run bridge. There were sixteen of us sent out from the regiment, and we were posted a short distance from the bridge, on the left side of the road, in a pine thicket. In the fore part of the night, six of us patrolled the pike, crossing the bridge and going toward Gainesville five miles off. We had returned about midnight, and turned in with boys, thinking everything was all right. Of course we had out sentries--one near the bridge, and one back of us on the road, between us and our regiment." "About 2 o'clock in the morning, I heard some horses' hoofs, coming slowly towards us, and pretty soon I heard the sentry between us and the camp, call out: "Halt, who comes there?" "Friends with the countersign," replied a voice. "Advance, friends, and give the countersign," returned the sentry. "They did advance, and in doing so gobbled the sentry, and the next instant fired a volley right into our post. Oh, I tell you there was a hustling and a scampering in every direction. With the volley came the rebels with a yell, right down on us. It seemed to me every one of us was gone for good; that there were no possible chance of a single one of us getting out of there. But I dodged about among them the best I could, right between them, almost touching them, and by freely using my legs, got out of that scrimmage, and ran about 75 yards till I came to a gulley, into which I dropped and laid down in it as close as possible for three-quarters of an hour. In the meantime, the rebs were scouring about, trying to get as many of our boys as possible. I lay there thinking every minute my time had come, but as good luck would have it, they missed me, and in a short time, I saw they were getting away from there, expecting, of course, our regiment would soon be there. "Well, I laid there until about 3 o'clock, and then I thought I'd get into a skirt of pine woods about 100 yards distant, and across the open field I ran with all my might. When I got into the woods, I though to myself, the safest thing to do, was to stay right there, lest in going into camp at that hour, I might have some serious complications with the sentries. So I sat at the foot of a white oak tree, and waited and watched for daylight, which seemed never would come. I shivered and nodded and listened and imagined all sorts of things till the first faint blush of day came, and then glancing suspiciously about, I thought I saw the form of a man, under a tree about 30 yards away, and soon I felt sure it was a man. Then I began to wonder who it was, and whether it was an enemy or not. Maybe it is a reb with a gun looking for me! Thus painfully musing in my mind I kept an eye on the indistinct form, at the same time breathing low and holding myself perfectly still lest I would be discovered. That man seemed to be pursuing the same tactics. He was as still as the tree at whose foot he sat. He didn't move a muscle, except I thought I could see him turn his head slowly, but I know he didn't see me. And yet, the suspense was terrible. Here we were, right after a fight, and I trying to get away. There a reb looking for me. I was two miles from camp. I would be murdered, and the world would never know it. "At length, daylight began to grow stronger, and I imagined I saw a bluish cast to the man's clothes, and that was a big consolation. Then I peered more intently, and the more I looked, the calmer I became--it was blue clothes sure enough, but the figure never moved. This worried me; but the next thought that came to me was, that form is familiar, yes I know it; I'll call out. So helloed softly: "Ben." "The figure turned its head, with a "hello" from its lips, and sure enough, it was he--my old messmate Ben Griffith. Well, now that meeting was a jolly one, for it ended a dreadful suspense. He, like me, had escaped and started for camp, but had concluded it wasn't safe to venture further till daylight. Thus my 'narrow escape' at the picket post terminated with a queer little romance." "Indeed it did," said the reporter. "and I thank you very much for the story." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, January 20, 1887 No. 10 HOW HEN ADAMS WAS CAPTURED "Hello, Henry," said the REGISTER reporter to Henry Adams. "I'm on the hunt for a 'Narrow Escape'; please proceed." "Well, now, this is too sudden," returned Henry; "give me a chance to think up one." "Oh, no; you ought to have had one thought up-- give about your capture, if you can't think of another. While it was no escape, yet you were in pretty close quarters." "Yes, I can tell you of that. I was a member of Battery B, commanding. On the 3d of January, 1863, the rebs attacked us at Moorfield and we drove them off and supposed they were gone. So on the 5th, I was started to Winchester with a battery wagon, a forge and a baggage wagon. We were guarded by 25 cavalry of Capt. Rowan's company, 1st W. Va. Lieut. Dawson in command. We left Moorfield about 7 a. m., and started on a two or three days journey, but very suddenly our progress was cut off. We hadn't been gone an hour, and while yet in sight of Moorfield, two companies of reb cavalry came swooping down on us. Lieut. Dawson and his 25 cavalrymen were in our lead, and the rebs drove them back, but notwithstanding their good fighting, they were all around us. Three or four were killed or wounded. I was standing right by the battery wagon where I had emptied my revolver at them, when a reb officer dashed right at me, and pointing his revolver in my face, said: "Well, of course, I did, and I didn't hesitate either. I was only glad to get off that easy. He put me in charge of a guard, and kept on. I tell you it was no time when they had us all, 33, prisoners, each in charge of a guard. They set fire to the wagons, and started us toward the mountains--prisoners and guards ahead, and the reb companies behind. "Of Course, our camp at Moorfield caught on to the racket right off, and Ringgold's cavalry started in pursuit, and from 8 o'clock in the morning until 10 at night we could hear the banging and the clatter at the rear. Three times we caught sight of our men, in pursuit of us, and our hopes grew bright, but as often we were disappointed. So at 10 o'clock that night, when we got into the mountains, our would-be rescuers gave up the chase. "We kept on and in a few days came into the valley at Strasburg. We were treated kindly by the guards. Capt. McNeal, the reb commander, said when we started on our fight, 'Now, if a guard mistreats any of you, let me know, and I'll tend to him. I was captured once myself at Lexington, Mo., by Col. Mulligan, and treated generously and so shall be my prisoners. But at Strasburg, we were handed over to Gen. Imboden, and then things were different. Every little article we had, even our pocket combs, was taken from us. Some of our boys had just been paid off, and they had to give up their money. Max Stoker, who lived at Hanging Rock, lost $217.65. My little $27 went, too. Ed. Lyman and I were taken before the General together. Ed. Had bought a $60 silver watch just before we were captured, and then that was taken, Ed. could not contain himself, so he broke out: 'Gen. Imboden, I consider you a d---n thief.' Imboden retorted: 'Shut up; we shoot men for less thing than that.' 'Shoot and be dashed,' replied Ed., 'it will be only one man less.' He was not shot, but he was tied down out in the cold night, that awful January night, and came near freezing to death. It was a 'narrow escape' for him, for he would have frozen to death as sure as fate, had not some one, having great pity, taken him an overcoat, about midnight. Other boys who were with us were Jim Henry, Hezekiah Miner, Davy Thomas, James Howard and Pete D'Army. All of them lost their two months pay, or what was in their pockets, left of it. "We were then sent off to Libby Prison, where we remained 32 days, and then we were sent to City Point, where we were parolled. Then we went to Parolled Prisoners' Camp at Annapolis, where Ed. Lyman and myself, by a little dodge, got a furlough. We went to Baltimore, where we reported to Gen. Wool, and the old white-headed General treated us nicely. After a short visit home, we were exchanged and returned to our regiment. "When I left Capt. McNeal, who had captured us, at Strasburg, he gave me a letter to Col. Mulligan, his captor, which I had to sew up in my coat to protect McNeal and get it through the lines I presented it to Mulligan in the Shanandoah valley and he seemed delighted to hear from his old prisoner and the effect of his own kind treatment." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, January 27, 1887 No. 11 IN THE RIFLE PITS John E. Stewart, of Symmes township, was a member of Co. G. 53d O. V. I. Capt. Geo. K. Hosford's company. His allusion to his old Captain, which was warmly complimentary, brought on the talk, which finally wound up with some of his army experience, which we propose to weave into a "Narrow Escape." "It was in front of Atlanta in the Summer of 1864, where we boys had a pretty tough time and many a big scare. The rebs had their lines of protection around Atlanta in pretty good shape, and so our troops invested it slowly and cautiously." "Our command occupied a gentle ridge and was protected by the summit. The rebel line was stretched along a parallel ridge, just opposite, probably, about 300 yards. The rebel sharp-shooters held the valley between. Our skirmish pits were just over the ridge which our line occupied and about thirty yards ahead of it. These pits were holes in the ground, about 15 feet long, the dirt thrown up in front, and on the dirt, rails laid, so as to form little port holes. Each of these pits were occupied by ten or twelve soldiers. A profile of the way the land lay is thus shown: ______ ___________ _____ "a" shows our line; "b" the skirmish pits; "c" the rebel sharpshooters; "d" the rebel line." "The skirmish pits were dangerous places. Many a soldier lost his life there. They were well arranged for protection, but the reb. sharpshooters got the hand of watching the little port holes, and as soon as they would see a shadow move across one, which was sure proof of some of us peeping, a ball from a reb. rifle already aimed would strike pretty close, if it did not perforate some poor head. One day, while I was watching the chance to off some rebel across the valley or among the sharpshooters, and I was mighty careful not to fill the entire port hole with my head, "zip" cause a bullet and struck the rail just above my cranium. My! but I was scared; and I fell back, and quivered as if a ball had gone right through me. It was sometime before I could muster up courage, to take a peep at that port hole again." "Sometimes, the rebels would make a dash on our skirmish pits and capture the boys. They would attempt this generally, at night, when they could creep up through the timber and undergrowth close to us. To obviate this, our forces would put out sentries, some 30 steps in advance of the skirmish pits, to raise the alarm if the rebs gathered to make a rush on the pits." "One night about eight o'clock--when it was pretty dark--I was detailed as sentry, and left the pit on the hazardous mission. I advanced about thirty steps, as quietly and stealthily as possible, expecting every moment to meet a reb, or a bullet from him. It was quite dark, and I thought it well enough to seek the assistance of some friendly shadow or accommodating obstacle to assist me in keeping the watch with safety to myself as well as efficiency for the service; and so, after feeling and crawling around sometime, I came upon a little bunch of sumac or sassafras, which was no protection, but the mere outline of one, for a night watch." "So, I began bestowing myself as quietly as possible behind that bush, letting myself down easily, and straightening my legs for a night's watch; but just at the critical moment when silence was worth a world to me, I ran my foot against a stick which broke and snapped like a young pistol. Immediately, bang, bang, bang, went rifles in front of me, and the balls whizzed and struck all around me. I thought I was gone; in fact, I did go; but is was to the skirmish pits--helter-skelter, race horse speed, I skipped those thirty steps, and into the skirmish pit, like a prairie dog into his mound. There must have been fifty balls struck around that rifle pit just as I jumped into it. How the boys did laugh! And how I enjoyed it too, then; for I laughed with them most heartily. I could afford to laugh, for my "narrow escape" had doubtless saved an attack on the pits, for the rebs were certainly gathering for that kind of job." "I may mention here that going from the line to the pits, (a to b in the diagram) was a perilous performance. Many a brave soldier fell, while rushing across that open space. I remember John Gossett, who lived in this county, was shot in the head and killed while running from the line to the pits." "That is a very interesting experience, Mr. Stewart," said the reporter. "Were there other boys from this county in the pits beside yourself?" "Yes," he replied, "I think John or Charley Earles was in the pit the night I rushed for it so heartily." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, February 3, 1887 No. 12. GRAPE(S) SHOT IN THE FRYING PAN "Hello, John Wilson, haven't you a 'Narrow Escape' for the Register." "I don't know. I was in several close places." "Well, we want your closest call." "Well, I believe that was at Winchester. I was in Co. D, 23d O. V. I., President Hayes' old regiment. Our regiment saw a good deal of hard service. At Cloyd Mountain, we lost 38 killed and wounded out of my company. I have had holes shot through my blouse several times, but I consider my 'Narrow Escape" "We kept up our retreat till we reached Bunker Hill. There we fell into line of battle again, and when the rebs came up, gave them another volley. While we were in line of battle here, a boy named Cubbage asked: "John, what make your frying pan handle stick out so straight?" "I answered: 'I must have caught it on an apple tree limb and bent it.' "But, upon examining my knapsack to see what was the matter, I found a grape shot imbedded in the pan. It had passed through my oil blanket and woolen blanket, and bent up my frying pan until it looked like a ____ ___. I was glad it was the pan, though, and not myself that was drawn up so." "Well, that we indeed interesting," added the reporter. "The more I gather in these narrow escapes, the more varied and interesting they become. Thank you, John." "You're welcome, sir." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, September 08, 1887 No. 43 "Halt, there, John L. Rogers; didn't you have a "narrow escape" in the army?" "Yes, I had a few," he said. "Well, please reach down in your memory for a good one, for the REGISTER." "I have one already in mind. Some of the boys have wanted me to give it to the REGISTER, but I thought I'd wait till you wanted it right bad." "Now is the time," said the reporter; "let us have it." I belonged to Co. G, 4th Ohio Cavalry. In the Fall of 1862, probably October, a battalion of 300 of us was sent to Lexington, Ky., under Capt. Robby, to watch the enemy in that region. We reached the place just at dusk. Lieut. Shoemaker, of Dayton, O., had charge of the patrol of which I was, and was stationed in the Court House; while the regiment went into camp just outside the city. All went well till about 4 o'clock, the next morning. We were just getting ready to start out with the relief, when to our great dismay, we heard musketry on the street, and in the direction of our battalion camp. Then we struck out to the livery stable to get our horses, but soon saw we were cut off on every side. We then hastened back into the Court House, barred the door and took our stand in the second story. There were just thirteen of us and we fixed for fight. We put our cartridges on the window sills and got ready for action. It was just the dawn of day, when Col. Morgan came marching up the street, with his regiment. Now don't get disgusted if "I" is prominent all the way through. This is a personal experience. I said: "There they come." "Don't shoot," said the Lieutenant, "they are Home Guards - don't you see their blue overcoats?" And sure enough, there were the blue overcoats. Just then a voice rang out from the head of the regiment, "Come down out of there, you d--- Yankees or we will bring you down." "Home Guards, h---, they are rebels," I said, and bang went my carbine, followed by eleven others. Then the fun began. Our firing was damaging to the foe, while theirs was harmless to us. The rebs. soon retreated out of range, and then after some skirmishing, firing ceased for a time. Then a white flag came down the street, and the bearer demanded that we surrender. We refused, and skirmishing began again, during which a reb fell dead who attempted to haul down our flag. After while, under another flag of truce, came a second demand to surrender, and that was refused. Presently, the third flag came up the street and stopped opposite the Court House. There were four men with it - two rebel officers, the Mayor of Lexington and Capt. Robby, who was a prisoner. Down the street were three cannon, and at their mussles, three of our men tied to show us they were prisoners. We chided the boys for their bad luck and company. The reb officers again demanded our surrender, and we said "Never." Then the Mayor said; "Soldiers of the United States, you have done your duty. I am the Mayor of Lexington, and Gen. Morgan has captured all the troops outside the Court House, and is here with his whole army, and says if you refuse to surrender this time, he will burn the city and shell the Court House. In the name of the citizens of Lexington, I ask you as brave soldiers, to surrender, to save the city from ashes." Then Capt. Robby said: "Yes, boys, you must surrender." We said "Never - as long as a man is left." Then the rebel officer said: "Gen. Morgan says he will parole you all at once and you shall have all your private property, and shall be treated like gentlemen." So, we held a short council of war, and as our ammunition was about gone, agreed to surrender, and Lieut. Shoemaker, as brave a man as ever wore a saber, announced the fact. We went down, opened the door, filed out with our carbines and sabers in our hands. Our first greeting was a wild yell, "throw down them arms." The street was full of rebel troops, in line of battle as if they expected to be attacked by thirteen poor scared boys. We pitched our arms into a pile, and filed into line on the sidewalk facing John Morgan's army. Gen. Morgan rode up and said: "Is this all the men in the Court House? Take off your hats and let me see if you have horns. You look to be real human beings; but what sort of devils are you to keep an army of 7000 at bay for six long hours? Go back to your post, get your paroles there, go home and for God's sake stay there. I don't want to fight your kind - you have killed and wounded of my men more than three times your own number." One of the killed was his own cousin who he said was the best officer he had. As he renewed his orders to "go get the paroles," I said: "General, our clothing and other private property is at the livery stable - you said we should have it." "Yes, that's all right," said the General, and he called out a guard to take us to the livery stable. There we found our saddles piled in a heap, and skinned of everything. I had a picture of my father and mother in my saddle pockets, that I wanted very bad, and I told the Quarter Master, he would find my name on my saddle. "What is your name," he asked and I told him. Then he called out to a tall fellow: "Hello, Jim, come here and see one of your Yankee relations." "Not much," said I. "Why?" asked the Quarter Master. "Because," I replied, "there is no dÑn rebel related to me." "What," said the Q.M., "say that again." I said it again, for I was pretty mad; and the blamed scamp out with his big revolver, cocked it, looked pale, and said "go way, you black livered Yankee or I'll blow your head off." I, like a fool, said, "crack away - you are an infernal coward to pull that on me." "Go way," he screamed with the pistol right in my face, when Will Deering and Clum Wakefield pulled me away, or I believe he would have shot me right there. Well, we didn't get any private property. The rebs. attended to that before we got there; so we went back to the Court House and got our paroles. Then after a big dinner at the hotel, which Gen. Morgan ordered for us and paid for himself, we started afoot overland for the Ohio river at Covington. There were of our party who started afoot: Orderly Sergeant Isaac Moore, Elisha Thornton, Columbus G. Wakefield, William Deering, Elizur C. Newton, G. W. Gould, Henry Arnett and myself. We were three days on the road and it was hard for a soldier to get anything to eat along that route. On the second day, we came up to a colored man with a wagon and two mules. We pressed him into the service for a ride. We were all right for a few miles, when four men rode up behind the wagon, and stayed with us till we got near some small town, I have forgotten the name, when the big man told one of his associates, to change with the darkey, and drive the team himself, to which we demurred. Soon, when the team got to a certain point in the town, the big man ordered the negro to stop; he had gone as far as he could go; let the soldiers get out and walk now. We remonstrated but the big man said it was no good, he was the Sheriff of that county and would put us in jail, if we didn't get out; and here came about 25 citizens, some with shot guns and some with revolvers. One little fellow who seemed to be the leader said: "Give 'em to us - - - 'em; we'll fix 'em." "You will," said I, "- - what are you? d Ð guerillas?" At this he swore he "could whip any - - Yankee in the Yankee army." I wasn't then as I am now. I weighed 185 pounds, and wanted to tackle the fellow, but the Sheriff said "Get out of here - go away," and Thornton and Moore pulled me away and we went on. We were fearfully hungry, so about sun down we stopped at a house on the road and got a splendid supper. I thought they would want pay, and as we hadn't anything, I concluded to get done first, and go on, letting the other boys rassle with the bill; but I hadn't got far till I was called. It was Moore's voice. He said they wanted pay, and for me to come back and do the talking. I found the boys talking to a man at the gate post. That was the doctor, who was talking for the lady of the house who was sick. I explained our situation, and he said it was not his affair - to go and talk with the lady. So I went in the sick room and told the woman the circumstances and she said we were welcome, if Gen. Morgan had captured us - to go home and not fight against the South any more; and so we went on, and finally got to Cincinnati foot sore and weary. Here we tried to get a boat home, but having no money, found no room. A big walk stared us in the face, but I couldn't see it. Coming to the steamer, C. B. Levi, with steamers up for Gallipolis, I went aboard, and found that Capt. Sam Hempstead was Captain. I told him our situation, and he took my hand and shook it kindly and said "bring up the boys, and we will do the best we can for them." So I brought up the boys, and Capt. Hempstead gave us all state rooms, saying if anybody had to sleep on the cots it would be the other passengers. When supper was ready, we found places reserved for us at the table, for the boat was full of passengers; and the Captain said "Give these boys all they want, for they have been at the front." We got it and good beds where we slept soundly and dreamed of home. At Portsmouth, John Campbell came aboard; and was soon engaged in talking to the boys. When he found our fare was not paid, he walked up to the clerk's desk and paid the bill in full. That's the sort of a loyal and generous man John Campbell is. Our arrival at home surprised our friends, but after our happy surprise was over, we were ordered to report at Camp Chase. While there thinking of the girls we left behind us, Elijah Thornton bantered me to go home and marry the girls we left behind, and I took the dare, and we made sure of our girls. When we went back to Camp Chase we were ordered to the front again, and we got there just in time for Stone River. Three of that party have gone to join the great army above - Wakefield, Gould and Arnett - but the remainder of us are still here to talk over those exciting times we passed through, and specially, the narrow escape at Lexington." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, October 13, 1887 No. 48. Dr. Jona Morris was one of those Army Surgeons, who went where duty called him, whether it was dangerous or not. If a boy was wounded, he was by his side, however thick the balls flew. So, the REGISTER scribe alighted on him for a "narrow escape." "About as bad a fix as ever I got into" said he, "was at Cloyd Mountain; but the matter possesses no details that are personally thrilling. It was just such a place where the shooting was terrible, and I can't see how I escaped the balls. You will remember our first line was drawn back at Cloyd Mountain and for a moment or two the prospect was decidedly dark. When the first line fell back, I had got out there to attend to the wounded of which there were many, when the brigade on the right came up and poured in a cross fire on the very ground where I was. That was all there was of it, an exceedingly heavy fire which I proceeded to get out of as rapidly as possible. But you are after personal incidents, where the escapes were peculiar to the individual. The one that comes to my mind now was the event at Guyandotte where I did make a pretty narrow escape. Col. Whaley was forming a regiment at Guyandotte in the fall of 1861. He had got together about 120 men, and I was there as the surgeon of the new regiment. On the night of the 9th of November, just as I had returned from church, about 9 o'clock on Sunday night, I heard some firing at the edge of town, up the Guyandotte river; and thinking it was some careless or foolish firing by our pickets, I started up that way to stop it. I had got a little beyond the bridge, and immediately after shots were fired, some of the balls coming uncomfortably close to me. Of course, the town was in an uproar immediately and everything in confusion; so I started back to get to my hotel as soon as possible. The fact was, Col. Clarkson and about 1500 rebel troops had seized the town. They were all mounted and upon us before we knew it. Beyond the town, a short distance, they had divided, one-half coming down on the west side of Guyan river and the other half taking in the east side of the town. Well, by the time I had got to the hotel, it was surrounded and a good deal of firing had been going on. In fact, several persons had been killed and wounded. The night was dark and it was hard to tell friend from foe, so I thought the thing to do was to get into the hotel and skip to my room. So I started in at the front door. In front was troop of reb. Cavalry banging away at somebody all the time. I entered at the front door, and started up stairs, somewhat in a hurry, for I didn't know how soon a ball would come searching for me. Just as I was getting toward the top of the steps, some one fired a shot through the hall, which was a signal for the rebs. outside to open up, and then came a tremendous volley into that hall. Just then was about as scaly a little time as I experienced during the war. I was nearly at the top of the steps when the volley came, and I jumped forward to the landing above and into a room, without knowing whether I was killed or wounded or only badly scared. One thing I knew, however, and that was, I was pretty mad, and having a little "pop" with me I ran to the window to fire that into the street, when some man in the room, exclaimed, "for God's sake, don't fire out that window, we will be riddled to pieces in a moment." At this, I got back from the window, when a moment or so after, a new sensation arose. A man called from the street "come out of the hotel, every one of you or we will burn it to the ground." I knew that meant business, so I went out into the hall and proceeded to feel my way down the stairway. At the bottom of the steps I stumbled over a dead man, in a side room, I heard the groaning of wounded men. It was a very ghastly moment for me, as I didn't know how soon my time would come. But I boldly stepped out the front door into the presence of the rebs. and immediately plead, "don't fire the building, don't shoot in there. There are wounded men who need assistance, and I want a light so as to dress their wounds." This speech had some effect, and some of them entered the hotel, striking lights, to hunt up the wounded. The dead man whom I had stumbled over proved to be a citizen of Guyandotte, by the name of Huddleson. In a side room we found a reb. Soldier, shot in the side. I dressed his wounds and others, and then was made a prisoner myself. They tied my arms behind me, guarded me closely till morning, and then marched me off with about sixty others, among whom was Col. Whaley, who escaped a day or two after. They took us to Libby where I remained four and a half months. I fell under the immediate charge of Capt. Henry Clay Plate, for several days after my capture, and would have fared pretty badly, if it hadn't been for Gen. Jenkins. One thing I may safely claim credit for and that is saving Col. Zeigler at Ceredo. He was there forming a regiment, and it was part of the plan to capture his rising force. They asked me particularly about him, how many men he had and especially if he had artillery. I told him he had 2500 men and four cannon, and so they concluded not to attack him. It is allowed in war, you know, to deceive the enemy. *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, October 20, 1887 No. 49 Seeing Guy Rowe at the corner of Second and Center, apparently waiting for some one, the REGISTER reporter thought he'd make the moment pass more swiftly, by inquiring of Guy, if amid the carnage and thunder of war he had had any thrilling experience. But Guy parried the inquiry with a promise to regale us with a good long one at another time. That's the reporter's usual experience, and if he consulted the convenience or pleasure of the man who narrowly escaped, the lively and interesting articles that have graced this column for nearly a year now, would have been few and far between. "You read Dr. Morris at Cloyd Mountain last week, did you not?" we asked. "Oh yes," he said, " and it was interesting; but our regiment was not at Cloyd Mountain; we were back of Lewisberg." "Well, you were in the Shenandoah Valley in 1864, I know?" we suggested. "Yes, I was there," said Guy, "and many a hot time we had in battle, but you can tell all about that. There was a little affair that I often think about, where I had a narrow escape. That was at Hall Town, a day or so after the battle of Carter Farm. Our skirmishers were out, and kept up a little ado, with the rebel skirmishers, and I thought I'd go into an orchard near by and see what was going on. I had Capt. McQuigg's spy glass with me, and was leaning back against a tree with my legs spraddled out a little. I was looking through the glass, when some of the boys clustered around; and asked for a peep. I told them to scatter; the reb skirmishers were within range and would draw a bead on us, for they would be certain to see us. Just then, a ball struck the tree above, and the boys scattered. I thought I'd stay, but it was only for a moment, for a minnie came hissing right for me and struck the tree right between my legs. I though that was close enough and so I skipped. "But the next day I had a funny experience and a close call. Then was when Early's army came down on our little line and pushed us back. We went pell mell, every fellow for himself back to where it was safer. While we were thus falling back, I struck a little experience that will do me all my life. A board fence stretched around an orchard, and greatly interfered with the progress of the retreat. I espied a plank off of the fence, next to the top, and I made for that thinking to get through easily. But being in a great hurry, and very anxious, things didn't work as smoothly as I expected, for when I let down on the other side, behold I couldn't get down. A spring on my sword belt caught on the board some way and left me hanging, and the more I "rassled" to get out of there, the tighter I was held to the fence. I pitched and tossed and scrambled and still couldn't get loose. The rebs. were close upon us. All the boys had gone on; and there I was left hanging to that board fence. The reb. balls hissed around, and the only question with me was, whether one would reach me before the rebs. did. While thus hanging in suspense, I made one last, final jerk, and got loose. Then I flew. I must have kept up with the minnie balls, for I can't understand how else I could escape. Soon I got to our battery, and then I drew a good breath, though it was some time before I caught up with my company. I was reported dead, but I was happy to make a personal correction of the rumor." *********************************************************************** NARROW ESCAPES INTERESTING WAR EXPERIENCES Ironton Register, Thursday, October 27, 1887 No. 50. At the generous supper table of Dr. Ewing, of Jackson, we were introduced to Col. W. H. Raynor, of the old 56th Ohio. He is a large man, of robust health, clear eye, fresh complexion and very companionable, though somewhat modest in his demeanor. He enjoys the peculiar distinction of having met with a very singular, narrow escape and having it told, at great length, by a distinguished author, John S. C. Abbott, in Harper's Magazine, twenty years ago. We read it at the time, but the facts had nearly faded from our memory, and would sometimes go entirely, had we not met the hero himself, and enjoyed the story from his own lips. It happened to be mentioned at the table, that Col. Raynor had been in Libby prison, and the ladies were quick to ask him more about it, and for them he told the story. The Colonel is now a manufacturer in Toledo, a very practical man, and so he did no garnish his narrative with any startling effects or rhetorical streamers. He was made a prisoner in the early part of the war, at the time of the Viennia ambuscade, or shortly after. That was the first time he was a prisoner. He was then a Lieutenant in the three months' service. He afterward became Colonel of the 56th Ohio and was captured while running the rebel batteries on Red River in 1864. He was wounded both times he was captured. But it was during his first capture, and while a prisoner at Libby prison that his exciting narrow escape occurred. It happened in this way. There were several wounded union soldiers at Libby, at the time, and the services of the rebel surgeons being demanded elsewhere, the care of these union soldiers was turned over to the union surgeons who were in prison. At first the regulations were strict, but after while, it was found very inconvenient to give a pass to the union surgeons every time they wanted to go out to get a little medicine or something that was needed for the sick and wounded, so they provided the union doctors with a red rosette and let them out on parole, that parole providing that their liberty should be used solely for the needs of the sick and wounded, and that they would promptly return to prison, whenever allowed to pass the guards. So that little red rosette was regarded as a sign of freedom and they who wore it, went in and out of the prison, and through the streets of Richmond unmolested. Of course, this regulation suggested a very important question to the other prisoners--why not get rosettes too, and go forth and keep going, and get back to God's country again? This subject impressed itself on Col. Raynor's mind, and he and three other prisoners resolved to play the surgeon and get out of there. But how to get the rosettes was the great difficulty. Of course, it would not do to sound the surgeons about it, or borrow one of their rosettes, or get them to procure some suitable material for the surgeons were on their honor and must not be approached. Col. Raynor says he tried every way to get some one to buy him some red ribbon at a Richmond store, but failed. At one time, he made an express contract with a fellow who came around to sell pies and tinkets to the prisoners, but the fellow never came with the ribbon. For a long time they worked to get the material to make rosettes of but were disappointed. At last, after nearly giving up all hope, Col. Raynor says he observed a red shirt hanging up, drying in the prison. It belonged to one of the prisoners. Immediately, the thought struck him, why not make rosettes from that red shirt? He forthwith set about to do it. Cutting a few strips from the shirt, he retired to his corner, apprised his three associates, and soon four rosettes were the result. Now, came the dangerous part of the program, the going forth past the guards, and out into Richmond, and beyond. So the time was set, and Raynor was to try it first. He boldly walked down to the door, where the sentinel stood holding a musket, with the bayonet resting against the opposite side of the door. Raynor simply lifted the gun up and passed as if he had done it often before. The sentinel saw the red rosette and let him go on. Once out in the street, it didn't make much difference whether he wore the red rosette or not, as his clothes were as gray and ragged as those of any reb. He sauntered through the streets unmolested. He met crowds of people but no one questioned his liberty. But he got into a bad fix at one time. A reb. soldier, who was a little tight, accosted him, and with a slap on the back, asked, "what regiment do you belong to?" The Colonel was fortunate enough to know that the 30th Virginia, was at that time, forming there, and so he answered, "the 30th Va., sir;" whereupon the man retorted, "so do I, by--; lets go in and take a drink." They were in front of a saloon, and quite a crowd surging about, so apparently intent on accepting the reb's invitation, gave him the slip and disappeared. He forthwith took his bearings, and struck out for the Potomac, which he reached without any particular mishap, except that he had to constantly sneak his way through, traveling at night and through the woods. He finally arrived at the Potomac where he soon found a union gun boat and was safe. His three companions also made the trip successfully, one of them being Col. Hurd, well known by many of the old citizens of this region. *********************************************************************** Compiled by Sharon Milich Kouns. All rights reserved. *********************************************************************** USGENWEB NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by other organization or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of this consent. *********************************************************************** File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by Sharon Milich Kouns & Peggy Wells historical@wwd.net To see an update on these pages go to the Lawrence Co. Register at http://www.wwd.net/user/historical/ August 3, 1997 ***********************************************************************