MILITARY: Civil War Reminiscences of Elijah Corbin HOUCK, Huntingdon County, PA Contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by Lana Clark Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/pafiles.htm ________________________________________________ REMINISCENCES In the Early Sixties From the Lives of THREE BROTHERS BY REV. E. C. HOUCK. With an Introduction by HIS NEPHEW PRIVATELY PRINTED, DENVER, COLO., 1920 TO HONOR THE MEMORY OF OUR MOTHERS E. C. HOUCK J. B. LOVELL "HONOR and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies." Introduction Having no recollection of ever seeing my father, when I became old enough to be of some service on the farm, to run errands, help my mother and sisters, or pick apples for cider making, of which many barrels were made every year, my uncle, Joseph L. Houck, was manager of the "Oakdale Farm," in Trough Creek Valley, where we were all born. I have a distinct recollection of what happened when I refused to pick apples. Tender twigs were not quite so thick on the trees as apples were under them; nevertheless, when Uncle was on parade, in his bright uniform as an officer in the local militia, he was every inch a hero to me. The spirit of adventure dominated the early manhood of my mother's brothers. Thus the lure of the discovery of gold in the Fraser River country caused Uncle to abandon farm life and, like many others, join an overland party to reach that far-away Eldorado. They would all have perished in crossing the Canadian Rockies had not a friendly band of Indians supplied them with food. Uncle B. F. Houck was really the only father I ever knew. He took me with him to Maryland. During 1863 I was the "little laddie" in his home. The sight of General Lee's army marching through Maryland to Pennsylvania and an all-day's engagement in their retreat, between South Mountain and the Potomac River, after the Battle of Gettysburg, with our house between the skirmish lines, so thrilled my boyish mind that the picture is more vivid in my recollection today than had it happened last year. I heard the canon boom and the shells' shrill whistle through the air, the sharp crack of the infantry rifle, even the Confederate officer's command, "Skirmishers to the right!" in a field adjoining our house. During the battle that hot July day, my uncle sat on the upper porch reading "Josephus," unafraid and seemingly wholly undisturbed. About sundown the Confederates fell back, and as we were crossing a field to a neighbors, a rifle bullet struck in the fence near my uncle. He simply drew his handkerchief from his pocket and waived it over his head and went on, while I gripped his hand in fear, thinking every whistling shell from the Federal battery was sure to hit me. One struck not far away, scooping out a lot of mother earth. That memorable summer was a wonderful experience for me. I saw the major part of both armies, and when Uncle took me back to my mother's home in Pennsylvania, I had several guns and a cavalry sabre that I had found on the battlefield. He asked my mother's consent to take me with him into the service, but both of my brothers were then in the army, so she refused absolutely to give up her baby boy, the only one left to com. The wanderlust in my Uncle E. C. Houck carried him into the then wild and woolly west, too early in my life for me to have known him in my childhood, as I did his two older brothers, but now I can say of him, as I do in loving memory of them, these three brothers, uncles of mine, were noble-minded, generous hearted men conscientious in all of their actions and thus worthy brothers of the one woman I have most loved in all the world, my mother, whose wise counsel, thought and tender love for her children was as a "deep hidden fountain, sealed and kept secret, that flowed when every other spring was dry." The following account, a condensed statement of facts of the recovery of Captain Houck's body, and the brief sketch of the youngest brother's experience in the Civil War, serving under the Confederate Flag, were written at my request, and, after Uncle had passed the fourscore period in his life. To honor the memory of my mother; and for the information of the descendants of these brothers and their relatives I am having these sketches privately printed, adding thereto, with the approval of my uncle, a personal sketch taken from the "History of Colorado." JESSE BARTON LOVELL. Denver, Colorado, December, 1919. Foreword This brief, imperfect gathering up of war incidents more than half a century after their occurrence has been undertaken at the earnest request of my highly esteemed nephew, J. Barton Lovell. Just why he wants it, or what disposition he will make of it, has not been very clearly revealed to me. Should these random incidents ever appear in print and be read by some at least who may be capable of making correct criticism, the writer asks pardon for the many errors that evidently are manifest. If General Sherman's definition of war is correct, all will agree that there cannot be great pleasure in writing or talking upon war incidents. E. C. HOUCK. During part of the John Brown excitement in Kansas, the years 1857 and 1858, I was a resident of Fairbault, Minnesota, a new town sixty miles south of St. Paul. Fairbault was the county seat of Rice county. Part of the time I was contractor and builder, other part engaged in the hardware business. Most of the American settlers were New England people, some very radical abolitionists. I, being one of the early settlers, naturally had some part in local politics. Owing to the Kansas Brown condition there were some harsh and unreasonable utterances. Occasionally a claim owner or ranchman would be in town and of course have his say. A Mr. Putman became very much offended at me and threatened to shoot me. Not being seriously alarmed at his threat I did not avoid him. Whether he was only bluffing, or changed his mind, and also his plans, I never knew, but was of course glad to escape unhurt. Owing to the great financial crash in the latter part of 1857, I, with many others in the Northwest, became bankrupt, and worked again at carpentering, and steamboated on the Mississippi River some. In the fall of 1860, in company with my former partner in the hardware business, bought and fitted up a large flat boat at Cairo, Illinois; loaded it with western produce and ran it as far as Vicksburg, Mississippi. Sold some of the produce at various points between Memphis, Tennessee, and Vicksburg, Mississippi, but had perhaps one third of our load when we landed at Vicksburg. My partner, Mr. C. T. Hinde, and the crew, consisting of four men besides ourselves, returned north. I remained in Vicksburg and continued in the produce trade, my partner shipping me other lots of produce by steamboat. Naturally, after my experience in Minnesota and being descended from Virginia and Maryland people, it was easy to pass from a neutral to a Southern sympathizer, and to aid me in this transition, the Federal Government confiscated 1,000 barrels of flour in transit. Being unable to get further supplies from the northwest, I closed out at Vicksburg. I was much perplexed in mind and heart and finally went to New Orleans undetermined what to do. By this time war preparations were active. I had written to my dear mother some time prior to my going to New Orleans that I proposed going there and that I was greatly troubled, not really desiring to go into either the North or South army and thought something of going to South America, and asked Mother to write me at New Orleans and tell me what she thought about it. While in New Orleans I received Mother's letter, the substance of which was: "You are an American, so do not leave your country; and if you must take up arms, choose that which seems to you to be the least of two evils." I returned to Vicksburg, went to Yazoo City and enlisted in Company K of the Wirt Adams Regiment of Cavalry. Our company marched from Yazoo City to Vicksburg, a distance of some thirty miles; there took steamer to Memphis, Tennessee, where we were encamped at the fair grounds for several weeks. Here we did some picket duty. Our next move was by slow marches to Bowling Green, Kentucky, where we wintered. Here the regiment organization was completed by the addition of companies from Louisiana, Alabama and Mississippi. Colonel Wirt Adams was a Mississippian but was also a large plantation owner and cotton grower in Louisiana. Lieutenant Colonel Robert Wood direct from the regular U. S. Army, as was also Major Hagy of Alabama. Our camp was near Bowling Green. We had comfortable new tents and fairly good rations, splendid forage for our horses. Our work there was almost exclusively drilling, chiefly by Colonel Wood and Major Hagy, both experts in every phase of Cavalry service. Here we did much scouting and picket duty, both of which was largely along the line of drill service. Only once while in Kentucky we had a little scrap with Northern soldiers near "Mammoth Cave." I volunteered for any and every service that would enable me to get away from camp and even the appearance of doing something. Then, too, when out of camp on duty we got our "eats" from the farm houses of Kentucky, which was a great improvement on our camp fare. Hot biscuits and fried chicken pleased at least two of the human senses. My first effort at cooking in camp was first a failure and second a success. I burned the entire ration of rice for a mess of twelve men and the other articles of food were almost ruined. That of course constituted the failure. Thereafter I was excused from cooking, which was to me a great relief and so a success. A great surprise. One day when in Bowling Green, whom should I meet up with but Adam Clarkson, of Cassville, Huntingdon county, Pennsylvania: In our brief interview I learned he was on General Hardie's staff and was also camped not far from Bowling Green. Some time in March we received orders to break camp and move. All we private soldiers knew as to where we were going or the object of our going, would not fill many pages of even a small book. It proved to be a long and tiresome march and there was little of interest to note on the long march from Bowling Green, Kentucky, to Corinth, Mississippi. "Shiloh Battle." On Sunday morning, April 6, 1862, we found ourselves in the then famous battle of "Shiloh," which began about 6:00 a. m. Sunday and continued nearly three days. About 3:00 p. m. Sunday our commanding General, Albert Sidney Johnson, was killed. General Beauregard was next in command. Up to the time General Johnson fell military experts said the three-mile battle line was kept in hand almost as complete as an army on dress parade. A Personal Incident. About 2:00 p. m. Sunday, our squadron was ordered to take shelter in a slight ravine or hollow, awaiting orders. For a short time we remained mounted. Whilst sitting in my saddle I noticed a large dogwood blossom immediately in front of my breast. About that time we had orders to dismount. We sat down upon the ground, holding our bridle reins in our hands, listening to the whistle of bullets. I looked up to see the blossom drop at my feet. I picked it up and found the stem had been cut by a bullet. What the world calls an accidental escape, but now, over half a century after the incident, I thank Him, with whom there are no accidents, that the order to dismount came before that bullet came and severed the tender blossom stem instead of lodging in or passing through my body. It was reported that about the time General Johnston was killed General U. S. Grant took personal command of the Union forces. So with the Confederate "loss" and the Union "gain" it was not strange that conditions materially changed. A Pathetic Incident. Sunday night, while on picket duty I found on my beat a Union soldier almost dead. It was very dark. I lighted a match and discovered a boy, surely yet in his 'teens; his lips were moving. I stopped and listened. He was feebly uttering, "Mother'! Mother!" How I wished then and often have since, I could have secured his mother's address and written her of her dear boy's last words. When relieved about midnight, I crept into a tent to get an hour's rest and found others had preceded me. To one I was crowding, I said: "Who am I intruding upon?" He answered: "General Breckenridge." I apologized and was about to look for other quarters when the General very kindly told me to remain and try and find room to lie down. Monday night my bed was the ground without blanket under or over me, my head pillowed on a small log of wood. When I awoke in the morning my body was in a pool of water four inches deep. It had rained nearly all night, but not hard enough to arouse me from slumber. All day Tuesday the battle went against us and Tuesday night we fell back to Corinth. At one time during the night retreat, I came in contact with Captain Adam Clarkson of Cassville again. It was too dark to see or recognize anyone, but his voice was the same as of yore. We had a few words about the loss of the battle and especially of our great general, A. S. Johnson. I find it impossible, after more than half a century has come and gone, to recall dates or places for the rest of the war Our regiment was almost constantly on the move over territory extending from east Louisiana to Tennessee and Alabama, most of the time in Mississippi. Our regiment was seldom in camp except when men and horses were much in need of rest. For a few months I was assistant quartermaster, not from choice, but in obedience to orders and because our quartermaster thought my business experience fitted me for the work. Soon after this our Company K was so largely recruited that it was decided to organize Company A and to my surprise I was unanimously elected second lieutenant of the new company. The first lieutenant of Company A was a Pennsylvanian but had lived in Mississippi a number of years. There were eight Pennsylvanians in the two companies. Owing to my good health and consequent activity I used up nine horses during the four years of service. After becoming a commissioned officer I had a negro man servant loaned to me by his owner. He was a young fellow and very unreliable, dishonest and lazy. On one occasion I had to punish him, but before doing so gave him a friendly talk, for which he afterwards thanked me, but did not express any gratitude for the whipping. Later, I had a man about forty years old, whose owner begged me to take because he seemed to be almost unmanageable. The man was lectured at the very start and told that the very first act of insubordination would be severely dealt with, but as long as he was obedient he should have fair treatment. He proved to be an excellent servant and remained with me until the war closed, and I took him at his own request with me from Alabama to his old master's home in Mississippi. While on duty at Port Gibson, Mississippi, with about twenty men, we were surprised, our pickets being driven in by a squadron of Union cavalry. After a brief skirmish with the advance guard, retreat seemed to be in order. I succeeded, however, in getting away without the loss of a man, horse or any of our effects. The greatly alarmed citizens of the town pronounced it a fairly well managed retreat. I think it was soon after this event that a very peculiar and sad experience was mine. One morning, I awoke in great distress of mind. My messmates seemed alarmed and noticing my unusual reticence and dejection begged me to have the doctor. I did not know what was the matter but knew a doctor could not even diagnose the case. That evening there was a social gathering near the camp to which a number of us were invited. When the time came to go to the party my friends insisted on my going; that the pleasant affair would dispel the gloom. Some time later I started to the party, but when at the home of Dr. Wade I dismounted from my horse and went in the house. The doctor, his wife and sister were in the room and they actually seemed alarmed. After telling them of my strange and painful experience and that it seemed to me absolutely wrong for me to attempt to participate in the pleasures of the party, they all urged me to go and that possibly it would be the means of escape from my trouble. On my arrival at the social gathering, friends began to inquire what was the matter and really my presence seemed to cast a gloom over the entire company. In a few moments conditions grew worse instead of better. Excusing myself to the family, who had kindly given me the invitation to the party, I withdrew and actually ran my horse at full speed back to camp. It was several days before normal conditions returned. I made a note of the date and one evening about three months later, when we were going into camp somewhere in Alabama, one of the men handed me a letter, the envelope nearly worn off and much soiled. It was getting dark, but by the light of the fire I began to read. The letter was from my brother Joseph and advised me that our brother Benjamin had been killed in battle on the morning of a certain date. I stopped reading at that point, referred to my memorandum and found it was the very morning of the day of my sad experience in the Mississippi camp. Science, so-called, says this kind of experience is psychological. Be that as it may, it is surely unforgettable. At the second battle of Corinth, General Maury in command, I had charge of his couriers, carrying orders from General I Maury to the other generals, colonels, etc., in the front line of battle. About 3:00 p. m. we had driven the Union forces from their front lines some two miles from the town of Corinth and thought we were about to secure a complete victory, when from their temporary trenches they opened upon us a terrific fire from field artillery and infantry. At that time I was within two hundred yards of their infantry. There were several buildings near me, upon the walls and roofs of which grapeshot and bullets rattled like hail. All around me missiles of death were whistling. My horse refused to move, although urged by word and spur and for a moment it seemed to me the horse was dead but had not yet fallen, but to my surprise and great relief he started in bounds and leaps; not running but actually jumping. Our lines were completely broken and some of the men badly demoralized. That night about ten o'clock General Maury sent an order for me to report to him. He put me in possession of important papers to be delivered at a point on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, where army supplies were stored; and where his wife and two children were at that time. My orders were to ride alone and slowly, stopping occasionally to listen. About 6:00 a. m. my horse began to show signs of failure. I dismounted and led the horse slowly until a house and little barn were discovered. In the barn lot was a loose horse. No person was then in sight. I proceeded to the lot, caught the horse and was changing saddle, etc., when the owner of the horse came out and asked me what I proposed doing and why. He filed his objections and started to the house. Of course his object was to secure his gun. I ordered him to come back and presented my authority, which was a good-sized and well-loaded Colt's revolver, and he came back. He listened respectfully to my explanation and assurance that in a few days I would return his horse and get my own, which I did. In accordance with my instructions from General Maury, I superintended the shipment of the army supplies to a point further south; also assisted Mrs. Maury and her children in their removal, after which I returned to my command. One of the most trying experiences that fell to my lot during four years of service was feeling for an ambuscade. Feeling, because it was about three o'clock in the morning and very dark. We had been moving slowly and cautiously for some time and under strict orders not to speak aloud. When we halted a whispered order came to me to dismount and "feel" my way through a dense thicket on the right side of the road. Of course the order was promptly obeyed, but with more reluctance and fear than is easily described. If the enemy had been there my chance of escape would have been almost hopeless. With the exception of some slight thorn scratches there was no damage sustained. When General Grant was fighting his way to the rear of Vicksburg, what was called the Black River Battle began in the morning and the cavalry, as usual, had part in the beginning and about 9:00 a.m. a shell from the enemy's field artillery struck the ground seemingly almost under my horse. The first thing very clearly outlined was myself feeling over my body trying to determine whether I was all there. Next discovery was my saddle and fixtures partly covered with dirt and leaves, only a few feet from me, but no horse in sight. So the saddle was shouldered and a start on foot commenced. After perhaps ten minutes' walk a fellow soldier was met leading my horse which was also unhurt. Some two hours later Colonel Adams expressed great surprise at seeing me alive, saying I was reported killed soon after the engagement began. It was surely strange that neither horse nor rider were injured. It was soon after this battle that General Sherman marched a whole army division to Meridian, Mississippi, and our regiment skirmished with Sherman's advance guard from Jackson to Meridian, and when Sherman returned we were close upon his rear. General Sherman said we were the best advance and rear guard that he ever had. Some time during the summer of '63, we had quite a scrap with General Elliot's River Brigade, composed of several transports and two or three small gunboats. This brigade operated on and along the Mississippi River. They would send a regiment out to confiscate cotton, corn or any other useful articles. On this occasion they were out as far as "Cole's Crossroads," some eight miles from the river. We met them at the Crossroads. I happened to be in charge of our advance guard and of course brought on a little fight, in the very start of which my horse was shot but not seriously hurt. Later in the action I captured a horse, man and excellent outfit, including an excellent Colt's revolver. Only nine years ago, but forty-six years after the occurrence, I met the man in Hastings, Nebraska, who was the Union lieutenant in command of the advance guard, who told me that one of his men was killed in the beginning of the "Crossroads" skirmish. This Union lieutenant, like myself, became a Baptist minister. He was then living some ten miles south of Hastings, Nebraska, where I spent a Sunday in his pleasant home. Since then he and his good wife have both gone to be with our Lord, which "is far better." Mention has been made concerning good health during my army life so it may not be amiss to state that one summer during the war typhoid fever came my way. So severe was the attack that two doctors pronounced my case hopeless, and yet our two surgeons did all for me their meager facilities at hand made possible. Being incapable of duty, I was allowed to see more comfortable quarters in a near-by farmhouse, where much kindness and care was received. Yet the fever grew rapidly so that I was started to the hospital, some fifty miles from where I was, at a place called Enterprise on the Mobil and Ohio Railroad. About an hour after starting on the train I was approached by a man I had met in Minnesota in 1857 and again in Vicksburg, Mississippi, in 1861. This friend surely came in time of need, succeeded in getting me off the train at the first stop, secreted me in the rear of an old warehouse until the train left, then hired a conveyance and transported me across country to a railroad between Jackson and Meridian, Miss.; put me on a train for Jackson, then disappeared as suddenly and quietly as he had come. In our trip across country in a buggy this man (who was at the time called a bounty jumper) had invited me to go to his home which was then n Yazoo City. This meant another hundred miles by railroad and twenty miles by stage. On arriving at Jackson late in the afternoon, I managed some way to get to the Mississippi Central Railroad station and some time in the night arrived at Vaughn's Station on the Mississippi Central Railroad and about 4 p. m. took stage for Yazoo City. Owing to my feeble condition, like the impotent man at the pool of healing waters, having no one to help me I failed to secure an inside seat in the coach and was compelled to ride on top among the luggage. When we arrived at Yazoo City and I reached the home of my friend, my physical condition was such that I fell prostrate upon the porch. The kind lady of the house and her mother helped me into the room where I was shut in for seven weeks. All this travel of over two hundred miles by railroad, buggy and stagecoach was very soon after two able physicians said I would not live but a few days. There happened to be a young doctor there who had just returned from temporary army service who was called to see and treat me. I told him about what had been said and done and he said, "Why do you call me after two eminent doctors turned you out to die?" My answer was, "Doctor, I am not ready to die, don't want to die, nor don't propose to die if I can help it." He said, "I admire your pluck, and it will help us both." All the nursing I had during my illness was a daily visit from the doctor and a half hour's service twice a day from a colored barber. About three times each day the kind lady of the house would come to the door and ask me if I could think of anything that I could eat. From seven in the evening until seven in the morning, twelve hours, I would see no one. Only once during my long siege of typhoid fever did I become delirious and then only for a short time. It was about midnight and when normal conditions returned I was walking across the room with a small pistol in each hand. These I promptly replaced on the mantel shelf and returned to my bed. It seemed like a dream and I thought a man was trying to enter the room through a window. A few weeks after leaving my room I returned to the command and resumed service. I was not even reprimanded for my apparent unsoldierly conduct. When the news of President Lincoln' assassination reached us we were in Alabama. Colonel Adams had been promoted to brigadier general. He called us together and in a very tender and informal address conveyed the sad news to his command. Among other things, he said, "This is the greatest disaster that the South has sustained since the war began." We had in our Company K, when we began and when we quit, a young man from Wisconsin whose name was and I think is ,for my impression is, he is yet among the few that are still living, B. B. Paddock. He was a clean, moral, brave young man. He carried his Bible in the inside breast pocket (which was on one occasion the means of saving his life). A bullet lodged in the Bible, that protected the region of his heart. Paddock was not the slave of immoral or useless habits in word or act. It was soon discovered when we came to the time and place of "sure enough" war, that he was more than ordinarily efficient in service and was very properly promoted finally to first sergeant and was frequently placed in charge of scouting squads and invariably made good and so merited and secured the confidence of officers and men of the regiment. One of what we called "Yankee" gunboats ventured some distance up the Yazoo River on a bright Sunday morning. Two squadrons of our regiment happened to be in that vicinity under command of Colonel "Bob" Woods, who sent young Paddock with three men to "spy out," not the lay of the land, but the lay of the boat which was at the time anchored in the middle of the narrow deep river. Paddock's report to Colonel Wood was such that the young sergeant was given two pieces of field artillery and a dozen cavalrymen and in short time all returned safely, having virtually demolished the little gunboat. Evidently the officers of the boat were over- confident of their safety and possibly asleep. We supposed they made their escape into the woods. Soon after the close of the war Paddock married an excellent young lady whose home was near Lafayette, Mississippi. They acted in harmony with Horace Greeley's advise, "went west,' located in the city of Fort Worth, Texas, and I think are living there now. Some fourteen years ago I had some correspondence with Mr. Paddock and since then Mr. Calvin Green, of Lewistown, Pennsylvania, met and transacted some business with Mr. Paddock. Mr. Green found him able, popular and prosperous. I like to bear testimony to the truth of the old adage, "Honesty is the best policy," and that true manhood, young or old, wins out in the game of life, whether in times of war or peace. When the news of Lee's surrender reached us we were in Alabama and whilst it was not a great surprise, it caused in-expressible depression. On May 5, 1865, our company received it's parole and in groups of half a dozen and less those who had homes to go to quietly moved off. A fellow soldier whose home was near Natchez, Mississippi, invited me to go with him. The invitation was accepted and after a few days I went to visit some families near Port Gibson, To say the outlook was discouraging but feebly expresses the situation. Recovery of Captain Houck's Body At the outbreak of the Civil War in the beginning of the sixties, J. L. Houck was in California. His twin brother, B. F. Houck, was a resident of Washington County, Maryland. Their youngest brother, E. C. Houck, was in business in Vicksburg, Mississippi. About the beginning of the second year of the war, J. L. returned to Huntingdon county, Pennsylvania, where Mother Houck and two of her daughters then lived. At about the close of the second year of the war B. F. Houck recruited Company H of the First Maryland Cavalry Regiment. Not long after he entered the service he was brevetted to the office of major. When J. H. returned from California he very naturally and very properly first of all visited the dear mother. In less than a week after his arrival at Mother's home, he was impressed with the idea that he must go on to Virginia and see his twin brother. Mother insisted on J. L. remaining with her at least a week longer as she was hearing from B. F. frequently by letter and very recently had heard favorably from him. But J. L. said he knew not why, but felt he must go at once. On this arrival at Washington, D. C., he applied promptly at the office of the proper official for the necessary permission to go on to the army to visit his brother. Imagine, if you can, his mental and emotional condition when informed that Brevet Major B. F. Houck had been killed in action two days prior to that date (on August 22, 1864, while leading a charge) and that the Federal troops had been defeated, leaving that section in possession of the Confederates. After very brief reflection, J. L. prevailed upon the officer to give him a pass as far as the lines of the Federal command. This request was reluctantly granted. At the Federal line he had much difficulty in persuading the officer in command of the pickets to allow him to pass on in the direction of the Confederates, but after a full statement of the situation he was allowed to proceed at his own risk, which he was assured was a great one. He did not go very far until he was halted by the Confederate picket. He, of course, was taken to the picket officer in command, where he was closely examined and where he rehearsed fully the cause of his being there and the great desire he had to obtain the body of his brother. He was then sent with a close guard to the general in command of that department, where he underwent another rigid examination and where a very clear and pathetic plea was made for permission to make an effort to secure his twin brother's body. But the general still declined to give the permit. Then J. H. told the general that the condition was not an ordinary one, because his youngest brother was, and had been from the start, in the Confederate army and for that reason he claimed what in other circumstances would be an unreasonable and unusual privilege. The general said the story was both interesting and pathetic and he believed true, and that he would not only grant the request, but send a non-commissioned officer and four men to assist in securing the body, but also to aid in conveying the body to the Federal lines. In a short time J. L., with the escort of Confederate soldiers, was off to the locality where the little battle was fought. By the aid of some of the citizens the grave and body were soon found, the body hastily prepared for removal and conveyed by the aid of the Confederate soldiers to the Federal line, where necessary help was given by the Federal authorities to convey the body to Washington, D. C., where further and better preparation was made and from there the twin brothers, one living and the other dead, were conveyed to the sadly bereaved mother and sisters at Shirleysburg, Penn. In due time the body of the once brave and noble Brevet Major, B. F. Houck was taken to the old Trough Creek Cemetery, not far from Cassville, and laid to await the sound, not of the war bugle, but of the call of God to those who sleep in Jesus and shall have part in the first resurrection. Some seven years later the body of the dear, faithful, sainted mother was laid beside her soldier son's body. The body of the good twin brother, J. L., who virtually risked his own life to secure his brother's body, is resting in the soil of that comparatively new but historic state of Kansas. In physical life and death the twin brothers were and are separated, but by the grace of God they were both led into such relation to Jesus Christ that they were able to claim the promise that who there we wake or sleep we shall live together with the Lord. The following sketch is taken from the "History of Colorado," volume IV, page 616, published by the S. J. Clarke Publishing Co., Chicago, and dedicated to the "Pioneers of Colorado." JESSE BARTON LOVELL To the public Jesse Barton Lovell is known as a successful mining and real estate man, conducting business in the Arapahoe Building, in Denver. To his friends he is known as a most genial and cultured gentleman, widely read, popular in club circles, and with a record for amateur hunting and fishing. Having no recollection whatever of his father, he has ever attributed much of his success to the early advice and Christian training of his mother, for he was fortunate in his early home surroundings. A native of Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania, he is a son of Amon Lovell, who was born in Washington County, Maryland, December 19, 1802, and a member of an old Maryland family, believed to have been founded in America by three brothers. His ancestral line is traced back directly to Zebulon Lovell, who came to the New World prior to the Revolutionary War and it is believed that he took part in the struggle for American independence. Another of the three brothers was the first mayor of Boston, and sympathizing with the Crown at the outbreak of the Revolutionary War, he escaped to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and died there. His son, James Lovell, born in 1737, was a graduate of Harvard University and was a member of the Continental Congress from 1776 to 1782, and held other prominent offices under the government, and his son was a prominent soldier in the Revolutionary War and died in the South. The Lovell family has figured prominently in New England and in the South from Colonial days. It was one of the members of this family that established the first Latin School in Boston. There have been two distinct characteristics in the Lovell family, a leaning toward education and a leaning toward military life. Representatives of the name have participated in all the principal wars in which the country has been involved. Mansfield Lovell, born in 1822, was general in the Civil War; graduating at West Point he served in Texas and Mexico, and in 1861 entered the Confederate service, and was commissioned major general. John Q. Lovell served in the Navy and was retired as an admiral. Mr. Lovell of this review, while too young to have entered the service during the Civil War, his older brothers, Albert Galletin and K. Allen, left college in 1862, and enlisted in the 122nd Pennsylvania Regiment; Two of his uncles, his mother's brothers, were also in the Civil War, one an officer in the Confederate service and the other Captain of the First Maryland Cavalry, and was killed n 1864 while leading his men in a charge near Charlestown, West Virginia. Zachariah Lovell, his grandfather, was born near Baltimore, Maryland, August 20, 1765, and married Ruth Plowman. Their only child was Amon Lovell. The family, shortly after his birth, removed from Maryland to Pennsylvania and there resided, giving attention to the cultivation of three hundred acres of a five-hundred-acre farm, while their son was being educated and grew into manhood. He was a man of fine physique, about six feet in height, and weighed nearly two hundred pounds. He was not a very large man but a very well proportioned man, broad- shouldered and erect, "straight as an Indian," and had great physical strength as well as being quick of action. Like all pioneer settlers of Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania, he was a trained rifle-shot. Here he married and resided to the time of his death, which occurred when he was but forty-eight years of age. His wife, whose maiden name was Wealthy Houck, was born in Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania, belonging to one of the old and prominent families of that State, and was of English lineage. Mr. and Mrs. Lovell became the parents of eight children, five sons and three daughters. Jesse Barton Lovell, the youngest of the family, was educated in the public schools of Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania, and completed his business education in Eastman's National Business College of Poughkeepsie, New York, while his literary course was completed in an academy in Huntingdon County. His early childhood was spent upon Oakdale Farm, where all the children were born. After the home farm had been sold, he started out to earn his own living, working during the summer and attending school during the winter. His first employment was on a farm, where he received his board and clothing in compensation for his labor. A neighboring farmer, seeing that he was a good, hard-working and honest boy, took him away from his first employer and paid him the sum of four dollars per month in addition to his board and clothing. In this humble way Mr. Lovell started out, but being of an ambitious nature he constantly sought opportunities for advancement, while each forward step in his career gave him a broader view of life. While at college in Poughkeepsie, New York.. he was offered a position in a publishing house in Philadelphia. This offer he accepted after his graduation. During a continuous service of fourteen years he advanced from the position of assistant bookkeeper until he became the business manager, but the service had been too exacting, resulting in nervous prostration, obliging him to seek a dry climate. Broken in health, though still optimistic, on the 15th of August, 1881, he arrived in Denver, with many letters of introduction to prominent people, including U. S. Senator Hill. He was an utter stranger here, without friends or relatives, but he possessed qualities which would win success anywhere. A modern philosopher has said, "Success does not depend upon a map, but upon a time-table"; in other words, locality does not figure in the attainment of advancement, but the wise use which one makes of every hour, and this fact Mr. Lovell early came to realize. He spent his time from August, 1881, until January, 1882, the first months after his arrival in Colorado, in riding over the plains in quest of health, which he found owing to the beneficial influence of the climate of this State. He was later requested by the White Quail Mining & Smelting Company in Summit County, Colorado, to investigate difficulties in their management, and after a short period of investigation and correction of conditions he was appointed general manager for the company, in which position he continued for six years, when the property was sold. He then took up mining on his own account and has since acquired and jointly operated some valuable mining property. He was at one time president of the Broadway Investment Company, a Denver corporation, holding a large suburban addition to Denver, but which has since been mostly sold. It was this company that built the Cherrylin car line, which became so popular and widely known because of the horse riding back on the car he had drawn to the end of the line, up-grade from Englewood, where connection was made with the Denver Tramway cars. In his real estate activities he has had large experience and the wise direction of his efforts has brought substantial results. His personal investments in Denver realty have at all times had careful attention and been wisely directed. Mr. Lovell holds membership in the Denver Athletic Club with which he has been identified for twenty-seven years, or since February, 1891. He was president of the Interlachen Golf Club, of which he is a life member, and he is a member of the board of directors of the Pennsylvania Club, of which he was formerly president. He is also a member of the First Baptist Church. In review of his career one sees Jesse B. Lovell starting out to provide for his own support, a poor boy working as a farm hand. He has made his way through his own efforts. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Notes: The above is a transcribed copy of a privately printed book, written in 1919, by my 2nd great-grand uncle, Rev. Elijah Corbin Houck, youngest brother of my Great-great grandmother, Diana Houck Clark. Although a Pennsylvanian, Elijah was an officer for the Confederacy during the Civil War, while his brother Benjamin was an officer for the Union army. The photocopy of the front of the book that I received was illegible, however handwritten notes on it are: Civil War Incidents From the Lives of Three Brothers And their Nephew Then and Now United We Stand - Divided We Fall so I must assume this is what the cover said. This then is one of the many families, with brothers literally fighting on opposite sides in the rebellion. There are several very poignant tales contained in this narrative, including the story of how one twin Houck brother risked his life to recover the body of his twin from across enemy lines, and in doing so received the cooperation of both the Federal and Confederate armies. Elijah Corbin Houck lived until 1923, dying at the age of 90. In a letter written by him, he states that he had traveled to 35 states in his lifetime. He seems to have been an adventurer at heart. His last years were spent back in his home area of Huntingdon County, PA. The last paragraphs in this book, a biography of E.C.'s nephew, Jesse Barton Lovell, although originally from another source, were reprinted in this book. The copy of this book was graciously provided to me by the grandchildren of Emerson Bruce Clark, my great grand uncle, who was the nephew of Elijah Corbin Houck, and is here presented with their permission. Lana Clark August 12, 2006