<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< STORIES FROM THE CIVIL WAR, LAWRENCE CO., OHIO >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Ironton Register, Thursday, November 18, 1886 [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." ================================================================================================================= Ironton Register, Thursday, November 25, 1886 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 Guerrillas, 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." =================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, December 2, 1886 "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." ================================================================================================================= Ironton Register, Thursday, December 9, 1886 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." =================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, December 16, 1886 "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." ===================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, December 23, 1886 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 filibustering Virginias 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." ====================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, December 30, 1886 "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 "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.] ======================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, January 6, 1887 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 New Bern 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." ================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, January 13, 1887 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 bellowed 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." ======================================================================================================================= Ironton Register, Thursday, January 20, 1887 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 paroled. Then we went to Paroled 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 Shenandoah valley and he seemed delighted to hear from his old prisoner and the effect of his own kind treatment." =========================================================================================================== John E. Stewart's Experience Ironton Register, Thursday, January 27, 1887 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." ====================================================================================================================== John Wilson's Experience Ironton Register, Thursday, February 3, 1887 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’ occurred at Winchester, July 28th, 1864. We were in line of battle 3 or 4 miles above Winchester. The rebels charged on us, and the first thing I knew my company was scattering and falling back, getting away in different directions as fast as the boys could ‘hoof’ it. They all seemed to be seeking more healthy quarters. To save myself, I started too. I had fallen back, I suppose, a couple hundred yards or such a matter, trying to get out of reach of their guns. In order to get under cover or some apple trees, I obliqued to the right. I didn’t go but a very short distance that way until they opened on us with grape and canister. I had obliqued off to the right, as I said before, to try to get under cover of the apple trees, while the dust kept flying around me powerfully. All at once I felt as if a man had struck me terrible blow across the back. I fell to the earth, but soon scrambled to my feet, glad I wasn’t killed, and kept going from there. I took along a row of apple trees and ran my best, while the apples rained like hail about my ears, as a result of the enemy’s firing. "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." ====================================================================================================================== Jim Jenkins and his Shell Ironton Register, Thursday, February 3, 1887 John Wilson's Experience Ironton Register, Thursday, February 3, 1887 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’ occurred at Winchester, July 28th, 1864. We were in line of battle 3 or 4 miles above Winchester. The rebels charged on us, and the first thing I knew my company was scattering and falling back, getting away in different directions as fast as the boys could ‘hoof’ it. They all seemed to be seeking more healthy quarters. To save myself, I started too. I had fallen back, I suppose, a couple hundred yards or such a matter, trying to get out of reach of their guns. In order to get under cover or some apple trees, I obliqued to the right. I didn’t go but a very short distance that way until they opened on us with grape and canister. I had obliqued off to the right, as I said before, to try to get under cover of the apple trees, while the dust kept flying around me powerfully. All at once I felt as if a man had struck me terrible blow across the back. I fell to the earth, but soon scrambled to my feet, glad I wasn’t killed, and kept going from there. I took along a row of apple trees and ran my best, while the apples rained like hail about my ears, as a result of the enemy’s firing. "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." =========================================================================================================== Sam Van Horn's Experience "Say, Sam," said we to Samuel Vanhorn. "Haven't you a 'Narrow Escape' for the Register." "I have had several, and, by the way, I think the 'Narrow Escapes' in the Register are mighty interesting reading," replied Sam. "Give me your best one." "I might miss the best, but this one I will relate for you, strikes right now." "What part of the service were you in?" "I belonged to famous Battery B. 1st West Va. Light Artillery." "My 'Narrow Escape' happened on the 20th of July. 1864, but to better describe it I must go back one day. On July 19th, while on the march up Loudon valley the lumber chest to my gun exploded, killing two or three men and the two wheel horses, and completely destroying the carriage of the gun. After this, the remaining four horses were attached to the caisson of the same gun, making ten horses to the caisson, of which I was placed in charge. The next morning, we attempted to cross the Shenandoah River at a ford, coming out of Ashby's gap. The Calvary went in the advance. While they were in the river watering their horses, the artillery and infantry being on the bank behind, quite a number of Johnnies on the other side of the river who had been concealed now stepped out on the bank and began firing on them. This caused a general stampede among the cavalry, infantry and artillery. The whole command temporarily demoralized by the unexpected attack, broke now into confusion. Capt. Jno. V. Keepers, our captain, who at that time seemed to be the only coolheaded man present, undertook to get some of his guns into position on a narrow ridge dividing a ravine from the river. I undertook to follow him with my ten horse caisson. The captain succeeded in getting his guns on top of the ridge and I got part way up with my caisson, on to a small knoll where there was a little frame dwelling, house, but could get no further. Seeing that the caisson was of no benefit there, and it being seemingly almost impossible to get it down again, I halted the boys and, riding up to where Capt. Keepers was, asked him what I should do with that caisson. He replied: "Do not bring it up here for we haven't enough room to get the guns into position." I told him I did not believe I could turn around where I was and go back down. He answered in a quick, sharp tone: "If you can't get it back up into the gap roll the d--n thing into the river." I went back down and examined the ground again. I found a narrow path which looked like it might have been a path to a spring from the house before mentioned. Maybe in ante-bellum days it had been trodden by the bare-feet of some pretty Virginia lass. However I didn't think about that then. No time for romantic imaginings. I told the boys to pull around the house by that little path and they could get out of range of the enemy's fire behind the ridge. This left me on the side of the building next to the enemy with no chance to shun fire until the boys moved the caisson out of the way. I knew I stood in the way of where Johnnie wanted to shoot, where they not only wanted to shoot, but did shoot without even telling me to get out of the way. About 15 or 20 of the stepped out on the bank on the opposite side of the river and, taking deliberate aim, fired at me. My position was not very inviting, to say the least. I think every shot they fired struck that building around my horse and myself. I shall never forget my feelings at this time. I could distinctly hear the balls strike the building within 4 or 5 feet of where I was sitting on my horse. I felt very lonesome. I took my feet out of the stirrups so I would have a clear fall, because I thought it was impossible for them to miss me as they were in close range---not over 200 yards away. It has always been a mystery to me why they didn't hit me. So there you have my 'Narrow Escape.' The boys managed to get the caisson down behind the ridge out of the way, and afterward up into the gaps where we took position. Captain Keepers, finding he could not get in position, where he was, soon followed, and took up a position in line with my caisson, where we continued an artillery duel with a rebel battery on the opposite side of the river the balance of the day." ============================================================================================================= Thursday, February 24, 1887 Ironton Register Jas. DeFoe's Experience "Mr. DeFoe, the brave boys all over the country are giving us their 'Narrow Escapes,' making quite fascinating reading for the Register. We have let you escape long enough. You are my prisoner now. So please consider yourself under guard for about an hour, while you narrate one of your narrowest escapes. Then, if I can capture some one else, I will exchange you for him." I don't know whether I have any very 'Narrow Escapes,' but as it is a soldiers duty to obey, I will give you one. I thought at the time that I was in a very 'narrow' place, and as I got out I suppose you can call it a 'Narrow Escape.' I was a member of Co. H. 5th W.Va. Vol. under Capt. Enochs. We were positioned at Gauley Ridge. Ten or twelve of us started on a general scouting expedition to Summerville, about thirty miles or so from our camp. We got to Summerville all right, and coming back ten or fifteen miles to the right of the place, we came across some more of our boys who were also scouting. It was shortly after meeting these boys that the fun began. These boys hadn't had their breakfast when we met them. We had, and were looking out for dinner. Sergeant Fuller who now runs a saw mill in Ky. (if you run across him attack him for a 'Narrow Escape'; he'll give you some that will make your eye-balls tingle). Fuller told me to go to the house of a rebel for our dinner and he would follow us with more men. While he was gathering up his men, a lady told him the rebels intended to cut us off at this house. We were at the house waiting for our dinner or we thought. I was talking to a girl who was making soap in the yard. The other boys were seated close by. The first intimation we had of rebels was a loud cry of 'Surrender'! We looked to see who wanted us but could see no one. Close by was a strip of weeds. We heard the cry 'Surrender!' three times before we saw anyone. If they hadn't hollored so soon, they would have captured all of us, but as it was it put us on our guard. Just then about forty rebels came out of the weeds, dressed in our uniform. There was a company of home guards in that section, and at first we thought they were the ones, but a second look told us if we wanted to save our 'bacon'.... Reporter, "What Bacon?" "Don't you know what bacon is?" If you had been there you would have known. I didn't have time just to sit and talk anymore to the soap girl, but left very abruptly. We didn't even leave her a lock of our hair. She may have found several locks afterward, I never went back to see. Well, I said we left rather unceremoniously. Close by the house was a meadow, and we had to cross that with our 'bacon.' It was about three hundred yards across. I thought it was about three thousand. They were shooting uncomfortably close to us. Their bullets were tearing up the ground all around us but they didn't hit us. Just as I was at the fence getting over....I didn't stop to tear it down... a bullet struck the top rail. I used to jump as a boy, and was considered an expert , but my longest jump when a boy sank into insignificance when compared with that leap from the fence. I hadn't time to measure it. Just outside the meadow was the timber. After reaching that, one of the boys Jno. Duncan, lay down behind a log. I stopped and asked him if he was hurt. he said: 'No; don't run any further or you'll get shot.' I said: 'Get out of that and come on if you stop there, they'll get you for sure.' I ran on and left him. They got him and three others, Tom Osborn, Jack De Bard and Sam Dean. All died in prison. The rest of us reached camp next day." "Thanks, you are now released on parole, but now mind you, don't get into any more 'scrapes.'" "I won't." " Good Day." ======================================================================================================================== Thursday, March 3, 1887 Ironton Register Andrew Pancake's Close Call "So you were in the Army, Andrew Pancake?" asked the Register reporter. "Yes; I enlisted in the 45th Ky, Calvary in November 1863. I was only 16 years old then. I guess I got my share of it anyhow. I remember a scout in 1864, on the headwaters of Licking River. It was a bitter and rough experience. We swam streams, and galloped our horses for days. One day we got into a valley, near an old log barn and were drawn up in line. Our Captain then told us, we were surrounded by the rebels, with no chance to get out, but if we would abandon our horses and take to the brush, we might escape. The Captain was pretty well scared; he could hardly talk. Then our friend Jack Matney, stepped to the front, told the Captain to get to the rear and to onsider himself under arrest. Then Jack ordered the company to follow him single file, which they did in full lope. We went through a sugar camp, across a ditch, into an open field, where we met a body of rebs, which we charged and routed, capturing three horses, a sack of home-made sugar and a box of jewelry. We divided the spoils, Jack getting the best horse for his share, and he earned it too." "Then we started for camp, 90 miles distant. There we found all the troops gone except for a few sick. Then about 20 of us were ordered on picket. Beyond the picket post, myself and four others were posted as sentries. We had hardly got there when the advance of Morgan's men, 45 of them, were right on us and fired. They killed two of my comrades, Bailey and Miller, and captured a third, Conley. I made a break through them for an opening in the fence. The rebs shot at me as I ran, a ball cutting the seam between the first and second buttons of my blouse, which was buttoned. I was called on to 'surrender'; and at the same time they shot, the ball taking effect in the left shoulder. But I tried to still get away, when a reb dashed up and struck me on the left side of the head with his carbine knocking me from my horse. I fell on the pike, and was so badly hurt I could not move. The fellow that hit me sprang from his horse, and asking 'have you any money?' began feeling for my pocket. Just as he got his fingers in my pocket, someone on the inside of the stone fence fired at him, and the ball cut so close that he jumped up, sprang on his horse and lit out. Right there was also a "Narrow Escape," for I had $65 in that pocket." "While I lay there the rebs re-formed again, and it happened they drew up right where I lay, only a few feet from me. Then they were ordered to dismount. Then four or five of them came to where I lay, took hold of me and carried me to the fence, by the side of which they laid me. They put a rock under my head for a pillow. One of them gave me a sup of brandy out of his canteen. Another laid his blanket over me; and another took my canteen, filed it with water and set it by the side of my head; but I was so weak that I could not handle it. One of them said, "If you had known that you were going to be killed, you wouldn't have come out to fight us, would you?" Then they left and the stars were my only company that long, suffering night. The next morning, as I lay there, two men about seventy-five yards below me, shot in the stone fence, just above my head. The balls didn't miss me by three inches. Then I tried to take my head off the rock, but I could not." "About 10 o'clock, that morning, two colored men came and asked me if I didn't want to be moved to the house, a short distance below, and assenting, they laid me in the rebel blanket and carried me to the porch of the house. Inside were two men badly shot, and they were moaning woefully. All this occurred many years ago, when I was but 16 years old, but the recollections of it is as vivid as of it happened yesterday. I got well, but you don't think it was a close shave?" "Indeed I do," said the reporter, "two narrow escapes....one of treasure and the other of life. I am glad it is both, especially the latter. I thank you for the exciting narrative. Good Day." ================================================================================================================ Ironton Register, March 17, 1887 How C C. Bowen Maneuvered His Forces "You were in the 6th Ohio--the old Guthrie Gray regiment, Mr. Bowen?" "Yes; I was one of the high privates of that illustrious band." "You are the very man for a 'Narrow Escape'--and I am ready to take you in. So, no preliminaries, but begin," commanded the reporter. "Well, the most thrilling one to me, was in the second day's battle of Chickamauga, Sunday Sept. 10th , 1863. Our regiment was in position just east of the Rossville pike, near where we began the battle, the morning before, on the right of Baird's division, in the edge of an open field. About 8 o'clock a. m., we were ordered to advance across this field to support Battery H, 4th Art., Lieut. Cushing commanding. Leaving our hastily constructed, temporary breastworks, made of fence rails and old logs, to be occupied by the 2nd Ky. Inf. (here Ed Owens was shot soon afterward) while the Battery M, 4th Art. Lieut. Russell commanding, had position just to the left of said breastworks, (Battery M was composed of four twelve lb. Napoleons and two 24 lb. howitzers), we advanced across the field, and were ordered to lie down just to the right of Cushing's Battery. Lieut. Cushing was ordered to throw a few shells down into the woods, to "feel for the enemy", who were supposed to be trying to flank us on our left, to cut us off from communication with Chattenooga by the Rossville pike. Battery H had thrown but few shells until the enemy replied, informing us that their "flag was still there." One of their shells, flying over us passed on back and exploded near Battery M, just as Col. Barnett, chief of Art. on Rosecrans staff, rode up. He, seeing the "puff" of Cushing's gun, at the same time mistook us for the enemy, and ordered Russell to open on us, which he did, after protesting that it was our Battery. But Barnett, like many other officers, knew better and repeated the order. Lieut. Russell being educated at West Point, that obedience was the first duty of a soldier, let loose his dogs of war, first with shell and then with grape and canister. He fired two or three rounds before it began to dawn on the mind of Cushing that Russell really intended to hurt us, and as soon as he fully comprehended the situation, he limbered to the left flank, out into the Rossville pike, and came around to Battery M where he vehemently pronounced a soldier's benediction on Lieut. Russell, who had "simply obeyed orders." "But in the interim, did you ask where was the 6th O. V. I.? Well, we were hugging "old mother earth" as closely as possible, just spreading ourselves "as the manner of the flying squirrel is." I tell only my own experience as I took no pains to watch the other boys. Now, did you every lay under the fire of a Battery, showering grape and canister on you? If so, I cannot edify you. If not, you will have to draw largely upon your imagination to comprehend the fearful destruction they are capable of dealing out to anything animate that is within range and unprotected. A can of canister for 24 lb. howitzer is about the size of a long gallon tin bucket, and at three hundred yards range, seems like some Sampson slushing a common wooden bucket full of bullets into a brush pile or thicket. Of course, they held us down until Cushing relieved us, by ordering Russell to cease firing. We now took a long breath and swallowed our heart back to its normal position and rose to our feet, when lo, we beheld in our immediate front, about sixty yards away, a rebel line of battle, coming directly for us at a "trail arms." What shall we do to be saved? At this critical junction, every man was his won tactician and had no time to trade jack knives. As for me, I took in the whole situation at a glance and formed my plans, subject however to future developments. My first plan was to fire one deliberate shot and then surrender; but just as I drew up to draw a bead on the nearest skirmisher, a ball from the rear struck about six inches above my head, making the bark fly, whereupon I looked back, when I saw that our regiment was falling back, firing as they fell back and were then close to Battery M, which was getting ready to turn loose on the rebs, as soon as they might appear in view. Seeing I was sandwiched, I changed my plans and concluded to try and escape capture; so I struck out to my right flank to get out of range of the Battery, and was looking over my right shoulder to see when I would be out of range of the Battery; which as soon as passed, I cast my eyes to the front, when to my amazement, I was almost in the embrace of a battle line of the enemy, who had come through a gap in our line and had wheeled to the right and were coming for Battery M. I was within thirty yards of their line of battle, and fully expected them to call me to halt or shoot me, or that Battery M would open on them with canister and of course, annihilate me. But the Battery being flanked, limbered to the rear, and so did I, with an accelerated speed born of the hope of liberty. And if anybody passed me in the next hundred yards, he must have been borne on the wings of the wind. The rebels didn't seem to care for me, for if they had and had signified their desire by a command to halt, I should have no doubt obeyed instanter , otherwise I pressed toward the prize of my high calling, and I am today a monument of their amazing mercy. If the rebels had shot me through the heart at that time, the ball would have hit me just below the larynx. But I came to my own, and they received me as one who had escaped so as by fire." ======================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, March 25, 1887 "Ah, there, Mr. C. H. D. Smitley, the Register wants one from you." "Wants one, what?" "Why, a Narrow Escape--you have had several, so trot out one, without any preliminaries." "Shortly after the Cross-Key's fight in 1865 , I started out from Winchester about three o'clock in the morning, in company with a man by the name of John Dove, who had been employed in the army as guide. Could not say if he was an enlisted man or not. Our orders were to get all the information we could about the enemy in the vicinity of Staunton, and ascertain the whereabouts of Stonewall Jackson. Mr. Dove was dressed in a suit of gray home-made jeans and expected to pass for a refugee from Taylor Co. W. Va. in my employ as Quartermaster. I was dressed in a very handsome Confederate uniform, with insignia of Captain. We were mounted on a pair of magnificent Black Hawk Morgan horses, and proceeded up the valley on a back road which ran along the foot of the mountain on the west side of the valley, some 20 miles; then started up the mountain on a road crossing in a south-west direction to Moorsfield." "Arriving at the top of the mountain we turned south on a road leading through a beautiful little cove, six or eight miles long in the direction of Brock's-Gap. After leaving Moorsfield four or five miles in our rear, we came to a large log-house that looked inviting, for dinner, and horsefeed. Riding up in front of the house, several women and children made their appearance manifesting astonishment and delight at the fine appearance of our horses, which, notwithstanding they had carried us for nine hours, without being fed, were in excellent condition, and with arched necks and distended nostrils were impatiently pawing the ground. We inquired the whereabouts of Capt. Wilson, who, although we were not anxious to meet, (as he bore the name of being an exceedingly blood-thirsty hater of the Yankee,) we expected to meet somewhere on the route to Brock's-Gap; was informed that he might be expected to pass over that road any hour and after a few interrogatives on the part of the ladies as to what command we belonged to, were invited to dinner and to feed our own horses as the man of the house was in the Confederate army. We fed our horses in a large trough made from a hollow tree, 75 or 100 yds. from the house; entered the house, took seats and from the savory smell proceeding from the kitchen, anticipated momentarily an invitation to a good dinner. I was just in the act of picking up a Richmond paper, when a man sprang through the open door, with a double-barrel shotgun in his hand, followed by over half dozen bushwhackers armed with rifles and shotguns. I was seated within a few few feet of the door which they entered, leaning against the wall with my right side to the door. On my left side, Mr. Dove was sitting with a small stand table between us. The leader about-faced placed the muzzle of the gun against my breast drew back both hammers, and looking me right in the eyes, began the most wild, wicked, tirade of abuse to which I ever listened, cursing me for an abolition Yankee S.-B. and spy, threatening to blow my heart out--gave me two minutes to say my prayers. By the time he had fixed the limit for my prayers, he appeared out of breath, and as I had kept my eyes fixed on his from the start with a smile on my face and without moving a muscle,--he dropped his eyes. I felt confident from the start but knew when he dropped his eyes that I was the master of the situation. Breaking out in a laugh, I very innocently inquired if he shut his eyes to shoot. The women began screaming and begging him not to shoot. I commanded silence in a voice that might have been heard half a mile. Looking around at my comrade, I saw that he was white as the dead, and with a little laugh I said "Wilson, take your gun down. You have frightened him." Removing his gun, he inquired with an oath, "how I knew his name was Wilson." I answered, "We met an old man Hannon, back here on his way to Woodstock, with some applejack and he told us if we met Wilson on the road, the d---n fool would shoot me if he saw the U.S. on my horse. I think you are the man. What lunatic asylum did you escape from?" In tempting me with an oath, he asked "What I was doing with a Yankee hoss?" I answered, "You lunatic, what would you do with him?" But as I am getting my story too long, I can only say that I finally convinced him that I was a true Southern man, Capt. and in the Q. M. Department; was looking around for a few extra fine horses for staff use, in the Stonewall Brigade, and that he had placed himself in jeopardy by threatening the life of an officer; ate dinner with the whole party; and Wilson and one of the men went with us, several miles to put us on a short cut to Brock's-Gap, telling us before parting of a number of Union men who had horses hid out in the mountains. Well, I was fortunate in getting the desired information, but Dove was badly wounded and made prisoner by Capt. Elsie's Dixie-boys (bushwhackers) and I, after make three more exceeding narrow escapes reached our lines on foot and reported by telegraph from Petersburg, Hardy Co., W. Va. Never saw Wilson afterward; heard he was forced by the draft to volunteer in Mosby's command. "Why that was a novel experience indeed. You must tell about Dove's death and how you finally escaped, at another time." "All right." ======================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, March 31, 1887 Two Narrow Escapes in One "Mr. Hinds, if you don't give me a 'Narrow Escape' for the Register, you'll have one on the spot, for my orders from the Editor are to let no guilty man escape." "Well, if that's orders, I am ready to report for duty, as I always want to be an obedient soldier. I didn't have any very 'Narrow Escapes', but I'll give you two." "Perhaps if you put them together they will be narrow enough." "But don't you want your shoe half-soled? I'm not very busy today and can work while I talk." "I was a member of the 7th W. Va. Infantry, under Col. Snider. It was at the battle of the Wilderness. We were at Stevensburg, in Winter quarters, and were called to carry ammunition to the front. Twelve of us volunteered. I had about 500 rounds in a coffee sack. A lieutenant came to pilot us. He said he belonged to Hancock's staff, but I doubted it, and subsequent events confirmed my doubts. He directed us to the left of the Second corps, but we went to the Fifth. Here we met the skirmish line. One of the skirmishers asked where we were going. I told him, we were going to the front with ammunition. "Why you are at the front, man," said he. Our (?) Lieut. was about fifty yards in the rear. He came up and directed us to go ahead. "We are at the front now," said I. "Do as I bid you," he answered. I said, "I can go as far as you can." We went about two hundred yards, and ran right into the rebel pickets. They could have captured all of us if they hadn't been in such a hurry to halt us. One of them poked his head out from behind a tree and shouted "Halt!" John McCain and I were in advance. I said, "We're in for it, John." Our Lieut. was still in the rear and ran toward camp. They fired three or four volleys at us. At first, we were not more ten steps from them. Some of the boys took their ammunition back; some didn't. I belonged to the latter squad, but I took myself back. I was not so anxious about myself but I didn't want our Lieut. hurt. "The second escape was after the battle of Antietam. I was detailed to carry dispatches for Gen. Kimball, 1st brigade Sommer's corps. I was having some leisure time and making the most of it. Several families lived on the Blue Ridge near Harper's Ferry. I had made the acquaintance of an interesting young lady on the Ridge and was a frequent visitor at her house." "What did your wife say to that?" "Oh I was a young man; the married men didn't hunt up sweethearts. After this I went to Fredericksburg and Gettysburg. After coming back, I went to renew my acquaintance; I got about half way up the ridge and within two hundred yards of the house when I saw some persons leaving. I came up and saw the young lady standing at the gate. She said, "Little Yank, you are in for it now." "How so?" "You are inside the rebel picket lines." I talked with her some time and then told her I would cross the mountain. I crawled along and all at once I heard the pickets talking. I slipped back to the house and told her I couldn't get through and asked her what to do. She said she would hide me till morning. Her parents did not know I was there. She hid me in a back room. I was tired and slept soundly till next morn. Then I crossed the mountain within speaking distance of the rebels. I saw one of them shoot one of our teamsters who was out after his mules. I got into camp just as they were preparing to leave." "What's the charge?" "For 'escapes' and shoe both, a quarter. For shoe, only twenty-five cents." "Here is a quarter as I have both." "Good day." ================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, April 07, 1887 Who Killed General Johnson? In reply to a request for a Narrow Escape, Peter Kingry, formerly of Co. G.___ Ohio Volunteer Infantry said: "On the 6th of April 1862, we were encamped near Shiloh Church at Pittsburgh Landing. Just at day break, we were called from our slumber by the long roll. The rebs were already formed in the timber to the front of us when we formed our line in the field. The rebs advanced steadily on our front. They were firing on us terribly. Our Colonel gave his only command, "Every man take care of himself" and the regiment ran according to orders. I ran a short distance, when Lieut. Cutter of my Company told me to stay and shoot with him. I stayed and fired two shots, while he fired eight with his revolver. Then the rebs were within twenty-five steps of us and we left. I ran about thirty yards across a little ____, when I dropped in with an Illinois regiment and fired one volley, when orders were given to retreat. We retreated about one hundred yards and formed again; were ordered to lay down. I laid down flat on my face; had been there a short time, when a musket ball struck the ground right under my face. Golly, but I was scared. I raised up and got behind a small tree and had four bullet holes shot in my blouse. Then the regiment was ordered up and I formed with them and we fired three volleys and were then ordered to retreat again and did not make another stand for about a quarter of a mile toward the Landing. We were then about a quarter of a mile from the rebs. Here we fired about fifteen rounds and the enemy got so close to us that we had to retreat again. The bullets were flying so thick that they sounded like a swarm of bees just out of the hive. Comrades were falling killed and wounded on all sides but I remained unhurt. We retreated again across a field toward the river. We formed again there in about one half mile of the river. It was then about 1 o'clock in the afternoon and , as I was called out before breakfast, and was firing and retreating all day, I had nothing to eat till night. We formed this time in the timber. Myself and three others were separated a short distance from the regiment. There was an open field between us and the rebs in the woods opposite. We saw a horse-man ride in the edge of the field opposite us. We fired all four of us at once, and Albert Sidney Johnson fell. We did not know who killed him but it was one of us. The rebels tried to flank us on both sides, but we repulsed them both times and held our ground till night." "Well you had several Narrow Escapes altogether." "Yes, and that was just in one day." ================================================================================================================= Ironton Register, Thursday, April 14, 1887 Army Teamster's Awful Perils "D id you meet with a narrow escape?" we asked of Uncle John Shafer, as a lot of us were seated around a bright fire after a good sermon, and later, a good dinner. "Well, I did that, and no mistake. No, it was hardly an escape, either; I didn't fully escape; but as I got away alive I guess you would call it an 'escape.' I refer to the time the mule kicked me. A mule is the most dangerous piece of ordinance which the government employed. It is always loaded. And another thing; they are liable to go off at any time, and are apt to do terrible ________. The only time that I ever heard of a mule taking a contract too big for him, was when he moved forward -- not backward. A mule is like a skunk; it always advances backward. Well, this mule -- not the one I escaped from -- was grazing in close proximity to a lot of beehives. One of the little bees went out to invite him to get out of their yard. The mule paid no attention but kept on gathering flowers. The bee finally got down upon him in order to persuade him to go away. This caused Sir mule to pause in the midst of his meal, and consider what to do. He concluded that he would not simply submit to such insolence on the part of a fly. Accordingly, he backed up to the hive, folded his wings back on his back and opened out. The hive went end over end. This seemed to excite the inmates -- they came out en masse to take a part in the picnic. For awhile the unequal contest went on, but soon the mule began a retreat. "This is not my ____. The way this occurred was this: I was detailed to drive a wagon. Jack Warren was our wagon master. Sam Lemly, a fellow teamster, lost a mule. This left the wagon-master precisely in reverse circumstances to the R.R. conductor who reported 'one bureau short and one jackass left over'. Our boss was one mule short. In order to get out of the scrape, it was proposed to steal another one. That plan was adopted. A young and very wild mule was brought in; but who was to work him? Finally some one proposed 'to give it to Shafer; he would work it.' The boys said, 'All right, John, you take that mule and work it.' I didn't want to refuse and besides I had a very gentle mule to work it by. Barney Boalmost offered to help me out of it: said he would hang it. Had helped one or two teamsters out of a scrape that way, and he knew it would work. Of course. ======================================================================================================================= Ironton Register, Thursday, April 13, 1887 THE AWFUL BATTERY "Well, Henderson Griffith, you remember all about the army of the Potomac, the siege of Richmond and all about the marching and counter-marching of 64 and 65, and the narrow escapes incident to those times?" "By the way, you remember the escape we had charging the masked battery on Hatcher's Run to the left of Petersburg, in the Spring of 65 about one month before the surrender." Yes sir, I remember that occurrence and will remember it as long as life shall last, and every time that memory'' panorama re_____ the event, I am seized with an almost indescribable nightmare. In the Spring of '65, in the month of February, after a ______ campaign of the Summer of '64, we had been in camp perhaps a month or more, when one morning about 3 o'clock, the long roll was sounded and orderlies were heard running to and fro, giving orders to pack up and fall in, that the army had to be in readiness to march in one hour, and that hour was one of hurry and bustle came and every man took his place in the line of march, which was by the left flank through almost impenetrable darkness, with a dumb silence, save the clank of arms and the heavy tread of marching columns. Just how far we had marched was only a matter of conjecture, but at length we halted and were ordered to rest in place. Then again, just in the gray of daylight, the order came to fall in, which was instantly obeyed and the column was faced to the front and "forward march" came the order, clear and distant through the silence of the pine woods. When objects began to be a little more distinct we saw, or thought we saw, a line of works, of what character or strength we could give no idea; but on coming a little closer, sure enough, there was a line of works with embrasures and horrible murderous cannon presenting themselves in plain view. But strange to say, as yet, not a gun was fired or a sign of an enemy and the thought occurred to us that they were reserving their fire until, as we had read in history, they could see the whites of our eyes, and then began to come the cautionary command of the officers, "Brave Boys," "Keep cool boys," and many others calculated to insure confidence and courage. Still nearer and nearer those fearful cannon, and as we surmised they were backed by musketry and brawny arms until silence and suspense became almost unbearable, when, Oh horror! If those cannon were not pine logs sawed off and the ends painted black, you may chop me up for hogshead cheese. I have had several narrow escapes but that was the funniest one. IRONTON'S NARROW ESCAPE While on the ludicrous side of the war, we will here tell a little home guard experience as related by Leo Ebert. It was during the Morgan Raid and Ironton was all astir, expecting the "bold rider" would "take the town" every minute. All approaches were guarded, and whole nights were spent in watching for a raid. The Commanding General, Dr. Cory, had ordered Capt. Alex Brawley's artillery, one brass piece, to the forks of the road near Ensinger's, and detailed Capt. Allen Brattin's infantry to take its position there and support the artillery. They went out in the shades of evening, took up the floor of the bridge so as to avert a sudden ____ and there watched for the coming of Morgan. By day break, the boys got tired and Capt. Brattin's company retired to town to get breakfast. Capt. Brawley remonstrated as that would be just he time for Morgan to make his dash on the town, but as the artillery was left without support, it had to retire from the bloody field too. When they came to town they were met by Capt. Cory who demanded of them, "why this retreat at the very critical moment; why give up the field and leave the town to the mercy of Morgan?" Capt. Brattin said the boys must have some breakfast. But Capt. Cory ordered them right back to their posts to watch that gate to the town and repel Morgan at all hazards. They went back, and the "narrow escape" of Ironton passed by, the narrowness of which may be understood when it is shown that Morgan's raiders were at that moment pinging through Meigs county. ============================================================================================================ Ironton Register, Thursday, April 13, 1887 IRONTON'S NARROW ESCAPE While on the ludicrous side of the war, we will here tell a little home guard experience as related by Leo Ebert. It was during the Morgan Raid and Ironton was all astir, expecting the "bold rider" would "take the town" every minute. All approaches were guarded, and whole nights were spent in watching for a raid. The Commanding General, Dr. Cory, had ordered Capt. Alex Brawley's artillery, one brass piece, to the forks of the road near Ensinger's, and detailed Capt. Allen Brattin's infantry to take its position there and support the artillery. They went out in the shades of evening, took up the floor of the bridge so as to avert a sudden ____ and there watched for the coming of Morgan. By day break, the boys got tired and Capt. Brattin's company retired to town to get breakfast. Capt. Brawley remonstrated as that would be just he time for Morgan to make his dash on the town, but as the artillery was left without support, it had to retire from the bloody field too. When they came to town they were met by Capt. Cory who demanded of them, "why this retreat at the very critical moment; why give up the field and leave the town to the mercy of Morgan?" Capt. Brattin said the boys must have some breakfast. But Capt. Cory ordered them right back to their posts to watch that gate to the town and repel Morgan at all hazards. They went back, and the "narrow escape" of Ironton passed by, the narrowness of which may be understood when it is shown that Morgan's raiders were at that moment pinging through Meigs county. ================================================================================================================= NARROW ESCAPES "Andy, can't you give me that 'Narrow Escape' today," said the reporter to Andy Boggs, one of the brave boys who helped put down the Southern Confederacy. "Which one-the one at the battle of Stone River?" "Yes, that's the one." "It was in 1862 between Christmas and New Years. I'll tell you in my own way how it was. It was on Wednesday--Johnson's division broke on our right. We were on the skirmish line, when we were ordered to charge on the rebels. The situation was a warm one. We were ordered to fix bayonets, and in turning our bayonets, Arfax Thornton pushed me out from behind a tree where I had been sheltering from the enemy's fire. By this time the rebels were right on us. Just as I was pushed out a ball cut the top of my shoulder, cutting my blouse and leaving a mark where it burnt me. This stunned me somewhat, and caused me to drop my gun. The rebels ran right over me then, and we were all captured. Hundreds of our men were taken. They ordered me to take off my cartridge box saying I would have no further use for it in this war. They thought I was badly wounded because I was covered with blood and did not bother me much. Appearances are deceiving. The blood was Tom Town's who had been shot in front of me. After this, they commenced to pick up the wounded and I went over to where Henry Cauley was lying, making an awful fuss. I asked him where he was hit. He had been shot through the hip with a grape shot and was in terrible agony and soon died. Seeing Brice Bramfield, I asked him to hide with me in a pile of rocks close by, as I saw the rebels were picking up the stragglers and hurrying them back to the rear, but he refused saying he wasn't going to get in there and be killed by a cannon ball. I concluded I would try it and await events anyway. So I crawled in between the rocks and laid there about three hours unti our men charged back and took possession--not our regiment though. I was terribly uneasy for fear the Johnies would find me, but luckily they didn't. When our men came up I crawled out. The boys did not at first believe I was a Union soldier. They thought that I was seriously wounded, too, and a surgeon present asked me where I was wounded and what regiment I belonged to. I told him I was not hurt much and that I belonged to the 18th Ohio. He said that a soldier who would risk staying in that pile of rocks rather than be made a prisoner, deserved a pass and an officer standing by offered me a ____ to the hospital at Nashville which I took. I told him I wanted a pass to my regiment which he also gave me, and I started to find the boys. I went back and found our boys on the left where Tom Towns had been killed on the morning before. I was glad to see them once more. When I got to the regiment I found Uncle Jim Lyons baking flapjacks for the company, and going up the hill from him to where the boys were, I picked up an old-fashioned brass banded shotgun, with a very short barrel, one that had belonged to some rebel. The boys were ready to go in the fight and I went in with them using the old gun until one of the boys gave me a Springfield rifle. The change was very agreeable as the rebel gun kicked like a mule. We fought here a couple of hours and then fell back. "Now Andy, tell us about Jack Culbertson shooting that rebel." "That was on the Manchester & McMinneville R.R. and was a somewhat exciting affair. We were guarding a rail road bridge and had built us a little block house there; in fact, we did not have it quite done when the rebels came in on us. I was going out after a yoke of cattle and saw the rebels coming. They were pretty close and we had not much time to spare. I hallooed to our Captain--Capt. C.C. Ross--and told him the rebels were coming. We had before this been making false alarms for fun and the Captain thinking I was not in earnest replied, 'Now don't lie, Andy.' I then told him to come ahead and see for himself. He came up and saw it was the rebels. It was a race now for the block house. Some of the boys got their guns and some didn't. The thing to do was to get to shelter. In other words it was block house or capture. It was nip and tuck which would reach it first, us or the rebels, and we luckily reached the side the door was on as they came up on the other side. We went in the house and the Captain stood watching the door and shot the rebel Captain as he attempted to enter, the ball going squarely through his head entering at his mustache and coming out at the back of his head. We had to leave part of our guns out where we were when the rebels surprised us, so part of us were unarmed but those who had their guns now commenced peppering it to the rebels outside. Jack ___________ =================================================================================================================== RONTON REGISTER, Thursday, May 12, 1887 WOUNDED TWICE AND A PRISONER M ajor Jerry Davidson was badly wounded on the 24th of July, 1894, near Winchester, Va. The circumstances surrounding his misfortune were of a character that, notwithstanding his wounds, made his experience a very "narrow escape." So the REGISTER tackled the Major for a rehearsal of the little affair which was modestly and hesitatingly given. The rebels had retreated down the valley and the union forces had concentrated at Winchester, for the purpose of following them up. But this "following them up" didn't last very long, nor continue very far. Our advance had got no further than Kernstown when they found the rebels coming up in force, and in a style that meant business. Our troops retreated as the rebs steadily advanced, and it was during this retreat that Major Davidson met with his little accident, which we will tell substantially in his own words. "Our regiment, the 2nd Va. Cavalry, was on the left of the pike and about a mile and a half from Winchester. We were moving in column, my company at the head, when Col. Powell ordered us to charge a battery that had taken position on the other side of a field. In coming to the front, the Regiment galloped to my left and we swept toward the battery; but for some reason the left kept going further to the left, and as I tried to keep with them we got from the front of the battery, and soon found ourselves charging infantry in the skirts of the woods. The country is rolling, with many little ups and downs, but on we went, and when we were within a hundred feet of the enemy's line, there fire was pretty hot. Here it was that Capt. Barber, Ed. Thomas, Press Lunceford and others were killed, or mortally wounded. Here too was where I caught a ball. It struck my breast bone, went through, ranging to the side, and came out beneath the right shoulder. At the same time, my horse was shot and fell, and down I went with him. I immediately got on my feet again, for though I was bleeding freely, from the mouth, I determined to try to escape. But just as I stood up, a musket ball struck my left thigh and down I went again, and then I thought I was done for. Some of the rebs. Came to where I was, took a look and went away. There was a log cabin about 50 feet distant, and I concluded to go to it. So I managed to get up and staggered toward it. When I got to the door, a couple reb. Soldiers helped me up the steps, and when I got in the room, I laid down on the floor. Great gulps of blood came into my mouth and I came near being choked to death. A reb. Surgeon came in, looked at my wounds, and went away without doing anything for me. Some rebs. Took my boots, my hat, my haversack, and my pocket book that contained about $60 in money. Some of them talked a little rough. I had $40 in my watch pocket that they didn't happen to find. Well, I stayed there in that cabin about two weeks. For the first eight days I didn't eat a bite. The old lady who lived there treated me well. I gave her twenty of the forty dollars, and with the other twenty, sent to Winchester for a doctor. He came, took a look at me, said I was doing well enough, didn't give me a thing, but got the $20 all the same. The reb. Army had passed on down the valley and into Maryland. What I feared was their return, when they might take me in, and off to the South. So an old colored man told me he would take me to where another fellow was hiding to keep from being drafted into the rebel army. That was a mile or so distant in a heavy pine thicket. So I went there and spent ten days or so with that man. The old darkey brought me something to eat, and we slept under the blue canopy of heaven, but it was comfortable enough for it was mid-summer. It was a little rough on me for I had no hat or shoes. Once when we thought the rebs. Might have passed on up the valley, we sallied forth to the pike, but saw nothing to encourage us to relinquish our hiding place, so we returned. A day or so afterward, I concluded to risk a trip to Winchester, which was about two miles distant. I could only limp along very slowly, and then would tire quickly on account of my wounded lung. I was bootless and hatless and so presented a woe-begone appearance, and my appearance was by no means deceitful. As I thus trudged along through the woods, not knowing whether I should meet friend or foe, I ran across some boys of my regiment who were out in a little ______. They were agreeably surprised and I was corresponding happy. They took me into Winchester where I was amply provided for, and a leave of absence added to my joys." "Well, Major, I'm obliged to you for your interesting experience." =================================================================================================================== Ironton Register - June 9, 1887 Capt. T(homas) W. Rose, formerly of Co. D, 91st O.V.I. stopped down to the meeting of the Republican Central Committee, last Friday, and when he had just finished a foaming glass of soda at Norton's Drug Store, and was feeling the delightful sensations of the delicious dose, the Register man brought him to the serious concerns of his life, by asking him if he had ever had a "narrow escape" in the army. "Why", said the Captain, smacking his lips and catching the final taste of the nectar, with which the glass was spiked, "yes, I took in a few. I had some "narrow escapes" and some several times, I was scared as bad as if they had been narrow. The closest place I ever was in my life, was at Opequan, on the 19th of September 1864, but the worst I ever was on the 22d of September, two days after, when I was ordered to take my company and drive in the enemy's skirmishers. I had been there before but this was the first time I was ever ordered to run the machine and that's what scared me. But just as I was getting ready, (Gen. George) Crook ordered a charge of the whole line and we went in on the double quick, charging about two miles. That was the worst I ever was scared. "Well, what about the other- the escape," asked the reporter. "Oh yes- it was an escape because the balls flew thick there. That was at Opequan. Our army, the Army of West Va., occupied the extreme right, and the reb line in front of us was so bent that, as we approached, it got a sort of enfilading fire on us. Well, we charged across an open space that gave the rebs a splendid chance at us. I tell you those balls came thick. Every second was a "narrow escape". I was running alongside of Ed(mond) Massie, whose "narrow escape" you had some time ago, when a reb bullet struck him right on the cheek bone, and dropped him, though he is now ready to tell you how it felt. "It was a pretty scary time just then. There we were right in an open field and the reb guns sprinkling us with cold lead. Not far ahead of us, I saw a little place which I thought would afford us shelter from the metal rain, and I ran there with my company and some others, but when I got there, I found it was no shelter at all. The bullets were as thick there as hail. So I ordered the boys to lie down, thinking that would be some relief. And right here I might tell you of (Sgt.) L(ewis) F. Wiseman's "narrow escape", which was a very interesting one. You see when a fellow tries to screen himself from reb lad, he avails himself of every little obstacle within reach. On this occasion, Comrade Wiseman got his head neatly chucked us behind a chunk of limestone, when a reb ball struck the stone with tremendous force right in the center, and if it hadn't been for the stone, the ball would have gone right into Frank's head, and Symmes township would today be minus one capital good fellow." "That was narrow." said the reporter, "but what became of you." "That was the hottest moment, and afterward the reb line began to give away. I remember just then, that an Aide came up ordering Lt. Col. (Benjamin F.) Coates to command the brigade; that Gen. (Isaac H.) Duval and Col. (Daniel D.) Johnson were both wounded, and Gen. (Rutherford B.) Hayes was ordered to the (Second) division. In a few moments after, we drove the rebs out and the worst was over. ================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, 16 June 1887, Thursday. Thomas Ackerson was a member of the 5th West Va. Infantry and belonged to Capt. Rowe’s company. The Register reporter hunted him up the other day for a narrow escape, and sure enough Thomas had one quite different from any that we have before related. And yet what a variety we have described! From sabre stroke, from bursting shell, from whistling musket ball, from captor’s clutches, from terrible starvation and every form of danger we have told the escapes of “our boys.” There seems to be no end to the variety, some are thrilling, some are blood-curdling, and some are really humorous even if deeply tinged with danger. Of the latter sort was Mr. Ackerson’s, and though he told it to me with a laugh, we thought we could detect a slight tremor in his voice when he came to the critical point. It was on the 24th of July, 1864. That was an eventful day to many soldiers from the county. The 91st, the 5th Va. and the 2d Va. Cav. were on the red line that day. It has already furnished this column with several thrilling incidents. Crook had come up from Winchester with his Army of West Va. and met Early coming down with a big army. Crook resisted but gave way after many hot fights. It was in one of these that Mr. Ackerson’s episode happened. The long line of the rebs swooped down on our little army at Kernstown; and not far from the big brick house, we made a stand. But it was not much of a stand, for the rebs came on relentlessly and swept our lines away with their superior members. But along the lines many a startling incident happened. By some little misfortune, our company of sixteen of us got apart from the regiment, and Capt. Rowe started to fight on his own hook by ordering us to charge on Early’s whole corps. Well, we did, says Mr. Ackerson, in a moderate sort of way, but we didn’t get far, for we struck the reb infantry in massed lines that poured volley upon volley on our receding ranks. we couldn’t stand it. Of course, we couldn’t. Fighting Early’s whole corps with sixteen men was too big a job, so we departed, quietly but quickly, and exceedingly anxious about the balls that whistled around our heads. Now, while we were getting out of there in as rapid a manner as possible, says Mr. Ackerson, was when I ran against a circumstance that I never will forget. Across the pathway of escape was a heavy hedge fence, and I thought to myself; now, to a man who is trying to get away from Early’s whole corps, banging minnie balls at him, what is a hedge fence? Why, simply nothing, thought I, and straight through it I aimed mycourse thinking that when I got the other side of it, I would be screened from the enemy’s view. So, when I got to it made a leap through its green, thorny branches. In times of peace, it would have been a task to be long debated before a fellow would run through a hedge fence. But when war is pounding at your back, a hedge fence it nothing, so I thought. But I hastily changed my opinion. I got into the middle of that hedge fence, and it seemed to me every thorn in the patch grabbed hold of me. Several of them snatched my haversack; several got my coat sleeve; some seized the stripe of my cartridge box, and in a moment I saw I couldn’t budge an inch either way; and here came the rebels in solid phalanx firing as they came. I could see their gray lines coming for me. I worked and tustled and pulled to get from the clutch of that hedge, but I never struck such an obstinate thing in my life. The rebs came nearer and nearer, and I struggled harder and harder. I began to think it was time to say my prayers. I thought farewell to home. I could see old Hecla furnace vanishing in the dim eternal past. My life seemed to flicker and flutter. On came the rebs nearer. The thorny hedge seemed to tighten its grasp. I could almost see the white of the reb eyes. A tremendous plunge I made, but bounced back on the piercing thorns. The rebs were within thirty yards. Another plunge--and out of the hedge I went, and away I flew to the rear. Across the field, our boys had taken up position behind a stone fence. To that I broke life a streak of lightning, the balls whizzing all about me. Would I ever get to the stone fence? I thought. Well, I did, and when I reached it, the boys grabbed me by the head and shoulders and pulled me over and I was safe. Even to this day when I see a hedge fence, it scares me, and I’de walk ten miles around one before I’de go through it. Now, you have my story--you can put in the literary part; the facts are just as I tell you. “All right,” said the Reporter, “the literary part shall be attended to, but I thank you very much for telling me your interesting experience. Good day.” “Good day, sir.” ==================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, 23 June1887, Thursday. The Register man met George Kiskadden of Hanging Rock under peculiar circumstances, on the 25th day of July 1864. Wandering about in the fourth story of an old mill which was used as a hospital at Cumberland, Md., and where there were a hundred cots filled with wounded men, we encountered the face of a man we had seen before, but could not place. It was very pale and indicated a serious wound. Engaging the person in conversation, we found it was George Kiskadden of the 2nd Va. Cavalry, and that he had been wounded on the 22d of July. We asked him what boys from Lawrence county had been killed in those fights there, and he stunned me by naming his very questioner, whom he did not know, as being one of the killed, that he (K) had seen the soldiers burying him, as he himself was carried by. Upon being solemnly assured that he was agreeably mistaken as to the person killed, and at the same time introducing ourselves, his pale face changed into a broad grin. But we talked it all over then and there, and in the next few days visited his bedside often. His cot was only about twenty fee from that on which lay the gallant Capt. Crossley, trying to save his right arm, which was badly shattered by a bullet. Mr. Kiskadden called at the Register office the other day, and these stirring scenes became the subject of the talk. His “narrow escape” lay in the nip and tuck of getting over that wound. Several times the doctors shook their heads and didn’t know “which way the --- was going to jump,” as the saying is. It was a flesh wound in the left side but took an ugly turn. “Refresh our memory on that little adventure of yours,” said we one day last week. “Well, the affair occurred near Newtown in the Shenandoah Valley, on the 22d of July, 1864. A squad of our regiment under Maj. Jerry Davidson, had been sent as far as Middletown, and the appearance of a big force of rebels caused us to fall back to Newtown. Then, towards evening, we halted, threw out our picket and started to make coffee. A company from the 3d Va. Union Cavalry passed by us towards the front, but it was not long before they cam swooping back, and getting out of there in a hurry. The next thing I knew, we were nearly surrounded by the rebs. About that time, Gen.’s Averill and Powell came up with reinforcements and we made a slight stand. A battery was planted on the hill near Newtown, and opened out with a vengeance, but it did no good. Early’s whole army was in line and was about to blot us out of existence. With the rest of our squadron I was on a hillside, firing at the reb line. But the line was making it hotter for us than we did for them. the bullets rained around us. While thus engaged a ball struck me in the side, and it struck so hard that for the moment I was stunned, and was about to fall from my horse, when Lieut. Barber sprang forward and caught me. He held me awhile and steadied me until I recovered from my fainting spell and then I started for the rear. As I passed on, I never saw the evidence of how thick the bullets could be, until I beheld them striking the ground ahead of, making little puffs of dust, just as one sees in a dusty road at the beginning of a rain when the big drops fall. It seemed a wonder to me how any man escaped that storm of lead. Poor Lieut. Barber--he got through that fight, but fell two days afterwards, in a gallant charge which the Register described in its interview some weeks ago. If it had not been for him, on the day I was shot, I wouldn’t be here now to tell you the story of it. ======================================================================================================================= ronton Register, June 30, 1887, Thursday “Halt! Who comes there?” said the Register man. “Israel Cross,” came from a farmer in Quaker Bottom. “Advance, Mr. Cross, and give me your ‘narrow escape’,” demanded the R. m. “Oh, is that what you want?” said Mr. C.; “I couldn’t think who you were or what you wanted.” “I am invested with powers extra-ordinary and plenipotentiary to hunt up all the ‘narrow escapes’,” said the R. m. “It won’t hurt, will it?” asked Mr. C. “Oh, no. Stop your plow a moment to let your horses rest and tell me that ‘narrow escape’ of yours, and I will be responsible for all damages.” “All right. I was a member of 6th O. Cavalry; Col. Steadman. On May 5,’64, we started on a raid against Richmond; had several skirmishes with the rebels, and on the 9th, they charged us on the rear, attacking pack-train, who were badly scared and scattered everywhere. I was on a good horse, and, taking a railing off the fence, jumped over into a large open field, where I stood facing the rebels who charged clear passed me, but did not see me, as I suppose. They took several boys prisoners and wounded three or four. They then fell back. I saw my company on a rise, but I stayed in the field under a cedar tree. Col. S. came up to where I was and said: “If I had my regiment here I would cut ------- out of them.’ The rebs saw him and he lit out on the corduroy road, with hat off, and the rebs after him pell-mell. I rode along the fence and emptied my carbine at them, but they paid no attention to me, as they wanted the Colonel. They were all drunk. I saw my company was leaving me and that the rebs would cut me off. In trying to get out of the field, I came across one of our boys tangled in the grapevine. I got down and cut him loose. Just then a Penn. Lieutenant came by and ordered me into line, but I refused, because I knew I would not be taken care of if I should get hurt. He drew his sabre and tried to make me, but I had a fresh load in my carbine, which I presented. He didn’t insist any further. Shortly after, I found my regiment. As the rebs were charging us, we were ordered to wheel off to the right and left gradually. As I was going to the right I saw a rebel Colonel, with his coat all buttoned up--a very tempting target. I opened on him, and just then a bullet struck me at the butt of the left ear. Instantly all was dark. “From now on I tell you what my comrades told me afterward: Frank Pritchard saw me fall from my horse and strike the ground with my head between my legs. He dismounted and straightened me. Several charges were made passed my by both our own troops and the rebs, but as they supposed me dead they paid no attention to me. As I had told our boys when we started on the raid that I had about $350 and some notes on the boys in a belt, Frank Prichard was crawling along through the grass on his hands and knees to get the money to send to my brother. As he came near me, he saw that I had my right hand under my head and was clutching the grass with my left. He was so overjoyed to find me alive (the bullet had entered behind my left ear and came out behind my right) that he called to some more of the boys to help him carry me out. As my horse was gone, Tom Hamilton brought his and I was put on that and taken to the hospital at White House Landing, where I stayed till I was well enough for duty.” “A very narrow escape, Mr. Cross.” “Can’t you stay for dinner?” “No, thanks; I must hunt up Ham Turley. Good bye.” ================================================================================================================ Ironton Register; July 7, 1887 King Salt Works down in Virginia, on the Va. and Tenn. R.R., seems to have been in much demand by both sides during the war. The Confederates wanted it for the salt and the Union boys desired it because the other side wanted it. Many a fight was had there and in that neighborhood; and when the Union troops would make a dash on it, thinking they would surely capture the place they were pretty sure to find it well defended. Alex Baldwin, of Co. B., 39th Ky. (Mounted Infantry, US), tells us of his experience, on a raid in that quarter, in October, 1864. He says: "We were ordered from Louisa, Kentucky, to make a raid on King's Salt Works. We started out, 4000 strong, under Gen. (Stephen G.) Burbridge. On the 6th day after we started, we arrived before the place at about 9 o'clock in the morning, and immediately made preparations to charge the reb breast works. For this purpose, a colored regiment was ordered to charge the rebel position. They advanced with courage and spirit. Poor fellows! Many of them were shot and killed in that unsuccessful attack and the ground was strewn with their dead and wounded. Our regiment, which was cavalry, was in a valley about half a mile from the works, and in plain view of the rebs. We counted off by eights for every eighth man to hold eight horses, and when this was done the regiment dismounted and started forward to attack. I was one of the lucky eight that were left back to hold the horses, and thought I had struck an easy job. In fact, I was very happy thinking how safe I was and wondering who of the boys moving to the attack would never come back. But these thoughts didn't last long. The regiment had hardly started when the shells began whizzing about us. They seemed to come around me by the dozen. Well, it must have been a shell that hit me or exploded very close to me, for when I waked up, my brother Jarvis and I were on all fours in the middle of Clinch River. The stream was very shallow and we didn't drown, but whether we were blown there or knocked there or dragged there, I don't know. All I know is that whereas the shells flew thick as rain, when I waked up I was crawling through the low current of that little river. I crawled on across the river and up a small drain, in the direction of our regiment and there I came to my Captain, sheltering himself under his horse. Col. (Charles) Hanson then came up and said the rebs had shot 13 holes in him, and then he went back to the top of the point where he was shot and left on the field. Our regiment was ordered back at 4 o'clock, and took position in some timber, but the fighting continued till sun down, when it ceased. I then went back to where I held the horses, to see if they were any left, but found several dead and the others gone. We built camp fires on the field at night and while they were burning got away from there, but the rebels, who had been largely re-enforced, closely accompanied us and made it hot for us till we reached the line dividing Virginia from Kentucky. We were three days without rations, but the bushwhackers kept us well supplied with hot bullets. We had a very hard time getting out of there, but I had the satisfaction in December following to enter their fort at King's Salt Work's, and helped myself to what I liked best, providing it was there. But we got the fort at last through the sacrifice of many a brave comrade. ==================================================================================================================== Ironton Register Interesting War Experiences Seeing Phillip Riter seated on a rustic bench puffing away at his favorite pipe and watching the blue curling wreaths as they ascended, seemingly contented with all the world-now I thought was a good time for a "narrow escape." He met with a pleasant laugh and said he had several but could not just now recall them. A fellow workman spoke up and said, "Tell that one you gave us the other day, its a good one. Well, I'll let you have that as nearly correct as I can give it." "I belonged to Co. G, 2nd VA Cavalry. It was August of '63. We were stationed at Martinsburg. The main street in that place passed through the center of the town, meeting the river at right angles on one side and a creek running along the base of a hill on the other. This creek was full of the finest fish, and we spent much time in seining and taking them by hand. A short distance above the creek was a very fine spring of clear, cold water, and we frequently gathered round it for a talk and drink. We had been on picket duty and were gathered here on day, when we received word that our regiment was leaving their position on the opposite side of the town. We were not relieved at the proper time but staid till about 12 o'clock when the sergeant ordered us into line and we moved off the knoll where we were down a slope to some level ground at a short distance from the spring. Here we all got ready for a rest. The boys suspected nothing wrong and we all got ready for a jolly time. Horses were unsaddled and fed, lunch was washed down with the cool spring water we had in our canteens and all scattered themselves over the ground, laughing, chatting and some sleeping. I could not rest easy as something had been troubling me all morning. I knew everything was not all right and as soon as my horse was done eating I started to saddle him. My sabre, I had not taken off as the others had. Seeing what I was doing, Coon Waits said, "Jake, what are you doing that for; are you afraid the rebs will take you?" At this, I did not put the bits in the horses mouth, but slipped the bridle over his head. A little while after this, I saw a big dust up by the spring and heard the tramping of horses. I yelled, "Look out boys, the rebs are coming." I wish you might have seen them bouncing and yelling around getting saddles and bridles on. Some left their blankets, arms and everything but horse and bridle. August Warneke and I were the best of friends and as luck would have it, he could not get the "nose bag" off his horse's head. [A nose bag was a canvas sack with a leather bottom and straps to buckle over the horse's nose. The grain was put into this bag which was strapped over the horse's head. When he wanted to eat, he touched the sack on the ground, which brought the grain within the horse's reach, on raising the head, the bag would drop far enough to give room for chewing-Reporter] "There he was trembling, pulling and jerking away while I was holding the horse. The Johnnies opened fire and the bullets began buzzing all around us. "Hurry up; get on without any bridle, I can't stand this any longer." "For God's sake, don't leave me," said he. I told him again to get on without a bridle; that I would rather have my neck broke than to be shot or captured by a reb. He put his foot in the stirrup and I let loose the reins. Away went the horse, Gus with one foot in the stirrup and clinging to the saddle with both hands. I turned around and opened fire to check them up till Gus got started. They stopped for a little while and then they came on like a lot devils. How the bullets whistled past my head. I was scared, but when I looked ahead and saw Wareke going down the road with that nose bag swinging from side to side on his horse's head and he trying to hold on without a bridle; his cap gone, his hair standing on end and his coat tail sailing to the breeze, I forgot all about the hereafter and had a hearty laugh. Away on the left we could see our boys going as if the whole rebel army was after them. As we rounded the corner by the hospital, I turned and fired a couple of shots at the leader, a powerful fellow on a very swift horse. Just then some of the Union officers at the hospital yelled, "Run yanks, they are going to cut you off at the ford." Sure enough, there, coming down a road that struck the main street in such a way as to cut us completely off, were about twenty rebels. I wheeled my horse and dashed down through the town with Gus far ahead of me, clinging to the horse's main with both hands. We dashed across the ford and up the hill on the upper side. When the Johnnies saw the rest of our boys, they gave up on the chase. I have had many a good laugh over this when I think of it. I would have enjoyed it much better then if the rebs had done less shooting. We thanked him for his kindness and left him thinking of the old friends and comrades of the war. ================================================================================================================= THURSDAY, JULY 28, 1887 "Did you ever hear of Tom Charlton's capture?" asked Gen. Enoch of us one day lately. "No, but he is in town now, and if there is anything in it, I'll try to get it," said the reporter. "Well, sir," said the General, "it is the funniest and at the same time the most thrilling _______ I know of. Be sure and get him to tell it to you." Mr. Charlton, with ___________, Alabama, was in town at the time, to attend the funeral of his _________ John, and the next day we met him and asked him to tell us about his capture and escape. He hesitated, at first, saying there was so much in it that looked like boasting, but we insisted, and so he related the incident substantially as follows: "I belong to Co. H, 5th West Va. Infantry. In the spring of 1864, in the first part of May, when Crook and Averill had gone down to burn the bridge a New Bern, on the Va. And Tenn. R.R., our regiment was left at Meadow Bluff. About the __th of May a ____ arrived from Crook, giving the ___ that his army was __________ and ___________ our regiment to forage down as far as Lewisburg to get supplies for his troops, who were out of rations." "At the same time, Blazer's Scouts came in tired and worn out ______man from such of our companies and ordered to join him and recuperate his force. I was picked from my company. Now, it wasn't a healthy thing to belong to Blazer's Scouts just then, for he had recently hung six bushwhackers and it would be death for any of his men to fall into the reb's hands. But I was in for it, so I put on my spurs and mounted my __________. "We proceeded down the road toward Lewisburg to Tutwiler's farm, and three of us went down to poke around in his barn to see if we could scare up any provisions. It was then after dark. There being none, we returned, and a short distance further on, our company of ________ went into camp. I took a bucket and went out to a spring, a short distance when at last we stopped in an orchard, where they investigated me. The big fellow said, 'You are one of Blazer's Scouts.' I protested that I was not. He said, 'I know you are,' at the same time raising his rifle to shoot me. I thought sure it was the last of me; but the little fellow interfered and said, 'Don't shoot the boy.'" The big one kept on insisting, and I kept denying that I was one of Blazer's Scouts, and the little fellow all the time interfering to save me and finally did." "Then we started for the mountain. Before, and on this little march, I was terribly scared lest my spurs would give me away. If the rebs would only discover those spurs, then they'd know I belonged to Blazer's Scouts, and nothing would save me. I thought as I walked, they would certainly hear the noise of the spurs; and when we climbed a fence, I felt sure the spurs would give me away. At last we stopped to rest, and all sat down, and then was my chance. When we arose from there, my spurs didn't get up with me. I had slyly taken them off and left them on the ground." "We had gone some distance up the mountain when we stopped at a large frame house and stayed all night. The next morning we went to Muddy Creek mountain. There, at a house in an opening of the woods, we stopped. I could see Lewisburg and our camp from there. The bushwhackers came and went in squads and companies. Some poked fun at me and some threatened me. The house was occupied by an old woman and four children. Here my captors would take turns guarding me. By this time, I had learned their names; the big fellow was Bumgarner, and the little fellow, Walker. At one time I was left with Bumgarner, who had the revolver, Walker having gone away with the gun. Well, it was in the house and Bumgarner sat in a chair before the fire place. Directly he went to sleep, his revolver lying across his lap. There was an iron shovel, a rough iron handled and heavy affair, standing by the fire place. I took this, got back of Bumgarner, drew back the shovel, and aimed a blow at him. The woman looked on with wide open and horrified eyes, but did not utter a shriek. Somehow, I couldn't strike, the shovel trembled in my hands awhile, and I laid it down without even waking Bumgarner. And well I did, for just then six bushwhackers appeared at the door. Had I struck him, I would have been a dead soldier a minute after. But it was not yet safe, in my own mind. I was afraid the woman would tell on me; but she didn't. She kept the affair closely to herself. The bushwhackers wakened Bumgarner, and made great sport of him, telling him how busy it would have been for his prisoner to have killed him." "After while, Walker returned and we moved to another house where there was an old woman and her two daughters. There were about 150 bushwhackers at the house and on the premises. Here, while being left in the house alone with the women for awhile, the old women frightened me no little by informing me that I was in the hands of a dangerous man -- that "Bumgarner had actually murdered four men." "Stopping here but a while, we went further down the mountain to another house, where an old man and his wife lived alone. Here Bumgarner left and Walker staid to guard me. After being here a short time, we went to a flax house, near by, where we laid down and went to sleep. Walker had his rifle by his side. I wakened up first, slipped over to Walker, took his gun, but just as I raised up, I saw 25 bushwhackers approaching through the woods. I quickly laid down the gun and woke up Walker. The company of bushwhackers passed on, and directly Walker and I went up to the house, where Bumgarner soon joined us. After supper, Bumgarner again left, saying as he departed, if I gave Walker no more trouble than I did last night, he would release me when he came back. He made me feel a little more uncomfortable by that remark, than if he hadn't said it. Anyhow, I determined if possible to liberate myself that night, for only at night was it safe to attempt to escape." "After supper, we all sat in front of the fire, for it was a little cool that evening. The old man and his wife, sat directly in front of the fire place. Walker to their left and I to their right. Walker had his gun in his hand and close to him was a bed. I had resolved to make a strike for freedom before 8 o'clock, if the slightest opportunity arrived. It was now after 7 o'clock. We talked familiarly, Walker yawned and seemed sleepy. I eyed him carelessly. He took off his powder flask and cap box and laid them on the bed. We kept lazily talking on. I kept eyeing the clock. It was nearly 8. Walker arose from his chair, leaned his gun against the bed and started to pace across the room in front of the bed, and handy to the gun. We talked on. The old man and woman watched the flickering flame in the fire place. Walker paced to and fro in front of the bed. It was within a minute or so of 8. The ___________________ after all, for when I stuck the gun in his face, the cock, which was hung on a hair trigger, went down with a crack, but the cap failed to go off, and that saved his life. But I had the cap box and another cap on before the excitement of the moment was over." "He then began to beg me not to kill him; I told him there was no danger -- he had treated me well, and all I wanted was for him to pilot me back to my camp. I told him he was to march before me, and if I found he was misleading me I would shoot him for I would myself be shot if caught. So I opened the door and bade him march, and I followed close behind him into the dark. As we left the door, I glanced back, and saw the old man throw up his hands and exclaim. "My God, did you ever see anything like it?" "It was starlight, and we proceeded through the woods, my prisoner in the lead and myself just behind with my gun at a charge. We talked very little. In an hour or so, after struggling through the dark woods, we struck the pike, near a big brick house. Here some hounds set up a bowl, and I knew that this would alarm somebody, so I ordered my prisoner to double-quick it down the pike toward Lewisburg. I kept right behind him with my gun ready. Oh my, but we got tired. He begged to rest, but I would not consent. We kept on that run for six miles. Finally, I beheld in the distance, for I was peering ahead all the time, the form of a man on horseback. We slackened up, and as we approached he called out: "Who comes there?" I replied, "A friend -- a Union soldier," for I thought I recognized his voice. I explained that I had a prisoner in charge and that I could not lay down my gun, so he ordered me to hold it high over my head, which I did and approached him. I was elated to find it was Bill Veasy, an old Ironton boy. He showed me where the reserve was and I went there, where I found Billy St. Clair and Brown Veasy. Then my prisoner guided me to the church in Lewisburg where my company was. They were very much astonished at my appearance, and greeted me as one from the dead." "The next morning I went to regimental headquarters where I found Col. Tomlinson and Lieut. Col. Enochs, who laughed heartily at my narrative. But on my way there, I met Dr. Myers, our regimental surgeon, who gave me fits for not shooting the rebel. Afterward, when the Doctor found out that my prisoner was a brother of the __________ girl he was engaged to, he wasn't half so bloody thirsty." "And now to gather in the threads of this long story; Walker and Bumgarner were in that barn for which we poked about for provisions, but we didn't happen to poke them up. Walker was sent to Camp Chase, and after the war returned to his home on the Kanawha, where he was killed by a well that caved in on him while he was cleaning it. Bumgarner met a slightly different fate After the war, he with a horse trader came into Ohio to sell some horses. He murdered his associate, was arrested, tried and hung at Marietta." "And this is all of my story, except that the rifle which I took from Walker, and to which I owe my liberty, is at the Ironton Water Works, in the possessi ========================================================================================================== Thursday, August 4, 1887 Ironton Register When Tom Charlton got through relating to us the thrilling experiences, which we printed in this column last week, he smiled as he said, "that wasn't ___________ an escape as I had some _________. "Well, tell it to me," we asked. "Oh, you've got enough about me now," he replied; "I ain't much to figure in papers." "But," we remarked, "the boys like to have the old stories submitted, and beside, those personal experiences should be ______ before it is too late." "Thus challenged, Mr. Charlton went on to relate another affair, which, while it might not have had the little crooks and curves of a romance which the capture had, and will not take as many words to tell it, to him it was intensely more thrilling. But let the little incident, which will take but a moment to tell, speak for itself. "At the light at Kernstown, in the Summer of 1864, our color-bearer was shot down, and I raised the colors and carried them through the fight and saved them. whereupon the Colonel insisted that I carry the colors thereafter. I didn't much want to do it, for I thought I was too young, but finally consented, and this was what brought me into the tight place. "Some time after, near Berryville, we were getting supper, when the bugle blew to form lines immediately. There was a brigade of us, but we were in line in a short time, and well enough, too, for here came a rebel force right down on us. Then the musketry commenced and the whizzing of balls became pretty lively. Our regiment happened to get into close quarters with a part of the rebel force. I was up in the front with the colors, when I saw a reb behind a tree, trying to get a whack at me. My revolver was empty, so that I could not fight him on equal terms, and I couldn't get out of ________ without being shot, sure. So I hastily made up my mind to jump to the tree behind which the reb was making his demonstrations against me. I got there-the reb on one side of the tree and I on the other. But the reb had the advantage largely-the gun was loaded, while my revolver was empty; but he didn't know it, so that bettered my situation some. I had the flag in one hand and the empty revolver in the other; the reb had only his gun. "May be it would have made a fellow laugh to have seen us bobbing about that tree, each fellow trying to kill or capture the other. The reb couldn't get his gun around the tree far enough to shoot me without getting in range of my pistol, and he had his gun ready to pop me over if I exposed ___________. We bagged that tree _________. We flattened ourselves right out against the ______ and eyed each edge of the tree with deep interest. "This got too monotonous to me pretty soon, and besides I expected some other fellow would soon come to the reb's help, so I determined to make a bold strike. Watching my opportunity, I sprang out at the side of the tree, and with my empty revolver stuck in his face before he could cover me with his gun, I cried, "_________________," the reb emptied his gun, which I immediately seized, when I threw down the revolver and ran Mr. Reb _____________ prisoner. then I returned to the fight, which was over in a little while. "The next morning I passed by where the reb _______ was under guard. He recognized me and called out: 'If I'd a knowed that revolver of yourn was empty, you wouldn't have got away from that tree alive,' and I don't think I would." ================================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, August 18, 1887 We met Jas. Brammer, of the firm of Brammer Bros., who own a mill near the mouth of Symmes Creek. The subject of narrow escapes, as appearing in the Register, came up. He said his brother, Frank E. Brammer, member of Battery L., 1st O., was the man who built the fire between McGee and Jone, to keep them from freezing to death after their wounds of Cedar Creek. At our request he gave full particulars of his brother’s part in this action: "After Early’s charge at Cedar Creek, he undertook to save his gun. While harnessing, the infantry were fast getting ground between themselves and the rebels. No regulation method of mounting or starting was observed. Accoutrements and other traps were left scattered over the ground. When he got started there were no other Union boys in sight. On reaching the top of a slight hill, he came in full view of five armed rebels who halted him. He turned his horse as quick as a flash and started off at full gallop. All fired. The quick change of position undoubtedly saved his life, as the bullets whistled directly over where they had been. One struck his horse. He sprung behind the saddle upon another and galloped toward the re-formed Union lines. The driver of the lead horse to his piece had been shot; he being on the wheel horse, lost all control of the team of six horses hitched to the piece. The animals, frightened by the shots and yells, soon became unmanageable, but he pluckily retained his seat. But it was about as dangerous to jump as to stay on the horse, for he would, if not killed by the team, be either shot or captured by the rebels. A bursting shell made them wheel in a circle right broadside to the rebel line, when they poured a deadly volley into them. Bullets whistled in all directions. Five horses in the team were shot. The one that escaped was the near wheel horse upon which he was riding. The off one fell against his leg, pinning him against the tongue in such a manner that he could not escape. A piece of shell struck the horse upon which he was seated, on the neck. Although it had received a death wound, it reared and plunged fearfully, allowing him to free himself from his perilous position. In the struggle, the strong tongue of the calason (?) was broken in two. He sprang up and amid a storm of shots ran for the Union ranks. He could see no one belonging to his battery, so he, on regaining the lines, joined another battery and re-entered the fight which was now raging fiercely on all sides. After the battle, the result of which is known to all, he proceeded to hunt up his own boys, who had given him up for dead. "You remember," said his brother, "the narrow escapes of Jones and McGee spoken of at length in the Register some time ago? Both had had a leg taken off by a cannon shot in this fight. Well, my brother found them and built a fire between them to keep them from freezing to death. One incident that occurred made him feel worse than anything happening during the whole day. He took an axe and started out to get wood. Seeing what he supposed to be a log of wood, he raised his axe and put his foot on the supposed log, as one naturally would in chopping. Imagine his horror on finding it a human body, stark and stiff in death. "During the night, Jones, who was suffering terribly, kept up a noise by groaning. In order to ease him, Brammer went to the surgeon for medicine. ‘Give him this,’ said he, handing him a bottle, and he’ll not bother you anymore tonight.’ I took the bottle, but before giving it to him I held it before the light of our fire and found it was laudanum. Verily, had he administered the required dose he would have had no further trouble from poor Jones. "One thing more about this battle," said Mr. Brammer, "and I will close. A few nights before the battle my brother had a very strange dream, in which he saw the scene of the fight and went through the whole battle. So accurate was his vision of the place that on reaching it, a place he had never seen before, he told his companions they would fight there and get a terrible whipping, and in the language of Chatham, ‘so it proved." Mr. Brammer was sorry that we could not see Frank, as he would have given us a much better description. ===================================================================================================================== We ran against Joshua Kite, at the County Reunion, and asked "What regiment was you in, Josh?" "In the 2nd Va. Infantry," he replied. "How came it you got there?" we inquired. "Well, you see, I went in on Lincoln's first call for 75,000, but Ohio filled her quota of that call before I got there, and as a company was forming at Ironton for the 2nd Va. Reg., I joined it. That was Capt. McAnally's company." "What was the closest call you had in the war?" "About the closest call that occurs to me now was the first day at second Bull Run. That was the 31st day of August, 1863. Our regiment was in Milroy's brigade of Sigel's division, and made a charge on the rebel line, which was behind a graded fill of the railroad which made splendid breastworks. At first we were not aware that there were any troops there. When we drove in the rebel skirmishers they went over the breastworks and kept on going, so we did not think there were any troops hid behind the railroad, until we got within 30 or 40 steps, when they rose and let fly. "Well, that was the narrowest escape ever I had. The man next to me on the right was killed and the man next to me on the left was badly wounded. It was a hail of musket balls, and why it didn't sweep every man down is a mystery. But it did kill scores. I was so paralyzed I didn't know what to do. I didn't ever think of running, though the whole line retreated with great confusion. I did jump behind a clump of oak bushes, and fired my old musket at the railroad fill. I was the only fellow there and the balls were millions, I thought. First, it occurred to me to fall on the ground and make believe I was dead. But then I thought that a stray ball of the few thousand would hit me and end the make-believe. Again I thought, the rebs would come from their earth works and take me in charge, and I believed I had rather be killed. These things all revolved in my mind, when it occurred to me, the best thing to do was to strike for the rear, as fast as my legs would carry me. "So, I bounded forth from behind the oak bush like a streak of greased lightning. My, how I flew! The earth seemed to skip beneath my feet like a flash of powder. As I emerged from the oak bush it seemed as if all of Hill's Corps aimed at me. The balls plowed up the ground all around. I wondered if I wasn't full of balls, and I was going so fast I couldn't stop. They zipped all around me. One big shell went right over my head. I looked back and saw it coming. I thought sure it would burst as it struck my head, but it went on. As I ran, a wounded man called me and I turned to help him. He was shot in the calf of the leg. I took him and carried him behind a sycamore tree for protection, and set him up in as comfortable a place as I could. While standing there a moment, catching my breath, a ball struck the tree and I began to think the sharpshooters were now after me. I moved back further and soon got where our line was re-forming. "I was in the fight the next day, and that too was terrible. Then I had a little experience that was interesting to me. I was struck by a grape ball, with a thump that nearly knocked me over, but it didn't break the skin. It lodged in my blouse, however. You remember it was stated that in the second Bull Run fight, the rebs shot pieces of T rail from their cannon, and that the charge was denied. I can tell you it was true, for I saw it; and I saw where the chunks struck and plowed up the ground. But excuse me from a closer call than I got at Bull Run." ==================================================================================================================== ronton Register, Thursday, September 8, 1887 John L. Roger's Experience "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 mussels, 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 d—n 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 – 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." ================================================================================================================== Dr. Jona Morris's Experience Ironton Register, Thursday, October 13, 1887 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. ========================================================================================================== Ironton Register, Thursday, October 20, 1887 Guy Rowe's Experience 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." ================================================================================================================= Ironton Register, Thursday, October 27, 1887 Col. W. H. Raynor's Experience 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 trinkets 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. ================================================================================================================ IRONTON REGISTER Thursday Nov 3 1887 Last Friday we met the genial Joe Turley on our streets. He belonged to the 6th Ohio-that was the Guthrie Gray regiment. Before the war there was a crack company at Cincinnati known as the Guthrie Greys; and that was made the beginning of a regiment, and the Captain was made a Colonel. Several Lawrence county boys went into that regiment; among them, J.H. Simmons, Wm. Betts, Sim Shattuck and others. Some weeks ago, we published a very amusing interview which we had with Col. Betts about the capture of a certain pot of beans which the rebels made from their mess, and how nearly the picket post got taken in by the rebs, at the same time. Mr. Turley was there then, and came near being captured. That was in West Va. Afterward the regiment went to the West and took part in all the big battles where his regiment gained glory by brave fighting. He was at Stone River, Mission Ridge, Chattanooga, and all the big fights at that time. “But as to say particular ‘narrow escape’ where I was individually concerned,” said Mr. Turley, “I have none to relate. I was with my regiment and served in the ranks and took my risks with the rest of them and came out untouched , except by a spent bullet that struck me in the breast in one of the Tennessee battles. But that did me no harm except to sting a little. But the most dangerous place I was in during the war was at the battle of Stone River. I remember Capt. SLATER gave a description of that fight not long ago, and a very true account it was. He was on the right, our regiment was in the center in Gen. PALMER’S division. The rebels, you remember, turned our division on the right flank, with a force and energy that made us quiver and fall back. It was a very successful move on the part of the enemy, and it served us terribly. Why, in the space of fifteen minutes our regiment lost 150 men. The fire of the enemy was fearful, as you might judge from such fatality. Then was when I thought was my narrowest escape in all my four years’ service. My friend, Sim Shattuck, who was by my side was killed; the man on the other side was shot down. So you see they were feeling for me quite lively. Of course, we couldn’t hold them very long, for our own flank was turned; our right in full rout; so we fell back, and the rebs kept close to us, dealing the most destructive fire all the time. It was a gloomy moment. At last, however, we made a stand and held it all that day and the next, and on the third day the rebel army withdrew.” ”That was the hottest place I was ever in, and I presume was my narrow escape.” ================================================================================================================ IRONTON REGISTER Thursday Nov. 10,1887 For the past year, we have given a Narrow Escape in every number of the Register. We have the satisfaction of knowing they have been agreeable reading. Many words of praise have come to us for our care in keeping up this department. We will continue for some time longer, but the old soldiers must come to our assistance in the way of furnishing the facts. Sometimes we have hard work in hunting up these experiences, while we know there is plenty to tell. Let them send us the facts briefly of their close calls and exciting experiences, or submit to be interviewed and we will rescue from oblivion much that will otherwise be forgotten. The other day a well known gentleman (not living here) who gathers historical matter for future use, got a promise from us to furnish all the “Narrow Escapes” when they are concluded; so we don’t know how prominently they may figure in the future histories of the war. We say so much before we proceed to the real story we have in view, because it is suggested when we wrote “No. 52” at the head of this article. We have been having the reportorial eye on Capt. I.B.MURDOCK for some time, so the other night we caught him and before he knew it, he had told me a very interesting escape. Capt. Murdock was in the 2nd Va Cavalry, and was in all the fights of that fighting regiment. The event which he described to us was not a bloody one, but it was rather exciting. It occurred in the Fall of 1862, while the regiment was lying at Camp Piatt on the Kanawha. He said in substance, “One night after dark Capt. Charley HAMBLETON was detailed with 75 men to go to Loup creek, about 20 miles above on the west side of the river. So, with his command he crossed the Kanawha at Piatt and moved up the river. What his commission was he did not know, except in a vague, general way he was to scout around for rebels. When within a mile of the mouth of Loup creek, he sent out an advance guard to station a picket there, while he, Capt. Hambleton with the rest of the command would rest where they were. When the advance guard arrived at the mouth of the Loup, they found a picket post already established by the Union troops at Gauley; and not deeming it necessary to add more picket, the advance guard fell back to the main body, where along the narrow shore of the river, they all laid down, and being very weary and sleepy from all the night’s ride, were soon lost in a sound slumber. The road there is very narrow, and so the squadron were scattered up and down among the bushes at the foot of the hill for about 75 yards. Just about daylight, Capt. Murdock heard a shot up the river, which no one else seemed to have heard and wouldn’t have noticed it probably, as there was unnecessary shooting up and down the river almost any hour of the day. But the report of the musket seemed to have put Capt. Murdock on his guard. For some reason he thought it might be the picket at the mouth of Loup creek; so he concluded not to go to sleep, but await developments. It was not long that he had to wait, for up the road he saw some horsemen ride to the top of a little raise and then dodge back again. Immediately he jumped up and ran along the string of men and shook each one vigorously but they were so sound asleep that he only got four up-Jno. S. DUKE, Will HOPKINS, Dick DAVIS, and John CARLILE- when the rebel cavalry, 300 strong, came swooping down on them. The rebs were in full gallop and did not seem desirous of stopping but went right through those 75 union cavalry like a train of cars. Our boys, being of course, astonished and completely surprised, dodged almost every way to escape. Some jumped over the river bank; some hid behind brushes and trees. These the rebs didn’t bother with. They seemed in a hurry. They appeared about as badly surprised as our boys, and they only took prisoners those who hadn’t had time to get out of the road. There were about fifteen of these and they went to Richmond. The reason the rebs were in such a hurry was, they were cut off from their rear and were aiming at some back route further down the river. After the rebels had dashed through and disappeared, our boys got together again and compared notes. Then it appeared that for all the banging and swinging of sabers, nobody was hurt. All the loss was the fifteen prisoners. Our boys crossed the river near Loup creek, and went down on the other side, very much disappointed with their raid, but very happy to have had as many escapes as there were. Right here, Capt Murdock tells another thing that is startling, though not a narrow escape. A short distance below the scene of the calamity, lived a man by the name of STOCKTON, who owned a little flatboat. The boys asked him for the loan of the boat in which to float down to Camp Piatt. The old man refused them, whereupon....of the boys cursed him and “hoped he’d drop dead this minute”, and sure enough the old man did drop dead that very minute. That’s the story. Capt. Murdock says it was true history then, but is it really now? ================================================================================================================= Ironton Register Thursday Nov 17 1887 Brady STEECE wears a buckshot in his arm. It was planted there one hot July afternoon, down in Virginia, near Winchester. He didn’t like it at the time, but now he is proud of his little burden. It has become a part of himself, and he doesn’t know it is there. Some time, however, we think that when Brady hurrahs for Blaine, it is because he imagines that buckshot gets uneasy and rolls about. “Tell us about it,” said the Register reporter, the other day, as he observed Mr. Steece leaning against a big box of dry goods “just received” from New York. “Oh” said Brady, “it isn’t much but it might have been a grapeshot as well as a buckshot, for some of the boys took grape on that terrible day and fell to rise no more. I belonged to Co. H 91st O.V.I. , Capt. CROSSLEY commanding. Our regiment was brigaded with the 14th and 9th Va. regiments and 12th Ohio. Col. DUVAL was our brigade commander. We had twelve pieces of artillery and a squadron of cavalry, the whole force, about 2000 men being under Gen. AVERILL. We left Martinsburg early in the morning and marched toward Winchester, but had not got far when our advance ran into rebel cavalry, but a regiment thrown into line of battle quickly put the rebel forces on the move. Thus a half dozen times was our march arrested, until we got within four or five miles of Winchester. Then, the usual demonstrations didn’t seem to impress the rebel force gathered in a skirt of woods just in front. It was soon ascertained that the rebs meant fight, and that some ugly work was at hand; so our brigade was thrown into line of battle and moved forward under cover of a gentle slope, where we awaited developments. In the meantime our artillery was brought up and ranged along a little raise just to our rear. The artillery duel began and for a while it was hot. The shells came in both directions over our heads, and I believe we made little dents in the earth trying to scrooch as low as possible. After thus being subjected to the noise of shells for some minutes, the time arrived to move forward. The woods in which the rebs were posted was about 300 yards ahead of us. Between us and them was clear ground. The first move was that of a squadron of cavalry, from our left, that charged out bravely on the reb right, with the purpose of turning it. But when they arrived within a couple hundred feet of the woods,, they came back pell mell, hurry-skurry, for dear life. The reb right extended far beyond the point of their attack, and actually overlapped our line. If at that moment the rebs, had charged us, the fate of the day might have been decidedly different. But they didn’t, and that gave us the chance to charge, which was immediately sounded, and forward we went. Had we known the force that was in front of us, we might have been badly whipped, for the fact would have moderated our dash considerably, but “ignorance was bliss”, and in we went to “chaw up” the rebs. Our line was stretched perpendicular to the road; the 14th on our left, and the 9th Va. and 12 Ohio to our right. Our company happened to span the pike, which proved to be a great point of danger. As we advanced, the artillery played its terrible tune. Our progress was at first moderated, until we came within good gun range, and the reb muskets opened on us, then the charge was sounded and forward we went. Well, now, look here; you don’t expect me to describe that charge! If you do it will take a Webster’s Unabridged and several hours to do it. I’ve been told that right where we were, was the hottest five minutes of the war, and I believe it. Yes sir, it rained balls. I could see them make puffs in the dust of the road like the big drops that begin a summer shower. The rebs had four guns right in the road, down which we were charging, and they let loose with canister. But our boys didn’t falter; on they went with the line, keeping up their battle front, though the way was strewn with dead and wounded of company H. What was left of our company kept up the charge, and actually some of our boys clubbed the reb gunners right at their battery. But I didn’t get that far. I met with a circumstance on the way. Although it was only a buckshot, I thought it was a cannonball gone right through me. At any rate my musket dropped right out of my hand. As I stumbled to the roadside the sight was heartrending. There lay DAY, and STEEL, and BRUCE and HITE and WILKINS and others of the boys , killed and wounded. The shower of balls and shriek of shells kept up; and even then, we didn’t know but what those who were not killed would be captured. But I soon saw differently, and not withstanding my pain, I was ready to yell; for as I sat beside one of our wounded I saw a long line of reb prisoners being brought in, and then I felt pretty safe. Well, we whipped the rebs, and it was a mystery. They had 6000 men in good position, and we had not over 2000, and charged across the open field. I think it was only impudence and dash that conquered. Anyhow, we captured their guns and drove them into Winchester. My company went into that fight with 42 and came out with 11 men under command of 5th Sergeant Albert CAMPBELL. It was there that Maj. CROSSLEY, formerly County Treasurer, lost his right arm, and which finally took his life. Eleven of our boys were killed there and twenty wounded. It about blotted out Co H. That night I joined the ambulance train for Martinsburg, and then two days after was taken to Claryville, just in time to escape old Jubal EARLY, who came up the valley driving our boys before him.” ================================================================================================================= IRONTON REGISTER Thursday Nov. 24, 1887 “Well, Captain, it’s your time” said the Register reporter to Capt. Jake EMMONS as he was getting a span of nags together for a ride to Portsmouth. “Time for what ?” he asked with some curiosity. When we told him, a “narrow escape” for the Register, he took a seat by the stove, gave the fire a few pokes and said, “Really I don’t know anything that was quite so thrilling to me as my capture. I can tell you about that. It was not a great affair, but it was particularly interesting to me.” “Very well,” said the reporter, the ‘narrow escapes’ are intended to give personal reminiscences, and the accounts of such events as where the narrators were themselves actors.” “Well, sir,” replied Captain Jake , “it was on the 4th of July 1863, or rather about midnight, that the affair took place. We were then stationed at Fayetteville and 22 of us were sent out under Capt. ANKRUM, to capture picket post between Fayetteville and Raleigh. Nothing unusual occurred until we got beyond the 8-mile house, and were riding along the W. that the course of the road made, when we came upon a body of rebels stretched along the road and ambushed in the woods. We discovered them before they had a chance to fire a shot, and as they seemed to have a pretty good force, we turned back, intent on stealing out of that danger and returning, without capturing the picket post we had started for. We had got back to the 8-mile house, or just beyond it, when Jack McMAHON, who was in the advance guard, called back that the road was blocked ahead of him; and just then, Col. THOROMAN of the reb force, stepped out and fired his revolver and cried “Surrender you d...n Yankees.” This was the signal for a volley, and the shot was poured into us right lively. Jim SWEENY and Jake MYERS were killed. Dick BARRON and others were wounded there. Just as the firing commenced, I was near the stump end of a big tree, that had fallen by the roadside, and I jumped behind that and aimed a shot or two with my revolver. But, gracious it was no use. The flash of reb powder almost burnt my face. Our boys tumbled back in great confusion, and I turned to go too, when my knee struck a part of the tree and wounded me nearly as bad as a sabre cut would, but I held on my horse and kept going, and going pretty fast too. Mart GOODMAN was just ahead of me, and his horse was shot, and fell with a crash, and my horse tumbled right over him and pitched me off in the road. Well now, just then was a very scaly (original article) time. It was dark; rebs all around us; my knee was hurt bad enough to prevent walking; thick woods on both sides of the road. I started to crawl across the road. Tom WILSON was with me. Our idea was to get into woods and hide. But before we got out of the road, two rebs got in front of us. Tom said ‘we had better surrender,’ and I agreed with him, and soon the rebs were on us and we surrendered. They didn’t seem to treat us very nicely, and some made threats. About that time Col. Thoroman came up, and tapping me on the shoulder, asked, ‘Didn’t you fellows swear you would take my life if you caught me?’ I replied, ‘I never made any such an oath- that I never expected to kill you unless it was done in a fair fight.’ Upon this answer, he ordered his men to treat us nicely and they did. The next day we were hauled off to Libby prison. There were of us prisoners, Mart KING, Wat CALFORD, J.K.HASTINGS, Josh ASHCROFT, and Nick and Bill DOREN. We were at Libby until the 22nd of Dec following, when we were exchanged and returned to our regiment. We lost every horse in that little encounter but one, and that had five or six bullets in him when he returned to Fayetteville. He got away by jumping over a little embankment and skipping out to the woods. I have been in several engagements where the thunder and blood were worse, but I never had quite so scary a time as I had that night. It was very dangerous experience, and to this day I tremble, when I recollect about a minute of that night.” ================================================================================================================= IRONTON REGISTER THURSDAY DEC 1, 1887 Esq. J.Q. BELLVILLE sat in his office, last Friday, receiving the congratulations of his friends on the entrance that day, upon his second term as Magistrate of upper township, when the Register man drew near and offered his friendly wishes, at the same time taking occasion to ask the “Squire” if he objected, on so felicitous an event, reverting to the days of the war and furnishing us with a little reminiscence. “Not at all,” answered Squire Bellville, “but the trouble is, I don’t remember anything worth relating just now, but probably will at another time. But there was a little affair,” said he hesitating and reflecting a moment, “that to me is decidedly interesting. Besides, it is quite a different bit of experience from what you have been relating, and though brief, may serve to furnish a variety to your interesting sketches.” “It was 1861, early in the year. That was an exciting time up in Wheeling. That city was pretty evenly split up on the question of secession., but the union men were brave and numerous and, at last got an upper hand and boldly pushed the project to slice off the state of West Virginia from the old Dominion. It was during this agitation that an independent company of 150 men was formed and well armed. Although a local organization, it was in the general service and was paid by the Union government. The company was known as the Pierpoint Guards. The officers were Capt. RATLIFF; 1st Lieut. Ad OREY, now living in Ironton; 2nd Lieut. Jos. REESE. I was a Sergeant in the company. This organization was kept pretty busy protecting loyal people and rooting out little rebel nests that began to build around through the state. We wore no uniforms then. One time we were out in the Rider settlement, 70 or 80 miles from Wheeling, on the lookout for a rebel force that were intimidating the Union people in that region. While on the excursion, I was sent out on a little scout with ten men, and then met with the exciting experience which I am to relate. Marching along the road, one morning, we passed a nice looking farmhouse, off the road some distance, probably 200 yards, and some of the men under my command asked leave to break ranks and go to the house to get some milk. I consented and they all wanted to go. It being only a short distance and the men tired and hungry, I told them to stack their arms, that they all could go, and I would stay and watch the guns. So, they all jumped the fence and started to the house, while I sat down on a big log to await their return. It was across a clear field to the house, but in the other direction was a heavy thicket, the edge of which was only about 100 feet from where I sat. As I sat there musing and waiting, a man suddenly stepped from the thicket and leveled his gun right at me. My blood fairly froze in my veins at the sight of him. But there was no use-I couldn’t get away. I looked in the mouth of that gun, for I saw that it had a fine bead on me. There was nothing to do but face the danger, so I looked full at the man, not knowing how soon a ball would enter my brain. Then the man, still keeping his aim on me, demanded: ‘Who are you?’ ‘ a soldier- the rest of us are over at that house,’ I answered. ‘What regiment do you belong to?’ he asked without changing the aim of his gun. This question was getting dangerously near to an issue, and I felt that my salvation depended on how I answered it, but I soon blurted out: ‘The first Virginia’ ‘There are two regiments of that name, which is it?’ he demanded. Then I was paralyzed more than ever. If I had known whether that man was Union or Secesh, I would have known how to answer, but I didn’t. I had half made up my mind he belonged to that reb force we were out there after, and I that had captured him unawares. Still I thought he might be one of our scouts. In the dilemma I could see no advantage to misleading the man so I answered: ‘The Union first, the one that is forming at Wheeling.’ At this he stepped forward a little, and there appeared another man with him, who was also armed and aimed for an emergency. By this time, the men at the house, alarmed by the conversation, came running toward their guns. Before they got there, however, the two men who emerged from the thicket became assured that we were ‘Union,’ and so they came up and joined our party and told their story. They were Union scouts on the watch for the rebel recruiting force, and having run up against us early in the morning, had been following us all day; thinking we were the secesh squad. When they caught me alone with the guns, they concluded it was their time. And as for.......thought my time had come too. No one call? ..... the feelings that bewildered me, when that fellow sought to enforce his little catechism on me under the impulse of the fine bead of that rifle. I had one chance in two of saving my life, and luckily I hit the right one; else I wouldn’t be ‘Squire of Upper township’ today.” =========================================================================================================== IRONTON REGISTER Thursday Dec 8 1887 William G. LAMBERT was a member of Co. H 6th Ohio Cavalry, and fought through the war. We asked him for a “narrow escape,” and he told us of getting into a close hitch one time when his horse was shot from under him. “But don’t tell that-that was the horse’s narrow escape.” Then he told of “another incident that made a great impression on his mind; and that was in June 1863, when Lee was driving our army out of Virginia. The cavalry then was kept going in all sorts of dangerous places. One night after a hard day’s ride, and we had drunk our coffee and felt a little rested, four of us took a little recreation in a game of euchre. You know a little game of cards in the army was really an opportunity for rest; it helped the mind to rest and dispelled the anxiety that is certain to torture a fellow if he sits down only to rest. Well, there were four of us-Wilson BRUCE, Gus RECKARD, Tom LAMBERT, and myself. An hour had pleasantly gone thus, for they were all brave soldiers and good company, when Tom Lambert looked up and saw the new moon through the trees. Tom being a little superstitious said, ‘Boys that’s a bad sign seeing the moon through the trees. Something is going to happen to some of us before long.’ Of course we paid no attention to it, but when I think that before a week ended I was the only one of the four left, you won’t wonder that I remember the remark. Two were killed the next day in battle, fighting bravely, and the other died in a week.” “But now, said Mr. Lambert “ I am coming to my ‘naarrow escape.’ You might not think it was a real regulation escape, but then it was one that scared me worse than ever I was scared in my life. It was in 1862, shortly after the battle of Cross Keys. We were moving, I think, from Mt. Jackson towards Strasburg. On that march was the first time I ever stood picket. They stood me out in a little gap of the mountain, half a mile from anybody else, all alone. It was the custom to relieve a picket every two hours, but they didn’t relieve me all night. There I sat on my old horse through that long night, thinking every moment I was being surrounded by rebels. The reb army was at that time coming down the valley and I didn’t know how soon they would strike that gap and scoop me. Consequently, I sat there motionless and as silent as a tombstone. The voice of the owl resounded in my soul. I thought I could hear the bugs crawling over the old logs in the woods. The note of the cricket was as a bugle note of battle. It was a season of intense anxiety and alarm to me. It continued every minute. Now there was a rebel sure, and it turned out to be only a night bird hopping through the branches. I could every once in a while see the form of a man dodging across the road just ahead of me, but it soon resolved itself into a mere image of the brain. I was certain a bushwhacker was creeping through the woods to nab me but the sound of his footsteps turned out to be the heavy dew that had gathered in drops and fell from the leaves. In times of awful silence I could hear the beat of my horse’s heart which would thump the louder as strange noises rose around him. Every cavalry man knows what a splendid guard his horse is. He can trust it better than he can himself. As the silence is broken by the sounds of approaching danger, the heart of the horse beats stronger. Suddenly the animal’s heart thumped like a bass drum and he jumped square about, and faced to the rear, planted his feet firmly, quivered throughout his whole frame and breathed heavily. Then I thought my time had come. I jerked up my old carbine and cocked it ready to fire and peered into the darkness for the approaching foe. I could hear him coming. The poor horse seemed almost dying from fright. He had caught the spirit of his bold rider, and quivered in every fiber. I held my old carbine at aim ready to shoot at the first faint appearance of the fellow who had thus surrounded me. It was a moment of almost fatal alarm. I could now hear a step plainly, and then a deep moaning breath, and then came a ball but it was the bawl of an old cow. My carbine dropped from my nerveless grasp, my old horse grew limber again, and the old cow passed in triumph down the road. That was the narrowest escape I ever had on picket.” =============================================================================================== Ironton Register; December 15, 1887 Samuel SPARLING was a member of Co. G. 4th Ohio Cavalry. He went early into the war with Capt. Edwin ROGERS. We haven't found many of the boys of this gallant regiment, and was consequently delighted when we found that it was in that organization that our old friend, Sam Sparling, did his fighting for the Union. "Well," said he, when we asked him for a Narrow Escape, "the one first that comes into my mind occurred down near Huntsville, Alabama during the campaign of ROSECRANS, in 1863, I believe. Both incidents were of the bushwhacking kind. I was on courier duty, a service that was especially hazardous, and which had to do with bushwhackers. Many of the couriers were killed on their little missions, carrying orders from our part of the army to the other. I remember one time a force of 300 of us started from Huntsville to Bridgeport on the cars. This was not exactly a courier service, but our detachment happened to be with the 300, when we ran into a rebel force of about the same number. The cars were just entering a big cut when the volley from the rebs struck us sorely. It was a very hot place for five minutes. Thirteen of our boys fell, but the rebs soon scampered. I speak of this because it was in the same cut where happened the event which I started out to tell. After being at Bridgeport and on down to the front for sixty days, my detachment of couriers were ordered back to Huntsville on some special duty. I was Sergeant in command of twenty men. We were given a locomotive and two cars, one for our horses and one for ourselves. The distance was twenty seven miles, and the rebs had been bad of late, along that route. An officer said to me : 'Watch closely-you will have trouble going back to Huntsville. Keep your eyes on that gap.' Well, we started. The horses were in the car next to the locomotive, and we were in the last car-21 of us. Both cars were closed. It was about ten miles to the gap, and as we approached we saw no signs of any rebs and really thought the coast was all clear, but just as we struck the entrance to the gap, a party of rebs, at least 200 of them, banged at the train. They seemed to rise out of the ground, but they were there, and there to kill. They fired at the engine and the second car, thinking to kill the engineer and as many of us, whom they supposed to be in the second car, as possible. The engineer, by scrooching flat saved himself but the conductor was filled with bullets, and never knew what hurt him. I heard the boys say that 57 balls went into his back. Nine horses were killed in the second car. As soon as I saw we were attacked, I jumped to the door of the car, where the bullets played around me in the most spirited manner. One ball struck the board just over my head, and about three inches from me. Another ball hit the side of the door where I stood, while another grazed my left hand right there, you see, and, altogether, I felt the escape was pretty narrow. The engineer gave the throttle a big pull and we flew through that gap like young lightning. And yet, I sometimes think that if he had stopped and let us have got a whack at them fellows, we could have whipped them, for we had Spencer carbines and two revolvers apiece; but I was glad to get out of there as it was. In the first ambush that I referred to , when the 300 were attacked , I forgot to relate that Mathew l. MOORE and Elizur C. NEWTON, both from this county, met with narrow escapes, for they were both on top of the car. Elizur didn't exactly escape, for a ball just grazed the top of his head; and I have always believed that right there and then began the trouble which resulted in Elizur's mind being badly deranged. When he came from the roof of the car, his face was as white as a sheet, and he complained that the top of his head burned painfully. Some of these times I might think up a better narrow escape, but I am in a hurry now. Good bye." =============================================================================================================== IRONTON REGISTER 22 December 1887 Some of the work of ”Kilpatrick’s” Cavalry from June 30th to July 1863. A sketch of the “Haps” and “Mishaps” of a dismounted cavalryman in front of “Stuart’ s” Pursuing troopers. by Jos. A. LESAGE , Co. G. 1st West Va. Cay. I being a member of’ ”Kilpatrick’s grand old” division, first brigade, I will give a graphic account of some of our work from Hanover, Pa. to Hagerstown, Md. On the 30th of June, our brigade entered the town of Hanover amid the cheers and good wishes of the citizens, who had prepared for us in the way of decoration and good things to eat, which they gave us freely; that is those who were fortunate enough to be in the advance, but my regiment, the 1st West Va., being one regiment from the rear, made me think I was not going to enjoy any of the delicacies, but my time I thought had at last come to get a portion and I was just in the act of reaching for it when lo! the deafening thunder of artillery was heard in our rear, followed by a shell which exploded in our ranks. Then the citizens as well as delicacies all disappeared in less time than it would take me to relate it. So, you see I did not share the feast, but I shared something else. We were quickly ordered to counter march and charge the enemy. A hand-to-hand fight ensued, and in less than 30 minutes the rebels were driven out of the town. The enemy’s loss was about 25 killed. We captured quite a lot of Johnnies, among the rest a Lieutenant Colonel and also the battle flag of the 13th Va. Cay. So ended the day’s work. The next two days were spent in marching, counter marching and skirmishing with Stuart’s Cay., and on the morning of the 3rd of July, our brigade was marched around the rear of the rebel army, making a circuit of their left wing and around the rear of our own army and placed in position on our extreme left wing. There we remained the rest of the day. On the day following, that memorial Fourth of July that I shall never forget, was devoted to charging “Hood’s” division of rebel troops. One of those charges in particular will long be remembered by the boys of the 1st. West Va. Cay. It was the one that was described by one of the Cincinnati papers (a few days after the battle) as being the event which turned the tide of the contest in our favor. The order to make this charge was given by Gen. Kilpatrick to Gen. FARNSWORTH , commanding our brigade, whereupon he turned to Col. N.P. RICHMOND, commanding 1st. West Va. Cay., and ordered him to take his regiment. We formed close column in squadron. We had not charged more than 400 yards when we came in close quarters with Hood’s division, whose first volley killed our Gen. Farnsworth and Capt. HARRIS Co. F 1st West Va., and wounding several other officers. After the charge, the day was considered won, for just about this time, cheer after cheer went up all along the line, and the word passed from mouth to mouth that the rebel army was retreating. Then followed a lull of the clamor of battle only to be resumed by Heaven’s artillery. The sky had been observed to be lowering, and soon the elements opened forth a tremendous deluge of water which fell, not by drops but by sheets. Then we were called off the field (for it was now getting dark) and taken to the foot of the hill and ordered to hold to our horses and make ourselves as comfortable as possible, but from the way the rain was falling it seemed like a mockery to talk of comfort, but yet I must confess that I did sleep while crouched in a fence corner, and I expect would have slept on had it not been for Kilpatrick’s bugler, who made it his business to call us to horse at 4 o’clock. We were ordered to fall in line and draw rations, for we are going somewhere to do something, but who knows where or what? Not the “soldier boys”, but it is evident the work is not all done yet, for soon as ”orderly” rides up to our commander and hands him our orders. A few minutes more and the bugle sounds to mount. “Tis a relief from standing in the mud and rain. The order is then given “forward march”, and on we go along the foot of the mountain in a southwesterly direction. We now and then make long detours to go around the spurs of the mountain, but yet we can not see what we are after, and by noon we are many miles away from Gettysburg, but on we go at the same rate all afternoon. In the evening our road turns abruptly to the right and we travel a little northwest. After continuing in this direction for some time, we began to ascend the mountain, the road is narrow with rock and brush on either side. The word is passed on from one to another, that we are on our way to ‘“Monterey Gap”, or Monterey Springs. This leads up the mountain to the gap and intersects the road on which Lee’s train was retreating toward the Potomac. Before reaching the gap, the column was called to a halt, and as the regiments had been changed several times in the progress of the march, my regiment (1st West Va.) had been placed in the rear; therefore, we could not well understand the cause of the halt at first, but our ignorance was of short duration for we were soon informed by the sound of musketry and artillery in front of the column that our advance had struck the business end of something. This halt was only for a few minutes, for soon one of Kilpatrick’s aides came riding back along the column and ordered Col. N.P. Richmond of the 1st West Va. Cay., to take his regiment up front. At the time I thought strange of such a move, but all old soldiers learned to obey orders and ask no questions, so on we went at a speedy rate until we reached the head of the column, which was then in the gap. Then for the first time, we fully realized what the trouble was. The rebs had a battery of artillery in position in the gap ready to receive us, and were giving us grape at a lively rate, which caused our officers to think seven times before speaking once. It was now midnight and raining harder than ever. Up to this time several orders had been given to other regiments to charge the rebel battery, but no charging had been done, so our Capt. John A. BYERS of Co G. 1st West Va. volunteered to lead the charge and immediately called for volunteers, wherein a mixed crowd fell in from different companies to the amount of 200. All the while we were getting ready, the rebs were passing us grape from their battery. The darkness was so dense that we could not tell what kind they were but we took them in, all the same. While we were forming up seconds appeared like hours, but at last the order came. "Boys, draw sabres and prepare striking at everything that looks like a mane We seize the battery, it is tumbled over the embankment down the mountainside; then we turn our attention to the foremost end of the train, all the while making more noise than a “pack of wild Indians.” We find it a hot place, as we have it hand-to-hand. Sabres and revolvers are used rather freely. We soon began to take in prisoners. At first we did not know what to do with them, but we soon found Sergeant John McNORTON of Co. G. with a squad of boys who were taking charge of the prisoners and we turned them over to him. The road on which we were charging was a good turnpike and down grade. I being mounted on a good horse and being so enthused that when I got fairly underway I could not realize whether I was riding or flying. I knew I was going through the air at a terrible rate. Thus we went til we reached the foot of the mountain. By this time we could see that day was breaking, which enabled us to realize what we had done. Then the rest of the regiment came up and then the rest of the division. The train was ordered parked and burned. Our work from midnight July 5 to daybreak of the 6th footed up 1800 prisoners, 1800 horses and 200 wagons. The prisoners and horses were taken out over a mountain path, as the rebels had possession of all the roads by which we could make our escape. Therefore our whole division was in a trap and it took generalship on the part of Kilpatrick to get us out, but he proved himself equal to the emergency as he had on other occasions, and we came out all right, not to say anything of the hard work and marching. Once out of the dilemma, the 1st West Va. was ordered to Hagerstown, Md. As we neared the town we came to a halt, and officers held a short consultation, and it was decided to charge the town. lt so happened that Co. G. was in the advance, therefore we took the lead. Lieut. Win. St. CLAIR commanding the company, gave the boys the order to draw sabre and charge. So we went on into the town, but on reaching it found we had company, for we discovered Col. A.J. JENKINS, Brigadier of rebel cavalry, was in town also. After charging up and down through and about town, our regiment formed and marched out. I must here state that our regiment was the rear regiment of the part of our army that was then marching toward Williamsport. After leaving Hagerstown Lt. St. Clair was placed in command of the rear squadron as a support for the section of artillery that was left behind to protect the rear of the column, that was marching on that road. Then Lieut. St. Clair placed me in charge of a squad of men as the extreme rear guard, with orders to remain pretty well back. I was obeying orders by remaining on the edge of the town until the column had moved pretty nearly out of sight, which did not take a great while as they did not march more than a quarter of a mile until they took a road which turned abruptly to the right. By this time they were out of sight, then I started very leisurely, but when I had reached the angle with my squad, I heard a terrible noise in my rear, which caused me to ““tip-toe” in my stirrups in order to make more thorough observations of the threatening tumult, but imagine my feelings when to my surprise I saw Jenkins’ rebel cavalry cutting across the field which formed the angle of the two roads. I took in the situation at a glance. They were trying to cut my little squad off from our support in order to take us in out of the wet. We had either to make a rush for our support or to be rushed to “‘Richmond”, but our faithful horses proved equal to the emergency, for I and my little squad made it to our artillery just in time to get out of the way , and form on the left of the section, for they had seen the whole affair, and had their pieces loaded with double charge of grape and as soon as we had passed the muzzle of the cannons, the rebs were right at our heels, but when the foremost men saw what they had run into, they came to a halt, but it was too late, for when they stopped, it did not take more than a minute for their whole column to jam the road full from fence to fence. Then in a moment more, both pieces went off at once. Reader, can you imagine the spectacle which lay before our eyes. I will not undertake to describe it, but will leave it to your imagination. By the time the smoke had cleared away, the cannons were reloaded with grape, and again the rebels came to meet their fate. Once more they were mowed down like grass, and the 3rd time they came. This time they directed their fire to my side of the road, which told a fearful tale for me, as my good and faithful horse had his heart pierced by a rebel bullet, which caused him to rear straight up, and threw me to the ground-when he fell he was dead. Just think of my situation without a horse, and in the midst of the enemy. But just at this time, the rebels became engaged with the artillery, and I thought it a very good opportunity to start on the home run and not wait for orders. I had not proceeded far, when here came the artillery fairly flying past me. I tried my best to take passage on one of the pieces, but they did not appear to have any use for me, so I was left behind. In a few minutes here came ““Billy” St. Clair. He appeared to be in a hurry, but he said to me, ““Joe I’ll ride up to this fence, and you can get on behind me, and I will try to carry you out.” I accepted his proposition and did get on, but after all I thought we were not going fast enough so I slid off behind and told the Lieutenant to go on and I would try the virtue there was in running on foot. I tell you I did my level best for about four miles. Then I came to where our column had forsaken the road, and turned abruptly to the left across the country. Just as I was about to leave the pike, I heard the sound of a horse’s hoofs behind me. I turned to see what it meant and to my great joy I saw it was a riderless horse coming straight toward me. In a moment I thought just what to do, as it appeared to be a providential means for me to be carried out of my dilemma. So just posted myself squarely in the road, and as he attempted to pass me, I seized him by the bridle and brought him to a standstill, not waiting for a word of command I mounted my new charger. He was a good quiet horse. He did not move while I was mounting, and to my great disappointment I could not get him to move after having mounted. I tried every way to talk him into the notion. I even planted both heels into his ribs, but he was like “‘the Dutchman’s horse at the foot of the hill .“ I then saw what the trouble was, my providence was what we cavalry men used to call a “pegged out” horse, which had gotten under headway on the down grade, and could not stop without some force was brought to bear against him. So I quietly slid off and left him standing, and if he did not change his mind I expect he is standing there yet. I now began to look around to see what would be the next best move, for I was expecting the rebs every moment. That thought caused me to use the best generalship I could command, for I thought I would rather die than be taken prisoner. While slipping through the woods, I saw a house some little distance to my right. I thought I would make my way there as best I could and obtain admittance and remain there until dark. Then, under cover of darkness, I would be guided by the campfires if it should be my good fortune that our army should camp anywhere in the neighborhood. I soon made my way to the house. lt appeared to be large and roomy, and I thought to myself that I had found a haven of rest, but poor mortal man is doomed to disappointment. I approached the front and began to rap, but could not get a reply; so I continued to rap, and after so long a time a woman came to the door and opened it just wide enough to allow me a good view of her nose. Said Ito her, ““please allow me in the house as I am afraid I will be captured if I cannot get to secrete myself somewhere.” She said, ““no sir” and with a slam closed the door in my face, and locked it. I thought i would play a Yankee trick by asking her for a drink of water and when she would open the door to hand me a drink, I would seize the opportunity and rush past her, and once in the house, I did not think she could put me out. This was a thought of a moment. Then I attempted the ruse but it would not work for she answered me from within, that there was a spring down in the field. I saw that I was foiled, but I soon thought of another plan to get the door open. I asked her to please hand me a cup to drink out of but her prompt answer was that there was a gourd down at the spring. I could not enter that house so I resolved to do the next best thing. As it was now sunset it would not be long before I would be hidden by the friendly darkness, so I went in search of the spring, which I soon found, and sure enough there was the gourd. This spring was not in a house as old Virginia springs are, but down in a deep depression deep enough to have hidden a man and horse from view. This proved to be the very place for me at the time for I now felt relieved of the fear of being seen by the enemy. I occasionally crawled up the side of my hiding place to take a view of the surrounding country. Here I remained till it was quite dark. Then I bade adieu to my place of concealment and began to look out for campfires which I thought our boys would build to make coffee and fry “sow belly”, which we did not have time to do since the day before. I did not have time to wait until my expectations were realized. I now saw a light place in the distance, as though it might be the light of campfires. Now another trouble presented itself to my mind, was it the camp of friend or foe. Here again, I thought I would trust to providence, hoping it would turn out more favorable with me this time than it did in the case of my experience with the Providence house. I now set out in the direction of the lights proceeding slowly and cautiously until midnight before reaching the camp, which proved to be that of our boys. Then I drew a long breath of relief Then came the tedious task of finding my own company among a mixed, noisy army, but the task was soon accomplished. The boys were both glad and surprised to see me as they had considered one lost. After the many questions and congratulations common to soldiers on such occasions, I put about to getting me a square meal. This ended the 6th of July. ================================================================================================================== 29 Dec 1887 IRONTON REGISTER "There" said Cyrus PALMER, at the G.A.R. fair, as we leaned over the railing at the relic department, "is a sash I took from a Rebel General TRACY, at the battle of Thompson's Hill, or as some call it, Magnolia Hill, in Mississippi, on the first day of May, 1863."Well, tell me about it", said the Register reporter. "Oh, there was nothing very wonderful about taking it," said Cy.; "you see, we had just charged a battery and captured it. Gen. Tracy was standing between two of the guns, blazing away with his revolver, to the last. He was a brave fellow and paid the cost of his courage. for he fell pierced, I expect, by fifty bullets. I took the sash from his dead body as he lay between the guns, ghastly and bloody." "Was it a big fight I asked the reporter?" "Oh, yes. I belonged to the 22nd Ky. Regiment, Co G. and we were in the 13th army corps, commanded by Gen. MeCLERNAND. He brought on the fight and would have got licked, if it hadn't been for Gen McPHERSON coming up with his corps; and then we whipped them." "Were you in any tight place that day?" "Well yes; the battle was full of tight places for us all, for there were a good many killed; but as to individual experience, there was a little circumstance that I never will forget. It was a pretty warm day, and a battle you know, makes a fellow awfully thirsty. During a little lull in the storm, I thought I would go into the canebrake, a short distance where there was a spring, and get me a drink. Of course, I was not thinking of any danger and only kept my eyes watching for the spring. Pretty soon I leaned to it and, as I had no cup, I threw myself down on my knees and bent forward. in the good old spring fashion, and took a drink of the clear, bubbling water. When I had got my fill, I rose, and just as 1 got my head erect, every hair on it fairly stood up from fear, for right in front of me, only a few paces) was a reb soldier with his gun aimed right at me. I had no time for anything, neither to think nor to act, for I had already given myself up for gone. "Bang!" went the rifle; it seemed like a double shot; I felt the ball bum my forehead as it whizzed by, and I fell backward, not knowing whether to die or live; but just as I fell back, I thought I saw the Johnny tumble also. In a moment I raised my head again and saw, by my side, Corporal LAWHORN, of my company, intent on finding if I was hurt or not and finding I was all right went on to tell me how it happened. He said he was going to get a drink, too and as he neared the spring, saw me stooping to get a drink, and also, the reb opposite waiting til I raised up, so as to shoot, when he, Lawborn, drew a bead on the fellow and banged away, just as the reb shot, and as luck would have it Lawhom beat the reb shooting. We went over there to where the Johnny lay, and found that the ball had struck him fair in the forehead, but had ranged upward, and came out of the top of the head. He didn't quiver after the ball hit him. Now, don't you think that was a close call for me?" "Indeed, it was Cy.; but where is Lawhorn; it occurs to me that you would want to thank that man once a month, or so." "I would like to see him" said Cy.; but the last I heard of him be had turned Methodist preacher and is now down in Arkansas trying to convert the heathen. "Thanks, Cy." "Oh, don't mention it." =================================================================================================================== 05 Jan 1888 IRONTON REGISTER "Were you in the war?" asked the reporter, as he leaned back in one of the cozy chairs of Henry WOODFIN'S parlor and addressed the proprietor himself "Indeed I was" said Henry, "I was in the Fourth U.S. Cavalry, and did my share at he front to sustain the stars and stripes. I fought through the unpleasantness and now enjoy some of the fruits of it." Were you ever in the way of a ball, Henry?" I asked. "Yes, sir; that was at the battle near Jackson, Miss. A bullet caught me on the calf of the leg, but it didn't much more than make it's mark. I got out of the scrape pretty well; only a flesh wound, and I am kind of glad I got that much. It is sort of a token that I was there or thereabouts. But I came near getting in a much worse snap once. "Ah, and when was that?" asked the reporter. "Well, you recollect when SHERMAN'S army made a big commotion down in Mississippi in 1863? My regiment was with him, and did some pretty hard service all the time, being kept to the front to poke out the rebs. Now that kind of experience is always dangerous, for you never know what kind of a trap you are likely to fall into. In their own country the rebs know all about you and you know very little about them until you find out for yourself; and that kind of work the cavalry is expected to do. So, a fellow on a horse out in front, has to keep his hindsight and foresight busy all the time, in order to preserve his own personal liberty, you know, or to keep his body safe from stray minnie balls." "But as I was going to tell you. Our column was directed toward Meriden, Miss. and our regiment was in the front preparing the way. At one place we came to where the road forked in three directions, and I was one of the squad of seven men who were sent out on the left prong to see if there was anything out there we were looking for. I expect we had gone about three miles when we began to observe indications that our visit was not in vain. A straggling reb or two appeared in our front, and they fell back as we exchanged a pop or two, until pretty soon they seemed to grow thicker, and it was not long before we concluded not to venture any further. In fact, we made up our mind that we had found the enemy, and had better go back and tell the Colonel; so we turned our horses' heads to the rear and started back; but we had not gone more than 600 yards before we ran into a rebel force behind us. I then began to think the jig was up; but there was one thing in our favor-it began growing dusk, and it was possible to sneak out of the trap. But the rebs pressed us closely, front and rear, so we struck out sideways, and tried to get past them, but they opposed our designs as quick as we started to execute them. In thus dodging about to try to get past them, we got into a deep hollow or gully, which quite hid us from view, where we waited with long drawn breaths, expecting the rebs would, any minute, come swooping over the hill, and take us in; but we also hoped that darkness would come before the rebs, and let us out. While thus in doubt and jeopardy, we saw the rebs ride past us, and go into camp not far from us. In fact, their picket line was within gunshot of us. Then we made a rush for the road, and oh, how we did gallop, and how the reb bullets did skip about us; but not one of our boys was struck. Once on the road, we galloped back at a furious rate. It was now dark and we ran into our own pickets sooner than we expected; and there was another close call, for our forces thought there was a reb dash on hand, and they rallied under great excitement, so that we had to get out of there and come up with more deliberation. The whole affair was the most exciting event I was in during the war and I was mighty thankful to get out of it." ====================================================================================================