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FIELD and staff.

Lit. Col. Wm. H. Seward, Jr. Chaplain Warham Mudge. ¦ Major E. P. Tatt.
Colonel Joseph Welling.
Surgeon S. A. Sabin. Q. M. H. P. Knowles. Asst. Surgeon D. S. Chamberlain.

0
THE

NINTH NEW YORK

Heavy Artillery

A History op its Organization, Services in the Defenses
of Washington, Marches, Camps, Battles, and Mus
ter- out, with Accounts of Life in a Rebel Pris
on, Personal Experiences, Names and Ad
dresses of Surviving Members, Per
sonal Sketches, and a com
plete Roster of the
Regiment.

BT
ALFRED SEELYE ROE
ot Company A.

" For freedom's hattie, once begun,
Bequeathed by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won." —Byron.

Published by the Author, Worcester, Mass.
1899.

Copyright, 1899,
by
ALFRED SEELYE ROE.

PRESS OF
F. S. Blanchard & Co.,
WORCESTER, MASS.

PREFACE.
This book is in no way a history of the Rebellion. Not the
slightest effort has been made to generalize, but throughout, the
story is confined to the career of one regiment of soldiers. Dur
ing the war more than 2,000 similar organizations did similar
service, but what our regiment did, what our boys suffered,
where they went, what they saw, — all these items make up the
matter of this compilation, for such it is in the most thorough
acceptance of the word.
General Sherman said that no two men ever saw the same
battle in the same light; that their stories, both true, would
differ in essential features; granting this to be so, how much
more diverse must be the recitals of the nearly 3,000 men who
constitute the vast aggregate of the Ninth? While the infantry
regiment, as a rule, was kept together and moved compactly,
our body was divided into three battalions, and these again
were subdivided, oftentimes, into more parts than companies,
till we had squads scattered seemingly over a large part of the
District of Columbia. Even when our departure from the de
fenses came, and for a few days we marched together, we were
soon separated, and an observer for each division was desirable.
Under such circumstances it became necessary to call on all
surviving members of the regiment for such data as they might
possess. Many responded nobly. Some who promised much,
failed to send anything. However, those who did comply sent
enough to occupy the possible time of nearly four years in read
ing and copying.
Along with these letters, written home in war-times, and the
daily record so carefully kept at the time, and preserved since,
access should have been had to the regimental and company
books, along with the pay-rolls now in the keeping of the War
Department in Washington. Some organizations did not com
ply with the demands of the government at the end of the war,
and retained their documents, to this day open to any one car
ing to read; but the great majority of the regiments obediently

4 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
turned in their books, and now when they humbly ask the priv
ilege of referring to the record that they themselves made, they
are told that the books are too precious for ordinary eyes, and
moreover the custodians say they will not even answer ques
tions. They tell us that transcripts have been sent, in our case,
to Albany, and that there these records are accessible ; but these
same transcriptions are full of errors, which might be obviated
by comparison with the Washington data, but we are refused
the opportunity. That these Washington records might be
examined, a request was forwarded to the secretary of war,
endorsed by General William H. Seward, Colonel Anson S.
Wood, at the time commander of the New York department of
the Grand Army of the Eepublic, and by the Hon. Sereno E.
Payne, member of Congress from the 28th District, and also
by Governor Roger Wolcott of Massachusetts. To this seem
ingly reasonable request came the reply that the books referred
to are in the custody of the office, but they can not be consulted
for historical purposes, nor can access to the records be given
to persons not officially connected with the department. A very
long letter accompanied the rufusal, which at the best is only
a dog-in-the-manger proposition. At once the query rises, "Why
are men who have reason to be interested in this record thus
refused?" There is no good answer, but it has been surmised
that the department contemplates a continuation of the Re
bellion Record, already printed at an expense of two and one-
half millions of dollars, picking out what may be supposed to
interest the public. Then there is a possibility that they will
be kept sealed, till the men most interested in them have passed
away; they will become fair fields for the discoverers and ex
plorers of the next century to roam through. Colonel Ains
worth, the officer in charge of the archives, has intimated thai
such publication, as indicated above, may come some day, but
it will be like the Revolutionary rolls now issuing from the
state of Massachusetts years after those who made the record
have ceased to care. An extract from the letter written by the
acting secretary of war to the Hon. Mr. Payne follows :
It is proper to remark, further, that there is no necessity that
Mr. Roe should have access to the records on file here for the
purpose described in the communication of Mr. Kenyon, which
accompanied your letter. A complete record of all the officers
and men of the 9th New York Artillery, as shown by the rolls

PREFACE. 5
on file in this department, was furnished to the adjutant general
of the state of New York in 1888, and it is understood that that
official has already published, or is about to publish, the record
of the regiment. At any rate, nothing additional can be ob
tained from the rolls on file here.
And there is no necessity that he should have access to the
regimental books "so as to note the different orders issued cov
ering the movements of the regiment." Such movements can
not be ascertained with any degree of accuracy from those
books ; but all the important operations in which any regiment
was engaged can be readily ascertained by consulting the vol
umes of the Rebellion Records, which have been published and
widely distributed by this department.
To the foregoing I make this reply, that it is just the matter
not deemed of sufficient importance to be printed that the regi
mental history needs. The world is not concerned about the
9th New York Heavy Artillery in the least. The general
history of the war, with its great leaders and battles, gives what
the reading world desires; we wish to know what the indi
vidual accomplished. The history of a regiment becomes to
that of the war what a local history is to that of the country.
The people of the section from which the regiment was raised
are interested in what their friends did, and it is for the com
piler of the narrative to judge what will entertain them; he is
better qualified to decide than a man though high in office, to
whom the whole collection in his bureau is just an array of facts
and nothing more. It is to be hoped that this unfair condition,
at no distant day, though too late to be of service to us, will
cease to exist, and the men whose deeds are recorded there may,
with their mortal eyes, have the privilege of looking upon the
papers. A campaign to this effect should be inaugurated.
Without the co-operation of many this history had been an
impossibility. Fortunately, there was a long list of whole-
souled, devoted men who said, "Go in and give the project a
start, and we will back you up." To all such my thanks are due,
and they are hereby rendered. An enumeration of all those thus
connected would be difficult, but I must name General William
H. Seward, who has helped in many ways from the start; Col
onels Anson S. Wood, William Wood, and S. B. Lamoreaux,
who by recollection, correction and suggestion have speeded the
task; Major Chauncey Fish, whose untiring zeal has been an
inspiration; Major George W. Brinkerhoff, Captains J. H. Hyde, '

b NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
F. A. Sinclair, and S. A. Howe, whose readiness to respond to
questions has been exceedingly helpful; Adjutant V. A. Ken
yon for invaluable suggestions and data; Lieutenants S. F.
Harris, E. L. Huntington, and J. D. Knapp, who furnished valu
able data from their diaries; G. H. Alpeter, John Colligan, J. H.
De Voe, W. G. Duckett, E. P. Dunning, C. A. Ford, O. J. Frost,
H. P. Howard, S. E. Hurtubise, A. K. Long, Charles McDowell,
J. H. Marvin, R. Morehouse, F. N. Parish, L. B. Rice, Steph.
Reeves, C. L. Shergur, A. E. Stacey, Frank Tallman, F. A. Tall
man, all of whom by diaries, letters, or memory supplied much of
the matter herein recorded ; the families of Surgeon S. A. Sabin,
Captain P. R. Freeoff, Chaplain Warham Mudge, Lieutenant B.
J. Yard, Sergeant N. G. York, Sergeant H. K. Austin, and
Walter Deuel, for painstaking compilations and answers to
questions; outside of the regiment and its immediate connec
tions thanks are hereby tendered to Captain George E. Davis
of the 10th Vermont for valuable suggestions; to Chaplain E.
M. Haynes of the same regiment for the use of maps of Win
chester and Cedar Creek battlefields; to Major E. Y. Golds
borough of Frederick, Md., for assistance; to Colonel Frederick
Phisterer, assistant adjutant general of New York, with Mr. W.
A. Saxton of his staff for most courteous and cordial attention
and aid, and, finally, my obligations are acknowledged to Col
onel John D. Billings of Cambridge, Mass., author of "Hard
tack and Coffee," for the use of numerous cuts from that valu
able publication.
Anticipating the criticism of some that no set rule has been
followed in the size of portraits, I would state that the rule of
necessity has been the only one heeded. Where a cut was al
ready in existence, as those of myself and sundry others, the
same has been used. Where new ones were made, only the best
results possible were desired. A later portrait of Colonel Snyder
was diligently but unsuccessfully sought. Should one ever be
obtained I pledge myself to send an engraved copy to every pur
chaser of this book.
Comrades ! The History, such as it is, is now yours. Its prep
aration has taken the time of nearly five years. I am not sorry
that I have done the work, but I would not undertake such a
task again. Read it carefully and, if it pleases you, give me the
benefit of your approbation. If you find faults, as you must
inevitably, criticise as sparingly as possible, remembering that

PREFACE. /
I have written with no axe to grind, no debts to pay, with no
malice to satisfy, having one object only, viz., the perpetuation
of the memory of our regiment, the 9th New York Heavy Ar
tillery.
ALFRED S. ROE.
Worcester, Mass., September, 1899.

CORRECTIONS.
Page 58, 19th line, Surgeon Dwight S., not D. W. Chamber
lain.
Page 76, 2d line, for Frank W., read Frank A. Sinclair.
Page 79, 5th line, read Ninth, not North.
Page 120, 23d line, Colonel Tompkins, not Thompson.
Page 124, 1st line, for Colonel Harvey, read Henry.
Page 129, 2d line, R., not R. E. Burton.
Page 248, 1st line, Andrew S., not John S. Hall.
Page 320, Lieutenant Burton did not escape.
Page 459, C. W. Blanchard enlisted in 1863.

CONTENTS.
PAGE.
Chapter I. Second Wayne and Cayuga Regiment, 9
Chapter II. From Auburn to Washington, 19
Chapter HI. Through Washington, 25
Chapter IV. Camp Life and Road-making, 31
Chapter V. Camp Nellie Seward and Fort Kearney, 36
Chapter VI. Camp Morris and the 9th Heavy Artillery, 44
Chapter VII. Life in the Forts, 50
Chapter Vni. Fort Foote, 57
Chapter IX. Soldiering in the Defenses, 66
Chapter X. A General Shaking-up, 77
Chapter XI. Reaching the Front, 85
Chapter XII. From the North Anna Through Cold
Harbor, 91
Chapter XIII. From Cold Harbor to Petersburg, 107
Chapter XIV. To and Through Monocacy, 121
Chapter XV. Retreat and Pursuit, 135
Chapter XVI. The Valley and Winchester, 142
Chapter XVII. The 3d Battalion from Petersburg to
Harrisonburg, 157
Chapter XVIII. The Valley and Cedar Creek, 163
Chapter XIX. From Cedar Creek to Petersburg, 194
Chapter XX. Petersburg, Through March, 1865, 206
Chapter XXI. Breaking the Lines, and Sailor's Creek, 223
Chapter XXII. The Danville Raid, 240
Chapter XXHI. Richmond, Washington, and Home, 251
Chapter XXIV. Those Who Were Left Behind, 264
Chapter XXV. Miscellaneous, 273
Chapter XXVI. Prisoners of War, 307
Chapter XXVII. Veteran Association, 367
Chapter XXVIII. Personal Experiences of the Civil
War, 390
Chapter XXIX. Personal Sketches, 409
Chapter XXX. Regimental Roster, 453

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
CHAPTER I.
Second Cayuga and Wayne Regiment.
What happy fate was it that associated these two melodi
ously named counties in the 25th Senatorial District, and thus
made them parents of two as devoted organizations as from
1861 to 1865 went forth from the Empire State? Of the sixty-
one names that make up the county appellations of New York
we, who were fortunate enough to have lived among the drift
hills and in the fertile valleys of this part of the state, count
Cayuga and Wayne, if not the most beautiful, at least as lovely
as any of the list which, from Albany to Yates, we were wont
to repeat concertedly in our schoolboy days.
The first word recalls the lake of the same name — Auburn,
ever loveliest village of the plain ; the Indians whose tribal ap
pellation was taken for that of the county, and above all the
chief of the same tribe, whose melancholy epitaph every one
who has visited Fort Hill cemetery readily calls to mind.
"Who is there left to mourn for Logan?" hallows all the sur
roundings; the second name, covering territory once a part of
the first, reminds us of that brave Revolutionary soldier who
proclaimed himself ready to storm h — 1 if Washington would
but plan the attack. From Stony Point to his final resting-place
on the shores of Erie, was a weary march for Mad Anthony
Wayne, but those who live under the sound of his great name
falter not in their admiration for his vigor and courage.
To these regions came, after the Revolution, people of kin
dred birth and rearing, and for a similar purpose. Prosperity
attended them. Free and independent themselves, they had
little respect for a system that proposed to enrich one class at
the expense of another. Nowhere in this broad land were
there more or more willing laborers on the Underground Rail
road. In Auburn lived for many years William H. Seward,
the author of the Irrepressible Conflict, who, at a latter date.

10 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
through an assassin's knife, was to seal his devotion to his prin
ciples with his blood, and whose son, bearing his own honored
name, was to be the esteemed leader of one of the regiments
raised in this favored locality. Thus placed and thus reared,
what wonder that the sons of Cayuga and Wayne early re
sponded to the tocsin of battle! Indeed, it is claimed that
men were enrolled in Auburn, eager for the fray, long before
the first gun had been fired upon Sumter. The first call for
troops found our fathers and brothers ready, and while no
regiment at first hailed entirely from this section, yet by com
panies, squads and individuals they found their way very early
into the ranks of war. Cayuga sent her earliest enlisted men
into the 19th Infantry, afterwards the 3d [Light] Artillery,
and the 75th; into the 8th, 10th and 11th Cavalry; the 1st
Independent Battery, the 3d and 4th Artillery and the 50th
Engineers; those from Wayne were more widely scattered,
through the 13th, 17th, 27th, 33d, 67th, 98th and 105th In
fantry; 8th, 10th and 15th Cavalry and the 3d Artillery. The
75th was called the "Cayuga Regiment," but Wayne and Seneca
made up a part of its numbers.
When, July 2d, 1862, President Lincoln called for 300,000
additional men, the yeasty or frothy days of soldier making
had passed. Bull Run, Ball's Bluff and the Seven Days' Fight
had sent home object lessons to disillusion any and all who
had thought that war was all glory. The South had evidenced
sufficient strength to warrant the calling for three years of
service. Under such circumstances, men knew that they were
not entering upon a holiday picnic. Apparently the majority
counted the cost, and with open eyes took the momentous step
which entered them in a race with death.
Up to this date, individual effort had seemed sufficient to
raise the regiments required, but now regular, systematic work
was necessary. The senatorial district appeared to be a good
basis of organization, and for the 25th a War Committee was
appointed whose chairman was Major William C. Beardslev
and William H. Seward, Jr., was secretary. Already talk of a
draft was heard, and it was dreaded alike by two classes viz •
those who feared they themselves might be chosen, and those
who thought the necessity an aspersion on patriotism. To ward
off this infliction, New York struggled zealously. Her quota
of 59,705 men was exceeded by 18,199 recruits. The proud

THE WM. H. SEWARD MONUMENT, AUBURN, N. Y.
Seward Homestead in background.

SECOND CAYUGA AND WAYNE REGIMENT. 11
distinction of sending nearly half a million soldiers into the
War of the Rebellion was not gained without arduous labor.
Eloquent speakers descanted upon love of country, saying, "Go
to defend it." But the newly enlisted man more effectively
said to his neighbor, "Come, go with me." It was a never-to-
be-forgotten whirlwind of patriotism which swept through our
counties in July and August of 1862. Special meetings of the
respective boards of supervisors were held to further the
cause. The Hon. E. B. Morgan of Auburn, a recent member
of Congress, and ever a devoted friend of humanity, was con
spicuous in his efforts to start the enlistment ball in motion.
The Hon. T. M. Pomeroy, also of Auburn, then member of Con
gress, gave his entire time to furthering this object. Through
out both counties, every public hall and school-house resounded
with pleas to help save the country by immediate enlistment.
Flags floated in every breeze, as they had never done before,
and the air was vibrant with the words, sung to "Patsey"
Gilmore's music:
"We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more,"
Enlistments were not the results of sudden freaks, nor spasms
of love of country, but with a full sense of the peril incurred,
men of all vocations thronged to the enrollment stations and
entered their names. That they took their lives in their hands
they knew full well, and the sequel showed how deep was their
devotion. Better material never essayed the soldier role than
that which went out in the summer and fall of 1862.
The meeting of interested citizens, held in Port Byron July
12th, took action which resulted in the formation of the two
regiments, the 111th and the 138th, that look to Cayuga and
Wayne for paternity. To Joseph Welling, Esq., of Lyons, was
proffered the honor of calling public meetings to stimulate re
cruiting, and, on his declination, the same was offered to Jesse
Segoine, who became the first colonel of the 111th, or the
first Cayuga and Wayne regiment. Had the offer to our
Colonel Welling been accepted, in what changed relations
might the names upon the Roll of Honor appear!
East and west of us, in Syracuse and Rochester, there had
been regimental headquarters to whose numbers our counties
had contributed, and distinguished honors had come to those
who had led the organizations there formed. Now the happy

12 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
thought of raising regiments by senatorial districts was to give
to us similar distinction. Henceforth, the two counties, be
tween Onondaga and Monroe, were to claim and to hold their
own. Colonel Segoine received his authority to raise a regiment
July 19th, and before the month was ended it was evident
that the district would readily fill another. Accordingly,
Auburn parties visited Albany and obtained from Governor
Edwin D. Morgan authority to organize a second regiment.
The order is as follows :
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS, STATE OP NEW YORK,
ADJUTANT GENERAL'S OFFICE. Albany, August 8, 1862.
Special Orders No. 419.
The Regimental Camp established in the 25th Senatorial District
is hereby continued, and a second Regiment of Infantry is hereby
authorized to be raised in said district. General Jesse Segoine,
Colonel of the Regiment now quartered there, will act as Commandan
of the Camp. By order of the Commander-in- Chief.
 (Not signed.)
Adjutant General.
Of the original 101 men of Company A, more than three-
fourths had put down their names before the date of this order.
Subsequent Captain, then First Sergeant, Chauncey B. Fish of
Company B had enrolled himself August 1st. Even while
this delegation from the War Committee was on its way to
Albany, August 7th, Captain James W. Snyder, from the town
of Wolcott, drove into' Auburn with his would-be soldiers, re
ceiving such an ovation as was afterwards paid to those who
came home from the war. That was before the days of electric
railways and cross-country railroads, so the trip was made in
wagons, drawn for the most part by four-horse teams, and
though the way was long and dusty, it was memorable alike
to those who rode and to those who beheld. The array was
escorted through the principal streets, and citizens vied with
each other to make the reception what Cayuga ought to offer
to Wayne. However, for their own convenience their coming
was a trifle previous, since the 111th was still in camp, and

SECOND CAYUGA AND WAYNE REGIMENT. 13
temporary quarters were sought in hotels, private houses, un
occupied floors of business blocks, and, on the authority of
General Seward, one or two patriots slept in empty dry goods
boxes in the street. At any other time than this, other reasons
than crowded quarters, very likely, would be assigned for the
latter lodgings.
Either pure patriotism or fear of the draft was doing excel
lent work in central New York. At a single meeting in Red
Creek, forty men signed the roll, and in two weeks, from July
25th, 143 enlisted in this village. The future Colonel Snyder
did telling work. At a war meeting in Rose July 27th, ad
dressed by the Rev. A. M. Roe, then of Oneida county, but
formerly of Rose, the assembled farmers subscribed $100 to
help on the cause.
As the 111th did not depart for the front till August 21, it will
be seen that for some time furloughs home were not very diffi
cult to obtain. To go home and to remain there till directed to
report in Auburn, was the welcome order to many a boy to whom
enlistment began to have a serious flavor. It is safe to say
that never in his life had that same home seemed dearer than
when he contemplated the possibilities of an everlasting fare
well. One young man's story may serve as a picture of many
experiences: "I enlisted Sunday, about 5 o'clock in the after
noon. I hitched the bay horse to my sulky at 9 P. M. and
started for Auburn, which place I reached at 1 A. M. the next
morning. That twenty-seven miles' ride in the night can never
be forgotten. The leaving of wife and little boys and parents,
with all that I had held dear, made me, several times, pull the
reins and say, 'I can't go,' then the thoughts of rebels, march
ing northward towards those same loved ones, would come into
my head and I shouted, 'Go on, Jack,' and I was duly mustered
in." Had all the fervid words uttered in Cayuga and Wayne, dur
ing these enlistment months of July and August, been pre
served, while they would be found freighted with intensest
loyalty, readers of to-day would be vastly more interested in
what the soldiers did than in what their prompters said. Every
township and almost every calling had its representatives, thus
confirming the words of Count de Rochambeau, our French
ally in the Revolution: "In America, men of every trade are
soldiers, but none are soldiers by trade."

14 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
On the departure of the 111th August 21st, Camp Halleck
was immediately organized, and the men were called in. Col
onel Welling assumed command in accordance with the fol
lowing order from Albany:
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS, STATE OP NEW YORK,
ADJUTANT GENERAL'S OFFICE, Albany, August 12, 1862.
Special Orders No. 425.
Captain Joseph Welling is hereby appointed Colonel of an additional
Regiment of Volunteers to be organized in the 25th Senatorial Dis
trict of this State under the call of July 2d, 1862. The Commission to
be issued on the completion of the regiment.
Colonel Welling will without delay establish his headquarters at
the city of Auburn and proceed in the organization of the Regiment
in conformity with the provisions of General Orders No. 52 from this
Department. By order of the Commander-in-Chief, THOMAS HILLHOUSE,
Adjutant General.
The spot selected for the camp on Moravia street, south of
Owasco creek, did long and valuable service, during the war
period, as a mustering place for regiments and recruits. It was
central, conveniently reached, and thousands went thence to
the field of strife, many never to return. When last visited
there were no traces of the ancient camp, but thistles and
other weeds grew rank over the area where erstwhile, begin
ning soldiers learned their' rudiments and dreamed of glory to
be won in coming days. So near the city, it is not a little
strange that building advances have not covered these acres
with the abodes of men. They are still bare, and he who will
may sit upon the enclosing fence, possibly a war relic, and
moralize on the mutability of human plans. By far the greater
number of those who here essayed the fortunes of war have
ere this, been mustered into another life.
Camp "Halleck" was a tribute in name to Henry Wager
Halleck, an Oneida county man, a graduate of West Point
then gaining some distinction in Washington circles as "Old
Brains," but he never won, in the Cabinet nor in the field, the
honors that his admirers would have been glad to see him
wear. However, places must have names, and the first camp

SECOND CAYUGA AND WAYNE REGIMENT. 15
of our regiment was thus designated. Hither repaired the boys
and men from Cayuga and Wayne. The ranks were practically
full when the camp was formed, and it is safe to say that no
similar organization, in the Empire State, ever had a more
spontaneous nor enthusiastic raising than this of ours.
The Field Officers and Staff were:
Colonel, Joseph Welling of Wayne.
Lieutenant Colonel, William H. Seward, Jr., of Cayuga.
Major, Edward P. Taft, Wayne.
Adjutant, William R. Wasson, Cayuga.
Quartermaster, Henry P. Knowles, Wayne.
Surgeon, Samuel A. Sabin, Wayne.
Chaplain, Warham Mudge, Wayne.
The first ten companies, ready August 26th, were as follows :
FROM WAYNE COUNTY:
Go. A, Captain, James W. Snyder ; First Lieut., James H. Hyde ;
Second Lieut., Rufus M. Campbell.
Go. B, Captain, Truman Gregory; First Lieut., Nelson F. Strick
land; Second Lieut., William E. Greenwood.
Go. D, Captain, Charles L. Lyon; First Lieut., Anson S. Wood;
Second Lieut., Samuel C. Redgraves.
Go. G, Captain, William Wood; First Lieut., William Hawley;
Second Lieut., Seymour Woodward.
Go. H, Captain, John L. Crane; First Lieut., Tunis Vosburg;
Second Lieut., Daniel B. Harmon.
FROM CAYUGA COUNTY:
Go. G, Captain, Loyal W. Alden; First Lieut., Harvey W. Fol-
lett; Second Lieut., Marshall W. Burke.
Go. E, Captain, Selah Corn well; First Lieut., Seth F. Swift;
Second Lieut, George C. Stoyell.
Go. F, Captain, Charles Burgess; First Lieut., Geo. W. Bacon;
Second Lieut., Sullivan B. Lamoreaux.
Go. I, Captain, Hugh Hughes; First Lieut., Orson Howard;
Second Lieut., Philip R. Freeoff.
FROM CAYUGA AND WAYNE :
Go. K, Captain, Irvin Squyer; First Lieut., Dennis E. Flynn;
Second Lieut., George P. Knapp.

16 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The foregoing represent the organization as affected in Au
burn. Later, when the regiment became the 9th Heavy Artil
lery, two new companies were added, as follows :
Go. M, Captain, John D. Numan; First Lieuts., Melanchthon
W. Brown and William DeW. Pringle; Second Lieuts.,
Robert C. Worthington and Edwin J. Clark.
Organized at Lockport as the 22d Independent Battery, it
was principally a Genesee county company. Its final disposi
tion, as is seen, was a union with the 9th.
Go. L, Captain, Frank A. Sinclair; First Lieuts., S. Augustus
Howe and Joseph W. Jewhurst; Second Lieuts., Wil
liam W. Sinclair and Charles W. Squyer.
This company, made up largely of veterans, was recruited
in various parts of the state, but to a considerable extent in
Oswego county.
Camp life in Auburn or Camp Halleck differed in no essen
tial respect from that in scores of similar places in other por
tions of the country. To a considerable extent, officers and
men were beginners together. While Colonel Welling had the
title of captain from some local company, Lieut. Colonel Seward
had been a private in the Auburn Cadets. Major Taft and
Lieut. Wood had served in the militia, and very likely other
officers had had more or less of similar service. There were
no West Point attainments to which the greenness of newly
enlisted boys was almost criminal. Alike learners, all had
charity for the defects of each. Field, line, file, and the ranks
had need of close study of Casey's Tactics, and nearly every
man tried to do his best. Military rigor in the maintenance of
camp was not only distasteful, but, to the minds of many of
these lively country boys, quite unnecessary. Except for the
temporary restraint of school days, there had been few days
in their lives when they could not come and go when and
where they chose. Hence, guards, passes and countersigns
were not over-popular. Indeed, on one occasion, September 5th
just one week before the departure of the regiment a barn
was consumed by fire in plain view of the camp. The boys,
many of them, were not used to conflagrations like this, and
those who were had been accustomed to run when they liked.

SECOND CAYUGA AND WAYNE REGIMENT. 17
In spite of guards, they went, pell-mell, to the creek which
intervened between them and the fire. Nothing but a thorough
drenching brought some of them to their senses, and a realiza
tion that they had flagrantly violated the rules of camp. The
guards had threatened to shoot with their unloaded guns, but
were only laughed at for their pains. In fact, all things con
sidered, said guards are entitled to considerable credit, in that
they did not run also. The boys, however, were culpable, and
before morning they began to comprehend the nature of their
offense. The officers held a council on the matter, but finding
fully one-third of all those in camp to be offenders, it was con
cluded to strain the quality of mercy and to let them off for
this time. This wise conclusion was all the more readily
reached in that punishment for so large a number was difficult
to devise. As an offset, it is chronicled that certain soldiers,
on their very first Sunday in camp, went to the Episcopal
Church, where the Sewards attended, and on that same Sunday
organized a Bible class with twelve members. Stephen Reeves,
of Company B, was chosen teacher, and the class had regular
meetings till active service in the field began. Their first les
son was the second chapter of Matthew. Apparently only the
"begat" recital prevented their taking the first chapter, for it
is evident they set out with the intention of going through the
New Testament if the war lasted long enough.
Perhaps no more ludicrous incident is recalled of the stay in
Camp Halleck than that on parade, when Lieut. Colonel
Seward's horse, like many of the soldiers, just from the farm,
deliberately lay down, so frightened was he at the firing of a
cannon. Even military dignity could not restrain the risibles
of amused beholders.
Camp regimen and lodging had their day and night of
wonder. The secrets of his prison-house, which the ghost of
Hamlet's father wisely withheld, could not have been more
astonishing than those of the cook-house, whose mysteries few
ever had the temerity to penetrate. The preparation of food
in large quantities for so great an array of eaters, inevitably
produced conditions quite repulsive to boys who, in the main,
had known only "mother's cooking," but even they, in time,
grew used to "salt horse," potatoes with "skins on," and the
entire absence of side dishes, which so bountifully bespread
the home table. Crockery and cutlery were not of an extrav-
2

18 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
agant nature, and men soon learned how many seeming neces
sities there were without which they could get along nicely.
No feathers nor spring mattresses wooed the drowsy god's
embrace, nor were there sheets of snowy whiteness to receive
wearied bodies. Three-tiered bunks, with not over-generous
supplies of straw, covered with blankets, soon proved a bed
on which the sweetest rest could be found. So readily on neces
sity do we part with the veneer of civilization! The very wisest
of philosophers do not yet know when we live nearest to
nature's heart.
There were amenities in those days worthy of record. Thus,
on August 30, Lieut. S. F. Swift, of Company E, was made the
recipient, on dress parade, of a sword by his parents and wife.
The Hon. Christopher Morgan made the presentation, and it
was received for the modest officer by N. T. Stephens, Esq.
The same day saw sword, belt, etc., given to Captain Burgess,
of Company F, by the North Street Methodist Church, and on
the following Sunday, the Sunday-school gave to him, the retir
ing superintendent, a Bible. On this same Sunday Captain
Squyer was presented with a sword by his fellow citizens of Ira.
Monday Lieut. Col. Seward was similarly remembered. Septem
ber 4th Company I indicated its appreciation of Captain Hughes
by giving him a sword ; Lieut. Hyde received his weapon from
the ladies of Huron and Wolcott, and on the 10th came the
presentation of regimental colors.
On the 8th of September all the companies, except Companv
B, were mustered into the service of the United States for three
years by Captain H. DeB. Clay, of the 14th U. S. Infantrv.
Company B, with the field and staff, were mustered the fol
lowing day, but it was not till the 29th day of the month that
the organization was officially designated as the 138th Infantrv.
The twenty-four hours immediately following the muster-in
appear to have been particularly lively, for again the careful
chronicler states that police and guard duty kept him up all
night. Possibly exhilaration incident to new obligations was
responsible for the pandemonium that ensued. "Many ran the
guard; the sutler's quarters were attacked; the barber-shop
was burned; one man was put in the dungeon for inciting a
mob against the cook-house. His fellows pulled the staple and
let him out. An officer, high in command, chased a private
around the camp, swearing at him and even threatening to

FROM AUBURN TO WASHINGTON. 19
shoot him. The men were paid, but not in full, two dollars
each being retained to be distributed later; reason, a lack of
small bills. Citizens were driven from the camp, all of whose
approaches were thronged with people. At dress-parade the
men were told that no orders to move had been received. Dur
ing the night a party of men went out after water. While away
the guard was changed and the new one refused to let the men
in,who, nothing loth, proceeded to the city for accommodations."
Thus the story runs on, trivial, possibly, to-day, but exciting
and interesting then. A peculiar entry is made in one diary
to the effect that, September 10th, ladies of the city fix pockets
on the soldiers' coats, certainly ministering angels then. Dur
ing all of these days in early September, rumors of departure
were rife. Uniforms had been distributed and arrangements
made to leave on the 10th and again on the 11th, and on the
later date citizens sent in a lunch for the men. This proved
to be the last day in Camp Halleck for the 138th New York
Volunteer Infantry, or the second Cayuga and Wayne regi
ment.

CHAPTER II.
From Auburn to Washington.
The morning of Friday, September 12th, came early, for the
camp was roused at 4 o'clock. This was to be the day of de
parture, so long expected and so often deferred. Few thought
of it as an unlucky day, since the inherent desire for a change, of
whatever kind, overbore all ancient superstitions. Still it was
8 o'clock before the extra train drew out of the city. Enlisted
to its maximum, officers and men were justly exultant over the
prospect. The first intentions had been to go south by the
way of Harrisburg, but possible troubles on the Northern Cen
tral railroad rendered the New York city route preferable.
If the old station in Auburn could only talk, what a recital it
might give of leave-takings beneath its somewhat dingy cover
ing. Hearts in the nearby state's prison* could not be sadder,

*The main entrance to New York's largest prison, where several
thousands of convicts are confined, is just opposite the railroad sta
tion.

20 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
though theirs were sad enough, than those which beat with
extra emphasis as the hasty good-by kiss was here snatched
and hands were finally shaken. Friends, to remain in the now
shadowed homes, strained their eyes for a last glimpse of those
whom the iron horse bore swiftly away. The latter, though
hurrying to scenes of toil and danger, were still to have their
minds absorbed by new sights and new interests. The depart
ing ones were to act, and so be diverted from absorbing
thought, but those at home, with the monotonous round of
daily duties, were to think and think — to consume their souls
with carking care, and thus, with wrinkled brows and whitened
locks, to grow old before their time.
All this is retrospective. At the time itself the long train
sped away towards Syracuse; Oneida was reached at noon,
where some may have lunched, but cooked rations of bread and
meat were distributed through the train. Again the boys
felt the restraint supposed to be necessary when the sovereign
American became a soldier. Lest the freely enlisted man
should leave the cars without asking, the doors were locked,
but budding battle heroes were not to be thus deprived of
freemen's privileges, and they proceeded with improvised tools
to unscrew the locks and to lay them one side, though the way
to escape, thus opened, does not seem to have been utilized.
As Americans, they breathed more freely when they knew that
they were not under lock and key. If those boys used their
eyes and their memories as they rode through central New
York, there was abundant opportunity to burnish up their
country's early history. In Rome they might have seen the
site of old Fort Stanwix, repeatedly besieged by hostile foe
the last time during the Revolution. At Oriskany, toward the
south, some person might have pointed out the place where
General Herkimer bravely died in 1777, doing his best to with
stand the Indians' savage assaults, and so advance the Ameri
can cause. Utica could show the site of Fort Schuyler, and as
the train swept along the banks of the beautiful Mohawk did
not more than one boy, with music in his soul, sing :
"Oh, sweet is the vale, where the Mohawk gently glides,
On its clear, winding way to the sea."
At Schenectady, sharp eyes might have caught glimpses of
Union College, where still presided Dr. Eliphalet Nott, who

FROM AUBURN TO WASHINGTON. 21
more than forty years before, had affixed his name to the di
ploma of William H. Seward, now secretary of state, and the
father of our young lieutenant colonel. After all, it is proba
ble that Old Sledge, rather than old places and events, absorbed
the regimental mind, and pictured cards, rather than pano
ramic nature, filled the soldier's fancy till, at nightfall, the
train rolled into Albany, the capital of the state.
To dine at the Delavan House in those days was, through
out the Empire State, considered pretty near the climax of
luxury, and just this honor was to be done the 138th, at the
expense of the good people of this ancient Dutch city, though
it must be stated that the supper was not served in course, nor
a la carte. A fall of rain rendered the event somewhat moist,
and standing in the mud was not over pleasant to the compa
nies that had to bide a bit for those who ate first. However,
everything comes to him who waits, and, finally, through the
back door, our boys filed into the capacious dining-room, were
regaled with sandwiches and coffee, and their canteens were
filled with water. To banquet a thousand men, even in this
simple manner, was no trifling task, and some, towards the end,
had to eat rather hurriedly, but all marched away through
the mud and the rain to the ferry, for this was long before
the days of Hudson river bridges. It is claimed that Colonel
Welling found freight cars in waiting to take his men to New
York. To this the colonel stoutly objected, saying that his
soldiers should not leave their native state like cattle, and that
unless better cars could be found he would camp right there.
His persistence prevailed, and railroad resources soon devel
oped better facilities for transportation.
At 10 o'clock P. M. the regiment was again in motion, but
even cards yield to the influence of Morpheus, and beds are
made upon the floor, space there for the same being found,
since the seats were arranged around the sides of the cars.
Only in dreams are seen Sir Henry Hudson and his ship, the
Half Moon; West Point, the nursery of heroes, and the Pali
sades, rivaling in grandeur the shores of the Rhine. Were the
games of Rip Van Winkle's bowlers a hundredfold louder, all
their din had been drowned in the noise of our train as it
swept through the Catskills. Tarrytown scarcely evoked a
single memory of Revolutionary cow-boys, for the soldiers
slumbered on till, at daybreak, New York was reached.

22 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Thereupon followed on this, the 13th day of September, a short
march to City Hall park, where quick Wayne and Cayuga eyes
detected the printing offices of the Times and Tribune, papers
that, in many homes, were rated next to the Bible. Some of
the boys fully expected to see Horace Greeley step forth, white
overcoat and all, to receive them. To some, the barracks were
not agreeable, and the open air was preferred as a camping-
place to the somewhat suspicious interior, where, to put it mild
ly, excessive neatness did not reign. At 9.15 breakfast had not
been served to at least some of these early rising boys from
the country, whose gastric condition may readily be imagined.
With mingling of bitter and sweet, the day passed till, at 6
P. M., objectors to the first proffered barracks were marched to
better ones opposite the Astor House, now the site of New
York's great post-office. There were all sorts of ways to pass
the time; one writer says he spent the day at the Astor House,
but had to go on guard at night. Surely his purse must have
been supplied from some other source than his soldier's wages,
a whole month of which would not have paid three days' living
in what was then America's most famous hostelry. Central
Park was just beginning its career of splendor, and many
sought its beautiful walks. Barnum's show was close by, and it
had many a visitor from the 25th Senatorial District, to whom
Barnum's name had long been synonymous with all that was
curious and wonderful. There was no trouble in passing a day
in New York, if only one could get out.
Sunday found the regiment ready to go or stay, as pleased
the authorities. Among other diversions of the day, a party
of fifteen, under charge of a sergeant, was made up to cross
over to Brooklyn to hear Henry Ward Beecher preach in his own
Plymouth pulpit. He had just returned from his vacation and
the uniformed visitors were promising themselves a brilliant
treat, when, in the midst of the preacher's prayer, they were
summoned by special messenger, Lieut. Greenwood of Company
B, and ordered to return at once to camp, for the regiment was
about to move. So out they went and hurried back to City
Hall park, but not to march away, only to receive the remainder
of their military outfit. Their guns were the obsolete Belgian
rifles with sabre bayonet, and, with the accompanying cartridge-
boxes, they became soldiers indeed. But they were not to be
deprived of a sermon, though he was not Beecher who talked.

FROM AUBURN TO WASHINGTON.

23

Chaplain Mudge here preached his first sermon in camp, and
was followed by Capt. Gregory of Company B, also a clergyman.
A strangei who had been in the South also tried to make up
the Beecher loss, and small hymn-books, then given out, served
as tangible mementoes of the day and hour. Company B's
Bible class had a short meeting, and the evening diversion was
an address by Parson Brownlow of Tennessee in the barracks.
As many chroniclers mention his remarks in close connection
with their recollections of Barnum, it is not difficult to infer
what kind of impression the sulphurous sentiments of the
Knoxville preacher made on his Cayuga and Wayne listeners.
No one doubted his intense loyalty and thorough bravery,

r~^

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
THE UNION VOLUNTEER SALOON.

though some must have recalled sundry punishments, received
in their boyhood, for using language far less emphatic. From
the foregoing, it must not be inferred that all members of the
138th were on church attendance bent, for there were those who
were given to excessive imbibings at gardens, more or less re
mote, and whose resultant condition rendered their return more
peremptory and also more noisy than that of the men who had
endeavored to remember the fourth commandment.
Monday morning begins at 4.30 with some of these men, but
it is fully half past ten before they march to the Hudson river
and cross by ferry to Monmouth Point, N. J. Thence by rail
the regiment is again flying southward. Western New York
eyes note a wide difference in the respective localities. Huckle-

24

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

berry bushes, scrub-oak and pines take the place of more stately
trees in their own more favored section. In this barren land,
two misguided men desert, and when their captain reports the
same, he is consoled with the reply, "Let the d— d fools go, they
will have the worst of it." All the afternoon and evening are
passed in their New Jersey ride, and it is nearly midnight when
Pennsylvania's chief city is reached. But it made no difference
in Philadelphia at what hour soldiers arrived, early or late,
from the 27th of May, 1861, till the last weary boy in blue had
returned to his northern home, the good people of this City of
Brotherly Love fully exemplified their name. Nearly 1,200,-

« , ifl

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission. THE COOPER SHOP.

000 men, first and last, had occasion to call down blessings
on the heads of these women and men who fed in their Cooper
Shop and Union the hungry brave. Note the bill of fare,
"Bread and butter, ham and cold beef." Is there any wonder
that many a boy entered in his diary, after his account of the
feast, the words, "First class" ? The northern soldier who does
not remember the hospitality of Philadelphia lacks something
in his war memories.
One day dies and another is born while the boys are eating
and their start for Baltimore is very early, since they are loaded
into freight cars at 3 o'clock, and are off for the Monumental
City, on this the 16th day of the month. It is noted that Dela-

THROUGH WASHINGTON. 25
ware and Maryland are wanting in New Jersey's enthu
siasm, but on reaching Baltimore at about noon the flags are
flying gorgeously. Our farmer boys continue to notice the dif
ferences in soil and crops from those familiar to them, and,
also, they see their approach to military rule, in that for sixty
miles north of Baltimore guard duty is done along the railroad
by companies of the 110th New York, an Oswego county regi
ment. The stay in Baltimore is short, though it rouses memo
ries of the assault on the Massachusetts 6th on April 19th of the
preceding year. Naturally our boys viewed the city apprehen
sively, but Colonel Welling had given strict orders against load
ing guns without command. Still, there were few unloaded
pieces by the time the march was half over. The regiment, as
yet, knew very little of discipline, and there would have been
a "hot time in the old town" had the citizens in any way mo
lested the line.
At 6 P. M., or thereabouts, the men still in freight cars are
steaming towards Washington, long the desired goal of these
thousand embryonic soldiers. In passing the Relay House,
friendly eyes detected familiar forms among certain paroled
prisoners, just from Harper's Ferry, where they had fallen into
the hands of Stonewall Jackson. They are, like ourselves, boys
from Cayuga and Wayne, members of the 111th and the 8th
Cavalry, victims of General D. S. Miles's cowardice, or worse.
At 11 o'clock we go supperless to bed in city barracks, some
times misnamed "Soldiers' Rest." Some, however, prefer to
spend the remainder of the night on the depot floor. Certain
officers sally forth for a sleep at Willard's Hotel, which a few
verdant ones think they find in the Capitol's majestic
front. There is scarcely a member of the regiment who does
not feel he is more of a soldier now that he is actually in the
same city with Abraham Lincoln.

CHAPTER III.
Through Washington.
While our newly-arrived soldiers were gazing with admira
tion and wonder on the nation's Capitol, their brothers, scarcely
more than fifty miles away, were fighting the bloodiest single

26 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
battle of the war, for the first day of the 138th in Washington
was Wednesday, the 17th day of September, 1862, that year
indissolubly associated with the battle of Antietam. Had our
departure from Auburn been a trifle earlier, it is probable that
the whole subsequent history of the regiment would have been
very different. Our Camp Halleck predecessors, the 111th, reached
the seat of war early enough to participate in the campaign
and to make a part of General D. S. Miles's sad sacrifice at
Harper's Ferry. A week earlier in Washington, and there might
have been no 9th Heavy Artillery, at least for us, and a bloody
baptism at Antietam, or a surrender at the scene of John
Brown's foray, would have insured the retention of the nu
merals first assigned us, and we should have continued to be
infantry in name as well as deed, as we really were when we
went into active service. These are after-thoughts.
To the great majority of the rank and file of the regiment,
the rising sun of the 17th revealed Washington for the first
time. For many years a city of magnificent distances, she was
in 1862 but a skeleton of her subsequent self. The avenues
and streets, devised and laid out by M. L'Enfant, the French
engineer, were all there and some of the grand public buildings
were then as now but the finish, the end of the century knows
was yet to be. Workmen were toiling on the uncompleted
Capitol. Like pygmies, some of them were seen working at
dizzy heights. Looking away from the great building, nearer
terra flrma, the prospect was not altogether entrancing. The
canal connecting the Eastern Branch and the Potomac then,
as it continued to do for years afterwards, dispensed an odor
that was not altogether aromatic. What it may have lacked
in the "two and twenty stenches," ascribed to the city of Co
logne, was fully made up by open sewers and the garbage
freely consigned to the streets. Mud reigned supreme, and an
army lost in Pennsylvania avenue was not so strange a hap
pening to those who saw this famous thoroughfare in 1861-65
as it might be to them who know it only in its present concreted
condition. Our boys who had come so far to save the Capital
were not a little disgusted at finding themselves debarred from
its chief edifice on account of the exigencies of building. Thev
did, however, walk around it, and unanimously agreed that it
was considerably larger than the Court Houses of Auburn and
Lyons, larger even than the Capitol in Albany, this being a

THROUGH WASHINGTON. 27
long time before New York entered upon the most expensive
building feat in America, if not in the world. They concluded
that when the dingy surroundings should have disappeared,
the structure would stand forth magnificently, an opinion fully
justified in later years. The whole eastern space leading off
towards Maryland was then scarcely better than a barren
waste, broken only by soldiers' barracks, useful, but very far
from ornamental. Greenough's "Father of his Country" was
on the west side of the building; indeed, there was little then
that the visitor now admires, and many a boy disappointedly
wrote in his diary: "The city smells bad, and the streets are
nasty." However, we were not on a holiday excursion and we
knew it, still we had senses such as the armies of the old world
never knew, and the ranks as well as the officers had studied
enough to enable them to compare and to draw conclusions.
Scores of these young men, just from the farm, office and school,
if, unlike Napoleon's soldiers, they had not possible marshals'
batons in their knapsacks, they did carry to the last day of
their service diaries or journals in which they daily entered
their thoughts and observations. Nothing like the average
American soldier was ever bred save on this continent.
Notwithstanding the novelty of their situation there was no
sorrow at the orders to depart, and in the afternoon the line
of march was taken up towards the Potomac, the river that for
a year and a half had been more often named than any other
stream in America. "Old Potomac's Shore" and "All quiet on
the Potomac" were in many minds as the boys marched towards
the Long Bridge. At their right they could see the Post Office,
the Patent Office, the Treasury, and the White House, where
Abraham Lincoln was giving his life to the public weal, and
nearer by, in a vast cattle corral, was the stubby column which
years later was to become the tallest in the land, a monument
to Washington. Out upon the Long Bridge we went, the same
structure that had borne the soldiers going to Bull Run, and
at the close of the day received the hapless, panting fugitives
returning therefrom. Forts Jackson and Runyon guarded the
Virginia end. Once across the regiment deflected to the right,
and bore away towards Arlington, and at 9 P. M. went into
camp, our first actual experience of out-of-doors soldiers' life,
for hitherto there had been more or less of barracks to cover
us. It is Camp Chase in which we find ourselves, thus named

28 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
from Salmon P. Chase of Ohio, secretary of the treasury, one
of President Lincoln's advisers. The location is a little beyond
Fort Albany, and is on the eastern slope of Arlington
Heights. Their first real march was simply a foretaste of what
was to follow, but if those men of September, 1862, who paid
ten cents each to sundry small boys and darkies for carrying
their pursey knapsacks, could have looked forward two years
and thus see themselves with the scant baggage of 1864, what
smiles would have overspread their faces at the thought of
what they now consider essential to their comfort, as compared
with what they then found they could easily do without. They
were very large bundles that, systematically packed, over
topped the heads of many a soldier, and they had scarcely more
than the regulations demanded, but later every man learned
to think for himself. As always happened in going into camp,
there were marchings and countermarchings. Indeed, getting
settled in camp was not unlike the conduct of a dog that in
variably turns around three times before lying down. It was
nearer midnight than sunset before the 138th had a chance to
really rest. There was a vast array of similar humanity en
camped within sight, and the illuminations from hundreds of
camp-fires produced an ineffaceable impression. Tired, satu
rated with perspiration, supperless, our boys lay, for the first
time, with knapsacks as pillows, upon their overcoats and
under their blankets. Some very neat and careful soldiers,
before they slept, stripped and thoroughly dried their bodies,
and with clean underclothing next their person slumbered all
the better, but there came a time when such care was quite im
possible. Thursday, the 18th, dawned wet and drizzly, the direct re
sult, every soldier knows, of the terrible day at Antietam, for
rain always followed great battles, but the dawn revealed the
true character of our surroundings. An old deserted field meant
much clearing up, and at it the soldiers went with a discreet
lookout for copperheads and rattlesnakes, which all normally
constituted northern boys supposed to abound in southern
brush. One would like to know how many soldiers ever saw
a poisonous snake in Virginia. Seldom did they find anything
more startling than a swift, not half so disagreeable as a wood-
tick, though it ran across his face as he rested in Old Dominion
woods. Some with natural history tendencies noted turtles

THROUGH WASHINGTON. 29
with expansive shells, and even found time and ability to catch
a rabbit. We were then nearer the enemy than we had ever
been before. While before us lay Washington and a sea of
tents, in the other direction far-sighted soldiers declared they
could see rebel pickets.
It was while drawing rations here that we had our first ex
perience with bullets in motion. A squad of men was standing
near a pile of cracker boxes, when the missiles came pattering
down among them. Colonel Welling and Quartermaster Knowles
were sitting on the boxes at the time. The colonel explained
that a guard detail in a neighboring camp, unaware of our
presence, were discharging their guns on being relieved. What
ever the effect in the adjoining camp, it was anything but a
relief to us, and we wondered that men could be so careless
with shooting-irons.
An inventory of one soldier's knapsack as he spent this day
in full sight of Washington, is not out of place. Some men may
have carried more, certainly many had less. The man, a pri
vate, was considerably older than the average in the ranks,
unmarried, hence in his bachelorhood somewhat more partic
ular than the frisky youths around him. For the owner's com
fort this knapsack contained an extra pair of shoes, an old
vest, a pair of drawers, two pairs of socks, a towel, two hand
kerchiefs, one-half quire writing paper, one pack buff envelopes,
penholder, stocking-yarn for mending, two blanket-pins, awls,
shoe-thread, pins, buttons, beeswax, one pound cheese, and a
tin box of honey. This table of contents, when surmounted
with rubber blanket, fly-tent, overcoat and woolen blanket,
made about all that one man wanted to carry, especially when
there were, besides, gun, bayonet, cartridge-box, haversack and
canteen. Before that soldier again saw his native hills, he
found he could reduce that stock very much and still retain a
measure of happiness.
Breakfast came late; the hour from 9 to 11 o'clock would
have suited better a city night prowler than these active coun
try boys, and when they did get it they could not help contrast
ing the food with that had so recently in Philadelphia. Musty
and sour bread, said to have been brought from Auburn, corned
beef and a bit of cheese made up the bill of fare. Some fastid
ious lads went hungry rather than eat it. They grew less par
ticular as they continued to wear the blue, and long ere they

30 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
had laid it off, this forenoon's spread would have been thought
daintiness itself. There was green corn on outlying farms, and
some of the boys went for it, and returned at 5 P. M. to find the
camp desolate, their comrades having recrossed the Potomac.
Creditable work had been done in clearing up the pro
spective camping-place, when at 3 o'clock P. M. the
regiment was ordered back to the District of Colum
bia, with Fort Bunker Hill as the objective point.
Again industrious civilians are ready to earn an honest penny
in carrying overburdened knapsacks, for the march, begun at
4 o'clock, was hot and dusty. Day had long since departed
when these soldier tyros filed along the streets of the
capital; weary and reekingly hot, they were ready to camp
whenever and wherever they got the word. It seeming to be
impracticable to reach their destination that night, a bivouac
was ordered in the streets on the northern side of the city.
There being near by a public square or park, in which, fortunate
ly, Washington abounds, this was utilized, along with the pave
ment, as resting-places. This day's work with that of the pre
ceding had begun to tell on the men, and some, overcome by
heat and fatigue, were borne into a neighboring school-house,
which thus became a temporary hospital. This edifice, con
spicuous in our records, was probably on the corner of 8th and
L streets. The night, though long, had an end, and morning found the
boys making their toilets in a most decidedly public place, viz.,
the street. Just one week before, the regiment had left Auburn,
and the 19th of September was to be noteworthy in the annals
of the organization, for at 9.30 A. M. occurred the first death
among these more than 1000 men. Porter V. Palmer of Com
pany I,whohad enlisted in Auburn, succumbed thus early to the
exactions and privations of a soldier's life. The physicians
said the cause of his death was congestion of the brain. He
was only nineteen years old, and his life of patriotism was ended
almost before it began. The sad tidings circulated rapidly, and
with hushed breath one comrade passed the statement to the
next. Only two days before, at Antietam, more than 2000
brave boys in the Union army had fallen in fierce conflict, yet
that loss did not have the effect upon these ranks that this
one case from our own number had. Death was present and
his grim figure struck terror into hearts that otherwise feared

CAMP LIFE AND ROAD-MAKING. 31
not. The regiment passed on, and just one body was left be
hind, later to be sent north, there to impress upon sorrowing
friends and the public generally the fact that war is no play-
spell. The remains were buried from the Baptist Church, Au
burn, September 28th, in the North street cemetery, the exer
cises being the most impressive of the kind that Auburn had, as
yet, beheld. The funeral procession was led by the band of
the famous Dan Rice, whose circus was then in the city.
Though death is present, the living must eat. Yesterday's
rations help along, and by running the guard extras may be
purchased. Watermelons at twenty-five cents each are tooth
some, and many are sampled. At 11 A. M. the line of march
is again formed, and at 1 o'clock camp is pitched at Bunker
Hill. It does not take long to dig a well, and to put up our
tents. All agree that the water and the place are improve
ments on Camp Chase, and in Camp Bunker Hill our Wayne
and Cayuga boys may be considered as settling into genuine
military life.

CHAPTER IV.
Camp Life and Road-making.
The 138th New York found itself on high ground with no
less than six forts in sight, and with several camps, similar to
its own, near by. Letters written here were usually headed,
"Camp Bunker Hill."
Though, as stated, wells were dug the soldiers soon learned
to like better a neighboring spring, whose waters were worth
making the journey for. The first night in their new quarters
was broken by distant cannonading, which the boys at first
thought to be thunder. Considerably startled, the slumbers of
certain ones were effectually ended, and so crawling out, a real
camp-fire, their first one, was formed, around which stood the
colonel and others. Very likely the sound came from Lee's re
treating forces, followed by the Union army after Antietam.
Morning brings the reveille, and the many calls incident to
camp life. Breakfast is had from bread and coffee; some have
to do guard duty. Naturally, with the battle of Antietam so
near and so recent, sentinels are nervous, and imagination sup-

32 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
plies what the situation lacks. One man, standing on the edge
of a wood, thinks that he hears and sees something in a neigh
boring bush. Getting no response to his challenge, and sus
pecting the immediate proximity of ubiquitous rebels, he fires
his gun and follows up the discharge with a vigorous thrust
with his bayonet, whereby the latter implement of war is
broken short off. Though the camp is in commotion at once,
really nothing more serious followed than on the part of the
nervous sentry a severe attack of an illness supposed to be
incident to the summer months.
Sunday, the first in camp, brought a sermon from Chaplain
Mudge, and the Bible class begun in Auburn. It is delightful
to note that one good soldier, who had volunteered to stand on
guard this day, finds time and disposition to state that while
the soil is good, it is more clayey than that in Wayne county,
and the prevalence of pine trees with chinquapin and other
bushes is especially mentioned. Monday, the 22d of September,
begins a routine of work on roads and fortifications, which,
however useful and necessary, is particularly distasteful to the
members of the regiment. To their minds the work they were
doing was better performed by laborers specially hired for
such purpose, but the obligations taken at enlistment held them
to complete obedience to orders, and they thereupon became
knights of pick, shovel and wheelbarrow, with only inci
dental recurrence to military drill supposed to be their legiti
mate province. The purpose of the government to surround
Washington with a cordon of forts, and to connect them with
excellent military roads, was a wise provision, whose utility
was apparent in 1864, when a battalion of this same regiment
had the privilege of defending the capital against Early and
his men, but the labor of preparation is not enjoyed by one of
these soldiers, though they are thereby exempt from the direct
danger of bullet and shell. The casual reading of a soldier's
diary kept then at this late date, makes one believe that the
writer thought of little beside his stomach. The bacon was
wormy and the pork rancid; the bread was sour, or there was
not enough of it; rarely were the rations and the stomach
just fitted to each other.
In a letter home a writer gives this graphic bird's-eye view
of the forts about the city: "Having the capital as a centre, with
a five miles' radius, describe an oblong circle; then draw inner

CAMP LIFE AND ROAD-MAKING. 33
arcs with radii considerably shortened. On the outermost line
the forts are one mile apart, on the next inner three-fourths
of a mile; while the innermost has forts at intervals of one-
half mile. Ranges of rifle-pits and occasional batteries con
nect all the forts, which are built to mount fourteen guns."
This was a view in 1862. Of course the system was consider
ably modified in subsequent months, but the presentation is
quite clear and comprehensive.
On the 22d of September, the president issued his Proclama
tion of Emancipation, and the thinking character of our sol
diery is evident in the comments made. It is on record that
one soldier (there may have been others), Sergeant James F.
Ames of the 5th New York Cavalry, deserted to the enemy,
and became one of Moseby's men, known thereafter as "Big
Yankee," dying finally in his boots, thus acting because of his
disgust that the war was to be one, as he said, only for the
"nigger." No such sentiments were heard in the 138th. On
the contrary, these men who had been accustomed to discuss
if not to settle all national questions at the village grocery
gave to the president's action the most thorough approval; in
fact they thought it a more direct means towards ending the
war than their wheelbarrows. One veracious chronicler sets
forth, in glowing terms, the serenade by the Marine Band,
which he heard at the White House in honor of the Proclama
tion, and his pleasure at hearing and seeing the president.
There were many representatives among these soldiers of
fathers who had long maintained stations on the famous Un
derground Railroad.
As enlisted men, free Americans are called upon to perform
many tasks, seemingly menial, hence our boys have to swallow
no little rancor when they form a part of sink-digging details,
or secure brush to make more comfortable some officer's quar
ters. Of course they do it, but ever with the thought that only
the oath compels. Late in the evening of the 24th, seven
days' rations are issued, and the boys think there is a chance
to exchange their implements of husbandry for those of war.
Alas! it is only a canard, and long ere their rations are con
sumed, the possessors are warned, by the sense of smell, that
their camp is not supplied with refrigerators.
On the 25th, through the afternoon, cannon are fired, at half-
hour intervals, in memory of General Joseph K. F. Mansfield,
3

34 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
killed at Antietam. As yet our boys have not learned the best
way of keeping up their camp cuisine, and every man is going
it alone or with his tent-mate. The first record of boiled beans
is found on the 26th. The New York soldiers never acquired
the New Englander's facility, in preparing this most useful
article of food. The latter baked beans to a turn, and to this
day claims that not even those at home began to equal the beans
baked under the coals in camp. We New Yorkers took ours
in soup or porridge, wholly ignorant of the possibilities dwell
ing in this leguminous object, produced so bountifully upon
our own farms. I
Our relations with the distinguished secretary of state, Wil
liam H. Seward, were ever most friendly. As early as on our
march to Camp Chase, this most courtly gentleman, in a car
riage, rode along pur lines. On the 25th he came to Camp Bun
ker Hill, accompanied by an English officer, possibly Lord
Lyons, then British minister in Washington, and was extreme
ly cordial in his greetings, even alluding to us as his family
and children. Naturally his interest in any regiment coming
from his own home would be great, and reasonably it became
greater in our case, since his son, his namesake, was second
in command. As he often visited us, there need be little
wonder that the 138th New York early acquired the nickname
of "Seward's Pets."
Sunday, the 28th, was a day of rest in civil life, but it was
the soldier's cleaning-up and odds-and-ends day, and we were
settling down to something of a routine. So far as known,
this day has the record of the very first blood shed in our
annals, not on the battlefield, but in simple, prosaic guard
duty. William H. Bovee of Company K found his gun loaded,
and in some way, by means of this same gun, managed to lose
three of his toes. While it left, upon one foot, only two of these
useful pedal members, yet with their aid he was able to stub
around during the remainder of his term of service. Chaplain
Mudge preached in Company E street. Later came the dress-
parade and Bible class. In the evening a real old-fashioned re
vival service was held, addressed by a rousing preacher from
Cayuga county. Two captains of the 138th also proved their
former occupation by preaching. There were from ten to fif
teen forward for prayers. It may not have been at this verv
meeting, but it was at one of the series that John L. of Com-

CAMP LIFE AND ROAD-MAKING. 35
pany F, a Dutchman of the most approved pattern, won im
perishable renown, so far as his comrades were concerned, in
a brief speech, which secured for him complete exemption from
all religious participation thereafter. It is said that John was
present by invitation, and in the experience portion of the ex
ercises, it was very natural for his captain to ask him for some
expression of his feelings. To our worthy German, the whole
meeting had been nothing but Greek and his notions of religion
were exceedingly vague, at the best, but he was not the man
to refuse an invitation to speak, so removing a large chew of
tobacco from his mouth, he quite electrified his hearers with
his words, thereby certainly producing the sensation of the
evening. He spoke as follows, looking very stern and solemn,
"Vel, I haf not mooch to speak mit you, but von dings I vish,
and dat ish dat de repels all go to hell right avay, and dat ve
all get pack home, pooty damn quick." No one disputed John's
sentiments; possibly they had an echo in the hearts of many
listeners, but somehow they seemed to lack the familiar relig
ious flavor.
On the 29th came rumors of a change of base, and everything,
except tents, was packed with the expectation of moving, it
was said, to Frederick City, in which case we should have
gotten into the rear of the Antietam campaign, and had we
followed the course taken by the regiment which went in our
place, we should have been at Gettysburg, at Chattanooga, and
later with Sherman in his march to the sea. But Colonel Well
ing and Lieutenant Colonel Seward made a trip to Washington,
and on their return said that the 137th New York would go in
our place. The subsequent career of that organization is out
lined above. Prices current for breadstuffs are indicated in the
following entry for this day : "Traded bread for pie, eight loaves
for one small pie."
The camp continued restless, for the air is full of rumors of
moves, and on the last day of the month came orders that a
part of the regiment should march the next day to Fort Kear
ney. During our stay here considerable work was done on Fort
Totten, a little to our northeast. Here also was performed our
first picket duty. Lieutenant Freehoff returned to his company,
"I," one day from headquarters, and in the street called out, "I
want twenty-five men to volunteer. Who has pluck to go with
me on picket?" The wait was short, for in a twinkling the street

36 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
was full of men, all anxious to go. "By Shimminy," remarked
the German officer, "you all has pluck, I guess;" and he takes
his men from the nearest tents to fill his detail, and reports.
There must be the first experience in all lines of life as we go
through it, and the solemn charge that an attack from guer
rillas was expected and that consequent extra vigilance was
necessary, did not tend to lessen the nervousness of these men
on their first trial in this line. All through that long night
they heard the veriest crackling of the dry underbrush in the
woods, occasioned by mice or weasels, and whippoorwills' cries
were sadder than ever, but nothing more serious than the
rounds of the picket officer was encountered. When, however.
they returned to camp with their labor done, what stories
they had to tell; vastly more thrilling than when, two years
later in the valley, they really stood within the rebels' reach.

CHAPTER V.
Camp Nellie Seward and Fort Kearney.
Fort Bunker Hill, near which the 138th had been camping,
was northeast of Washington and due west of the old Bladens-
burg road. It was in the District of Columbia, and the work
of the regiment on the neighboring roads was quite apparent.
On this the first day of October, the preparations for departure
began early. One company, at least, was up at midnight to
draw rations, and the regiment was off at 7 o'clock A. M. The
march was a long one, considering burdens and inexperience.
As the crow flies, the distance was under ten miles, but follow
ing the roads, Fort Kearney, where the final halt was made at
about noon, was quite eleven miles away. The fort was thus
named for General Philip Kearney, a hero of the Mexican War
who had lost his life at Chantilly, just one month previously.
"Camp Nellie Seward" now becomes the appellation of the
138th's military home, thus commemorating the name of the
lieutenant colonel's little daughter. The new location is three
miles from the Potomac, six from Washington, two from George
town and one and a half miles from the Maryland line. Our prede
cessors here were New Jersey men, the 11th Infantry, ordered
to the field. Our morning's march was enlivened by heavy and

CAMP NELLIE SEWARD AND FORT KEARNEY. 37
rapid firing, apparently not more than five miles to the west
ward; it might have been much further off, for sound is decep
tive and our ears were inexperienced. Subsequent information
told us that the trouble was at Shepardstown, beyond Harper's
Ferry, a cavalry and artillery scrap, noisy, but not particularly
noted. Though we had changed our stations, we had not escaped
the same kind of work to which we had recently been intro
duced, for, while the majority of the men labor on the roads,
certain ones do heavy work in the fort, carrying and setting
the heavy timbers which formed the stockade, sometimes by
the boys called pickets. One worker having observing eyes
says the fort has three embrasures and three pivot-guns. Nor
are the soldiers alone in their duties, for from thirty to forty
contrabands are delving with them. How gladly would we
have given the entire job into the hands of these disenthralled
Africans! Then, too, though very near the base of supplies,
rations are scant, and lovely landscapes can not compensate
for empty stomachs. Farmers' boys find bread only, though
nominally the staff of life, somewhat of a broken reed for sup
port, considering the amount of digging required of them. More
than a thousand acres had been cleared of timber to give a
clear sweep from the fort, and still more must be cut. It
seemed not a little strange that the Capital of the United States
should have been located in such a wilderness. The fort is only
about half built, and there are ten miles of road to be made.
The 5th of October is the first Sunday in this camp, and
one racy raconteur remarks the exceeding healthfulness of the
day. Roll-call, inspection, dress-parade and a general washup,
with reading and such other diversions as active minds suggest,
fully occupy the time, while the surgeon and his assist
ants have a vacation. On other days, however, when
picks and shovels are in order, and at roll-call, the ailing
are ordered to step to the front, one might think from the
response that the camp was located in the very theatre of
miasma; thus early did these verdant youths learn what "old
soldiering" meant. Then also these practical boys lament the
waste of so much valuable timber, just for a pawn in the wild
game of war, but when was strife other than expensive, still
what were material things, compared with the woe which death
was planting in so many homes?

38 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The regiment was not particularly proud of its reputation,
but it was currently reported that no body of men before it had
made such excellent roads; indeed some ways pronounced fin
ished had to be made over by these Empire State soldiers,
some of whom, at least, had taken their first lessons in this
business, in working out their poll-taxes under the direction
of the pathmaster. All, however, was not praise. Sometimes
the engineers would lay out the work, and when completed,
through no fault of the makers, proclaim it all wrong, and it
must be pulled down or up and made over again. The character
and ability of some of these fort and road builders may be in
ferred when we find them noting that the soil, in places, is
decomposed gneiss rock, readily breaking into small chunks,
with one or more black faces, with seams of quartz running
through them, but what else could be expected of men who
read the Atlantic Monthly for a respite and find Sunday after
noon diversion in botany? Yet these men were not officers;
just privates in the ranks.
October 8th great quantities of ammunition are stored in the
magazines of Fort Kearney. Discipline is gradually making it
self felt, and while the men not on duty repair to the woods,
October 12th, for religious worship, one of their number is con
signed to the guard-house because he has been heard threaten
ing to desert. Thereafter when a dissatisfied soldier wished to
take French leave, he wasted no time talking about it. On this
day the companies hear read, for the first time, the Articles of
War, though for some weeks they had been thinking them
selves able to recognize sundry articles of this sort on sight.
Tuesday, October 14th, camp and work monotony is broken,
as the men go in for their supper of bread and fried beef, by a
command to fall in and to report the number of cartridges in
each one's possession ; supper is eaten hurriedly, and then, once
more in line, forty rounds per man are given out. All this be
cause rebel cavalry are said to be within ten miles of the fort.
This was one of the annual horse-collecting raids of General
J. E. B. Stuart, though his forces on their way down from
Chambersburg had already crossed the Potomac on the 12th.
Evidently our people thought such a leader liable to appear at
any moment anywhere, and they had better have a care. In
reality, at this particular moment, he with his men and horses
after taking needed rest in Leesburg, were by easy stages work-

CAMP NELLIE SEWARD AND FORT KEARNEY. 39
ing westward of the mountains. Company D is sent to the fort
and four companies are sent out upon the picket line and the
others are ordered to lie upon their arms. The camp is razed,
though no one can tell just why. To-day such proceedings have
a farcical appearance, though they may not have been without
their benefits even then, since the preparation came in the way
of drill and discipline.
As no enemy appeared, the weapons of war again gave place
to the implements of peace, and digging proceeded as before,
not infrequently enlivened by words like these, sung to the
tune of Dixie: "I wish I was in old Wayne county,
My three years up, and I had my bounty,
Look away, look away," etc.
After the scare, the guns were discharged into a neighboring
sandbank. Evidently marksmanship was poor, for a dog, just
in line, had the full benefit of the fusilade, but was unhurt.
Perhaps the boys only made believe aim at him. Let us hope
so, both for the sake of their aim and of their hearts.
Camp fare is improving, as this menu will amply prove:
Breakfast — roast beef, bread, coffee and apple sauce; dinner —
beef, bread and tea; while supper was made from bread and
tea. On the 17th the arrival at 4 P. M. of the 17th Connecticut*
gave a suspicion of a move to be made soon, and it came the
very next day, Saturday, the 18th, when a complete transfer
of outfit was made to the vicinity of Fort Mansfield. The
march was through Tennallytown, about one mile, and we
halted a mile and a half from Chain Bridge. The location is
better than that just left. The line between the District and
Maryland runs through our camp, which is called "Morris,"

*The 17th Connecticut was from Fairfield county, and had as colonel
Wm. H. Noble, but a more noted man was in the ranks, viz., Elias Howe,
Jr., of sewing-machine fame. Having done garrison duty for some
time in Baltimore, the regiment had asked permission to join Sigel's
corps. As a punishment for such temerity, it was ordered to Port
Kearney, where for two weeks it handled pick and shovel before
reaching the 11th Corps. It was only a few weeks later that Private
Howe advanced the money to pay off the regiment, a most convenient
man, we thought, to have around. Those competent to judge declared
that Colonel Noble resembled the pictures of the lately slain General
Nathaniel Lyon, another Connecticut man.

40 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
and some of us halt in a potato field. The popular and neces
sary vegetable is dug with bayonets, and if any man in the
regiment fails to have "spuds" for supper, it is his own fault.
Men get used to almost everything, and a six-mule load of bread,
piled upon the ground, is none the less sought for, though a
mule hitched near has, with his tail, kept the flies from the
bread for several hours. Our nearest neighbors are men of the
29th New Jersey, who have done a deal of work on Forts Mans
field and Reno. .
Had Washington people known what our soldiers were doing
with their reservoir, their relish for its contents would have
been much lessened. "Dirty, not fit to swim in," is the general
comment, and its waters are made still more turbid by the
soldiers, who use it as one big wash-tub for their clothing. Oh
Cleanliness! what crimes are committed in thy name, and on
Sunday, too! At dress-parade on this 19th of October, the sec
retary of state, William H. Seward, appears, but perhaps the
presence of Colonel Welling's wife and daughter gives even
more pleasure than that of the eminent gentleman, for the
soldiers love to hear the sound of women's voices, thus being
reminded of home. For the proper shelter of himself and fam
ily, the colonel has had built a small house, not elegant, but
sufficient. There is very little variation in routine for the following
week. The Potomac and the Ohio and Chesapeake canal afford
ample facilities for bathing and washing, which many improve.
Chain Bridge comes in for inspection as well as the potato
fields of the neighboring farmers. The latter complain and en
deavor to identify the culprits, but fail utterly. Careful and
loving friends at home send to their Ontario boys a barrel of
dried fruit, on which the expressage is $5.25. Just what the
fruit was worth is not recorded. There is no lack of work, for
old roads are made over and new ones are laid out. Drill is not
neglected and inspections come regularly.
November 1st Captain Cornwell of Company E died of
typhoid fever after an illness of ten days. His death was a
great loss in every way, for he merited and received the highest
respect of every one. His body was embalmed and sent home
to Cayuga county, where from the Scipio Universalist Church,
November 9th, all that was mortal was borne to its burial.
His was the first death among our officers.

CAMP NELLIE SEWARD AND FORT KEARNEY. 41
Sunday, November 2d, at dress-parade, Secretary Seward
and President Lincoln are present. Already hints are made
that the 138th is a pet regiment. One of the boys thus describes
the visit: "Just as the regiment, in fine condition, was drawn
up in line, an open barouche was discovered in front on the
right, in which were seated two distinguished looking men.
Every eye observed them, though the command was, 'Front.'
Shortly after Colonel Welling had taken his place, one of these
men left the carriage and moved slowly to a position a little
back of the colonel. By this time every man knew he was in
the presence of Abraham Lincoln. The secretary remained in
the vehicle. How proud we all felt! The sublime and the
ridiculous are often mingled, and this event was an illustration.
In passing the president, one of the officers, noted more for his
stature than for his gracefulness, after sundry reproofs to his
men for not keeping in step, apparently formed the resolution
to measure heights with Mr. Lincoln as he passed. So at the
proper moment he straightened up to all the height that God
had given him, and evidently wished his men to make note.
They did, for they heard the president say, distinctly, 'Lieu
tenant, I am taller than you.' The tall officer's collapse was
never forgotten. Later many favored ones grasped the presi
dent's hand."
During this day there is the roar of heavy firing in the west,
and six weeks ago it would have made every ear erect, but ours
are becoming more experienced. The 2d Corps had discovered
some rebels at or near Snicker's Gap, and the batteries were
exchanging compliments. November 4th is election day, and
an expression of political opinion is taken by the men.
Throughout the regiment the sentiment is largely Re
publican. In Company D fifty-five men favor General
James S. Wadsworth for governor and fifteen prefer Horatio
Seymour; very likely the remaining men were not voters, or
did not care to express themselves.
It was in these rather quiet days that Captain  was
officer of the day. It is said that the severe weather had
prompted him to take rather more fire-water than was really
good for his understanding. Indeed, he had not gone far on
his round of nightly duty when, approaching what he supposed
to be a sentry's post, and seeing some dark object near at hand,
he halted for the challenge. In a chiding tone, he reproved the

42 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
supposed sentinel for his lack of military precision and once
more said, "Why don't you challenge the grand rounds?" By
this time the officer had approached several paces nearer, and
had entered upon his query for the third time when he sudden
ly found himself measuring his length upon the ground. It
seems that he had gotten off the regular track, and, nearing the
stock corral, had been addressing his remarks to a mule whose
heels, in due time, had effectually halted him. The words the
captain uttered did not include the countersign.
On the 8th the camp was honored by a visit from Secretaries
Seward and Stanton with Lord Lyons, British minister. We
thus had frequent opportunity to see some of the most famous
men of the day. Two companies, C and K, were ordered to
Fort Gains, on the 11th, which disturbed them not a little, for
they had just finished their quarters, backing poles, to make
the same fully half a mile. Owners of land object to road-
making and ditch-digging — but everything goes. When candle
rations run short, the colonel's quarters catch fire, perhaps for
a hint that light was needed. Some one calls this existence a
"dog's life." He wanted excitement. Passes were occasionally
obtained for a day in Washington. How the day was spent
there depended entirely on the taste of the visitor. Many
sought the Capitol, Patent and Post Offices, the White House,
and the like. If the scenes sought were questionable, no record
was made of them.
Monotony reigns in camp life and police duty during the
month of November, though on the 23d a Stonewall Jackson
scare, incident to his moving from Winchester, or to a recon
noissance by Stuart, leads to the handling of considerable am
munition and to some haste in mounting guns in the forts.
Indications became more and more pronounced that the regi
ment was to stay in the defenses, for before the end of the
month, the officers were studying artillery drill, and some work
had been done on the guns in Fort Kearney by the companies
stationed there. The 27th was the first Thanksgiving in camp,
and was conspicuous for the absence of the orthodox turkey
and other dainties which made the home board so attractive.
One soldier records his dinner as composed of bread and butter^
cheese and apple-sauce. Though not up to the traditional
standard, he might have fared much worse. The same man
laments the cost of his Atlantic Monthly, twenty-five cents for

CAMP NELLIE SEWARD AND FORT KEARNEY. 43
the magazine and twenty-five more for the messenger; it does
seem as though the tariff were a trifle high.
It was in this camp that a sudden night alarm summoned
the men into line, to which they hastened in all degrees of
sleepiness and fright. One of the captains, however, lest someone
might oversleep, went through his street and inspected every
tent. As he poked open one flap he found a youngster, scared
almost to distraction. His reply to the captain's reproof for his
delinquency was, "Oh, captain, don't make me go out there and
be killed!" The officer's considerateness in allowing him to
remain where he was, was amply justified in subsequent
dangers, when he proved himself brave enough. It was only a
stage fright, liable to attack any one sooner or later.
Sometimes the fun of soldiers came near being what has been
characterized as horse-play. It was in Company F, one chilly
evening in October. A few men were smoking and yarning
around the pit, over which cooking had been done all day, and
which was now well filled with red-hot embers. While they
were thus standing, one of the company came up to the other
side of the trench, a man good-natured when sober, but ex
ceedingly surly when in liquor. Tall and robust, he was able
to carry out any threat he might make. Soon came also a
comrade of quite a different build, always good natured and
genial ; he essayed a little fun at the expense of the tall soldier,
which the latter was in no mood to relish. Finally, turning upon
the joker, he exclaimed, "If you don't behave I'll take you by
the seat of your trousers and the nape of your neck and throw
you into the fire." Unfortunately the short soldier did not
take the hint, but persisted in his nonsense, saying, "You can't
do it." Whereupon the giant actually seized the comrade, as
threatened, and holding him over the pit, as though he were
only a child, let him drop upon the fiery mass. All this hap
pened before any one could interfere, but as the victim fell upon
his back he squirmed out upon the ground unhurt, though bad
ly frightened. The irate Hercules moved off, laughing devil
ishly, and as no one was hurt, those looking on could and did
laugh at Conny's expense.

44 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
CHAPTER VI.
Camp (Morris and the 9th Heavy Artillery.
The stopping-place after leaving Fort Kearney had taken a
new name, viz., Camp Morris, after Colonel Lewis O. Morris*
of the 113th New York, later to be dubbed the 7th Heavy Ar
tillery, and whose brave colonel was to fall, June 4th, 1864, at
Cold Harbor. At this time he commanded the Military Con
struction Corps in the defenses. As fort-building was so promi
nent a part of the regiment's work, the following description,
sent home by a participant, is not amiss: "The forts are simply
earthworks enclosing from one to two acres of land. They are
made by digging a ditch or moat, fifteen feet wide by from ten
to twelve feet deep, throwing the earth up to form an embank
ment inside the ditch. This bank is made hard by pounding it
as it is thrown up; through embrasures, guns are run out; on
the outside are abatis which hinder the approach of man or
horse; within are magazines and bombproof s, also barracks to
be used in case of an attack; it requires three reliefs to work the
heavy guns; all the forts are connected by rifle-pits; entrance-
gates are on the side towards Washington ; the heavy stockades
surrounding are pierced by loop-holes.
The approach of winter rendered it necessary to make in
creased preparations for the sake of health and comfort. The
laying out of quarters became a necessity, and house-building
was the general vocation; the term house, however, was less
heard than "hut," "shanty," "tent" or "winter-quarters." Their
desirableness as habitations depended largely on the taste, in
genuity and industry of the builders. They were party affairs,
?Colonel Morris belonged to one of New York's most noted fam
ilies. His father, Lewis N., a graduate of West Point, was killed at
Monterey in 1846, bravely leading his men, a brevet major, U. S. A.
The colonel's grandfather, Staats, was a brother of Lewis Morris, a
signer of the Declaration, and himself an officer on the staff of Gen
eral Anthony Wayne. Colonel L. O. Morris had been in the army since
1847, saw service in the Mexican war, and at the beginning of the Re
bellion was in Texas a captain in the 1st Artillery. His battery -was
the only one not surrendered to the Confederates. The prosaic life in
the defenses greatly chafed him, and the chance to lead his regiment
to the front under Grant's regime was eagerly seized, though it speed
ily led to his death.

CAMP MORRIS AND THE NINTH HEAVY ARTILLERY. 45
the number combining determining the size of the structure.
A building 9x16 feet was large enough for six men, and one
12x16 could hold twice that number. Luckily not all the trees
had been cut away, and sufficient were found to supply both
fuel and building material. The impromptu structures are
much smaller, being, externally, 7x8 feet. The lower part to
the height of 2\ feet is built of small logs, thus lessening the
inside measurement nearly one foot all around. A home letter
by a Company B boy, dated December 21st, gives an excellent
picture of what the writer deemed essential to his comfort in
his A tent having the above-described kind of a base :
" We enter at one end ; on the left side, as we come in, is our
fire-place in the corner ; beyond is a small table, at which I am
now writing. Across the back end is a little shelf 1\ feet from
the ground. On this shelf are three cupboards and other
things; two of the cupboards are used for our dishes and culi
nary outfit; the third is for my own private library. In the lower
space of the latter are three compartments, one for envelopes,
one for answered and the other for unanswered letters. Above
this comes the library itself, made up of general reading, such
as newspapers, magazines, etc., etc.; books, classical, scientific,
poetic, critical, and religious, as a Bible, hymn and prayer book.
The top shelf is expressly for stationery. Between the second
and third cupboards stands the tent-pole, and on each side of
this are our guns, the muzzles going through a short shelf
near the top of the tent. On the right side as we enter are
bedding, straw, etc. On the lowermost shelf is the water-pail
and above it the dried fruits. Our sabre-belts, cartridge-boxes,
canteens, haversacks, pistols, etc., hang on the tent-pole. Be
sides, we have three knapsacks, four overcoats, a box for dirty
shirts, extra boots and shoes, wash and slop dishes, towels,
dish-cloths, frying-pan, griddle and extra pail, place for twenty-
four hours' supply of fuel, a box of hickory nuts, a catch-all
bag, a box of chips, one drum, twenty-five feet of lumber, kept
inside for subsequent shanty; axe, hammer, punches, seats for
seven or eight men, a quantity of soap-stone and laurel-root,
which we whittle into curious things ; a bread-toaster, a pound
or two of nails, some old strap hinges, an old saw, a fire-
poker, etc." Evidently this young man had been used to comfort
at home, for many a city tenement has less articles for daily
use than he enumerates. In the same letter, he says he makes

46

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

mittens by cutting holes in the heels of a pair of socks and
sewing on, for thumbs, the eliminated toes thereof.
One officer, for his wife's delectation, sends home this dia
gram of his first and only floor :

Of course there are the regular rounds of drill, guard-duty
and fatigue, and the general health of the regiment is good.
Rations are helped out by home contributions, for the loved
ones there are not forgetful. One soldier is made happy by an
apple (doubtless there were others), on which he finds the magic
word, "Julia;" another dilates on the taste of a can of peaches,
while others are grateful for boxes of dried fruit, sausage,
mince-pie, and such dainties as only wives and mothers can pre
pare. Amusements are had in the making of briar-wood pipes,
not always for the use of the maker, for all did not smoke, not
by any means. The playing of whist and poker was well-nigh
universal, though some more thoughtful preferred chess and
checkers. Then many read a deal and of the best, as is evident
in the list of books afforded by one tent, Hugh Miller's "Foot
steps of the Creator," "Mountains of the Bible," "Pollock's
Course of Time," and other solid volumes, though it would be
unfair to imply that any considerable part of the regiment
reached this exalted pitch of literary taste.
Possibly the most important event of this month was the
actual transferal of the 138th New York Infantry to the 9th
Heavy Artillery. The order of conversion was dated Decem
ber 9th, and the designated numeral came on the 19th. With
such recurrence of the ultimate significant figure, the regiment
could hardly become other than the 9th. The first official pro
mulgation of the order came at dress-parade, December 2lst.

CAMP MORRIS AND THE NINTH HEAVY ARTILLERY. 47
Changes in military colors speedily followed, blue giving place
to red in chevrons, stripes and shoulder-straps, but the new
artillery coats did not come till December 30th. This becoming
an artillery regiment had been so thoroughly forestalled that
it occasioned very little remark. On the same date the 113th
and the 129th New York Infantry became the 7th and the 8th
Heavy Artillery, respectively. At this time the several com
panies were stationed as follows: at Fort Gains, C and K; at
Mansfield, B, G, E and H; at Reno, I, D, F and A; Colonel
Welling was near Reno, Seward at Mansfield and Major Taft
at Gains.
The condition of the weather may be inferred from the fact
that the ground was frozen some of the time to the depth of
six inches, and that snow four inches deep did not occasion
surprise; at the same time, thousands of men washed garments
in a stream not a stone's throw from the reservoir. For a
variety in camp-life, the sergeant of the guard picks up a pri
vate's gun in the guard quarters and playfully shoots away
two or three of said private's fingers. Of course he didn't
know that the gun was loaded. This type of ignorance is of a
Very ancient lineage. A letter, dated this month by a Company
E man to his wife, says, "Every Sunday morning there is com
pany inspection of arms, knapsacks, clothing, etc. The last day
of every month comes general inspection, and every second
month a muster for pay, as December, February, etc. Our guns
weigh 16 lbs.; balls, \\ oz. ; cartridges, 2 oz. The fort guns
are mostly 40-pound Parrotts, some heavy howitzers and occa
sionally a 100-pound cannon ; lots of heavy practice."
If the boys fared slimly at Thanksgiving, experience taught
them to make ready for Christmas. They couldn't hang up
their stockings, for they had no faith in Santa Claus on the
Potomac. The saint would never trust himself and steeds on
such roofs as they possessed. To the natives the day it
self was much more like a 4th of July celebration than
the observance of the Savior's birth, but it must not be sup
posed that these soldier boys were disposed to give the day a
particularly religious tone; they were determined, however, on
having just as good a dinner as the circumstances would allow.
On the 24th one man records paying a dollar for a gallon of
oysters in Washington for his own dinner and buying a chicken
and celery for his captain's. Young men who could make buck-

48 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
wheat cakes in camp and serve them with maple syrup were
equal to getting up a Christmas dinner. Fifteen men in Com
pany K forgot dull care as they discussed the following bill
of fare at 8 o'clock P. M.: "Cold roast pork, cold roast duck,
bread and butter, pickles, cheese, preserves, apples, pies (the
writer modestly observes that they were the first he ever made),
and four kinds of cake." After encompassing such a layout
the soldiers ought to have been in condition to enjoy the stories
that followed. Twenty good men of Company — ran the guard
just for a supper in a neighboring house. Unluckily sixteen of
them were caught and had to spend the remainder of their
Xmas in the guard-house, — an excellent opportunity to moral
ize on the mutability of things sublunary and on the exceeding
nearness of sadness to pleasure.* It should be said that the
day, though a world-wide holiday, did not excuse the men
from three hours' company drill.
On the last Sunday of the year, the 28th, Secretary Seward
visited camp and the chaplain preached. Somehow or other he
does not seem to fit the feelings of all the boys, some of whom
remark that he is more interested in rabbit and quail hunting
than in the performance of his ministerial functions; but when
was there a time that the fault-finder was not in evidence?
The great majority of our soldiers in camp had very little ap
preciation for that which became especially dear when death,
in the active campaign, stared them in the face. By the end of
the month officers and men were fairly well fixed for the new
year, though they had not gotten into barracks.
Being thus happily placed, it was not strange that certain
officers should send for their respective helpmeets, and before
the end of December the camp was gladdened with the presence,
among others, of Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Seward, Mrs. Major
Taft, Mrs. Captain Lyon, Mrs. Quartermaster Knowles,
arid Mrs. Lieutenant Wood. Mrs. Colonel Welling and daugh
ter have been mentioned already.

*Two years later a favorite bit of doggerel, sung to an unwritten
tune, ran thus:
"Oh, it's young men skedaddlers, I'd have you all beware,
Leave off your bounty-jumping and go live upon the square,
Por provost guards are plenty and governor's isle is nigh,
They'll leave you there in solitude to pine away and die."

CAMP MORRIS AND THE NINTH HEAVY ARTILLERY. 49
1863.
January comes in on Thursday, and is indicated by a cessa
tion of drill, a New York custom of setting more store by the
first day of the year than by Christmas, though the Knicker
bocker habit of calling is not appreciably observed. The per
manent barracks that had been building for some time were
occupied as early as the 18th of the month, though some com
panies had entered much earlier, as A on the 11th; B, the 13th
and 14th ; D, the 16th, and G, the 18th. Many of the boys prefer
their old tents, complaining of leaky roofs and lack of light,
for there was no lavish display of windows. Meanwhile dur
ing the month more work was done on Forts Mansfield, Reno
and Gains, at which latter place was the regimental hospital,
where, on the 26th, died Jonathan Baldwin of Company C, from
Cato, having taken an overdose of opium. Many men are
inducted into the nicety of artillery drill, though that of in
fantry is not neglected, there being five hours a day of the
latter. On the 8th Messrs. Moore and McCall of Lyons buy out
Sutler Davidson. The wife of Lieutenant Flynn comes to the
camp on the 10th, and on the 15th Mrs. Captain Gregory and
boy. Fort Mansfield barracks were occupied by the 1st Bat
talion, comprising Companies B, D, E and G, under Lieutenant
Colonel Seward. On the 23d Captain Crane of Company H
takes twenty men, and goes out to find the secret of certain
lights which at night have alarmed the guards. He finds, not
will-o'-the-wisps, but necessary illuminations for negro wood-
choppers three-fourths of a mile away; in such prosaic manner
do all the Ninth's troubles terminate.
As the regiment had been converted into a heavy artillery
body, it must be recruited to the latter's standard, and Lieu
tenant Bacon of Company D opened an office in Lyons on the
23d, and Lieutenant A. S. Wood of the same company is made
adjutant, vice W. R. Wasson, promoted major, since the new
organization allowed three majors among the field officers and
four lieutenants in each company; also there were to be twelve
companies instead of ten, as in the infantry. Captain James W.
Snyder of Company A was the first major under this change,
though his commission and that of Major Wasson were both
dated Dec. 31, 1862. Next to the last day of January witnesses
a brigade review conducted by Colonel L. O. Morris, in which
4

50 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
was displayed the proficiency acquired by months of honest
drill, and which months later was to bear rich fruit when these
same regiments of heavy artillery were to leave the forts of their
making and were to follow General Grant into the tangled
undergrowth of the Wilderness and up to the breastworks of
Cold Harbor.

CHAPTER VII.
Life in the Forts.
The most important regimental event of the month of Feb
ruary was the accession of Company M. It had been raised
in Genesee county as the 22d Independent Battery, and had
been mustered into the service of the United States Oct. 28th,
1862. The order for this union was dated February 5th, but
the company did not appear in regimental line till the very
last day of the month.
The regiment is getting pretty well used to routine duty, and
of work there is no lack. Forts, roads, huts, barracks, there
is ample employment for every one, and no end of drill besides.
The news of the day comes from Washington in the shape of
the Chronicle, Colonel John W. Forney's paper, whose pages
few soldiers of the Potomac army will ever forget. The alert
newsboy made a good business by furnishing his papers to reg
ular customers for twenty-five cents per week. Rules as to the
care of ammunition magazines were especially stringent, and
one of the best men in the regiment was sent to the guard
house because he did not detect a lighted pipe in the possession
of an ordnance sergeant who tried to play smart with the senti
nel. His captain, however, got him released speedily and he
went back to his post. The next time this sergeant (he didn't
belong to the Ninth) tried this trick he was himself arrested.
On the 15th a vigorous temperance movement was made by
the captain of Company B, who with a squad of men went out
and broke up a liquor hole, where men had been drinking them
selves into trouble. There were few regiments staying any
length of time near Washington that did not have similar ex
periences. For drunkenness all sorts of penalties were inflicted
such as standing on a barrel, wearing said barrel, or another

LIFE IN THE FORTS. 51
with only the man's head peering through, called a wooden
overcoat; lashed to a cannon's wheel, or doomed to keep up a
weary march for many long hours with a knapsack filled with
stones or solid shot, fifty pounds sometimes; and yet they
would drink if opportunity offered, i. e., some of the men, not
by any means those who detected fossiliferous limestones in
their digging, or made up the regular Bible-class. Temper
sometimes got the better of men who hardly wished to render
the military deference to the officers with whom they had been
reared and whom they thought no better than themselves.
Court-martials were not unknown, and very severe penalties
were at times inflicted. One man for threatening to strike his
captain was sentenced to serve his term of enlistment at hard
labor, one week in each month to have only a bread and water
diet, and to forfeit all pay. The place for the infliction of such
punishment was usually the Rip Raps, near Fortress Monroe.
As this particular soldier was discharged in 1865 in good re
pute, it must be that industry and repentance had worked re
mission. The first battalion drill was had on the 21st of Feb
ruary. The 22d was properly observed by a salute from all
the forts. About this time there is excitement in camp be
cause of an effort to enforce protection as against free trade
in pies. The men claimed that this particularly American
variety of pastry offered by outside parties was much better
than that sold by the sutler, but the edict went forth that it
must be the sutler's pies or none. As an immediate result,
smuggling of the most heinous character followed, for what
freeman could endure having restrictions imposed on pie? Had
not Ralph Waldo Emerson said that he rated the intellectual
ity of a people in accordance as they did or did not appreciate
pie? When it came to intellect the Ninth played second to no
one. The 28th saw the inspection of the regiment between
Forts Reno and Bayard on the grounds lately occupied by the
117th New York, which was about joining Burnside's corps.
Major Snyder is now in command in Fort Gains.
Among the Latins there were calendar days known as dies
non, or no days, and in our northern clime the month of all
others most eligible to the appellation mensis non is March. Disa
greeable in every way, everywhere, infinitely worse than the
English November, which Tom Hood so unmercifully lam
pooned, what wonder that the campers by Potomac's shore

52 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
found life almost a burden during its continuance? It was the
reign of slush, yet duty of all kind had to be performed, just
the same as though May blossoms were there. On the 3d of
the month a most distressing accident happened in Company
F, where a man carelessly discharged a gun, killing his wife,
the mother of two children. It was another instance of not
knowing that it was loaded. The horror of it was greater
than that of the battlefield.
The men had been in camp long enough to pretty thoroughly
indicate their dispositions and habits. Those that were filthy
by nature began to be obnoxious to their more cleanly neigh
bors, and crusades were waged against those who would not
keep themselves clear from body vermin. Then, too, the
natural shirk made himself evident. If he could get others to
do the work, he was perfectly content. Nothing inspired
promptness in him but meal-time. In Company G, out of a
shanty's complement, Private L. was notorious for waiting at
reveille till the very last moment, and then barefooted, clad in
drawers and shirt only, he would rush out to roll-call. Thence
going back he would crawl in till his tent-mates had built a
fire and prepared breakfast. There is a limit to all endurance,
and this was Comrade T.'s thought as he took a hot musket
ball, in some way left near the fire, and dropped it down the
back part of L.'s drawers conveniently exposed. There was no
hesitation in his resurrection. He came out quickly, effect
ually, and it is said blasphemously. The lesson was not lost.
There were still rifle-pits to be made, and probably would
have been if the regiment had remained in the defenses to the
end of its term of enlistment. There were advantages, how
ever, in this proximity to Washington and in having perma
nent quarters. Dentists came up from the Capital, and a bar
ber made a living, more or less, at his vocation. All did not
patronize the company cook, some preferring to boil, bake and
stew for themselves, and in this the highest degree of liberty
obtained. During these March nights the officers had military
schools, in which, as one of them said, they had to recite like
school-boys, page after page, all about the ranges of the guns
charges of powder, elevation, etc. It was a good thing for
them, too.
April was a distinct advance on its predecessor, but even it
was not faultless, since on the 5th April showers degenerated
into snow a foot deep.

LIFE IN THE FORTS. 53
With its new name and character, the regiment now pos
sessed a brass band, under the leadership of Jacob Sager of
Clyde. If he was more generally known in the 9th as "Jake,"
it was because of his ever ready and genial nature. The first
public appearance of this body was April 6, 1863. But a more
extended sketch of the band and its personnel will be given
in a later chapter. Georgetown is not so far away that men
can not go thither to church if they desire, and some of them
do, though anything so constrained as a church pew almost
gives them cramps.
May brings blossoms and better spirits to the boys, though
two men are injured in Fort Bayard through foolish tinkering
with a shell. The man who brought it into the camp deserted,
and thus escaped punishment. The weather is fine, and activ
ity along the lines of the Potomac army has its effect in the
defenses, for somehow rumors of rebel raids are constantly in
the air. Hooker's advance tends to magnify every bit of al
leged news. Pickets were reported driven in on the Virginia
side of the Chain Bridge the 11th, and the next day Lieutenant
Colonel Seward was hurt by a fall from his horse. During the
next week every cloud of dust indicated an attack of rebel
cavalry. Could the latter have been half as ubiquitous as our
men's fancy made them, they would have overrun the whole
North long before. On the 21st the long roll was responded
to by a grand rush to the forts and rifle-pits without order
or officers. Secretary Seward and family witness the dress-
parade on the 24th. In these days the officers are trying to se
cure better rifles for the men, but reforms are slow.
The forts, all made and armed, must now be decorated, and
consequently by the early part of June, they are completely
sodded. Anything to keep the boys busy! At 11 P. M. the
28th, another scare calls the men into the rifle-pits, and there
they remain till morn. Excitement is at fever heat. Soldiers
are making the discovery, sure to come to all sooner or later,
that those in authority who are the most lenient in matters
of discipline are not necessarily the best officers. Stories of
this sort are as old as the tale of the Retreat of the Ten Thou
sand under Xenophon.
June, 1863, is a busy month in Virgina. Hooker and Lee
are preparing for Gettysburg, and naturally the forts are hives
of apprehension. Diligence is not lacking, and shots enough

54 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
are flred at targets to enable the cannoneers to become excel
lent marksmen, if the need should arise. On the very first
day of the month, General Heintzelman said, "No more passes;"
but boys did leave the camp in citizen's clothing, just for the
fun of it, running the risk of severe punishment if caught. On
the 3d all women save those doing company work are ordered
from camp. Quite a number of officers and men had set up a
sort of primitive housekeeping. Possibly two or three soldiers'
wives, in each company, had been designated to do laundry
work, mending, etc.
Pickets are sent out each day, five from each company. The
7th New York Artillery is with us and the cavalry beyond.
It is early in this month that we have our first skirmish drill.
The regiment was in line on the parade-ground of Camp Morris,
near Fort Simmons, Company B at the right, Colonel Welling,
Lieutenant Colonel Seward and the other staff officers being
in front of the centre. After a brief consultation with his staff
officers, Colonel Welling gave the following order to the first
sergeant of Company B : "Orderly Fish, I direct you to organize
a skirmish line from this battalion." Sergeant Fish promptly
called the battalion to attention and directed to count in fives,
which numbers (fives) he marched three paces to the front, and
the left guide sergeants of the respective companies one pace
to the front. After dressing the line, Sergeant Fish reported
to Colonel Welling that the skirmish line was organized. Here
was begun the drill in which the regiment soon became pro
ficient, as was shown later in field service.
Tuesday, the 9th of June, Secretaries Seward and Salmon P.
Chase of the treasury favor us with a call. Two days later,
in the night, the men again rallied to the forts; the next night
the long roll brought on another scare. The wonder is that
so many false cries of "wolf" did not produce a condition of
indifference. The Harper's Ferry road is thoroughly picketed.
Each day brings its reports, each more startling than its pred
ecessor. Lieutenant Colonel Seward had been away in Auburn,
but these rumors of rebel attack bring him back on the 16th, that
he may be on hand if needed. Again the long roll in the night
of the 18th resulted in keeping the men out in the rain, and all
because an over-cautious sentinel had fired his gun at a horse.
The 21st cannonading is heard seemingly at Thoroughfare Gap
[it really is at Upperville]. The 23d Companies D and G

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HEADQUARTERS 9th BATTALION, 2d N. Y. H. A. FORT C F. SMITH.
LIFE IN THE FORTS. 55
with two from the 1st Maine Heavy Artillery, march ten miles
to a point near Fort Thayer on the Baltimore & Washington
railroad to work on rifle-pits and batteries, three miles from
Washington and two from Bladensburg. On the same day A
tents followed, the entire detachment being under the com
mand of Major Shepard* of the 1st Maine. The men dig ten
hours a day, all on account of fear of rebel cavalry that are
reported prowling about. These companies remained here till
July 8th, when they returned to their quarters.
The efforts to secure a better gun succeeded in part, and on
the 24th of June some of the companies were supplied with
Springfield muskets. The 28th brought a scare pretty near the
forts, since on that day, between Tennallytown and Rockville,
the rebels captured and destroyed a large wagon-train. This was
bringing the sound of arms right home, and as a consequence-
excitement ran high.t Cavalry pickets were driven in, and it
did seem for a while as though the boys might have some
fighting to do.
July, the memorable month of 1863, finds the Ninth at em
ployment no more warlike than the handling of pick and shovel,
and filling in the chinks with drilling. The consciousness that
some one must do such work was consoling to certain ones,
but more were restive under the routine, and many grumbling
letters were written home. "Gettysburg" is on every lip, and
the boys remark on their having all the hard work and none of
the glory, though they did think there was some chance for
them when Stuart came so near. The women and the sick
were sent to Washington, and every preparation was made to
withstand an attack. The band was ordered upon the breast
works, and bade play "Yankee Doodle" for all that they were
worth. The boys had lots of wind, and they pumped it into

*Major Russell B. Shepard subsequently became colonel of the regi
ment and brevet brigadier general. When, the next year, the regi
ment went to the front, it was soon in the thickest of the fight, and its
death record in battle was the largest of all the 2,047 regiments that
made up the Union army.
tThis was another of J. E. B. Stuart's phenomenal attacks. It was a
part of the campaign which ended at Gettysburg. He actually came
within less than five miles of the District line. There were 125
wagons in the train, whose subsequent keeping, it is claimed, hindered
Stuart's progress and so contributed to Lee's defeat; really, then, a
blessing in disguise.

56 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
their horns till some prisoners who were brought in later de
clared they thought the sound came from a brigade aggrega
tion. It was the colonel's idea that music might encourage
soldiers as well as charm the savage ear.
On the very first day of July, a part of Company C goes to
Battery Vermont, and later twenty-five men from each company
go daily to Fort Simmons for fatigue duty. Seemingly the
regiment was having an opportunity to turn over, at least once,
the soil of the entire District, with some of Maryland's besides.
It was in this month that Colonel Welling had some passages
at verbal arms with Colonel Morris, commanding the brigade.
Our colonel intimated that his men were having more than
their share of the digging to do, and that he would like to see
other organizations equally pressed. In such a contest, one
need not be told where the sympathies of his soldiers were.
In another bout with the colonel of the 7th, in a fort directly
under the latter's command, Colonel Welling saw one of his
men doing police duty wearing ball and chain. He at once
asked Colonel Morris why the man should be thus punished
without his own knowledge. Morris flew into a passion at
once and challenged Welling, saying, "Choose your weapons."
Our officer replied that all the weapons he wanted were those
that God had given him, but a pugilistic encounter did not
appear to be to the older officer's taste, and the two colonels
separated, Welling going back to his camp. While a fight
with the weapons furnished by nature might have been exciting,
and whose details might enliven these pages, we can not help
rejoicing that both men had good substrata of common sense.
Before sunset, the 9th Heavy man was released and sent back
to his own quarters.
Of course the warm weather warranted more out-of-doors
living and an accompanying change of fare. The boys who had
made griddle-cakes and pies in the winter now tried their
hands at custards and Dutch cheese, but even these did not
save some of them from the grip of nostalgia, or homesickness.
There are men living to-day who would have died as soldiers
had not their discharges been given, yet the most careful
diagnosis could discover nothing wrong with bodily functions.
Their troubles were of the head and heart, and Shakespeare
discovered that it was impossible to administer to minds dis
eased. The homesick man had not much sympathy from his

FORT FOOTE. 57
comrades; he may even have received their ridicule, but he
was not cured, and while other reasons may have been as
signed for the discharge, the real one was an irresistible desire
to see the old home and the loved ones.
In the regular chapter of accidents, James Allen of Company
K unfortunately shoots himself on the 27th, and dies in just
one week, his wife arriving on the morning of his death. His
comrades paid the expenses incident to sending his body home
to the town of Galen, where, in the cemetery at Furguson's
Corners, it was laid away for the eternal sleep.
August arrives with its blistering heat, and still the routine
is little varied. On the 6th was observed the day of thanks
giving, praise and prayer, proclaimed by the president in token
of the signal victories won at Vicksburg and Gettysburg. One
private who had a pass to Washington on this day remarked
on the closing of all places of business. He might just as well
have stayed in camp, so far as benefit from his trip was con
cerned. On Sunday, however, he fared better, for then he went
into the country and dined with a citizen, who quite won his
heart through refusing to take pay for his hospitality. Many
firm friendships were established in this way.
The 13th Companies B and K exchanged places, B going to
Fort Gains and K to Fort Mansfield. The day before had been
promulgated the most important order for many a long month.
It was to the effect that Companies C, D, E and G, forming a
battalion, the 2d under the command of Lieutenant Colonel
Seward, should proceed to a point south of Washington, and
there construct a large fort. Accordingly at 5 A. M. on the
14th, accompanied by the regimental band, these companies
set forth, and from the wharf at the foot of D street took a
boat for Rozier's Bluff, where a landing was made at about
noon.

CHAPTER VIII.
Fort Foote.
For the ensuing nine months there is to be a pretty effectual
separation of the 2d Battalion from the other two, which re
mained in their former quarters. In addition to Lieutenant

58 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Colonel Seward the detachment is accompanied by Major Taft.
The site selected for the fortification is a very steep bluff 100
feet high, four miles from Alexandria, eight from Washington
and on the same side of the Potomac. It was to be the only
defense between Fort Washington and the District line. It
proved to be one of the very largest of the cordon of forts
which encircled the city. It was wholly outside of the District
and faced the mouth of Hunting creek, on whose south bank
was the nearest considerable neighbor, viz., Fort Lyon. Alex
andria became the base of supplies, whence also came a daily
mail and other necessities. Corporal E. W. Newberry of Com
pany D, who had pulled many an oar on Great Sodus bay,
became the post's ferryman, and with his crew semi-daily he
rows to and fro for his comrades. The locality, though elevated,
was particularly malarial, so much so that by the neighboring
inhabitants it was called the grave-yard of Prince George
county. Nor did it belie its name, as the long list of sick and
dead from typhoid fever and like diseases bore ample testimony.
Assistant Surgeon Dwight W. Chamberlain accompanied the
battalion, and by his care of the ailing won the regard of all.
Those who had served so extended an apprenticeship at dig
ging in the northern part of the District were now to have an
other and extended opportunity to develop their muscle and to
assist in rendering secure the most talked of city in America.
Apparently the new fort is of special interest to General J. G.
Barnard, who had in charge the laying out of the majority of
Washington's defenses, for on the 21st, just one week after
the arrival of our boys, he came down with no less distin
guished guests than the president, Secretary Stanton, Generals
Heintzelman and Haskins,with many other officers and citizens.
If all that they saw was not in proper order, let us hope
that every defect received its proper ascription.
This is the season of peaches and melons. If the men of the
Ninth make long marches, by no means forced, all alono- the
Potomac shore of Maryland, it is not on topography bent but
rather to afford a home market for the special products of
that favored locality. There is no diary of this period that
does not teem with records of luscious fruit and juicy melons
the very recollection of which, to this day, makes the veteran's
mouth water. As offered for sale in the camp, everything is
surprisingly cheap. A haversack full of peaches costs but

FORT FOOTE. 59
twelve and one-half cents, and that receptacle would hold well
towards a peck. The weather is extremely warm, but this does
not delay the work, a large part of which is done upon the road
leading up from the river to the camp and fort. The hours of
toil are not made more agreeable by the stories that visitors
from Fort Simmons tell of the restful, quiet times they are
having there. Early in September, 150 men from the four
companies are working ten hours each day, but just how hard
some of them labor may be inferred from their taking a stint
on the 8th, which they complete before 10 A. M. Men are only
boys of a larger growth. About this time the malarial climate
began to get in its work, and by the 10th nearly or quite one-
half of the officers and men are on the sick list, among them
Major Taft, who is so badly off that even drums and bugles
are suppressed. As he convalesced ten days later, the major
was carried to a neighboring farm-house, thinking that he
might improve more rapidly there. On this very day, the 21st,
our lieutenant colonel is taken down, and on the following day
his father, the secretary, comes and has him removed to Wash
ington ; so weak is the colonel he is borne from the camp to the
boat upon -a stretcher. The hospital record for these
autumnal days is a sad one of sickness and death.
To unacclimated people the river's shore was often pestalen-
tial. In this year, 1898, when so much is said of suffering
soldiers in Cuba, it is not amiss to remember that equally
great affliction was had along this Potomac river in the years of
the Rebellion, and very little note was made of it, the death loss
in battle being so much more conspicuous.* The funeral march
became the one most often heard. Just before Major Taft was
attacked, the camp was moved down the river, hoping thus to
find a healthier place. Meanwhile warlike preparations go for
ward, and the earthworks slowly arise for the reception of
guns, and on the 25th their carriages begin to arrive. The 25th
gladdens many a heart, for on this day the major returns to
camp, though he has to ride back in an ambulance.
*Whitelaw Reid, historian of Ohio in the War of the Rebellion, says
that the 169th, which spent its 100 days at Port Ethan Allen in 1864,
had 200 men in that time die or be permanently disabled through dis
ease alone. More than fifty died. At the same time the 133d, an
other 100-day regiment, stationed at Port Powhatan, on the James,
had 300 men down with fever. If the public knew this at the time, it
has certainly forgotten it in the clamor over Cuban malaria.

60 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
October 1st is a memorable day, for then Secretary Seward
and friends appear and give the works their name, and those
who hear it are not disappointed, for that of Commodore
Foote,* the river hero of Forts Henry and Donelson, was al
ready a cherished one in America. Sickness causing the ao-
sence of the field officers, who had been helped from the camp,
Major Snyder came down on the 4th and took command. An
immense 200-pound Parrott gun arrives on the 13th, and on
the 22d has its first trial, at which time Secretaries Chase and'
Welles (of the Navy), Generals Barnard and Augur with nu
merous others came to witness the event.
The hospital is a very important part of the camp, and has
dimensions, 20x100 feet; none too large for the increasing num
ber of sick. On the 31st no less than twenty-two men are
furloughed home, that they may vote in the November elec
tions. Persimmons follow peaches, and those who know how
to wait for the ripening fruit till Jack Frost has touched them
find them a most enjoyable dainty, but the injudicious adven
turer who, lured by their tempting yellow skin, tasted them
out of season, has ascribed any subsequent oral difficulties to
that early indiscretion.
While, November 3d, voters at home are recording their polit
ical opinions, there is nothing more for soldiers to do than to
just express their feelings, which many of them do. One care
ful observer says, "There are few Democrats in the army, or
if there are they are ashamed to own it." On the 6th comes
the big fifteen-inch gun, which is rolled, not carried, to the fort.
The 11th marks the completion of barracks for Companies C
and G, and on the 16th those companies with E move in On
the 19th D followed. The 22d, Sunday, Sergeant Devoe of
Company G preached in the hospital. The 28th marked the
advent of stores for cook-house and barracks, though the
quantity is pronounced insufficient; more came later
December 22d four Russian war vessels are noted moving up
the river. Winter settles down upon the men, some of whom
reflect that they are not doing much for the war, "but some
one must stay here." The mess-house, 16x40 feet, is opened on
•Andrew Hull Foote, born in New Haven, Conn., September 12th,
1806, died in New York city June 26, 1863. Named for one naval hero
served his apprenticeship under Porter, another,-what wonder that
he made his own name a proud one in his country's annals.

FORT FOOTE. 61
the 10th. Christmas, so lively and jolly at home, is dull enough
here for many, though some, having made acquaintances
among the near-by citizens, find home sensation in calling,
even if there secesh notions abound, for youth ever rises supe
rior to political and sectional feelings. Romeo and Juliet were
from opposing houses. Then there were cases of fun and jollity
right in camp, since in Company D Captain Lyon ordered ten
gallons of oysters and twelve dollars' worth of poultry. Henry
Porter of Sodus Point and J. J. Vickery of Lyons went out with
guns and dogs and secured a buck deer weighing 200 pounds,
all of which served to brighten the surroundings not a little.
1864.
January brings very little variety to the camp, though drill
of all kinds is kept up regularly with accompanying inspections
and dress-parades. In these quiet days and this secluded place,
the officers have an excellent opportunity to study regulations
and tactics, which some of them conscientiously seize. Mean
while the weather becomes very cold, and the Potomac freezes
so hard that, on the 8th, the boat makes landings on the ice.
The next day, men cross the river on the ice to Alexandria.
Cleanliness is maintained, and in spite of the weather the bar
racks are regularly scrubbed and kept in the best of order.
Those who can obtain permission to visit Forts Simmons, Reno
and other old stamping-grounds, just for the maintenance of
friendly relations and the return of courtesies, for the officers
and men from those parts as often as possible came down to
the fort.
Though as good as the average soldiers, all of the Ninth's
men were not angels and court-martials were not unknown,
though it would puzzle some, after this lapse of years, to tell
what they were all about. However important then, they have
been forgotten in the hurry of later living. The ice reign con
tinues in the river and boats have to break their way through.
Officers are responsible for the care of company funds aris
ing from the use of government appropriations for rations.
Instead of dealing out to each man his portion, all combine
and live in common, thereby saving so much that luxuries
otherwise impossible are obtained, and, besides, the individual
is spared the necessity of preparing his own food, certain ones
from each company being quite willing to serve in the capacity

62 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
of cooks for all. Whatever there might be over and above the
cost of rations could be applied to the purchasing of better
equipment for the mess-tables. A strict accounting was re
quired from the officer in charge, and while no scandal ever
arose in our regiment there were those, during the war, whose
officers had no end of trouble in making clear their relations
to the respective funds.
Captain William Wood made out on the 16th no less than
ten discharge papers, for disability incident to the situation
is great. Fever germs still linger, and there are few men at
the post, notwithstanding the cold weather, who do not use
a deal of quinine. To crown all these disadvantages, on the
19th of January Post Adjutant Redgraves is taken down with
the small-pox. But there are diversions for those who call
themselves well, and catching rabbits in the snow is great fun
for the boys; the feelings of the victims are not recorded.
February 1st was made noteworthy in Company D by the
change from tin dishes to earthenware, all through the hus
banding of the company fund. The other companies were
likewise equipped, then or later. As Chaplain Mudge had re
mained with the larger part of the regiment, preaching was
had on Sunday by different men, the Christian Commission
occasionally sending a minister. There are some indications of
home life, for several officers and men have their better-halves
with them, and calls on St. Valentine's day are on record.
On the 17th there is ice three inches thick on the river. Wash
ington's birthday marks the taking command of Company D by
Captain Bacon, Captain Lyon having resigned. The latter de
parted for home on the 27th, and in going away made a good
speech, which the boys cheered to the echo.
The great Rodman gun is still a curiosity, and has to have a
drill of its own. The 27th two shots were fired from the 200-
pound Parrott and three from the 15-inch Rodman, solid globes
of iron weighing 433 pounds. Crowds of visitors beheld the trial.
To take the places of the many discharged and to bring the
companies up to the maximum limit, numerous recruits come
in during these weeks, occasionally to be stigmatized as "small
boys" by those longer in the service; some even say, "No good."
Time will tell whether such judgment is right or not. Lieuten
ant Colonel Seward returned to his duties on the 19th and
his hand is soon evident in every direction. His illness had in

FORT FOOTE. 63
no way impaired his vigor. On the 29th, Leap year's day, the
battalion was mustered for four months' pay.
Another March is not without the expected characteristics
of the month. The biggest snow-storm of the season came on
the 23d, and New York boys were reminded of their own Lake
Ontario region. In addition to the regular physical ills of this
locality there came an epidemic of sore throats. The 18th of
March brings forty-two recruits to Company G. Secretary Sew
ard does not forget his boy, and frequently drops down the river
to see him and the latter's men. On the 13th he came with cer
tain foreigners as guests, possibly Prussians. In his honor the
big flag was hung out, but the strong wind with so much sail
was too much for the staff, and it broke above the upper splice.
Then the soldier carpenters had to repair it, which they were
abundantly able to do as well as to build docks at the river's
edge, and to make anything that ws needed. Officers main
tain an evening class to perfect themselves in military knowl
edge. The 24th a target was set up across the river, the dis
tance having been ascertained by computation, for the Ninth
was ready for any sort of exaction.
As it has ever done, whiskey gets men into trouble, and the
army was a particularly fine field for evidencing its power.
One of the battalion, noted for his love of the intoxicating cup,
gets drunk, makes a raid into the neighboring country, and
winds up his carouse with a musket ball in his leg, sent there
by an irate countryman, whom he had most grievously offended.
This same soldier was noted for his range of tricks and pranks;
he was the man who once smuggled a quantity of liquor out
of Alexandria by putting his flasks in a child's coffin and then
with a sad face, such as a bereaved father might be expected
to wear, he bore his spirits, by no means departed, across the
river and into camp. The closing incident of the month was
the adventure of a Company E drummer, who rowed a boat to
a low island in the river, and leaving it unfastened, with the
rising tide it floated off; and he on account of the same tide
had to spend the night in a tree, an experience he never forgot,
though he had an unexampled opportunity to reflect on the
Darwinian theory which ascribes to early humanity traits that
were decidedly arboreal.
The following is a fair presentation of daily routine, the
same being from notes made at the time:

64 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Reveille at day-break.
Breakfast at 7 o'clock.
Fatigue from 7.30 to 11.30.
Dinner at 12 M.
Fatigue from 1 to 5 P. M.
Supper at 6 o'clock.
For those who were not laboring there was drill from 2 to 4
P. M. In the evening, there were whist or other diversions
till 9 o'clock; then came taps, and sleep till the next reveille
called to wakefulness and work. With plenty of quinine to
keep off the chills, there was no trouble as to appetite.
April, the month of budding hopes, finds the battalion still
preparing. On the first, or All Fools' day, a large party comes
down from Washington to witness the workings of the big
guns. The great Rodman is fired at 25 degrees elevation, three
miles' range. On the 6th comes the first skirmish drill here,
of which there is afterwards frequent recurrence. Scarcely
a day without some additions to the ranks by way of recruits.
The 17th, Sunday, Episcopal service is conducted by an army
chaplain, not ours.
The event of the month was the presentation, on the 23d, of
an elegant sword costing $350 to Lieutenant Colonel Seward.
This amount was raised by his fellow soldiers, and was made
an inspiring occasion by the presence of many friends, includ
ing ladies from Washington, the regimental band, etc. In the
presence of the battalion, Captain William Wood of Company
G spoke eloquently as follows:
"In this time of peril, of suspense, and of doubt, when the
shifting fortunes of war, and the stern duties upon every citi
zen in consequence, render it uncertain whether those who, as
comrades in battle stand shoulder to shoulder in the defense
of their country to-day, may not, by the relentless decree of
fate or the imperative necessity of their country's good, be
separated to-morrow, to meet again, never; if it is fit for them
to give expression to their affectionate regard, especially is it
fit for soldiers to give expression to their devotion to their
commander; and that which in the quiet times of peace would
be a tame and meaningless ceremony is big with interest and
earnest feeling. Colonel Seward, reluctantly, because con
scious of my inability to perform in a befitting manner the com
plimentary office assigned me, I appear, in behalf of the 2d

FORT FOOTE. 65
Battalion, to say to you that the officers and men, that every
officer, and every man, now or recently connected with it, un
less so recently attached as to have been deprived of the privi
lege, have an interest in making the request of you, that you
will accept this steel from donors who are happy and proud
to bestow it, as a memorial of their high appreciation of your
impartial justice, their confidence in your unflinching courage
and their admiration of your exalted leadership. Take it, and
join with them as they know you do in reverential trust that
the Omnipotent Disposer of all things will give success to our
finance, and success to our arms. Take it and join with them,
as they are sure you do, in the firm and fixed resolve that the
stars and stripes shall never permanently cease to float over
one inch of territory where it ever waved. Take it and be
assured that with it, you have, without dissimulation, the
hearts ever true of the officers and men of the 2d Battalion.
It is from zealous and willing men to their energetic and effi
cient chief."
To these words Colonel Seward made fitting response, touch
ing feelingly on the cordial relations so long existing among
them, and all felt that the day was a precursor of one when
the regiment might reverse the Scriptural sentence and so
transform their picks, shovels and other instruments of hus
bandry into those of war.
The next day drill was resumed as usual, and one man
records four roll-calls. Obviously, no man guilty or otherwise
was to be allowed to escape. In firing a 200-pound Parrott the
26th, a shell exploded at the muzzle of the gun. Luckily no
one was hurt. The month ends with a large party of men
building a road through some neighboring woods.
May is to end the stay of the battalion in Fort Foote, a place
in which its members had been so long that some of them
actually began to refer to it as home. Coming events were
making themselves felt, if not by forecasted shadows, at any
rate in more drill in the extensive assortment that was dealt
out to all heavy artillery regiments. May 7th Companies E
and C left for forts across the Eastern Branch, a long way
around by water, but only a little distance had there been
means of communication by land. Extensive preparations are
making in all the companies for an active campaign. Extra
clothing is packed for storage, or is sent home. On the 10th D
5

66 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
and G take their departure, going direct to Alexandria. The
battalion had done well the duty assigned, and now a new
field was opening before it and the remainder of the regiment.

CHAPTER IX.
Soldiering in the Defenses.
The 2d Battalion having betaken itself to Rozier's Bluff, the
other seven companies were left to their accustomed diversions
in the forts which they had so largely themselves constructed.
During the ensuing summer and winter they were disposed
as follows: Companies A, I and M, under Colonel Welling,
were at Fort Simmons; H and K, at Fort Mansfield, under
Major Snyder; B, at Fort Gains, and F, at Fort Bayard. Ex
cept for personal incident, there was very little in the follow
ing months to distinguish one week from another. The general
health of the men was good; drill with attendant fatigue duty
kept their appetites up to the size of their rations. Large and
roomy barracks were constructed, into which the several com
panies moved in due time, and there a degree of bodily comfort
was had quite unknown in their former experience. The repu
tation of the Ninth as a fort and road builder with its hold on
distinguished Washington circles insured for it many guests
on parade occasions, though Secretary Seward, at present, is
turning his face toward Fort Foote.
Many of the officers and men had their families with them,
a practice prevalent among all the regiments doing garrison
duty about Washington, thereby permitting pleasures quite
rare in a soldier's life. Small houses were built near the bar
racks, thus admitting a condition of privacy otherwise impos
sible. When men kept house in this manner, they did not
live in commons, but drew their rations, adding thereto such
other articles as their needs demanded. Frequently they fur
nished table-board for officers who were unmarried or who had
not brought their partners to the fort. So comfortable was
barrack-life that occasionally young soldiers became almost
lazy, but woe to the boy who thought to take daylight naps
undisturbed. In Company I a lad of rather indolent nature
had become a sound sleeper, even in the daytime, and roguish

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soldiering in the defenses. 67
comrades determined to break him of his habit. Accordingly
they tied to one of his ankles a strong rope and to the other
end of said cord a heavy stone, and this they dropped through
a gable window, near which the sleeper's bunk was located.
Whenever he moved in his dreams, as his tormentors took good
care that he should, the weight drew him outward and gradually
upward till at last he was footed, not headed, for the window.
Waking and finding himself thus inverted, he yelled in terror
till his captain, responsive, came and cut him down. The ac
companying jeers of his comrades effectually ended midday
slumbers for him.
During the long summer months, morning came early and
the bugler held no sinecure. He sounded the reveille at day
break. The company-cooks had been up a long time, for break
fast-call came at 5.30, with the surgeons' following hard after
at 6 o'clock; company police at 6.30. Then he continued to
sound thus:
Artillery-drill, 7 to 8. Battalion-drill, 4 P. M.
Fatigue, 6.30 and 11.30. Dress-parade, 6 o'clock.
Guard-mount, 7 o'clock. Dress-parade, S'days, 5.30.
Infantry-drill, 8.30 and 10. Supper, 7 o'clock.
Orderlies' call, 10.30. Retreat at sundown.
Dinner, 12 M. Tattoo, 8.30.
General police, 1.30 P. M. Taps, 9 o'clock P. M.
The man who responded to his share of the foregoing routine
came pretty near earning the stipend that the government al
lowed him.
To every phase of camp-life the average man speedily adapts
himself. His love of the ludicrous, his power of invention and
his never-failing fund of variety suggest diversions that in mem
ory, at least, are delightful. There were few. to whom that day
break bugle-call was not unconscionably early, yet fear of extra
police duty made them get into line, in some shape, before the
final notes of fife and drum had died away. Can the man be
found who first gave the rhythmic interpretations of these
calls? Some would hardly bear rendering to ears polite, but
there were those that were clean and bright. The liquid notes
of reveille were seldom ended without some one shouting in
tune words that just fitted the bugle sounds:

68 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
"I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up this morning;
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I S— A— Y.
The corporal's worse than the private,
The sergeant's worse than the corporal,
The lieutenant's worse than the sergeant,
The captain's worst of them A— L— L."
Then as the final note died away in melodious attenuation,
the fife and drum took up their part, and did mortal ears ever
catch more inspiring music than that which they afforded,
most often that never-wearying "Girl I Left Behind Me," and
many a lad ran, buttoning his clothes as he hurried into line,
humming to himself, "Oh, lonely, weary are the hours,
Since I crossed the hills to Nadjie."
There was no parade precision about roll-call, but every man
must respond to his name or be accounted for if he would save
himself trouble. Sometimes there were responses aside from
the stereotyped "here" which followed the first sergeant's call
of one's name, as when, on a particularly cold spring morning,
just after the accession of several recruits, for the first time
were heard the words, "Patrick O'Rourke," though that was
not the name. In the richest of brogue, from the extreme left
of the line came immediately, "Hare; and d — d sorry fur it, too."
Mess-call was heard with pleasure by those to whose sharp
ened appetites food was ever welcome, though the interpreta
tion might not captivate Delmonico's diners. It ran thus:
"Soupy, soupy, soupy, without any bean,
Porky, porky, porky, without any lean,
Coffee, coffee, coffee, without any cream."
It is a sad comment on human nature that when there was
plenty of work to do, the line of men responding to the sur
geons' call was a long one. It is a wonder that many surgeons,
except in case of actual wounds, did not have in mind the
Scriptural words: "All men are liars;" still, the best of men
under fire and on the march all hated fatigue duty. This is one
of the interpretations of the call, based on the surgeon's fre
quent prescriptions. Had castor oil been equally rhythmic, that
also had been heard in the version :
"Get your quinine, get your quinine,
'Twill cure your ills, 'twill cure your pains,
Get your q-u-i-n-i-n-e— e— e— e."

SOLDIERING IN THE DEFENSES. 69
Another version often heard was :
"Are you all dead? are you all dead?
No, thank the Lord, there's a few left yet,
There's a few— left— yet."
After all, what the soldiers wanted was an excuse from duty
rather than medicine. One man persisted in wearing shoes too
short for him, thus crippling his feet, and his commonly ac
cepted title was "Old Sore-toes." He seldom failed to re
spond to the call, and he did precious little duty. "I had a cold
sweat last night," or, "I feel all played out," called for an
exhibiting of the tongue, a test of the pulse and the regular
prescription of castor oil and quinine. The surgeons knew their
men pretty well and seldom did them an injustice. When, on
a march, the weakling wanted to ride in the ambulance, he
would frequently be told that if he didn't feel better after a
while he could ask the doctor again. Some did; more didn't.
When the day was done and, at 9 o'clock, it was time for
"lights out," the bugle-call that sounded on the evening air
was as sweet as —
"Horns of elfland faintly blowing!"
Whatever the soldier forgets or remembers, the notes of
taps will never fail his memory, and sleepily he follows the de
licious melody as it swells, and anon sinks away in dying
echoes. To soldierly ears it said, "Put out your lights," re
peated four or five times, though another and more popular
wording was, "Go to bed," repeated in same manner. In the
defenses, passed from fort to fort ; from hill-top to hill-top, each
night it encircled the Capital with a chain of linked sweetness
unexcelled since "the morning stars sang together and all the
sons of God shouted for joy."
Every company had a certain number of mechanics, and
these men made themselves useful in building under the direc
tion of government engineers nearly everything that made up
the forts and their equipments. Batteries, rifle-pits, and walls,
all of them continued to make of the vicinity anything but an
ideal farming section. Letters came from home with due regu
larity, at least to many of the boys, and visitors from the home
locality were not infrequent. The members of Company B will
not forget the job some of them put up on one of their visitors
who found the dispensary with the liquid entertainment af-

70 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
forded there exceedingly pleasant. Having prevailed on one
of the attendants to act as guard, when at a late hour the
party broke up, they were halted and all save the visitor
skulked according to programme, he dodged back into the dis
pensary, and, with his boots on, crawled into bed with a colored
boy, who vainly protested against such intrusion. Failing to
hush the cries of the contraband, and expecting the guard to
enter at any moment, the unhappy civilian determined to make
a grand rush, and darted forth, but the make-believe guard
was equally alert, and having listened to his pleadings for quiet
with the negro-boy, he commanded a halt, and brought his
gun to a firing posture, at the same time cocking it. The omi
nous click of the hammer produced an immediate halt, and the
gentleman was arrested as a suspicious character and for dis
turbing the quiet of the camp. He claimed to be a guest of
one of the surgeons and desired his protection, but the latter
heeded not his appeal. Then he turned to another well-known
citizen of Wayne county, and he too denied any and all ac
quaintance, absolutely refusing to recognize the incidents
brought forward by the visitor, though at last he did allow
that he had seen the arrested man drunk in Georgetown. The
situation was becoming more involved, and the poor man's hair
was fairly standing on end with fright, when he claimed to be
a second cousin of one of his tormentors, who finally granted
that he had seen the man "up North," and the boys ended the
farce, but the visitor never forgot the scare, nor the colored boy
the white man's anxiety to sleep with him.
The captain of one of the companies, though a brave officer,
had queer notions of what he might exact of his men. He
had bought a condemned government horse and then tried
to keep him at the expense of the boys, who maintained their
regular fund. He thought the extra bread of the men which
they were wont to trade for milk, etc., would keep his steed
nicely, and so ordered them to cease trading; such tyranny was
resented of course, and all hoped that something might happen
to that horse, and eventually he appeared minus his switch.
All were happy but the captain, and he was raging; but the
perpetrator of the deed was not revealed till many years after
the war. The horse was disposed of, and the boys were again
permitted to do as they liked with their own.
In Fort Bayard, Company F boys varied the monotony a

SOLDIERING IN THE DEFENSES. 71
little by playing a practical joke on Lieutenant L.'s colored
steward Jim. It was about the time when the government was
organizing certain colored regiments, and active negroes were
in request. Jim was bright, active and good natured, and about
seventeen years old. He was universally popular, but the sol
diers must have their fun. One day in Washington he had
seen a squad of colored soldiers, armed and equipped, escorting
some recruits to headquarters. Somehow or other it came into
his head that they "just gobbled up ebery nigger dat dey come
cross," as he put it. He was so frightened lest he, too, be
taken, he left his errand undone and started for home as fast
as his legs would carry him. He told his lieutenant how he
had been chased and that only his superior swiftness saved
him, and for some time Washington errands were not entrusted
to Jim, for neither love nor money could induce him to venture
near the city. Knowing his mortal terror the boys determined
to give him the fright of his life, and selecting a night when the
lieutenant was away from his company, they chose one of their
number who was well suited to play the part, and plentifully
covering his face and hands with burnt cork, dressed him in a
sergeant's uniform. Then they put him into quarters near
those of Jim. The participants were properly placed, when a
messenger was sent for Jim, who duly responded. No sooner
had he entered the door than one of the soldiers said, "Jim,
we are sorry to lose you, but the time has come when you must
go to the front and help fight the rebels." Jim looked anxious
and turned his big eyes about till they seemed all whites. "You
know the government is raising a colored regiment in Wash
ington, and the officers are taking every able-bodied young
negro they can find. Somehow they have learned that you are
here as a servant and that you are trying to keep out of their
sight, so the colonel has sent a sergeant after you. If you do
not go, or try to escape, he will kill you." Poor Jim's black
face was actually growing white with misery, for he had seen
the black sergeant seated in the farther end of the quarters.
At this moment the sergeant arose and said, "You black rascal,
I want you, and if you try to run away, I'll shoot you," at the
same time showing his pistol. Jim asked permission to go to
his tent to get some articles of clothing, and was closely followed
by the sergeant. The earthworks ran along in front of Jim's
quarters, and beyond them extended miles of open fields and

72 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
woods. It was expected that Jim would take a chance of
escape here, and he did. He cleared the works at a bound and
made for the woods. "Halt;" but the only sound sent back
from the darkness was the whack of Jim's big feet as they bore
him with deerlike fleetness to the refuge of the forest. The
boys were certain that they heard the clatter of his flight for
at least five minutes, though their own laughter must have
drowned some of the noise he made. Taps sounding soon after,
silence fell upon the camp, but the fugitive did not return till
late the following night, and for several weeks he was in a con
dition of constant alarm. When, however, the whole scheme
was unfolded to him, he laughed as heartily as the boys them
selves. All the boys did not take equally kindly to their rations, at
least till they had become hardened somewhat. As a recruit,
came a young man of gentle rearing, to whose palate coarse
army fare was by no means fitted. The tin plate upon which
lay a boiled potato and a big piece of "salt-horse" or pork did
not rouse his appetite to any great extent. Indeed, his face
was wont to assume an air of disgust, which was extremely
amusing to his better inured comrades, whom nothing phased.
One day when a squad returned from several hours' work at
road-building fairly famished, and to whom quantity was of
vastly more consequence than quality, boiled hominy was the
chief item of food, and it didn't take the men long to dispose
of the seemingly scanty supply. This was particularly true of
B — , a good but quite rough soldier, whose native bluntness of
speech several years' experience on the Erie canal had not
polished in the least. His hunger was still far from being ap
peased, and he began to look about for a chance, like Oliver
Twist, to secure "more." There was the poor recruit daintily
tasting his coarse fare, his stomach on the verge of rejection
even then, while his face wore its chronic "I-wish-I-were-at-
home" look. It frequently happened that the hominy contained
large white worms having brown heads. The hungry soldiers,
inured to all sorts of hardships, had learned long before either
to shut their eyes when eating this dish or to just spoon the
obnoxious wiggler and eat what was left. B— seeing the lad'.*
disgust chose him for his victim, and approaching asked him
how he liked his hominy. To which query came the reply that
he didn't like it, he never was used to eating such stuff. "Do

OUT FOR FUN. ,
Alonzo Bowen (I) and Michael Murphy (I). "Yank" Gifford (F) and "Charley" Keen (F).

SOLDIERING IN THE DEFENSES. 73
you find any worms in your dish?" This terribly shocked the
boy, and he replied, "No, did you?" "Oh, yes," said B — , "two
big ones," and opening his mouth, "Can't you see their entrails
between my teeth?" though he used a much shorter and more
expressive word than entrails. Alas for the fastidious youth,
who rushed out to do what the whale did when tired of Jonah,
and long before he returned B — had saved him any further
apprehension as to that special dish of hominy.
Some readers may recall the German, John L., and his reli
gious experience as already related. He was a good soldier, al
ways in the best of trim, his clothes, gun and equipment as
bright as a new pin. He was apparently used to the strictest
discipline, and we thought he had been in the German
army. He was far from being a talkative man, rather stern
in his nature, always quiet, not much given to joking, having a
violent temper when injured; on the whole, just a little pecul
iar. Of course the boys liked to play jokes at John's expense.
One of his peculiarities was his evident care for a very fine
tobacco-box which he carried. He chewed the fine-cut variety,
And was exceedingly chary in parting with any of it to his com
rades, who were quite likely to ask for a chew. On a certain
occasion, one of John's associates, a rollicking, devil-may-care
sort of fellow, named Bill B., found a nest of young mice in his
quarters; they were quite innocent of covering and were not
more than an inch long. To Bill's ingenious mind here was a
chance for fun, so he says to his bunkies: "We'll get John L.
in here, and one of you ask him for a chew of tobacco. If he
complies pass the box along to me, after you have helped your
self, and when I take a chew, I will put these two little mice
into his box." The prospect was delightful, and John was in
veigled over to the quarters of the conspirators, who were
ready for him, where, according to programme, one of the boys,
Wesley W., asked John for a taste of his fine-cut. The latter
was in an unusually gracious mood, and at once passed his
cherished box to the mischievous fellow, who in turn handed
it to Bill. Everything worked to a charm, and the infant mice
were speedily and effectually hidden in the box, which, com
ing back to its owner, was placed in his pocket, and he soon re
turned to his own quarters at the end of the street. The tor
mentors anxiously awaited developments, which were not long
in coming. In about fifteen minutes, they heard a yell and an

74 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
oath, and soon saw a mad Dutchman coming for them; they
scattered like a covey of partridges, and could not be found.
John had opened his box to take a chew, and without looking
at what he was doing picked up with the tobacco one of the
live mice; but he had not chewed the quid a great while before
he ejected the mingled mass of Virginia weed and mouse with
the exhibition just described. The gang had to steer clear
of him for several days; indeed he never forgave Bill B., whom
he considered the chief villain in the play, but the officers, who
soon learned the story, and the rest of the company enjoyed
the joke immensely.
Nor was picket duty devoid of incident, as some of the mem
bers of — Company could testify. The station was possibly four
miles from the forts, and about the soldiers were the farms of
men outwardly loyal, but at heart, we thought, arrant rebels, dis
posed to give the enemy every possible bit of information. Any
thing taken from them was to us very much like "spoiling the
Egyptians" ; but Colonel Morris, commanding the brigade, was
a strict disciplinarian, and all depredations were sternly frowned
upon by him and the offenders severely punished. On the
morning in question, a bright one of midsummer, the boys, some
four in number, had relieved the old pickets and soon began to
look about for their noon-day meal.
Near by was a profusion of blackberries, and it didn't take
long to pick all that the boys, including the lieutenant in
charge, could eat; but when was man ever perfectly satisfied?
They must needs have milk to add to the sugar which their
haversacks afforded. Cows were in the neighboring field, and
what more natural than that Yankee boys, proficient milkers,
should undertake to extract their lacteal riches. One of
the soldiers succeeded admirably, for his bovine selection was
tractable, but the other boy found his cow quite unwilling to
"stand," but persevering he had just begun operations when
he heard a strange voice asking him what he was doing. "I
guess you can see easily enough," was the careless reply. "Well,
I shall report you to the officer of the picket," and the wrathful
owner, for such he was, started off for the post, the culprits
following closely behind him. True to his threat he proceeded
to tell his story to the lieutenant, but at such length that the
officer was evidently bored. The soldiers, however, kept right
at their eating, and so voraciously that Lieutenant  feared

SOLDIERING IN THE DEFENSES. 75
he might lose his share, so saying to the farmer, "I'll punish the
rascals," he exclaimed with considerable more emphasis, "Here,
I want some of those berries and milk." This so amazed the
irate Marylander that he started off, saying, "I'll go straight
to Colonel Morris and report the case." This he did and the
next morning after we had arrived in camp and while we were
cleaning up our guns, the lieutenant came around in accord
ance with Colonel Morris' order, and said, "You are under
arrest." One of the boys said, "Do you arrest us for getting
berries and milk for you?" "Don't ask too many questions,"
was the reply. "Well," was the rejoinder, "if we do have to
go up, you will remember that you are as deep in the mud
as we are in the mire." "Don't worry," said he, "I'll get you
out soon ;" and sure enough, in less than an hour came an order
from headquarters releasing the men. The story, however, does
not end here, for it was not long ere the same men had a chance
at the farmer, who was a cross, surly fellow, a fair type of the
rebel sympathizers in the vicinity. In the fall, when crops
were being harvested, on a dark, cloudy day, the same com
rades found themselves again near the same informer. Having
brought with them salt pork, bread and coffee, they began to
look about them for other viands. Close at hand was the home
of the farmer, and back of it was a large pile of potatoes and
cabbages. A delegation set forth at once for the farm-house,
and while a portion thereof solicited the loan of a big iron
kettle from the mistress, the other part made free with the
farmer's winter supply. When the woman went for the utensil,
which she thought it best to lend, the marauders made off with
their booty, which in due time was cooked and eaten, making
something of an offset to the rain which had begun to fall,
each man consoling himself with the reflection that the vegeta
bles, though stolen and consequently sweet, scarcely more than
compensated for the disgrace of an arrest, and Byron made
Mazeppa say, "Time at last makes all things even," just as
applicable to Cayuga county boys doing duty in Maryland as
to Cossack hetman on the Ukrain plains.
It was during the later portion of 1863 that Company L was
organized. Its membership was more widely spread over the
state than that of any other company in the regiment. It was
made up largely of men who had served a full enlistment in the
two years' regiments sent out in 1861. This no doubt accounts

76 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
for the high degree of proficiency which the company early
attained. Its first captain was Frank W. Sinclair, promoted
from Company I, and its senior first lieutenant was S. Augus
tus Howe, who had put in two years as a member of the 24th
New York Infantry, an Oswego county organization. This ad
dition brought the Ninth up to its full number of companies,
and the recruits, rapidly coming in, soon filled the regiment
to its maximum. The men as they joined were sent to Fort
Simmons, which became the station of the company till ordered
to move across the Eastern Branch. Here they began the
regular drill and routine duty to which the other companies
had long been subjected. The size of the company sometimes
made sitting at the mess-table quite crowded, but old soldiers
were ready to endure such a small affliction without much
complaint, especially as a crowded table was better than none
at all. 1864.
Ere the year was ended, the monotony of camp-life was to be
sadly marred, but before the stated May-day, came numerous
weeks of routine. January 1st found many of the soldiers in
possession of luxuries of all sorts, sent down to them from their
northern homes, remainders in some cases of Christmas feasts,
while others were looking for delayed boxes. One man in a
mixed manner grumbles thus in his diary in early '64 days:
"Turkeys came. C. got three months, ball and chain, for sleep
ing on his post. New recruit and in poor health." Early in
January it is necessary to break up certain liquor-selling places
in Georgetown. In the wealth of edibles some of the boys in
Company B have a big dinner, with printed invitations. Happy
the man who has preserved one of them to this day. All this
time many recruits are coming down to join the regiment, and.
poor fellows, some of them think they get a cool reception^
for on the 9th one man says, "It was so cold that coffee froze
in our cups before we could drink it." Nothing but the writer's
uniform veracity warrants this insertion, and even now incre
dulity justifies a suspicion that, set out to cool, the liquid may
have been left unduly long. On the 15th eighty recruits appear.
There is really little stirring during the month, save the arrival
of new men and cook-house bickerings, of which every camp
is sure to have its part.

A GENERAL SHAKING-UP. 77
In February, owing to a small-pox scare, vaccination was
the order of the day, and, "Look out for my sore arm," was not
infrequently heard. Even the most calloused diary-keeper
could not find material for his small pages, except as he re
counted the books and papers read, the letters written and re
ceived. Full many a love-match was made during these winter
days, and in rough, noisy barracks the most delightful visions
were had of home and happiness to follow, "when this cruel
war is over." But cold or warm, bleak or pleasant, picket
and guard duty came round with unvarying regularity, and a
good soldier, later to fall at Cold Harbor, is sent in under arrest
because as corporal he failed to turn out with the guard quick
ly enough. Then came the second March for the dispiriting
of the soldiers, but there are many Mark Tapleys among them
whom weather influenced very little. The 25th of February
brought around an alarm, and Fort Simmons was quickly
manned, but as usual it was a false alarm. It is highly credit
able to the rank and file of the Ninth Heavy that a good audi
ence gathered, March 3d, at headquarters to hear a George
town preacher, Brown by name, lecture on "The Martyr Trans
lators of the Bible." Is there any wonder that such men, when
the test came, gave a good account of themselves? Later still,
in the same place, an equally large and appreciative audience
heard an eloquent discourse on temperance.

CHAPTER X.
A General Shaking-up.
The advent of General Grant in Washington and his subse
quent presence in the Army of the Potomac were making a
decided impression on all wearers of the blue. The changes
in location of Companies C, D, E and G have already been
noted. Corresponding activity was also true of the other com
panies. All of them took leave of their long-time quarters, and
on the 26th of March made their way to the forts across the
Eastern Branch, all this in accordance with General Orders
No. 21, whereby the regiment, except the 2d Battalion, was di
rected to form line in the parade ground at Fort Simmons at 4.30
A. M. the 26th, having two days' cooked rations, Company B

78 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
to join at the junction of Military and Georgetown roads. The
march began at daybreak, and was a cheerful variation on the
long monotony of the forts, passing, as it did, through Wash
ington and across the bridge which spanned the Eastern
Branch, sometimes called the Navy Yard bridge. Thence there
was a decided scattering of the companies, a large number of
forts coming under their care as follows : A at Fort Baker, with
the band and regimental headquarters; B, Fort Mahan; F, Forts
Dupont, Wagner and Ricketts, with Lieutenants Allen, Pat
terson and Stafford, respectively, in charge; H, Fort Meigs;
I, Forts Snyder and Davis, with Captain Hughes and Lieu
tenant Howard commanding; K, Fort Greble; L, Fort Stanton;
M, Fort Carroll. Of this range Fort Mahan was the most
northerly, and was fully seven miles away from Greble, the
most southerly position. At this time the 1st Battalion com
prised the men in Forts Baker, Davis, Dupont, Meigs and
Mahan, under Major Snyder, with headquarters at Fort Mahan.
The 3d Battalion included the other forts under Major Burgess,
with headquarters at Fort Carroll. The 2d Battalion was still
in Fort Foote, so the regiment was really in a line of forts ex
tending a distance of quite eleven miles, though communica
tion between Fort Foote and the other fortifications was by
water rather than by land. By this latest move, the Ninth was
made to have something to do, first and last, with nearly every
fort on the Maryland side of the Potomac. The life for the
next two months, in each fort, differed very little from that in
another, nor from that in the forts recently left near the river,
though there were incidents peculiar to each one, as at Fort
Mahan Lieutenant Chauncey Fish, just promoted from orderly
sergeant, was given a fine sword by Company B ; he had only
recently returned from a visit home, and with him came, as re
cruits, two of his sons, one of whom was to later fall at Win
chester. As this was a company affair, Sergeant Smith made
the presentation, and Sergeant Brock read a reply. The
weapon cost $100. In this same fort, later in April, a daughter
of Ebenezer Page opened a school in the mess-house at fifty
cents per pupil, weekly. Towards the end of the month cer
tain companies were canvassed by cavalry-men seeking those
who would like to be transferred. The outlook towards the
Capitol from nearly all these forts is fine, and it is easier mak
ing a visit to Washington than it was before the move. Not

A GENERAL SHAKING-UP. 79
a day was lost in active drill, and if the regiment is not profi
cient in infantry, heavy and light artillery practice, it is not
the fault of the officers. Battalion drill necessitates long and
occasionally hot marches for some of the companies. May
brings with it the consciousness that the North will soon take
a new departure, and that for the front. Packing up all that a
man thought he could not conveniently carry, was the order of
the day, and it was surprising how many things were dispensed
with, but two weeks later the reduction of baggage was even
greater still. Two Wayne county boys thought to lessen their
portable library, and so made up a box to send home, in which
they placed their copies of Virgil, Horace, Longfellow (2 vols.),
Methodist Hymns, etc., determining to depend on memory for
any classical or poetical necessity, and also throwing in two
or three bed-quilts and a pair of boots, they sent it northward.
How carefully the mother of one of those boys treasured the col
lection, till the close of the war brought home the literary
soldiers ! On the 7th of May was promulgated an order specify
ing what the soldiers might carry in their knapsacks, viz., one
shirt, one pair socks, one pair extra shoes, one pair pants, one
rubber-blanket, one overcoat. It did not take long, when march
ing actually began, to get rid of nearly all the above-named
necessities. In the ranks of this immense aggregation of men were hun
dreds who had recently joined. They had come down from
northern homes, rallied by the nation's cry for more soldiers;
very many, indeed the large majority of them, were lads in their
teens, who three years before were too young for enlistment.
They represented nearly all vocations, but by far the greater
number came from the farm. They represented the same el&
ment that, nearly a hundred years before, had fought for free
dom from Britain's yoke. Many, assigned to companies and
taking their guns, essayed the life of an active soldier with no
drill at all. What they learned of the use of their weapons in
parade or in action, was from observation. That they did not
particularly mar the prospects of the regiment is evident in the
sequel. Ere many weeks they were bearing their burdens
and doing their respective duties with as much ease and cool
ness as the veriest veteran by their side.
May 10th came another moving day; this time retracing the
steps across the Branch and through the city to the Virginia

80 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
side of the Potomac. Heavy Artillery regiments are succeeded,
largely, by 100-day men, sent in from Ohio, Pennsylvania and
Massachusetts, but our immediate successors are, in the main,
from the 10th N. Y. H. A., and we ourselves follow other
heavy artillery regiments that have gone ahead. For the
march, Companies A,B,H,F,and I in part, report at Fort Baker,
and the remainder of I, with L, M and K, join at the bridge.
There was no special incident in the transit, save that the
horses of a coach near the eastern end of the Eastern Branch
bridge having no ears for music, became frightened at our
band, and bolting short about turned the coach completely
over, spilling the passengers, but fortunately not harming any
one. With drums beating and flags flying we marched over
the plaza to the east of the Capitol, by the south end of said
magnificent structure, and along Pennsylvania avenue, all un
conscious of our destination. Some said we were going back
to the old forts, others said "the front," and when we marched
out upon Long Bridge, we were quite certain we were to have
some experience in Virginia. Company L veterans recall, as
they neared Unionville and the band played a lively air, a fine
high-headed horse prancing to the music, but as they neared
him, they saw he was moving on three legs only, but in perfect
time. The familiar government brand "I. C." on his flank, told
of battle-strife and his appreciation of marching music. Though
only a horse, preserved for the good he had done, he was greeted
with hearty cheers.
While new regiments were constantly forming and a man
counted for as much in one of them as in the other organiza
tions, there were considerations of locality that frequently de
termined the body wherein the recruit was to serve. If he
were not too intent upon getting a commission immediately,
if he were only modestly ambitious, he found the regiments
already in the service better for him than those whose record
was all before them. Hence the numbers that had enlisted
in Auburn and in the old barracks there had received an intro
duction to soldier's life. The winter of 1863 and '64, spent in
that place, has a considerable space in the memories of many
a Ninth survivor. There were some men considerably beyond
the age of service, but by discriminating lying and the barber's
art, they manage to pass muster. On the whole, the accessions
to the Army of the Potomac at the beginning of the Battle

A GENERAL SHAKING-UP. 81
Summer added much to its strength. At first they met some
chaff from the older soldiers, but in the line of duty all differ
ences disappeared, and before Cold Harbor was reached, only
the closest scrutiny could have told who were the old and who
the new. As usual, our party was a large one, and we could
not all stop at one fort, so we were distributed, A, F and M
to Fort Richardson, which became the headquarters; B and I
went to Fort Barnard; H, to Fort Garrische; K, to Fort Berry,
and L, to Fort Scott. The "boys" of the latter company ever
dilate on the terror of rats in this stronghold. They had to
sleep in the bomb-proofs, and life, waking or sleeping, was a
warfare with the rodents, which stole their food at all times
and made nights hideous by walking over the sleeping soldiers,
one of whom declared, as between rebs and rats, he preferred
the former. The regiment is again as nearly united as it can
be in so many forts. The 2d Battalion that came up from
Fort Foote on the same day found itself placed with C, D and
G in Fort Ward, and E in Fort Reynolds, the former companies
making a long detour by way of Long Bridge and not reach
ing the fort till nearly midnight. The distance of Fort Ward
from Alexandria is not more than four nor less than three miles,
but the men marched twelve miles to get there. One of them
tersely remarks in his journal, "Military."
Our move was more "military." The 1st Connecticut
Heavy Artillery vacated many of the forts as the Ninth moved
in. Over the main entrance to Fort Richardson the soldiers
had left, in large letters, the Latin motto of the Wooden Nut
meg State, viz., "Qui transtulit sustinet," which some boys
just from school were able to render to their fellows as, "Who
brought us, will sustain." For once we thought the sentiment
quite as good as our New York's "Excelsior." Fairfax Semi
nary was near. Daily picket-guard was maintained, but there
was very little stability, since on the 15th, Companies B and
L were ordered to Fort Worth, still further south. The very
next day there was an inspection at Fort Richardson, just to
see how quickly the men could move. With the exception of
men on duty in the forts, and so could not report, this was the
first time for the men of the Ninth to assemble in a body. Dur
ing these days active boys are scouring the neighboring coun
try for adventure and sights. The wounded from the Wilder
ness are filling the Seminary Hospital, and thither many go,
6

82 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
both from curiosity and possibly to see wounded friends from
other regiments; when there, few failed to climb to the steeple
of the seminary to get the fine view it afforded. This seminary
was and is an Episcopal theological school. Arlington is not
so very far away, and the building and grounds filled with
memories of the Lee family are thoroughly inspected. Many
a letter carried to northern homes floral souvenirs from the
Arlington flower gardens. Camp distribution comes in for a
visit, and Camp Chase, where the first stop was made nearly
twc years before, is also quite near.
The night of May 17 is a long one to many, for certain com
panies are under arms or on the march nearly every moment
of it, for all have been ordered to report at Fort Richardson
very early. Shelter-tents have been added to our outfit, and
we are ready to go. It is scarcely more than morning on May
18 when we enter Alexandria, 2000 strong, and go upon trans
ports, the great mass of us quite ignorant of our destination.
Steamers John Brooks, John W. D. Prouty and the State of
Connecticut bear us away and down the river. Lost sleep is
sought upon the deck floors, and those who desire amusement
find it in cards and other diversions. The tolling of the ship's
bell as we passed Mt. Vernon called up reflections that possi
bly the Father of his Country might not be pleased if he knew
in what disorder his children were. Late in the afternoon we
reach Belle Plain Landing at the mouth of the Potomac creek,
and soon go ashore in the midst of a drenching rain, though
to make room for our boat another, filled with rebel prisoners,
is obliged to move out. The Johnnies are dirty and saucy.
Some one suggests that these qualities are usually joined. Some
of the boys, recruits, pitch their first tents here, and try to dry
off by means of camp-fires. There is a hospital transport at
the dock, and some of our number are borne thereon to be
taken back for treatment.
The rain continues, and during the following night our ears
are treated to the sound of distant cannonading, a part of that
"wild diapason of war" which Grant had inaugurated earlier
in the month, and to which our ears were to become so much
accustomed. The next day, the 19th, in the morning Companies
H, I and L started for Fredericksburg in charge of a wagon-
train, reaching there at about 10 P. M. Company D followed
in the afternoon and camped east of the Rappahannock. Each

A GENERAL SHAKING-UP. 83
man was again his own cook. On this day a party of rebel prison
ers passed through the camp, and went aboard a boat bound for
some northern prison. Draw six days' rations. While we were
lying at this point some of us saw Colonel Welling and Lieuten
ant Colonel Seward go aboard a transport and soon steam
away towards Washington. Naturally we said to each other,
"What's up!" A few days later we learned what it all meant.
Those who roamed over Belle Plain came to the conclusion
that it derived its name by the law of contraries, for it was
anything but attractive. The shores were composed of con
glomerated shells not unlike the coquina of Florida. Still
pleasures were found even there, for the bathing was good,
though some roguish fellows suggested sharks. Many a sol
dier will recall how very cheap shad were, and how gloriously
he fried them on his tin plate, which became at once griddle
and trencher. To their unsophisticated taste, the result of
their cooking was every whit as appetizing as were the famous
planked shad cooked by Daniel Webster himself.
We were not to march hungry nor unarmed, for all started
away from Belle Plain with six days' rations and forty rounds
of cartridges, quite a load in itself. Five companies left on the
afternoon of the 20th — Companies A and K the following
morning, and G at noon on the 22d. This going to the front
was a new experience to most of the men, and it did not take
long to lessen the baggage which the special order had named
as necessary. Hundreds said, "If we only had these blankets
at home, how nice it would be, but they are a nuisance here,"
and off they would go from the knapsacks. The days were very
warm and the burden great. Seemingly, there was no mo
ment when some one could not be seen in the act of throwing
away something, till our line of march was effectually indicated
by tons of cast away apparel. One captain, of a very saving
nature, had his feelings hurt by so much wastefulness, and
he did his best to carry a part of the stuff thus discarded, and
was laughed at for his pains; even he had to yield finally and
drop his extra burden. In their extremity, some men threw
away, at once, knapsack and all it contained. Others reduced
it by degrees, while still others made a roll of what they deemed
most precious and, with joined ends, bore it over one shoulder.
Every one felt it necessary to sacrifice something, and a New
York old-clothes man could have made his fortune on the

84 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
material with which our way was strewn. What we did was
done by every new regiment, and the acres between the land
ing and city became the temporary depository of our own and
government possessions in fabulous quantities. If those in
authority had only told us what we really needed and what
we had best leave behind, how much better it had been for all;
but the mere waste of property was of small consideration,
and our officers were just as inexperienced as their men.
The route itself was through a veritable land of desolation.
Whatever it may have been in the past, three years of war had
swept off everything that made life worth living. If there
were inhabitants, like some rodents they must have burrowed.
On our way we met an ambulance conveying wounded from
the front to the landing. Among them were many from the
1st Maine, long our neighbors in the defenses. They had had
their baptism of blood, and had made a glorious record. While
camping and waiting for the other companies, it is said that
Captain Gregory of B was bitten in the temple by a rattle
snake, and that this contributed to his death at Cold Harbor
more than the wound received there. At noon or a little past,
the last company, except G, also guarding a wagon-train, came
up and had a sight of the Rappahannock and Fredericksburg.
Some veterans who had first gone out in 1861 retained vivid
recollections of their long day on Stafford Heights, and it was
just a renewal of old acquaintances, but to the majority all
was new. The words had long been very, very familiar, and
now we were having the realities that went with those words.
Head-boards here and there told of the dead in the long days
of '62 aud '63, when Burnside and Hooker, staking their for
tunes lost.
The noteworthy hamlet of Falmouth is at our right, and oppo
site is Fredericksburg, with its ragged steeples and yawning
walls, its ruined bridges and bullet-marred houses. We are
standing on land that may have belonged to Washington, and
before us may be the very spot, on the river's bank, where thy
youthful athlete stood when he made that famous throw of a
silver dollar across the Rappahannock. While waiting by the
river, some of the men crossed over and found the city one
great hospital. The Wilderness and Spottsylvania were only
a few miles away, and the wounded from these terrible fields
were here by the thousands. The scenes of the amputating

REACHING THE FRONT. 85
tables were not calculated to inspire the young men, who were
to soon experience similar dangers. So absorbed were they in
the bloody present, they had little disposition to think of the
city's past, but had they been inclined, they might have found
the Masonic Lodge room in which Washington was initiated
just before he was of age, and the very Bible on which he laid
his hands, i. e., if they had been disposed to break in. In the
northern part of the city, they might have found the home of
Washington's mother, the very house in which she breathed
her last, and where her distinguished son often visited her,
and a little to the westward her grave with the marble monu
ment by its side, for it was never reared. All this the boys
might have seen, but probably no one did. Their thoughts
were quite too prosaic and practical for historic reminders, and
besides the school-master was not with them.

CHAPTER XI.
Reaching the Front.
Though we are standing on the margin of the river, though
the city before us was filled with dead and wounded, and
though the sound of distant artillery was frequent, we were not
as yet at that ever movable point known as the Front. For
several days we were to continue to be only an isolated regi
ment guarding a wagon-train, which some of the boys confi
dently asserted was forty miles long. There were several hun
dred wagons in the train. At 2 P. M. we march down and
across the river, for the first time, in hundreds of instances, on
a pontoon bridge. We almost envied the natty sailors who sat
in several of the boats doing some kind of guard-duty; they
looked so clean and neat when contrasted with our soiled uni
forms, and we were only beginning. We had hardly more than
passed through the city when we were halted near Marye's
Heights, once flaming with rebel fire, and in time to be the cem
etery of so many loyal dead, and waited a while. During the
interval a thunder-storm coming up, some of the boys put
up their shelter-tents, and then was shown just how many per
sons could get under that diminutive canvas; "seven or eight"
is one record, and one of those men insisted on keeping his

86 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
feet dry also. That night we had our first specimen of march
ing in the dark. There were no "taps" for us, though at mid
night or thereabouts we were halted and permitted to lie down.
Of course when eleven large companies were strung along sev
eral miles, the same hour would not apply to all. The grass
was very wet, and we had thrown away that which would now
make us comfortable. Happy the boys who have retained their
rubber-blankets and shelter-tents, for two men could place a
poncho, rubber side down on the ground, then lay one-half the
shelter on that, making with knapsack (when saved) for pillow,
a fair "shake-down." For covering, the order of tent and blank
et was reversed. By lying very closely together, two partners
could get along very well through a Virginia night, but alas
for the lad who had nothing, whose improvidence had left him
overcoatless and blanketless !
For him there was no refuge but the camp-fire, and then when
was he to sleep? That first night developed many a case of
latent rheumatism, and the ambulance bore several away to
wards Washington the next day, among them one whose first
night in this campaign was very near his last, for he returned
to his company in the valley, only to fall the following day at
Cedar Creek. However sad to the sufferers themselves, to
those comfortably ensconced between their rubber -blankets,
the fretting and fuming, not to say swearing, of the poor men
so dolefully moving about was extremely funny. Sympathy
is a queer characteristic, and like love the subjects are unex-
plainable. Day and night we were in expectation of attack
from some quarter. That ubiquitous leader, Moseby, was fan
cied to be near us; indeed, he seemed to partake of the super
natural quality of omnipresence, and we tried to be correspond
ingly alert. One chronicler claims that a guerrilla attack was
made during the march on one part of the train, and 215 of the
army were captured, but our train was a long one, whatever
the story. The morning of the 22d found some of us again
trudging our weary way, but we were not too tired to appre
ciate the beautiful sight afforded by our white-topped wagons
as they wound sinuously along the tree-bordered, crooked Vir
ginia roads. As far as the eye could reach there were wagons
loaded with comforts and necessities for the soldiers in the
trenches. If all the swearing done by the drivers of those
wicked mules was taken down by the recording angel, the

REACHING THE FRONT. 87
record must have been far longer than that made by our "Army
in Flanders." We caught only the "yea mules" with accom
panying profanity that was exploded in our immediate vicin
ity. The land itself had been thoroughly impoverished by to
bacco culture. While we did not march very far on the 22d,
the hot weather and our want of experience made the distance
seem long.
That war is not Sunday-school was forcibly evidenced re
peatedly this day through the pillaging of private houses, al
ways on account of provocation given, at least it was so
claimed. Sometimes articles of value were carried a long dis
tance only to be thrown away at last. "If I only had this at
home," rang through many a man's head, and he accordingly
added to his burdens by carrying for a ways a prized piece of
booty, but he would soon tire of it. In this way a big family
Bible was thrown down and picked up a dozen times by as many
different soldiers. If Napoleon's men threw away treasure-
chests in the retreat from Moscow, there is little wonder that
ours retained little else than what they could eat. Our camp
was near Guinea Station. The first noteworthy place encoun
tered was Bowling Green, reached on the 23d, the county seat
of Caroline county, to be made famous for all time in the com
ing April, for there on the 21st, in one of the barns we are now
passing perhaps, Boston Corbett would shoot the assassin,
Wilkes Booth.
However sad to the antiquarian, many exceedingly valuable
papers long treasured in the court house were that day by
thoughtless men given to the wind, or as widely scattered as
the next mail to the North could send them. Said M  of
Company K: "I saw to-day the signature of George the II
affixed to a grant of land in this county. It ought to have been
saved, but it wasn't." Some houses were entered and furniture
was injured, but mainly on account of what the boys termed
"rebel sass." The Confederates had left only the day before,
and we saw their signal-station in a tree. One Yankee of
inquiring mind finds that flour here is worth, in Confederate
script, $300 a barrel, and corn $60 a basket. Near here we
passed a regiment of colored troops, the first many of us had
seen. There was a great deal of good-natured guying as we
marched along, some of our men being inclined to doubt their
soldierly qualities. Later all learned better. Among the offi-

88 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
cers of these troops, Company B boys found a former comrade,
Andrew J. Raynor, now a lieutenant commanding a company.
Lieutenant Fish of Bcompelledasecesh citizen who had offered
some insulting remarks to retract and apologize. This was near
nightfall, and for some distance we marched by the light of
burning houses, destroyed by the colored soldiers in revenge
for an insulting answer made by a man to a polite request for
a drink, "I won't give anything to a damned nigger." He had
fared better if he had held his tongue and granted the request.
At night we camped near Milford station, and it was claimed
that traces of the departed enemy were only too prominent,
for they had failed to take all their "Gray Backs" with them.
This is a station on the Richmond & Fredericksburg railroad
forty miles from the former city and twenty-one from Fred
ericksburg. During the night our rest was disturbed by the
arrival of Colonel Seward, band and drum corps, who had
left Belle Plain on the 22d, reaching Fredericksburg at 9 P. M.
The next day, pushing along, they were at Guinea Station at
2.30 P. M., and in Bowling Green at 11 o'clock, making only a
short halt, till 12.30 A. M. On the 24th, at an early hour, our
new colonel and his musical staff caught up with his regiment.
There is no record of the bands making any music on the march
other than with their chins. They saved their wind for locomo
tive purposes. Company G was also on the way, and the march
of the 23d wore so severely on the men that the captain re
marks, "Good men fall out," and he, too, remarks the conflagra
tion in Bowling Green. Instead of advancing with the regi
ment on the 24th, this company was obliged to rest, marching
only four or five miles.
The 24th of May beheld us again advancing, but at 9 A. M.
or thereabouts we were halted, and Colonel Seward took formal
command of the regiment, announcing that Colonel Joseph
Welling had resigned, and that he, William H. Seward, Jr.,
had been promoted to fill the vacancy. His address was not
long, but it was direct, and all felt that there would be no.
flinching, so far as the head of the column was concerned. We
are enjoined to do our duty faithfully and manfully, and then
came the "Forward, march!" for the first time from Colonel
Seward. Notwithstanding this gracious send-off, the day was
not comfortable. Rain fell, but we were not permitted to put
on our rubber-blankets, so there was nothing to do but plod

REACHING THE FRONT. 89
and splash along. That we are becoming experienced soldiers
is evident in some of our boys shooting and skinning a pig, the
first bloodshed of the march, thus affording fresh pork to a
favored few at our first halt. We ford Pole Cat creek, charmed
neither by its' name nor waters, though there were times during
the day when we would have gladly welcomed the latter, so
intense was our thirst. Though the rain was falling in torrents,
there was none for our satisfaction. As with the Ancient Mar
iner, there was water, water everywhere, but not a drop to
drink. Some were fain in this extremity to dip up the liquid,
more mud than water, between the hills of corn, and thereby
lessen their thirst.
When in the darkness we reached Mt. Carmel Church, a
hungry, wet and weary regiment was ready to rest. However,
as was often the case, when we went into camp, it appeared
that we were not in the right place, and amid much profanity
among those who swore, further progress was stayed, while
we fell in to march a rod or so. Then those at the head betook
themselves to the church for shelter, and we made a big fire
of rails, around which we roasted one side and had the other
soaked by the drenching rain, which held up only towards
morning. We were getting our introduction to actual out-of-
door soldier life. One man entered in his diary for the night,
"After three makings of bed, we lay on the ground till morn
ing. Had to stay up two hours to get a drink of water." Morn
ing came at last, but if Aurora's fingers were rosy, they were
also dipped in moisture. There had been fighting near this
church, and some of us had camped near fresh graves or recent
dead, some bodies so imperfectly covered that parts of them
were exposed.
We had begun to draw rations when peremptory orders
were given to suspend and for us to "fall in." A hurried march
of a few miles brought us to the south side of the North Anna
river, where our men and the Johnnies experienced a harder
time than we did, for they had had quite a brisk fight on the
23d and 24th. As we set forth in the morning, we were over
taken by Company G, and so all were again together. We took
our places in trenches dug the night before, we were told, by
the 5th Corps. There was not the least doubt that at last we
had reached the front. Constantly receding, we had finally
overtaken it and were a part of that Army of the Potomac
which, under Grant, was "flanking" its way down from the

90 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Rapidan to Petersburg. Up to this moment it had been a mat
ter of entire indifference as to what corps we should be as
signed, but when on the 26th it appeared that we were to be in
the 6th Corps, we were particularly pleased, a pleasure that
has never been lessened in the intervening years; we further
found that ours was a regiment in the 2d Brigade of the 3d
Division. So many, however, did we number that we were
frequently saluted with the question, "What brigade is that?"
This was not strange, for we must have had in line half as many
men as were in the other six regiments of the brigade. Some
old liners saluted us with "Washington Gunners," "White-
gloved Soldiers," etc., but we assimilated, and soon were just
as much earth-soiled as they were. As these organizations
were to be our associates in peril for many a long month, it is
in place to tell just what and who they were. Fou* of the
regiments, viz., the 5th Maryland, 138th Pennsylvania, 110th and
122d Ohio, under Colonel John W. Horn, M. R. McClennan, J.
W. Keifer and William H. Ball, respectively, had long been
associated as the 2d Brigade, 3d Division of the 3d Army Corps.
Under the organization effected by Grant March 24th, 1864,
the 3d Division of the 3d Corps became a like part of the 6th.
To the brigade were added the 126th Ohio, Colonel B. F. Smith,
and a part of the 67th Pennsylvania, which had before served
in the 3d Brigade, 3d Division of the 6th Corps. The Pennsyl
vanians were attached to the 138th Pennsylvania. All of them
were three-years regiments and all had seen a deal of service.
At the time of our joining, Major General H. G. Wright, who
had succeeded the lamented Sedgewick at Spottsylvania, was
in command, and so continued, save at brief intervals, to the
end of the war. The division commander was Brigadier Gen
eral James B. Ricketts, who was to stay by till wounded at
Cedar Creek. In command of the brigade was Colonel J. War
ren Keifer of the 110th Ohio, though on account of a wound he
was away at the time, and his place was filled by Colonel
Smith of the 126th Ohio.
When our regiment came up footsore and weary, and filed
by General Ricketts, he turned to our leader and said, "The
Ninth is a fine body of men; will the boys fight?" After the
battle of Cold Harbor, the general was thoughtful enough to
answer his own question saying, "Colonel, those boys did fight
well."

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBQR. 91

CHAPTER XII.
Prelude. May 4-5, Army of the Potomac crossed the Rapidan;
May 5-7, Battle of the Wilderness; May 8-18, Battle of Spottsylvania
Court House; General John Sedgewick killed the 9th; May 23-27, bat
tles near the North Anna river.
From the North Anna Through Cold Harbor.
We had crossed the river on pontoons near Jericho Mills,
and the sight, of all others, which pleased us most was that
of Sheridan's cavalry, which only the day before had rejoined
the Army of the Potomac, after the memorable Richmond raid,
one of whose most conspicuous features was the death of the
Confederate general, J. E. B. Stuart, at the Yellow Tavern
engagement, May 11, though the redoubtable "Jeb." did not
die till the next day in Richmond. Here along the line of the
Virginia Central railroad, on the 26th, we had our first sight
at tearing up rails. The preceding day men of the 5th Corps
had destroyed long stretches of the road, and had succeeded
in leaving many tokens of their presence in the shape of Maltese
crosses made around trees and stumps by bent railroad iron.
Standing beside the track very closely together, at the word
they would stoop and, seizing a piece of iron, lift it and the ties
till the latter stood on end. It was an easy matter then to
detach the latter, and when laid up, cob-pile fashion, the rails
were placed on them. When fired, the heat soon rendered the
rails red-hot, and the ends would droop. The soldiers would
then seize them and carry them so that the heated part
would come against the tree, and the ends would enclose it.
Four rails thus made an excellent 5th Corps badge. We also
formed in battle-line in a piece of woods half a mile in front
of the works, but nothing came of it, and we marched back to
our intrenchments, where our chief concern was in trying to
keep out of the wet. Not only did the rain fall, but the wind
blew, so that it was a difficult matter to put up our shelter-
tents, and if we did get them up, it was more than likely that
a stream of water would find its way through the middle of
the same, and memory calls up many ludicrous scenes of that
wet afternoon. A more than usually profane episode was that
of Tim. C  trying to get his "d — d tint in a dacent position."

92 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
He could not, possibly, keep two corners pinned down at the
same time, but he pounded and swore till wet to the skin, and
even then had no covering, nor was his experience unique.
Lieutenant Dennis Flynn of Company K wrote to his wife
from this point: "We have been in line of battle, but the rebs
did not attack, and we were ordered back. Company K goes on
picket to-night. Boys in good spirits, though some are badly
used up. Weather dreadfully hot; plenty of hardtack and
coffee till to-day. We are encamped where a great battle was
fought last Monday. Am sitting on a rebel grave as I write.
Our brigade tore up four miles of railroad near this place.
Crossed river on pontoons, thirty miles from Richmond. There
is to be tall fighting yet, and the Ninth is to have a hand in
it. Seven regiments in the brigade, and only 7500 men in all
of them. Our line of battle is a mile long. We are on the right.
This is a strong place. Don't think the Johnnies will give us
battle here, so we will have to go and hunt them up." That is
just what we did, for though the night was very dark and the
rain was falling pitilessly, the command "fall in" came just the
same, and into the darkness we marched, with no more knowl
edge of our destination than has the steed before his driver.
Werecrossed the river on the same pontoon bridge, and on the
north side plunged into the mud, which before morning gave
us a very good notion of what Virginia could do in this line.
We had heard of Burnside "stuck in the mud," and now we
were to realize what it was to have the sacred soil stick to
us. Our route leads by Chesterfield Church as we journey
southward, but direction and destination have become of far
less consequence than the demands of the present moment. To
carry his outfit and to keep up, demand every bit of strength
that the soldier possesses. Many are not equal to the task and
have to give up. Some die in their tracks. Here is a record:
"Pass one man writhing in death in the mud-exhaustion." The
artillery which came floundering along ground into the mud
some helpless victims. Jakey  of Company M, a little
Dutchman of marvelous powers of mimicry, fell in a fit and
died. Another of Company F succumbed to the trials of the
night. Captain Bacon of D fainted. It was no picnic for those
who survived. Lucky the soldier whose feet were encased in
boots, for he could keep them on, while shoes enough to stock
a big store were left in those muddy roads. It is to be hoped

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR. 93
that the language of that night failed of record, but it was
copious and forcible. All suffered alike, officers as well as men,
and all noted Sheridan's dead cavalry horses, which at frequent
intervals, by their unmistakable odor, told us which way the
raiders went. We were never tired of chaff, and, "Breathe
light on that so there'll be 'nuff to go round," or, "Any man
that'll take more'n one sniff of that's a hog," indicated the
proximity of one of those dead steeds, swollen and fast putrify-
ing, a northern contribution to the fertility of the soil. Had
we halted long, burial parties had been a necessity. As it was,
we held our breath and passed the stench along. After mid
night we drew rations somewhere, but no one knows to this
day where the spot was, and a short halt was had till day
light of the 27th, during which day we passed the headquarters
of Generals Meade and Grant, and for the first time saw those
famous men. Some companies served as flankers, a duty agree
able or otherwise according to the feeling of the individual.
In that portion of the country a large part of the flanker's way
was in the woods, and thus shady, a grateful condition to him
when the sun came out, but it was, necessarily, exposed.
We camp at night near the Pamunkey river. This day brought
us the first mail since leaving the defenses, and present care
was forgotten in the absorbing news from far-away home.
Whether the letters brought glad or sad words from loved ones,
there was nothing in our lives so grateful to us as the coming of
the mail. The 28th is signalized by our crossing the sluggish
stream, and at a distance from it of possibly two miles, we
threw up breastworks. The cavalry bring in several rebel pris
oners. There is some skirmishing with the enemy, and a part
of the regiment supports the 1st New Jersey Battery. This
day also is noteworthy in that we meet our own 25th District
regiment, the 111th, under Colonel McDougal, and we exchange
hurried greetings with many old friends. One sad-faced boy,
asked as to his father who had been in the same company with
him, replied, "He has npt been seen since the Wilderness; prob
ably his body was burned there." The son also, ere the season
was passed, gave his life for country.* The 29th is Sunday, and
evidently there is some nervousness at headquarters, for we
are not allowed to sleep in peace, but are aroused soon after
*Lafayette and Morris Craw, father and son, of South Butler, were
both in Company G of the 111th.

94 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
midnight and then, "In place, rest," till daybreak, barring two
spells of "right dressing." D, C and G are on picket, and
through slaying sundry pigs and cattle live very well. "Too
well," an officer remarks, "for many were attacked by diar
rhea." Two hundred men from the battalion are on this
picket-duty, one-half on posts, the other in reserve. Four men
are on a post, and the posts are a few rods apart, in easy hailing
distance. On the 30th some of us resumed our duties as wagon-guards,
marching on each side of the trains, possibly three rods from
the same, and one or two from each other; on the whole an
agreeable task, though the wagons were empty and rattled
loudly enough, seemingly, to be heard in Richmond, which
was claimed to be twenty-four or five miles away. It was said
that we managed to get on the wrong road, and came very
near running into serious trouble through our nearness to the
rebel army. At any rate Lieutenant Colonel Taft with a small
party had gone forward a short distance to reconnoitre when he
was met by a superior force of the enemy, and was compelled
to return hastily, having several of his men captured. Company
A was ordered forward at double quick to the rescue, and the
rebels in turn retired leaving their recent captives minus hats
and coats, since in this brief time the acquisitive foes had ap
propriated what they needed most, viz., clothing. Somewhere
between Reb and Fed, a pig and a sheep had been killed, and
dressing was in progress when the above skirmish arose. Who
ever slew, the Yankees possessed and speedily disposed of the
fresh meat all the more greedily, because rations had become ex
ceedingly scarce.
Of course the whole procession, wagons and men, speedily
countermarched, and to add alacrity to our movements, the
enemy directed a few shells towards us. Jagger of Company B
was hit in the thigh, though not severely, by a fragment, prob
ably the first member of the regiment to be touched by a hostile
missile. These happenings were all near Hanover Court House,
and some of the soldiers had time to wonder whether they were
anywhere near the Slashes, where Henry Clay was born, who
in early life had been called the "Mill Boy of the Slashes;" but
the citizen who might have informed us was not in sight, and
just then not even the most entertaining historical subject could
induce straggling. The day's march reduced the haversack

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR. 95
supply to its lowest ebb; some had been empty more than
twenty-four hours. The change of the base of supplies from
Fredericksburg to Port Royal had so deranged the system that
our wagon-train was a long way behind, and hardtacks became
objects of serious quest. Before rations were dealt out, a dol
lar was offered for a single piece, and there were men who stole
corn in the ear from cavalry horses, and roasted it for food.
Wherever we were when night found us, we were far from
pleasant surroundings. We were in and out of the woods,
marching and countermarching, as restless as lost souls; but
having no rations to prepare for eating, it did not matter so
much. We were near enough to the enemy to have a reminder
of his presence in the shape of sundry shells, one of which
passed unpleasantly near us. Its fiery trail was a very pretty
bit of pyrotechny, but it had striking qualities not so enjoy
able. The 31st brought the wagon-train and rations. While
we had not suffered as the beleaguered did at Chattanooga, we
did know what hunger was, and everybody was ready to help
carry his company's share for distribution. One famished youth,
desiring to escape any possibility of subsequent scarcity,
Joseph-like, filled his haversack with hard bread, and then put
fifty in his knapsack, but his calculations were of no account,
for he soon after was taken ill, and did not eat a half dozen in
all. After carrying them about for nearly a week, he gave
them away to hungry comrades at Cold Harbor.
The last day of May the 3d Battalion, Companies F, G, I and
L, under Major Snyder, was detached and added to the artillery
brigade of the 6th Corps. The progress of these companies will
be followed at the end of this chapter. The day ended with
picket-duty for a part of the regiment, a duty faithfully per
formed by some and as regularly shirked by others, i. e., too
many would throw all care and caution on a nervous, vigilant
few, while they themselves slept or played cards. The hour
could not have been far from midnight when there came,
through the stillness from the nearest post, the almost whis
pered words, "Rally on the reserve; pass it along." Only the
long roll has a more startling effect. We obeyed with alacrity,
and at 3 A. M. June 1 st, we were off at a spanking pace, which
we maintained, with occasional halts, till 2 P. M. We did not
know it then, but it subsequently appeared that we were very
near the scene of McClellan's Battle of Cold Harbor, June 27,

96 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
1862, and that new interest was hereafter to attach to this por
tion of Virginia through the work of this and subsequent days.
Just why it received its peculiar name does not appear. There was
no harbor,* and we found nothing cold, not even our reception.
Lee had been flanked to a standstill. Whether Grant's attack
was a proper one or not, is very far from the part of a regimen
tal history to discuss. Our duty was simply to obey orders and
follow the colors.
Those of our ranks who were inclined to look about found
much of interest in their researches, though nearly all our time,
till late in the afternoon, was devoted to throwing up breast
works. The boy who hooked a little time, just to see where
he was, found his line of breastworks forming a sort of door-
yard fence of an old house, whose women occupants looked
anything but happy. General Wright had located his head
quarters here, and with several of his officers was studying the
map of the vicinity. This fact with the sharpening of an elab
orate display of knives by a corps of surgeon's attaches made
it apparent that trouble was brewing, nor were these indica
tions vain. While we were throwing up earthworks, dis
mounted cavalry were having some sort of an entertainment
in the woods directly before us. Their running in and out was
not unlike the movements of boys when they fight a nest of
bumble-bees, nor those of dogs that assail a beast at bay. But
there was no play in this. They were the skirmishers, where
we were soon to do great works.
General Keifer says the brigade was in position at 2 P. M.,
with the Ninth forming the second and third lines, and that
the advance was not made till 6 o'clock. It certainly was near
ly dark when we charged. Of our regiment in this battle of
the 1st of June, the 3d Battalion, Companies F, I. G and L,
were out through having other duties. Companies D, M and a
part of E, with Major Burgess, through some misunderstand
ing, were not up, so less than one-half had a part. The expe
rience of the coming hours was to be entirely novel to these

*By different writers the name has been written "Cool Arbor,"
"Coal Harbor," etc., but the English origin of the settlers appears in
Cold Harbor, an appellation for places, where travelers, in lieu of
inns, could be harbored, i. e., housed while they provided their own
entertainment. Taylor says that in the vicinity of ancient lines of
roads in England, there are no less than seventy of these places.

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR.

97

UrsilON wofl K 9
CONfEO »'

Barker's
Mill .

COLD HARBOR, JUNE 1-11, 1864.

country boys. At our left as we stood in line was a Pennsyl
vania regiment wearing hairy appendages to their caps, and we
knew we were near one of the famous bodies of men known
as "Bucktails."* Possibly some nervousness on our part drew
out the query as to who we were, and on informing them that
we were so and so, and that we had never been in a fight, we were

*The 87th Pennsylvania in the second line of the 1st Brigade.
7

98 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
graciously told that we would probably get our bellies full
before morning, a prophecy that was fulfilled in every respect.
We lay down while an artillery duel was filling the air with
iron, but we could not see that any particular harm was done.
The noise was an excellent hardener to our inexperienced ears.
Was there ever a time when canteens were not empty at the
most critical moment? We were choking under that hot sun,
and there was no water near. No one could go to replenish the
supply with less than ten canteens, but that number of empty
ones was not hard to find. One tyro as he returned, heavy
laden, heard his first bullet in close proximity, apparently; he
paid it proper respect in a duck of his head, which nearly dis
located his neck and occasioned no end of fun to the veterans
who saw him. In his absence there had been a slight advance,
and wounded men were already moving to the rear. As we
lay waiting the word, a little bird, perched in a small tree near
us, wholly indifferent to the cannon's din, sang as sweetly as
ever he had done over meadows green, with streamlets bright.
While we realized that those who knew nothing fear nothing,
yet the bird's blissful unconsciousness and fearlessness gave
many a boy a feeling of confidence that he might again see
home and mother. Though the ground had recently been
burned over, and was as black as soot itself, no consideration
of our apparel prevented the closest embraces of Mother Earth.
It was a long wait thus in line, and there is little wonder if
the noise actually became a lullaby to many a man whose
senses, lulled or stunned by the confusion, gave way to sleep.*
The sun was just sinking behind the woods into which we
were to plunge when the long-expected "Attention!" was heard,
followed by, "Forward, march!" and with repeated injunctions,
"Guide right," we speedily advanced from our copse of black
ened trees, and then, on either hand, could be seen the long,
sinuous line, from which men were constantly dropping as
they were hit by the enemy's bullets, but the line heeded not.

*This torpor was common to soldiers under similar circumstances.
Lieut. Vaill, p. 60, History of 2d Connecticut Heavy Artillery, says:
"Their stupor was of a kind that none can describe, and none but sol
diers can understand." This regiment was under the same heavy
firing that we experienced. Orders were given repeatedly, yet when
the moment came to advance, "Corporal H  had to be waked up from
a sound sleep."

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR. 99
Down a slight declivity we ran and some found ourselves
floundering in a morass, quite waist-deep, and we were well
loaded with mud and moisture when we emerged on the other
side. Thence there was a rise of ground, up which we marched,
and it seemed as though all the artillery of the enemy were
massed at that particular spot, for had h — 1 been turned up
sideways, to our inexperienced eyes, the sight could not have
been more fiery. By this time the darkness was such that our
only light came from the cannon's mouths and the fuses of
shell, whose illuminated trail, however sightly, was not the
kind of gleam the most of us would choose. But we were
swiftly advancing to where the roar of musketry drowned even
that of the cannon, and the scream of shells was no longer
heard. The noise incident to the firing of so many thousand
muskets blended into one vast, absorbing note no more dis
tinguishable, as to its individual parts, than is the roar of a
crowded street when thousands of vehicles rattling over the
pavement combine to make a sound rivaling distant thunder,
but our thunder was near at hand; so near that one was not
always certain whether his gun went off or not. There are
times when a kicking musket has its good points. It would not
be an excellent figure, but were we to fancy Omnipotence shak
ing the whole region, like an enormous corn-popper over In
ferno itself, some idea of the way firing began and culminated
might be gained.
Long lines of prisoners came through our ranks saying,
"Don't shoot," and then we plied the work of death again.
Many an officer of our regiment that night found a gun a vastly
more effective weapon than his sword and worked it according
ly. The night was long, and while the fight was not continuous,
it raged at intervals till after 2 o'clock A. M. on the 2d, and
when the morning did appear, we had our first glimpse of what
death in the field of battle was like. As usual, opportunity was
found to dig rifle-pits before daybreak.
During this day the 6th Corps, as it were, regained its breath,
while the 2d on our left was getting into position. Rest after
the labors of the night was grateful, and though the din of
battle was all about us, we sought and found sleep and re
newed strength. Companies D, M, and E in part, come up and
are again with us. In later days we learned that our 3d Divi
sion held the right of the 6th Corps, with the 18th Corps still

100 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
further to the right. Our division engaged the men of rebel
General Hoke's left and Kershaw's right, and carried them,
Klingman's brigade giving way, as did Wofford's, and a part of
Bryan's brigades. The 3d Division captured more than 500
prisoners, but our loss was severe. Just at our left was killed
Colonel Kellogg of the 2d Connecticut Heavy Artillery with
forty -three of his men. The corps lost in this engagement 1200
in killed and wounded. The part borne by the division was
recognized by General Meade in the following special order:
Headquarters Army of the Potomac,
June 1st, 1864.
Major General Wright: i
Please give my thanks to Brigadier General Ricketts and his
gallant command for the very handsome manner in which they
have conducted themselves to-day. The success attained by
them is of great importance, and if followed up will materially
advance our operations.
GEORGE G. MEADE,
Major General Commanding.
In the Ninth, with less than half the regiment engaged,
thirteen men were killed, and one officer, Captain Gregory of
Company B, fatally wounded; fully a hundred men were
wounded, more or less severely, nine fatally. It is claimed that
Egbert Cady of Company A was the first one killed, a South
Butler boy.*
Henry A. Dudley of the same company was early shot in
the arm, and went to the rear. Private D  , though a north
ern man, was in Texas when the war began and was forced into
the rebel service. Later, having been captured he was held a
prisoner in Camp Chase, Illinois. Having communicated with
Wolcott relatives, he was by them gotten out, after taking the
oath of allegiance. To still further prove his devotion to the

*Of Cady, his former captain, now Major Snyder, wrote to a Wayne
county paper: " It grieves me much to hear of the death of Egbert
Cady; a more frank, open-hearted and brave boy never lived. He
fills a patriot's grave; the soil of Cold Harbor never received a braver
heart, though buried by stranger hands. He sleeps in peace, and I
would say to his bereaved parents, ' You have given a noble sacrifice
to your country, and he will meet you at the final muster day when
the noble Army of the Potomac shall all fall in.' John Blakely, too,
has gone; his quiet, unassuming face we never shall see again below,
but his memory will be cherished as one more victim of this accursed
Rebellion."

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR. 101
flag, he enlisted and suffered as above. He did not rejoin the
regiment, but was discharged, and later served the people of
Wolcott as postmaster.
The 3d of June witnessed the charge that General Grant, in
his memoirs, says he would not order again had he the work
to do over. Colonel John W. Horn of the 6th Maryland is in
temporary command, owing to the illness of Colonel Smith.
Again we form the second and third lines, and, in the midst of
a drizzling rain, which almost always followed a battle, and
at an early hour, we advanced, possibly 200 yards, when we
intrenched, improvising all sorts of implements for this purpose,
bayonets, tin cups and plates, and even spoons. We are in
plain sight of the enemy's works, which seem specially formid
able, but luckily for us we are not ordered to assault them.
Four men of the regiment are killed and several wounded.
At nightfall, we withdrew a short distance and threw up
breastworks, in which business we claimed to be experts. Our
position, however, is so exposed that we are obliged to make
shorter lines, at right angles to the main ones, that we may,
in a degree, protect ourselves from the cross-fire to which we
are constantly subjected. Perhaps the four years did not afford
an instance when sharpshooters, on both sides, did so much
service as at Cold Harbor. They were in trees and behind
earthworks in a way to sweep the entire space, and no man
showed his head without danger of being a target. As in
everything else, "familiarity breeds contempt," and men
learned to take their chances. If one were hit it was his ill
luck. If he escaped it was his good fortune. Of course there
were foolhardy soldiers who would take no pains to protect
themselves, and oftentimes they went scot-free. Sometimes
however, they tempted fortune too often. One man in his
temerity, while leveling the top of the works, finding himself
in range, made believe he was "at the bat" in baseball, and
with his shovel played hitting the ball, all the time cursing
the rebels, and saying they couldn't hit him. On the contrary,
when the artillery firing was heavy, and the air was full of
shrieking missiles, Jimmy  threw himself into the trench
saying, "I'll never see Biddy and the little chicks again."
There was a marked difference in the endurance of men.
One receiving a shot in the wrist made thrice the outcry
that an officer did when his shoulder was crushed. Frank

102 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Orterlipp, whose legs were taken off by a cannon-ball, gave no
token of his injury except a groan, lapsing soon into uncon
sciousness, and so bleeding to death. Till the 12th day of June,
there was little variation in our work. We were under fire all
the time, day and night. When we were in front, of course we
were more exposed than when further back. To get to the
front line, we had to follow sunken paths to keep as far as pos
sible out of sight. The advance that we made on the first day
placed us where we were liable to shots from front, left and
right, and there were very few hours of the twenty-four when
we did not receive some indication of rebel proximity. Ball,
shell and bullet were constantly speeding, sometimes in volleys,
more often in a way which seemed to say, "We have not for
gotten you." The trees must have become filled with lead and
iron, to plague the wood-chopper of subsequent years.
Sergeant E. was standing back of a tree, half as large through
as his body, when a shell from the right cut the tree off so
squarely and perfectly as not to distrub its equilibrium, but
it was lifted off its stump and for some time stood erect by its
side. The sergeant's face was a study as he thus lost his sup
port. Evidently he thought a tree a vain thing for safety. Tom
C  and a party of dare-devil comrades are having a game of
poker on what seemed to be the safe side of a big tree. Whether
seen or not they suddenly found themselves the storm centre
of musketry, and the tree responds actively to the peculiar
"pit" of bullets stopped. The boys vow they will finish that
game anyway, and swear incessantly at the rebs for disturbing
them, and with no perceptible acceleration they complete the
game, and then defer to the firing, only to the extent of moving
to the other side of the tree. From far-away Wisconsin, M. L.
Vandervoort sends this description of the death of 1st Sergeant
A. H. Follett of Company C: "It was on the 5th day of June
and of the fight that Jeremiah Skinner and I were frying hard
tack when Sergeant Follett came up and wanted to borrow our
spider. As soon as we had turned out our food, we passed it
over to him, and he put it between his knees to break up his
crackers in it. Apparently we were in sight of sharpshooters,
and we tried to locate them, but while doing so we heard a
slight sound, and turned to find the sergeant's head fallen for
ward into his frying-pan, having been instantly killed.
The odor from dead bodies had become very offensive. Early

FROM THE NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR. 103
in the engagement General Grant had proposed a system to
care for stricken ones of both sides, but no agreement was
reached with General Lee till the seventh day. Meanwhile,
those wounded men who had not been rescued at imminent
peril by their comrades had died. Under the hot sun of June
the stench was intolerable, and when an hour's respite was had
the work was done indifferently. A lieutenant, writing home,
said, "I went half way across the field and met several of the
rebels, some officers. They were very friendly, well fed and
well clothed. When time was up, flag went down, and firing
began again. Our men are building forts and getting heavy
guns in place. Rebs told me yesterday they had 300,000 men."
Evidently, bluff was a favorite game with warriors on both sides.
Night added to the interest of the scene, for then we had noise
and a 4th of July display of fireworks as hissing shells de
scribed all sorts of curves over or through our lines. Then
would come the familiar "ki-yi-yi-yi" of the rebels as they
charged upon our works, to be answered by the equally clear
"hurrah" of our own side. Still, rations were drawn and
cooked just as though we were miles away from the enemy.
Sometimes the tents are crowded, but the occupants can only
growl their displeasure. Mails come and go, just as if we were
not almost in h — 1 itself. One man records that he read one
of H. W. Beecher's sermons in the New York Independent as
he held his place behind the works.
The whole Potomac Army did not contain a gayer, freer
heart than that of "Jim" Horner of the 111th New York. He
was personally known to many in the Ninth, for, in the muster
ing and disbursing office in Auburn, he had served with them.
Accordingly, when in one of the lulls of the Cold Harbor storm,
Horner came over to see his old friends, he received the warm
est welcome the boys could give him. While there was no
great fighting going on, the sharpshooters were at it, and the
zip of bullets was as common as conversation. "Then you ain't
killed yet, Jim," says one old acquaintance. "No siree," was
the ready reply, "The bullet isn't run that can kill me." This
item not only illustrates the familiarity that we felt towards
these messengers of death, but also how vain is boasting, for
though he left us all right and returned to his regiment
unharmed, he was shot dead the next day in a charge made
upon the lines of the 2d Corps. The bullet had been run, and

104 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
when the soldier spoke was less than twenty-four hours from
its awful mission.
During this battle-halt at Cold Harbor a soldier received a
pass to visit the 9th Corps, and thus to look up certain
school friends in the 24th New York Cavalry, not yet mounted.
He found his acquaintances with their carbines and yellow
stripes doing infantry duty, and in the best of spirits. Just
where they were the front was specially exposed, and the pick
ets, in plain view, were keeping themselves busy with like par
ties on the other side. To see a wounded man walk or be helped
back out of range was a common affair, yet the friends talked
on as though they were again in school days, upon the ball-
field, or arranging for a swimming-trip to the river. Old Colonel
Richards and Major Taylor of the 24th were in evidence, and
everybody who had a duty to perform was attending to it, but
the air of perfect indifference, as now recalled, seems strange
enough. Sometimes it appeared as though the soldiers had
fallen into the Mahometan's notion of Kismet. If it was to
be, it would be, and if not, then not. The visit over, the Ninth
boy returned to his own company to find the work of war pro
gressing just as he left it, and he had had a few hours off,
though not for a moment out of range.
By the night of the 10th it became apparent that we are to
make some sort of a move, since a deal of marching and halt
ing are done. The 11th, rations are drawn, but we don't stay
long enough in one place to cook the beans. It requires several
efforts to reduce them to an edible condition. Evidently we
are more remote from the enemy, for we are no longer targets,
but strategy or some other military necessity demands long
lines of earthworks; the strongest and best we had as yet con
structed. Large trees are felled, and upon skids are carried
to the works and laid up; picks and shovels in the hands of
lusty men and boys do the rest. To the untaught soldier, it
occasionally seemed that he was doing a deal of useless work,
yet he had found such fortifications exceedingly handy, on
occasion, so he toiled on, and just grumbled.
Companies F, G, I and L, constituting the 3d Battalion,
having been detached May 31 to serve in the artillery brigade
under Colonel Tompkins,* it is proper to now follow them to
*Col. Charles H. Tompkins, born in Orange Co., N. Y., May 15, 1834,
commanded the 1st R. I. Light Artillery, three batteries of which, C,

FROM THB NORTH ANNA THROUGH COLD HARBOR. 105
Cold Harbor. Though separated from the rest of the regiment,
the duties of this battalion were not unlike those of the others,
unless there was a little more digging among them. They
were on picket, on reserve, supporting batteries, guarding am
munition trains, and in all soldierly ways making themselves
useful. They were in reserve on the 1st of June when the rest
of the regiment was in the fight, but their work came at night,
when with picks and shovels as well as guns they moved up
to make new or to strengthen old earthworks. Occasionally
they worked out between foe and friend, and when the ball
opened over them, as it did occasionally, it was necessary for
them to lie very low. A home letter of this period says : "There
are twelve four-gun batteries, forty-eight pieces in all. We go
out at night to the first line of battle about forty rods from the
rebel lines and work, building earthworks to mount heavy
siege-guns and mortars. We are hoping to drive the rebs out
of their strong works, which are surrounded with abatis. Sharp
shooters make the work dangerous. We leave at 3 A. M. to
escape the daylight fire. We are subject at times to heavy
firing, but little harm has been done."
A captain in this battalion writes thus to his wife June 9:
"I am getting very unsteady, for I am out all night, every
night, and lie in bed till noon. Am just up to write to you.
12 M. Lying in my little tent, about four feet high, I pass the
most of the day. I can give you no idea of my home better
than for you to take two small sheets, fasten together an edge
of each and lay them over a pole, sustained four feet from the
ground; spread out the corners and stake them down; throw
in several boughs for carpet and bed, and it is done. Front
and back doors open at all times. We went out yesterday after
noon to work under flag of truce. Just got to work when it
was withdrawn, and our batteries opened briskly. It made
the men stare to see how near to the rebs we had been at work
at night. We had built a fort twelve feet high, mounted four
guns, run out flanks and parallels, and are ready to open fire
at any time. Our company gets great praise for its work, and

E and G, were in the brigade. He was by the side of General Sedge -
wick on the 9th of May, '64, when the latter was killed at Spottsyl
vania, and his arms received the general as he fell. Col. Tompkins
won distinguished honors in the valley, and was mustered out as
brigadier general in 1865.

106 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
I know that it deserves it. There is not so much chance for
glory in our duties as in charges, assaults, etc., but it is a satis
faction to know that what is given us to do, we do well, and
though the shovel is slow it is sure, and saves life and limb.
The rebel works are very strong, and no assault can be made
without great loss. There was a battery in our front which a
week ago annoyed us very much. It could not be assaulted and
carried, nor silenced by our batteries, so we took our shovels
and picks, and in two nights put our sharpshooters into a posi
tion from which the rebs could not drive them, nor could they
use their own guns, and so had to evacuate. I tell you, 'spades
are trumps' here."
Sometimes their digging unearthed the dead of the early
days of the fight, and the stench therefrom was horrible. One
officer narrates his experience in taking a drink from his can
teen. "A rebel bullet went clean through it, when Michael
 , with rare presence of mind, put his hands over both
holes and poured the precious contents into an empty canteen."
June 8th a newspaper correspondent was marched around the
lines with placards on back and breast narrating his besetting
sins. It was a sorry occasion for him. Though not in the
midst of the heaviest fighting, every day brought some mis
chief to the men of these companies so that they, too, were
glad to see indications of withdrawal, for the same orders were
obeyed at nearly the same time.
The official data from our own officers concerning Cold Har
bor are very meagre. Major Charles Burgess, then command
ing the regiment, under date Sept. 8, 1864, thus reports to A. A.,
adjutant general of the brigade : "On the night of the 27th and
the 28th the regiment marched with the division to the Pa
munkey, and on the 29th toward Cold Harbor. This day we
were in charge of and covered the wagon-train. Being in the
rear on the night of the 29th we were ordered to report to
Colonel Edwards,* who detailed two companies for picket-duty
with his command. On the 30th Companies D and M, with
part of E under Major Charles Burgess, were detailed for
picket-duty in the front, and did not join the regiment until
the 2d of June. On the 31st Companies F, G, I and L, under
command of Major James W. Snyder, were detached from the
regiment, and were placed in the artillery brigade. On the
night of the 31st the two companies, under Colonel Edwards,
?Colonel Oliver Edwards, 37th Massachusetts, commanding the 3d
Brigade, 1st Division.

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 107
being relieved from picket, joined the regiment, which joined
the brigade and arrived at Cold Harbor at noon. The regi
ment proper, Companies A, B, C, H, K, and part of E, partici
pated in the action on the 1st of June, being posted one-half in
the front line and the remainder in the second line of battle,
charging the works of the enemy in that position. On the
morning of the 2d of June the command under Major Charles
Burgess joined the regiment, and participated in the action of
June 3d."
On the 3d of June Colonel John W. Horn assumed temporary
command of the brigade on account of the illness of Colonel
B. F. Smith. The latter resumed command June 12. It will
be remembered that General Kiefer was absent at this time,
having been wounded in the Wilderness May 5.
General Thomas W. Hyde in his "Following the Greek Cross"
says, page 211: "This battle was a series of attacks all along
the line, which was five or six miles long. Its management
would have shamed a cadet in his first year at West Point.
Seldom could we gain a foothold even for a moment 
That we lost 15,000 men and the enemy 1,500, is commentary
enough on the generalship of the commanding general at this
stage of his career. . . . It is very interesting to revisit the
battlefields of the war, but I have never heard anyone who was
engaged there express a wish to seek Cold Harbor again. Its
vast upheaval of earth in fort and rifle-pit, in transverse and
covered way, may now have yielded to the sun, the rain, and
the plow, but it remains in memory the 'Golgotha of American
History.' "

CHAPTER XIII.
From Cold Harbor to Petersburg.
Having thrown up fortifications that the enemy could by no
means overcome, and not caring to waste more lives in endeav
oring to capture them, at the same time keeping up such a
show of aggressiveness that the Confederates all thought us
still in position, General Grant resumed his flank movement,
and on the night of June 12th we noiselessly withdrew, and
the 13th revealed to General Lee only our empty trenches,
while their late occupants were getting down towards the

108 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
James river. The roads had become deep with dust, the sun
was like a ball of fire, but we toil on with a southerly trend,
crossing the Chickahominy at Jones' bridge. The name of the
stream recalls all that we had read in 1862 of the tiresome
campaign along its banks. The appearance of the country
improves as we advance — grassy plains, fields of standing
grain, lovely flowers, all cheer us after the desolation of Cold
Harbor. On the 14th we approach the James river, through
Charles City Court House, and pitch our tents on ground that
had its gloss of history before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth,
for we are told that a tree surrounded by a brick wall marked
the place where Pocahontas saved the life of Captain John
Smith. Just a few miles below us is all that is left of James
town, and near by is the roomy mansion of John Tyler, the
first accidental president of the United States. Some irre
pressible soldiers visit the place, partake of food within its
historic walls, and bring away teacups as relics. Others have
been there before, as the floors strewn with books and sheet
music amply testify.
But even here we must work. The 15th a corduroy road
must be laid as an approach to the long pontoon bridge which
here spans the river. More than 200 boats were thus employed,
and as the current was strong and the tide had a movement of
four feet, it was necessary to attach the boats to anchored vessels
above and below. A drove of cattle driven across the bridge
afforded us no little fun, showing us how four-footed animals
look in an intoxicated gait. The river was filled with shipping,
and on the shore was a small hamlet, where some of the boys
interviewed an aged colored man who claimed to be 108 years
old, and yet sighed for liberty. Foraging is common, and there
are few soldiers who do not get a taste of fresh meat grown on
this sacred soil. We are at Wilcox's Landing, said to be two
miles below the more noted Harrison's. Sutler's stores could
be had for cash, though lemons cost ten cents apiece and
tobacco two dollars a plug. Late in the afternoon of the 16th,
we cross the James upon a transport, and after a short march
camp for the night. Drew three days' rations on the 17th, and
went aboard transports again and steamed up the river to City
Point, where we stopped briefly, and some were fortunate
enough to get a supply of pickles from the Sanitary Commis
sion. Landed at Point of Rocks and marched to Bermuda

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 109
Hundred, made famous in connection with the name of B. F.
Butler. Hard by was the tallest framework erected for a sig
nal-stand that we had ever seen. It stood on Cobb's hill, and
was 200 feet high, having a platform nine feet square at the
top. Observers were generally raised by a windlass and in a
basket, though they could climb by ladders if they preferred.
The 2d Division of our corps had gone on to Petersburg, while
we of the 1st and 3d were up here to help Butler in some way.
After usual marching and detours, we go into camp. The works
constructed under the direction of General Q. A. Gilmore
seemed to be strength itself. Evidently we are off here for a
purpose, but as "heaven from all creatures hides the book of
fate," so to the rank and file the future is wholly inscrutable,
and what that purpose is we do not know. Years later we
learned that our divisions were directed to charge the rebel
fortifications, but to General Wright's practiced eye the project
was not feasible. It is said that General Butler sent to him
one of his peculiar messages to this effect: "I send you an order
to fight; you send me an argument." In Butler's book it ap
pears that Wright's corps was not the one he wanted. He was
very particular. We suited Sheridan. Some of us will recall
the stories told of telegraph wire interlacing the stumps and
trees, thus to entrap the unwary Union soldiers should they
undertake the assault.
However, on the 18th we do go out through our works, and
form a long line in front of them. Here Colonel Seward ad
dresses us and tells us what we are expected to do; his first
speech to us since taking command of the regiment. But we
are not to contribute to the battle record this day, for soon an
elderly officer, apparently one in authority, appears, and we
are ordered back. So out we go, the rebels giving us some
parting though ineffectual reminders of their proximity. It
was amusing to note the haste that some men manifested as
they were getting out of this wilderness. To some of us the
whole business seemed like marching up the hill and then
marching down again. Many will remember the hopper or
machine cannon, an early Gatling, which had given the enemy
no little trouble. In assaulting our lines, they had tested its
efficiency; indeed, they were reported to have said that the
Yanks had a gun that they just wound up and it ran all night.
We are northeast of Petersburg and less than ten miles away
from it. Our gunboats do not go above this point.

110

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

The 19th of June we spent largely in the trenches, and in
the afternoon we retrace our steps, crossing the Appomattox
near Point of Rock on a long pontoon bridge overspread with
hay, we think, to deaden the sound of our footsteps. Our di
rection is that of Petersburg, in whose vicinity we camp late
at night.
The morning of the 20th revealed us near the rebel intrench
ments, so near that their shells rendered the drawing of rations
uncomfortable, and we politely withdrew a respectful distance,
and a considerable part of the day was restfully spent in the
woods. A careful chronicler states that a negro was handed
this day for rape. He does not state by whom the deed was
done nor where, but merely enters it as an act of signal justice;
a forerunner, it would seem, of the hundreds of lynchings of
later years. The 20th may be given as the date of reaching
what we called Petersburg. Of course the city was many miles
away, but we were as near it as we were likely to be for many
a long and weary month. We are south of the city, and we
lose no time in proceeding to breastwork making; we take to
it naturally. By this time, we had become expert cooks of
what was given us or of what we could draw from the enemy,
of course it being assumed that all natives were such. Also
what Albert D. Richardson called entomological researches had
become a sad necessity, and every man to cleanliness inclined had
to thoroughly inspect his garments for the Corporis pediculus,

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 11]
or body-louse. He was no respecter of persons, and an officer's
body was no more to him than that of the smallest private in
the ranks. The sight of rows of shirtless men regardless of
military distinction, engaged in closely inspecting every seam,
and at intervals using both thumb-nails in a sort of roller-like
motion, was one to excite amazement, and a frequent thought
was, "What would our folks say if they could see us?"
Though the long siege of Petersburg had begun, we were
not to settle down in one place for any length of time. At
nightfall the 6th Corps moved out to the Jerusalem plank road,
forming on the left of the 2d Corps; then came the 3d, and
finally the 2d Corps at the very left, with one brigade facing
to the left and rear. It was another dance in the dark, but
skirmishers were thrown out and we advanced till we reached
the enemy's pickets, who were driven in. Our order to halt
was followed by one to intrench, but we had no utensils with
us save one shovel. But the earth was loosened by bayonets,
and once more cups, spoons and plates proved to be very
effectual. Five rods in front, at the edge of a dense floods, was
a fine rail-fence, which we noiselessly abstracted and worked
into the inside of our defenses. Three hours of this hard work
produced a line of works that would have been exceedingly
useful in case of an attack, but we were not disturbed, though
there was squabbling as to who should have the best places
along our intrenched line. The tinkling of a cow-bell away
in the darkness suggested lacteal possibilities that some of our
men would have availed themselves of had they not been re
strained by those who said it was simply a rebel device to cap
ture some thirsty Yank. Morning brought the wagon-train
with intrenching tools, and the 22d of June saw us with a well-
equipped line of works before us; but it was not a case of "In
place, rest," for in line we advanced over our works, into and
through a piece of woods, likewise into a second, where the
enemy's bullets began to hum right merrily. There was noth
ing to record for the day save the occasional carrying back of
a wounded man. At 4 P. M. or thereabouts we about-face and
march back to our starting-place. After making coffee, we
resumed our position in line and again advanced, thinking this
time it meant something. Possibly there was no occasion in the
regiment's history where the book's description of a charge was
so fully realized as on this.

112 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The sun was near his setting, but there was still light enough
to see clearly a long way ahead. It appeared that we were too
far to the left, so we were halted, and the command to fix
bayonets was given. It was obeyed in a jiffy; the colonel was
on horseback, and skirmishing in front clearly indicated the pres
ence of the enemy. For the first time, on such an occasion, we
were in the first line, and then we heard the words, "Right face,
forward, march!" and we went a short distance, no one could
tell how far, when the colonel's voice rang out, "By the left
flank, double quick, charge!" and away we went yelling at the
top of our voices, and expecting every moment to be saluted
with leaden hail. The speed with which we advanced and the
irregular surface soon broke up our alignment, and to crown
all, before we had charged a great ways we came into full view
of earthworks, presumably well manned. Thus far we had
encountered only desultory firing. Nearer and nearer we come
to the works, and wonder when the stream of fire will blaze
from them, possibly checking our advance. In much less time
than it talies to tell it, we were over the works and through
the camp, which the foe had left precipitately. They forsook
their supper in preparation, and in no way stood on the order
of their going, but what they left was not to our liking, for
we had no relish for their cooking, and, besides, we wanted
the cooks themselves; but the latter, judging by our yells, had
thought the whole army of the Potomac after them, and taking
their guns the Johnnies had gone. We followed through the
woods and across an open field, on the other side of which the
trees were burning. Notwithstanding this, some of the men
dashed on, but the majority heard the order to halt.
Night was upon us, and all we knew was that we were still
on the earth. It seemed a long time before the second line
came up, so rapidly had we rushed through the works. We
were ready to regain our breath, and to rest. After a while
we marched a short distance to our right, and lay down. Here
we passed the night. The 23d was a day on which the careful
soldier needed eyes all around his head, for our enemy seemed
to be on every hand, and we threw up works that could be
defended on either side. Things put on a very lively air at
nightfall, for bullets came seemingly from every direction. Our
defenses helped us on one side only. We were like sheep in the
shambles till there came a welcome command to fall in, and

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 113
with guns and shovels shouldered we began our retreat, lying
down when the firing was heaviest, and marching between the
volleys. The dense darkness was our shield, and at last we
came in sight of the works constructed by us on the 21st.
Our step was almost jaunty as we took our former stations,
for now we knew where the rebels were; unmistakably they
were before us; a few moments before they had been all about
us. Then followed a good night's rest, and on the morning of
the 24th came the order to clear off the surface back of us and
to pitch our tents in systematic order, a task so unfamiliar that
we had almost forgotten how. This was the first rest for the
Ninth since leaving Belle Plain. Headquarters and regimental
wagons came up for the first time, and in the following days
there was an opportunity to boil our shirts and socks, and
otherwise contribute to cleanliness. Picket-duty was done in
turn by all the companies, but nothing more startling than the
visits of the grand rounds ensued, though members of one com
pany insist on stating that one of their number, on vidette,
snored so loudly that they heard him on their post. They found
him stretched out at full length, perfectly indifferent to friend
or foe. As he was a man much older than the others, they did
not place him thus again, not caring to take the risk both on
their own account, and on his as well, nor did they report him.
Fatigue, too, began again, and the company streets were po
liced, and regimental headquarters had to be embellished with
leafy boughs, etc. Very slight infractions sufficed to put a
man on extra duty. It is on record that Chaplain Mudge
preached Sunday, the 26th. On the 28th the remainder of the
67th Pennsylvania, under command of Colonel John F. Stan
ton, joined the brigade.
The 29th day brought a review by General Wright, and in the
afternoon an advance to Reams' Station on the Weldon rail
road, it afterwards appeared, for the purpose of co-operating
with Kautz and Wilson, who were there expected to come in
from their raid. It was late, and no sooner had we got our
coffee under way than we were ordered to move some rods to
the right. Again we had begun the all-important coffee pro
cess when the inevitable move-over order was heard.. By this
time the temper of our worthy colonel was thoroughly roiled,
and bridling up we heard him say, distinctly and emphatically,
"Present my compliments to General  , and tell him that
8

114

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

this regiment will not move again to-night." We thought
cheers if we did not utter them; not that our camping-place
was particularly good, for many of us were insulated on grassy
tussocks somewhat moist in their nature, but we did want to
rest. We were finding that the proverbial three times turning
round of a canine before stretching himself out at length, was
nothing to what an army really does before it camps. We
were not again disturbed during the night, but took our coffee
and hardtack in peace.
The 30th and last day of June brought more digging, our
normal occupation. So constantly were we at this that the
rebs said of us that we would burrow out of sight like the
rabbits, and almost as quickly. Muster came, and with it an ob
servation from Colonel Seward that some of the recruits were
inexpressibly awkward. He ordered many of the men to step
out, and gave directions to have them specially tutored, but
officers were quite too busy to give much attention to awkward
squads. The men knew how to march and shoot, really the
only two requisites at this time. Many a man in the Ninth re
called this day as a red-letter one in his calendar, for did he
not here find goodly stores of food among the people, and how
ready he was to appropriate what he needed? Here is a brief
enumeration: flour, corn-meal, lard, new potatoes, preserves,
fresh pork — what more could he want? Time has not effaced
the memory of the scalding day, nor how the members of the
different messes worked to get up a variety. The fire beneath
his skillet was scarcely hotter than that which the sun poured
down on both him and his
frying-pan — but weren't those
slap-jacks good? He had his
choice of dressing for them —
flour-gravy, or sorghum that
the Confederacy also supplied.
Did this feast for so many
men leave families hungry?
Doubtless, and at this period,
it seems as though the homes
should have been left un
touched, but we were hungry
then; we are not now; besides,
was on every tongue. With

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
"All's fair in love and war'

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 115
intervening time and distance, moralizing is easy; no one
thought of it then. Why ! one man had no hesitation in saying
that a woman, claiming to be ill, was lying on a bed under
which he found most of his stolen articles. He always said
he took them because she lied to him, saying there was nothing
edible in the house, and of course no soldier could tolerate
lying, not even in bed. Our mission was to inculcate the high
est morality.
Though we were thinking we might remain here some time,
we were doomed to disappointment, for before night we were
marched by way of Jerusalem plank road to a point near the
Williams house, and halted between 9 and 10 o'clock, natural
ly in a corn-field, though we had just passed through a beauti
ful field of standing grass. However, it is probable that some
other regiment had it if we didn't. The 1st of July was mainly
spent in this place sunning ourselves in the dirt after the manner
of fowls, though guard-duty is done at the houses of some of
the people nominally Union, but we have our doubts. Some
of the good things of yesterday's feast hold over, so that om-
more unusual meal is possible. At night we packed up and
went on again, but for only a short distance, and this time luck
was ours, for we got the grass, and were literally in clover.
Then was heard the order to pitch our tents, but some of us
have learned to take certain directions by the rule of contraries.
The above order was too often followed, when the tents were
well up^ with a command to pack up and fall in, while a sim
ple "In place, rest," very often presaged a halt of many hours.
The night was bright and clear, the stars radiant, and it was
a pleasure to look away to them without any intervening tent,
for somehow then home seemed nearer, since those same lumi
naries were shining on far away western New York as well
as on Virginia. Scarcely had sleep touched our eyelids ere
we were ordered up and into line. Soon we were off on an all-
night's tramp. How monotonous those interminable Virginia
pine forests seemed. No variety, but one unbroken array of
dull, lonesome, sighing trees. Much of the country was covered
with second growth, which seemingly had followed fields of
corn, spontaneously. It was a common remark among the sol
diers, as they fitted their bodies into the depressions between
what had been hills of corn in the long ago, "These blanked
rebels have been getting . ready for the war more than thirty
years ; they couldn't fight without trees."

116 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Night-marching made men dull, morose, and cross, all anx
iously looking for the dawn, and when at last the eastern sky
grew gray there were men who thought, if they did not say, —
"The morning light is breaking, the darkness disappears;"
while they varied the second part of Smith's glorious hymn
somewhat thus:
"The sons of earth are marching, 'mid penitential tears."
Truly we thought the breezes sweeping o'er, not the ocean,
but this fated Southland brought tidings from afar, not of
foreign, but domestic war. It was morn of July 2d when our
long march ended where it began when we started for Reams'
Station. The heat was terrible, and the men took their rations
uncooked if possible; even coffee-cooking was a serious task.
Air in motion was like a simoon, and the dust was inches deep.
We were about five miles south of Petersburg at Williams
House. Picket-duty was a relief, and men hailed its imposition
with pleasure, though they moved out that night in the midst
of a drenching rain. It was cooling, and that was what they
wanted. Heavy thunder with lightning added variety. It was
when one of the loudest peals was rattling through the sk;--
that Tom C, having Grant's great flank movement in mind,
said, "Look out, men, they are flanking us above." The rain
ceasing, and having with rails made some sort of a defense in
front of the reserve, the following hours on picket we pass not
unpleasantly. To the vidette standing three rods in front of the post, it is
stated that there is nothing between him and the enemy, that
the safety of the army depends on his vigilance. How acute
becomes his hearing ! The snapping of a twig is surely the ap
proach of a foe, and he peers into the thicket before him. He
can not walk a beat, for that would betray his presence. He
must be still and just watch. However severe this duty in the
day, it becomes doubly so in the night. Then tired nature calls
for sleep, but he must not yield. The touching of leafy branches
in the wind rouses his suspicion, and the movement of some
night-prowling animal is surely the step of a stealthy foe. The
hours here are so very, very long, but even they have an end,
and again day gladdens his sight. Though with the morn came
rain, that, too, soon passed on. Then followed a faultless mid
day, during which some of us studied the effects of war as

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 117
applied to the plantation of one Henry Gurly, M. D., who had
departed with his family on the approach of our forces. His
faithful [?] contrabands are left in full possession, and they
occupied thoroughly. They had ransacked the house and were
wearing every bit of finery it afforded; everything that they
could by any means use they had appropriated. They were
living on the fat of the land. The lines of Henry C. Work's
song, "Kingdom Coming," are suggested:
''The darkeys feel so lonesom libin'
In de log-house on delawn;
They move dar tings to massa's parlor,
For to keep it while he's gone.
Dar's wine an' cider in de kitchen,
An' de darkeys dey'll hab some,
I s'pose dey'll all be confiscated,
When de Linkum sojers come."
*****
"De whip is lost, de han'-cuff broken,
But de massa '11 hab his pay;
He's ole enough, big enough, ought to know better,
Dan to went an' run away."
The elegant furnishings were at the mercy of the negro and
mischievous soldiery. Some of the latter played the piano,
fortissimo, and others walked on it. The negro quarters, which
were numerous and populous, were curiosities. There could be
found much that properly belonged to the house, but there were
many articles that had been given to favorite servants, who, in
turn, were ready to pass the same along to the soldiers if de
sired. Near the picket-line there were indications of forays in the
shape of graves of soldiers so thinly covered as to only partly
hide their sickening contents.
The 4th of July, ever glorious, found the Potomac Army be
fore Petersburg and full of patriotic music. The rebels were
equally melodious with their somewhat limited repertoire, but
by tacit consent there was very little firing, though pickets
were told to be particularly vigilant for fear of a surprise.
Quite likely rebel pickets had similar instructions. From some
source the regiment was favored with loaves of soft bread,
the first since leaving Alexandria. No one thought of butter
in his eagerness to give hardtack a rest, and there were berries

118 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
too. Late in the afternoon of the 5th, Lieutenant Brinkerhoff
of Company A leads a small party on a reconnoissance, but
discovers nothing except a Johnnie cavalryman stealing oats.
The morning of the 6th brought relief to those on picket, and
they marched back only to find the other companies ready for
some sort of an expedition, no one knew where.
The night before tents had been pitched with great precision,
which in itself augured an early departure. A little after mid
night the authorities had been ordered to march in the morn
ing to City Point, and there to take transports for Baltimore,
and thence to Harper's Ferry. This we knew later; then we
had only to "forward, march." If from the North Anna down we
had a mud test of our endurance, this day was to give us an
equally severe trial of dust. It did not seem as though it could
be ankle deep on the roads, so much of it was in the air. Dust
and perspiration combined to make facial effects never before
or since surpassed. No mother could have recognized her own
son in those "dust-browned ranks," which, after fifteen miles of
misery, at about noon threw themselves upon the ground over
looking the dock at City Point. There was very little attempt
at order as we lay there, and when on the approach of General
Grant, who was picking his way through and over the prostrate
men, some over-zealous officer desired us to stand at attention,
the great commander said: "No, lie still, men, and rest if you
can;" murmured blessings were called down upon his head by
many a boy who heard the remark. Food was scarce, but some
soldiers were fortunate enough to get supplies from the Christian
Commission. Some, too, went aboard certain boats and slept
until ordered off, and then onto others. Meanwhile, those upon
the shore were treated to a variety of incidents, as, when three
luckless fellows, sleeping on the edge of a deep pit and in their
dreams tumbled in, a commotion arose over their discomfiture
and extrication. Later came a great alarm, so noisy that a
general attack was suspected, though it was really only a team
of unruly mules trying to run away, thereby inducing a chorus
of "whoas" from a thousand throats.
Rations were carried aboard the transports, and we started
away at different hours, Companies A, B, C on the Winona,
the others on the Salvador.
During this period of a little more than three weeks, the 3d
Battalion had done its work faithfully, but apart from the regi-

FROM COLD HARBOR TO PETERSBURG. 119
ment. The march down to the James differed in no essential
feature from that of the other battalions. The men encountered
the same dust, and suffered from heat and hunger as did their
comrades in the other eight companies. They boil wheat and
parch corn for food, meanwhile complaining because guards
are placed in rebel houses and by the wells so that our men
have to drink swamp-water. The 1st sergeant of one of the
companies, busy in making a detail for picket, had his tent
pitched by his mate, and when, late and very tired, he lifted
the flap of his tent, as he supposed, and threw himself down
by the side of his comrade, he did not discover his error till
morning, when he was aroused by the odor of his bunkie, and
found that he had wandered near the hospital and had been
sleeping by the side of a corpse. On the 16th the battalion
crosses the James at 6 P. M. on a pontoon bridge, made of 103
boats, and makes a night's march towards Petersburg. The
17th brought the men to the investing lines. It was on this
march that our boys met the 24th New York Cavalry, which
had not up to that time been mounted, but with all their yellow
trappings were doing infantry service. Someone of ours sang
out as the lines met, "Well, boys, where are your horses?" The
reply was exceedingly apt as the cavalryman answered, "We
sent them all down to City Point to draw up your cannon."
It was a frequent taunt thrown at us that we had taken the
big guns off our caps and placed them on our shoulders, but
such badinage bred no hard feelings; we were all the merrier
for it. >
There is plenty of firing all along the lines, and the be
leaguered city can be plainly seen from elevated points. One
company encamped on a planter's premises finds a number of
guns, sabres and other weapons of war, some apparently for
gotten in a hurried departure. On the 18th the battalion
changed position. Captain Sinclair was hit, not seriously, by
a piece of shell, on the 19th. On the 20th those who had the
good fortune to visit corps headquarters saw President Lincoln,
Secretary Stanton, Generals Grant, Meade, and other notables.
June 21st march to the left in southerly direction across Nor
folk and Petersburg railroad; at 8 A. M., 22d, halted six miles
south of Petersburg. Till the 29th much time was spent in the
rifle-pits and in the regular moving, to which the troops were
constantly subjected. Wells are dug, and conveniences of camp

120 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
are established. At 3 P. M. started with corps to participate
in Wilson's raid on Weldon railroad. Several miles of track
were torn up. Hungry soldiers, ever on the alert, dig up wine
and other luxuries buried in gardens. The sagacity of hungry
men at times surpasses the smelling record of bloodhounds.
June 30th a return march of several miles was begun, and a
camp was made over the 1st of July. It was on this backward
turning that A  B  of Company I had lots of fun
all by himself. He had raided some countryman, and with coat,
put on over his knapsack, he was several points ahead of the
famous hunch-back of Notre Dame. Wearing, besides, a tall
hat and an umbrella, he excited the risibles of the 3d Division
not a little. Though falling out was forbidden, he somehow
managed to slip his orders. On the 2d the battalion found it
self in the same place left on the 29th of June. During this day
in camp some of the boys have the unusual luxuries of beets
and sage tea. Could anything be more absurd than that drink!
Those same boys would have resented it at home, unless served
by mother with an accompaniment of feet soaking and a direct
run to bed. Till the 8th there was little variation in the
regular work, in the trenches or on guard duty. The dust and
heat are memorable. Company G builds headquarters for
Colonel Thompson, commanding the artillery brigade, and the
companies fall back half a mile to a new line of works. Al
ways there is opportunity to use the shovel, for the breast
works were never quite finished. No man can tell the starting-
place of rumors, but somehow the idea gains credence that
Breckinridge and Ewell are near Harper's Ferry and that the
6th Corps will be sent north.
On the 8th come orders to pack up and start for City Point;
at 9 P. M. the boys were on their way, and they marched nearly
all night through indescribable dust. Every face in the morn
ing looked as though it wore a mask. They board the steamer
Thomas Powell at 9 A. M., and are delighted to be free from
dust for a short time. Few know or care about the object of
the change from land to water; but they are grateful for a
little variation.

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY. 1131
CHAPTER XIV.
To and Through Monocacy.
The ride down the James on the 7th of July was an oasis in
the campaign's desert. To be sure, much of interest along the
river's banks was passed in the night, but we touched at Fort
ress Monroe; we saw the tip of a ship's mast, flag-surmounted,
above the water in Hampton Roads, and were told that it was
that of the Cumberland, destroyed by the Merrimac March 8th,
1862; in the distance we might have seen the seminary to be in
after years a National Soldiers' Home, and near it the site of
the Hampton Institute, to be the place for educating negroes
and Indians, under General Armstrong. We pass in sight of
Capes Charles and Henry, thus named by Sir Christopher Gos
nold in a spirit of loyalty, and we have a chance to reflect on
the intensely English character of our surroundings, for till
we swing around into Chesapeake bay we are riding on the
James, named for the father of the two princes, whose appella
tions bid fair to ever grace these two noteworthy points. The
vessels bearing the division do not keep together; indeed,
some troops, including the division commander, are distanced,
and Scriptures are again vindicated, for the last have become
first. This trip up the bay could not have been more pleasant,
though our boat had been a stock transport, and still bore un
mistakable traces of the stable. As we passed the mouth of the
Potomac, it became evident that Washington was not our desti
nation. Having rations in abundance, with plenty of leisure,
there was nothing to prevent the soldiers having a good time.
Many letters were written, and it was not an infrequent sight
to see a score of lines trailing along behind the boat. To each
one there was attached at least one soldier's shirt ; we were not
fishing, though some, knowing well our entomological condition,
did suggest live bait for sharks. It was an opportunity to give
one's garments a good soaking and their denizens a pickling,
and we felt cleaner for the operation. Night shut down upon
us while we were steaming southward, and we gave ourselves
to dustless sleep. Early on the morning of the 8th of July, we
were docked somewhere, but no one seemed to know just the
place.

122 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The rising sun soon disclosed such an abundance of chimneys
and steeples that we were sure that Baltimore was the name,
and our impressions were soon confirmed. The docks are early
a scene of lively preparation for eating and departure. Soldiers
of an investigating nature make tours, more or less predatory,
in the neighborhood, and secure variations in the monotony of
army rations. Our stay here, however, is brief, for soon after
7 A. M. we are off in a westerly direction. Passing the Relay
House and keeping the main line of the Baltimore & Ohio rail
road, we are certain that Harper's Ferry is sought. Possibly
there could be no stronger contrast than that of the dust-cov
ered, war-devastated region which we had left in Virginia and
the verdant, fertile country through which the train was rapid
ly bearing us. Here were people at home and at work, a novel
sight to our eyes, and the flag of the Union was in evidence on
many a house and yard. Our train, made up of freight and
cattle cars, was not running at express rate, for danger lurked
near every southern and border road, so it was considerably
past noon when we drew up at Monocacy Junction, fifty-four
miles west of Baltimore. Though many alight to purchase food
of the hucksters, who have numerous tents here, the train soon
moves across the Monocacy river, and then, instead of keeping
the main track to Harper's Ferry, deflects to the right and
passes on to Frederick City, that famed place which Whittier
had already rendered immortal in his "Barbara Frietchie."
Though we were ahead of some parts of our division, we were
by no means the first to pass over this route. At 8 A. M. the
10th Vermont and the 14th New Jersey of the 1st Brigade had
gone on to Frederick, and had been doing their best to make
the enemy believe that a large force was opposing.
At this point a statement should be made as to just why we
were thus so far away from the Army of the Potomac. The
Lynchburg campaign of General Hunter had left open the
valley of the Shenandoah, and Lee was not slow to improve the
opportunity to replenish his stores from the granary of Vir
ginia after the familiar fashion of preceding years. Accord
ingly, Early with the old soldiers of "Stonewall Jackson" are
sent out to forage, pillage, and if possible to make a diversion
of Grant's forces before Petersburg, through an assault upou
Washington, for the vise-like hold of the new Union leader had
become extremely irksome to the Confederate commander and

MAJOR GENERAL LEW WALLACE,
Commanding at Monocacy.

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY. 123
his followers. That Lee had thus disposed of a part of his
force, the Union authorities could hardly be made to believe.
Numerous dispatches are in existence whereby President J. Wx.
Garrett of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad finally convinced
Halleck, Grant and Meade that some attention must be paid
to the Union rear; hence the sudden departure of the 3d Divi
sion on the 6th of July, and the later following to Washington
of the 1st and 2d Divisions.
We are all at sea, for no one appeared to really know
how many men were in Early's army, and there was only a
general knowledge as to his whereabouts. During a large part
of the war a considerable force was maintained at or near the
Junction. Colonel C. K. Thomas, about whose home the battle
of the 9th was fought, has said that he left Baltimore in '61
to be out of the whirl of war, but that for most of the time
between '62 and '65 there were encamped within sight of his
house from 2,000 to 15,000 troops. At this particular time there
were in the immediate vicinity the first separate brigade of the
8th Corps, under the command of Brigadier General Erastus
B. Tyler, and a small cavalry detachment under Lieutenant
Colonel David R. Clendenin of the 8th Illinois Cavalry. To
these was joined in the fight the 3d Division of the 6th Corps,
all except a part of the 2d Brigade, including the 6th Mary
land, the 67th Pennsylvania, and a portion of the 122d Ohio.
Colonel Horn of the 6th Maryland states in his report that it
was the breaking down of an engine on the transport that
caused the delay of this detachment. The Union forces were
under the command of General Lew Wallace.*

*Lewis Wallace, better known by the abbreviated "Lew," was born
in Franklin Co., Ind., April 10th, 1827, the son of David Wallace, a
graduate of West Point, and a very prominent office-holder in that
state. The younger Wallace, after receiving a common school educa
tion, was studying law when the Mexican War began, and, suspending
his studies, he went in as a first lieutenant. On his return, he resumed
his law study and was an attorney in Crawfordsville when the Rebel
lion began. He became adjutant general of the state, then went to
the front as colonel of the 11th Indiana Infantry, was promoted brig
adier general, Sept., 1869; he led a division at the capture of Fort
Donelson, and his bravery there secured a commission as major
general of volunteers early in 1862. He was at Shiloh, and the poet,
Wilson, in his "Old Sergeant" says,
"There was where Lew Wallace showed them he was of the canny kin."

124 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
During a considerable portion of the 8th, Colonel Harvey
and his men of the 10th Vermont, with those of the 14th New
Jersey, were doing their best to make a big showing west of
Frederick, for the purpose of impressing the presumably on-
looking rebs with the magnitude of the Union forces. To some
extent the tricks of Bannockburn were resorted to, and the re
sults were satisfactory, at least to the extent of keeping the
Confederates back till the remainder of the division arrived.
The hour was well along in the afternoon when our train
reached Frederick and marched through the streets of Dame
Barbara's city. Many an eye was cast right and left, wondering
whether a gleam of her flag might not be seen, but we had no
key to the situation nor directory of the city, though we did
remark the plentiful display of colors.
"Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down and saw not one."
Merely advancing the time to afternoon and eve, the fore
going description applies to our observations, though the even
ing part was told by our men captured on the skirmish line,
but there was no woman left in the city to take up the flag "the
men hauled down." The body of Barbara Frietchie, only four
years short of a century old, for nearly two years had been
lying in the Lutheran cemetery of Frederick. Our three com
panies, A, B and C, march to the westward on the Hagerstown
pike, and filing to the left form in line in a field of corn whose
tassels reach to our chins. Captain Hyde of A Company com
mands the detachment. A line of pickets is thrown out, which
later largely falls into the hands of the enemy. The scene as we

He commanded in Cincinnati on the expected rebel attack in 1863,
and the next year brings him to Monocacy and its sacrifice. Later he
was of the board that tried the Conspirators, and also he presided at
the trial of Wirtz, the Andersonville fiend. Returning to civil life, he
has been governor of Utah and U. S. minister to Turkey. Possibly
it was this eastern residence that suggested his great story, Ben Hur,
whose wonderful popularity has given him a foremost place among
writers of fiction. That his military spirit is not dead we may gather
from the fact that he was an applicant for service at the beginning of
the Spanish War. In a letter to the writer, he mentions his recollec
tions of Monocacy and his appreciation of the services of the Ninth
in that battle. His home is still in Crawfords ville.

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY. 125
thus face the setting sun is indelibly impressed on many minds.
To the westward are the Catoctin mountains, only a few miles
beyond which, at Antietam, was fought the bloodiest single day's
battle of the entire war, nearly two years before. Up those very
steeps where now is seen the dust from rebel tread, in 1755 rode
Braddock to defeat and death. Our surroundings are fragrant
with history, but it is not that which chiefly concerns us now,
The men speedily learn that marauders have not recently dis
turbed this locality, so they dip freely into the toothsome con
tents of well-stored spring houses, in some cases leaving com
rades to carry their guns should the line fall back.
Darkness was upon us when we heard the order to retire, and
then began a march not so long as many we had taken, but very
trying on account of the hard road upon which we were called
to march. The soft and yielding highways of Virginia had
afforded no preparation for the macadamized pike upon which
we traveled, back through Frederick and towards Baltimore
till we had passed the Monocacy river, upon a great stone
bridge, which arched the stream most beautifully. A toll-gate
was evident as we passed through the parapets, and that poor
toll-taker must have grown weary of the stale remark, "We'll
pay you when we come back."*
Finally we file to our right, and in the darkness plod along
with sadly blistered feet and heavy eyelids. Apparently our
guide is not proficient in his knowledge of the way, for there
are many halts, not long enough for rest, but just sufficiently
frequent to be vexatious when we all wanted to camp. There
was a decided variation when a gun of the Baltimore Battery
accompanying us was tipped over and men of the Ninth had
to right it. It was long past midnight when in a drizzling rain
we got the welcome order to halt and in place rest. This we
did effectually until the east began to redden, when we fell
in and marched a short distance, coming out on elevated land
near the stopping-place of the train the day before.

*There are few if any finer specimens of bridge-making in America;
built in 1808, it is still as firm and beautiful as when erected. Here in
December, 1824, the citizens of Frederick met Lafayette, on his mem
orable tour, and escorted him to their city. Some may note the great
stone decanter or cruise on the eastern end, placed there probably to
indicate the plenty known to abound in Frederick county. The pass
ing events are to add to its history.

126 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The other companies of our battalions are here ; with a beau
tiful view of the land on which the day's fighting is to be done,
we take an early breakfast, in many cases enriched by the pre
ceding night's visits to Maryland dairies. How blissfully igno
rant we are of the coming conflict ! Farm-laborers are working
energetically to secure the crop of wheat which covers the
large field west of the Washington pike and south of the river.
Apparently the owner suspects trouble in this vicinity. We
can see that had we followed the road from Frederick down,
we might have reached our present station easily and quickly,
but the Confederates had made of that road "no thoroughfare."
In other words they held the road, having worked in at our
left while we were facing westward, and the wonder was that
all of us were not taken; there was reason enough for the
careful way in which our night's march was made. Two ex
tremely attractive young women are very much in evidence as
they flit from place to place, obviously in deep distress over
something. The last that we saw of them was their rapid cross
ing of the railroad bridge to the westward.
There is a big stone mill, Gambrill's, at our left, and a well-
shaded way leads up to the mansion of Colonel C. K. Thomas.
It is in the vicinity of 9 o'clock when we find ourselves in line
on the Georgetown pike, with the covered bridge at our right.
Between us and the wheat-field is a well-made mortised rail-
fence. We are directed to lift it up and lay it down, an order
we readily obeyed. Lieutenant Fish with his boys of Company
B are on the other side of the river guarding the bridge; be
yond them on the skirmish line, along with many of the 10th
Vermont and some others, is Captain A. S. Wood and his Com
pany M. Our regiment is well to the right of the line, and in
the earlier part of the day the fighting is largely at the left
of the 1st Brigade, in and about the premises of Colonel
Thomas. A wheat-field south of his home is a prominent theatre,
and it is an interesting sight to see shocks of wheat used as a
defense by our soldiers. Also the hedges and trees in the
Thomas yard are thoroughly utilized. Again and again the
rebel advances are repelled, but they eventually outreach and
completely flank our position.
In the meantime rations are brought to us as we lie under
the brow of the hill, as usual trying to burrow by means of
haversack utensils. The fact that we are under fire drove to

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY.

127

safe places in the rear the contingent that during active service
was chiefly in evidence when food was distributed, so that once
in regimental life the supply of luxuries like sugar and coffee
exceeded the demand, but later in the afternoon, when the rebs
swept down over our position, they licked our platters clean in
no time, and, it would seem, never lost their alignment for a
moment. They knew a good thing when they saw it. It is

MONOCACY BATTLEFIELD.

1 . Turnpike Bridge.
2. Wallace's Headquarters.
3. Gambrill's Mill.
4. Blockhouse.
5. Battery.

6. Col. Thomas' Home.
7. Olivet Cemetery.
8. Line ol Battle, the 8th.
9. Road to Harper's Ferry.
10. Hospital.

vivid in many minds to this day, the view of those stragglers
who, like Job's war-horse, sniffed the battle from afar, and
went without their rations. Way beyond our skirmish line,

128 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
quite near the city of Frederick, is Mount Olivet cemetery, and
in it lies the body of Francis Scott Key, who wrote "The Star
Spangled Banner," and we wonder whether the proximity of
stars and bars does not make his remains uneasy.
Major Burgess has moved along with his battalion towards
the left ; Alexander's Battery has gone in before we are ordered
to advance. The foe has found a ford in the Monocacy down
the stream, and is now making his way up the river's side. A
large field of standing corn confronts us just to the westward
of the wheat-field in which we had been lying, and we under
stand that the enemy is approaching under cover of the tas-
seled stalks. Before this, however, the turnpike bridge has
been fired by Lieutenant Fish's men, and the story is best told
by one of the company as follows:
"Colonel William H. Seward, Jr., received orders from Gen
eral Wallace about 9 A. M. to detach two companies from his
regiment for perilous duty. Colonel Seward immediately de
tached Company B by the following order (the line was resting
in place): 'Lieutenant Fish, order your company in line and
move it down to that bridge, and hold it at all hazard.'
The order was promptly executed. The company arranged
to stubbornly defend the passage of the bridge. The rebels
tried to dislodge the company by directing shells on the bridge,
which raked the structure with terrific force, but failed in their
design. 'Hold it at all hazard,' was the order. As the battle
raged furiously, the lines changed front, and from the situation
of the respective armies it became evident that the bridge must
be burned to prevent General Breckinridge, who was waiting
near Frederick City with two divisions, from crossing the
bridge and intersecting our rear. Members of the company
procured sheaves of wheat from a near-by field, and placed
them under the southeast corner of the roof of the bridge.
About 12.30 P. M. Lieutenant Fish received an order from
Colonel Seward to burn the bridge, which was promptly ex
ecuted. Privates Alven N. Sova, Samuel R. Mack, and Sergeant
Albert L. Smith participated in setting the fire, which wrapped
the roof in flames like magic. It was impossible to rejoin the
regiment at this time. The only escape was to the rear, but
Lieutenant Fish declined to move his company without orders.
About 2 P. M. a field-officer rode up and ordered Lieutenant
Fish to move his company to the rear immediately, which he

FREDERICK CITY.

Grave of Barbara Frietchie (Right). Graves or Francis Scott Key and Wipe.
Confederate Monument. Old Storehouse, Monocacy Junction.

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY. 129
did while being urged forward by rebel bullets. On intersect
ing the railroad it was found that Lieutenant R. E. Burton
and two privates were missing or taken prisoners. On cross
ing the railroad the situation seemed perilous, and to prevent
the further reduction of his ranks Lieutenant Fish gave this
unique order: 'Sergeant Stanford, put the bayonet through the
first damned man that attempts to leave the ranks.' On reach
ing the woods and filing to the right soon came out into an
open field, and were intersected by General Wallace on his
return from the stone bridge, where he had been to personally
give orders to Colonel Brown. On nearing the company the
general asked, 'What troops are these?' Lieutenant Fish re
plied, 'It is Company B of the 9th New York Heavy Artillery.'
General Wallace said, 'Lieutenant Fish, it is no fault of your
company nor the 9th New York Heavy Artillery regiment that
this battle has been lost.' Lieutenant Fish replied, 'General,
I trust not.' On starting to leave the company, General Wal
lace remarked, 'Lieutenant Fish, I certainly will remember you
in my report,' and rode away rapidly."
The other company to which special duty was assigned was
M, whose captain, Anson S. Wood, thus describes its perform
ance of duty :
"I was directed to take files enough from Company E (six
men, Lieutenant Freeoff) to make with my company my 100
men for picket duty, and an orderly from General Wallace's
staff was directed to show me where to go. I had no orders,
and no intimation was given me that we were in the presence
of the enemy.
"I crossed the bridge, and marched up the pike toward Fred
erick, anticipating a pleasant day on picket when suddenly a
rebel skirmish-line opened full upon us. I immediately ordered
my men to lie down, and went forward a short distance to
ascertain whether there were any of our troops near by. 1
soon discovered a Union captain, and learned from him that
he had some sort of a skirmish-line on the left of the pike look
ing toward Frederick, and that he outranked me. I told him
that I reported for orders and awaited his instructions. He
said he thought I had better move my men up and reinforce
his line. I did so, and within five minutes the captain and the
few men he had there disappeared from my sight and hearing
forever. The rebel skirmish-line was a few hundred yards in
9

130 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
our front, and we exchanged shots from time to time, but the
firing was very light. I had been upon the skirmish-line but
a short time when I received a visit from General Ricketts,
accompanied by two or three members of his staff. He in
quired of me who was in command of the line, and I stated to
him the disappearance of the captain to whom I had reported
for orders. He directed a soldier standing near to knock down
the fence so he could ride on the pike, directed me to stop the
firing, or advance the line, said he would send a field-officer
to take charge of the line, whereupon Captain Damon of the
general's staff pointed to a mounted officer a long distance in
the rear, and said: 'That is Colonel  , who is field-officer
of the day.' General Ricketts said, T will send him to you.'
Just at that moment the rebel skirmishers gave the general a
salute, and he turned and rode away. I immediately deployed
the larger number of my men to the east side of the pike; I
never saw the officer after that, never received any orders from
that time on from any source, but fought my part of the
battle untrammeled with orders from any source. Not long
after the general left, Lieutenant Parrish discovered
that an attempt was being made to flank us on the
extreme right, and I directed him to change our line
so as to prevent it. Some time prior to the commence
ment of the battle proper, the rebel skirmish-line was rein
forced by troops moving up from the direction of Frederick.
An advance was made on our line, and I ordered the men to
fall back to the line of the railroad. I think it was about this
time that Surgeon Chamberlain was captured at a farm-house
between the lines, but some distance to the left -of my line.
About this time Captain Parker of the 106th New York, with
one or two companies, moved forward on my left. My skir
mish-line in falling back to the railroad displayed about as good
soldierly qualities as the most strict disciplinarian could desire.
They maintained an excellent line, loading and firing rapidly,
keeping the rebel advance in check until they reached the cover
of the railroad cut. I recall particularly one soldier, a tall,
stern man, formerly a school-teacher in one of the western
counties of the state (I think his name was Mellon), who
stopped and fired each time with great deliberation and ex
cellent effect. After we reached the line of the railroad, a few
of the Maryland 100-day men made their appearance and helped

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY. 131
to hold our line. Just before the bridge was fired, a message
came to me that it was to be burned, that I was to hold my line
as long as possible, that if it became necessary to get out, I
could come on the railroad bridge or ford the river, and the
place where fordable was pointed out to me. I am unable to
state from where the message came, but I think it must have
come from General Wallace through one of his staff.
"From my position I had an excellent opportunity to witness
the main battle. If I had been fortunate enough to have a field-
glass, I could have taken it in in all its details. I held my
position; on the railroad till after our troops were driven from
the field, then recrossed the river, Lieutenant Parrish and a
part of the men taking to the water. I crossed with the bal
ance of the men under a severe fire, but fortunately without
loss. One man was killed fording the river with Lieutenant
Parrish. I do not recollect how many were killed and wounded
out of the hundred men I took up on the skirmish-line that
morning, but I think our loss was not so heavy as in the other
companies of the regiment. I was slightly wounded myself.
"I shall always think that no troops ever behaved better on
the field of battle than the handful of men who delayed for
one day Jubal Early and his Confederate forces on their way
to capture Washington. After crossing the river my company
reformed in one of the rifle-pits, from which we were ordered
by General Ricketts himself on his retreat from the battle
field. I think my company was the only organization that
kept together. I know that from time to time other members
of the old regiments joined us, and I think ours was the first
regiment to recover and get into shape after the battle.
"Among other things I vividly remembered was seeing Colonel
Taft's black horse galloping riderless to the rear, and later on
Adjutant Pringle on his cream-colored steed following rapidly
in the same direction. That day and the night following tried
my physical endurance more severely than any other like period
of my army service. I never recall it without wondering how'
I ever could have endured it. It was the best and the hardest
day's work of my soldier's life. It was the last time I marched
on foot ; from that time on I was mounted."
It was well along in the afternoon when we, who had been
lying so long on the brow of the hill, were ordered in. We
were very near the river, only one regiment, the 110th Ohio, at

132 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
our right, intervening. Colonel Seward sat his horse as erect as a
centaur; Lieutenant Colonel Taft was also in his place and
mounted with Adjutant Pringle. Our alignment is excellent,
and the colors stream along as we advance over the space sepa
rating us from a standing field of corn. Here is another
strong fence whose rails afford us excellent rests for our guns
as we rapidly fire into the field through which the enemy is
making his way and firing as he comes. We are finding no
fault with our part of the game, and our Harper's Ferry
muskets are doing such execution that we think ourselves
able to hold the place indefinitely. But there is trouble
at the extreme left, where we are flanked. Soon the order comes
to fall back, which we obey slowly, keeping up a desultory
fusilade at the rebels, who climb our fence in a surprisingly
brief time after our leaving it. A halt is made near the point
where we had thrown down the fence. Lieutenant Harmon of
Company H unconsciously used the refrain of Root's Battle
Hymn as he exclaimed, "Rally round your flag, boys," for the
colors were there. Further along, towards the left, and under
the hill, Colonel Seward, who had been injured by his wounded
horse falling upon him, and who was supported by two men,
was directing an officer and guard to advance to a tree some
rods nearer to the enemy to secure Lieutenant Colonel Taft,
who was lying there wounded. This order Lieutenant Colvin
of Company H essayed to obey, but before the officer could be
reached, the rebel line had swept by, and the effort was futile.
Our lieutenant colonel thus wrote later of his injury: "I was
withdrawing from the field when a numbness seized my left
leg and I dropped to the ground." The rebels took his sabre,
revolver, watch, pencil and pen, though he had surrendered
to a general officer. He was afterwards carried to Frederick,
but it was not till September 10th that Lyons accorded him
a handsome welcome home, the Rev. L. W. Brown speaking for
the people, and Colonel A. D. Adams for the wounded officer.
By this time our own lines were thrown into great confusion.
The flank movement on the left had driven down towards
Gambrill's mill portions of the 1st Brigade, and our own 2d
was mingled with them. Colonel M. R. McClennan of the 138th
Pennsylvania was in temporary command of the 2d Brigade,
and possibly he was the officer who was shouting, "Elevate
your pieces, men; elevate your pieces;" this in regard to the

TO AND THROUGH MONOCACY. 133
advancing Confederates who, in great numbers, are bearing
down upon us. From some source comes the order to shift for
ourselves, and the Monocacy field is left behind us. One private
recalls hearing the color sergeant of the Ninth say, "I don't
see any use in staying here any longer," and said private
thought his record safe in that he left the field behind the
colors. Colonel Seward got away, riding on a bridleless mule,
which he directed by means of a silk handkerchief inserted in
his mouth. The day has ended disastrously, so far as we are
concerned, but for nine hours a handful of men has held Early's
thousands, thus permitting the remainder of our corps to reach
Washington and so prevent the consummation of the rebels'
audacious plan to capture the Capital.
One who was in the battle thus writes: "I pass a comrade
sitting by the roadside. Blood is trickling from a wound just
below his heart. I had carried his gun the night before, and
inow I say 'Good by' to him; there is no fear, no regret in his
tone as he replies. A brave country boy he had lived, and
death has no terrors for him. He could not have smiled more
sweetly had he been lying down to pleasant dreams. Hours
afterwards, I carry a canteen full of water to another comrade
lying on a pile of grain in the store-house by the railroad, and
he, too, had no complaints, no repinings. He said only, 'I have
my death wound,' and with the dew of youth yet fresh upon
him, with all the prospects of long life ended, he closed his
eyes in dreamless sleep. And so they died in the east and in
the west, the young and the old; on the field amidst the roar
of musketry and cannonading; in the hospitals, of wounds and
fever; on the lonely picket line; as scouts and videttes; and
who records any regrets? They deemed the cause worthy the
sacrifice. Eyes grow dim in many a Northern home
'For a singer dumb and gory,'
but he recked not; he was past all pain and sorrow. For him
there was burial near the place where he fell, and for the future
his name upon the nation's deathless roll."
At this moment, however, flushed with victory the enemy,
horse and foot, with seemingly an unending array of artillery,
presses hard upon our retreating lines. The falling back is not
undisputed, and the stubbornness of those covering the rear
rendered the escape of most of the men possible. There was a

134 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
short train at the station, upon which many took refuge, and
with it steamed away to safety, but to those who left the field
last there was not even Hobson's choice. There was nothing
for them but quick eyes and alert feet. They had a general no
tion that salvation lay in the direction of Baltimore, and thither
they directed their footsteps, in many cases interrupted by the
pursuing cavalry that seemed to be almost ubiquitous. If the
men knew enough to keep off the traveled ways, in the woods
and fields, they generally managed to escape the foe, but he
followed hard and fast, and captures were made when the sol
dier thought himself entirely out of the range of pursuers.
The records state that fifty-one men from the eight com
panies were killed or mortally wounded this day, among them
Lieutenant James H. Ellis of Company E. He had enlisted in
Company D as a sergeant, and had been promoted to quarter
master sergeant of the regiment. Thence he went as 2d lieu
tenant to Company E. He was born in Lyons April 1st, 1843;
was reared there; served from 1859 to enlistment, in R. H.
Murdock's store as clerk; was a member of Grace Church and
Sunday-school; his death occasioned widespread grief in his
native village.
The official dispatches and reports concerning this day's work
are worthy of insertion complete, but only an abstract can be
given. It is to be regretted that our commanding officers were
not more explicit. Dispatches on record in Washington show
that had they (the dispatches) been received earlier, our regi
ment had had no part in the Monocacy fight. Fortunately for
our military reputation, we were in the battle before they were
sent. The truth of the whole matter was that all Washington
was badly scared, and with justice; only the timely arrival of
the 1st and 2d Divisions of the 6th Corps saved the city from
pillage and conflagration, and it was our heading off Early at
Monocacy that permitted such result. Early himself in 1888
told the writer that the sight of the Greek cross on the works
north of Washington was what induced his retreat. "D-
that 6th Corps," said a Confederate officer in front of the Cap
ital, "we find it everywhere."
For those who were taken prisoners a special chapter will
be given. Now we must follow the fortunes of the two battal
ions, to whose members the day at Monocacy was memorable.

RETREAT AND PURSUIT. 135
CHAPTER XV.
Retreat and Pursuit.
The turnpike from Frederick to Baltimore is as straight and
as hard as the hand of man can make it. Those who had a good
start found the road a convenient one to follow towards Balti
more. Those who could, marched all night, and at some hour
of the 10th reached Ellicott City, passing on their way St.
Charles College, named for Charles Carroll of Carrollton, the
last survivor of the signers of the Declaration, whose gener
osity had endowed this institution, one of the famous Roman
Catholic enterprises of the state; but our boys are more inter
ested in food and raiment than in mind and religion, and did
not improve the opportunity to "go through college," though
they did remark its appearance as they marched by.
Tbe men were badly scattered; the largest number that any
one company could muster was thirty-one, officers and men.
Here something like organization was had; camp was pitched
and pickets thrown out.
The 11th of July saw the regiment en route for Baltimore by
way of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad, a more agreeable form
of locomotion than that recently practiced. Twelve men of
Company M were left at the Relay House to serve the big guns
there in case of need, and Maryland's chief city is reached
at about 10 A. M. by some of the regiment, though others did
not leave Ellicott City till nearly night. The 12th was spent in
camp, and the rest thus secured was decidedly grateful to the
weary men, though it is recorded that some of the soldiers
were not too tired to break open certain bales of soldiers' cloth
ing and so help themselves. The law that heaven helps those
who help themselves seems to have been firmly planted in
the minds of all soldiers, both North and South. As many had
not yet reported, rations went begging, and on moving camp
the "boys" gave to a needy woman two-thirds of a barrel of
pork, a larger supply than she had ever possessed at any one
time before.
On the 13th camp was changed to Washington park, near the
edge of the city, having to travel about one mile to reach it.
Hard by is the estate of Mr. Kirby, a lumber merchant, also

136 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
a small fort without guards, though some other troops are
camped near. (
By the 14th the Ninth was ready for another advance, and
after marching to Druid hill, the men moved to Washington
station, and thence by rail rode to the Capital. In leaving
Baltimore, one company so won the good opinion of a Mr.
Quirk that he gave to each man a head of cabbage, but as if
to compensate for this good fortune, they had to march full five
miles, one mile directly away from the station. The crowning
motive in most of the marching and countermarching of the
war the unprofessional mind has never been able to compre
hend. The sight of a company of men, each bearing a cabbage,
must have been an inspiring one, and though there is no record
of the epithet "Cabbage-head" being hurled at these battle-
proved soldiers, it must be acknowledged that the provocation
was great. Sundown sees the boys in Washington, and en
camped at or near Soldiers' Rest.
The march on the 15th began before breakfast, and termi
nated at Tennallytown, where orders were received to report to
Major Snyder at Fort Reno, but somehow this conflicted with
General Ricketts' notions, and the two battalions moved on,
leaving the other in the fort which it had helped defend dur
ing Early's raid. While here President Lincoln drove out to
our camp to congratulate the troops on their stubborn resist
ance at Monocacy. His carriage stopped in the midst of our
regiment and the boys gathered about him in great crowds.
A tall stripling of a lad of Company D crowded his way to the
carriage, and, handing the president the eagle-plate from his
cartridge-box straps, with a Confederate bullet sticking fast
in its centre, said, "See, Mr. Lincoln, this saved my life at
Monocacy; the force of the bullet knocked me down." The
president took the relic in his hand, looked it over carefully,
and after commenting on the fortunate escape of the soldier
with the man who sat beside him — a member of his Cabinet,
probably Seward — he handed it back to the soldier, saying,
"Young man, keep that for your children and grand-children,
for future generations will prize that as the greatest heirloom
you could possibly leave them."
The pursuit of the raiders, too long delayed, was now begun,
and we passed on after them, crossing the Potomac at or near
Edward's Ferry. As there were no laws against such proceed-

RETREAT AND PURSUIT. 137
ings many of the men cross en dishabille, carrying their cloth
ing on heads or shoulders. Nothing but laughter greets the
unfortunate soldiers who step on slimy rocks and receive in
voluntary immersion. The water was about three feet deep,
and the current strong. Camping near by, excellent facilities
are found for securing food in the way of sheep and hogs from
neighboring farmers, always supposed to be disloyal, and in
the discussion of dainties thus secured the end of the 16th day
arrives. Next day the march was resumed, and was continued through
Leesburg about four miles. Government rations falling short,
there was all the more need of replenishment from neighboring
sources, and the regiment began taking lessons in self-help, a
principle well ingrained before the end of the season's cam
paign. On the 18th the march is resumed, extending through
Hamilton, Snickersville and Snicker's Gap to the Shenandoah
river. It was our first view of the stream so redolent of Ameri
can history, and with whose name that of the 6th Corps
through the events of the coming months was to be inextrica
bly blended. A division of our forces, 8th Corps, had crossed
the river, but had been driven back by the enemy, some of our
soldiers having drowned, so said, in the recrossing. We were
under fire for a time, and a few of the regiment wounded.
Business begins early the 19th, for it is 3 A. M. when the camp
is roused, rations drawn, and preparations made for breakfast.
The latter is not fully ready when orders come to pack up,
but we lie here all day, finding the berries on the mountain-side
unusually good.
At 10 A. M. the 20th, we get away and wade the Shenandoah
at Snicker's ford through thirty inches of water, and two or
three miles beyond halt. Hungry soldiers — they were always
so — soon gather in sheep, hogs and bacon; what purveyors!
A resident farmer says the two armies have destroyed 6,000
sheep for him. If alive at the end of the century, one might
wonder what he thinks of the protection of wool industries.
The 21st saw a falling back on our part, and we recrossed the
river at about 11 P. M., Company B guarding the wagon-train.
Guerrillas were troublesome, and some stragglers are captured
by them. It is an all night's march, and before we camp we have
passed through Leesburg, crossed Goose creek, near which on
the 22d we bivouac ; our distance from Washington being esti-

138 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
mated from eight to twelve miles. This retiring upon Wash
ington was made on the supposition that Early had returned
to Lee's army, and our 6th Corps with the 19th was to rejoin
Grant as quickly as possible, expecting to take waiting trans
ports in Washington. It has been claimed that in the preced
ing thirty days we had traveled 600 miles.
The 23d finds the Ninth once more in the District of Colum
bia. Having left camp in the morning, we pass down by the side
of Fort Marcy, cross the chain bridge and late in the afternoon
camp between Tennallytown and Washington, being again on
familiar ground. The 24th is Sunday, and it is a memorable
day in that the regiment gets fully two bushels of back mail,
for in our peregrinations there had been no effort made to fol
low us. All sorts of rumors are afloat as to our future. We
learn that the 1st Vermont, the 2d Connecticut and the
9th New York, all heavy artillery regiments, are to remain
permanently in the defenses, thus replacing us in the 22d Corps.
Severely blistered feet make this grateful intelligence to many,
but the sequel showed it to be mere idle vaporings. Grant had
other and better use for these disciplined, well-drilled veter
ans than to leave them idling away their enlistment behind
those green sodded earthworks; besides, there were officers in
the various commands who could see no laurel-getting in such
humdrum living. At the present moment, however, we are
interested in a Palmyra (Wayne county) visitor, who goes
through at least one company distributing Testaments, writ
ing-paper and envelopes, and he also preaches.
As if to confirm the rumors of the day before, the 25th finds
the boys in motion, going back to the Virginia side of the Poto
mac, where some of the companies repose at the very forts
which they left for the front two months before. As moves on
the chess-board, the occupants of the forts in some cases de
parted, and we entered, but it was a very brief halt, though we
did have the sensation of sleeping under a roof once more,
though only that of army barracks. Six days' rations were
distributed the next morning, which did not have a particular
ly permanent bearing, and before they could be cooked our
dream of rest was dispelled by orders to pack up and march
away. It is not a forced march, for night finds us in the streets
of Georgetown, where we get such rest as the gutters and side
walks afford. From such entertainment it is no hardship to

RETREAT AND PURSUIT. 139
tear ourselves at dawn of the 27th and go under our burdens,
marching to the northward through the village of Rockville,
between which and Clarksburg we encamp. We later learn
that if Early had ever intended going back to Petersburg, he
had changed his mind, and his obvious northern tendency was
the cause of our present tribulations.
If this portion of "Maryland, my Maryland," is not well
known to members of the 9th New York Heavy Artillery,
it is not the fault of those who direct our footsteps. We start
at daylight of the 28th, and put a goodly distance between our
selves and our camping-place before we halt for breakfast near
Clarksburg. Thence we pass through Hyattstown and Urbana
to our battle-field of Monocacy; unconsciously we have taken
in reverse the very course pursued by our comrades captured
here, who after the fight, as prisoners had accompanied the
Johnnies in their march to the head of Seventh street, Washing
ton. We linger long enough on the field to recall impressions of
that brisk little engagement, and then we pass on to the moun
tains northward, going round the city of Frederick. No one
will ever know just why we make this circuit, for we come back
to the Harper's Ferry turnpike, along which we march, or a
very small portion of the regiment, for the greater part straggle,
leaving only a fraction to go into camp at Jefferson. A short
cut across the country would have saved miles of travel and
hundreds of blisters, but we should not have seen so much of
the locality that Whittier said was —
"Fair as the garden of the Lord,
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde."
Twinges of pain all along the soles of our feet render us
somewhat oblivious to the beauty of our surroundings, and
those who had fallen out were chiefly intent on catching up.
It is hardly a fragment that for some inexplicable cause is
hurrying along at this breakneck pace. From Jefferson on the
29th we bear off to the northward, passing through Petersville,
and the next day we march through Harper's Ferry and on to
Halltown, four miles or so. We have marched more than
seventy-five miles from Washington in considerably less than
three days. The next day, the 30th, we turn about and retrace
our steps to the Potomac, crossing the same upon a pontoon
bridge. All this reads easily enough, but no pen can do justice

140 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
to the heat that poured down upon the men who waited in that
narrow gorge on the Shenandoah side for their turn at the
crossing. If we only could have looked up the scenes of John
Brown's raid, when twenty negroes, five white men and a cow
had thrown Virginia into paroxysms, we might have waited
to a purpose, but it was too hot and explorations were under
ban. Long, long hours were thus spent, and it was not till
past midnight that some of ours took their swaying way over
the floating bridge, passed on through Sandy Hook, and all the
rest of the night pushed along towards the north.
The last day of July, 1864, was signalized by a march un-
equaled even by that made by the 6th Corps when it hastened
towards Gettysburg. No rain had fallen in weeks, hence the
dust was everywhere. The mercury danced in the higher 90
degrees, even in the shade, and in the sunlight it nearly boiled.
No wonder that man and beast suffered indescribably. The
fallen horse was left to rise again, if he could, only to be seized
by a frolicsome drummer or bummer and ridden till he fell
again. Nearly a hundred men are said to have suffered from
sunstroke on this forced march to head off Early, who had
really turned north and was paying his attentions to Chambers
burg* and neighboring towns. General Wright was besought
to moderate his pace, but his reply was, "My orders are to reach
Frederick at 2 P. M., and I shall do it if I go alone." Just five
minutes in each hour were given for rest, and this under the
pitiless sun. Again the corps must stand between the enemy
and Washington.
August entered with the 6th Corps having as near a rest as
these men of swift feet, later to be called Sheridan's foot cav
alry, ever had. They are in camp, though a portion of the
Ninth is on picket. Lest inactivity might stiffen the joints of
our men, we take a morning march on the 2d and, having raided
a flour mill, ford the Monocacy, and again go into camp. On
the following day as if to compensate the miller for his loss of
flour, the cavalry and artillery pay him extra for his hay. Dur
ing the 4th there is actual rest with the added pleasure of a
full complement of rations, through all of which wearied nature
quickly rallies, and has energy enough to parade through the
?Burned on the 30th by McCausland, who told a local clergyman that
he was from hell, a statement that the minister had no disposition to
dispute.

RETREAT AND PURSUIT. 141
camp a lad of acquisitive tendencies bearing on his person the
label "Thief."
At no time in the regiment's experience were the conven
iences for bathing better than those afforded by the clear
waters of the Monocacy. What delicious memories of incom
parable swimming! If a man couldn't swim, he had ample op
portunity to paddle. These aqueous privileges did as much
as their rations towards renewing the strength and energy of
the wearied men.
The rising sun of the 6th beheld the tents down and all in
readiness to march, but delays follow. There is nothing to do
but lie in the hot sun and grumble. Some suspend their can
vas as awnings and thus get some relief. In this way the day
passes, and after dark we pack up and move to Monocacy Junc
tion, where we use our knapsacks for pillows till morning.
The next day, the 6th, we vary the monotony of our marching
by a car-ride to Harper's Ferry, through which we march and,
two miles away, camp. On account of our regular visits to
this place, some of the Vermont vets dubbed the 6th Corps
"Harper's Weekly." Till the 10th the time is spent in camp
getting ready for the approaching campaign, of which, however,
we know nothing. Few if any were aware that General Grant
had had an interview with Sheridan on the 6th in an upper
chamber of Colonel C. K. Thomas's house at Monocacy Junc
tion while we were embarking, and that then was outlined the
campaign to end only when Early was sent "whirling up the
valley." Hunter was relieved of his command of the Army of the
Shenandoah ; the Middle Military Division was constituted with
General Philip H. Sheridan in command, whose headquarters,
though he never said so, were always in the saddle. Grant was
determined that henceforth there should be no open door in his
rear, and that the granary of Virginia or the Shenandoah
valley should no longer yield its plenty to aid and comfort the
enemy. After the protracted experience, beginning July 9th
at Monocacy, these days of rest were particularly grateful.
During this time, orders were promulgated as to the discipline
to be observed on the approaching march. Court-martial
awaited him who straggled or left the ranks without permis
sion, for we were to pass through a section alive with guerrillas
and bushwhackers. We were to march one hour before break-

142 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
fast, to have one hour for that meal, and to rest ten minutes
after each hour's march. An hour was given for dinner, and
we were to have supper at dark. Officers were to see that can
teens were filled at halts.

CHAPTER XVI.
The Valley and Winchester.
The 10th of August beheld the advance begun and we march
through Charlestown, where December 2d, 1859, was presented
the final scene in the John Brown tragedy, whose first act was
at Harper's Ferry, the 16th of the preceding October ; a tragedy
whose sequel was the war in whose fourth year we are march
ing and fighting. Here the old hero was confined, tried, and
hanged, and Judge Parker, who presided at the trial, is a resi
dent, to survive the war many years. We can see the court
house, the jail, though in ruins, and, in the distance, the field
where was erected the gallows from whose crosstree, less than
five years before, on that December day, hung the incarnation
of hatred of slavery. Thousands sang "John Brown's Body,"
and it is claimed that no Northern soldiers ever marched
through the place without giving the citizens the full benefit
of their musical qualities in the John Brown line, nor forget
ting to state their intentions to hang Jeff. Davis to a sour apple-
tree. We, however, have no time for moralizing, though farmers in
our ranks could not help noting the beauty and fertility of the
region — a limestone country, and clear, cold water, hard of
course, but central New Yorkers are used to that. Early apples
are prime, and green corn excellent. Southdown mutton, hogs
and poultry betokened good farmers whose fields were glad
with grain and fruit — a fair picture for soldiers to view, but
too often clouded with the results of war. Our first camp is
pitched at 5 P. M.
The sun of the 11th is not up earlier than we, and we zigzag,
between railroad and river, till we strike the Winchester and
Berryville turnpike west of the latter place. Much of our way
is through fields and lanes, shaded with oak, locust, sassafras
and wild cherry, a condition coming as near poetry as war ever

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER. 143
gets. Our camping-place is eight miles from Newtown, near
Clifton. The 12th carries us through Newtown and Middle-
town to Cedar creek, on whose banks we camp, quite unsuspect
ing the history to be written here in blood a few weeks later.
The enemy is not far away, and a sharp skirmish ensues be
tween the foe and some of the 8th Corps, who have been thrown
across to discover if possible the situation. On the 13th all
cross the creek and move southward to the vicinity of Stras
burg, where Early was strongly placed on Fisher's hill. Deem
ing discretion the better part of valor, we face about and, re
turning, recross Cedar creek, and go into camp. On the march,
corn and pork are early secured, and the laugh is on one party
of investigators, who from a mill carry away a quantity of un
slaked lime, mistaking it for wheat-flour.
For three days the regiment camps. The grounds are policed
and tents pitched. The neighboring country richly supplements
army rations, for green corn, apples and all kinds of meat may
be had by very little exertion. Wheat-flour can be secured
from a mill near by, and the new luxury of honey is brought
into camp in great quantities, for the bees of the valley appear
to be very numerous and more than proverbially busy. Sol
diers of inquisitive or scientific disposition — the terms are near
ly synonymous — have much satisfaction in exploring a large
cave near Cedar creek, a curiosity by no means rare in this lime
stone region.
But we are not here merely for a summer outing, and in the
evening of the 16th* we pack up and retrace our steps towards
Winchester, along that
"Good, broad highway leading down,"
whose every inch we were fated to know ere the snows of
winter settled its dust. It is an all-night march, and the sun
is an hour high before we halt for breakfast. That finished,
we proceed, passing through Winchester and out on the Berry
ville pike about four miles, crossing the Opequon creek and
camp. Middletown is twelve or more miles from Winchester on the

*On this day a brisk cavalry engagement was fought at Cedarville on
the Front Royal pike between General Merritt and Fitz Lee, and though
ending successfully for the Union side, it may have caused Sheridan's
withdrawal, he preferring to choose his own battlefield.

144

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

i"-"" ROCK? ISH

THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY.

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER. 145
main turnpike, and from it a road leads up the Luray valley, since
the projection of the Massanuttan mountain here divides the
Shenandoah valley into two divisions. Front Royal lies further
to the east and at the entrance to the Luray. Its location
made Middletown a place of unusual importance. Through
the Luray valley were approaching Fitz Lee and Kershaw with
two divisions just from Petersburg. Moseby was active near
Berryville, hence the necessity of the reverse movement. The
valley that we were to know so well extended from Harper's
Ferry to Staunton, a distance of more than 120 miles. With
the former place or Martinsburg, twenty miles further west
and even more remote from Winchester as the base of supplies,
any one can see that Sheridan's great problem was to keep
communications open. The section was terribly hostile, hence
the necessity of making the long halts near the foot of the
valley, or in proximity to our base.
Rapid cannon and musket firing in the direction of Winches
ter indicates that the enemy has kept Dear us. The Jersey
brigade, 1st Division, with some cavalry had faced about just
to see who are following. The vigor of the enemy's attack soon
imparted all the knowledge necessary, and in considerable dis
array they continue their retreat. On the 18th we march to
Berryville, and then return to our late camping-place, prepare
and eat our dinners and then march to the vicinity of Charles
town, camping at or near midnight. The 19th finds us in camp
and guarding the turnpike leading from Harper's Ferry to
Winchester. Our location is delightful, with most excellent
springs, and near by is the extensive farm of a Mr. Davenport,
who had some fame as an importer of Alpaca sheep.
All quiet till Sunday, about 10 A. M., when as the men were
preparing for inspection, without any warning hostile shells
were pitched into the camp, and the whistling of bullets called
the soldiers into line. It appeared that Early wanted to find
out just where we were, and so stirred up the Vermont brigade
of the 2d Division; by the way, a most excellent source of in
formation, and the manner in which he retired from the pres
ence of those Green Mountain boys indicated that his lesson
in geography was well learned. The fight was known as the
Battle of Charlestown. As for the Ninth, we were repeatedly
in line, but as usual there didn't appear to be any place just
fitted for us, so there was no end of marching by front and
10

146 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
flank, right and left facing, battle-line and all sorts of places,
and finally we settled down to our old occupation of building
breastworks. Here we were quite at home, but again as usual,
just as we had them nearly completed, about midnight, we left
them and passed rapidly to Bolivar Heights near Harper's
Ferry. Old friends in the 8th New York Cavalry are greeted
as the regiment passes us.
From the 22d to the 28th of August, we are encamped with
only the variation of change of position to right or left, picket
experience, and such interest as comes from the knowledge that
the enemy is near us. He had dogged our footsteps, but we
were accomplishing our mission, viz., keeping him from further
northern raids. Cavalry skirmishes and frequent cannonading
prevent any great degree of camp ennui, and ingenuity in the
cooking line maintains the physical man in good form.
In this period the Confederates had made their last effort to
cross the Potomac. It was at Williamsport, but the immediate
presence of Custer and his men prevented, and Early fell back,
duly followed by Sheridan and his army.
At 8 A. M. on the 28th we once more advance slowly south
ward, passing through Charlestown in the afternoon, and again
encamp near the Davenport place. Lieutenant Freeoff, in com
mand of Company M, in a letter home August 29th, says the
two battalions of the Ninth in the field number but 214 men;
M, the largest, has fifty-three; C, the smallest, just sixteen.
He says the bodies of our dead are invariably robbed, in one
case to the very last stitch of clothing. Artillery firing near
Berryville September 3d attests the near presence of the enemy;
we subsequently learn that Kershaw's division, under orders to
return to Petersburg, and quite ignorant of our presence, had,
in the language of Sheridan, "blundered" into Crook's lines. As
the rebels had no desire to stay, it didn't take them long to get
away. In this locality the army remains three weeks, a long halt for
us; yet possibly we accomplish just what we were set to do. Of
course every regiment and company have their particular inci
dents, but few of them were bloody. Camp-sites were changed oc
casionally, and we were conversant with the country from Smith-
field to Berryville. We guard wagon-trains, pick blackberries
and raspberries, with which the fields abound, read the papers,
build breastworks, draw rations, have inspections, dress-parade,

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER. 147
and even get back to an old-fashioned drill. Our quiet, how
ever, is only the lull before the storm. The most noteworthy
event of this interval to us was the joining us, on the 16th,
of our regimental band with Company Q,* which had been
having a good time in the defenses, though on this very day
General Grant was having an interview with Sheridan in
Charlestown, whose results we were soon to experience. Grant
had drawn up a scheme of offense, but he was so well satisfied
with Sheridan's fully formed plans that he left him with the
single injunction, "Go in." However, with plans, men who
carried guns had very little to do. They were intrusted, how
ever, with their execution. All the minutiae of camp life are
maintained for the following two days.
We start away at 2 A. M. on the 19th, destined to be a mem
orable day in our lives and in the annals of the nation. In
guarded manner we march southward, and before daylight are
at the crossing of Opequon creek, from which some name the
battle, though it is better known as Sheridan's Battle of Win
chester. In guarded manner, with Company B flanking, we
march westward, reaching the Opequon creek before daylight
and here pass the head of the 19th Corps. The Berryville pike
ran through a deep gorge, and on this the artillery and wagons
proceeded, while the infantry marched in two columns, one on
each side of the road. It had been Sheridan's design to attack
Early's right, and if possible pass to his rear while our cavalry
were holding the attention of his left, hoping to thus effect his
entire destruction, but delays had admitted of the union of his
divisions and we were to assail his entire force.
It should be stated that the day before, in accordance with
his chronic disposition to destroy railroads, Early had sent
Gordon towards Martinsburg, which, coming to the notice of
Sheridan, the latter was quick to recognize as his opportunity
to attack the enemy in detail, and his orders were given accord
ingly, but in the telegraph office of Martinsburg, Early had
learned of the recent visit of Grant to Sheridan, and at once
suspecting that action would follow such an interview, he pro
ceeded to reunite his divided army, or to get its parts within
supporting distance of each other.

*By common consent a name given to the many men who linger in
hospitals and camps ever ready with reasons why they should not do
regular duty.

148

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

From Chaplain Hayne's "10th Vermont." WINCHESTER BATTLEFIELD.

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER. 149
The battle had begun at 5 o'clock by Wilson's Cavalry driv
ing the enemy's pickets to their first line of defense, and actu
ally leaping their horses over the works, they captured fifty or
more of the foe. Melancholy interest is added to the advance
of our corps as we meet wounded men in varying conditions
of injury; sometimes they are leading wounded horses; here
may lie one receiving the care of comrades, and many, stretched
out in death, effectually answered Joe Hooker's bantering
question, "Whoever saw a dead cavalryman?" Sheridan him
self, well-nigh ubiquitous, assists in the alignment. The 2d
Division of the 6th Corps holds the left of the line, and our 3d
is next, with the 1st in reserve back of us. Had the 19th Corps
been ready to continue our line to the right, according to Sheri
dan's plans, who can tell how much more effectual the day's
work might have been, but there is a delay of more than two
hours, occasioned, it is said, by an ammunition train, before
the corps is with us. Wilson and his cavalry are looking out
for our extreme left. Crook, with his 8th Corps, Averili and
Merritt with their cavalry are in reserve, but in time they will
give an account of themselves on the extreme right.
Tt was about 9 o'clock when our corps took its place, and we
have waited long. The 2d Brigade, under General J. Warren
Keifer, is at the right of the division, and is wholly north of
the Berryville pike. It is nearly noon when the 19th Corps
moves up and Grover's 2d Division touches our right. Among
his regiment is the 75th New York, containing hundreds of our
school-mates and relatives, many of whom this day's work will
consign, with our immediate comrades, to graves in the Na
tional Cemetery, at a later date to be planted on this very road,
between us and the city. The Opequon is fully a mile back
of us, while Winchester is in plain view in front. The inter
vening land is generally open, with some pieces of woods with
cornfields and meadows with occasional houses, but numerous
ravines render it a hard surface on which to maintain align
ment. Till nearly 12 o'clock, the fighting was confined to the skir
mishers. Then, came the order to advance. Rodes and Ram-
seur command the enemy in our immediate front, and on their
left Gordon faces Grover. No earthworks have been thrown up
on either side, so it is a fair stand-up fight with no favors, but
it is a terrible ordeal through which we are compelled to pass,
one to appall the stoutest heart.

150 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The Ninth is in the second line, having the 122d and 110th
Ohio, in that order, at our right, thus bringing us quite near
to the pike, so often mentioned, which had been pointed
out as the guide for our advance. This road had a southerly
trend soon after our starting that must have been overlooked
by those giving it as a line of direction. At any rate, adherence
to this order soon caused a divergence of the respective courses
of the two corps, and General Keifer in his report thus states :
As the lines advanced the interval became greater. The
enemy discovering this fact hurled a large body of men towards
the interval and threatened to take my right in flank. I at
once caused the 138th and 67th Pennsylvania and the 110th
Ohio to break their connection with the right of the remainder
of my brigade, and to move towards the advancing column of
the enemy. These three regiments most gallantly met the
overwhelming masses of the enemy and held them in check.
The 19th Corps soon came up and encountered a very heavy
force of the enemy in a wood to the right of the three regiments
named. As soon as the 19th Corps engaged the enemy, the
force in my front commenced slowly retiring. I pushed for
ward the three regiments until we came upon two batteries
(eight guns), silencing them and compelling the enemy to
abandon them. The three regiments had arrived within less
than 200 yards of the two batteries when the 19th Corps, after
a most gallant resistance, gave way. The enemy at once came
upon my right flank in great force. Successful resistance was
no longer possible; the three regiments had already suffered
heavily, and were obliged to fall back in some disorder. The
enemy regained a portion of the ground from which they had
been driven. In falling back we lost no prisoners. The broken
troops of my brigade were halted and reformed in a wood
behind the reserve, which had come forward to fill up the in
terval. As soon as they were reformed they were moved for
ward again over the same ground they had advanced the first
time. While moving this portion of my brigade forward, I re
ceived an order from General Ricketts, commanding the divi
sion, to again unite my brigade near the centre of the corps and
to the right of the turnpike near a house. This order was obeyed
at once, and my whole brigade was formed in one line, imme
diately confronting the enemy. The four regiments of my
brigade that were upon the left kept connection with the 1st
Brigade, 3d Division, and fought desperately, in the main driv
ing the enemy. They also captured a considerable number of
prisoners in their first advance. Heavy firing was kept up
along the whole line till about 4 P. M., when a general advance
took place. The enemy gave way before the impetuosity of our
troops and soon were completely routed. This brigade pressed

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER., 151
with the advanced line to and into the streets of Winchester.
The rout of the enemy was everywhere complete. Night came
on, and the pursuit of the enemy was stopped. The troops of
my brigade encamped with the corps on the Strasburg and
Front Royal roads south of Winchester.
The divergence of the two corps on account of the trend of
the Berryville pike came near proving a fatal mishap to our
cause. Indeed, General Early fancied that he had won a vic
tory, and so proclaimed, but he little realized the resources of
the Union army. Not only had Ricketts made the sudden turn
of his men, but when the enemy came sweeping in upon the
19th Corps, expecting to prove a veritable wedge, driven
through the Federal lines, General Russell, with his 1st Divi
sion, till then in reserve, was ready to attack the rebels in
flank and to turn upon them the fire of his batteries. The
triumph of the foe was short, for he was driven back with
terrible loss, but we paid dearly for our victory, since here fell
General Russell,* of whom Sheridan said, "I have lost my cap
tain." Coming back to our own regiment, as we pass through the
woods in our front, we encounter the fire of the batteries, noted
by General Keifer, and it was thus early in the day that we
met our severest losses. Here it was, while passing through
a field on the Dinkle farm, that a single volley killed Myron
Fish, Samuel Myers and Charles Thomas of Company B. Young
Fish had just said to his nearest neighbor, Vernon R. Howell,
"Gosh! Vern, they are coming thick," when his head was
pierced by a bullet, and he fell dead. Four others were mortally
wounded, and the day's losses for the company footed up eleven
others wounded, including Lieutenant Fish himself. On the
way to the encounter, in the early morn, he had been oppressed
with forebodings of ill, and he had asked the 1st sergeant, James
H. Thatcher, to look after the company accounts if anything
should happen to him, for he was in command of the company,
but it was the son, not the father, who was to be called. Though

•David A. Russell was born in Salem, N. Y., Dec. 10, 1820; .West
Point, 1845; classmate of "Baldy" Smith, Fitz John Porter, Gordon
Granger, and others ; won distinction in the Mexican war ; was a captain
in the 4th Infantry when the Rebellion began; served in the defenses
till he became colonel of the 7th Massachusetts Infantry; was repeat
edly promoted for bravery, and his gallant death made him brevet
major general, U. S. A.

152 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
severely wounded the lieutenant refused to leave the field. His
company numbered forty-two at the beginning of the day. Lan
guage is inadequate to express the regret of every survivor of
the Ninth Heavy that Major Burgess did not describe in detail
the part borne by his command in this great battle. His report
simply states what every one knows, viz., that the regiment
was in the engagement.
As already noted, the divergence of the lines interrupted an
otherwise unbroken advance, and the repulse of the 3d Divi
sion compelled a falling back and a reformation. In one of
the ravines, with which the surface abounded, our regiment
sought shelter, reformed and awaited orders. When the same
came to again advance, to the minds of those present, the air
seemed almost solid with lead and iron, and the disposition to
respond was not tumultuous; but Color Sergeant John Her
mann, rising, and turning to the color-guard, remarked to
James Marvin by his side, "Will you go with me, Jim?" The
latter was ready, and these two moving forward were speedily
followed by all the rest, and they had their part in the advance
that scarcely halted till they had passed through Winchester.
There are those who recall the bravery of a mother and
daughter who stood in their doorway refusing to fly or hide,
and when pressed for a reason, said they were safer there than
elsewhere, for no one would fire at them if seen, but if hidden
they might be shot by accident. Whether their reasoning was
good or not, they escaped unharmed.
Fox in his book of regimental losses makes that of our regi
ment, eight companies, at this battle as twenty-two, not so
great as in other encounters, still carrying unending grief into
many Northern homes. The death of General Robert E. Rodes*
of Early's army in the fierce charge against Ricketts and
Grover might be considered as an offset to that of General
Russell of our forces at the same time.
The superb generalship of Sheridan was evident in the man
ner in which the finishing stroke was given to bis victory.
As before stated, Crook's 8th Corps had been held in reserve,

* Rodes was in command of the rebel right, and was one of the most
trusted officers of the Confederate army. Born in Lynchburg, March
29, 1829, he was educated at the Military School of Lexington, and had
been a teacher in the same. He entered the Confederate service as
the colonel of an Alabama regiment.

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER. 153
and Torbert, with all the cavalry on the right, had been sent
a long distance around, that at the proper moment they might
strike the enemy in flank. When the 6th and 19th Corps had
effectually performed the tasks allotted them and the foe was
slowly but surely retiring, there came loud shouts and heavy
firing beyond the right of our already widely extended lines.
What did it mean? Then it was that Sheridan came riding
down, and was heard to say, "I have put Torbert on the right
and told him to give them h — 1, and he is doing it. Crook is on
the right and giving it to them; press them; I know they'll run."
Then followed the fierce onset, and they did run. This closing act
of the day, the artist, Thurlstrup, seized for his masterly repre
sentation, calling it "Sheridan's Last Charge at Winchester."
Never was there a better place for a cavalry charge, and never
was one better made. To thousands the impression was as
vivid as that made in "Scotland Forever," at Waterloo. The
yellow locks of Custer appear well in advance, but with him
ride Lowell, in just one month to fall at Cedar Creek, Roden-
bough and Baker of the regular troops.
"Oh, the wild charge they made!"
Boldly they rode, and well. Nothing that Early could oppose
was strong enough to stem such a tide, and they swept horse,
foot and artillery before them. With flashing sabres they rode,
veritable demons of war, crowding multitudes of the flying
foe into surrender. They thread the battle-wrecked streets of
the city; nothing escapes them till finally they drive Early into
his stronghold at Fisher's hill. There was propriety in the mes
sage of Sheridan, "We have just sent them whirling through
Winchester." How strangely all these combats of the Civil War mingled
thoughts of the past. This city, thoroughly battle-scarred, was
a favorite place with Washington, and to this day are pointed
out situations permanently linked with his name. Every acre
of this territory had been hunted over by brave old Dan Mor
gan of the Virginia line in the Revolution, and since 1802 his
body has been lying in the burial-ground past which our battle
sweeps. Our fierce division now is to bring about a closer
union in the years to come.
The effect of this fight was far reaching. It not only made
Sheridan the idol of his immediate followers, but it convinced

154

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

the North that there was a true leader in the valley. However
closely Grant was holding the rebel lines in front of Peters
burg, and however many engagements had been fought from
the Rapidan southward, it must be allowed that the best any
one could say of them was that they were drawn battles. The
country had become anxious for an unqualified victory — one
in which a large array of prisoners and captured guns and
standards should tell of actual defeat; and here they got it,
for five cannon, fifteen flags and 2,000 prisoners attested the
success of the day. A hot presidential contest was in progress,
and this victory was worth whole tons of campaign literature
to the side that was supporting Abraham Lincoln.
How it struck the Confederates themselves appears in the
following wail taken from the diary of a wounded prisoner,
confined in Winchester: "I never saw troops in such confusion
before. Night found Sheridan's hosts in full and exultant
possession of much-abused, beloved Winchester. The hotel hos
pital was pretty full of desperately wounded and dying Confed
erates. The entire building was shrouded in darkness during
the dreadful night. Sleep was impossible, as the groans, sighs,
shrieks, prayers and oaths of the wretched sufferers, combined
with my own severe pain, banished all thoughts of rest. . . .
Our scattered troops, closely followed by the large array of
pursuers, retreated rapidly and in disorder through the city.
It was a sad, humiliating sight."

s^j^^wsS^

FORD OF THE OPEQUON.

THE VALLEY AND WINCHESTER. 155
During the remaining months of the war, the Confederates
never saw the lower valley in force again. They were confined,
closer and closer, to the ways leading to Richmond. Moseby
and his men still harried both friend and foe, but no organized
front was again presented north of Middletown.
An early start is made on the 20th, and the rebels are fol
lowed swiftly through the valley towns to the hill just south of
Strasburg. So rapid is the pace that men fall out, orders to
the contrary notwithstanding. Some companies of the regi
ment are almost nil when in the afternoon we go into camp.
The 3d Division is in the advance, so near to the rebel signal-
station on Three-top mountain that though out of range of
ball or bullet, the enemy can easily see our every movement,
count our numbers and almost describe our rations. Having
every advantage of position, that Sheridan on the 22d was able
to dislodge him was all the more creditable to general and sol
diers. The next day the regiment falls back to Sheridan's
headquarters and the hospital. During the day, many men
slightly wounded or unarmed come up. Lieutenant Freeoff
writes September 21st: "We are lying in this cursed gap
(Fisher's). The rebels are in it also, and if an attack is made
it will be an awful fight. There are two high hills and only, a
road ten feet wide between to go through. The rebels, I hear,
have never been beaten at this place. Some of the prisoners
say they are glad they are with us." Congratulations from
Washington and Petersburg were read before every company
for the Winchester victory.
The 22d is the day of Fisher's hill, and the rebels are driven
out by the 3d Division of the 6th Corps, combined with the
same flank movement so brilliantly worked at Winchester.
Again it is Crook's men who scale nominally inaccessible steeps,
and falling on Early's rear compel him to retreat in the direst
confusion, but in this day's glory the Ninth had no part, for
we were consigned to the useful yet inglorious duty of guard
ing the hospital, which, however well done, brings no laurels.
Our surgeons, Chamberlain and Brandt, labor at the amputa
tion-tables for thirty-six hours. The victory seemed to supple
ment that of the Wth, if anything were lacking on that day.
Though not in the fight, our major was on the alert, for it was
on the 22d that he rode into camp and ordered a corporal and
guard to go out and arrest a rebel whom he had found wander-

156 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
ing in the woods. The rebel proved to be our brigade butcher.
The major must have had an expensive settlement with his
brother officers over this incident. Companies B and H serve
as rear guard. The 23d still in the vicinity of Strasburg. Sup
ply-train arrives; on the 24th pass through Strasburg and en
camp south of Woodstock. The 25th continue the march south
ward, and we again pass through Edinburg, Hawkinsville,
Mount Jackson and New Market, camping on the farm of Mr.
Williamson, a rebel major, from whom his Confederate friends
had taken 800 bushels of wheat. Still to the southward. On
the 26th seventeen miles to Harrisonburg, where on a hill to
the east of the village we camp. Here also is the hospital tent.
We are now just 100 miles from Harper's Ferry, whence we
started one week ago. In camp during two following days,
and the region being new to us, an unusual store of provisions
is brought in. The boys steal the most unreasonable things.
Even colts are taken, though we are by no means hippophagi,
or horse eaters. The 29th takes us to Mount Crawford. Eight
miles further to the south and we fairly revel in the good things
of the land, though the inhabitants must have correspondingly
suffered. Mills and houses are ransacked for flour; salt and
fresh pork are found, and as proper judges we pronounce the
land excellent. In'the Vermont brigade was a practical miller,
Major Safford, who ground out a full day's ration for his entire
division. The last day of September sees us falling back to
Harrisonburg. As the farmers raise a little sugar-cane, the
boys get some syrup, but it is poor stuff; also the cider ob
tained here is not up to the Wayne and Cayuga standard.
Wheat has been sown in some places and cultivated in. We
remain here four days, with little to vary the monotony. Sun
day payroll is signed. Monday, the 3d, get ready to march at
daylight, but directing powers thought otherwise, and we re
main in camp. What will not these inquisitive Yankees find?
They even secure a quantity of maple-sugar. The day is spe
cially noteworthy in that the 3d Battalion moves up and once
more forms a part of the Ninth.
It was May 31st that the regiment was separated, and though
still a large body of men, the 9th Heavy Artillery is much
smaller than when we took transports at Alexandria for Belle
Plain. Men and officers have changed much, not only in expe
rience, but in personnel as well. Colonel Welling is now a

THIRD BATTALION, PETERSBURG TO HARRISONBURG. 157
lawyer in Lyons. Colonel Seward with a star upon his shoulder
is in command in Martinsburg. Colonel Taft on account of his
wound is not with us, and since Monocacy Major Burgess has
directed us; now he yields to Lieutenant Colonel Snyder, or
would do so were the latter not absent on leave.

CHAPTER XVII.
The 3d Battalion from Petersburg to Harrisonburg.
In Chapter XLII at its close, the 3d Battalion, including Com
panies F, G, I and L, had gone aboard the transport Thomas
Powell, and on the 9th of July, while the other eight companies
were fighting at Monocacy, these our comrades were having an
excursion down the James quite as delightful as that which
we had taken a few days before. Fortress Monroe is reached
at 3 P. M., and a stop of two hours is made for coal. Thence
moving seaward they reach the mouth of the Potomac at 1 A.
M., where the anchor is thrown out waiting for the high tide,
and at 4 o'clock the steamer starts on its way to the Capital.
En route the men note Mount Vernon and Fort Washington,
and at Fort Foote, which Company G had helped to build, the
boat was greeted with hearty cheers. The dock was reached
at noon, and dinner was served at Soldiers' Rest. A halt was
had here till 4 P. M., when the line of march was taken up
through Washington and Georgetown to Forts Reno, Simmons,
Kearney and intermediate batteries. One who was in this
march says, "The men cried, 'Boys, we are glad to see you;'
women cried for joy at the sight of these dusty soldiers; girls
brought water, ice and milk; pies and cookies were offered;
nothing was too good for the soldiers."
These men are now back in familiar scenes, and are ready to
defend forts which they had helped to erect. It is evident that
the enemy is nearing, and the utmost vigilance is maintained,
the soldiers lying by their guns throughout the night. The
11th of July is ushered in with activity in front, picket-firing
and skirmishing. The enemy burns a bridge on the Baltimore
& Ohio railroad and sets several houses on fire. Some firing
from our forts.

158 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Evidently the companies were distributed in squads. Anthony
Stacy says: "Company L went to Simmons first, then to Reno,
but thirty men had to return to Simmons at once, because the
men who relieved them were not armed. Some of L were also
in Forts De Russey and Kearney; Company F went directly
to Reno, later was in Fort Bayard, where it remained for sev
eral weeks, finally to Fort Thayer, near Bladensburg. Com
pany I was in Sumner and then in Reno. Lieutenant Yard gives
prices of food for officers at Tennallytown : cheese, 50 cents per
pound; butter, 60; sugar, 16^; tea, 90; ham, 16£. July 31st
thirty 'I' men went to Battery Rossell, eighty rods from Reno."
The 12th saw what fighting there was in defense of Wash
ington. As the most of the work was done in or in front of
Fort Stevens, there is not so very much to relate as to the
part borne by the Ninth. Our men, however, were there ready
to work the guns which they had assisted in planting and with
whose use they were fully acquainted. All obstructions in
front of the forts in the shape of buildings are removed lest
they may afford cover for the foe.
The opportune arrival of the 1st and 2d Divisions of the
6th Corps with our own 2d Battalion had done the business
for Early, and he withdrew his forces at the close of the day,
though extreme vigilance was maintained for several days,
scarcely abating till the 17th. During the investment, if such
it could be called, Company L was partly in Fort Kearney, and
its 100-pound Parrott was used to good purpose; Companies
F and G were in Reno; I, in Simmons. On the 13th Colonel
Seward, who was disabled at Monocacy, visits the battalion.
The 19th Army Corps passes on the 14th with a wagon-train,
evidently in pursuit of Early. The 15th brings the welcome
sight of the Ninth or the other two battalions, having come up
by way of Baltimore and Washington. They are at Tennally
town. President Lincoln visits the regiment. Stragglers
from Monocacy continue to make their appearance for several
days. On the 29th stringent orders are issued concerning steal
ing from the inhabitants, and leaving camp; while vigorous
and extended drill is ordered. The 23d brings back the 6th
Corps, including the 1st and 2d Battalions of the Ninth, from
the trip through Snicker's gap. Everyone in the regiment
wonders whether the two divisions will be reunited. The
picket-line is fully five miles from the forts, and our companies

159
have to take their regular turns, though the fresh food obtained
from the adjacent farms made the duty somewhat pleasurable.
On the 26th the companies reported at Fort Reno, having been
relieved by 100-day men, and evidently were again to take their
place with the regiment, marching out some ways north of
Tennallytown and encamping. The 27th the 3d Battalion
started towards Rockville, but before reaching it was overtaken
by orders to return to its former stations, the march being ap
parently the result of an error. As the men countermarch, they
meet the other eight companies on their way to and through
Rockville at the beginning of their long and exacting march.
The following weeks in the defenses are not eventful. There
is a regular round of picket-duty, inspection, parade and drill.
Now and then deserters from the rebel ranks come in, and es
caping conscripts are taken in. August 1st brought an alarm
of rebel approach, which sent the men into the forts and to
their guns for several following days.
This life in the forts gives martinets excellent opportunity
to display shining brasses and white gloves. What would some
of the Washington military visitors have said had they known
how they were sized up by officers and men who kept diaries?
Here is one entry: "Visited by General W  , an upstart and
a blockhead," yet very likely this embryonic Caesar went away
thinking he had left an ineffaceable impression. Well, it was
lasting, but not just what he intended.
August 17th Company L being relieved by the 6th New York
Heavy Artillery, Colonel Kitching, went to Fort Simmons, and
the boys feel quite at home. On the same day, G Company goes
over to Fort Mansfield. August 23d Colonel Seward comes
out from Washington and is anxious to have the regiment
united. Of this evident desire, one officer makes the record:
"Apparently the colonel would rather have us together in h — 1
than separated in heaven." Whatever his wishes he was never
to see the men together again, for before the review came, he
had laid off his eagle and "hitched his wagon to a star," and
the Ninth was under another commander. Sunday, the 28th, the
chaplain announced church, but only three or four attended —
very unappreciative.
As an illustration of how Dame Rumor changes facts, a jour
nal-keeper on the 26th records a smart cavalry skirmish near
Fort Sumner. It really was had at Annandale on the Fairfax

160 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Court House road, west of Alexandria on the 24th, between the
16th New York Cavalry and Moseby's men, the latter returning
unsuccessful. On the last day of the month Major Snyder in
spects the 6th Heavy, and Colonel Kitching performs a like
duty for the Ninth, and takes occasion to compliment the men.
There is no record of what Colonel S  said to the 6th, but
it is reasonable to think that he made a fair turn-about.
September finds the company still doing garrison duty,
though the air is laden with rumors of departure, and ere the
real start is made some moving about among the forts inter
venes. On the second day Major Henry Roessle of the 15th
New York Cavalry, who had been captain of Company E, rode
through and received the greetings of old acquaintances. Ap
parently there is nothing happening of more moment than the
occasional catching of a sentinel asleep on his post, and the
riots incident to the absorption of too much corn-juice. The
16th Major Snyder starts for home on a furlough. Companies
G and L are ordered to Forts Mansfield and Reno, and I to
Battery Vermont, about one mile from Fort Sumner. The
204th Pennsylvania Volunteers relieve Company L at Fort Sim
mons, and the company declares the bed-bugs at Reno "the
largest, fiercest and most numerous yet encountered." The 5th
Pennsylvania Light Artillery relieves G at Fort Mansfield. On
the 18th I Company proceeded to Fort Lincoln, twelve miles
away, just east of the Bladensburg pike, near the Eastern
Branch, and only three miles from Washington. Company F
goes to Fort Thayer in the same range. On the 18th, Company
G marched to Fort Bunker Hill, recalling the early days of
1862. Company L marched the same day to Fort Totten, just
a little to the northwest. The location and view are admira
ble. The U. S. Military Asylum is only a short distance away,
and is visited by many.
Though there is every indication of an early departure,
measurements are made for targets, just as though all were to
remain here the rest of the season. Soon after midnight of the
23d of September came the orders that were to send the four
companies to join their fellows in the valley. With three days'
cooked rations, all the men are off before daylight for Wash
ington, which they reach at 7 A. M. Breakfast is had at Sol
diers' Rest, and during the forenoon cars are taken on the
Baltimore & Ohio railroad station for Harper's Ferry. Prog-

THIRD BATTALION, PETERSBURG TO HARRISONEURG. 161
ress is slow, for it is not till the middle of the afternoon that
the Relay House is reached. (The writer recalls that in war
times he once jumped off a moving train on this section, and
back again, to prove that he could run faster than the train
was going.)
Monocacy Junction is seen at sunset, and night has settled
down when the Ferry appears. It is on record that the train
stopped so suddenly here that several men of Company I, riding
on top of a car, were tumbled off into the canal by whose side
the halt was made. Luckily no serious injury was suffered,
wherein they were more fortunate than a certain Massachu
setts regiment, which had several men drowned in this same
place and manner. Marching across the Potomac, a bivouac
is made on Bolivar Heights. From the 24th to the 27th the
men lie here while final preparations are made for their depar
ture. They do not know the scoldings received by their officers
from still higher ones because this or that was not done. It
is all the same in military — leave out the bickerings and fault
findings, and there would be a remarkable shrinkage in records.
While here on Sunday a raw German regiment with bright
new uniforms camped beside us. A cake-peddler came to camp
and stopped between the two commands to sell his goods. Some
mischievous scamp upset his wagon, and cakes covered the
ground and rolled about in profusion. A general stampede
for a supply of cakes was inaugurated, and soon every man in
sight, Dutchman and Yankee, was crunching cakes. Shortly
after the catastrophe happened, a report was circulated through
our camp that the Dutchmen had two of our men bucked and
gagged in punishment for tipping over the peddler's vehicle.
This created great indignation among our men, and a howl
went up for dire vengeance on the "fresh fish" for their audac
ity. Our commander, Major William Wood, and some line-
officers repaired to the guard-house of the Germans, and found
the report too true. A peremptory demand was made for our
men, followed with a threat of summary punishment if not com
plied with in twenty minutes.
The German officers began to get scared; they gathered in a
bunch near their guard-house and jabbered and gesticulated
in Dutch and watched our men "falling in." Soon their colonel
sent over and asked for an armistice; this request was indig
nantly spurned. The twenty minutes' time allowed was about
ll

162 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
up, the officers were taking their places presumably to do some
thing awful when a shout went up, and the imprisoned cake
fiends came walking over to our camp. So much for bluff !
Some of the men find old acquaintances in the 184th New
York, a battalion of which is encamped near. Harper's Ferry
is visited. The scenes of John Brown's raid are inspected, and
Sheridan's captured cannon from the valley admired.
The starting on the 27th is slow, going just about one mile
before dinner to the westward and then wait awhile; later we
take up the line of march, passing through Charlestown at 5
P. M., of course realizing all the John Brown memories that the
place was sure to excite. The march of the 28th is a long and
hard one, with the added duty of guarding a wagon-train, liable
at any moment to prove a serious affair, for Moseby and his
men came and went like the wind. The start is made at sun
rise, and the route is to the west and south through Smithfield
and Bunker Hill to Winchester, and camp is made late in the
afternoon south of the city and twenty-two miles from the
starting-place. The next day the march is resumed at sunrise
and extends through the valley villages of Newtown, Middle-
town and Strasburg, five miles beyond which a camping-place
is found. It was a long and tedious trip, passing en route the
battlefield of Fisher's hill, where on the 22d Sheridan had
beaten Early. The day's jaunt covered nearly or quite twenty-
five miles. Mount Jackson is fully twenty miles away, and the
companies move at daylight September 30th. Many burned
railroad bridges are passed, and all note the absence of able-
bodied men in the places threaded — only children, aged men,
and women of all ages, the latter sour in visage and saucy in
spirit. Thus Woodstock and Edinburg are seen, only brief halts
being made on the forced march. Nightfall finds a camping-
place west of Mount Jackson. The men begin to realize the
possibilities of a trip through an enemy's country, and regale
themselves on the few chickens left by those who had preceded
them. October signalized its advent by a hard, cold rain, but it did
not prevent the march, which, beginning at 8 A. M., continued
through the mud and wet till 9' P. M., terminating near Harri
sonburg. New Market is passed, where in the preceding May,
15th day, the rebels under Breckinridge had beaten Sigel, driv
ing him and his men back to Strasburg, resulting in his super-

Major General H. G. Wright.
Brev't Maj. General James B. Ricketts. Brev't Maj. General J. Warren Keifer.

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 163
sedure by Hunter. The country seems all aflame, for Sheridan
is carrying out his orders to make the valley less desirable for
Richmond raids. Forage of all descriptions, grain and barns
are destroyed and stock is driven off. It is a melancholy sight;
but it is war. Roast pig, not cooked according to Charles
Lamb's formula, but nevertheless exceedingly palatable, tick
les the taste of some of the boys, on the day's march. It is said
that Sheridan's headquarters are only two miles away. While
there is an abundance of water in the air, there is very little
to be had for drinking purposes. The 2d is Sunday, and a
needed rest is had in camp, the only drawback a lack of water.
Food is abundant, both in the way of rations and from local
sources. The senior captain in the battalion buys an eight-
dollar horse; doubtless he had a premonition of his approach
ing promotion, and he wanted to be ready. Some of the boys
from the other companies of the Ninth make friendly calls.
The 3d day of October ends the separate career of the 3d Bat
talion, for on this day it moves up and reports to Major Bur
gess, in command of the other two. In the morning a portion
of the battalion, 225 men, was set to guard certain prisoners,
while the remainder, 453 men with eleven officers, reported to
the regiment. For several months the twelve companies will
march, bivouac, fight, suffer and rejoice together.

CHAPTER XVIII.
The Valley and Cedar Creek.
"There is perhaps no fairer land beneath the sun than
that section of Virginia called the Great Valley."
D. H. Strother, "Porte Crayon."
Himself a native of Martinsburg, which might be called the
extreme northern end of the valley, he may be said to have had
the hallowed associations of childhood to bias his judgment, but
those not to the manor born have fully agreed in his opinion.
Visitors from all parts of the world have unconsciously ex
pressed the same sentiment. It is all the more pleasurable in
quoting the words of General Strother to note that he served
in the Union army throughout the war.

164 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Of the thousands who followed "Phil" Sheridan up and down
the valley, there were very few who failed to note its sur
passing beauty. While blistered feet and empty stomachs are
not conducive to aesthetic observations, even these could not
restrain the eye as it rested on wooded peak, sinuous river and
fertile fields. Everywhere nature had spread her gifts with
lavish hands, and passing events were to give to these ways
and hills and acres a gloss like that which gilds the noted spots
of the Eastern world.
These soldiers in blue and gray were shuttles in a mighty
loom, whose beams and posts were the roads and hills of this
fair land; the woof, the principles for which they fought, and
as they alternately shot back and forth the fabric of history
grew, woven of successive threads of varying hue mingled with
crimson red, their own life's blood, till the mighty web seemed
a veritable tapestry on which we might read deeds of valor,
tales of endurance and suffering and love of native land alike
creditable to all. The pictures anon seem to breathe, and we
see starting into action the brave men who here gave them
selves to this national texture. Russell and Rodes, Lowell and
Ramseur, with the thousands of lesser rank who unshrinkingly
offered themselves to adorn its surface — all these are seen by
every eye that glances over the mighty work which they ac
complished, and posterity, generations yet unborn, shall see
in the product of their labors that for which they gave their
lives, liberty for all. Those who died from Winchester to
Staunton died not in vain. They live, and must forever live.
It is probable that living upon the enemy never had a more
thorough illustration than on the part of our boys in their
valley experience. What they could not tell of foraging and
"drawing" supplies, would not be worth telling. While Sher
man's "Bummers" may have done a larger business, they did
not have such a variety of resources, nor so rich a base of
operations. Notwithstanding the almost ceaseless activity of the
army, the men found time to inspect every nook and cranny
of the country. They devised or appropriated cooking utensils
till they were ready to prepare any dish from fried pork to a
plum pudding. They developed culinary talent that would have
astonished the women at home. It would seem that aside from
the duty of fighting and chasing rebels, they became little bet
ter than organized stomachs. One veteran, who kept his diary

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 165
through the entire enlistment, says: "As I read over these
words written so long ago, I almost blush at the reflection
that I recorded little else than what I had to eat." After all,
has not General Sherman said, "An army moves on its belly"?
The harder and fiercer the strife, the nearer man reverts to
that early period in his history when, with his fellow animals,
he struggled for mere existence. The culture of ages disap
pears, mind yields to matter, the body asserts itself, and that
upon which it may subsist is the prime consideration.
Rations* as furnished by the government were well enough
to fall back upon under pressure, but for daily consumption
the country itself afforded what the soldiers liked far better.
In taking these items there was little question of the suffering
that might be caused by such an appropriation, yet these men
had helpless families at home; in many cases they were pro
fessed Christians; but war, cruel, relentless war, transforms
those who engage in it. Hungry men do not moralize.
Behold a camp scene! The fuel used is in many cases the
farmers' fences. In one instance the hapless possessor said,
"That is the third fence destroyed on that same line within
the last three months; secesh and Union, they both act just
the same." There was nothing so handy for placing pots, cups,
spiders and kettles as a pile of rails, and how the Virginia
rail-fences would burn! They had been drying for generations
for just this purpose, and no man more quickly realizes the
eternal fitness of things than the soldier in active warfare.
From our first entrance of this happy land, fruit and vegetables
have been at their best. Green corn was in a state to keep
Indians' feet dancing, and all the stock had not been driven
away. From the mills and houses raw flour was secured, fowls
were stolen, and chicken potpie was by no means a rarity.
Boiled dinners, including the orthodox cabbage and salt pork,
were frequent, and for side dishes honey and preserves were
the rule. For the proper preparation of such dishes, heavy
*An army ration as issued on the march consisted of 12 ounces
of pork or bacon, or 1} pounds of fresh beef, or 1 pound 6 ounces of
salt beef; 1 pound of hard bread. Fifteen pounds of beans for 100
rations, 8 pounds of roasted coffee, or 2 pounds of tea, for 100 rations;
15 pounds of sugar and 4 pounds of soap for 100 rations. Beef was
driven on foot. In camp near supplies, flour or soft bread was
issued in place of hard-tack when asked for, and rice in place of beans,
and vinegar, pepper and desiccated vegetables in addition.

166 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
kettles were carried in addition to the regular warlike accou
trements, the members of a mess by pairs taking turns in
transporting. Of course the kettle itself was at first stolen,
and not infrequently stolen again by some envious mess in
another portion of the force. It was, "Every man for himself,
and the d — 1 take the hindmost."
Some new dishes were devised, one something like the home
succotash without the beans; corn in the milk cut from the cob,
cooked in water or milk, and stirred until thick; then corn a
little older would be rubbed upon a grater made by punching
holes in a stolen milk-pan. This when cooked was an improve
ment on samp, or coarse Indian meal. The valley cows sup
plied the natural accompaniment. Eggs were cooked in every
conceivable way. We made biscuits, too, but, "How could you
raise them?" says some careful housewife; easy enough for an
inventive Yankee who knew just a little of chemistry. Wood
ashes boiled for a while supplied the potash base of saleratus,
and a few drops of vinegar did the acid business, at home done
by sour milk, and a covered spider was oven enough. Had
wives at home only known the talents of their benedicts, many
would have demanded a culinary vacation, at least for a while
when the war was over.
"An army terrible with banners," was not to be mentioned
with the 6th Corps when it had on its war and cooking togs.
Guns and ammunition were useful on occasion, but when the
real necessaries of life were mentioned, they were not in it with
the blackened coffee-cup tied to the haversack, the leaf or grass
cleaned skillet, with soot-covered exterior, suspended from the
stalwart back forming a sort of rear armor, and the tenderly-
watched camp-kettle borne by sometimes wearied hands. If
they do not carry Caesar and his fortunes, they surely bear
that which has to do with the meat upon which Great Caesar
feeds. October 4th still in camp, with conflagrations in every direc
tion ; much family history is disappearing in this ruthless way,
but war's demands are heartless. One boy records that he
paid $15 in Confederate money for five pounds of cheese. It is
a comforting reflection that even one purchase was made.
Owing to the reunion of the regiment, a rearrangement of
battalions is made, and Major William Wood commands the
1st, Captain Hyde the 2d, and Captain A. S. Wood the 3d.

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 167
Colonel Seward has become a brigadier general, with head
quarters at Martinsburg; Lieutenant Colonel Taft, promoted
to colonel, is unable to be with us on account of the loss of a
leg at Monocacy; Major Snyder, now lieutenant colonel, is
away on furlough, and Major Burgess commands the regiment.
Companies G, K, I, and D are in the 1st Battalion. We are
a long way from our base of supplies. Our wagons, not numer
ous enough for our needs, are attacked in every train. Guard
ing trains is no sinecure.
Nothing can be found of the enemy in front, so the lost
third of the Ninth comes up just in time to fall back with us,
for on the 6th we retire twenty-two miles with very little halt
ing, having started at daylight, and camp near Mount Jackson.
The air is filled with the smoke of burning property. The Ninth
leading the 3d Division, we march more easily than those be
hind. We occupy old rebel rifle-pits.
It was on this day's march that one of our boys, with foot
so swollen that he could not wear a boot, had fallen out, and
was fully an hour behind the regiment. The sun was an hour
high when the sight of three cows aroused an appetite for milk.
Though far behind and very weary, he determined to have milk
for supper. Two bossies were impervious to his blandishments,
but the third yielded and a full cup rewarded his efforts. Sit
ting on the corner of a rail-fence with crumbed hardtack, he
played he was a boy again. Just then an officer rode up, say
ing, "What in h — 1 are you doing there? There are rebs in
those woods, and you will be gobbled before morning." At
this announcement a lively fusilade from the woods made the
rider put spurs to his horse and disappear. "I finished my
meal in peace ; never had bread and milk tasted so good before,
and strengthened by the same I pushed on, unmolested further
by the Johnnies, and just as the sun passed over the mountain,
I caught up with my comrades."
The next day we continued our retrograde movement, though
slowly, through Mount Jackson and Woodstock, camping a
little north of the town. As bridges had been burned, all
streams had to be forded. A cloud of smoke accompanies us,
betokening ill to the inhabitants. The hours of the 8th see us
marching back to Strasburg, passing Fisher's hill, and camping
on flat land by the river-side, where we meet the postmaster
for the first time since leaving Harper's Ferry.

168 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Sunday, the 9th, is spent in camp, and the paymaster, Major
Ely, makes the day happy for some of the companies. On this
same 9th there is fighting back of us; men, wagons and guns
are captured. It was a short, sharp conflict at Tom's brook
between our cavalry and that of the enemy under Rosser, a
new leader, who instead of clearing the valley of our forces
lost nearly everything that he had. It may have been here
that coming into Early's presence with laurel leaves upon his
hat, the older officer remarked, "A pumpkin-vine would be
more appropriate." "How so, General?" said Rosser. "Because
it's so d — d good at running."
The morning of the 10th reveals the first frost of the season,
and while it may injure corn, it will surely ripen persimmons.
March near middle of forenoon north to Middletown, thence
deflected to the southeast, reaching Front Royal in the after
noon. It was just before this march that a 1st sergeant of the
Ninth stole two very fine white geese, one of which he and his
friends cooked and ate, but "forward" orders came too early
to secure the second in like manner. So the goose became a
part of the officer's baggage as they marched away, reposing
upon the shoulders soon to wear lieutenant's straps. For once
the bird was too heavy, or as the writer expressed, "He was
not up or down to my standard of leanness, so he was presented
to the commander's orderly, who carried him to our journey's
end ; there he was cooked and served, and I came in for a good
share of him, though not in a perfectly legitimate way, for I
did not dine with the major." Here on the 11th more compa
nies were paid, for six months, the first money received since
leaving the defenses, and the most of it was sent home. Some
of the men were ordered out to drive away guerrillas who were
prowling about the camp, but being well mounted, they had
little difficulty in escaping. Foraging is very good, and life is
worth living.
October 12th is signalized by the arrival of Lieutenant Col
onel Snyder, who brought numerous commissions with him.
Promotion in war-time is rapid. Camp is moved across the
small creek on whose banks we had paused, and a bridge is
built in the rain by our workmen. The next day we march
towards Ashby's gap, the rumor being that we are going to
Alexandria, but the orders are countermanded on reaching the

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 169
river, so we countermarch and encamp near Millwood.* An
apple-orchard near by renders the camp all the more pleasant,
for the fruit is the best yet sampled. War knows neither night
nor day, for it is 3 o'clock A. M. of the 14th when we rouse,
fall in, and start away on a march, striking the Winchester pike
at Newtown and terminating at Cedar creek, where we form in
battle-line, the enemy being in evidence; but as nothing comes
of it, we go into camp. The next day came nearly 300 recruits,
who were distributed through the several companies. Our
camp is moved a short distance and tents are pitched regularly.
The enemy can be seen plainly beyond Fisher's hill cutting
trees, and apparently planting batteries.
The 16th is Sunday, and we are ordered under arms between
3 and 4 A. M., as an attack is expected; but it does not come.
Sergeant Devoe of Company G, who later became our chaplain,
gave us a sermon. Monday is cool, and our recruits get their
first drill. Great vigilance is had, for an attack is imminent.
Notwithstanding the danger, the regular purveyors go out
after food, and return with the proverbial mutton. Among the
seekers were some of the new recruits, and one, only a lad,
records his inability to hit a turkey; says they started at 9 A.
M. and got back at 5 in the afternoon. Thinks they must have
gone ten miles, and is sure that they took everything that was
out of doors and they happened to want. Wonders how the
folks in York state would like such usage. The 18th saw a
general effort to secure wood for fuel, fence-rails having long
since disappeared; battalion drill with enemy in sight; other
wise quiet.
By many the 19th of October is considered the most impor-

*Since the war we have learned that Sheridan sent the 6th Corps to
Front Royal with the expectation of returning us to Washington by
the Manassas Gap railroad then being repaired. As, however, repairs
had ceased, he ordered us up to Ashby's gap, and General Wright's
horse was in the Shenandoah when the countermarching order was
received. The enemy had reappeared in force at Fisher's hill, and
therefrom was sending out attacking parties, evidently under the im
pression that the main army was much smaller than it was before.
Sixth Corps veterans cannot be blamed that they are proud over
Sheridan's conclusion that their retention was necessary to the success
of his campaign, though their return meant resumption of long
marches, and the horrors as well as glory of Cedar Creek. The wis
dom of this reversal of our movements was evident when Early moved
out on that morning walk of October 19th.

170 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
tant day in the history of the regiment, for within its hours
was fought the great Battle of Cedar Creek.* On the 15th, in
obedience to orders from Washington, Sheridan had departed
thither, via Front Royal and Manassas gap. On his return he
reached Winchester between 3 and 4 P. M. on the 18th, and
reports from the front, where General H. G. Wright was in
command, being reassuring, he remained there over night. At
6 the next morning, he was roused with statements that heavy
firing was heard from the south, but it was not till nearly 9
o'clock that he mounted Rienzi and started armyward. Even
then he had no intimation of the disaster that had befallen
his forces.
In brief, the situation on the banks of Cedar creek, this Octo
ber morning, was as follows: Of the main infantry, General
Crook with his 8th Corps, the same men who had so gallantly
turned the rebel left flank at Winchester and Fisher's hill,
held our left and the valley pike facing east and south, and
having intrenchments. Then towards the right came the 19th
Corps, General Emory, facing south and along the high banks
of the creek. Here also were earthworks, the corps being con
siderably further to the north than the 8th.
Again towards the right and north, almost at right angles
with the 19th, was the 6th Corps. We faced the stream and
looked westward. Of this corps, the 2d Division held the right,
the 1st the centre, and the 3d the left. The 2d Cavalry flanked
the infantry, with Custer on the right of the 6th Corps, and
Powell, formerly Averill's, on the extreme left, our lines ex
tending thus from North Mountain to the vicinity of Front
Royal. Never was there a morning better fitted for Early's
purposes than this. The air reeked with moisture, and not till
9 o'clock could men be sure of where they were.
His plan was to make a feint upon our right, and to attack
in force the left. He had learned from his sightly signal-sta
tion on Massanuttan mountain that our left was lightly pick
eted, and that the cavalry force was small. He accordingly de-

*Just before the Battle of Cedar Creek, Early declared he would be
in Pennsylvania on election day, November 8th, or in hell; a remark
characteristic, but as far from realization as Beauregard's similar one
before Shiloh, viz., that he would water his horse, on the given night,
either in the Mississippi or in hell. These rebels appeared to be very
ready to accept hell as their alternative destination.

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK.

171

From Chaplain Haynes' "10th Vermont."
CEDAR CREEK BATTLEFIELD.

172 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
termined to move a column between the base of the mountain
and the river (the north fork of the Shenandoah), to ford the
same, and then to fall upon our left and rear. The plan was
that of Fisher's hill, in reverse. To secure the utmost quiet,
swords and canteens were ordered to be left in camp. The
rebel infantry to make this attack consisted of three divisions
of the 2d Corps, viz., Gordon's, Ramseur's and Pegram's, all
under General Gordon, while Early himself was to follow with
Kershaw's and Wharton's divisions, and to attack as soon as
Gordon had engaged, the latter to be ready to assail at 5 o'clock.
Rosser was to lead his cavalry against the Union right, while
Lomax was to look out for the Federal cavalry towards Front.
Royal. Knowing the Belle Grove House to be Sheridan's head
quarters, that was made the objective point, with the hope of
capturing the Union leaders. In effect, Early moved up quicker
than was intended, forded Cedar creek at Bowman's mill, and
Kershaw was first to attack promptly at 5 o'clock. Gordon,
having forded the Shenandoah, was soon heard from, and Ros
ser much earlier skirmished as ordered on the Union right.
It has been claimed that rebels in Union clothing relieved
our pickets. Be this as it may, the surprise of the veterans of
the 8th Corps was complete. It was Thoburn's division that
was first struck, and their seven cannon were at once turned
against them. The rout continued in detail, next striking the
19th Corps, which in turn gave way, and no settled resistance
was made till the 6th Corps was reached. It is safe to state
that the Army of the Shenandoah was never in greater con
fusion. It was just at dawn, with an impenetrable mist.
Horses, mules, cows, officers and men fairly confounded con
fusion, and to crown all, however ludicrous some of the scenes
may have been, death was putting in his fiercest work, for
rebel shot, shell and bullets kept coming thicker and faster.
As General Wright was in command of the army, the 6th Corps
was under General Ricketts, the 3d Division under Colonel
Keifer and our 2d Brigade followed Colonel Ball of the 122d
Ohio. As General Ricketts was wounded early in the fight, he
was succeeded by General Getty of the 2d Division.
The mischief of the early morning was done beyond repair,
and no gallantry of the 6th could recall the fugitives, but as
our interest centres chiefly in our own brigade or regiment,
it is well to let Colonel Ball tell his own story:

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 173
The troops were roused at dawn of day by musketry at our
left. Shortly after the lines were formed, the command of the
brigade devolved upon myself, in consequence of changes re
sulting from the absence of General Sheridan. The brigade
was formed in two lines — the first composed of the 9th New
York Artillery, 138th Pennsylvania, and a portion of the 67th
Pennsylvania; the second embraced the 6th Maryland, 126th,
122d and the 110th Ohio; the regiments occupied positions
from right to left as named. Before sunrise I received orders
to move by the right flank toward the pike. After moving a
short distance in that direction, orders were received to return
to the position from which we had just moved, and to await
orders. Shortly afterward, I was ordered in the same manner
and direction as before. The brigade moved to an elevation
near and in rear of army headquarters, where it came under
fire. The lines were faced by the rear rank; the second, now
become the first, moved forward to meet the advancing foe
and hold a crest in front. The troops moved gallantly and
drove back the advance of the enemy, and became warmly
engaged, capturing several prisoners. About this time a large
number of the 19th Army Corps passed through the line and
broke its organization. The line could not be reformed in that
place in consequence of the numbers retreating over the ground.
The greater part of the troops of that line collected and formed
on the remaining line. The brigade was then under severe fire,
both from infantry and artillery. Troops left the field on both
my right and left, until the brigade was without immediate
support. At this particular moment the 9th New York Heavy
Artillery* behaved with coolness and gallantry. Under orders
the troops moved back with great regularity a short distance
to another elevation, where they were met by another order
to retire to a road half a mile to the rear. At the road the
position was occupied a few minutes, the 8th Corps on my left.
I was then ordered to move to the left. I did so, connecting
with the left of the 8th Army Corps. Having now no connec
tion on my left, I ordered Captain Prentiss, 6th Maryland, to
protect the left flank by skirmishers. The direction was prompt
ly carried out.

?Lieutenant Colonel Moses M. Granger of the 122d Ohio, before the
Ohio Commandery, Loyal Legion, said: "We had a good view of our
brigade while marching to the rear, and especially admired the bear
ing of the 9th New York Heavy Artillery, our largest regiment."
Adjutant Wheeler of the 122dOhio in a letter to Colonel Granger says:
"Admiring the splendid performance of the 9th New- York, under
their lieutenant colonel (just promoted from senior major, and who
had never been under fire before); they marched like a militia
regiment on parade, and were frequently halted, dressed, faced
about and made to fire. It certainly had a good moral effect."

174 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
After occupying the position some time, I received orders to
move to the rear. I did so, the troops of the 8th Army Corps
passing to my left, and took a position a mile to the rear of
that last occupied. Here we were ordered to move obliquely
to the left and rear, and connect with the right of the 2d Divi
sion, 6th Army Corps. We connected with the right of the
8th Corps at a stone fence in a wood near the pike. Defensive
works were hastily constructed of such material as could readily
be had, and the troops, it being noon, rested, some two hours or
more. . . . While we were in this position, Major General Sheri
dan rode along the line from left to right, encouraging the men.
He was greeted with most enthusiastic cheers by the troops.
This was the first assurance the army had of his return. About
3 P. M. the whole army advanced in one line against the
enemy. Immediately before advancing the troops were with
drawn to the left, and my left connected with the 2d Division,
6th Corps, while my right connected with the 1st Brigade, 3d
Division. . . . Several efforts were made by the enemy
during the pursuit to rally, but the enthusiastic pursuit foiled
all such efforts. Our troops were subject to artillery fire of
solid shot, shell and grape during the pursuit, and we reached
the intrenchments of the 19th Army Corps (which were cap
tured in the morning) as the sun set. Here the pursuit by the
infantry was discontinued. The first, second and probably the
third colors planted on the recovered works of the 19th Corps
were of regiments composing this brigade. . . .
Colonel J. Warren Keifer, commanding the 3d Division, in
his extended report, mentions particularly the services of
Major J. W. Snyder, commanding the 9th Heavy, and also
Major Charles Burgess, in command of one of the battalions.
Captain Anson S. Wood,* chief of pioneers upon his staff, is
commended for his faithfulness and gallantry in the thickest
of the battle. He also stated that the 9th New York Heavy
Artillery, for its noble behavior, deserves to be specially men
tioned. "The regiment had several hundred recruits that had
just entered the service."
Let us now return to Sheridan, whom we left riding swiftly
to the fray.
Here are his words, descriptive of his first sight of the rout
and his subsequent action :

*Colonel Granger,in the paper already quoted from, has these words :
"Just then Major Anson Wood, of the 9th N. Y. Heavy Artillery
(one of our division staff), was seen galloping across the plateau
beyond the ravine. Reining up and raising his hand in salute to
Colonel Ball, the major's horse fell dead before the rider could speak
his message."

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 175
At Mill creek my escort fell in behind, and we were going
ahead at a regular pace, when, just as we made the crest of
the rise beyond the stream, there burst upon our view the
appalling spectacle of a panic-stricken army, hundreds of
slightly wounded men, throngs of others unhurt, but utterly
demoralized, and baggage-wagons by the score, all pressing to
the rear in hopeless confusion, telling only too plainly that a
disaster had occurred at the front. On accosting some of the
fugitives, they assured me that the army was broken up, in full
retreat, and that all was lost; all this with a manner true to
that peculiar indifference that takes possession of panic-stricken
men. I was greatly disturbed by the sight, but at once sent
word to Colonel Edwards, commanding the brigade in Win
chester, to stretch his troops across the valley, near Mill creek,
and stop all fugitives, directing also that the transportation
be passed through and parked on the north side of the town.
. . . . For a short distance I traveled on the road, but
soon found it so blocked with wagons and wounded men that
my progress was impeded, and I was forced to take to the ad
joining fields to make haste. When most of the wagons and
wounded men were passed, I returned to the road, which was
thickly lined with unhurt men, who, having got far enough to
the rear to be out of danger, had halted, without any organiza
tion, and begun cooking coffee, but when they saw me, they
abandoned their coffee, threw up their hats, shouldered their
muskets, and as I passed along turned to follow with enthu
siasm and cheers. To acknowledge this exhibition of feeling T
took off my hat, and with Forsyth and O'Keefe rode some dis
tance in advance of my escort, while every mounted officer
who saw me galloped out on either side of the pike to tell the
men at a distance that I had come back. In this way the
news was spread to the stragglers off the road, when they, too,
turned their faces to the front and marched towards the enemy,
changing in a moment from the depths of depression to the
extreme of enthusiasm. I already knew that in the ordinary
condition of mind enthusiasm is a potent element with soldiers,
but what I saw that day convinced me that if it can be excited
from a state of despondency its power is almost irresistible.
I said nothing except to remark as I rode along the road, "If
I had been with you this morning, this disaster would not have
happened. We must face the other way; we will go back and
recover our camp." . . . When nearing the valley pike, just
south of Newtown, I saw about three-fourths of a mile west of
the pike a body of troops, which proved to be Ricketts's and
Wheaton's divisions of the 6th Corps, and then learned that the
19th Corps had halted a little to the right and rear of these,
but I did not stop, desiring to get to the extreme front. Con
tinuing on parallel with the pike, about midway between New
town and Middletown, I crossed to the west of it, and a little

176 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
later came up in rear of Getty's division of the 6th Corps.
. . . . Between 3.30 and 4 o'clock, I was ready to assail,
and decided to do so by advancing my infantry line in a swing
ing movement, so as to gain the valley pike between Middle-
town and the Belle Grove House.
Few battles during the Rebellion have received more atten
tion at the hands of the historian than that of Cedar Creek.
That it was one of the most important, few will question. The
former engagements in the valley campaign, fierce and bloody
though they were, had only scotched the snake, not killed it.
Early had the prevailing American characteristic of not know
ing when he was whipped, and in this instance his ignorance
came near working irreparable misfortune to the Union cause,
for the effect upon the presidential contest, then in progress,
of such a defeat as the morning's result bade fair to be, no
one can overestimate. His attack and early success must be
acknowledged to be phenomenal; whether his surprise would
have been any less fortunate for him, had Sheridan been in
the camp, we can never tell. Very likely the presence of the
trusted chief might have sooner brought order out of chaos,
but that his coming was the sole cause of the subsequent vic
tory, no 6th Corps man will ever concede. The rout was over,
the tide was stemmed, the tangled ends were in the hands of
Wright, and the advance would have been made earlier than
it was made had not Sheridan appeared. No one questions the
enthusiasm which his coming inspired, nor the value of his
presence, but twenty-four years later, he said: "The surprise
of the morning might have befallen me as well as the general
upon whom it did descend."
At no moment was there anything approaching a panic in
the ranks of the 6th Corps, and in saying this there is no re
flection, direct nor implied, upon the organizations that first
received the shock of the enemy's attack. We had time to form,
and we did so; we acted steadily and constantly under orders,
and never fell back a step, except as the overlapping or flank
ing of the foe necessitated it. Individuals may have run away,
but no regiment nor other body of men belonging to the corps
was for a moment stampeded. The most that has been uttered
about the battle, in an adverse manner, has come from those
who never saw this nor any other fight, and in fancy they have
worked wonders. They are scarcely Don Quixotes even, but

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 177
rather the windmills that the latter assailed. Should they care
to question those who were there, they would find a thorough
agreement of sentiment as to the situation when Sheridan came
up. The alignment of the 6th and 19th Corps was retained as
he found it, and the advance was made therefrom. That some
poor fellows were obliged to run, no one denies. They were
assailed while sleeping quietly in their tents. Naked they
sprang from them, and without arms or clothing they sought
shelter as best they could; but they did not make up an army.
They were the very first attacked, and their more fortunate
comrades further back had more opportunity to dress and be
ready. Among those regiments, as Sheridan rode up, were men
who were to bear a prominent part in coming years in the
affairs of the country. He states in his Memoirs that, at one
point, a group of colors arose as he approached, and among the
officers he recognized R. B. Hayes, afterwards president, then
commanding a division in the 8th Corps, and with him must
have been another future president, for William McKinley,
a member of the same 23d Ohio, was an officer on Hayes's
staff. What General Wright himself thought upon this subject is
evident from the following letter, now for the first time printed.
A member of the regiment, Charles A. Ford of Homer, N. Y.,
several years since addressed a letter to General Wright, to
which the latter was pleased to reply as follows :
Washington, Dec. 5th, 1889.
Dear Sir: I am in receipt of yours of the 30th ult, in which
you present the following question: "Do you think the events
of the 19th of October, 1864, would have been materially
changed had General Sheridan remained in Winchester?"
The position taken up by the 6th and 19th Corps, after the
events of the early morning, was in accordance with my in
structions, and I had no thought of falling back further ; and I
fully intended to assume the offensive as soon as the troops
should be fairly in position. The formation was nearly com
pleted when General Sheridan arrived and was carried out
under the orders already given, none of them being changed
by General Sheridan; indeed, he approved of all the arrange
ments as I explained them to him. I should have attacked
sooner than he did; and while the delay was advantageous to
us by allowing needful rest to our troops, it must not be for
gotten that the enemy derived a like advantage. That we
should beat the enemy I felt no doubt; the 6th and 19th
Corps were both well in hand, had suffered little from the
12

178 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
events of the morning, and my confidence in them was unim
paired. I think the foregoing is an answer to your question; and I
have proposed to confine this reply strictly thereto, not going
into a general consideration of the events of that day.
Very respectfully,
i , ' H. G. WRIGHT,
Brig, and B'v't Maj. Gen. U. S. A.
1 (Retired).
Fortunately the report of Major James W. Snyder command
ing the regiment is particularly explicit, and it is given in full
with an expressed regret that other officers of the Ninth
were not, on occasion, equally clear and comprehensive:
Our regiment was aroused at daylight by musketry on the ex
treme left of our line and in front of the 8th Corps. I immediate
ly ordered the men under arms. Lieutenant Wiley of Colonel
Keifer's staff, commanding 2d Brigade, rode up and ordered the
regiment into line. We formed line in front of our camp,
struck tents and slung knapsacks. The sick were sent to the
rear, and, as the sailors would say, the "decks were cleared for
action." We immediately moved off by the right flank, by file
right, forming a line perpendicular to the first line and faced
to the rear. At this time Colonel Keifer, commanding brigade,
succeeded to the command of the 3d Division, General Ricketts
being wounded, and Colonel Ball took command of the brigade.
I was then ordered to move the regiment by the left flank to
the ground in front of our camp, and after halting a few min
utes, I was ordered to countermarch by the left flank, and
moved out and formed a line parallel and some 150 yards to
the right and rear of our first line. From this position, we
opened fire and held in check the rebels, who were advancing
upon the knoll near the camp. At this time we were on the
right of the brigade with no connection on our right, and after
a few volleys we were ordered to fall back and take a position
on a knoll some 200 yards to the rear of this line. Here we
again opened fire upon the enemy, whose colors could be dis
tinctly seen between us and our camp as we advanced. At this
point their fire was very severe, but we returned compliment
for compliment in the shape of leaden bullets. The ground
was literally covered with our dead and wounded, but we con
tested the ground, inch by inch, until an aide from the brigade
commander ordered us to fall back below the crest of the hill,
which we did in good order. At this moment General Wright,
commanding the army in the absence of General Sheridan, rode
up and ordered me to advance and hold the crest. The com
mand "Forward" was given. The men responded with a cheer,
and advanced with enthusiasm under a galling fire in front

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 179
and upon our flanks. The balance of the brigade having fallen
back, and there being no connection on our right, our flank
was left exposed to a severe cross-fire from the rebel columns,
which had got almost to our rear.
Captain Dudrow, on the brigade staff, rode up again, and or
dered me to fall back. I pointed him to General Wright, saying,
"The general has ordered me to hold this crest, and I shall
obey his orders." Our fire, in the meantime, being delivered
with so much spirit, had checked the advance of the rebels,
and gave the troops in our rear a chance to form a line. The
line being formed, we were ordered to fall back, and marching
by the rear rank at a left oblique, we joined the 1st Division
on our right. We then halted, faced to the front in a road or
lane, and immediately moved by the left flank into a piece of
woods about half a mile to the left. There we halted, faced
to the front, and sent forward as skirmishers about seventy men
under command of Lieutenants Flynn (Company K) and Parrish
{Company M). Again under orders we fell back and marched by
the right oblique nearly a mile, when our brigade joined the 2d
Division on our left. We then faced to the front and the whole
line advanced, taking position about one mile and a quarter
north of Middletown. There we threw together a breastwork
of rails, which we occupied from 10.30 A. M. till 3.30 P. M.,
when the whole line was ordered to advance through a piece
of woods, which we did in good order, the 122d Ohio being on
our left. When we were nearly through the wood and about
to emerge into an open field on our right, a heavy fire of
musketry and shell was poured into us and caused our whole
line to waver. At first a portion of our left fell back, but they
were soon rallied and pushed forward and drove the rebels
about three-quarters of a mile, until they, taking position be
hind a stone wall, disputed our advance for more than an hour.
A portion of my command, having gained a stone wall running
perpendicular to the wall behind which the enemy was posted,
delivered an enfilading fire, which threw them into confusion
and finally into a perfect rout. Their officers tried in vain to
rally them, while my men, cheered with the prospect of victory,
pressed on after the retreating foe, driving them down the
ravine on the north side of the pike, and halted not till our
colors were planted first upon the parapet of the rifle-pits in
front of the 19th Corps.
Mention of individual bravery would be superfluous, for both
officers and men did their duty. . . .
Some 400 men, recruits, who were never under fire before —
in fact never had arms in their hands except from Harper's
Ferry to this place — fought splendidly and behaved like vet
erans. It is due to the memory of Lieutenant Orrin B. Carpenter,
Oompany D, who was killed in the early part of the engage-

180 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
ment, to say that although suffering long from fever, and but
just able to walk, and having been repeatedly urged for weeks.
before to go to the hospital, invariably requested to remain
with his company, and when the battle commenced was found
in line with his men. He was shot through the heart by a
rebel sharpshooter while doing his duty and now fills a patriot's
grave. Peace be to his ashes.
Lieutenant Oldswager, Company M, just promoted from the
ranks, but three days before was killed by a cannon-ball
when we advanced upon the crest. He was a noble and brave
officer and never flinched from duty.
Captain Howard, Company E, was instantly killed by a
cannon-ball, the last shot that was flred from the rebel guns as
we made the last advance near the Middletown and Strasburg
pike, and when victory had crowned our efforts. He died as
all brave soldiers die, with his face towards the enemy, and will
long be remembered as one of America's bravest sons.
Thus far we have the great battle as seen by officers, or in
general terms. How did it seem to the enlisted man? Fortu
nately that query can be answered, for we have the stories of
observers written upon the spot and very soon after the strug
gle. The following letter explains itself :
THE BATTLE OP CEDAR CREEK.
Written on a Drumhead by one who was there.
The morning of October 19th was cold and misty; the fog
was so thick and impenetrable that we could not see across
our camp to distinguish a man. Just at the break of day I was
awakened by the firing of the 19th Corps and 8th Corps on our
front and left. We were ordered to immediately "fall in" under
arms, which we did. The regiment was formed in line; we
were then ordered to "break ranks," and go to our company
streets and pack up — strike tents as soon as possible. We soon
had all of our effects on our backs, and were in the ranks again.
By this time the fire had become hot and rapid, the balls were
whistling through our company and regiment. We faced to the
right and marched by that flank to the rear, and filing to the
right, halted and formed a line facing to the south. We were
here but a moment; we again faced to the right and moved back
to our first position, the double quick; halting here but a mo
ment we were moved back again to the position we had just
left; forming a line here we, being on an elevated piece of
ground, were ordered to lie down and let the storm of lead and
iron pass over us. Now the battle begins to get interesting;
the 19th and 8th Corps have broken and are flying across Cedar
creek, seeking protection of the 6th Corps. The rebels follow
with deafening cheers; already they have turned the guns

THB VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 181
which they have captured on to their former owners; they
hurl their shot and shell with deadly effect into the flying
columns of the 19th and 8th Corps. The rebels are frantic with
delight Ut the success ; but, alas ! they come to Sheridan's head
quarters, and looking over on the hill they see the cross of the
gallant 6th Corps; they did not expect this, but they now feel
confident that even the iron courage of the 6th will not be able
to stop them in their course of victory. They rush on after the
corps just routed; they meet the 6th; our regiment is in the
front line, and is the first to meet the foe. The order comes to
"rise and fire." Like one man the whole line rises up and pours
in its deadly fire, which stops the rebels and sends them stagger
ing back to the stone wall and protecting hill. Our boys send
up cheer after cheer, and keep up the most deadly fire ever
poured into a foe. But soon the order comes to "about face"
and "retreat"; this order is obeyed very reluctantly, for the
rebels are on our old camp-ground, and the boys feel enraged
at their impudent trespass; but casting our eyes to the left, we
see why we fall back; the rebels have flanked us on our left,
and already they pour in a deadly cross-fire on our lines; our
men are falling thick and fast on every side; we fall back to
a knoll, and again halt and pour in our fire. Here our color-
bearer, Thomas Paden, of Company M, was shot and killed.
Our colors fell to the ground stained by the blood of the brave
color-bearer, but they hardly touched the ground before they
were caught up by one of our Company F, and waved triumph
antly in the face of the foe. Here my tent-mate, Wilmer Stout,
was wounded. Firing three rounds after he was hit, he refused
help to go to the rear, and hobbled off from the field alone;
such is the material the 6th Corps is composed of; God bless
them. Again the rebel flanks us on the left ; again we are com
pelled to fall back slowly, fighting at every step, contesting
every inch of ground. The enemy has got range of us now,
and pours in such a hail of canister, shot and shell, the air is
boiling and seething with bullets; solid shot tear through our
ranks, and make fearful vacancies, which are quickly and
steadily filled up. The men move as steadily as if they were
on drill or parade, their comrades falling on every side; they
heed it not, but stubbornly fight and repeatedly ask to charge
the rebels. They do not know what defeat is; they do not
know how to retreat. Here one of our boys, Anthony Riley,
was shot and killed; his father was by his side; the blood and
brains of his son covered the face and hands of the father. I
never saw a more affecting sight than this; the poor old man
kneels over the body of his dead son; his tears mingle with
his son's blood. O God! what a sight; he can stop but a mo
ment, for the rebels are pressing us; he must leave his dying
boy in the hands of the devilish foe ; he bends over him, kisses
his cheek, and with tearful eyes rushes to the fight, determined

182 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
on revenge for his son. We continue to fall back slowly, fight
ing at every inch ; the musketry fire now slackens, and we rec
tify our alignment and fall back in splendid order. The ques
tion is being constantly asked, "Why are we retreating?" We
get no answer. We now reach the woods. Our ammunition is
exhausted, and has been for some time; we sent a detail for
cartridges, and the company is on the skirmish line. We skir
mish out and soon find the enemy. Our object accomplished,
we return to the regiment, which has moved to the left quite
a distance. I have omitted to say anything of our officers.
During the whole engagement they behaved themselves with
great courage .and gallantry. I wish to speak especially of
Captain Lamoreaux. No braver officer than he ever carried a
sword, no kinder-hearted man than he can be found; during
the whole fight he was at his post encouraging the boys; in
deed, it seemed he had no fear, and fighting gave him pleasure.
He was complimented on the field of battle by the adjutant gen
eral of General Wright's staff. Such an officer deserves the
respect and admiration of all his men, and our captain has all
of that.
The musketry has now ceased, but the artillery fire is very
brisk; the shell and canister are poured in very freely where
we are forming. We now converted hastily a rail-fence into
temporary breastworks; behind this we lay now, waiting the
attack of the "Johnnies." Here Lyman Coleman broke one of
his false teeth. . . . We had not long to wait here, for
they soon charged at the right of our lines. Just at this time
General Sheridan came up and rode along our lines; the tired
and battle-worn soldiers greeted him with rousing cheers. He
told us we would sleep that night in the same old camp-ground
we left in the morning; that we would soon gain all that we
had lost. This seemed to inspire every soldier with fresh cour
age, and all were anxious to charge the victorious rebels, and
we had not long to wait, for the "Johnnies" came down on our
right with their cat-like yells,that sounded more like demons than
men. Our boys returned yell for yell, and greeted them with a
deadly volley of musketry; in all my army experience I never
before heard such firing; the earth shook and reeled; the forest
trees trembled with the shock; no living man could stand such
firing as this. They were hurled back to their ranks bleeding
and broken, and now comes the order to charge. Our captain
said to me, "We are now going to charge. God only knows
who will come out alive." "Forward!" he commands in loud
tones. Up spring the boys, over the rail-piles we go; the cau
tionary command rings out, "Steady, men, steady." Oh! what
a sight to see these men press on in the face of death, nothing
daunted. We get outside of the woods into the open field, the
rebels pouring into our faces a deadly fire from behind the
stone wall, which has a deadly effect on our ranks; but they

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 183
close up and press on with cheers and shouts; we gain a hill in
front of the enemy; here we halt and pour in our fire. Our
company halts on a point of the hill, and of all the fires I was
ever under, I think that was by far the hottest; the air boils
and seethes with minie-balls and screeching shells and solid
shot and deadly canister; all tear and plunge through our ranks.
Our boys fall thick and fast; but look! the brigade is falling
back; the brigade wavers; I hear the voice of the gallant old
colonel from the tumult of the battle urging up them who are
falling back. He says: "Will you leave those boys to face the
foe alone? Back, you cowards." He succeeds in rallying them,
and we again move forward. The rebels fight well, but
we flank them, and they must give way. We gain a
position behind a stone wall and give them a cross-fire;
we fight hand to hand and man to man. Oh ! these are dreadful
moments. The rebels give way on the right; we capture the
battery which has played such fearful havoc in our ranks;
their whole line wavers; now they run. Hurrah for the Union!
Hurrah for old Abe's boys! Now begins one of the worst stam
pedes of the war. Talk about Bull Run; it is no comparison
to Cedar Run. The rebs throw away everything that would
impede flight and skedaddle for life. Our cavalry charge their
flank; they fall into complete confusion, every man for him
self. There is no rallying the gray-backed rebels of Jubal
Early. How my heart leaps for joy to see the glorious stars
and stripes following close on the heels of the flying rebels;
the plain is dotted with flags, the air resounds with the shouts
of the victorious "Yanks," which sound the death-knell of the
flying foe, which only stops and fires an occasional shot. The
prisoners pour in by regiments; wholetrainsof wagons and artil
lery fall into our hands at once. Darkness is now closing over
the scene. O night, you came just in time to save the remnant
of this once grand army. They make quick work in climbing
Fisher's hill; drivers abandon their teams, and all flee the
wrath to come. Early says: "Take to the mountains;" and to
the mountains they go, the worst whipped rebels the world
ever saw.
It is now dark. We are all ordered to our old camp; slowly
we wend our way, stepping over the bodies of friends and foes.
Now and then the groans of the dying and wounded break
the stillness of the night; a gloom hangs over the field of battle;
I come to the old camp; I come to the very ground where my
tent stood in the morning, but I now miss my tent-mate and
comrade. I feel lonesome, and utterly exhausted I lie down
on1 the ground. Victory was on our banner, but our comrades
living and dead mingle together on the ground. ... I was
very tired. I hadn't eaten anything all day, yet I could not

184 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
sleep, nor could I eat; I could but mourn for my poor comrades,
our shattered and bleeding regiment.
Morning comes at last; the sun rises on a horrible scene; the
dead cover the ground, the wounded have lain all night and
are now dying slowly. I will here come to the conclusion. I
forbear to bring up this scene again. Please excuse the poor
way in which I have described this terrible battle. Let your
prayers be for the speedy return of peace to this our distracted
country.
CHARLES L. SHERGUR.
Fought Oct. 19th, 1864.
From far away Missouri comes this account of personal
recollection of the fierce encounter by Stephen E. Hurtubise
of Company L:
Corporal Clark, Elisha Springer and myself were tent-mates,
and on the morning of the 19th of October I went to. a spring
for three canteens of water, about one-fourth of a mile from
our camp. It was daylight, but quite early. I met three or four
comrades whom I did not know, but who were on the same
errand as myself. We got the water and washed, as soldiers
often did, and while we were at that we heard a gun fired at
our left, and one man said: "It was on the picket-line," and I
replied, "What are they doing with artillery on picket?" Before
many minutes we knew that a fight was on, and we left for
our commands. When I got to my regiment, the men had
fallen in, but the guns were still stacked and the boys were
trying to get some breakfast, but the Johnnies prevented their
cooking anything. Bullets were flying in our camp, and the
order was to pack up and fall in. We were not long at that,
our line facing westward, and the fighting was southeast. As
soon as we were in line, we moved by the right flank in double
quick, and that brought our line east and west with the com
mand, "Halt! Front!" We were with our backs to the Johnnies;
not a good position to fight in, and when the officers saw what
they were doing, they countermarched us under fire to bring
us face to the fight. I may say right here that not many troops
would stand this and not break, but the old Ninth, rank and
file, was as good as any of them. Our brigade advanced, and
Captain William Wood, commanding our battalion, ordered
us to lie down, and a stream of wounded and demoralized troops
passed over us and went to the rear. It looked to me as if the
whole army was running to the north, and the Johnnies after
them. Then came the order to rise and to begin firing, but
after a round or two, some were panic-stricken and started to
fall back. I had an old Springfield musket, and it didn't go
off, so I tried to make it go, but fate was against me. While
I was holding it up to fire, a ball struck the stock and it was

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 185
worthless. At this moment, looking around, I found that my
self and two others formed the line of battle, our comrades
having forsaken us. It didn't take us long to get back where
the other boys were, but by his time the officers had stopped
the panic, and the firing was brisk on the right, but there was
some sort of commotion in our company, and I went to see
what it was all about. I found Lieutenant Howe, with a gun
across his body, barring the way of some men who wanted to
form a line further north, but he would not hear to it. I asked
him to give the gun to me, for mine was broken, and he com
plied. I made the boys mad by telling the lieutenant to let the
boys run if they wanted to, whereupon they turned upon me,
and said they were as good soldiers as I was, and would not
run. So we all stayed, and did our duty like men. No more
scare after that. We kept the Johnnies at bay for some time,
but we lost some good men right there. One of the Jackson
boys was killed by my side, and the other wounded, but the
line was firm. Captain Andrew J. Smith of General Keifer's
staff rode up to us with division colors and wanted our regi
ment to advance, but no order to do so was given by our officers.
He said he would give a dollar if we would tell him what we
were firing at; just then Corporal Kibbie of L Company was
hit in the arm, and he offered the captain five dollars if the
latter would tell who hit him. The officer did not take the
proffer, but rode away, thinking we were a hard lot. The boys
were as. cool as if on parade. My comrade, Sinclair, tried to
light his brier pipe, saying, "My breakfast was not very good
(he hadn't had any), and I don't know how long this foolishness
will last." He always had a cool head for a young man. About
this time we must have moved around some, for when I was
wounded and started for the rear with James Bell, we found
that rear in the hands of the enemy, and we were both taken
prisoners, and were carried over the field where we first formed
in line of battle, passing many dead and badly wounded. We
were taken to the Belle Grove mansion, where Sheridan had his
headquarters. Now the rebels were using it for a hospital. I
was left, but Bell was taken further. There were many
wounded rebel officers in the house, among them General Ram-
seur, who died the next day. It was 10 o'clock when I was
led in, and I remained there till Little Phil came and played
hob with the Johnnies, and I saw them run. About 3 P. M.
they came and carried off all the wounded officers they could
and left the rest for the Yankees to take care of, including
General Ramseur, some doctors and all wounded Yanks. I
was in the house when General Sheridan came in, at night,
and I saw him and heard him give orders about the wounded.
Excitement ran high with all at headquarters, but the rebels
were not quite so elated over their defeat as they were when
I was first taken to the house, when they said they were going

186 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
to run the Yankees into the Potomac. About 2 or 3 o'clock we
knew that something was going on towards the north, as the
noise of battle grew louder. We made up our minds that the
Johnnies were retreating, and we got all the boys we could
up stairs to see the fun. The excitement kept some of us up
who ought to have been down, myself among the rest, but we
did want to see the rebels run. The old lady who had charge
of the house told us we had better lie down or the enemy
would run us off, and she was right; for very soon a reb sharp
shooter came running in and ordered all Yankees who could
walk to go with him ; as he had a gun, the advantage was with
him. My hurt was in the head, but I wasn't walking just then,
and the old lady told him none of us could walk (God bless her
for that lie), and he opened the window to take a farewell shot
at our boys as they were in sight, following the fleeing enemy
mighty close. To open the window he had to set his gun down,
whereupon the good woman grabbed it and wouldn't give it up
until he promised to go down stairs and leave the house. If
women can't fight they know how to help those who do. But
the rebel did not get away, for I followed him and saw him cut
down by a 5th New York Cavalryman about 100 feet from the
house. He had stayed with us too long. The cavalryman I
happened to know, for I had seen him in Syracuse, and his
name was Ormsby. He may be living yet. There were dead
men around the house, some of ours, but mostly Johnnies. The
next morning as I was taken to Newtown, I saw the effects of
the battle, and a sorry-looking sight it was. Many hundred
wounded men of both sides lay on the ground in Newtown.
The next day the doctors said they died like sheep the night
before, for it was very cold during the night. Some folks say
the Battle of Cedar Creek was not a surprise, but if it wasn't,
then I don't know what a surprise party is. General and staff
were all at sea. When the sun shone on us, about 8 A. M.,
troops could be seen all over falling back in line and in mobs,
but at 5 P M. the rebels were running, and they looked like a
flock of dirty sheep. We looked badly enough in the morning,
but what a mob the Johnnies were in the evening! They threw
away all the blankets they had picked up in our camps in the
morning and some had rolls as big as a man's body. I saw
their officers try to stop them, but it was a stampede. Since the
war, I have seen a stampede of cattle, and it was like that of
the rebs at Cedar Creek. To say that I felt happy is no name
for the feelings I had when I saw them running. I was not
sure of living if I had remained a prisoner in their hands, for I
was badly wounded; my jaw was broken and a large minie-ball
was in my neck, but I forgot all my hurts in the joy of knowing
that the enemy was beaten. I never saw the Old Ninth after
that, and very few of the men that were in Company L, since
I was sent to the hospital in Philadelphia, and was discharged

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 187
therefrom in 1865. I owe my life to Little Phil and the good
ladies of Philadelphia, for he recaptured, and they nursed me
back to health.
STEPHEN E. HURTUBISE.

INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE.
Samuel F. Harris, then 1st sergeant of Company I, gives this
version of the beginning and progress of the battle:
The night before the fight I sent a private of my company,
Edward Dongus (sometimes called the Wild Dutchman), with
some money to the sutler's to buy something for breakfast.
Captain Hughes and myself were tenting together, and I told
Dongus not to cook his purchase till morning, and I would
help him. His reply was, "Ich cook him to-night, Ich haf him;
Ich wait till morning, Ich don't haf him." Accordingly he and
several others filled a large camp-kettle and cooked, I should
think, nearly all night, for very early in the morning he came
and pulled me out of the tent by my foot, and I went over with
him and secured a dish of the stew, and brought it back for the
captain; then returned and helped finish the kettle. We had
got through our repast and were sitting around the fire talking
and smoking, as soldiers are wont to do, when we were sur
prised to hear the report of two or three shots, apparently on
picket over by the 19th Corps, and this was quickly followed
by a volley. My first order was, "Fall in, company," and then
I told Captain Hughes. We soon had orders to strike tents
and to form line at the foot of the street, which we quickly did,
and I am almost sure Company I was first in line, with tents
struck, guns stacked and waiting orders; but we had not long
to wait, for the regiment was quickly in line of battle, and
soon began firing. It seemed to me as soon as the rebels would
flank us, we would fall back slowly and then give it to them again.
A good many from the 19th Corps who were surprised came
rushing through our lines. Some would stop, but a great
many kept on to the rear. Many in the 8th and 19th Corps
were panic-stricken, and could not be stopped. I think more
of the 19th than the 8th appeared along our lines. We continued
to fall back slowly, contesting every inch about two miles past
Middletown, where we threw up a temporary breastwork of
rails near the road, and had orders to cook our breakfast, for
very few had had my good luck, and it was pretty late for
this first meal, almost 12 o'clock. We were busy cooking when
General Sheridan came off the road just a few feet from my
left, and rode in front of the lines. His words, as I remember
them, were, "Boys, we will give them the worst whipping they
ever had. We have got them, and not a man lives to see to-

188 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
night without sleeping on his old camp-ground." This was all I
could catch as he rode by, his horse all covered with foam.
In a short time we had orders to advance, which we promptly
obeyed, passing through a small woods in our front to a stone
wall, where we made a short halt, but we soon advanced again,
firing as we went, and never stopped till night. Some of the
company went back to their old camp-ground, though some of
us stayed where the 19th Corps had been, but in the morning
we took our old positions.
The worthy sergeant had had an exceptionally good break
fast, but only the kindness of one of his company furnished
him a supper. Says J. R. Northcott, now of Toronto, Canada:
"The sergeant said, 'Well, boys, we shall have to wait till
to-morrow for something to eat.' I said, 'No, sergeant, I
have kept my haversack all day.' So we sat down and ended
the day with a good supper, which we enjoyed as only veterans
can." Mention has been made of the worthy behavior of the recruits
who had had little or no experience. Should any close student
of data study the appended company rolls, he will have occa
sion to wonder at the mortalities and casualties among the
recently joined members. Evidently the tyros did not like the
terms of reproach sometimes used towards them by unthinking
comrades, and so, needlessly, exposed themselves. The old
soldier hunts cover not only to take care of himself, but he
knows that a live fighter is a great deal better than a dead
hero. In his admirable history of the Vermont brigade, Col
onel A. F. Walker says: "Fighting experience, which went so
far in enabling a good soldier to accomplish the most with the
least possible danger." To stand up and take it has long been
a characteristic of the British people and their descendants,
but the backwoods fighter of America was just as brave and
a great deal more successful. B'rom a letter of one of the boys,
who came with the recent relay, the following is copied. Like
the good boy and soldier that he was, Alfred E. Stacey of
Company L was giving an early account of himself to the loved
ones at home: Near Strasburg, October 20.
I had a nice time of it yesterday, which was going into a
big battle and coming out just as well as I went in, except
being tired from climbing fences and backing up and charging
on the Johnnies. A ball went through Anth's (his brother)
cap, close to his head. He says he is glad he didn't grow any

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 189
taller, for half an inch more of stature would have laid him out.
The rebs dressed up in our clothes and relieved our pickets.
Then they made a rush on the 19th Corps and clubbed them
with their muskets. About 7 A. M. they were on to the 6th
Corps, and all the regiments went back but the Ninth, which
retired slowly, fighting step by step. The rebs flanked us, and
we got our wounds there. We went back three miles and
made breastworks of rails; it was here that General Sheridan
rode along. You should have heard the cheering. He got
here about 11 A. M., and at 3 we made the charge. We faltered
once, but rallied.
In his diary for the same period, he enters :
Of the five recruits, one, H. Hayhoe, is dead, and Barber and
George (his brother) are wounded. Over twenty killed and
wounded in Company L. We camped at night on the same
ground they drove us from in the morning. I tried to help
some of the rebs to quit the Rebellion. I took aim at nineteen
of them, besides, shooting without aim. Nearly all the rebs
were hit in the head, ours in the legs.
His brother, George, was shot in the thigh.
The casualties among his comrades, recruits, is in evidence
as to the care that older soldiers took of themselves. Three
out of every five in the regiment would have made an excep
tional record.
William H. Tucker, Company B, now of Monona, Iowa, thinks
no company was in the fight earlier than his:
I know our regiment stood in our original position till I had
fired forty rounds, and was on the next forty when we fell back,
and then we were nearly surrounded, yet we backed up in good
order and continued to pour the lead into the Johnnies. . . .
I remember that when the rebs came down out of the fog to
the little brook to get behind the stone wall, I shouted to my
comrades, "Shoot down that flag," and we shot it down four
times, in less than seven minutes, and then they lay behind the
wall to hold it up.
George H. Alpeter, Company L, of Syracuse, N. Y., after 2
P. M., was shot three times — in the right leg, above the knee;
right forearm, and just above the right ear; went first to the
field hospital, Newtown, and thence in an ambulance to Mar
tinsburg. Six live men started in that vehicle; only two
were taken out alive at the end of the trip. And yet after all
these punctures, Comrade Alpeter rejoined the regiment in
front of Petersburg. Truly there is a deal of wear in human
nature. '

190 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
George A. Pitcher, Company H, of Nunda, N. Y., writes that
he was one of nine members of that company who put up their
tents on the very same ground that they occupied in the morn
ing. Evidently the regiment was not a united body when the
day was done, but some recalled Sheridan's promise and wanted
to verify it. Pitcher was one of the recent comers.
Lieutenant Fish of Company B was again wounded and
carried from the field, many thought, for the last time; but
there was wear in the lieutenant yet. His company had fifteen
killed and wounded. Behind the chimney of Major Snyder's
quarters lay three dead rebels.
During the hottest of the morning's fighting, and when
wounded men were going or being helped to the rear, an officer
saw a man drop his gun and start back, and, fearing some
might go who had no need, he took the man by the shoulder,
saying, "Where are you going?" With a woeful face, the man
pointed to his head, and replied, "Oh, I'm hit, I'm hit." A
bullet had cut a hole in his hat, from which his hair instead of
his brains protruded. Lifting his hat the officer says, "Oh,
you are all right; it hasn't drawn blood;" whereupon the scared
man smilingly returned to the ranks and his weapon.
Adjutant Vincent A. Kenyon presents this graphic picture
of a scene in this October drama:
Acting Adjutant Philip Sturge of Company K was shot
through the neck and fell from his horse, and as his foot was not
released from the stirrup, he was dragged some distance in full
view of the regiment. He was supposed to be mortally
wounded, but he is alive to-day. When his foot was freed, the
horse galloped off wildly across the open plain or pasture to the
enemy, entering their lines, though he, apparently, had no in
tention of stopping, for more than a hundred rebels tried to
head him off, waving battle-flags, hats and guns in front of
him; but he dodged them all and made straight for our lines,
about a quarter of a mile to our left, amidst a shower of bul
lets. In a second, before any one could stop him, he had made
his way through our soldiers and, coming up behind Colonel
Snyder's cream-colored horse, taking his place upon the col
onel's left, came to a dead halt. In a moment Colonel Snyder
had another officer in the saddle. The whole affair did not take
ten minutes, nor even five, as he went on a keen run, and did
not stop nor change his gait till he reported for duty to our
colonel. Being a white horse, or nearly so, he made one of the
grand sights of the war; his head and tail were well up as he
ran to and from the rebel lines, and when in them, seeming to

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 191
be on inspection bent, he kept moving fast, as much as to say,
"No, you don't." The view was immense, not a tree nor a
hedge, and the lines were not more than a quarter of a mile
apart, firing into each other's faces almost. Upon one portion
of the line, the firing almost ceased as we watched the horse,
he being in full sight of the regiment from start to finish.
When he took his place again by the colonel's side, cheers
went up, and then the shooting began again.
General Early in his account of the battle says:
This was a case of a glorious victory, given up by my own
troops after they had won it, and it is to be accounted for on
the ground of the partial demoralization caused by the plunder
of the enemy's camps, and from the fact that the men under
took to judge for themselves when it was proper to retire. Had
they but waited, the mischief on the left would have been
remedied. I have never been able to satisfy myself that the
enemy's attack, in the afternoon, was not a demonstration to
cover his retreat during the night. It certainly was not a vig
orous one, as is shown by the fact that the very small force
with Ramseur and Goggin held him in check so long, and the
loss in killed and wounded in the division which first gave
way was not heavy, and was the least in numbers of all but
one, though it was the third in strength, and its relative loss
was the least of all the divisions. . . . There was an indi
viduality about the Confederate soldier which often caused
him to act in battle according to his own opinions, and thereby
impair his own efficiency; and the tempting bait offered by the
rich plunder of the enemy's well-fed and well-clothed troops,
was frequently too great for our destitute soldiers and caused
them to pause in the career of victory 
It may be asked why with my small force I made the attack.
I can only say we had been fighting large odds during the
whole war, and I knew there was no chance of lessening them.
It was of the utmost consequence that Sheridan should be
prevented from sending troops to Grant, and General Lee, in
a letter received a day or two before, had expressed an earnest
desire that a victory should be gained in the valley if possible,
and it could not be gained without fighting for it. I did hope
to gain one by surprising the enemy in his camp, and then
thought, and still think, I would have had it if my directions
had been strictly complied with, and my troops had awaited
my orders to retire.
This explanation was written by our opponent the year after
the close of the war, and is as good a setting forth as his side
could have. Whatever the cause, whether individuality of the
soldier or the fortune of war, terrible disaster overtook the Con
federates, and the to them bright sun of the morning became

192 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
at eve the gloomiest of objects, and though there were Con
federates in the valley to the end, they were of comparatively
little consequence; their power to seriously cripple had departed
with their losses on this 19th day of October.
Early lost 1860 killed and wounded with above 1200 pris
oners ; twenty-four cannon fell into our hands, besides the same
number, taken in the morning, recaptured by us in the after
noon; we retook all our lost ambulances and seized fifty-six of
his, along with many stands of colors ; in addition to all of this,
the cavalry captured and burned many baggage-wagons and
ambulances. So effectually had Early's artillery been captured
(he had lost fifty-six pieces in all) that when a new requisition
on the Richmond War Department was made, the order was
filled, but a waggish clerk directed the same to General P. H.
Sheridan, care of General Jubal A. Early, and it, too, in time,
reached its destination.
Nor did we escape without serious gaps in our own ranks.
The morning's attack had swept more than 1400 men into the
hands of the enemy, and these, kept in order, Early says were
the only men under his direction who were not in confusion
in the grand culmination. Indeed, he ascribes the lack of
more vigorous pursuit to the fact that the Union cavalry mis
took these prisoners, in the twilight, for a compact, battle-
ordered array of Confederates. We lost 569 killed, and 3425
wounded, a record calculated to distribute sorrow through
thousands of northern homes. In the final aggregates, it is in
teresting to note that our own regiment, in this battle for the
first time fighting together, lost more men than any other
organization at Cedar Creek. Sixty-four of our comrades were
killed or mortally wounded, and the other wounded brought
our total of casualties up to 208. Comparing other heavy artil
lery regiments, presumably as large as ours, we find the 1st
Vermont losing 24 killed and mortally wounded, with an aggre
gate of 107, including 20 missing. The 2d Connecticut foots
up 44 as above, with an aggregate of 190, including 60 miss
ing. No other regiment in the division, save the 10th Vermont,
needs more than one numeral to express the killed. In our
own brigade all the other regiments together do not equal
our loss. It is evident that there was reason for the boast,
made by the boys of the Ninth, that they stood up and fought,
and that the enemy appeared to have no difficulty in finding

THE VALLEY AND CEDAR CREEK. 193
them. No member of the regiment ever failed to accord the
highest praise to Lieutenant Colonel Snyder for the masterly
manner in which he led his boys on that day. He was coolness
and courage personified.
General officers as well as their men were much in the way
of bullets, and General Charles Russell Lowell of the 2d Mas
sachusetts Cavalry, in the battle commanding a brigade, who
had ridden so bravely in the charge at Winchester, here rode
to his death; Colonel Joseph Thoburn, a division commander
in the 8th Corps, and General Daniel B. Bidwell of the 3d
Brigade, 2d Division, 6th Corps, had gone down in the early
morning. Colonel J. H. Kitching of the 6th New York Heavy
Artillery was fatally wounded, while missiles found Colonel
R. S. Mackenzie and William H. Penrose, both commanding
brigades. General Ricketts of our own division was wounded
soon after the battle began, and was carried from the field;
General Grover of the 19th Corps was severely injured, and no
6th Corps man will ever forget the bloody face that our gal
lant Wright carried over the field from early morn until the
fight was fought and won.
The battle and the victory made Sheridan a major general
in the United States Army.
It is always difficult to give exact data concerning numbers
engaged. As a rule both sides, for obvious reasons, will reduce
their statements as much as possible; but the following compi
lation made by General Richard B. Irwin, historian of the 19th
Army Corps, may be considered as fair as any. He says:
"Wright commanded an effective force of not more than 31,000
officers and men of aU arms, made up of 9000 in the 6th Corps;
9500 in the 19th Corps; 6000 in Crook's command, and 6500
cavalry. The infantry probably numbered 23,000: Ricketts,
8500; Emory, 9000; Crook, 5500. Of these, therefore, the hard
fighting fell on 17,500. The losses in the 6th and 19th Corps
nearly all occurred in the early morning, being about 4500 ; the
two corps should have mustered 13,500 for the counter-attack
in the afternoon, yet the ground they then stood upon, from
the road to the brook, measures barely 7400 feet. With all
allowances, therefore, Sheridan can not have taken more than
8000 men into this attack. This leaves out Crook's men bodily,
and calls for 5500 unrepentant stragglers from the ranks of
Emory and Wright — one man in three. After all there is noth-
13

194

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

ing so extraordinary in this, but strange indeed would it have
been if many of these skulkers had come back into the fight
as Sheridan considerately declares they did.
"As to Early's force, the difficulty of coming to a positive
conclusion is even greater. General Early himself says he went
into the battle with but 8800 muskets. General Dawes, per
haps the most accomplished statistician of the war, makes the
total present for duty, 22,000; of these 15,000 would be infantry.
The figures presented in the Century War Book call for 15,000
of all arms. Of these 10,000 would be infantry."

FORD AT CEDAR CREEK.

CHAPTER XIX.
From Cedar Creek to Petersburg.

If possible the day after a battle is more trying to the nerves
than the fight itself. Then there is the excitement, amounting
almost to intoxication, to prompt the soldier to action, but when
the foe has fled and we seek out and bury our dead, then come
tears, the trembling lip, and the heartache, to last till its latest
throb. One man buries on the field his tent-mate. To one
northern home will go the sad news that husband and father

FROM CEDAR GREEK TO PETERSBURG.

195

are slain on the same day and now sleep side by side. For
days after the fight, along the stone walls, dark, clotted masses
proclaim the pools of blood where life was rendered.
Besides our own comrades, lying with their white upturned
faces, the ground is strewn with the dead bodies of our late
enemies once as quick as we, those who with exultant shout
dashed through our ranks on yestermorn. Ttuly they are
"Friend, foe, — in one red burial blent!"
While the cavalry hangs on the rear of the demoralized Con
federates, making their rout complete, to the infantry comes the
task of rendering back to earth the clay which till yesterday
had marched, camped, hoped and suffered with us. Their
bivouac is to be eternal; we are to take up the strife on the
morrow, respond once more to the bugle-blast, but
"No sound can wake them to glory again."
Their forms will be missed in the home circles, their names
will be preserved in the national archives, but as active par
ticipants in the battle of life, they have ceased and passed out
into the unseen.
Till November 9th some part of the regiment with the army
remains in camp near Cedar creek. The weather advances
from cold rain and frosts to snow and need of winter quarters,
and reveille comes earlier than ever.

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission. ROLL-CALL.

196 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
As it is evidently not the intention of the authorities to keep
us here all winter, but little provision is made for cold weather,
only now and then a mud and stick chimney at the end of a
tent to admit of a better fire. Fence-rails have become very
scarce, and sometimes are carried a mile. It is, however, no
life of ease and inactivity. There are wagon-trains to be
guarded, prisoners to be escorted, and no end of foraging to be
done. One of the first tasks to be performed is that of escorting
the captured rebels to a place of confinement.
Our regiment takes its part in escort duty, and on the 21st
Major Burgess starts in command of the 500 or more detailed
for this purpose. There are about 2000 of our captured foemen,
and it is a responsible matter to see them safely placed in final
custody. The route is through Winchester and Bunker Hill
to Martinsburg. Notwithstanding the Confederates' long ex
perience, many of them suffer from blistered feet. A part of
the trip is made through a drizzling rain. We reach Martins
burg in the afternoon of the 22d, and see the Johnnies safely
stowed on the train in care of a few men for each car. Then
the majority of the men return to our regiment, while the
guard goes on with the train to Harper's Ferry. There they
change cars, and rations are served. The orders are to use the
men civilly, but to guard them closely. On arrival in Baltimore,.
the rebels are placed in Fort McHenry. Late in the evening
they are taken thence and placed upon a transport, which pro
ceeded down Chesapeake bay to Point Lookout, just at the
mouth of the Potomac.
During the night one of the prisoners told Sergeant S. F.
Harris of Company I that there was a plan afoot to overcome
the guard, capture the boat, run it ashore and burn it, then to
make their way across the country to rebeldom. Something
similar to this had been done with the transport Roanoke. As
this prisoner asserted his intention of taking the oath of alle
giance whenever opportunity offered, there seemed to be some
ground of belief in his words. The commanding officer was
informed, and the cannon trained to sweep the decks and orders
were issued to be particularly vigilant. The break was to take
place at midnight, and at that hour there was a stir among
the prisoners, but they were ordered to lie down, under penalty
of being shot. They were not slow to comply, but whispers
were heard among them of traitors. Nothing further occurred

FROM CEDAR CREEK TO PETERSBURG. 197
before reaching Point Lookout, where those who did not go
"whirling up the valley" were turned over to the care of negro
troops, a fact which nearly broke the hearts of some of the
F. F. V.'s.
Early on the 25th of October, the men who had guarded
prisoners to Martinsburg and had been waiting there a couple
of days, started back with others in charge of a wagon-train.
They had gone only a few miles south of Bunker Hill when
they were assaulted by Moseby's* men, who were in consider
able force for them. However, the presence of artillery with
the escort afforded Colonel Moseby a much warmer reception
than he had calculated upon. Accordingly, he withdrew his
troops quite barren of trophies, though earlier he had captured
General Alfred N. Duffle, who was carelessly riding in a light
wagon in front of the train. Of this affair, Moseby's historian,
Captain James J. Williamson, Company A of the Rangers,
says : "The train was a large one, and had started from Martins
burg early in the morning with a guard composed of Currie's
brigade, together with the 5th Wisconsin Volunteers, the 9th
New York Heavy Artillery, and a force of cavalry made up of
several detachments, all under command of Colonel Currie."
Not being fully aware of the length and strength of the
train and escort, Moseby hurriedly disposed his force for the
assault: Chapman and Mountjoy with one squadron, to charge

*No part of the Confederacy had more nor more persistent and at
the same time more evasive guerrillas and bushwhackers than the
Shenandoah valley. It was the stamping-ground of Moseby, by far
the most noted of all the irregular gangs of fighters. His deeds and
those of his followers, however admired by the South, were scarcely
better than those of highwaymen. October 3rd Lieutenant John R.
Meigs, engineer on Sheridan's staff, was murdered near Harrisonburg,
within the Union lines. Por this everything combustible within a
radius of five miles was ordered burned, but the command was not
literally obeyed. In November Lieutenant Colonel C. W. Toiles, chief
quartermaster of the 6th Corps, and Captain Buchanan, 3rd Division
commissary, also General Inspector Doctor Emil Ohlenschlager, were
waylaid and shot. Captain Buchanan was murdered under circum
stances of peculiar atrocity. Such events prompted Sheridan to send
General Wesley Merritt through the passes and fastnesses of the Blue
Ridge, with the aim of completely destroying the resources and hiding-
places of these hard riders and cut-throats. The story of Moseby and
his men as told in Captain Williamson's "Moseby's Rangers" eclipses
the wildest flights of fiction.

198 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
in front, while he, with Richards' squadron, to assail the rear.
The cavalry were easily driven back, but the infantry proved
too strong, and when the artillery opened fire, Moseby drew off
his men, hoping that the cavalry would follow them up, so
that he could fall upon them at a safe distance from the in
fantry and artillery. But this they would not do. The escort
seemed to understand that their duty was to guard the train,
and they "stuck to it." Our own detachment was under the com
mand of Captain S. F. Lamoreaux of Company F.
The capture of General Duffie made some stir, and the event
was the subject of several dispatches, one of them being from
our late Colonel Seward, now brigadier general in command
at Martinsburg. Sheridan had little sympathy for the captured
officer,* saying, "He was captured by his own stupidity."
Our boys reached their old camp without further adventures
at sundown of the 26th; also Captain Squyer reported same
day. Meantime, on the 22d, the beautiful horse that had borne
Colonel Snyder so gallantly in the great battle, and that had
been to our boys what the white plumes of Henry of Navarre
were at Ivry, succumbed to his wounds, regretted by every man
in the regiment. "Do you remember the colonel's cream-col
ored horse?" is a query heard to this day where comrades meet.

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.

'Brigadier General Alfred N. Duffig was born in France in 1835; saw
distinguished service in the Crimea and in the Franco- Austrian War of
1859. Coming to America at the beginning of our Civil War, he early
took sides with the North. Governor Sprague of Rhode Island made
him colonel of the 1st Rhode Island Cavalry, and he was later promo
ted. During his captivity he was held in Danville, where so many of
the Ninth's men were confined. He was the leader in the attempted
break in December, 1864. After his parole in February, 1865, he was
sent to the department of the Missouri, and there served until the end
of the war. The last ten years of his life were spent as United States
consul at Cadiz, Spain, where he died in 1880.

PROM CEDAR CREEK TO PETERSBURG. 199
October 30th Companies A, G, C and D guard a train back
to Martinsburg, late Captain, now Major, Squyer in command.
He had been away ever since his wound at Cold Harbor, and
had his routine to learn over again.
The 27th Major Burgess and his prisoners' escort returned.
During these three weeks of stay on Cedar creek, though the
enemy was completely demoralized and his exhibition only
sporadic, guerrillas were common, and marauding raiders were
constantly expected, consequently there was little of the rest
that comes from freedom from anxiety. The round of parade,
drill, etc., was kept up notwithstanding drenching rains, which
were common.
November 1st, a foraging party went seven miles away and
secured honey and hogs and a quantity of hay, leaving one-
half ton for the old man owner, who sought it as an act of
charity. It is pleasant to record this retention of a heart on
the Federals' part. It is probable that no one item among
the valley products made a more lasting impression upon the
army moving along the Shenan
doah than honey. Ask any man
who served there what he remem
bers best, and the chances are he
will answer, "Honey." They be
came expert capturers of the
same, though the accompanying
picture shows what sometimes
befell the careless plunderer.
Martinsburg prices current are
. ... ~~ • From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
interesting: sugar, 25 cents per
pound; cheese, 40; butter, 60; milk, 10 cents per quart.
November 5th came the first snow-fall, but the camp-duty
goes on just the same; Companies H and L on picket; four men
and a corporal on a post. The vidette is thirteen rods away
from the post in the daytime and three rods away in the night.
The posts are about fourteen rods apart. The momentous pres
idential election of 1864 came on the 8th of November, just as
late as possible, and it is not improbable that the movement of
the Ninth was delayed till after the voting was done. Our men
gave Lincoln a large vote, as might have been expected.
On the 9th of November begins the falling back, moving at
9.30 A. M. and camping between Newtown and Winchester.

200

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

possibly four miles from the latter place. Except as exact
camp location was varied, we remained here till December 3d,
the change of place being caused by a desire to be nearer the
base of supplies. There are the daily foraging expeditions, and
the wonder is that there was anything left worth taking. Some
how or other the enemy managed to make a deal of noise
around us on occasion. On the 10th we change our position,
bringing our regiment on extreme right of corps, division and
brigade. The 11th sees the tents going up in systematic man
ner with carefully made chimneys and fireplaces. In the after
noon an alarm calls the boys out with orders to pack up; but
firing ceased after dark. The next morning we were stirred up
before daylight, form battle-line and march . to crest of hill,
where we carried rails and resumed our pristine calling of mak
ing breastworks. Lie behind them all day, and are relieved
at night. We fire off old loads in guns, return to camp and
get our suppers.

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission. FRYING HARDTACK.

This is our part in the cavalry skirmish of Newtown. Early,
hearing of Sheridan's withdrawal, fancies that the latter has
sent troops to Petersburg, and that there may be a chance for
him (Early) to retrieve his lost fortunes, but the reconnoissance
reveals the main force as strong as ever. It was on this occa
sion that Jimmy H, a character of Company A, though pretty
well known throughout the regiment, immortalizes himself.
At a fine, large spring a mile and a half from our camp, near

FROM CEDAR CREEK TO PETERSBURG. 201
that of the cavalry, we were accustomed to get water. On ac
count of the distance, one man would carry a large number of
canteens, thus saving many steps. It was Jimmy's turn to go.
He had fifteen or sixteen canteens. Later he came running
back bareheaded, minus all his canteens, his scant hair fairly
erect with terror, shouting, in the richest of brogues, "Begobs,
bys, the whole ribbel ahrmy is coinin'." All of us had to
double-quick in the direction of Jimmy's scare and spend the
night in throwing up breastworks, but the "ribbels" had been
whipped by the cavalry long before we could have been of any
service. On our way out we found all the canteens save one,
to which some thirsty soldier had apparently frozen, for be it
known that canteens in the army, like umbrellas at home, were
liable to sudden appropriation.
The performance of the 13th is similar, for we start at 4
o'clock again, and as before form in battle-line; get more rails
and repair works impaired by burning of last night. In the
afternoon 150 prisoners with two pieces of artillery, captured
yesterday, pass through. Though a detail of men is kept in
the breastworks, the majority of men are interested in trying to
secure food and maintaining regular camp-life. On the 16th
came a brigade review by General Seymour, division com
mander. Regiment complimented, for we number as many as
the rest of the brigade. During the days there is never-ending
breastwork making, and blisters come on soldierly palms,
much to the disgust of the possessors, since that result of work
ing for Uncle Sam is not popular.
The 19th, just one month from the great Battle of Cedar
Creek, in behalf of Company E, Major William Wood gave to
Lieutenant Colonel Snyder, after parade, a twenty-five-dollar
pair of spurs. The evident embarrassment of both officers was
greatly to their credit, their forte being deeds rather than
words. Sheridan's review of the 6th Corps, on the 21st, is a memor
able event in the memory of the men present. Though rain fell
all day, the review went on just the same. It was no ordinary
array of men which passed before one of the most remarkable
soldiers of the world's history. Man and men were well worthy
of each other. Neither Sheridan nor the corps had ever been
found wanting. Our regiment was on the extreme left of the
infantry. The cavalry go out on reconnoissance, and railroad

202 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
connections to Winchester are completed. The 22d, Lieutenant
Yard took fifty men from I and as many more from G and
started on a foraging trip over the hills, ten miles and back.
Loaded six wagons with corn and hay, besides three hives of
honey, lots of pork, beans, apples and apple-butter, all hidden
in the woods, but the boys smelled them out.
Thanksgiving day for 1864 came on November 24th, and the
good folks at home in the North had done their best to make
the day a pleasant one. They had sent a large quantity of
turkeys, geese and chickens for soldiers' consumption, but
somehow or other when toll has been taken at all the ports of
entry, the quantity left for the men was hardly adequate. The
latter always thought the quartermaster's department a very
hungry institution; at any rate there were not enough birds
to go round. Thus to the Ninth there came sixty turkeys and
geese, just one for every seventeen men, any four of whom
would undertake to devour the very largest of them and then
clamor for more. However, raffling for a Thanksgiving dinner
had not been unknown at home in the palmy days of peace,
and it did not take long to resolve upon lot-drawing for the
disposal of them. Accordingly a lucky few got the fowls, and
invited in whom they chose to help eat. The great majority
looked on in hungry envy, but the result to them was not "very
fillin'." Still we were not starving by any means, and all sorts
of dishes made up from commissary sources and from the
neighboring country, served up with recollections of home,
made the food part of the day pass pretty well. Some boys
bought out the rights of others and had their birds cooked by
the officers' servants. Here is the bill of fare of one mess got
from the sutler, and the cost of each item: 1 quart of pickles,
25 cents; 1 bottle of mustard, 50 cents; 20 cakes, 50 cents;
\ pound of raisins, 25 cents; these, with beef, beef's heart,
hardtack and coffee stayed the stomachs in blue till the turkey
came at nightfall from the lieutenant's cook. As it is the
chronicler's duty to record bad as well as good items, it must
be stated that whatever lack there may have been in solid
refreshment, there were unlimited quantities of liquids, to the
extent that the evening brigade dress-parade was said to have
been quite a spirited affair.
The 25th and 26th days saw considerable parties go out for
forage. They are obliged to go quite a distance from camp,

FROM CEDAR CREEK TO PETERSBURG.

203

twelve miles or thereabouts, the intervening country having
been so thoroughly scoured. The usual plunder is found,
though frequently the best items are hidden in the woods. One
party thus comes upon a quantity of honey and apple-butter.
A hive of bees has no terror for the adept forager. The eleven
wagons are brought in, well loaded with all sorts. Still we are
not wholly obdurate, and a guard is placed in one house at the
owner's solicitation, and at another the effusive gratitude of
the mistress thereof is blush-provoking to the captain, whose
modesty is only equaled by his gallantry. The manner of cook
ing our meat was not the home way, but it was effectual.

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission, BROILING STEAK.

It is the second day's trip that a party of guerrillas swoop
down on a squad of our men, largely of Company B, and includ
ing Lieutenant Fish's colored servant Sam, and gather them
in. After relieving the soldiers of their blue uniforms, and leav
ing Confederate gray in exchange, they made off, taking Sam
with them, a fact for which they were subsequently sorry, for
the "colored gemmen" succeeded in paying them off by getting
them all into the Union lines only two days later. Perhaps
the loss of Surgeon Sabin's horse, ridden on this occasion by his
orderly, afforded as much regret as any part of the event. This
same raid is described by another, who says: "The rebels set out
to hang the colored servant at once. They even had a rope

204 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
about his neck, but finally concluded, if saved, he might be of
some service to them. The enemy hung around so closely that
foraging was risky, but two boys who had been on guard de
termined not to return to camp empty-handed. So they went
off on their own hook. The first house they entered had three
big masculines, presumably rebels, consequently one of us stood
guard while the other ransacked, finding only a little hoecake
for his pains. The main party had found a big jar of butter,
covered by a brass kettle, hidden in the top of a fallen tree,
but we seemed unlucky. However, on leaving the house, we
saw two horses feeding in a field near some woods. We debated
whether the riders might not be near by, and a rolled Union
overcoat was on one saddle; but I wasn't going back to camp
with nothing to show for my trip, so I just went in and took
one of the steeds. When T. saw I was not molested he took the
other, and didn't we ride back to camp in style! for the horses
were no old plugs, but real fine young beasts. They were
mighty useful, too, for we had to carry water some distance;
but a horse-load of canteens just helped out amazingly. No
trouble in getting forage for them. When the time came to
break camp and start for Washington, I just 'drew7 a small
open wagon and loaded in no end of traps belonging to the
boys and 'rode to the station kiting. I had expected to turn
the equine loose when through with him, but a native offered
me his watch for the whole outfit. I jumped at the trade, and
then sold the time-keeper for f 15. T. let his beast run, not be
ing so lucky as I was. I wasn't finding any fault with war
just then. As I sat on the top of the car, I saw some of the
boys holding the attention of a sutler in front, while the rest
of the party were stealing from the rear all they could reach."
Is there any wonder that sutler's prices were high?
Camp routine, dear to the officers, disliked by the men, fin
ished out the month and made a beginning of December, though
our departure is evidently at hand, since the 1st Division left
on the 1st, and on the 2d came the orders for us to be ready
to follow.
Camp is broken on the morning of the 3d, and we march
four miles beyond Winchester, where we take the cars a little
before noon. Proceed thence to Harper's Ferry, whence we
ride as the exigencies of railway service will permit to Wash
ington, getting there in the early morning of the 4th. Evident-

FROM CEDAR CREEK TO PETERSBURG. 205
ly the government is not sending us on a pleasure excursion,
for our stay in the Capital is very brief, only long enough to
get down to Arsenal dock and to eat our breakfast. The trans
port Hermann Livingston is in waiting, and we are off before
noon. Our boat is a rapid one, easily passing all others. Once
more we are afloat and passing the scenes made familiar during
the preceding two years and more. Here at our right is Alex
andria, with no end of recollections of past days there, and at
the left rises Rozier's bluff, with Fort Foote surmounted, the
product of our hands. Again we note Mount Vernon, Fort
Washington and Belle Plain Landing, and night shuts down
upon us still ploughing our way towards Petersburg and
Grant's relentless grasp. At daybreak we pass from the Chesa
peake into the James, seeing Fortress Monroe at our right, but
we do not stop, steaming by the several vessels bearing other
parts of our division. It is 2 P. M. when we reach City Point,
and towards night we land, march a mile or so, and camp.
It is about sundown on the 6th that we take a train for the
front. Our return is quite in contrast from that made in the
dust of the preceding July, en route to our summer and autum
nal quarters. The ride is soon ended, and we are quickly at
Meade's station, where we alight, and under direction seek the
place reserved for us. Scarcely more than half as many men
return to Petersburg as left in the preceding July. The months
had sadly ravaged our ranks. The railroad laid by Grant for
military purposes was very useful, though it violated nearly
all the rules of railroad engineering. It was laid on the surface
of the ground with little or no ballasting, and still less grad
ing, so that in places both ends of a train might be visible
while the middle was lost in an intervening valley. The sta
tions bore the names, as a general thing, of prominent com
manders, and were as liable to be moved as those soldiers them
selves.

206

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

CHAPTER XX.
Petersburg Through March, 1865.
Though we had been in front of Petersburg before, there is
very little to identify our surroundings. We march past the
headquarters of General Meade, and halting near, we are told,
the lines held by the 5th Corps, we lie as best we can till morn
ing, the 7th of December, when it appears we have relieved
the Maryland, or 3d Brigade, 2d Division of the 5th Corps, and

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865. 207
have fallen heirs to their winter quarters. If for a few mo
ments we congratulate ourselves on having houses ready made,
we are doomed to early disappointment, for it seemed that
these structures were too near the breastworks, and we were
ordered to tear them down, and move back 100 feet, so that
none should be within 200 feet of the works. Of course this
order does not come without a deal of turning round, having to
move no less than four times. We are at the extreme left of
the line, and as our orders to destroy and move back came
late, we have another cold night under the open sky.
The morning of the 8th we are astir early, and under arms,
for the 2d Battalion, Companies A, C, L and H, with K
added, is ordered to Fort Wadsworth, five or six rods from
Weldon railroad, and very near the famous yellow house,
all under the command of Major William Wood. At
the right there is heavy picket-firing, but all is quiet
in our immediate front. The fort has four Parrott guns and
four light brass twelve-pounders. Those who did not go to the
fort had to get behind the breastworks. Water froze in can
teens, and at least one man claims to have had his foot frozen.
It is evident we have not yet reached any statu quo location,
for Company L moves several rods away from the fort, and the
1st and 3d Battalions are off with the rest of the corps to help
the 5th and 2d if needed, on their Southside railroad venture,
in direction of Stony Creek.
The fort is to be garrisoned each night by twenty-five men
and one officer. The boys who remain in camp and are still
shelterless work on new quarters. There was more moving
with new locations, each one,. if possible, being worse than the
last. For the sake of exercise (?), there was a double-quick
march to brigade headquarters. For a rarity soft bread was
drawn. To crown the happenings of the day came a severe
snow-storm. Complaints about quarters are numerous, and the
10th records nine changes of position, some getting back to
their former quarters, or where they had been, only to find
everything stripped, chimneys torn down, but in the midst of
snow and sleet the snow is scraped away, the water is bailed
out, and camp is again made.
It has been a long and tedious day. We were under arms at
5.15 A. M., and so continued till after sunrise. Fully three
inches of snow were covering us when we awoke, and those

208 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
who lay on the ground through the night, as the morning
dawned, saw in every direction little snow-covered mounds
which under the influence of the bugle-blast developed "boys
in blue." Some thought they saw reminders of Marshall Ney's
bivouacs in the terrible retreat, though some of the French
slept ne'er to waken. Our boys revived speedily. We marched
half a mile and formed in line; there was brisk skirmishing in
front, and for a time it seemed as though there was business
in store for us. However, it all subsided, and we move back
as above. Camp in a mud-hole on the 11th, and what a time
to introduce recruits to army life, but they came and had to
take things as they found them.
Work on winter-huts is brisk. For more than a week the men
have the privilege of trying to make their quarters endurable,
aside from the regular round of guard and garrison duty. It
seemed that the army was as well settled as it could be under
a commander who never rested. "The all summer line" was
extended into the winter, and only Omniscience knew how
much longer it might continue. All that the Book of Fate
revealed was the page before us, and in that we read work of
some kind for every day. There were fatigue, drill, parade and
the ever-recurring round of picket. All have to take turns in
the fort, going in before day and staying till after sunrise.
Then, too, there is guard-duty every other night from 9 to 1, or
from 1 to daybreak. December 18th 100 guns are fired from
Fort Sedgwick* in honor of Thomas' victory at Nashville.
Our foe was just as alert as ourselves, and stagnation was not
one of our lurking dangers.
In making our quarters as comfortable as possible all sorts
of ingenious devices were had. Tin cans were sought; solder
is melted therefrom, that with the pieces eavestroughs might
be made; placed with the proper slant they were effectual. The
weather was of all sorts : extremes of cold, followed by rain and
mud. Seldom was the physical man under greater strain, yet
it must have been harder for the rebels than for us, since the
most of them were less used to frigid temperature than we.
The exigencies which governed our food supply no man can
understand. Here if anywhere rations should be regular and

*Fort Sedgwick was generally known as Fort Hell, and its opposite
Confederate fortification, Fort Mahone, as Fort Damnation.

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865. 209
ample. Foraging was out of the question, for the region had
become a Sahara, but hunger was a frequent sensation, and
when, for some reason, known only to the authorities, the
sutler was forbidden to sell us supplies, what was there left
for us to do but to raid him? A sutler raid has a distinct
place in army memories, and that of December 20th, when the
2d Battalion went in for something to eat, was a busy occasion.
Of course profit and loss compel the sutler to charge still higher
prices for all losses thus incurred. It did seem rather hard
for the much-abused sutler to have to be a scapegoat for the
commissary department.
It has a gruesome sound, but the chief diversion of the latter
part of 1864 was the attending of hangings in the vicinity.
Disciplinary rigor had advanced till death for desertion was
actually inflicted. Both the 2d and 5th Corps had several ex
hibitions. In one case December 23d, in the 2d Corps, three
men who had gone over to the rebels and had been recaptured,
stood upon the same trap and went down at once. It was
claimed that one of them had been a famous bounty-jumper,
having gone through the to him farce of enlistment no less
than sixteen times. Three had been hanged the preceding Fri
day, and two more followed the next. The traditions of hang
man's day were preserved even in war-time.
Those whose rations of sugar do not satisfy have to pay 25
cents a pound at the sutler's. Candles to help shorten the
night are 12J cents each. Stationery is expensive, too, a quire
costing 40 cents and a bunch of envelopes the same. A pair of
government socks wear out in two days. The news of Sher
man's capture of Savannah made the boys about wild, and we
shouted till we were hoarse, the wise ones being sure that we
should be home for July 4th.
Christmas comes on Sunday, and has little to distinguish it
from other days. Few dainties grace our tables, but hunger
and health make substantials taste good. A major writes:
"Dine on pork, potatoes, bread and coffee, good enough for a
king." No plum-pudding or roast goose in that. While some
play seven-up for the scant stationery given by the Christian
Commission, there are those who piously eschew cards and take
comfort in Beecher's Sermons. The year went out with a bang,
for as if to compensate for long inactivity, the Johnnies, or
several hundred picked men of them, move on our picket-line
14

210 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
at 5.30 in the morning. At first they break through, but we
rally quickly and drive them back. Two of our men are killed,
and twenty or more are captured. Several also are wounded.
John Colligan of Company K, whose corporal's chevrons are
almost new on this last day of 1864, tells the story of that
eventful occasion. "There were captured with me Samuel P.
Gray, Michael McKnight, Andrew Jackson and Barney Riley.
We were taken at about midnight, when it was as dark as
pitch. The rebels made a raid in force on our picket-line. It
is claimed that a Wisconsin company broke and let ¦ them
through, so that they got between our lines and the camp.
While we were defending in front they assailed our rear. I
had charge of a post with seven men, having been on duty con
tinuously for seventy-two hours with no relief. After capture
we were marched to a stockade between Petersburg and Wel
don railroad, where we were searched and robbed of all the
valuables we had. Then we were taken to Petersburg, kept
in hunger and cold for several days, and thence were sent to
Libby prison in Richmond, where we suffered all sorts of pri
vations. After several days in Libby, we were transferred to
Pemberton prison, also in Carey street, where we remained till
February 14th, 1865, when we were sent down the James river
for exchange, getting back to the regiment in time for the end."
About this time some who had been extremely careful of
their precious selves began to venture back to the regiment.
The sequel showed that they came too soon. Colonel Snyder
goes home on a furlough. 1865.
During January the Ninth remains in quarters as in Decem
ber. Forts Keene, Fisher and Wadsworth seem to be the
nearest fortifications. Fifth Corps is a mile back of us, and
the Engineer Corps between. On the left of our corps is the
2d, and the 9th is on the right. Quarters are made of poles
with tent-coverings, 10x6 on the ground, 5 feet high. Weather
varies from ice cold to warm sunshine. On the 6th a deserter
from the 4th New Jersey in the 1st Division is shot.
On the 7th of January our division commander, General Tru
man Seymour, addressed a letter to the corps authorities sug
gesting the formation of a 3d Brigade, saying there were 4500

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865.

211

men in the division, and of these the 9th New York had 1140
enlisted men. He would make a brigade of this and one of
the other regiments. Evidently his proposal did not find favor,
for nothing more was heard of it. Were such a plan ever to
have been consummated, it was when the members were twice
as many. At any rate we are grateful that our connective
corps, division and brigade numerals were never disturbed. We
went to the front practically 2000 strong, had received five or
six hundred recruits, and yet we number now only about 1200;
thus our stay in active service had cost us fully as many men
as we then had. January 9th the rebs made a raid on the 2d
Division, but are repulsed. During
the entire month there is a steady com
ing in of rebels who are hungry, and in
many cases all but naked. During the
month a large number of men wounded
at Cedar Creek reported for duty. Al
ternating rain and frost heave the
breastworks so that in some places
they fall in. Consequent repairing fol
lows. New abatis are made and old
ones repaired. Boys are not saints by
any means. Some get drunk, thrash
round, and then pay the penalty by
guard-house and extra duty. These
rolling stones gather no moss. Some
wore wooden overcoats, like this in the
picture. The country in front is not exactly
park-like in its make-up. In some
places it is very swampy, but duty has
to be done just the same, mud or dust.
On the 11th at 4 A. M. a vidette fired
his gun, and at once the whole picket-
line deployed as skirmishers. Result,
four badly scared Johnnies came in, all
intelligent young men, but poorly clad and almost barefooted.
January 14th David H. Stone of Company F, who had just
been promoted to second lieutenant, was accidentally killed
by the discharge of a revolver in the hands of one of his friends.
The bodv was sent home for burial. A friend writes : "Lieuten-

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.

212

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

ant Stone had but recently received his commission, and had
just been detailed as an aid on the staff of Major General
Wright, and was to report the next morning for duty. He had
been out all day on duty and had come to his quarters at night,
and was seated at his camp-table eating his supper. During
the day a deserter had been returned to the company, and L.
H. Bigelow, then 1st sergeant of the company, had taken a
revolver from the returned prisoner; the revolver was of un
usual pattern, and Bigelow was exhibiting it to Lieutenant
Stone, and explaining its mechanism, when in handling it, it
was discharged, and the bullet entered the body of the lieo-

PS^

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
WINTER QUARTERS, OUTSIDE.

tenant, producing a fatal wound. He was taken at once to
the field hospital, and died during the night. This was in front
of Petersburg. Lieutenant David Stone was one of God's noble
men, a Christian, a gentleman, and every inch a brave, noble
soldier. His memory is cherished and held sacred by every
member of the company, and many of the men in Company F
owe much of their success in life to the noble and pure influ
ence of the life of David Stone. He left a true, loyal-hearted
wife, and a sweet baby daughter, in the city of Auburn, N. Y."
January 17th 100 guns for General Terry's victory at Wil-

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865.

213

mington, N. C; capture of Fort Fisher. January 18th at 5 P.
M. 100 Company I men with Lieutenant Yard made new abatis
in front of works ; have to carry brush a mile through a swamp
sometimes knee-deep. Some fear General Seymour will run
the Ninth into the ground. By the end of the month, the men
were in comfortable quarters, 10x7 and 5 feet high, shelter-
tents for roof, fireplaces and stick chimney; burn pitch pine
four feet in length. Lieutenant  thus describes his
cabin : "I got straight pine logs, eight to ten inches through, and
six feet long, split them, dug a trench six inches deep; set

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
WINTER QUARTERS, INSIDE.
them up endways, stockade fashion, close, flat side in. Hut
ten feet long, eight feet wide, gable with slope, plastered cracks
with mud; said mud was easily made by digging a small hole
in the ground, pouring in a pail of water and then stirring in
the clay just thrown out. It was easily daubed with a stick.
If rain washed it out, why, just stir up and daub again. It was
covered with shelter-tents, no window needed; light enough
from above; bed in one end and made of pine boughs; wood
to burn under the bed ; door approach made of hardtack boxes.

214 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Fireplace was one side, table opposite also made of boxes.
Wooden pegs for hanging things; bookcase over table, floor of
split logs."
It was towards the end of the month that General Grant
ordered that no newspapers should be allowed to come into the
army for one week. He must have been afraid of picket ex
change, not caring to have the enemy know his plans.
February 1st. It is scarcely past midnight when orders come
to get up, pack up, and be ready to march at any moment. Five
days' rations are drawn, and all the fuss terminates in a bri
gade dress-parade at 3 P. M. All sorts of rumors are circulated
as to the reasons for such unseemly hours, one of which was
that we were to join the 5th Corps in a raid to the Southside
railroad, twenty-five miles to the point we were to strike. A
soldier in L, helping to repair Fort Wadsworth on the 2d, re
marks on the numerous graves, many bodies being near the
surface. The rain washes out the head of a man. Says the
company shanties are built over some of them. Rather a hard
place for nervous and superstitious men!
He records that Wednesday's early rising was incident to a
sudden move of the enemy on our right. Learned from one
of the rebels on picket that peace is in sight. On the 5th
marching orders received again, and we see the 5th Corps pass
ing by all the morning. The 1st Division of the 6th started at
4 P. M. There has been heavy firing all day, and many wounded
from the 5th Corps are brought in. We do not get away till
nearly midnight, when we march two or three miles to the right
and remain in line till 5 A. M.; then we unbend till 5 P. M.,
when we return to the camp of the 23d Pennsylvania of our
1st Division. We stack guns, and some of our comrades are
permitted to go into tents with the Pennsylvania boys. Rain
and snow on the 17th. The next day returned to the old camp,
but not for any quiet, for we were hardly in place before we
were ordered out, then directed to make ourselves comfortable
till morning. Sure enough on the 9th at daylight we march
away to the lines held on our left by the 2d Corps, 1st Division,
these men having gone still further to the left.
We arrive in time to see the departing soldiers demolish
their quarters. WTe lie around all day, and camp on the ground
in the deserted place. The 10th beholds us reconstructing
quarters where the 2d Corps had been, and for the next four

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865. 215
days we work on the quarters. Pickets and videttes are very
near each other, and trading of tobacco for coffee is a very
common thing. The Johnnies proclaimed themselves half
starved. So amicable are the relations that rebs and Feds cut
wood from the same log. Company L was detached from the
regiment and sent to Battery Lee, three-quarters of a mile from
Fort Fisher, on the 10th. In the evening went to Patrick's
station for the guns, six thirty-pound Parrotts; they having
come on platform cars. It took ten horses to draw the guns to
the fort. Got them up at 3 P. M. There were also six Cohorn
mortars just back of the picket-line. Ten rebels came in to
day. On the 12th, thirty-six rebels, including one orderly ser
geant, came in.
Here is a graphic description of the way red tape, routine
and military management succeeded in getting a little fatigue
duty done: "At daylight we were drawn into line, right-dressed
and counted in the company street. We stand here half an
hour, and then march to regimental headquarters. The fore
going is repeated here, and then we are marched to brigade
headquarters and again repeat. Our next act is to move a little
distance to get out of the way of the pickets, who are getting
ready to march out. After waiting an hour and a half, we go
through right-dressing and counting once more. Thence we
march to the fort and repeat the familiar performance. Finally
we enter the fort and get the tools to work with. Such is the
usual round."
Our chronicler was evidently in a grumbling humor, for he
continues, "Although military tactics and everything connected
therewith are supposed to be conducted with scientific pre
cision, yet in maneuvering, there is the greatest awkwardness;
in engineering, the greatest bungling; in regard to the ex
penses, there is in every department the greatest extravagance
and waste; the strength and patience of the men are wasted
in useless marching and countermarching; their time squan
dered by keeping them out, from daylight till dark in all sorts
of weather, to do two hours' work, and then they sleep on the
frozen ground in midwinter ; by employing them, day after day,
in building ornamental fences and screens around officers'
quarters; in maneuvering them in brigade drills and dress-
parades, neither of which is of any use on the battle-field, and
then at night, they have to get down on their knees and creep

216 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
under three square yards of cotton sheeting, and lie or sit the
long dark night on the cold ground."
The 11th there was a flag of truce, and Yankee curiosity was
naturally piqued, but they must wait for Northern papers to
learn the reason, though it was less than half a mile away.
The next day General Meade and staff rode by Battery Lee,
where engineers are putting in a bomb-proof. Another flag of
truce explains itself. The rebels want to know what became
of one of their colonels wounded at Hatcher's Run. He is in
hospital, City Point. Ninety deserters came in to-day.
Rebel pickets are 500 yards away from the fort. Desertion
from the enemy is the rule, and the half-starved men are evi
dently much discouraged. The same is true all along the line.
They are glad to change from their rations of one pound of
corn bread and one-quarter pound of bacon per day to our
larger and better bill of fare. The dog express will ever be
memorable in this winter's annals, since a certain canine of
strictly impartial sentiments had been taught to respond to a
whistle from either side. Thus with a can of coffee suspended
from his neck he would amble over to the Johnnies, and when
they had replaced coffee with tobacco he would return in
obedience to Union signals, intent only on the food reward both
sides gave him. Perhaps it was the following order included
in one consignment of coffee which brought in the mules and
wagon and many deserters with their entire outfit:
Headquarters, Army of the U. S.
In the field, Jan. 4, 1865.
Special Order No. 3 :
Deserters coming in will be sent to their homes or to any part
of the Northern states on taking the oath, or will be employed
in commissary or quartermaster departments. Horses and
mules will be paid for. U. S. GRANT, General.
A lieutenant coming in with ten men excused the absence
of his 1st sergeant, who, having just received $600 in Confed
erate money, wanted to get rid of it, but he would come the next
time he was on guard. A captain when asked why he came
replied that it was about mustering time, and as all his men
had deserted, he thought he had better come over and muster
them. General Lee is confidently expected soon. So many cap
tives are held that the rear line of forts is devoted to them.
Train-loads are sent to City Point. One writer describes the

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PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865. 217
prisoners as "barefooted and ragged; the awfullest looking
men one ever saw. They say the whole rebel army is in the
same condition, and that all would come if they had the
chance." Guards are sent out with the rebels when they go
out to cut wood lest they desert to our side. On the night of
the 24th eleven men came in with a six-mule wagon, which had
been sent out for fuel. It found its way to Meade's head
quarters instead of that of the enemy. So frequent have deser
tions become that the rebels have forbidden further trading.
February 21st, 100 guns for the fall of Charleston. Generals
Wright and Seymour reviewed the division on the 22d, and the
guns were fired in honor of Washington's birthday.
February 24th, 100 guns for the fall of Fort Anderson, N. C.
In the regiment itself there was not a graduate of West
Point, nor had we in active service such a one, but our Division
Commanders Ricketts and General Truman Seymour* were
from the Point; of the former no soldier ever had aught but
words of praise; the latter was a martinet of the most pro
nounced character. He had not won particular honors in the
war, though he had served in the Army of the Potomac, South
Carolina, Florida, and was after Ricketts' wounding at Cedar
Creek with us.
His proper place was the command of a military school, or that
of a post in times of peace. On the last day of February he
rode through the lines, and in passing our regiment his eagle
eye chanced to rest on a light-colored hat worn by one of our
boys; the traditional red rag could not have been more excit
ing to the bovine beholder than this object was to his military
sight. He returned to his headquarters two miles away, and
thence despatches an orderly to our colonel with the most
stringent orders against further infraction of discipline under
severe penalties. He had already ordered the arrest of every
man who should shout "hardtack," as men sometimes did when

*Truman Seymour, born Burlington, Vt., September 25th, 1824;
West Point, class of 1846; was in Mexican War; taught drawing in
Military Academy 1850- '53; was in the Seminole War in Florida, and
assisted in defense of Fort Sumter in 1861; as stated he served in sev
eral departments during the war; was captured in the Wilderness and
came back in time to succeed General Ricketts. He was retired from
active service in 1876, living thereafter abroad till his death, which
took place, October 31st, 1891, in Florence, Italy.

218 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
short of rations. Also he had directed the reduction to the
ranks of every non-commissioned officer who should appear on
parade without his chevrons, though he very well knew there
was no material in camp for the making of them. Obedience
was secured by our fishing some old red flannel, somebody's
cast-off underwear, out of the mud, and improvising the thin
red lines. Corporal S  , as he sewed the distinguishing stripes
along the legs of his trousers, declared he had never realized
before how long those same legs were nor the number of
stitches required. However deft his hands in managing the
great guns, evidently his fingers were not adapted to so small
a weapon as a needle. Again caps must be worn, though many
had good serviceable and warm felt hats. Shoes must be worn,
though we have in many cases more expensive and certainly
more comfortable boots. There was fun, too, though at times
somewhat questionable perhaps, as when one young man had
a freak of dressing up in woman's attire. The uproar he created
was more creditable to his disguise than to the character of
his comrades.
March in its beginning offered very little change from Feb
ruary, though we knew that spring would mean active work
for us, just as much as though we had been at home on the
farm, where even General Seymour wouldn't care whether we
wore boots or shoes, or went barefoot. The general flight of
the enemy to our lines continued, and if we had been content
to remain long enough, we might have received them all with
out the firing of a gun. They came singly, in squads, and some
times it would seem in companies. One entire picket-post ran
in, leaving only the lieutenant, and as he had no gun he could
not fire on deserting comrades. Soldiers are generous always,
and on the 3d Company B gave $80 for a sword to Sergeant
Hoag, who had been promoted 2d lieutenant, and during the
month the men subscribed liberally to a monument for General
Sedgwick, though the gallant officer had lost his life before
we joined the corps. On the same day a private gave a dollar
and a half for a diary that at home might have cost fifty cents.
The 7th brought a brigade review by General Meade, with
General Keifer accompanying. March 9th General Meade and
staff rode along the lines. Evidently the commanding general
intended to leave nothing to chance. Again on the 10th came
a brigade review; possibly this was for the edification of sev-

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865. 219
eral carriage loads of ladies. For half an hour some soldiers
stood in mud and water over their shoes, and they hoped the
pleasure imparted was commensurate. The next day at divi
sion headquarters, one Kelly of the 67th Pennsylvania was shot
for desertion. It was said that he had deserted twice and had
jumped seven bounties. A priest administered to him the con
solation of religion. A squad of eight men fired, and seven balls
pierced his breast within a three-inch space. The brigade band
played a dirge. While the affair was hardly diverting, it was
instructive. General Meade witnesses brigade dress-parade on
the 12th. About this time Captain Freeoff, who had been with
Company M so long, came back to command his old associates
in I, and his boys made him happy by the gift of new shoulder-
straps. A flag of truce on the 13th. Sutler ordered to City Point the
next day, with his goods ; evidently the authorities want all non-
combatants out of the way. Marching orders are received. In
the forts there are great activity and alertness. March 15th
Corwin's Battery relieved in Fort Welch. Dress-parade the
16th is broken up by a sand-storm; then followed rain. The
18th General Keifer issues stringent orders as to "lights out,"
and on the same day, Brigadier General Nelson S. Miles of the
2d Corps, who will command the United States Army in 1899,
came out to the picket-line with a citizen visitor, desiring to
show him how the work was done. They were intending to
move along the entire picket-line, but the citizen, scared nearly
out of his wits, declared he had gone far enough.
The crowing of a rooster always brings visions of the barn
yard, but here in camp amidst the scenes of war the boys
of the 126th Ohio in our brigade have trained a chanticleer to
crow lustily, and to whip any dog the other regiments can bring
along. How he does strut and crow after such a victory! A
rebel officer on the 19th declared he would shoot any Yankee
who offered to trade papers. With him ignorance of war news
was bliss. The 24th one of our battalions goes over to the 2d
Corps to help man the works, while the latter has a review by
President Lincoln. To add to our discontent high winds fan
forest fires. The 25th ushers in the advance movement to end
only at Appomattox. There is general activity all along the
front, charges and countercharges. Fort Steadman was takeu
from the 9th Corps at 4 A. M., but is speedily regained ; one of

220 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
the prominent engagements of the war. The 2d Corps also
moves up.
At noon two regiments lay off knapsacks and form in front
of Battery Lee and charge on the rebel pickets. They were
driven back, as they found the enemy in force. With two more
regiments, and our 1st Battalion, Companies B, D, G and I, a
second and successful charge was made. The Ninth's men were
the first to reach the works and 200 rebels were captured, we
having a large number wounded. Meantime the Confederates
opened their batteries on the lines as they were forming, and
from Battery Lee answer was made from the thirty-pound Par-
rotts, and it was kept up all the afternoon, driving the enemy
from every fort they occupied. One Company L gunner dis
mantled the rebel guns, blew up a caisson, knocked a house to
pieces, and kept two batteries still all the time. His work won
the unqualified admiration of Generals Wright and Seymour,
who were looking on from Fort Fisher. They declared there
was nothing better along the lines. One rebel shell entered
our parapet and three or four went over, but no one was hurt.
One hundred and seventy-four rounds were fired. The 26th, a
boy writes home : "It is nothing but fun, fighting with artillery
the way we did. I suppose you think the noise is something,
but we don't notice it, and we all stand within seven feet of the
thirty-pound Parrotts." There is no let-up; continue firing all
day. One of the finest houses in the South is burned because
the rebels would occupy it with their men and then they com
plained because we destroyed it.
The official report of General Keifer is as the foregoing,
though he says: "This brigade, save the 138th Pennsylvania,
occupied the line of works including Forts Fisher, Welsh and
Gregg, and about three-quarters of a mile from the enemy's forti
fications. The enemy's picket-line was strongly entrenched,
and manned by an unusually large number of men." He further
states that "the first regiments advancing are the 110th and the
122d Ohio. When the second advance is made, the 67th Pennsyl
vania, 6th Maryland, 126th Ohio and one battalion of the Ninth
are in line and go forward under a heavy fire. This they do
at 3 P. M. and without halting to fire. More than 200 prisoners
are taken.
"Notwithstanding a heavy fire from the enemy's guns cou-
centrated on the troops, the captured line was held. It subse-

PETERSBURG THROUGH MARCH, 1865. 221
quently proved to be of great benefit to the corps by enabling
troops to be formed behind it for an assault upon the enemy's
works." In favors bestowed he mentions approvingly the
leadership of Colonel Snyder.
Colonel Snyder's report is particularly interesting, setting
forth the part borne by the entire regiment.
"Two battalions of the regiment were sent into Fort Fisher
to repel any attack in case we should be driven back into
our main works. The other battalion (1st) was formed in
rear of our picket-line. We advance in good order under a
heavy fire of musketry to our picket-line, where we halted
for about thirty minutes, when at a given signal we
crossed a deep marsh or swamp. The battalion oc
cupying the extreme left of the line, being somewhat
farther from the enemy's line than the other portion of the line,
did not reach as soon as the other parts, but we were not far
behind, capturing the rebel pickets in our front.
"Sergeant Cornelius Flannery, Company I, particularly dis
tinguished himself in the assault by his bravery; Captains
Chauncey Fish and Henry J. Rhodes (the latter having been
wounded, but would not leave the field) deserve great credit
for their gallantry, and for their exertions in urging the men
forward to the assault."
On the next day, the 26th, "two Confederate officers came
directly towards our regiment waving a white flag. The order
to cease firing was passed along the line. All the men, both
Federal and Confederate, climbed upon their respective breast
works and stood watching the two parties going to meet each
other between the lines. Just when the parties were about to
meet, two Confederate videttes fired into our men from a pit
directly in front. One bullet struck Corporal Willard Rand
of Company G in the right arm, passed through it and through
his body and lodged against the skin on the left side near the
heart, killing him instantly. Immediately every man was be
hind the works with rifle in hand, ready to avenge the dastard
ly murdering of his comrade, but the prompt and vigorous
action of the officers prevented the slaughter of every man
between the lines.
"Rand's body was carried to the rear in an ambulance and
was buried by Chaplain Devoe and John H. Devoe. The full
details of his death and a short biography of his life were

222

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

written, placed in a glass bottle, and buried at his head. Rand
was a noble fellow beloved by every man in the company."
The opposing lines are very near each other. March 27th
the long roll was beat at 4.30 A. M., for the enemy made val
iant efforts to retake our picket-lines, but failed, this particu
larly before the 2d Division. Then came a flag of truce and
agreement to cease picket-firing. For some reason the heavy
guns of Fort Lee are sent to City Point, and Quaker or wooden
guns take their places. No guns are left in the battery. The
29th, heavy firing on our left indicates trouble in front of the
5th Corps, and the Johnnies make unsuccessful efforts to take
Fort Stedman again, but they make nothing. The 30th sees
a continuance of yesterday's firing, though the rain falls in tor
rents. Musketry and cannon drown even the waterfall, and
kept everyone along the line on the qui vive. Everyone is
packed up and ready to move at the word. The expected charge
was not made, prevented in part by the rain, but more especial
ly by information imparted by some sneaking deserter from our
side, at least this -is the statement by rebel deserters. At 4 P.
M. we pitch our tents again.

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK.

223

CHAPTER XXI.

Breaking the Lines and Sailor's Creek.

April 1st. Peach-trees inside the rebel lines are in blossom;
trees of all sorts about us have been cut off entirely. Peach-
trees are more common here than apple-trees in the North. It
is no All Fools' day with us, though the foe does not reply to
our artillery challenge at 8 P. M. ; firing is so common that
unless it comes in volleys, we give little heed. Deserters say
the forts in front of us are being filled with cannon.
The 2d is the day of the great ad
vance. Just before day the 6th
Corps charges the rebel lines and
carries everything before it. The
enemy's guns are turned upon them
and their men are captured by the
hundreds. Two miles of works are
taken by the 6th Corps unaided.
Fort after fort falls into our hands,
and the way is cleared to Petersburg,
though the foe makes stubborn re
sistance, and surrenders only as
driven to it. One youngster scan
dalized his officers by donning rebel
clothing which was found in pass
ing through the works; but it was
fun, though brief, for he was quick
ly compelled to shed his trophies.
General A. P. Hill, one of the best
Confederate generals, loses his life
On tUlS Qay. From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
The part taken by our particular
portion of the corps is best told in the report of General Keifer
as follows:
Previous to the 2d inst., my command, with the exception
of the 138th Pennsylvania, occupied the line of works from
Fort Fisher to Fort Gregg, inclusive of the forts named; and
also Fort Welch, which was about the centre of my brigade. . .
The brigade was formed for the assault to the front and left
of Fort Welch, about 3 A. M., in three lines of battle, with the

224 ninth new york heavy artillery.
right resting on an almost impassable swamp and ravine, which
separated it from the left of the 2d Division, 6th Army Corps.
The 1st Brigade, 3d Division, was formed on the left of my
brigade. The brigade was formed just in rear of the old in
trenched picket-line of the enemy, which had been taken from
him on the 25th ult.
Much difficulty was experienced in getting the troops formed,
in consequence of the darkness and the deep swamp to be
passed through, and also a severe and annoying fire of the
enemy. A number of men were killed and a number of officers
and men were wounded during the formation of the troops;
notwithstanding which the troops preserved good order and
remained cool and steady.
The 110th and 126th Ohio and 6th Maryland Regiments were
formed in the front line from right to left in the order named.
The 9th New York Heavy Artillery constituted the second
line and the 122d Ohio, the 138th and 67th Pennsylvania Regi
ments were formed in the rear line from right to left in the
order named.
The signal to assault the enemy's works was given by direc
tion of Major General Wright at precisely 4 (General Wright
says 4.40) A. M. by discharging a piece of artillery at Fort
Fisher.* Immediately after the signal was given, the troops in
the front line moved forward upon the enemy's outer works,
which were held by a strong line of pickets, and captured them;
and without halting or discharging a piece, although receiving
a heavy fire, the whole command moved upon the main works.
Not even a temporary check transpired in passing through and
over the double line of abatis, ditch and strong breastworks.
A hand-to-hand fight ensued within the main works, in which
many gallant officers and men were killed and wounded. The
rebels in our front were soon killed, wounded, captured or dis
persed. Although the enemy had a large amount of artillery
in the works in our front, we suffered but little from it. The
whole of his artillery in our front fell into our hands imme
diately upon our entering the works.
This brigade assaulted the enemy just to the left (the enemy's
right) of a salient angle in his line of works. After gaining an
entrance within the line of works, the enemy was still firing
over them to our right and upon the 1st and 2d Divisions of the
6th Army Corps, but in a few moments were driven from their
entire line of works in front of our corps. This brigade cap
tured ten pieces of artillery immediately after entering the
enemy's works, for which it received receipts; also a large

*As this fort was garrisoned by the Ninth, to our regiment belongs
the credit of sounding the knell of the Confederacy. The movement
beginning at this 4 A. M. ended only at Appomattox.

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK. 225
number of prisoners, three battle-flags, and Major General
Heath's division headquarters flag.
The troops of the brigade were in some confusion after enter
ing the works, but the main body was at once directed along
the enemy's fortifications to the left, and upon a strong fort con
taining four pieces of artillery, which were soon captured,
Although a number of troops of the division were hurried to
this fort, yet when attacked by the enemy, they were, owing
to their unorganized condition, driven back, and the fort was
retaken and held by the rebels a very short time.
At this juncture, I directed Major William Wood and Brevet
Major S. B. Lamoreaux, 9th New York Heavy Artillery, to
place in position a four-gun battery captured from the enemy,
which they were prompt in doing, and fired it with good
effect. . . .
As soon as the recaptured fort was again retaken by us, the
main body of the troops of the brigade, with the other troops
of the division, swept along the enemy's fortifications to the
left as far as Hatcher's Run, and small parties of the brigade
with the brigade sharpshooters crossed it and captured a large
number of prisoners. Twelve pieces of artillery were captured
during this movement to the left of the troops of the 3d Divi
sion. . . .
From Hatcher's Run the troops were hastened back to the
place where the attack was first made, whence the division was
sent to the front, and formed fronting Petersburg, and upon
the left and in support of the 9th Army Corps.
The general calls particular attention to the brilliant services
of Colonel J. W. Snyder, Majors William and Anson Wood and
Brevet Major S. B. Lamoreaux. "So near were the colors of
the 110th Ohio, 9th New York Heavy Artillery, 67th Pennsyl
vania and 6th Maryland that each claims the honor of being
first. . . . Sergeant Judah N. Taylor, Company A, 9th New
York Heavy Artillery, is reported by his regimental com
mander as having captured a battle-flag, which he gave up to
two officers whose names are not known to him."
The report of Colonel J. W. Snyder is to the following effect :
We moved out of camp at 12 o'clock midnight to the rear
of the picket-line of the 3d Division and halted, the regiment
forming the second line. At 4 o'clock the order to advance was
given, and we moved forward under a galling fire of artillery.
As we moved towards the enemy's works we left-obliqued, and
entered the fort in front of the left of the 3d Division line, be
ing the first to enter the work, capturing four guns, which were
immediately brought to bear upon the retreating foe with great
effect. The guns were manned by men and officers of the regi-
15

226 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
ment, and they handled them with great skill. We wheeled to
the left and swept down the right of the rebel line, charging
across a deep swamp, then wading to our breasts, and carried an
other fort, capturing two guns. The rebels rallied and charged
upon us and drove us across the swamp again, where we held
them for some time. The artillery under charge of Major Wil
liam Wood of the regiment dismounted one of the pieces at
the first fire, which left them but one gun, which was soon
silenced, when we charged again across the swamp and cap
tured a great many prisoners. We moved on down the enemy's
line for a couple of miles, when we were halted and formed; then
moved down the left of the enemy's line towards Petersburg,
before which we reached about 3 P. M.
To mention individual instances of bravery in the battle by
any single individual would be but doing injustice to others.
Both officers and men did their whole duty without a single
exception; but I must speak of the field-officers in my command
in the highest terms. Major William Wood performed his duty
nobly in urging the men forward to the assault, and after car
rying the works, in turning the enemy's guns upon them with
telling effect; Major A. S. Wood was active in urging the men
forward; also Brevet Major S. B. Lamoreaux performed his
duty well. The line-officers all behaved themselves nobly; so
did the whole command. Lieutenants Guy A. Brown and
(L. H.) Bigelow were wounded while charging upon the enemy's
works at the head of the command. They should receive honor
able mention for their gallantry.
Altogether this was a pretty good Sunday's work, not much
like that to which most of the boys had been reared, but a prac
tical destruction of the power of evil, against which all Christian
efforts are supposed to be directed. In General Wright's report
he states that without the action of March 25th, viz., the cap
ture of the intrenched rebel picket-line, the success of this day
had been impossible, for here there was opportunity to as
semble in mass and thence to advance. Also he lays stress
upon this being the very weakest portion of the enemy's line,
a fact detected by long and close inspection. That there is
science in war becomes evident when we see the manner in
which experts set themselves about carrying into effect their
theories. Axmen to cut away the abatis accompanied each
advancing line, but so great was the darkness that, he states,
the signal for advancing was not given till 4.40 o'clock. It was
while the 3d Division was making its left swing and penetrat
ing some parts of it to the Southside railroad that Confederate
General A. P. Hill was killed by Corporal John W. Mauk of

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR S CREEK.

227

the 138th Pennsylvania. Recalled, and again aligned, the 3d
Division was immediately south of the city of Petersburg, with
the left of the division resting on the Appomattox river. Gen
eral Wright says that so wearied were the members of his corps,
having been under arms eighteen hours, it was deemed inad
visable to attack till the following morning, so they betook
themselves to merited rest.
One officer, writing home, says of the fight: "Our men seemed
to care for nothing; went right in; charged through ditches and
over breastworks; never saw such fighting; they were like a
lot of wild men."

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission.
FORT STEDMAN, SHOWING GABION, ABATIS AND CHEVAUX DE FRISE.

Any man ever in an engagement knows that a deal of urging
is necessary at times. Men need driving occasionally to keep
them up to the requisite pitch, and the following, written in his
journal the very day of the charge, seems a reasonable account
of one man's observation, himself one of the most honored sur
vivors of the regiment. Like a sensible man, haying loved ones
at home, he writes, on the 1st : "Before the light of another day,
we shall charge the rebel works; all are talking about it; all
dread it." Are we reminded of Bayard Taylor's words in his
Crimean Episode, "We storm the forts to-morrow,"
and as the singer there proved himself a true Briton, so these

228 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
dreading Northmen did their duty in the face of danger and
death. "After being up all night in expectation and making prepa
rations, at 4 A. M. we advance upon the enemy's works. We
have not gone far upon the charge before we are broken up.
We lose our line and all formation. At our own picket-line
the men hesitate, and it takes much urging and some coaxing
and some beating with the sabre to get them along. Have to
go and train many. Crossing the plain, the shells from the
enemy's forts screech over our heads, streaks of seething fire.
As we get nearer, like a tempest grape and canister plunge,
patter and bound around us in all directions. Behind every
stump lie one, two or three men very affectionately hugging
mother earth as if by close application they were deriving the
milk of life. 'Come on, boys, we will carry their works,' has
little effect. 'Get up, you cowardly devils;' 'Get out of this;'
'Go on;' with a vigorous application of the flat of the sabre,
have power. I started an officer from behind a stump, urged
by the flat of my sword; he was very indignant, and asked me
if I knew whom I was talking to. Like a lot of sheep, over a
stone wall, we go into the enemy's works. I made myself very
hoarse by giving commands, cheering and urging on. I prac
ticed some cheating, which had better effect than anything else
I could do. WThen they hesitated and were reluctant to go on,
I cried out, 'Come on, boys; they've only one gun in the fort,
and nothing but a skirmish line in the works.' The next bat
tery was playing upon us, 'Come on, boys, let's take another.'
It is hard work to get the men out of the shanties in the first
works, but some go forward and soon the next battery is taken.
On we go, and our men enter the next battery and camp, but
forgetting all order, organization and discipline and beginning
to think of plunder, the enemy in small force turns upon us
and drives us back, capturing some. When at the second fort,
by the direction of General Keifer, we get into position the six
guns we had there taken, and by this time there was need of
them to operate against the enemy, who had driven our men
out of the third fort and were working the guns against us.
We turned their guns against them, used their own ammunition
and made it tell well. We fired rapidly, probably half an hour.
As a result, one of their guns was found to be capsized and the
carriage broken. By the other gun lay its gunner with half

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK.

229

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230 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
of his head blown off, and near by, another with his thigh
smashed, also a rebel officer who had bitten the dust. The
enemy was driven again. Then having no horses we had to
leave our captured guns and again press on as infantry, and
on we went. After taking six forts, twelve guns and many
prisoners we halted. The prisoners we greeted with 'Good
morning, a fine Sunday morning,' etc. We then turned back
and directed our course along the line of works lately occupied
by the enemy and towards Petersburg. ... At night we
shovel a little dirt for protection, in case the enemy should come
down upon us. We lay down to rest, feeling that we have
worshiped God with a vengeance." The long drill in the forts,.
on light guns as well as heavy, on this day bore excellent fruit.
The men fell into their places like clockwork, and worked the
captured guns as though they had been trained on them.
The morning of the 3d reveals the rebel forts evacuated, and
there is nothing to hinder our advance, which we make at day
break. Our folks under General O. B. Wilcox were in the city
of Petersburg early, and General Godfrey Weitzel entered
Richmond at 8 A. M. Our march in the enemy's wake was a
long and weary one. Millions of dollars' worth of impedimenta
was thrown away by the retreating foe. They stopped not on
the order of their going, nor did they hesitate to throw away
anything that could impede. The pursuit was kept up through
the 4th with the utmost speed.
Our start the 5th, as usual, is early, before daybreak even,
and at sunrise we halt for coffee. A paper is read before us
asking us to endure a little hardship, and stating that we must
march twenty miles to rations. We halt at 11 A. M. and draw
rations, but before we can utilize them the bugle calls "Away,"
and we are off, leaving abundance of food for crows and buz
zards. We march one and a half hours, and then halt fifteen
minutes. Again a paper is read stating that Sheridan has
captured six guns and that the enemy is only six miles ahead.
We cheer, the bugle sounds, and again we advance at a great
rate. A cavalryman whom .we meet tells us that it is twelve
miles to camp. Another day's break-neck march on the 6th,.
and we sample all points of the compass, ending at 11.50 A. M.
very near our late camping-place. Another march of a few
hours takes us into the battle-line and the fight at Sailor's creek.
Though we knew it not, there was method in all this march-

Maj. Gen'l Philip H. Sheridan.
Maj. Gen'l U. S. Grant. Maj. Gen'l Geo. G. Meade.

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK. 231
ing and changing. As ever, we were only pawns on a vast
chess-board, wholly ignorant of the intentions of the mighty
hand that moved us. We could have done no better had each
day's intentions been revealed to us. The ancient orders to do
our duty and to question not, applied. The men who fell in this
day's doings died ignorant of the great consequences following
their obedience, and thus it was on every battlefield. Occa
sionally, as at Winchester, we knew our ground and what the
stake, but such cases were rare. Not a dozen men in the regi
ment, officers included, knew where we were and hardly which
way we were headed, except as they now and then glanced at
their shadows. We did know full well that we had the enemy
on the run, and what were fatigue and danger in the exhilara
tion of that pursuit?
It is fair to premise that General Lee was straining every
nerve to reach Danville, and Grant was equally strenuous in
his efforts to prevent. From Petersburg Lee's trend had been
southwest, with the hope of eventually making a junction with
Johnston, which being done, though the issue would have been
the same, the day had been long postponed. Grant was a bet
ter tactician than Lee, and his generals could interpret and
execute his wishes. Sheridan was one of the gods of war, to
whom come, by intuition, the purposes of the enemy, and he
moved army corps as easily as a housewife arranges the furni
ture of her home. These army corps were commanded by kings
of men, each one a master in his vocation, and so on, down to
the marching entities who carried guns, each man was a think
ing, reasoning being having perfect confidence in his leaders
up to and including the highest, in the righteousness of his
cause, and, what counted most of all, in himself. Every com
mander believed in his men and every man would stake his life
on the ability of his officer, hence the grandest, mightiest ag
gregation of fighting material the world ever saw.
Then, as to this day, both of the wings of the rebel army, on
the previous night by circuitous roads, had marched away from
Amelia Court House, around the Union left, and there was
danger of their accomplishing the march to Danville. This
must be headed off, and Sheridan is the man to do it. His fa
mous 6th Corps with his cavalry is his weapon. In his Memoirs,
General Grant says: "When the movement towards Amelia
Court House had commenced that morning, I ordered Wright's

232 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
corps, which was on the extreme right, to be moved to the left
past the whole army, to take the place of Griffin's, and ordered
the latter, at the same time, to move by and to place itself on
the right. The object of this movement was to get the 6th
Corps, Wright's, next to the cavalry, with which they had pre
viously served so harmoniously and so efficiently in the valley
of Virginia."
The battle itself is, perhaps, best told in a paper read by our
brigade commander, General Keifer, before the Ohio Com-
mandery of the Loyal Legion, and from which in substance
the following account is taken. He begins by stating, what
few can deny, that not five per cent, of the intelligent people
of the United States, North and South, who were of mature
years at the close of the Rebellion, and a far less proportion of
those of a later day, ever heard of the Battle of Sailor's Creek
at all. Most of the well-informed officers and soldiers of that
war, of both armies, knew little or nothing of it. This igno
rance is readily accounted for on account of the magnitude of
the events which were rapidly occurring in those days leading
up to the surrender. Very likely, no other two weeks in Ameri
can history carry so great a burden of imperishable material
as those extending from the forcing of the Petersburg lines to
the president's assassination; hence this fight of short con
tinuance, involving the loss of many lives on both sides, the cap
turing of thousands of the enemy, including more general offi
cers than had been taken at one time before, is almost hidden
in the stronger glare of Five Forks, the surrender at Appo
mattox, and the Lincoln tragedy. It was the hottest kind of
an engagement while it lasted, and the enemy resisted up to
the limit of human endurance, fully exhibiting the proverbial
Anglo-Saxon prowess. The stories of other fields less bloody,
less important, are told over and over while this is all but for
gotten. Sailor's creek, on which the battle was fought, is a
small stream in Prince Edward's county, and, flowing north
ward, empties into the Appomattox. The battle was fought
five miles from Rice's Station on the Lynchburg railroad. On
the morning of the 6th, our forces at Jetersville were started
towards Amelia Court House, but were speedily counter
marched when the movement of Lee was realized. Our next
aim was to intercept the retreating army. Every road and
cross-lot routes were seized in the effort to head off the foe.

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK.

233

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234 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The 6th Corps followed hard after General Wesley Merritt's
cavalry, and as usual overtook them, about 3 P. M., after a
march of eighteen miles, at a point two and a half miles from
Sailor's creek on the left. Here the cavalry were having a
brisk engagement with the enemy. Our 2d Brigade went into
the action promptly, with scarcely a halt for preparation. The
foe was charged, pressed back and a large haul made of pris
oners, wagon-trains and some artillery. However, the main
body of the Confederates had gone on to Sailor's creek. Gen
eral Sheridan ordered an immediate pursuit, and we followed
on. The 1st Division of our corps came up and joined in the
pursuit. The greater part of the cavalry passed on to the left
and south to intercept the retreating enemy. General R. S.
Ewell was in command of the Confederates, and by 5 P. M. hb
had taken up a strong position on the west bank of the creek.
His location was elevated and largely covered with forest. The
approaches on the east were level and open, the stream itself
washing the foot of the elevations. Here he awaited an attack,
failing which he would, in the ensuing night, make good his
escape to Danville. Without waiting for the portions of the
corps which had not arrived, an immediate attack was ordered,
and holding aloft their guns and ammunition, the swollen
stream was forded, our soldiers literally "wading in." With
only a single line, the heights were assaulted, while the cavalry,
which had passed entirely around the enemy, furiously fell upon
his rear. The Confederates, massed in heavy column and led by
Ewell himself, broke our centre. This, however, only exposed
him to the artillery across the stream, while the broken Union
lines fell upon both flanks, and the cavalry pressed hard upon
his rear. The enemy struggled manfully, but to no avail; even
the bravery of desperation could not save, and there was noth
ing to do but to throw down their arms, and surrender. Com
modore J. Randolph Tucker in command of the Marine Bri
gade, a force of about 2000 men, also gave up, though only
after a stubborn resistance. The most of the officers of this
body, some thirty-five in number, before the war had served
in the United States Navy, and before the evacuation of Rich
mond had made themselves useful in manning gunboats and
river batteries. It was a singular decree of fate that sent them,
these seventy and more miles from the Confederate Capital,
to be made prisoners, of all places in the world for men bear-

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK. 235
ing their name, at Sailor's Creek,* or, as it was sometimes
called. Sailor's Run, though be it said to their credit, they didn't
run. Among the officers who fell into our hands were Lieutenant
General R. S. Ewell, Major Generals Kershaw, Curtis Lee and
Pickett, with Brigadier Generals Barton, Corse and Lewis,
while the rank and file number nearly 10,000 men. Yet such
a victory has scant mention in the running histories of the day.
The loss of so many men forced General Lee to move with what
remained of his army northward, and three days later came
the final scene at Appomattox. Though there were cavalry
skirmishes afterwards, the battle practically closed the great
engagement list. General Keifer's concluding words are: "It
may truthfully be said that it was not only the last general
field battle of the war, but the one wherein more officers and
men were captured in the struggle of conflict than in any battle
of modern times." In the report which followed this cam
paign, General Keifer is pleased to bestow merited praises upon
several officers of our regiment, ascribing to Lieutenant Colonel
Snyder great skill, judgment and bravery in the management
of his regiment: "Major William Wood, while leading his bat
talion in a charge, received a dangerous wound from a canister-
shot in the face; Majors Anson Wood, S. B. Lamoreaux and
Captains George W. Brinkerhoff, Henry J. Rhodes and Chaun
cey Fish are among the many who did their duty nobly." He
also praises Lieutenant J. W. Jewhurst, an aide-de-camp upon
his staff, for his discharge of duty.
Of the part borne by the Ninth in this engagement the re
port of Colonel Snyder says, dealing apparently with the charge
a short distance from the stream which gave its name to the
entire battle:
"The regiment was formed in the second line, and advanced

*The peculiarity of this name for a stream so far inland having
aroused my curiosity, I addressed a note to Richard Mcllwaine, D. D.,
president of Hampden -Sidney College, located in the same county,
Prince Edward's, asking him for an explanation, if possible, and he
was kind enough to speedily return the following very lucid reason:
"My impression is that the proper spelling of Saylors creek is with a
y. In the last century, there was a family of Saylors in Prince Ed
ward's county, and my understanding is that the creek took its name
from them." (The corruption of this name to that now used is very
easy and the explanation reasonable. — A. S. R.)

236 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
through a wood in good order. After clearing the wood it
made a right wheel and moved forward about 200 yards, when
it made a left half wheel. At this time I was ordered to charge
a battery that was in our immediate front, in a piece of woods,
which was firing shot and shell with great rapidity. We move
forward on the double-quick, and soon forced the battery to
limber up and retire. They planted the battery again in a
piece of woods across an open field and opened on us with a
heavy fire, but our advance across the field caused it to limber
to the rear. The men were completely exhausted, having
marched eighteen miles and receiving no rest before entering
the action ; if they had been fresh, we should have captured the
battery without any doubt. The men behaved with their usual
gallantry." He also pays tribute to the bravery of the officers
complimented by General Keifer, and mentions the wounding
of Major William Wood.
It was in this fight that Jimmy H., the discoverer of the "hul
ribbel ahrmy" at Newtown in the valley, still further distin
guished himself by remarking to Sergeant Judah N. Taylor
when the order to fix bayonets and charge came, "Sure, Jude,
I canno' charge whin I have no bayonet;" but Jimmy was
swept along with those who were properly equipped, for no one
knew just how the remonstrant came to be without a proper
outfit. Says an officer of this day: "I went over the field at
Sailor's creek. The dead rebels covered the grounds; about
ten of them to one of our men."
But this affair, however far-reaching in its effects, is only an
interlude in the symphony that Grant is playing for the enter
tainment of mankind, and on the 7th we pass over the Lynch
burg railroad at Rice's Station, entering Farmville at noon
very soon after rations had been issued by the enemy. Our
bands give the citizens "Yankee Doodle" and the "Star Span
gled Banner" as we march through, crossing the Appomattox
upon a pontoon bridge.
The debris and clutter of the flying foe cumber the entire
way, but the reception accorded by the liberated slaves is some
thing to remember forever. That they were free and that their
saviors were passing, drew from all of them fervent thanks and
prayers. The farmers apparently had not cared to sow much
wheat last fall, and what little they did put in, our beeves were
rapidly cropping. Farmville is a fine village, and we hear that

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK. 237
18,000 prisoners have been taken. Still following the flying
foe, we march three miles the next morning, and draw three
days' rations. The weather is very warm, made all the more
so by the burning of a rebel wagon-train. A trace of slavery
is seen in the form of a bright hazel-eyed, yellow-skinned boy,
who answers our questions very intelligently, yet says he is a
slave. Negro women are nearly frantic with joy over our com
ing. Farmville furnishes an abundance of tobacco, Virginia's
peculiar product, and our boys help themselves. They are
greedy, and start away with far more than they can carry.
The roads are strewn with it.
Gardening was a favorite amusement as the army passed
along, for it frequently revealed stores of food and liquors
hidden in the ground. At Farmville this kind of industry was
particularly fruitful. Sometimes the boys divided with the
officers, and sometimes they didn't, depending somewhat on the
quantity found, and the popularity of the shoulder-straps.
Our direction of the 8th must have been towards the north
west, for our camp at night is at New Store, and to reach Ap
pomattox Court House the next day we have to turn southward.
However, though we reach New Store late, our camp is luxuri
ous to at least some of the Ninth. A member of Company L
dilates on the comforts had from a feather-bed taken from the
house of a reputed rebel captain. Like the Irishman's bedstead,
viz., the floor, our lad laid his bed on the most substantial of
holders, the ground, and under the stars fancied himself at
home again with his unwonted luxury. He says eight such bits
of comfort were taken from the mansion, and in like manner
were placed where the occupants wouldn't get hurt if they
should fall out. But there is no sweet without its offset of bit
ter, and the next morning our boys were tauntingly called
"feather-bed soldiers" by those not fortunate enough to get
there first. Still there was warrant for such appropriation,
since these boys in four days and nights had had only twelve
hours' sleep. Sofa-bottomed chairs bestrewed the yard, and
oil paintings hung upon the walls of the rooms, and singularly
enough they were not disturbed, though some books were car
ried off. Also ablutions were performed in clean, white dishes
by these campaign-stained travelers, who took occasion to re
mark that if the women hadn't run away, they (the soldiers)
would not have disturbed a thing. There were buildings

238 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
burned, however, among them one that was claimed to be or
to have been the residence of the late General A. P. Hill, and
to have been more recently used as headquarters. As the Ninth
is a very large regiment, it is possible that all did not make
this detour. Indeed, so frequently were detachments called for
to attend to all sorts of duties, it would be particularly difficult
to follow each and every company in its peregrinations.
The sublime and the ridiculous are ever very near each other.
We find a verification of this on the 9th in that the sublime
was indicated in the surrender of Lee and his forces; the ridic
ulous in the enforcement of General Seymour's order concern
ing hats. Light-colored ones are positively tabooed, and those
captured are strung upon the bayonets of the guards. A mile
stone in history is set to-day, for the surrender of Lee marks
the collapse of the cause for which he had sacrificed all his
private opinions and all his expectations, for General Scott had
believed him the man to succeed to the command of the armies
of the United States. Cheers from thousands of throats indi
cated Union joy, and the tumult is increased by the salvos of
artillery in honor of the event.
Fate is grim and without reason, else this part of America
had not been selected as the climax of the greatest war of the
century. Remote, and without distinguishing trait, it had re
mained unknown another hundred years had not the exigencies
of the retreat led these armies hither. The name of McLean*
and Appomattox are henceforth to be linked in story, and the
brick house and apple-tree are to take their places in the lists
of notables for coming centuries. General Grant in his matter-
of-fact way dispels much of the halo that had, up to the writ
ing of his Memoirs, attached to the apple-tree. Of course the
relic-hunter had carried it off bodily, but the general says that
General Lee sat for a few moments by the road-side under its
branches, and that no negotiations were had there. The officers
met in the house of Mr. McLean, and there their staff-officers
visited while the chiefs made the compact which resulted in
the surrender of 25,000 worn-out Confederates to the Federal

*Wilmer McLean was living in 1861 on the Bull Run battlefield, his
house there being Beauregard's headquarters. Later to escape his
vexatious surroundings, he moved to this seemingly quiet locality.
It was a strange decree of fate that made his home the very ending of
the struggle.

BREAKING THE LINES, AND SAILOR'S CREEK.

239

forces. The enemy had fought and retreated till there was noth
ing left for him to do but to lay down his arms and to receive
such terms as General Grant chose to impose. The latter, de
termined and relentless in war, was mild and merciful in peace.
The most stupendous of struggles was ended in the most com
passionate manner. The old world had never seen a conqueror
dismissing the thousands whom he had beaten, to their homes
and vocations bearing with them such articles as might con
tribute to their future well being. In every way, save in the
universal quality of personal bravery, our war was an excep
tion to all those which thus far had devastated the earth. In

WHERE LEE SURRENDERED.

this lull of hostilities, old friends in both armies are renewing
former intimacies and none are sorry that, when the leaders
separate, it is with the understanding complete. There are
few men living who do not regard that moment when the words,
"Lee has surrendered," were borne to their ears, in that far
away Virginia county, as the culminating moment of their lives.
They lived years in those few hours of bliss, too intense for
full expression, though they resorted to every possible form of
indication. Nothing, however, in the crowning acts of this day
eclipses the merciful kindness of the conqueror in sending ra
tions from his trains which had followed hard after him, but

240 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
the men themselves did not wait for the slower coming of food
from the supply-trains. They, imbued with the same spirit as
that of their leader, emptied their haversacks for the aid and
comfort of those whom they had so recently fought and fol
lowed. Both sides had learned to respect each other. Says
one "chiel," who would always be taking notes, "The rebels are
as glad as we that it is over, and it is a glad sight to see them
eat." Before we about-face for the return march, we have the
unspeakable joy of seeing the flag saluted by the men who had
scoffed at it for more than four long years, the very banner
which was to hereafter float over a whole nation, one and indi
visible. '
Though the language of General Wright in this connection
may add nothing to the foregoing, it is fitting that it should
have a place in these pages. He says : "Starting at 5 A. M. on
Sunday, the 9th, the 2d Corps was soon overtaken and followed
closely to the vicinity of Appomattox Court House, where the
troops were halted and held ready for any movement, awaiting
the conference then being held between Generals Grant and
Lee. Soon after halting, official intelligence of the surrender
of General Lee's forces was announced to the army, and was
received with great enthusiasm by the soldiers, who looked upon
this as the result of all their privations, and as the virtual ending
of the struggle which had convulsed the country for four years,
in which they had willingly risked their lives and fortunes."

CHAPTER XXII.
The Danville Raid.
Some of the regiment as wagon-guard start back on the 10th,
on which day, in spite of the recent order, three days' rations
are distributed, possibly on account of recent generosity to
wards our hungry foemen. The 11th sees us beginning the
backward march, reaching Farmville on the 12th and Burks-
ville the 13th, where we camp near the junction for ten days.
Foraging again is the order of the day, and the valley is recalled.
Rain falls at intervals, and boys who lay down dry awake wet,
sometimes drenched. So much so in some cases that stockings

THE DANVILLE RAID. 241
had to be taken off and wrung before boots could be put on.
Trains come through from Petersburg, and regular rations are
drawn. While here the distressing news of President Lincoln's
assassination* on the 14th is received, and the joy at Lee's sur
render is lost in the gloom of this terrible crime. The 19th,
twenty-minute guns are fired at headquarters in token of the
burial. Services are also had and General Keifer speaks along
with Colonel Snyder and Major A. S. Wood. All flags are
craped. While camping here, we see more than a hundred captured
cannon. Seventy of them had been honored with burial, having
headboards with all sorts of names and dates to mark their
resting-place. As one of Sheridan's scouts assisted in the inter
ment, the deception was readily discovered. There were five

*Our late surgeon, Dr. Samuel A. Sabin, was an eye-witness of the
terrible crime, as appears in the following, from a letter to his wife,
dated Washington, D. C, April 15, 1865:
"Washington has been, from the first day I came here, until 10.30
o'clock last night, one constant and continued scene of rejoicing, but
how soon and how suddenly to be changed to the deepest gloom, the
most profound sorrow. Last night I was an eye-witness to the most
appalling tragedy ever enacted in the history of the country. Lieut.
Hoff, formerly of the 9th, is here, and rooms with me, and I proposed
to go, last night, and hear Laura Keene in 'Our American Cousin' at
Ford's Theatre. We occupied orchestra chairs near the stage and
about the middle of the house. Mr. Lincoln, accompanied by Mrs.
Lincoln, Miss Harris and a gentleman whom I did not know (the
gentleman was Major H. R. Rathbone, U. S. A., of Albany, who was
wounded by Booth; the lady, a daughter of Senator Ira Harris of
Albany also. — A. S. R.) entered the upper private box, on the right
hand facing the stage, and you will recollect that the upper box is
pretty high, facing the stage. The audience greeted him with pro
longed cheers, and in the midst of the act, when he entered, the band
played a national air. Just as the curtain was rising, in the third act,
the sharp report of a pistol was heard in the direction of the pres
ident's box, and immediately afterwards a man jumped from the box
upon the stage with a drawn dagger in his left hand. The president's
box was draped with flags upon the outside, and as he jumped from
the box he was partially caught by a flag and fell upon the stage, but
not entirely down. As he reached the stage he cried, 'Sic semper
tyrannis,' and immediately ran along the footlights and left the theatre
by a back entrance, where he had a horse waiting, which he mounted
and rode rapidly off before the audience had recovered from paralysis
occasioned by the unwonted spectacle. My first thought was that a
boy in the gallery had fired off one of these large firecrackers
16

242 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
which we have been hearing for the last week, and that one of the
president's party had been seized with a fit, or had suddenly become
insane, and I ran back towards the door to stop him, supposing, as he
went behind the scenes, he had instead jumped to the floor and was
coming around towards the door. As I got to the door, someone said,
'The president is shot,' and, thinking there would be no surgeon at
hand I might be of service, I ran immediately to the president's box.
When I got there I found everything, of course, in the utmost confu
sion, some calling for one thing, some for another. As soon as I saw
the wound I saw there was no hope, and another surgeon had stated
the same previously. Some brandy was brought and given, but he
could not swallow. The bullet entered the head behind the left ear
and penetrated the brain, lodging in the same. It seems the man
entered the box on some pretence or other, and immediately fired his
pistol with fatal effect and jumped upon the stage. The president, of
course, was entirely unconscious, and remained so until he died at
7.30 o'clock this morning. He was carried as soon as possible to a
private residence across the street, where he remained till he died.
Mrs. Lincoln was nearly crazy, and as she followed the body from the
theatre she cried in frantic words, 'Oh, my poor husband; oh, my
poor husband!' I did not accompany the body across the street, as I
might have done, dreading to be called as a witness when there should
be an investigation. I shall never forget the expression of the assas
sin's face when he leaped upon the stage; his face as white as parch
ment, his black, fierce-looking eyes, his black moustache, the drawn
dagger in his hand and the [to some] cabalistic words, 'Sic semper
tyranrvis,' — all made an impression upon my mind which can never be
erased. Report says, and I do not doubt the truth, that J. Wilkes
Booth is the assassin. He has been arrested and he is now being tried.
When I returned to my hotel the bar-keeper came in and said that
Secretary Seward and his two sons, Fred and Clarence, had all been
cut to pieces by another assassin. I could not credit it and went to
the secretary's house to ascertain the truth. I found it to be as the
papers state it. I have just learned that Secretary Seward is out of
danger, but Fred is not expected to live, his skull being badly frac
tured. * * * I assure you it looked very sad to see the president
lying in his box, shot through the head, when but a moment before he
had been in full health and life, laughing at the numerous jokes with
which the piece abounded. I could not, for a long time after I had
seen him, realize that it was the president who was thus, without a
moment's warning, all unconscious of the least danger, murdered by
a foul assassin. * * * I have just come in from the street, and
where yesterday everything was covered with flags and everybody
was rejoicing, all is covered with crape and everybody is mourning.
When on my way from the theatre, last night, the streets were
thronged with negroes, who were crying and wringing their hands in
the greatest distress. The fence in front of the White House, to-day,
is lined with negroes and they are expressing their great sorrow at
the loss of their best friend."

THE DANVILLE RAID. 243
Armstrong guns, two mounted on English carriages, and one
Whitworth. Seven rebel officers are reported shot for tearing
up railroad track between Richmond and Petersburg. A good,
long and much needed rest is had in this halt, and the boys get
back to their normal selves.
But Johnston has not surrendered, so Sheridan's old guard
of the valley along with his cavalry set forth to make the trip
to Danville and thus unite with Sherman. The men are used
to marching, and they are nothing loath to undertake the 125
miles to the North Carolina border. The railroad itself is pro
nounced the very worst we have seen, just old strap iron laid
on longitudinal sleepers. The only wonder is that it was able
to render the service that it did. Wrecked cars are frequent
objects. It was over this road that Jefferson Davis and his
Cabinet took their hurried ride from Richmond April 3d on
their way to Danville, the last capital of the Confederacy, to
wards which we are wending our weary way. A considerable
portion of our regiment is guarding wagon-trains, so we are
not marching as a whole. To Northern eyes the country is not
inviting, and we can not help noting the small acreage of grain.
The 24th takes us to the Staunton river at Roanoke Station.
The name arouses memories of John Randolph, who always
affixed "of Roanoke" to his name, and very likely we may have
passed quite near the old home of this descendant of Poca
hontas. Once more we are in a land where foraging is possible, but of
course, quite out of order, since Lee had surrendered. Notwith
standing, fresh pork was not an infrequent diet on this south
ern ramble. A small flat-bottomed boat takes us across the
river at daylight of the 25th, for the bridge had been burned.
The negroes are moving in great numbers towards Richmond,
which now takes the place of heaven in their fancies; the face
of the country improves as we advance further south. Planters
wear pleasant faces, but we can not tell what is in their hearts.
Strawberries and blackberries are in blossom. At nightfall we
camp in Halifax Court House; others near Boston Station,
where they entertain at supper and bivouac Jarvis Norman
from Lee's army, exchanging reminiscences. The camp is on
the farm of Dr. Coleman, consisting of thousands of acres.
Colored women, wearing garments just the hue of the red soil
they cultivate, are seen at work in the fields. Hereabouts the

244 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
land is better, and better tilled than in the vicinity of Rich
mond. There are wheat-fields over a hundred acres in extent.
One party saw a negro laborer whose overseer had stuck a
knife into his shoulder because he could not cultivate corn
more rapidly. Said overseer had left before we came along.
Since crossing the Staunton river, the negroes travel with us
towards Danville. The 27th brings the different lines together
at the covered bridge which spans the Dan river, unaccount
ably spared when the rebels departed, and it is like the neck
of a jug, for through it all must pass in reaching the city op
posite. Not much of a city to Northern eyes, but such it is.
Some of the Ninth were at the bridge at 3 P. M., but they had
to wait till all were up, and then passing through, after receiv
ing the formal surrender of the city from Mayor J. M. Walker
and the city government, we camped on a hillside two or three
miles south of Danville, and very near the North Carolina line.
'Tis said that the Johnny purpose to destroy the bridge was
ready enough, but the citizens prevented. Possibly the dis
position to surrender was heightened by the fact that a party
of soldiers had already forded the Dan river at the right and
had taken 5000 prisoners, with millions of property, while the
mayor was doing his part at the bridge. Colonel T. W. Hyde,
commander of 3d Brigade, 2d Division, claims the honor of
first entering the city. With genuine Yankee curiosity (he was
a Maine man) he looked up the office of the Danville Register,
and finding forms and type and a part of a page set up, he sent
Moses Owens to complete and print, issuing the first number
that evening. The Sixth Corps as long as we remained was a
regular article at twenty-five cents a copy. It was not much,
only a broadside 11x16 inches, but it was funny. Witness some
of its facetiae :
"We have the Wright man in the Wright place."
"Treason can not Hyde itself."
"I met with no opposition except the river, which, by the way,
was running rapidly."
"The citizens were delighted to see us, and many were seen
to cross themselves before our glorious banner." Signed Owen-
sisko. Colonel C. S. Porter of the 1st Maine was appointed provost
marshal. Just one-half of the page was given to advertise
ments already set up, including "Two runaway slaves." The

THE DANVILLE RAID.

245

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246

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

paper was run on a very funny basis. If Editor Owens didn't
feel like getting out a new paper, he reproduced that of the
day before. The owner of the paper was joined with Owens
in this venture, and he got more money out of it than he had
ever made before. They faked their Northern despatches, and
news agencies were not of the least account. A bit of original
poetry on Sedgwick is given in Miscellaneous chapter. The last
number issued bore date May 16th, and contained the notice of
Jeff. Davis' capture.
Those who liked fun — and who didn't? — tell wondrous
stories of the diversions the place afforded. Certain ones do
not refrain from repeating the following, though the joke ap
pears to be on themselves: They found no end of pleasure in

LAST CAPITOL OF THE CONFEDERACY.

attending the dances which the colored people, in honor of
their newly-found liberty, were giving every night. Somehow
or other the dusky damsels preferred them as partners to the
men of their own complexion. After a while this began to
rankle in the masculine African breasts, and they determined
to rid themselves of their soldier rivals. Accordingly, after
due consideration, they sent a deputation to wait upon the
white dancers, and to tell them "dat de presence of de white
gemmen was offensive to de ladies, for dey couldn't stan' der
odor." This turning on the boys their own oft-repeated slur
on the negroes' alleged scent, was effectual, and they tripped the

THE DANVILLE RAID. 247
light fantastic elsewhere. The last office of the Confederacy
was shown, for in the Benedict House on Wilson street, Jef
ferson Davis and his Cabinet established themselves April 4th,
and there was issued the last address still breathing confidence
in the success of the now lost cause. Here Cabinet-meetings
were held, and to this place on the 10th, John S. Wise had
brought the crushing news of Lee's surrender, and this place
Davis must have left for North Carolina at once, for the 11th
of April he writes to Joseph E. Johnston from Greensboro.
Subsequent years have given to the plain brick structure a
gloss that it did not then possess. It is not strange that some
citizens take pride in stating that Danville was the last cap
tured of the Confederacy, for after leaving it the president was
intent only on making his escape.
It is also noteworthy that, for a few days, Danville was the
capital of Virginia, for on the 10th of April, just as Davis was
leaving, "Extra Billy" Smith, governor, accompanied by an aide,
Colonel P. Bell Smith and a servant, arrived by the way of
Lynchburg on horseback. Repairing at once to the quarters of
President Davis, he found him in great excitement getting
ready to depart, which he did at 10.30 P. M. From Danville
Governor Smith issued a proclamation to the people of Virginia,
and he remained here till the reception of the news of Lincoln's
assassination. The place also received many of the Richmond
stores, which were distributed to the rebel soldiers as they
came in. Notwithstanding all these honors, the people, at the
time, were not particularly proud over them, for they gave them
"heaps" of trouble.
Foraging parties were sent out on the 29th, chief products
being young onions and corn-meal. The soldiers accompanying
the wagons were shocked at seeing slave women and girls at
work in the fields with not enough clothing to cover their
nakedness. The last day of April all were mustered for pay.
May day was observed by another foraging trip with usual
results, plus butter, canteens of milk and a large quantity of
apple-jack, which has the customary effects on its imbibers.
For a few days camp is maintained on the hillside, during which
time former prisoners in the city have a chance to revisit the
places of their incarceration and to more thoroughly explore
Danville. Also, they go to the cemetery, where the poor sol
diers dying here were carried. Their names, painted upon small

248 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
boards by John S. Hall of Company A, served to identify the
graves of more than 1300 men, and a source of comfort to many
a parent's heart.* By the 3d it became evident that some
movement is afoot, and the regiment is gotten into shape for
departure. A part marches down to the station, and while
waiting for transportation gets what comfort it can from the
dancing of the negroes, who crowd about in great numbers.
Starting away at 11 P. M. slow progress is made northward
on the shackley road, taking till 2 P. M. of the 5th to reach
Burksville, where guard duty is begun. Other companies fol
low on following days till finally the Ninth finds itself doing
duty along the entire road from Danville to Burksville, a com
pany or more in a place, headquarters being at Clover Station.
Our duties were not especially heavy. We were supposed to
guard the railroad track to prevent enemies tearing it up; to
keep the station or engine tanks full of water, and to see that
the neighboring farm-houses were not pillaged by the soldiers.
For the latter purpose one or two men would be stationed at a
house, and while there lived on the best the same afforded.
Witness this resume from one such guard : "Ham and eggs, hot
hoe-cake and biscuit, milk, butter, and the unspeakable luxury
of a bed." Those who find themselves near the Dan river have
bathing facilities not enjoyed for many a day. The proximity
of the Yankees prompted many of the colored people to come
in, expecting to be fed from the public crib, but by and by
when their numbers became excessive, they were made to clean
up the camp, and finally to work the pump by which the tank
was filled. This, savoring so much of work, constrained them
to move back to their old quarters, much to their good and our
relief. In one camp errant pigs were a nuisance, poking their noses
into tents and uprooting everything that contained a possible
morsel of food. We were on a bluff twenty or thirty feet above
the railroad, and we essayed to run these marauders off the
bank. No sooner would one of these razor-backed, sharp-
snouted individuals make his appearance in the camp than
the words, "pig, pig," would be shouted from tent to tent, im
mediately answered by the occupants, who, pouring out, would

•The preserving of these names was wholly owing to the suggestion
and care of the Rev. George W. Dame, referred to in a later chapter.

THE DANVILLE RAID.

249

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250 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
try to form a line close enough to force the animal off the bluff.
In this, however, we succeeded only once, for in spite of our
efforts he was able to force his thin body through our ranks.
Just once we managed to launch a victim, less agile than his
fellows, off the verge, and we had the pleasure of seeing him
describe a somersault or two in its descent, accompanied by
all the traditional music made by the pig under the fence.
It was while doing duty along this railroad that we picked
up Loveless, a negro from Mechlenburg county, of great length
of heel and a limberness of tongue that was marvelous. Love
less may not have been his plantation name, but that is what
we called him. He had great power in argument among his
own people, and it was as good as a circus to have him engage
some sporadic darkey who had dared to measure tongues with
him. Much that he said had no meaning, nothing but words,
but how they did wilt his antagonists! Some soldier usually
stood at his elbow and gave him a word if by any means he
failed. "Give him unconstitutionality, Loveless," says Sergeant
E  . "Yas, dat's it; wat's you got to say to dat now, you
nigger, unconstidudinatleley, dat's what I wants ter know!"
He paralyzed his adversary, though the word was no more to
him than "individual" was to Dr. Johnson's fish-woman of
Billingsgate. In this service, too, many of us saw for the first time instances
of snuff-dipping. The practice seemed well-nigh general among
the women, black and white. A line of femininity seated on a
depot platform with a pine stick projecting at a common angle
from each one's mouth was not calculated to inspire much ad
miration of the fair sex in a Northern man's mind.
The time of our stay along this road was marked by the
ripening of early fruit, and the presence of the first vegetables.
Few men complained of our life along this line of railroad.
The 22d brought our duties to an end, and taking cars we
rode up through Burksville, etc., to Manchester, reaching the
same on the 23d, being prevented from entering Richmond by
the burning of the bridge on the rebel evacuation April 2d.
Our halt was in Manchester, and here we remained till the 24th.
The brief interval was improved in visiting the rebel Capital,
and in looking up the places that had become famous in the
preceding four years. Some of the companies had come up early
enough to pretty thoroughly "do" the city; "I" for instance.

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME.

251

The trip was so slow that we had an excellent chance to study
the land impoverishment wrought by tobacco-raising. We
wondered that the country held out as long as it did.

CHAPTER XXIII.
Richmond, Washington, and Home.
We had an early start on the 24th, and marched down to a
pontoon bridge spanning the James, near where, in the pre
ceding February, some of us had taken the steamer down the
stream, for Libby prison with all its horrid memories is at our
left, and further up the river is Belle Isle, the most infamous

m

CAPITOL OF VIRGINIA.
bit of land in all the national geography. The rank and file
had no premonition of the pageant in which we were to bear
a part; but the day was to be a red-lettered one in our annals.
We entered the rebel Capital by 17th street, thence filing into
Broad, which we traveled in company front, and at shoulder-
arms. There is a steep incline as the street nears the rear of
the State House, which, by the way, has a "front-in-rear," and
that soldier who, forgetting Lot's wife, looked backward, saw
the sight of his life, for from curb to curb, the street had be
come a stream of burnished steel, glistening in the rays of the
morning sun. Those weapons had belched fire and death from

252 ninth new york heavy artillery.
Cold Harbor to Petersburg, through a hundred miles of the
Shenandoah valley, back to Petersburg, and thence through
Sailor's creek to Appomattox. The men who carried them had
the proud consciousness that they had done their part in driv
ing Davis and his government from this very city, and that the
stately edifices which they were passing, for more than four
years by Stars and Bars surmounted, were now crowned by the
Stars and Stripes, long to float over a reunited people.
Some of us even fancied that we detected an approving smile
upon the bronze features of Crawford's Washington,* which
had darkened in the gloom of secession, and that the faces of
his Virginia associates lightened at sight of national blue and
of the Fathers' flag. Generals H. W. Halleck and E. O. C. Ord
reviewed us in passing, but we had few eyes for shoulder-straps.
Our thoughts rather were on the late Confederate Capital and
the men who had led their fellows to ruin. We remarked the
shut-up appearances of its houses, and we wondered whether
the playing of our bands did not bring to their closed shutters
many a fair face to take "just a sly glance at us," though the
people may not have rejoiced that the
"Flag had come back to Tennessee."
The Ninth never marched better nor with firmer step than
on that memorable review. From Broad street, we crossed by
way of 9th into Clay, and finally emerged from the city by
Brook avenue, and took up our usual form of marching through
a section every foot of which had been exposed since 1861 to
battle fire. Though we are under no stress, we have to step
off with almost active hostility alacrity, and more than twenty
miles are back of us when we go into camp near Hanover Court
House, where we had our first shaking up, only a few days less
than a year before.
The 25th is a trying day even for old soldiers, for the heat
is intense, and the dust is everywhere. Prostrations are common,
and in this year of grace 1899, the government is paying, in the
way of pensions, for many cases of permanent disability this day

•Near the State House, itself a tribute to Jefferson, is an equestrian
statue of Washington by Thomas Crawford erected in the early fifties,
sometimes called his masterpiece. At the apices of a six-pointed star
stand statues of Patrick Henry, John Marshall, Thomas Jefferson,
George Mason, Thomas Nelson and Andrew Lewis.

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME.

253

incurred. The brief halts where "dust-brown ranks stood fast,"
or lounged by the roadside, were moments of restful bliss never
equaled elsewhere in life. If he remembered the hymns of his
boyhood, many a man thought:
"My willing soul would stay,
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away,
To everlasting bliss."
It was their very brevity that made them so enjoyable, and
the bugler was far from popular when his marching call rang
out, as it always did many minutes too soon, followed by the

From "Hardtack and Coffee," by permission. A ROADSIDE HALT.

inevitable order of the officers, "Fall in, fall in, men!" Was
there ever such a halt when some voice did not interpret the
bugle-notes thus?
"I know you are tired, but yet you must go,
So pack up your knapsack and march along s-l-o-w."
When the day is done we camp at Chesterfield, another re
minder of that southward march of May, 1864. We appear to
be taking the route of that year in reverse. There are no sus
picions of a storm when we pull our tents and ponchos over us
for the rest to be found so sweetly in the pine spore-covered hol
lows of an ancient corn-field, now overgrown with vigorous
trees, but before morn the active pattering of rain-drops and the
slow but sure gathering of water in those same comfortable de
pressions warn us that a rainy day is before us.

254 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
"Rocked in the cradle of the deep," has its compensations, and
in this case induced early rising and the preparation of break
fast over a sputtering fire. "Will we march to-day?" was on many
a lip, and we had the answer when, at 8 A. M., we saw General
Wright and staff, poncho-protected, and with the 6th Corps flag
ride by. We also were soon paddling along in the mud, which
by constant agitation became deeper and thicker, and nearly
impassable to those who brought up the rear. Oh, how wet!
We forded Polecat creek, the water of the same soaking the
contents of our blouse breast-pockets, at any rate those of men
of average stature. We are not getting over much ground,
though we seemed to be going through a deal. For wagons
and artillery the way finally became utterly blocked, and a
camp was necessary. Says one youthful diary-keeper, "The
worst day ever passed, anywhere, at home, or in the army," yet
the writer received his military baptism at Cedar Creek. It is
ever the latest evil that is the worst. It has no perspective.
Such straggling! Is there a soldier living who can truthfully
say, "I never fell out of line under any provocation"? It was
much easier marching in the field than in the highway. Many
took advantage of this fact, and for a time, keeping the column
in sight, became voluntary flankers. Then came the tempta
tion of a farm-house, negro quarters, barn or tobacco-shed, and
ever since Eden man has been yielding.
It is late in the afternoon; the army thoroughly bedraggled
is moving slowly, and much further progress is clearly impos
sible. A party of men has built fires along the back side of an
old tumbled-down, log tobacco-shed. Only the gables and roof
remain, but the latter is entire, and the Indian weed within
has been drying since the war began. Coffee is drunken on the
lee side of that structure, hardtack nibbled and the usual
amount of profanity indulged in, but the rain does not abate.
Our regiment is a long way ahead. Though they wear the
Greek cross, the men passing now are personally strangers ; why
not crawl under that inviting roof and, getting dried out, sleep
comfortably till morn! Perhaps the rain will have cleared by
that time. It does not take long to decide, and several blue-
clad forms disappear through the aperture made by pulling off
several lower boards. "No smoking allowed," is the order for
a variety of reasons, though material abounded: first, per
sonal safety ; second, the provost guard will soon be along, and

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME. 255
the odor would excite a search for the same; and third, and
most important of all, there are no smokers in the party. How
ever, they are all grateful that the Old Dominion, through rais
ing tobacco, had afforded them such comfortable beds, for they
speedily worked themselves down into the very heart of the
husky mass, inviting dryness, comfort and sleep.
Never were mice more whist than were these boys when they
heard the provost guard forcing along the stragglers who in
turn had halted at the inviting fires for coffee and food. They
hardly breathed when they heard the same guard making a
cursory examination of the nearest end of the tobacco pile, but
when the last footstep had splashingly disappeared in the
army's rear, there was nothing left to hinder repose. The patter
of the rain upon the roof, scarcely an arm's length away, re
minded the soldiers of similar nights in far-away Northern
homes in attic chambers, when
"Every tinkle on the shingles has an echo in the heart,
And a thousand dreamy fancies into busy being start;
And a thousand recollections weave their bright hues into woof,
As we listen to the patter of the soft rain on the roof."
The rain is still falling, with no sign of cessation when with
slowly recurring thoughts of the corps and a wonder as to how
much further the boys had gone on, grateful sleep pins the eye
lids down.
Morning reveals the rain active as ever, with not a sound of
departed comrade. Being now thoroughly dried and unwilling
to waste the desiccated results of the preceding night, the
speedily convened council of war decides that punishment if
inflicted at all would be no worse if the halt were prolonged
till the storm were over, a hastily prepared breakfast is fol
lowed by a resumption of the tobacco siesta. Before noon the
clouds broke away, the sun shone out, and, when the roads
seemed passable, the 6th Corps was sought. Luckily the rain
had prevented much further progress on the preceding day, and
less than a two miles' walk revealed the flags and tents of an
army in camp, and how wet the soldiers were; where possible
they were taking sun-baths by way of compensation for the in
voluntary ducking of yesterday, while the dry and merry
stragglers were the envy of those who had sozzled through the
day and night, for the ground had been too wet to lie down
upon.

256 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
The 27th and 28th are spent in camp, a necessary fact for
securing dryness and preparation for the further march towards
Washington. It was while anchored here that Loveless, our Mech-
lenburg sable acquisition, had his confidence in his whilom pro
tectors rudely shaken and at the same an introduction to some
of the qualities of gunpowder. He and a diminutive Ethiopian
who had fastened himself upon us as we passed through Rich
mond were taking a comfortable snooze, face downward, lux
uriating in the sunlight. Removing the bullets from a number
of cartridges the powder was distributed between the legs of
the dusky sleepers. The results of applying a match to the
same produced shouts of laughter from the mischievous boys,
but the poor Africans fairly turned white with terror. There
after they had an eye out for possible fireworks.
The march of the 29th is another famous one with us, for we
start away very early in the morning, and at 9 P. M. we are en
camped near Marye's Heights of Fredericksburg, said to be
upon the very ground over which charged Burnside's men in
that fatal fray of December, 1862. On our way thither we had
forded the Mat, Ta, Po and Ny creeks, which united made the
Mattapony river, making in this little more than half a day a
distance reckoned all the way from twenty-one to twenty-three
miles. It was while taking this speedy march that General
Seymour, always so insistent on order and military decorum,
encountered a certain member of Company H. No one in the
regiment had lost more weapons, nor was there any one
who cared less for tradition. As he was taking his gunless,
go-as-you-please gait, he fell under the general's eye. At once
the latter exclaimed, "Who are you, my man, and where do
you belong?" The immediate reply, "Private Harris, Company
H, 6th Corps, by G — d," must have paralyzed the West Pointer,
for he made no further effort to secure information. Few men
in the 2d Brigade have forgotten the donkey which bore some
part of the headquarters cooking outfit, nor his exceedingly
musical voice, which was louder and stronger than a fog-horn.
Have they forgotten how they used to locate the brigade when
they straggled into camp at the close of a hot day? "Just wait
till we hear General  's jackass, and that'll tell us right
where the boys are."
It is sunrise of the 30th when we start away, passing through
Fredericksburg, with its many traces of savage war. Surely

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME. 257
the ball and shot riddled houses are the best ventilated struct
ures we have ever seen. We cross the Rappahannock on a pon
toon bridge with far less anxiety than did our brothers in 1862.
The entire way to Aquia creek is marked by the hand of devas
tation. Sentinel-like chimneys indicate where happy homes
have been. There is very little indication of cultivation of the
soil, and the section is rapidly lapsing into its primitive condi
tion. The soldier, however, is not a reflecting being, particu
larly when on a rapid march, and we were already talking of
reaching Washington, just then the 6th Corps' Mecca. The last
day of May has a forenoon's march to the vicinity of Center-
ville and an afternoon's rest, the heat being so intense that
even our leaders advise a halt.
June 1st saw the Ninth at the right of the line and stepping
off briskly, before the sun was up. Much of our distance was
accomplished before the others had started. We went into
camp near Fairfax Court House soon after noon, while the 2d
Division, which held the left, did not arrive till nightfall. The
last day's march, that of the 2d, carried us to the left, but our
hearts were light, for our journey's end was almost in sight.
There were tall men among us, and they were used to such
queries as, "George, do you see any signs of rain up there?"
or, "I say, Jim, hand me down a chaw of terbaccer." This day
the popular bit of chaff was, "Oh, John, stretch up your neck,
and tell me when you catch a glimpse of the Capitol." All this
with the interlocutor's face looking skyward.
Civilization begins to appear again, for man recuperates rap
idly, and war's worst phases were seen here in 1861. One small
house completely covered with a climbing rosebush made a last
ing picture in soldierly hearts as the route led quickly by.
Such blossoms of red and white, and the beautiful flower gen
erously bestowed by feminine hands, lightened many a weary
step on that day's march. Camp is pitched between Bailey's
cross-roads and Munson's hill, a location somewhat famous in
the earlier days of the war (General Keifer says Ball's cross
roads). Streets are laid out regularly and regular routine is followed;
varied by the distribution of soft bread, of which we had seen
very little since April 2d. Our rations, though ample, are
smaller than when on the march, for we do not need our old
supply. The 6th of June brings brigade dress-parade, the first
17

258 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
in more than two months, in which time there has been very
little of the show nature. Another parade follows on the 7th
with flag presentation to General Keifer. Evidently our head
officers like it. The great review of the Union armies had taken
place, May 22d and 23d, from which the 6th Corps was debarred
on account of its presence in southern Virginia. Our gallant
Sheridan had asked that he might remain to participate in this
pageant, but Grant had sent him to the southward to look after
Kirby Smith.
Now on June 8th, that all those who had fought to save the
Capital might, in triumph, march through its streets, the 6th
Corps and the Cavalry Division then in Washington had their
day. We marched across the Long Bridge, and thence to the
head of Pennsylvania avenue, and so through the city to George
town, where we crossed by the Aqueduct Bridge to the Virginia
side, and so proceeded back to camp. The 3d Division was on
the left and the 2d Brigade held the left of the division, col
umn closed in mass, two paces between platoons. On Pennsyl
vania avenue we took wheeling distance; a little better. Six
miles and no halt! The heat was severe, so much so that even
horse-back riders were overcome, but we saw the president,
and he saw us, though he was in the shade and we were not.
General Grant also looked on. Be it remembered that thought
ful citizens along the way kindly gave us water and food of
all kinds, else the suffering had been greater still. "A cattle-
show of men," writes one participant. Added to our discom
fiture there arose a great thunder-storm, which deluged us with
rain, driving in the dust of the march, and sending us to camp in
anything but the proud array in which we had set forth in the
morning. Reviewing and being reviewed are altogether differ
ent affairs.
Then followed a little more than a week of camp life, more
or less monotonous. We visited old friends in neighboring
camps and corps, read such papers and books as came into our
hands, and ate our rations with measurable regularity. For fun
we worked hard in blanket-tossing miscellaneous strollers of
all colors who ventured into our midst, including the small
African upon whom the gunpowder plot had been worked on
our way up from Richmond. The youngster had developed amaz
ingly, and his impudence had gotten far beyond his discretion,
when one day he completely overstepped all bounds of decorum

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME. 259
by throwing a stone through a company street. This could not
go unpunished, so the blanket was brought out and Sambo
was hustled upon it. He had been there before, but this time
he was elevated till the tossers themselves feared he would not
come down, having thrown him seemingly out of the range of
gravitation. When he was released he shook the dust of our
camp from his feet saying, "You tossed me too high entirely."
Good singers helped the early night along with songs, whose
refrain would be taken up from tent to tent. Very likely some
may recall Ed. G, who had a penchant for Irish ditties, and how
he generally led off with Finnegan's Wake, whose chorus once
having sung no one could forget. It ran like this:
"Whack, hurrah, dance to your partner,
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Listen, 'tis the truth I tell ye,
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake."
The last word, shouted from tent to tent, would be heard
gradually diminishing in canopied distance, till it was lost in
the ^trains of the following stanza. A careful inventory of all
government property is made on the 9th.
Our connection with the 6th Corps is severed June 15th, and
General Keifer issues the following order in commemoration
of the breaking up of relations so long maintained:
FAREWELL ORDER.
Headquarters 2d Brigade, 3d Division, 6th Corps, Army of
Potomac,
Camp near Washington, D. C.
June 15th, A. D., 1865.
General Orders No. 28.
Officers and Soldiers: This command will soon be broken up
in its organization. It is sincerely hoped that each man may
soon be permitted to return to his home, family and friends, to
enjoy their blessings and that of a peaceful, free and happy peo
ple. The great length of time I have had the honor to command
you has led to no ordinary attachment. The many hardships,
trials and dangers we have shared together, and the distin
guished services you have performed in camp, on the march,
and upon the field of battle, have long since endeared you to
me. I shall ever be proud to have been your commander, and
will cherish a lasting recollection of both officers and men.
Your efficient services and gallant conduct in behalf of human
rights and human freedom will not be overlooked and forgotten
by a grateful country.

260 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
I can not repress the deepest feelings of sadness upon parting
with you.
I mourn with you, and share in your sorrow, for the many
brave comrades who have fallen in battle and have been
stricken down with disease. Let us revere their memories and
emulate their noble character and goodness. A proud and great
nation will not neglect their afflicted families. The many dis
abled officers and soldiers will also be cared for by grateful
people and an affluent country.
You have a proud name as soldiers; and I trust that, at your
homes, you will so conduct yourselves that you will be honored
and respected as good citizens.
I shall part with you entertaining the sincerest feelings of
affection and kindness for all, hoping that it may be my good
fortune to meet and greet you in future as honored citizens and
friends.
J. WARREN KEIFER.
Though couched in excellent language and a valuable tribute
to our services, few thought as much of the separation then as
they did later. Then home seemed nearing, and one boy wrote,
"I can't state that I had many regrets at this separation. Didn't
feel half so bad as I did when I left home."
The same day we break camp and march to the Long Bridge.
Here we halted while Colonel Snyder wrote forward for orders.
Later we cross the bridge, and reaching Pennsylvania avenue,
follow that to 7th street, by which we leave the city and con
tinue our dusty march almost to Fort Stevens, but some coun
termarching order is received and we deflect to the left, pass
ing through Tennallytown, finally ending our march at Fort
Sumner, and others near, having covered nearly or quite twenty
miles to reach a point that we might have gained in half that
number if we had gone north from Ball's cross-roads and so
crossed Chain Bridge. The trouble was no one knew what we
had started for when we set out.
The change from our former camp to the fort is a delight to
every one, for it is elevated and spacious, the nearest fortifica
tions to the Potomac, and the intervening Delaware and Chesa
peake canal affords the best possible bathing facilities. Our
first duty is to clean house, and this we do with a will. Then
follows nominal drill, but more time is spent in going out and
back, and in lying on grassy slopes, than in the school of tbe
soldier, for which many think they have no further use. Grad
ually we get back to old mess-house days, and consequent less-

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME. 261
ening of personal work. There were pleasures in guard-duty
done along the aqueduct. No one seemed to know what we
were out there for, but we stacked arms, ate our rations, and
enjoyed life. Some of us found the culverts away down under
the road exceedingly cool, so laying saplings above the water
and spreading boughs on them they spent the most of their
time reading there, taking turns in watching the guns. 'Tis
true that they caught the colds of their lifetime in this cooler,
but it was fun. Then those swimming parties in the canal!
There was no seaside formality in bathing costume, but hun
dreds of men and boys in statu naturae disported themselves as
few have had a chance to do since.
During this wait in the forts, the order was promulgated per
mitting men to retain their guns for a nominal sum. Private
Harris, Company H, the man who so readily answered General
Seymour on our rapid march to Washington, had paid for many
guns, costing him $13 each time, but now he could get one for
f 6, but he had plans of his own. When the business was all
settled and he had a clear title to the article, he advertised a
free show in front of his barracks. When the moment came, •
there was the private and his gun, and there, too, was a big
rock which was to have a part in the play. WThen the throng
had fully gathered, Harris looked the crowd over and then
gave his shooting-iron a farewell inspection; saying, "It's mine,
boys," he raised it aloft, held by the barrel, and brought the
breech down upon the rock with a terrible whack, shouting,
"Six dollars 's better 'n thirteen, by G — d." The first blow sent
the wooden part spinning; the next drove off lock and hammer.
He pounded away till he had made kindling wood of the breech
and a hoop of the barrel, every time exclaiming, "Six dollars 's
better 'n thirteen." Thus did Private Harris spite the War De
partment. His comrades applauded, he perspired, and the gov
ernment went on just the same.
On the 17th the 1st Battalion is sent to Fort Gaines and other
points; thus B remains in Gaines; I goes to Battery Vermont;
D to Battery Cameron, and G to Batteries Parrott and Kemble.
On the same day the dress-coats so long stored in Washington
are received. June 23d one sergeant, two corporals and twelve
men are sent from "I" to Reno as provost guard. Colonel Mar
shall of the 14th New York Heavy Artillery commanding bri
gade inspects and finds fault with police and discipline. The

262 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
24th General J. Warren Keifer visits the regiments in the sev
eral forts. There are trips to Washington and Georgetown,
Cabin John Bridge and to Tennallytown. June 30th comes
muster for pay, but the most interesting event of the tarry
here is the march July 5th to Fort Totten, where the original
members of the regiment with the one-year recruits of 1864
are mustered out and all others are consolidated and trans
ferred to the 3d Battalion, Companies I, K, L and M of the 2d
New York Heavy Artillery. Never was there a better illustra
tion of the reverse of the famous adage of Mahomet and the
mountain, for in this instance more than a thousand men, many
of them just out of hospitals, marched twenty miles, because
the officer designated to do the mustering-out duty was said to
be ill and unable to make the trip to the river's side. There
must have been other officers in Washington! Suppose this
man had died, then where would we have had to march? 'Tis sad
to contemplate. So the mountain went to Mahomet; men
marched over in line; they came back as they pleased, and it
was morning of the next day before all had returned to their
camps. The 8th of July witnessed the farewells to the forts, the
march to Washington through Georgetown and the taking of
the train for Baltimore, supper at Soldiers' Rest or on rations,
and then the train for the North, not exactly palatial, for men
slept on the floor or on the tops of the cars. Elmira is gained
at 9 P. M. on the 9th. Rest for the night is sought in the bar
racks, on whose floor sleep is wooed till morn. Then the train,
the 10th, to Watkins, and by boat to Geneva! Here citizens
rally equal to the occasion, and prepare a dinner for us, to which
we can not do justice because of being marched down to the
train ; but we dispose of a part of it, and then ride to Syracuse.
Food is had at the hotels, and then we go a mile and a half to
the camp. Many improve the opportunity to go home, but they
are back to be paid off the 20th, and then come the final leave-
taking and an effectual homeward face-turning that is to be
affected by war no longer. Several boys in Company L, in token
of their affection, present Captain S. A. Howe with a plain gold
ring, to be held by him as long as he lives, a priceless souvenir
of times when wearer and giver shared dangers together. '
There was yet work for some one to do, and certain officers
labor through the entire night to perfect the pay-rolls. They

RICHMOND, WASHINGTON, AND HOME. 263
must be prepared in the best of order, for they are to be turned
over to the government of the United States for retention.
They are now, at the end of the century, so carefully retained
that no man who helped make the record, there given, can gain
a sight of the same for love nor money. Such is red tape !
The 20th of July is the day which sees the last assembling
and hears the final "Break ranks !" Only a few days less than
three years from the time when many of these men enrolled
themselves, they are clasping hands, and saying "Good-by,"
perhaps forever. They have drunken from the same canteen,
slept beneath the same poncho, shared toil and danger till the
ties that unite them are stronger than those of kindred. The
words of their commander are particularly touching, and all
love him the more for them :
colonel snyder's farewell order.
To the Soldiers of the 9th New York Artillery:
The lieutenant colonel commanding desires to express his
gratitude and thanks for your soldierly conduct, for your prompt
ness in the discharge of arduous duties since he has had the
honor to command you, in camp, on the march, and more es
pecially on the battlefield, where you have won by your true
courage the admiration of your superiors as well as the wel
come plaudits of your fellow countrymen.
Well done, good and faithful servants. Enjoy the blessings
of peace, the fruits of your labors. Your reward is written in
the history of the nation. From the North Anna to Cold Har
bor, and in the grand flank movement to Petersburg ; thence to
Maryland on the plains of Monocacy, down the length and
breadth of the Shenandoah valley, at Opequon, Cedar Creek,
and then again to Petersburg; and finally at the last great
struggle of the expiring Rebellion at Sailor's Creek, — you have
shown your untiring zeal, fortitude and bravery, and you en
joy to-day that peace which is only commensurate with the long,
noble service and sacrifices you have made for your country.
You have demonstrated that the citizen soldier is equal to the
task, whether to cope with a foreign adversary or crush a civil
rebellion. And now as you return to your homes to resume the
different avocations you left, may heaven's blessings attend you.
Soldiers, farewell! By order of LIEUT. COL. SNYDER.
Vincent A. Kenyon, lieutenant and adjutant.
No history can accompany every man to his home and record
the happy greetings there. Some hearths are shadowed, for

264 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
many a gallant son who went forth as bravely as those now re
turning has fallen in his country's defense, and there must ever
be a vacant chair; but these men who doff their blue and as
sume once more the habiliments of peace are again absorbed
into the great public, all the better for their trials and tests
of strength and valor. i
War for them is ended, but its lessons they will pass on to
their children and their children's children as the grandest
heritage it is theirs to give. When many years shall have ren
dered more remote the trying days of 1861'65, descendants of
these men, recalling ancestral courage, will fight over again
their fathers' battles and, as the crowning praise of those de
parted, exclaim, "They did their duty!"

CHAPTER XXIV.
Those Who Were Left Behind.
All did not go home when the regiment set its face towards
the Empire State. The dates of muster-in for Companies M and
L were later than those of the other ten companies, and there
were recruits who had joined all along during the more than
two preceding years. As the war was over, many of these
boys could never understand just why they were retained, but
held they were till well into the next October, and in this time
many of them put up as stiff a game of playing soldiering as any
equal number of men ever did.
Those remaining were consolidated into a battalion of four
companies, I, K, L and M, and all under the command of Major
S. B. Lamoreaux, and as such became a part of the 2d New
York Heavy Artillery. This was the decree of authority, and
kicking did no good. It would have been some relief to the
vexation of this retention if any one could ever find out the
slightest use that they were to the country, but our opinions
were not sought, and we had to just grin and bear it, though
it might as well be said at once thata great many did not bear it.
They took French leave, so many that the rolls are a disgrace
to any government that made such a condition possible. Men
who had carried guns from the first day at Cold Harbor till

THOSE WHO WERE LEFT BEHIND. 265
that glorious hour at Appomattox, who had traveled across the
state to Danville and had followed Truman Seymour on his
steeple-chase to Washington, and all without any more than
the regulation grumbling, said they'd be blowed, or something
like that, if they would stay any longer, so they, in the language
of the day, "lit out." Mentioning this fact to an officer who
attained high rank during the war and whom every veteran
in our regiment thoroughly respects, and asking him his advice
as to the treatment of these cases, he said: "The history is that
of the Ninth, not of the Second. The record of the men should
close with the regiment in which they enlisted," and this course
has been pursued. At Albany, where the rolls are so often con
sulted with reference to pensions, one is told that desertion
after the close of the war, when men were thus retained, is not
considered a heinous offense, and that the record is invariably
reversed when the proper application is made. It was a very
different matter from leaving when the fight was on and the
nation was in need of every man who could be obtained. Many
a veteran is now enjoying all that goes with a long and patri
otic career, though the record on the last muster-out roll was
"deserted." The wonder is that more men did not thus depart.
One good member of the battalion that was held thus, says that
he had been arrested for some trivial offense, and smarting
under the disgrace, as he esteemed it, had made up his mind
to take his departure with out leave or license, when he chanced
to fall in with a man much older than himself who was know
ing to the circumstances and, apparently, read the boy's
thoughts. He said to the aggrieved lad, "I know how you feel,
and I sympathize with you, but you must not do anything rash,
anything that you will regret in coming years, or that will
bring shame to those at home. Your record is a good one;
don't let any shade fall upon it. All this trouble will be over
ere many days, and I advise you to stick it out." Unfortunate
ly all the discontented ones were not so well advised and went
away almost in squads.
A little before our late comrades were getting their pay in
Syracuse, their relicts were ordered over to the Virginia side of
the Potomac. Accordingly we proceeded to Georgetown, that
same quaint old burg so often visited by us, and crossed by the
Aqueduct Bridge, again treading the soil of "Ole Virginny."
Thence we turned to our right and going northward, we became

266 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
the guardians of the precious earthworks in this part of the de
fenses. At least Forts Ethan Allen, C. F. Smith and Strong
came under our care, perhaps others. Had it not been so vexa
tious to men who had plans in life, whom this holding seriously
hindered, the soldiering that we did here would be simply ridic
ulous. Very few Americans can become soldiers by trade, i. e.,
private soldiers, content with the dull routine of camp-duty.
It may do for officers, but even they tire of it and often retire
to civil life.
However, the privates couldn't retire; duties such as they
were had to be done. Those who went to Fort Strong retain
anything but pleasant memories of that first night in the bar
racks, which looked well enough on the outside, and within
did not differ essentially from the many others which they had
sampled in their experience. Confidently they spread their
blankets in the bunks, and in due time put out their lights and
undertook to sleep, but the slumber that we got that night was
not worth mentioning. All the swearing of the campaigns of
1864 and '65 did not begin to equal that of this one interval.
Oaths came singly and in volleys. There were oaths English
and in all the dialects represented in the company. There were
oaths imprecatory and oaths supplicatory. Every word that had
ever been used "in vain," this night had a forcible reproduction.
One listener who did not swear (he is uncertain whether he had
any associates in that category) says that he was awakened by
the chorus of loud talk and certain disagreeable sensations
about his body, particularly his neck, which he constantly
rubbed, owing to the irritation there, and each stroke of his
hand brought the disagreeable odor of bedbugs. Evidently
every man in the barracks was doing the same, and it was no
figure of speech to say that bug -juice was in the air. Morning
revealed strange sights. Each man in the company had a blood-
red streak around his neck, and it was composed of his own
blood, too. An inspection of our quarters was held at once,
and though the slaughter of the night had been terrible, there
were yet millions left. The rough ends of each bunk-board
was red with bugs, and there was not a crack nor crevice of the
old rookery that did not hold its thousands. We were men of
blood, we had passed through bloody scenes, but we had never
thought to shed our life current in any such vile manner as
this.

DRUM CARRIED BY JOHN H. DEVOE, CO. G, 1862-18

COMPANY M, CAPT. W. I. PARRISH, FORT ETHAN ALLEN.

THOSE WHO WERE LEFT BEHIND. 267
Morning had scarcely more than dawned before we proceeded
to give that long structure the cleaning of its existence, an
experience one might think it had never had before. Every
thing inside and out was drenched in scalding water, and when
the next taps came we were ready for sleep, and the edifice
continued sweet and clean till the 29th of the month, when
there came a storm of wind and rain that completely wiped out.
the barracks and rendered us shelterless. It was one of those
sudden cyclones for which all warm sections and seasons are
noted, only this was somewhat in excess of any one that we
had ever encountered. Possibly it was about the middle of the
afternoon. A storm of rain accompanied by some wind gradu
ally increased in violence till the edifice began to creak, and ner
vous men made their exit in spite of the wet. Others, more con
fident, kept their places till the roof began to lift and the rain
to beat through the rapidly enlarging cracks; then they made
leaps for their lives, getting out none too soon, for the entire
roof was lifted, carried some distance and thrown down turned
almost completely around. We had taken no covering, in most
cases, and as if cognizant of this the weather proceeded to de
velop the worst hail-storm that we had as yet beheld. The
stones were as large as robin's eggs, and one had to hold his
hands over his head for protection. An ice-cream wagon had
come up from Washington, and was waiting at our east door
when the storm came. In very short order it was so mixed
up that it might be doubted if the proprietor knew which was
driver and which was horse; at any rate, the on-lookers would
not have risked a guess. The sight of men holding on to trees
to keep themselves from being blown away, we had seen in
books descriptive of West India hurricanes, but nothing of the
sort had ever come under our observations before.
If the storm had only blown away some of the useless forts
that we were supposed to be guarding instead of the shelters
above our heads, we might have regarded the same as not an
unmixed evil. As it was, while men were seriously injured
in some of the forts, for ours was not the only line of barracks
to suffer, we escape with only minor bruises. In the city many
roofs were lifted, and the "oldest inhabitant" said he had never
seen its equal. The immediate effect upon the dwellers in Fort
Strong was a picking up of their wet effects and a departure to
Fort C. S. Smith, where we put up our tents on the founda-

268 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
tions where had formerly stood barracks, since this place suf
fered just the same as we did.
If there had been a thousand years of life before us and we
had no definite plans in living, the stay in these forts might
have been enjoyed. As it was there was a dull succession of
inspection, parades of all sorts and the make-believe guard-
duty that was hardly creditable to any one concerned. The
constant query with us was, "What are we here for?" "To eat
hardtack," says one intelligent soldier. "Don't you see the
government has so many boxes of hardbread, and if we don't
stay to eat it, some of it will be thrown away." Those conver
sant with the subject assert that the worms found in the boxes
this summer, were the largest and fattest they had ever seen.
Many men assert that boxes of tack came to the forts in the
summer of 1865 bearing the date of 1861. Someone of statistical
tendencies once, before opening the box, took it in hand and gave
it several severe thumps upon the ground, thus settling any
easily moved contents to one corner. Then removing the cover
he carefully measured the living, squirming mass so concen
trated, and found a full pint and a half. This may have been
above or below the average.
The mess-rooms had not suffered with the general destruction,
and from that of Fort Smith the Capitol was plainly visible. Sit
ting there at dinner one day, a man remarks: "I can see the
Goddess of Liberty." "Oh, bother," says an unsentimental com
rade, "can you see any soft bread there?"
Here occurred a serious infraction of discipline that earlier
in our service would have brought condign punishment upon
us. At dinner a company took exceptions to the food, and
swept everything from the tables to the floor. The whole com
pany was at once placed under arrest, the next company being
put over as guards. At supper, the third company, having a
like grievance, just lifted the tables into the air, and turning
them over deposited the whole outfit, bottom side up, on the
floor. There was no other company to guard this one, so the
officers declared "all bets off," and let us begin over again.
'Tis said that table service was thereafter improved.
Were there amusements? To tell the truth there wasn't
much else. The facilities for bathing in the Potomac were ex
cellent. Passes could be obtained easily for the exploration of
the neighboring country, and trips to Arlington were common.

THOSE WHO WERE LEFT BEHIND. 269
Did we tire of mess-house fare, there were numerous restaurants
easily accessible where a small sum secured a good dinner, and
when night came the cleared-away platforms of some of the
destroyed barracks afforded fine opportunities for dancing.
Such dancing! There was little of the polish of the schools in
it, but it was vigorous. A handkerchief tied to an arm indi
cated a member of the fair sex, who was led out blushingly to
the floor in a Virginia reel, or to go through the figures in a
plain quadrille. Home talent furnished music, which, if not
exactly classical, was understood, and on pleasant evenings
"lights out" always came too soon. It was a hilarious company
that looked on and that participated, but what possible good
were we doing for our country or for ourselves?
Some men wearying of the monotony secured details through
General O. O. Howard in Washington and went into the em
ploy of the Freedmen's Bureau, thereby getting an absolutely
unique experience in finding out the ways of the former bond
men. They visited Vienna, Leesburg and other places in the
discharge of their duties, but in the main were in Alexandria,
at the headquarters there.
While the non-commissioned officers and privates were thus
fretting over their detention, there were men high in rank in
the regiment who were quite content. Of course the general
sentiment of the men was well known, for no one made the
least secret of his feelings. A Company M man who was doing
hostler duties at regimental headquarters almost gave his fel
lows a convulsion on reciting to them the substance of a conver
sation indulged in by the wife of our Colonel Whistler while
he was driving her and a friend to Washington. The good lady
could not understand why the men were so anxious to go home.
saying, "The canals will soon be closed, and there will be noth
ing for them to do. Besides, we are situated so nicely here.
The children are in the city schools, and they are driven back
and forth each day. I do hope the men will stop their com
plaining and let things go on as they are."
There were men in the ranks who had plans for the future
quite as reasonable as those of the colonel's wife — plans, too,
that they would have been quite content to carry out at their
own expense and not, at that of the government. There were
future lawyers, doctors, clergymen and business men whom
this nonsense was throwing out of a clear year of their respect
ive lives.

270 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
It must be said that to the soldier who liked to draw his
rations when and where he chose, the neighborhood of these
forts furnished unrivaled facilities. Fruit was abundant, and
vegetables were never better. If the private didn't have all
that the glad earth produced, it was because he was too lazy
to go and get it or too honest to steal it, though the latter
objection was seldom evident at this stage of soldiering in these
southern latitudes. What a relief the departure of the last
regiment must have been to the farmers of this much ravaged
locality! To be able to reap where they had sown and to gather
their own fruit must have been a delight indescribable. Says
one irate farmer in the presence of the very man who had helped
himself to Agricola's potatoes the night before, "Them d — d
niggers are stealing me poor." "Perhaps it's the soldiers," says
a listener. "Soldiers — not much ; no white man could take stuff
that way. Why, they just dig the potatoes right out with
their fingers. They left the print of them. No, sir, it's niggers
every time." One of his most interested listeners was a man
who had proved his devotion to the Southern cause by selling
all his real estate and investing the proceeds in Confederate
bonds. What a house of sand!
If we had been disposed to learn, we might have gained a deal
in our instruction while here, for Colonel Whistler was a West
Pointer, but what did we care for guns, swabs, caissons, calibre
et id omne genus ? The war was over. That was the cry forever
in the air and on our lips, and we had no use for the knowledge,
however prized it might have been had it come months before,
when we were intent on making ourselves ready for the trials
that might be ours.
During the last of August many of us, particularly those who
had been in rebel prisons, were much interested in the trial of
Captain Wirz for his cruel treatment of prisoners in Anderson
ville, and we made as many visits as possible to Washington
while the case was in progress. We found presiding over the
investigation our old commander at Monocacy, General Lew
Wallace, and his judicial training had here a good opportunity
for display. At the same time it appeared to be a chance to
develop the inhumanity of Confederate treatment of Union
prisoners, and only incidentally a trial ofjWirz, who had simply
carried out the orders of his superiors. His fate was sealed
from the beginning, but even men who had suffered at his hands

THOSE WHO WERE LEFT BEHIND.

271

could not help passing sentiments of pity when they beheld the
culprit, so far gone with consumption that he had to repose
upon a couch, being unable to sit during the sessions of the
court. While his death by hanging the following November
was fully merited, it has seemed somewhat strange, in the sub
sequent years, to see those who directed him restored to all
their ante-bellum privileges. Again, some of us could never
understand how a liberty-loving Swiss, for he was from Helve-

LEW WALLACE, IN WAR TIMES.

tia, could ever have been induced to do such dirty work. Tt
must have been the result of bad company.
A word as to the regiment in which we found ourselves.
The 2d Regiment of New York Heavy Artillery had been in
'service much longer than the Ninth, or better, the original or
ganization was formed in 1861 as a regiment of light artillery.
It passed through various changes and vicissitudes, and finally
settled down in 1862, like our own regiment, to breastwork mak
ing in the defenses. Of course the two years' enlistment expired

272 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
in 1863, but new and re-enlistments had kept up the organiza
tion. Here it remained till, like ourselves, it was routed out
by Grant and sent to the front, reaching that dangerous locality
May 18th, about one week before our own advent. Good service
was rendered thence onward as a part of the 2d Corps, and like
the Ninth, it came back to the defenses in June, 1865. Colonel
J. N. G. Whistler and Lieutenant Colonel George Hogg were
entitled to our highest respect, and received the same, but we
didn't like the order that united us. Those who were entitled
to discharges had received them, and their residue had been
formed into eight companies, thus making two battalions. The
men were principally from Oneida, Herkimer and New York
counties, and the record they made was an excellent one, but
the first veteran of our regiment is yet to be found who ever an
nounces himself as other than a member of the 9th New York
Heavy. His discharge paper may read one way, but he always
talks another.
The longest night has an end, and there came a day when
the bonds inclosing us were loosed and we were directed home
ward. It came about through Special Order No. 220, Depart
ment of Washington, dated September 8th, 1865. Our dis
charge papers bore date September 29th, but we did not leave
Washington till after the 1st of October, going by way of Phil
adelphia, there enjoying Cooper Shop hospitality once more,
and thence to New York city, where by boat we were trans
ported to Hart's island in the upper part of East river, having
the very quarters formerly occupied by rebel prisoners, thus
giving some of us a chance to compare their accommodations
with those we had not enjoyed, but endured when in Confeder
ate keeping. The general verdict was that the rebs had fared
well. As soon as muster-out and pay-rolls could be prepared, the
men were paid in full and allowed to depart. The record was
completed, and October 10th those who had been left behind
in that July separation were as free as their fellows who had
been enjoying three full months of liberty. It did not take long
for steam to transport the boys to western New York and to
what all of them prized most highly — their homes.

MISCELLANEOUS. 273
CHAPTER XXV.
Miscellaneous. incidents.
First One Killed. — The first person in the regiment to be killed
by gunshot was a woman, Mrs. Chauncey Hale. She came to
the company during the winter of 1862 and 1863, and was de
tailed as laundress for the company. The captain of Company
F built a house for the Hales at the foot of the company street,
and here Hale, his wife and two children lived happily until
the sad accident occurred which ended the life of his wife. One
morning after Hale had been on guard-duty and had come to
his quarters for his breakfast, and while he was yet at the
table, the call for guard-mount was sounded ; he hurriedly arose
from the table and hastily putting on his equipments, his wife
assisting him, and as she buckled his belt she gave him a push,
saying playfully, "Hurry now, or you will get pricked and put
on extra duty for being late." He held his gun in his hands,
his thumb on the hammer, and in the same playful manner
answered, "Take care or I will shoot you." The gun was a
Belgian rifle and went off half cocked, his thumb slipped and
the gun was discharged, the large bullet passing through her
head, scattering her brains over her motherless children. Hale '
was nearly distracted with grief. The eompany had the re
mains embalmed and sent home. The children were placed in
the Orphan Asylum at Auburn, N. Y. Hale was never himself
after this sad occurrence, but seemed broken-hearted and de
spondent. He remained in the service, however, till the end of
the war. Tide page 52.
The Shell Burst. — Soon after this sad affair, another accident,
if it could be called an accident, happened in the same company.
A man by the name of Moody found a 30-pound shell, and
brought it into camp. This was just after the company had
moved to Fort Bayard. He took out the fuse, and emptied
part of the powder out and then went to Conrad Bostler, a
little German that was detailed to assist the company cooks,
and told him that if he would drop a coal of fire in the shell
he would see some sport, as it would make a great squib. The
shell was near the head of the company street and near the
18

274 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
captain's quarters. So Conney, as the litttle Dutchman was
called, dropped the coal of fire in, and there was a great ex
plosion. Two boys, Chauncey Runyan and Alpheus Long,
were badly wounded, Runyan losing his foot; Long's limb was
saved. Several more of the men narrowly escaped with their
lives. Moody made his escape during the excitement of caring
for the wounded, and was never captured. Vide page 53.
He Got Left. — The boys of the old 138th will remember that
Company — had a fine-looking lieutenant; his mustache was
coal black, and he took with the ladies, and although he was
a married man, he delighted in a little flirtation with the girls
when the opportunity presented itself. On the trip to New
York after leaving Auburn on the way to Washington, the
train stopped at Schenectady. The girls as usual flocked to
the station to see the soldiers, and the dashing lieutenant lost
no time in getting up a flirtation. So absorbed was he with the
fair onesi, he did not hear the warning whistle, or the "all
aboard" of the conductor, and the consequence was the train
pulled out without him, and he did not catch us till we got to
New York city. The boys took in the situation, said nothing,
but waited for the proper time to come. Now the lieutenant
was an expert drill-master, one of the very best in the regiment,
and he delighted in drilling; he was ambitious to put Company
F at the head, as one of the best drilled companies. He would
march backward before the company with the hilt of his sword
in his right and the point in his left hand, and as his left foot
would come to the ground he would call out "Left, left, left,"
when one of the mischievous boys who had become weary,
answered back "At Schenectady." The drill for the time being
was suspended, and never more did the lieutenant call out
"Left, left," but after that day he was very careful to keep the
cadence of the step by calling out "Hep, hep, hep."
How He Got Out. — When the regiment was in the old camp at
Auburn, and was full, ready to march, the discipline was very
strict; passes' were granted only in exceptional cases; the
guards were doubled to prevent any of the men from getting
outside of the lines, but there was one man by the name of
 . He was called by the boys, even at that early day in
the life of the regiment, "Whiskey Bill." This slippery fellow
would elude the vigilance of the guard, and would go and come
at his pleasure. But on the last days of the regiments remain-

MISCELLANEOUS. 275
ing in camp, a close watch was kept on Bill, but on the last
afternoon of the last day, word came to the captain that Bill
had gone. The police guard were hustled out at double-quick,
Colonel Seward's private carriage had just come on the grounds,
and the captain sprang into the carriage by the side of the
lieutenant colonel. The driver put on the lash, and away they
went towards the city, to intercept if possible the escaping sol
dier. The guards had got the start of the officers, and by the
time they had arrived at the intersection of the river with the
street the guards had captured their man, and were bringing
him back to camp. Colonel Seward and the captain turned
their carriage and drove alongside of the guard and their pris
oner. Now the corporal in charge of the squad was unarmed,
as arms were not over-plenty nor over-effective, and as the un
armed corporal walked by the side of his unarmed prisoner,
some one in the great crowd of people that was thronging the
street remarked, "Well, you have got a prisoner, sure; what did
he do? what caused his arrest?" etc., and Bill, the prisoner,
grasping the situation, quick as a flash, answered back, "Oh,
the mean cuss was trying to desert, but I nabbed him," and the
poor corporal hung his head ; was so dumbfounded he could not
make an explanation. Bill's head was up in the air and the
poor corporal easily passed as the prisoner. The guard marched
their prisoner to the guard-house, which stood on the side-hill,
the front level with the ground, while the back was five or six
feet above the ground, and for this reason no guard was sta
tioned at the back where there was a window. Bill saw the
open window, turned to the officer of the guard, made a low
bow, saluted him in military style, ran to the back window,
sprang through to the ground and was soon lost in the great
crowd. The mystery of his getting through the guards was
found out. He would go to the cook-house, which was situated
on the bank of the river, inside the lines of course, and the
water to supply the cook-house was all carried from the river
by men especially detailed for this purpose. Bill saw his op
portunity, and taking advantage of the same, he would go to
the cook-housej take two of the pails and start for the river;
the guards thinking he was one of the detail would let him pass
without challenge, and when he got over the river bank, he
would throw away his pails, go to the city, get drunk and have
a general blow-out.

276 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Poor Bill, though he was wild, never thought of deserting,
but was one of the bravest of the brave, and on many a hard-
fought field he would sing, "Rally round the flag," and other
lively songs, to cheer on the boys. He served to the end of the
war. He Didn't Put It In. — Some of the men who enlisted to defend
the flag in its hour of peril were not possessed of a college
diploma, not even the educational ability to write a letter to the
dear ones at home. This disability was hard to bear, especially
when there was a young girl at home connected with the cir
cumstances. What can not be cured must be endured, so they
did the best they could under the circumstances, These young
men would find some one who could spread ink well, and they
would lay in with him to write letters to Mary Ann and Susan
Jane at home.
Charles Greenfield was an experienced school teacher before
enlistment, and he was selected to do much of this correspond
ing where so many tender lines were needed. Charley was
conducting a love correspondence for an Auburn boy and was
doing his level best for his patron. As he was gifted with the
faculty of writing poetry as well as prose, he got this corre
spondence up on high G, and he put in so many high-sounding
words, expressive of so much love, he was sorely puzzled how
to get down to earth, once more and properly end this red-hot
love-letter. He has told me in confidence, since the war, that
he could see no way to properly end that letter but to pop the
question, fair and square. But for this he hardly dared to take
the responsibility, so in his perplexity he called the man he
was writing for, and privately asked what more the man wanted
to be put in that particular letter, thinking that the man would
suggest something that would help him out, or at least ease
him down from the high and lofty perch on which he now was,
for Charley had just filled that letter with high-sounding love
words and phrases. The man says, "Read the letter and let me
hear what you have wrote to her," so Charley read the letter,
the big words nearly choking him, and the lines were so ten
der they would hardly hold together. The man listened with
all earnestness, hearing every word and comprehending but a
few of them perhaps, until the last one was read. "And now,"
said the writer, "what more shall I say to her?" The man
turned his head on one side, scratched it for a moment, and

MISCELLANEOUS. 277
slapping Charley on the shoulder said, "You just put in agri
culture, and let that letter go." Of course "agriculture" was
Greek to him, but he thought it was a large word and was a
fitting finale to his high-toned love-letter.
The Chaplain. — All of the old boys well remember Chaplain
Mudge, and how well the good man loved to hunt quails.
When the regiment was guarding Washington, building forts,
making roads, etc., the staff officers had a picnic, but when we
went to the front, the long marches came, sometimes lasting
all night. It was after one of these long and dusty, weary night
marches the regiment was filing into a field for breakfast. The
colonel and his staff sat on their horses as the men filed in; the
good chaplain was covered with dust, nearly dead for want of
sleep, his eyes filled with sand, and as Company F passed in,
one of the boys saw the forlorn condition of the preacher, and
perhaps to encourage him, or to put him in remembrance of the
happy days now past and gone, he called out, "Hello, chaplain!
do you find any quails down here?" laying emphasis on "quails."
The boys shouted with laughter, and for the time being forgot
how tired they were ; even the chaplain smiled.
"For Your Coffee." — In speaking of the boy who saluted the
chaplain as narrated above, I am reminded of another instance,
which furnished quite a lot of fun for the boys. It was at the
Battle of Cedar Creek when Sheridan was twenty miles away,
as the boys well remember the old Ninth and the 6th Maryland
were thrown out as a forlorn hope to stay the awful tide of on
coming rebels. We lay on the ground waiting for the gray
host, which was coming on double-quick. The order is, "Hold
your fire, men, until you are ordered to fire." It was a trying
time for the men — the stragglers from the two broken corps
rushing over them, the heavy fire of the on-coming Johnnies;
but not a gun was fired until the order came, "Attention, fire !"
This boy, who was from Auburn, and had a habit of beginning
every sentence with "And say," sprang to his feet, brought
down his musket with a slam, and said, "And say" as he pulled
the trigger, "put that in your coffee, and before that is cold
I will give you another one."
The President's Quid. — While the regiment lay at Camp Mor
ris, D. C, President Lincoln and Secretary W. H. Seward visited
the regiment, and the officers were presented to the president
and the secretary after the dress-parade. While the presiden-

278 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
tial party was looking on the parade, Mr. Lincoln threw out a
chew of tobacco onto the parade-ground. One of the boys of
— Company saw it, and when the parade was dismissed he went
and picked up the old chew and, wrapping it carefully in a
paper, prepared to save the same as a souvenir, but the boys
teased him so unmercifully and put other old chews with the
president's, that the poor man threw away the whole outfit.
What a relic that would be to-day! Fit companion to Washing
ton's false teeth.
No Best Even in Death. — The body of Lieutenant Stoyell had
not been beneath the sod of the cemetery of his own Moravia
a month when the severest freshet in the history of the town
swept through the village, not only destroying buildings, but
actually wiping out parts of the cemetery through undermining
it. We are told that about an acre of ground was thus washed
away and the landmarks effectually destroyed. Among other
bodies thus disturbed was that of Lieutenant Stoyell. As the
coffin was swept down the stream, it was followed by a strong
swimmer, who succeeded in grasping one of the handles and
finally swam with it to a clump of willows, near which he
secured it till the waters subsided and the casket could be
again interred. The man who thus risked his own life for the
body of a friend was Alonzo Arnold, a discharged soldier of the
111th New York.
Gold Harbor. — June 3d as the regiment was moving up to the
charge, Sergeant Jefferson L- Martin said to his comrades, "I
shall not come out of this alive." Of course he was rallied for
his forebodings, but the company had not gone far in the woods,
with the bullets flying like hail-stones, before Martin was shot
through the body. There on bended knees he gave his watch,
pocket-book and other keepsakes to John Hutchinson to be
delivered to his mother and sister in Cayuga. Good-by was
said, and the line moved on. The watch was loaned to Dr.
Chamberlain, and when he was captured, was taken by the
rebels. The other items with the dying message were taken to
the loved ones as requested.
Monocacy. — "I left by the railroad-bridge, and I could feel
my heart thump my vest every step at the sight of the poor boys
in the river, some wading, others floating by, some wounded,
slowly climbing the banks, and all the time the air was full of
lead and iron. On getting across, I saw four men carrying an

MISCELLANEOUS. 279
officer on a stretcher. A shell burst very close, when one of the
men said, 'That finishes him,' and they lay the body down.
Four soldiers are carrying a wounded man in a piece of tent.
One of them giving out, I took his place, trying to reach a
covered wagon, but it hurries off when we are only twenty feet
away. We lay the boy down and he does not complain, only
says, 'Good-by.' A bursting shell kills one of those with me,
hits me in the hand and goes through my haversack. Then a
bullet grazes my thigh and I am in a bad way, when a cavalry
man offers me a ride and we escape."
For a Chance to Pray. — One of the youngest boys in the regi
ment was A. B. of — Company, though these were not his ini
tials. His Sunday school superintendent began raising a com
pany, so the mother was willing that the lad should enlist.
The religious meetings held in the regiment have been repeated
ly mentioned. At one of them, while the regiment was making
forts, the boy experienced religion, and being a lad of sterling
parts, he intended to live up to his professions, but he found
difficulty in attending to his duties as he thought he ought.
When the company with others came back to the defenses, in
the summer of 1864, he had more trouble than ever in finding
a moment of quiet for the praying he wished to do.
He stood it as long as he could, but finally settled with his
own conscience that it would not be wrong to "run the guard"
in order to get a chance to pray. Of course it would be a viola
tion of order, and if caught he would be placed under arrest;
still, he determined to run the risk, Accordingly, one night
after "taps," when the camp lights were all out, stealing quietly
around the corner of the captain's tent, and waiting till the
guard was up at the other end of his beat, A. B. ran quickly
over the rifle-pit, and in a minute more was hidden in the
shadow of a large oak-tree which stood a few rods away. Here
(he knelt by a large stone, and, in a low tone of voice which
could not reach the guard, "prayed to his Father in secret."
Refreshed in spirit, he returned as he came, successfully eluding
the vigilance of the guard. Night after night was this repeated
with like success, until Company — was ordered to rejoin the
regiment and return to the front.
In the final breaking up before Petersburg, the boy was sur
prised at having his commanding officer say to him, "I am
afraid I shall not come out of this fight alive, and I should like

280 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
to have you stay as near me as possible," but the officer came
through all right while the lad was wounded. Before he got
back to the regiment the war was over and the boys were dis
charged. In the following winter, at revival meetings in Au
burn, A. B. was doing his part, though in a silent way, till one
night he heard a negative given to the minister who asked a
gentleman, sitting back of him, to go forward for prayers.
Turning about A. B. saw his old commander, and he was moved
to ask him to do what he had just declined doing. He yielded,
and with his soldier-boy went down the aisle to the altar, where
he was converted. When there came an opportunity, the ex-
officer arose and spoke.
A man of ability and a good speaker, his words were received
with intense interest by the large congregation. He began by
describing the little fort north of Washington that had been
garrisoned by Company — under his command nearly two years
before. Imagine our boy's surprise as he proceeded to tell of the
mysterious manner in which a young soldier frequently ran the
guard immediately opposite the commander's quarters after
"taps" at night, returning each time after a few minutes' ab
sence. Picture his further agitation when the captain related
how curiosity, as well as regard for camp discipline, had im
pelled him to follow the offender one night, when, to his amaze
ment, he discovered that the man had run the guard in order
to get a chance to pray.
Then said the officer, "I went back to my quarters resolved
that I would never arrest a man for running the guard to
pray. It was on account of his way of living that I wanted him
near me in the Petersburg fight when I expected to go under.
To-night there was only one man in the world who could have
induced me to take the step that I have taken, and that was
this soldier-boy, and I thank God that he took me by the hand
to do as I have done."
The officer, still a young man, became a preacher of the Gos
pel, and is now the pastor of a large Baptist Church in Califor
nia. A. B. prepared for college, was graduated with honor
from an eastern college, and for many years has been one of the
most successful clergymen in the Methodist Church. This
praying episode has somewhat the flavor of Washington and
his prayers at Valley Forge.

MISCELLANEOUS. 281
A Wounded Dutchman. — At Opequon creek a member of our
band was helping in the hospital, and had in hand a Dutchman
whose side had been struck by a bullet. The missile had taken
an upward turn on striking one of the lower ribs, but his cloth
ing was stiff with blood and he was faint from hunger and loss
of blood. He stood trembling and shaking like an aspen leaf,
saying, "Dot bullet got into me somehow. I don't leeve any
more. Oh, my poor leetle family!" He shook so badly that the
attendant had difficulty in helping him, and finally said, "Keep
still and stand up if you can." At this moment as the wounded
man's garments were moved the bullet dropped into the
helper's hand. "Oh, mein Gott," says Dutchy, "dot tarn bullet
got out from me somehow," and he was a live man from that
moment. He ceased trembling, drank a cup of warm coffee.
after having his side dressed, went to bed on some clean straw,
and in less than ten minutes was fast asleep.
He Shot too Close. — There is not a man of Company F but re
members Lyman Coleman. Well, Lyman was with the com
pany on that never-to-be-forgotten day, October 19th, 1864.
Sheridan had come, and we were on the fierce charge that swept
the rebels like chaff before us. The ranks had been filled by
men from any and all companies ; the orders were "fall in where
you are." The result was that strangers were in the ranks.
It so happened that a tall man from some other regiment fell
in the front rank just before Coleman. All went well till we
cleared the woods and came to the open field. Before us was a
small ravine and, just over this swale or ravine, the rebels were
posted in full force, and they met us as we came out of the
woods with a deadly fire. Indeed, it seemed as if nothing could
live under it. The line wavered for a moment, and then down
the slope they started, the tall stranger just in front of Cole
man. As the fire was hot and Lyman was anxious to put in his
work, he brought up his musket and fired; he was not over-
careful perhaps, and the consequence was, he fired so close to
the head of the man in front that the latter's hair and ears were
badly burned, and the man was as mad as a hornet. He turned
about to poor Coleman and said in angry tones, "You old
scoundrel, you shot so near my head you have nearly killed me,"
etc., "and I am going to whip you," and he held his gun in his
hand while preparing to chastise poor Lyman. We took in the
situation of things, and saw there was a chance for fun, so we

282 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
yelled out, "Stand up to him, Coleman; we'll stand by you."
Lyman gathered courage and said to his antagonist in his
squeaking voice, peculiar to him, "See here, you son of a gun,
if you want to fight so bad, right down there is plenty of rebels
to fight without licking me." Well, there is a serious question
in my mind to this day whether General Sheridan or Lyman
Coleman did the most at that particular time to steady us and
cheer us on.
He Lived. — Soon after the 6th Corps returned from the Shen
andoah, and had joined the Army of the Potomac, Company L
of the 9th was put in charge of Battery Lee, located about a
half mile to the left of the signal tower, and near the angle
where the reverse rear line began its curve, this battery was
composed of six thirty-pound Parrott guns, and a battery of
six Cohorn mortars, mounted at reserve picket three-fourths
of a mile in front of the battery. On the 25th of March, when
the 2d Brigade charged and pressed back the enemy's pickets
close under their main line, the writer was on detail with the
mortar battery, and as General Keifer had ordered our officers
not to use the mortars, since their distance from the enemy
would not admit of effective service, we were at liberty to see
the "show." A portion of the brigade had massed on both
flanks, and a little to the rear of the picket-post; their move
ments could be easily seen by us. As the charge was progress
ing in fine style, we noticed the rifle-pits, scattered quite thickly
over the field, held nearly all of them a soldier, no doubt as
rear guard(?) — so convenient to fall into in passing, and so decid
edly safe, but that horrible gang, the provost guard, soon dis
turbed their quiet with their "  get to the front, 
git!" I noticed one soldier start from a rifle-pit, with gun at a
charge as though he proposed to take the Confederacy alone.
He had gone about five rods when he fell as prone as if struck
with a solid shot, his knapsack flying over his head and lying
in front of him. We spoke together of that "poor fellow," that
he had made his last charge, etc. The balls up to this time
had been reminding one of a hail-storm, and no one wondered
that he should fall. There was a certain fascination in looking
at this "fallen hero." After fifteen minutes or so, I saw our
prostrate friend slowly raise his head and take a look over the
top of his knapsack. Some one said, "Guess that boy will live
to fight another day." Sure enough, when the hail let up a

MISCELLANEOUS. 283
little, he got up very nimbly for a "dead man," and such a move
for the rear, no man ever made before.
BETWEEN THE LINES.
Between the lines in the gloaming,
When battle has sunk to rest,
And the boom and shock of cannon
Are hushed as a maiden's breast,
The vidette, as he stands watching,
Or marches his lonely beat,
Is thinking of home and dear ones
Gathered at their mother's feet.
Then it is the sounds of camp-life
Come sweetly on evening air,
The bugle and good-night drum-beat
Sound "lights out," that banish care;
Yet faintly and still more faintly,
Their cadence will softly fall
On our ears as we dreamily listen
To the good-night bugle-call.
There come from a distant bastion,
That floats high the "Stars and Bars,"
Tones of a band sweetly playing
The "Star Spangled Banner" — that's ours;
Union men listening in quiet,
Of our flag that leads the fight,
Have kindlier feeling for "Johnnies,"
And wish them kind good night.
Sweet music will bring men together,
Of whatever name or tongue ;
The loved songs of home and country,
A touchstone that rights the wrong.
The Confederates listen to "Dixie"
As played by a Union band,
And answer ''Marching through Georgia,"
We with their "My Maryland."
Then when both are weary of playing,
The hour to turn in has come,
They join what is one the world over,
Both playing dear "Home, Sweet Home."
There's many a voice that's husky,
And many an eye that's dim,
As they close the evening's music
With that tender, touching hymn.
CHARLES A. FORD,

Homer, N. Y.

Company L.

284 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
NINE AND THE NINTH.
At one of the regimental gatherings, J. S. Roys of Company
D called attention to the interesting manner in which the nu
meral 9 was woven into the history of our organization, calling
attention to Cold Harbor, Winchester and Cedar Creek, which
were fought on days including the number. This thought might
be considerably extended, for as stated in the narrative the
order converting the regiment from infantry to artillery was
dated Dec. 9th. The designated numeral for the same came
.Dec. 19th. May 9, 1864, the 2d Battalion is preparing
to leave Fort Foote. June 9th of the same year finds us
in the midst of Cold Harbor's struggle. July 9th takes us to
Monocacy and its direful story. September 19th and October
19th are matters of history with their tales of Winchester and
Cedar Creek, while not only our own story, but that of the
nation seems to culminate April 9th of 1865 at Appomattox.
Incidentally it might be said that the corps to which the reg
iment belonged was only a nine inverted.
G. A. R. POSTS.
The Grand Army of the Republic exists to keep alive the
memories of the strife of 1861-'65 as well as to exemplify fra
ternity, charity and loyalty.
In looking over the names of nearly 700 posts of this organ
ization in New York, it is pleasant to note the following named
for men who served with us; there may be others, but we are
sure of these:
Seward Post, No. 37, of Auburn may include the thought of
the great secretary as well, but the Ninth certainly followed
one of that name.
Keeslar Post, No. 55, of Wolcott recalls the two brothers,
Daniel and Simeon of Company E, though both were Huron
boys, and both shot to their deaths April 2, 1865, at Petersburg.
How aptly Mrs. Browning wrote in her " Mother and Poet" :
"Dead! one of them shot by the sea in the east,
And one of them shot in the west, by the sea.
Dead! both my boys!"
George C. Stoyell Post, No. 155, Moravia, calls up the fair
face and trim form of the young lieutenant of Company E,
whose body, bereft of life, was sent home to its burial long be-

MISCELLANEOUS. 285
fore his comrades had entered upon the Battle Summer. A
victim of fever, he was none the less a sacrifice to country.
Myron M. Fish Post, No. 406, Ontario, reminds us of Winches
ter, that fairest stand-up fight of the war, when, though death-
stricken, father and brother could not halt in duty's path longer
than to print a kiss on his dying lips and then were swept on,
they to glorious victory, he to immortality.
Selah Gornwell Post, No. 632, Merrifield, suggests the pleas
ant-faced gentleman who, fever-stricken, was the first officer to
be mustered out by that remorseless agent, Death. There was
mourning in Company E when their captain died.
Anthony Stacey Post, No. 647, Elbridge. At the word we
see a face of firm yet gentle features, a form sturdy and strong,
one of three brothers, serving at the same time in Company L.
Surviving the war, he later passed over to the eternal camping-
ground, "beyond the silent sea,
Where those who marched with Sherman
Are camped with those of Lee."
REGIMENTAL POSTMASTER.
"Mail-to-go-out!" — If the oft-repeated expression sometimes
deteriorated into "Mail-t'-gwout," the boys didn't care. They
weren't particular about pronunciation; and they did feel very
kindly towards the soldier postman when he brought them
letters from home, but they couldn't help blaming him when,
for any reason, he persisted in skipping their names. "Write
me a letter, love, when you are away," needed just a little
change in wording, but he was a queer mortal, in war-times,
who did not have somebody, somewhere, from whom a missive
might be expected. "Do they miss me at home? do they miss
me?" was a refrain often on our lips, and the man who brought
us news of "Home, Sweet Home," was our own detailed com
rade, who gradually grew to be the best known man in the regi
ment. John Tidd, Company E, performed this very pleasant duty
while in the defenses, at least for some of the forts and camps,
but probably the office was longest identified with Henry P.
Howard of Company H, who knew his business from A to Z.
His appointment dates from the following order:

286 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Headquarters 9th New York Artillery,
Fort Simmons, D. C, Aug. 13, 1863.
Special Orders No. 166.
Sergeant Henry P. Howard, Company H, this regiment, at
his own request is hereby reduced to the ranks, and appointed
regimental postmaster of this regiment. By order J. WELLING,
Colonel commanding.
W. DeW. Pringle, adjutant.
With his postbag, Howard is well remembered by hundreds
who received many a letter at his hands. So well did he per
form his duties that he was promoted, as appears in the follow
ing: Headquarters 2d Brigade, 3d Division, 6th Army Corps.
November 16th, 1864.
Special Order No. 51. Extract [11].
Private Henry P. Howard, 9th New York Heavy Artillery,
is hereby detailed and announced as brigade postmaster of this
brigade. He will report for duty without delay.
By command of
COLONEL J. WARREN KEIFER.
By J. T. Rorer, captain and A. A. A. G.
Official. William I. Parrish, lieutenant and acting adjutant.
After the advancement of Comrade Howard, his place was
taken in the regiment by H. H. Wheeler of Company A, later
a lieutenant in Company E, who remained till promoted.
Whoever filled the place, he had duties to perform, sometimes
exceedingly heavy, but pride in his work usually kept him up
to the faithful discharge of his obligations.
FLAGS OF THE NINTH.
September 8th, three days before the departure of the 138th
from Camp Halleck, the ladies of Auburn presented the regi
ment with a stand of colors. When the change in regimental
hues came in 1862, the blue banner bearing the escutcheon of
the state was given by the officers to General Seward, in whose
library it is now suspended, while a red one was substituted
for it.
These banners saw the campaigns of the Ninth and, tattered
and torn, came home with us, no enemy carrying off any en-

BATTLE-FLAG AND STANDARDS OF THE 9th NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

MISCELLANEOUS. 287
sign of ours, but our return was not early enough to allow of
our participation in the glorious exercises in Albany July 4,
1865, when in the presence of Grant, Wool, Wallace, Kilpatrick,
Schofield, Butterfield, Sickles, Ricketts and a host of others.
with addresses by Butterfield, Governor Fenton and the Rev.
E. H. Chapin, the colors, then returned, were consigned to the
perpetual keeping of the state.
We had not left Washington then, and not till the 20th
were we paid off and our banners became seekers for custo
dians. Brave hands, many of them mouldering back to clay,
had borne them, but now their journey over, they must rest
with similar trophies beneath the roof, of the Capitol. August
3, 1865, the flags, five in number, were carried to Albany and
there deposited. In the catalogue of the Bureau of Military
Record they are mentioned as one national, one regimental and
three guidons.
Carefully kept within glass cases, they and those of other
regiments merit and receive the admiring, almost reverential,
gaze of the thousands who visit the magnificent Capitol of the
Empire State. All are labeled and are inscribed with the names
of the engagements in which their bearers participated. Upon
our flag may be read, Cold Harbor, Petersburg, Monocacy, Ope
quon, Cedar Creek, Petersburg, April 2d, and Sailor's Creek.
The traveler in Britain finds in church and castle some re
minder of. the prowess of the fathers. In Canterbury Cathedral,
for more than 600 years the coat of the Black Prince, worn by
him at Poictiers, has inspired the hearts of Britons to be like
him — brave, determined, true.
Battle-flags impress their lessons on the minds of youthful
beholders, and serve to keep alive the spirit of national pride
and love of country. It matters not who may be governor, nor
what party controls the Legislature, these colors and their
memories are far above and beyond politics ; they represent not
the passing phase of political life; they stand for country itself.
To-day with bated breath and with quickened heart-beats,
the rambler beyond seas may see in Altorf, covered with glass,
banners borne by liberty-loving Swiss, at Mortgarten before
Columbus set forth on his westward journey. Let us hope that
centuries hence, travelers from the East and from the West
may stand beside these flags, still preserved, and hear some cus
todian say, "They were followed by men who forsook the paths

288 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
of peace and by the dread ordeal of battle drove slavery from
the land and made America from ocean to ocean
'The land of the free and the home of the brave.' "
MILES MARCHED BY THE NINTH.
One of the most difficult tasks essayed by any compiler is to
ascertain just how many miles this or that body walked during
its term of service. Had the men marched as the crow flies,
with the scale range, the answer could be easily given, but
armies did not move in that way. They usually took the long
est way, if there was any difference. Again, if they had fol
lowed the railroad tracks, the answer could be more easily
given, but if such a course were attempted it had to be very
much modified, as in our march to Danville. Thousands of men
could not keep along that single line, though it marked their
direction. i i
The very best that any one can do is to study the roads and
routes as carefully as possible, and then to make estimates,
having the table of railroad distances with the map scale by
him. It were a long list to follow each day's march from our
departure from Belle Plain, during those days in May; so it
will suffice if certain parts thereof are kept together ; thus from
Belle Plain we walked 62 miles to reach the North Anna. Very
likely all these items are under rather than over the fact, owing
to the routes we pursued. From the North Anna till we were
placed before Petersburg, 126 miles; to Ream's Station and re
turn with sundry other journeyings about Petersburg, 28 miles.
From Petersburg to City Point and from Frederick City to
Monocacy Junction, 21 miles. From Monocacy to Ellicott City,
45 miles.
Washington to Snicker's gap and return, 125 miles; to Fort
Richardson and return and to Harper's Ferry, thence to Freder
ick City, 110 miles.
In the valley, making no allowance for digressions, guarding
wagon-train, foraging, etc., we marched from Harper's Ferry
to Fisher's hill and back, 120 miles; then we walked up to
Mount Crawford, and finally came back to Harper's Ferry, 216
miles. I
In our final Petersburg rambles we marched and counter
marched fully 25 miles; then when we set out after Lee, we

MISCELLANEOUS. 289
rushed over 100 miles of distance before catching him; next
we came back to Burksville, 50 miles; the raid to Danville
followed, 125 miles, and finally we took foot and walker's line
from Richmond to Washington, fully 85 miles as we walked.
In this compilation no estimate has been made of the long
marches before leaving the defenses, nor of those that followed
our return, nor again of the distances accomplished by boat or
rail, but the figures already given make an aggregate of 1238
miles. Does not the regiment merit a place with Sheridan's
"Foot Cavalry"? OUR CORPS CONNECTIONS.
Without access to the regimental books, by the order of
Daniel Lamont, Cleveland's secretary of war, effectually
barred to all inspection, it is practically impossible to name the
brigades and divisions with which the regiment was at first
connected; but on the formation of the 22d Corps in February,
1863, the task became easier. The first commander was Major
General S. P. Heintzelman, who was succeeded in October,
1863, by Major General C. C. Auger, who remained at the head
of the defenses through the rest of the war.
In the newly formed 22d Corps, which included all the troops
in the defenses of Washington, the Ninth was at first assigned
to the 2d and later to the 3d Brigade, Haskin's division. Joseph
A. Haskin was a grizzled veteran who had seen service in the
Mexican War, losing an arm at Chepultepec. He is well remem
bered by the soldiers. He was New York born, of the class of
1839, West Point, and died in Oswego August 3d, 1874.
Our position as to Army Corps, on going to the front, has
been already stated, but it is here repeated that when in the
fighting ranks the 1st and 2d Battalions were in the 2d Brigade,
3d Division, 6th Corps, the 3d Battalion in the Artillery Bri
gade, but same division. This same battalion served in the 1st
Brigade, Hardin's division, 22d Corps, from July 10th, 1864,
into September, and from September 22d till it left the defenses
in Colonel Keim's provisional brigade. Thence onward the
regiment was together.
While in the Shenandoah valley we were of the Army of the
Shenandoah, but on returning to Petersburg we were again in
the Army of the Potomac. In this connection it should be
stated that Brigadier General Martin D. Hardin was another
19

290 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
one-armed officer, having lost his left arm in a guerrilla skirmish
near Catlett's Station in December, 1863. He also was a West
Pointer, class of 1859. THE REGIMENTAL BAND.
"Here we will sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears."
The stay of the regiment in the defenses and its enlargement
to the heavy artillery standard gave an opportunity for the
making of a brass band, an adjunct which added much to the
enjoyment of camp-life. While fife, drum and bugle are ever
associated with the camp and march, there was a place for the
broader and, possibly, more melodious brazen instruments. Of
course the regiment was rich in material, and it is an interest
ing comment on the health-giving tendencies of lung exercise
that so many of the members of our band are yet alive. Of
course they were not enlisted as musicians, with the exception
of possibly a drummer, but were detailed on the recommenda
tion of those who were conversant with their musical capabili
ties. Access to the order-book, so carefully kept in Washing
ton, but which is sealed to the only persons whom, it could in
the least interest, would tell us just when the enterprise was
started. It is probable that the period of incubation must have
been at least a month, for it was April 6th, 1863, that the first
public appearance was made, and then the chick may be said
to have had its first peep. It was not fully fledged until it had
received a deal of instruction and had filled the neighboring
groves full of melody in practicing.
Though "Belle Brandon" was an early favorite, the repertoire
of the band gradually grew to include all the popular music
of the day. The story is told that one of the field-officers on
dress-parade in the infantile period of the band's existence sent
word wanting to know if they could not give him some other
tune than "Belle Brandon," which, though beautiful, had grown
a trifle stale. Some survivors never hear the tune to this day
without recalling the incident.
The nucleus of the organization was the old Rose Brass Band,
seven members of which were in Company H. While Lieuten
ant Harmon may not have been an active wind-blower, he was

REGIMENTAL BAND,

W. F. Hickok. A. B. Harmon. E. H. Pond.
F. Smocker. Jacob Sager. Alvah Lowe.
D. Marshall. E. B. Wing. J. J. Seelye. P. T. Shorkley.

MISCELLANEOUS. 291
of course friendly to the project, and his brothers were members.
Jacob Sager of Clyde, the leader, had played with the Rose
members if he had not belonged to their body.
As we remember them and their music, the impression re
mains that they could play as well as any similar organization
in the defenses. They helped out all state occasions amazingly,
and the power of music to charm, etc., was generally acknowl
edged. Shakespeare could have found in the ranks of the Ninth
very few if any men with no music in their souls, hence none
who were fit for treasons.
As a reward for the melody that they gave us, they were
excused from carrying guns, but they were expected to assist
in caring for the wounded and to help in all hospital duties.
That they generally did their duty in this direction, no one
questions. There were usually twenty-two men present for
duty in the band. As there were changes from time to time,
the total number belonging, in all, was considerably above those
figures. While the band was supposed to be at headquarters, there
were never any doings of note at Fort Foote when the band was
not invited down, and it always had a good time while it dis
pensed sweet music for the occasion. The boys could not, how
ever, live on sweet sounds alone, hence the pleasures of the table
that followed their public appearances are yet treasured with
delight. When the regiment was having one of its regular visits to
Harper's Ferry or its immediate vicinity, a death occurred in
the hospital of a member of the Ninth, and Surgeon Sabin de
termined to vary the monotony of camp-life by a military burial.
All proceeded properly till the procession was ready for the
march; then when he was expected to give the signal for a
selection appropriate to the occasion, Leader Sager found his
wits wandering, and he could not, for his life, think of a single
marching piece that would be sufficiently sad. Nothing better
than the long metre Doxology occurred to him, so he gave word,
and his boys pumped away on the familiar notes. In vain did
the surgeon essay to get his horse into step, but it would not
work; then turning to the perspiring leader he said, "What
kind of a tune do you call that? I thought I could march to
almost anything, but I'll be blamed if I can get this horse into
step with Old Hundred." Just then Jake's wits came back to

292 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
him, and with a premonitory wave he switched the boys off
into the "Dead March in Saul," and to the strains of
"Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb,"
the body was borne to its burial.
The collection of the pictures which make up the two groups
is owing to the thoughtf ulness and care of J. J. Seelye of Rose,
a member of Company H. It required many letters to get these
reminders together after so many days. As the men themselves
so often marched before the regiment, their faces will in almost
all cases be readily recognized. It is to be regretted that there
are any vacancies in the list, but some veterans, though presum
ably living, have disappeared beyond the reach of ordinary
means of discovery.
Mr. Seelye, in his communication, kindly named the instru
ment that each man played, but at this late day it will matter
very little whether it was a flat or a sharp, whether he beat
or blew. Through our memories, the past comes back in one
harmonious whole, in which faces and sounds are blended be
yond possibility of separation.
They by their music inspired those that followed, for Aesop
tells us that the trumpeter was killed when made a prisoner,
though he was unarmed, because he inspired others to fight,
and they made many a day seem shorter when there was a dis
position to homesickness. Their names are as follows : —
Benjamin L. Avery, Co. M, now of Genoa, N. Y., had a facile
hand in wartimes, and at least one of our pictures is owing
to his skill.
Romain C. Barless, Co. H, Rose, N. Y., was one of the "Band
Boys" of ante-wartimes, and in those days was known as
"Doc." Since the war he has been something of a lawyer,
and at present is a justice of the peace, at the same time
doing considerable as a pension agent. Perhaps no one in
the county has been more successful than "Doc" in this
respect.
George W. Bates, Co. M, resides now in Lodge Pole, Neb., one
of New York's contributions to the West when the war was
over.
Charles F. Crowfoot, Co. E, Venice Centre, N. Y.
Charles Foster.
Hency Foster.

MISCELLANEOUS. 293
William Foster.
Three brothers, Co. M. Their addresses not known.
Barton Gage, Co. A.
Alfred B. Harmon, Co. H, Palmyra, N. Y. Involuntarily the
picture of Mrs. Harmon appears in our illustration, but to
get the face of the player, that of Mrs. H. was taken also.
Mr. Harmon was one of the original players of Rose, as was
his brother, whose name follows.
William J. Harmon, Co. H, deceased. Was from Rose, but for
several years before his death lived in Rochester.
William Felton Hickok, Co. H, Rose; another of the original
players; everyone calls him "Felt"; since the war has fol
lowed the pursuit of farming and house carpentering.
Pitts, O. Hudson, Co. F, Bay City, Mich. Not only played in the
band, but has been a musician ever since. He leads an or
chestra, teaches violin music, writes poetry and music,
gives concerts, living by as well as for music.
George Klumpp, Co. D, died in Weedsport Feb. 23, 1899.
Alvah Low was a Co. I man from Sennett and played the clari
net.
David Marshall, Co. A, enlisted from Genoa.
Edward F. Moulton, Co. M, Batavia, N. Y.
Edson H. Pond, Co. M, Greenville, Mich.
Jacob Sager, Co. H. No one can remember when he was not a
player in a band; has been since the war a cebinet-maker
in Clyde, N. Y.
J. Judson Seelye, Co. H, Rose, N. Y. His best friends know him
as "Jud."; born and reared in Rose he was struck with a
wild-western fever some years after the strife, and he spent
several years trying to hold down a claim or two in South
Dakota, but latterly he has concluded that New York is
good enough for him.
Pardon T. Shorkley, Co. E, Merrifield, N. Y.
Mortimer Smith, Co. A, was discharged to take commission in
a colored regiment. When he left, his comrades in the com
pany gave him a sword.
Frederick Smocker, Co. A, enlisted from Wolcott.
Ira Soule, Co. H, Rose, N. Y. Another of the old band boys;
descended from George Soule, one of the Mayflower pas
sengers; he is one of the few survivors of the regiment who
can say, "I had a son with me in the service." He has long
followed the trade of a shoemaker.

294 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Ira T. Soule, Co. H, Rose, N. Y. Ira is the son of the above,
and he is a worthy one. His business is that of a house-
painter. It should be said that he beat the snare drum in
the ante-bellum days of the Rose band.
Fred A. Tallman, Co. E, Syracuse, N. Y., was a drummer in his
company, and no one can give the drum a better beating
than he when the old boys come together for a reunion.
John Van Liew, Co. E, Mapleton, N. Y.
Eugene B. Wing, Co. M, Attica, N. Y.
Stephen P. Wing, Co. M, Flint, Mich. Cousins.
TWO HAEVESTS.
BT N. A. M. BOB.
In the early morning, at Monocacy, laborers worked rapidly to gather from the field,
just to the west of the Washington pike, the crop of wheat, which in shock was ready
for garnering. Late in the afternoon lifeless bodies plentifully bestrewed the same
field; the later reaper was Death. ( Vide page 126.)
The reapers are binding the yellow grain,
The mocking-bird drops with an eddying strain,
That pierces my heart with ecstatic pain,
While I watch for his jubilant rising again,
Over the hill.
The sunlight shakes on the ripling flow,
Of blue Monocacy gliding slow;
Its murmuring waters caressing low
The fleeting shadows that come and go,
At zephyrs will.
Such was the harvest the noontide brought,
Sunny the field where the reapers wrought,
Pleasant the sound that the west wind caught,
And the beautiful laughing day was fraught
With joyous thrill.
There's a line thin and blue,
There are hearts staunch and true,
There are shots quick and loud,
Then a pall of battle cloud.
Shot and shell
Make a seething hell
Of that field.
Do comrades lag?
That tattered flag
With Company A
Goes proudly on,
While here and yon,
Fate has sealed
Some hearts so bold
In silence cold
Along the way.

REGIMENTAL BAND.

R. C. Barless. P. 0. Hudson. John Van Liew.
B. L. Avery. E. F. Moulton. C. F. Crowfoot.
Geo. Klumpp. Geo. W. Bates. Ira Soule. Ira T. Soule.

MISCELLANEOUS. 295
There the blue and gray are meeting,
God in Heaven! the blue retreating!
Fighting, fleeing, never seeing
Aught of sunny skies o'ermeeting.
Like a twisted, broken ribbon
Was that brave and gallant line,
While the frightened sobbing river's
Tide is red like crimson wine.
Where the mockbird's joyous music,
Now the wailing cry of pain,
And the shocked and shivering ether —
Will it ne'er be still again?
And what was the harvest the twilight gray
In pitiful shadows at close of the day,
Enfolded and covered in silence away?
Oh, sun of the morrow, I pray thee delay
Nor haste thee
To look on the harvest the angel of woe
Hath reaped on this desolate field below,
'Twas a harvest of heroes, true soldiers I trow,
Who fell where the waves of Monocacy flow
To the sea.
THE FORTS ABOUT WASHINGTON.
The consideration of the defenses of Washington demands a
volume by itself, consequently any word here is entirely inade
quate to the proper discussion of the subject. The best that
can be done is to name some of the forts with which the regi
ment was specially connected, with the barest outline of the
scheme of defending the city.
It was early recognized by the government that the capture
of the Capital would be a serious blow to the Union cause,
hence the extent of earthen walls that gradually grew around
its borders. So near was it to the first scenes of hostility that
the sound of conflict fell upon the ears of Washington dwellers,
and the Stars and Bars were visible above the roof of the Mar
shall House in Alexandria. >
The very first advance into Virginia in May, 1861, was accom
panied by the making of fortifications. The end of the Long
Bridge was made safe and the approaches to the Aqueduct
Bridge were defended by Fort Corcoran, which was one of the
first if not the very first to be completed. It was here that
Henry Watterson of the Louisville Journal witnessed the rais
ing of the flag, and of the event wrote a glowing description

296

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

FORTS ABOUT WASHINGTON.

to a Philadelphia paper, an article for which he subsequently
said he had to apologize throughout the entire war, for he went
home soon after and threw himself into the Confederate cause.
It is of interest to all 6th Corps men that General H. G.
Wright had to do with the laying out of some of the earliest
of the forts, especially on the Virginia side of the Potomac.
A letter addressed to the general in 1898, drew from him the
following reply:

MISCELLANEOUS. 297
My connection with the actual construction of the defenses
of Washington was confined, mainly, to the laying out and
building of Fort Ellsworth, in which I was assisted during a
portion of the time by Lieutenant George W. Snyder, Corps of
Engineers, a very bright and intelligent officer, who died in
November, 1861, and had he lived I am sure he would have
attained high rank in the Civil War. I also assisted Captain
B. S. Alexander in the selection of the site and the laying out
of Fort Runyan, but had no connection in the actual construc
tion, which was carried out under Alexander's supervision.
My next and last connection with the "defenses" was at Fort
Stevens when the Capital was raided by Early, being in com
mand of the forces engaged in the action in advance of that
portion of the line on the 12th of August, 1864.
It is difficult to find many forts of which it can be said they
were built by this or that regiment, for seemingly almost every
organization that passed through the District lifted a shovel
a longer or shorted period upon these works. Some officers
decried the whole system, saying it would never be of the slight
est use, but the work progressed till the Capital was surrounded
by a series of forts and batteries, large and small, sixty-eight
in number. They had an aggregate perimeter of thirteen miles ;
there were twenty miles of rifle-trenches and three block
houses; ninety-three unarmed batteries for field guns having
401 emplacements; the forts themselves had 1120 emplacements
with 807 guns and 93 mortars actually in position. There were
thirty-two miles of military road besides the existing roads and
avenues of the District by which communication could be had
from point to point; the entire circuit of the forts was thirty-
seven miles.
The first works, those of 1861, were almost entirely rebuilt
in a more substantial manner. They became a place of security
to the demoralized Potomac Army in 1862, and their utility in
1864 has already been shown.
The work of the Ninth in building was entirely on the Mary
land side of the river and, with the exception of Fort Foote, in
a section to the northwest of the city, though at first and later
some shoveling was done near the Bladensburg road. Some of
the projected forts were already named before we began our
labors, and some were changed ere we finished, if, indeed, we
really got through before our muster-out, since some of the
hold-overs in 1865 remember very warm days devoted to re-
sodding and otherwise beautifying the earthworks.

298 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
As a general thing, the forts, early in the building days, took
some appellation suggestive of the makers. Thus the Rhode
Island boys who started the works, later called Fort Slocum,
at first referred to them as Fort Rhode Island, but when Bull
Run took from them their brave colonel, John S. Slocum of the
2d Rhode Island, the fort took his name. Thus Fort Massa
chusetts became Fort Stevens and Fort Pennsylvania was
changed to Fort Reno. Thereafter forts received the names of
distinguished Union officers who had lost their lives.
When the 138th sat down before Fort Kearney (see page 36).
they found a fort begun and named. Of the utility of this fort,
General Barnard says, "It is a connecting link between Forts
Pennsylvania (Reno) and DeRussey. It sees well the upper
valley of the Broad Branch and crosses its fires with those of
the above-named forts and intermediate batteries upon the dan
gerous heights in front."
Fort Gaines was another work to whose existence the regi
ment contributed. It was in the second line, and Barnard says :
"The enemy could not establish himself on the ridge occupied
by Mansfield, since the rifled guns of Gaines could explode the
magazines of Mansfield."
Fort Mansfield, named for the gallant general (see page 47)
killed at Antietam, was almost exclusively the work of our
hands. "The works are well located as connecting links be
tween Forts Sumner and Reno; are well built and deemed
adequate for their purposes."
Fort Simmons, very near Mansfield, was peculiarly a work of
our making, and preserved in its appellation the memory of
Colonel Seneca G. Simmons of the 34th Pennsylvania Infantry,
killed at the Battle of Glendale June 30th, 1862. It was one
of the later works, and with Mansfield constituted a part of the
line connecting Sumner and Reno. Though above the valley,
they were a hundred feet lower than Fort Gaines.
Fort Bayard came, also, within the claims of the Ninth, and
was the outgrowth of an almost circular fortification, known
for some time as Battery Ellipse, but eventually was honored
with the name of Brigadier General George D. Bayard, a native
of Seneca Falls, N. Y.; West Point, 1856; killed at Fredericks
burg, December 13, 1862. This fort was rendered necessary by
the northern location of Sumner and the need of connection
with Reno.

FORT STEVENS IN 1899.

Looking North, Through Embrasure. Looking West, Parapet at Right.
Interior. Looking West. Looking North, Parapet at Right.

MISCELLANEOUS. 299
Our regiment was not ignorant of the making of Fort Reno,
which at first was called Fort Pennsylvania, on account of the
troops who early worked upon it. After the death of General
Jesse L. Reno at South Mountain, his name was fittingly pre
served here. Situated just north of Tennallytown, it occupied
one of the most commanding sites about Washington, and its
100-pound Parrott ranged to hillsi beyond the scope of Sumner
and DeRussey.
Fort Stevens grew from Fort Massachusetts, which was it
self an outgrowth from the camps of the 10th and 7th Massa
chusetts, the 2d Rhode Island and the 36th New York, which
were at Brightwood in 1861. These regiments labored diligent
ly here, and the name of the Bay State was at first applied to
the results of their work. After it had grown to be one of the
most important of all the works about the Capital, it received
the name of General Isaac I. Stevens, colonel of the 79th New
York Highlanders, and afterwards major general of volunteers,
who was killed at Chantilly September 1st, 1862, having in
his hands the colors of his own Highlanders.
No fort in the entire range has so great a reputation as this,
for in front of it the main part of the fighting was done, July
12, 1864, though firing extended from Slocum to Simmons.
Upon its ramparts stood the president during a part of that
eventful day, and for a while the city back of it held its breath,
wondering what the outcome would be. Here was proven the
utility of the miles of earthworks which enclosed the Capital.
Naturally, the question arises, "What is there left to show
of the fort to-day?" Very little. The unknowing traveler
might pass through the fort and think only that the surface
was a trifle irregular, but should he seek closely he will find
traces, as appears in the accompanying plate. Brightwood
has become a suburb of Washington, and alleged improvements
will eventually wipe out all traces, as they have already of a
part of the eastern portion.
The fort of all others where there is no dispute as to what
should be ascribed to our regiment is Fort Foote (see page 60).
It is one of the few deemed worthy of preservation on account
of its location. General Barnard says: "This fort was con
structed for the purpose of defending, along with Battery
Rodgers, the water-approach of the city. ... It was de
signed as a water battery of eight 22-pound Parrott rifles and

300 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
two 15-inch guns. The river front was made 515^ feet in length,
with a return (at an angle of 120 degrees) of 75 feet 
The rear of the fort, parallel to the long water-front, was bas
tioned and armed with field and siege guns for land defense.
The parapets on those faces exposed to naval attack were made
from twenty to twenty-five feet in thickness, and of a sufficient
height to give a cover of at least eight feet. The crest level was
from 103 to 106 feet above high water. . . . All the earth
work was sodded even to the scarps and counterscarps."
The fort was completed in the fall of 1863, and is yet main
tained (1871) as an armed and garrisoned post. It is in excel
lent condition, and with proper care will remain so for years to
come. The general describes with some minuteness the slopes,
bomb-proofs, wooden buildings and the entire make-up of the
fort. The cedar and chestnut used in the works were at the
time of his writing, 1871, in an excellent state of preservation.
Though not assisting in the building of all these forts, the
order-books of the regiment would show that during our stay
in the defenses, the 9th Regiment, or some part of it, did for a
longer or shorter period occupy or assist in the construction
of nearly every fort and battery in the entire cordon. Seeming
ly our experience in this direction exceeded that of the majority
of our associate regiments. A MONOCACY EPISODE.
On page 126 reference is made to the evident distress of two
young women, the morning of the Battle of Monocacy. Before
the troops had moved into position, they were seen repeatedly
near the headquarters of General Wallace. Since the war, the
cause of their anxiety has appeared, and the following letter
from one of the parties interested, though not seen by us then,
is given to the public for the first time. The writer, a son of
Colonel C. K. Thomas, on whose farm the most of the fighting
of the 9th was done, is now a resident of Berryville, Va., in the
very section so familiar to the members of the Ninth, where he
holds several hundred acres of that most fertile land, and for
several years he has represented the counties of Clarke and
Warren in the Virginia Legislature. At the same time he holds,
from Governor J. Hoge Tyler, the position of colonel of cavalry
on the latter's staff. Colonel S. S. Thomas tells his own storv
in the following interesting manner :

MONOCACY "HEROES."
J. H. ANDERSON, S. S. THOMAS, H. M. GATCHELL.

-'-''¦

. - . :,'>.«*--, ;~&s,-*?£g -"-^..r"- ¦¦*•>'

MONOCACY STONE BRIDGE, BALTIMORE PIKE

MISCELLANEOUS. 301
On the 4th day of July, 1864, Julius H. Anderson, Hugh M.
Gatchell and myself left Baltimore city to make a visit to my
father's home, "Araby" — the scene of the Battle of Monocacy.
Anticipating a most gorgeous time for that day, which was
virtually the day of this young nation's birth, we spent all the
energies of our youthful natures in bringing about that result.
Added to our own efforts, the stronger stimulus was the fact
that two of the trio had sweethearts at "Araby" to assist
them in their pleasures. My sister, Alice, was engaged and
afterwards married Mr. Anderson, and Miss Mary A. Tyler (her
guest) was engaged and afterwards married Mr. Gatchell. I
took my pleasure amidst the home circle, except when these
young couples were not engrossed with one another.
Thus this happy party continued to embrace and enjoy all
the accompanying pleasures incident to youth, for the eldest
of the party was only twenty years old. But presto! etc. Whilst
sitting on the piazza at "Araby," on the morning of the 5th,
behold, a squad of United States soldiers is seen marching up
the lawn, and after halting in front of us, one of them stepped
forward and announced the fact that he had an order for the
arrest of three young men staying there, at the same time call
ing our names.
My father at once demanded to know at whose instance the
arrest was made. "By the order of General Lew Wallace."
"And what ground does General Wallace assign for this
arrest?" continued my father. The reply came that General
Wallace knew his own business. Which to my mind has proved
a fallacy, as his subsequent military career showed.
Here follows the most remarkable and unprecedented step
ever taken by any commander in civil warfare. We were
marched under guard to the place of encampment of the 11th
Maryland, 100 days' regiment, commanded by Colonel William
T. Landstreet, given muskets, placed in the ranks, drilled with
the regiment, and marched with it on the morning of the 8th
(I think) to the west side of Frederick and drawn up in line of
battle; but one officer in command, finding that we made a
fine target for a Confederate battery to practice upon, at once
ordered our retreat to the bridge spanning the Monocacy on the
Baltimore pike, thence by daybreak, next morning back along.
the Monocacy to the old camping-ground at Frederick Junction.
The next morning, the 9th, our muskets were taken from us
(now think of this), and we were detained with the regiment
and carried to an eminence adjacent to the railroad-bridge, and
there ordered to remain, the firing having commenced, a Con
federate battery on the other side of the river firing at us. Re
member we were clad in civilian dress, and a kind, chivalrous
and sympathetic officer, whose memory I shall always cherish,
turned to us and remarked, "Young men, General Wallace is
now yonder (pointing afar off) on the left flank. I appreciate

302 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
his unsoldierly conduct towards you, and if the rebels drive
us from this position and you are caught fighting in citizen's
dress, as they will have every right, I suppose they will kill you
on sight. Now, take my advice and get away as fast as you
can." This man was one of God's noblemen and seeing the
injustice of the position in which we were placed, could not re
strain the nobility of his character.
We at once acted on his suggestion and left without any
molestation, and we came to the conclusion that the only mean
fellow in that whole army was General Lew Wallace.
From there we went to the residence of Mr. J. H. Gambrill.
After sitting there for some time, occupying seats on the east
porch with General Ricketts, an officer, General Adam E. King,
rode up to make a report to him (Ricketts). After delivering the
same and receiving instructions, he started back, but in almost
less time than it takes to relate it, I saw him brought back on
a stretcher, supposed to be mortally wounded. (I believe he is
now living in Baltimore.)
By that time the shells were flying rapidly, plowing up the
earth all around us, so that we, including Mr. Gambrill, deter
mined to take shelter in the mill, and there remained till the
battle was over, which was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon.
For the above reasons, I claim that we were the only heroes
of the Battle of Monocacy, having been exposed to the same
dangers as soldiers against our own will, Without having the
protection given to a uniform. This was the last of it, General
Wallace never attempting to assign any reason whatever for
his unwarrantable course, and the above relation of facts does
not appear, I know, in any history of the war.
The distress of the young women on the morning of the 9th
is now perfectly clear, — they were trying to secure the release
of the brother and lovers, but without avail. It is easy to im
agine what must have been the feelings of the parents and
those girls as they spent the long hours of this day in the
cellar of the Thomas house. Several years later, Colonel C. K.
Thomas told the writer that on their return to Baltimore the
young men had their pictures taken in the dress worn on the day
of the battle, and that one of the involuntary soldiers wrote
beneath the figures these words, "The only soldiers at Monocacy
who were not killed or captured or did not run away." It does
seem as though the young man had some warrant for his in
scription. A few words here concerning the elder Thomas are in place.
He was born in Frederick county, Md., in 1817, and died in
June, 1899, at "Araby," his residence near the Monocacy river,

MISCELLANEOUS. 303
and is buried in Mt. Olivet cemetery. He was closely related
to the first Governor Thomas, and was a distant relative of the
second, and through his mother was descended from Thomas
Notely, who was proprietary governor in 1678. Colonel Thomas
was a man whom to meet was to inspire respect. Though his
opinions might differ from some of yours, you could not help
liking him. If any Union officers and men of the hundreds who
met him during the troublous days of 1862 and '65 entertain
any other than the kindest memories of him, they have not ex
pressed them in the hearing of the writer. Were those to be
named who endorse these sentiments, the list would be too long,
but one warm friend was Major Vandenburgh of the 14th New
Jersey of our 1st Brigade, who died so bravely at Winchester.
THE SIXTH CORPS.
Colonel William F. Fox in his book of regimental losses says :
The history of the 6th Corps, more than any other, is replete
with fascinating interest. Its record is invested with more of
the romance and brilliancy of war. There was the successful
assault of Marye's Heights; the brilliant dash into the rifle-pits
at Rappahannock Station; the deadly hand-to-hand fighting in
the gloomy thickets of Spottsylvania; the breathless interest
which attaches to that lone fight at Fort Stevens, where, under
the eye of the president, they saved the national Capital from
the hands of the invader; the victories in the valley, with the
dramatic incident at Cedar Creek; and the crowning success at
the storming of Petersburg. Over all these scenes the Greek
cross waved proudly on the banners of the corps, while its
veteran legions wrought deeds which linked that badge with an
unfading glory and renown.
The 6th Corps had its origin May 18, 1862, when Franklin's
division was united with that of General W. F. Smith, General
William B. Franklin becoming the first commander. It partic
ipated in all the strife in which the Army of the Potomac
engaged from the Peninsular Campaign, through Gettysburg
to the first assault on Petersburg. Its successive commanders
were General W. F. Smith, John Sedgwick and H. G. Wright.
Its course after our own regiment joined has been pretty well
followed in this volume.
In laying stress upon the services of the 6th Corps, no at
tempt is made to disparage other and similar organizations.
Every one must grant that all did their duty; to the 6th Corps
came certain ordeals, and the corps acquitted itself magnifi
cently. Very likely other bodies would have done the same.

304 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
but under Sedgwick and Wright there had grown up a confi
dence in itself that meant much to the cause for which it strove.
Confidence begat confidence, and leaders and men respected
each other, if, indeed, the word "respect" is strong enough.
For many a day after the dread event of Spottsylvania, there
were few boys of the 6th who did not refer to "Uncle John"
with a quaver in their voices.
The following stanzas in The Sixth Corps, our Danville daily
of April-May, 1865, are indicative of the feeling that every man
had for his fallen hero. The lines were printed in the first
number, that of April 27 :
Sedgwick.
We breathe his name— the cross gleams bright
On every manly breast;
He wore it, and it caught the light
Of Heaven's own bequest.
Then, brothers, let us bow the head,
And feel his presence near;
The brave die not — he is not dead,
No, Sedgwick's soul is here.
God bless him, when amidst the fray,
We sweep the death-struck plain,
We hear his voice — the foe give way,
And Sedgwick leads again.
He left us when through Wilderness,
War shed its lurid flame;
When ranks were growing less and less,
He left us but in name.
His sword was sheathed — but ever near,
His dear old flag he moves;
Beneath the cross he whispers cheer,
The cross that Sedgwick loves.
Then breathe his name— the cross gleams bright
On every manly breast;
He wore it, and it caught the light
Of Heaven's own pure bequest.
There had not been the hesitation of a moment in the acces
sion of Wright, and though there was the taking on of a new
love, there was no forgetting of the old. The new general was
no novice in the art of war; like his predecessor, he was a native
of the state of Connecticut; born in Clinton March 6th, 1820.
He was graduated from West Point, No. 2 in the class of 1841,

MISCELLANEOUS. 305
and became a member of the Engineer Corps. He taught at
the academy, and was a captain when the war broke out. He
served in the Bull Run campaign; helped capture Hilton Head,
S. C; was in Florida in 1862; later was in Ohio and Kentucky,
and having become a major general of volunteers, he com
manded the 1st Division of the 6th Corps at the beginning of the
Campaign of 1864. We need not follow him again through the
struggle of the Battle Summer, but how his accession to the
head of the corps was regarded, the following lines clearly in
dicate :
"Our truest, bravest heart is gone, and we remember well
The bitter anguish of the day when noble Sedgwick fell;
But there is still another left to lead us to the fight,
And with a hearty three times three we'll cheer our gallant Wright."
It had been a cherished hope of the writer of this volume
that he might present a copy to the man whom he and thou
sands of others had so confidently followed, but at the eleventh
hour we know that he passed within the vail. Writing to him
in 1896, the following words were received in reply :
I have no doubt you will prepare an interesting history of the
9th New York Heavy, as it passed most honorably through
eventful times, and I should with pleasure aid you in your la
bors with matter therefor if I could. Unfortunately, however,
I have nothing to which I can refer touching the service of any
regiment, and I only remember that the 9th held high place
in the estimation of the commanders under whom it served,
including myself.
There are those who recall the enthusiastic reception ac
corded the veteran commander on that day in September, 1892,
during the G. A. R. encampment in Washington. The scene is
indelibly impressed upon many minds when the boys rose to
greet the leader of former times. What a flood of years rolled
away as they stood in his presence and in fancy saw him in his
manly strength at the head of the corps, close to the Greek
cross, with his followers, the first favorites of Sheridan.
After the war he lived a quiet life, for the most part in Wash
ington, where he died July 2, 1899. His body was taken to
Connecticut for burial. His full name was Horatio Gouverneur,
not Horatio Gates, as has been so frequently yet incorrectly
stated. Our first division commander, General James B. Ricketts,
20

306 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
was a worthy associate of the gallant Wright, born in New
York city June 21, 1817; West Point, 1839; saw service along
the Canada border and through the Mexican War; helped over
come the Indians in Florida, and early gained repute in the
War of the Rebellion, for Ricketts's Battery won renown at
Bull Run, where he was wounded and captured. He was held
a prisoner for some time, but was released in season for a part
in the Shenandoah Campaign of 1862. His career, till he was
wounded at Cedar Creek, we know. We also recall that his
wife generously gave to every member of the corps a badge,
which they proudly wore on their way back to Petersburg in
December, 1864. He was retired from the army in 1867 on ac
count of wounds received in his service. He died in Washing
ton September 22, 1887.
Our brigade commander, General J. Warren Keifer, is still
an active entity in the affairs of the people. He was born in
Clark county, Ohio, January 30, 1836, and was educated at
Antioch College, the particular glory of Horace Mann, the great
educator. He went into service as major of the 3d Ohio at the
very beginning, April 19th, and was commissioned April 27th.
September 30th, 1862, he became colonel of the 110th Ohio, and
we made his acquaintance later, after his return from his Wil
derness wounds, for he was four times wounded during the war.
Cedar Creek won for him a brevet brigadiership, and he was
mustered out a brevet major general. A lawyer, he went into
politics after the war and was sent to Congress, over the lower
branch of which he presided as speaker during the 47th Con
gress. We well remember his power in speaking on occasion
in wartimes, and it is not surprising that he should enjoy an
enviable reputation in this respect. He was the orator on the
unveiling of the Garfield monument in Washington. His home
is in Springfield, and the general yields to no one in his devo
tion to the interests of the men whom, he so bravely led in
1862-'65. He always has a good word to say for the Ninth.
How the corps was regarded by that peerless leader, Sheri
dan, everybody knows. The confidence, won by experience from
Monocacy to Cedar Creek, was mutual, and no survivor of the
6th fails to dwell on the fact that in 1865 he refused Grant's
proffer of the 5th Corps, still asking for the 6th. It was the
reputation of the corps gained afoot that prompted the send
ing of the 6th on the swift trip to Danville in April, 1865.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 307
General Meade, never particularly enthusiastic, says in his
report of the Petersburg advance that the gallant assault of the
6th Corps on the 3d instant was the decisive movement of the
campaign. At the end of the century, the ranks are thin, and ere many
years all those who so often threaded the roads of Virginia and
Maryland, who explored the paths and fastnesses of the valley
will have joined their leaders in a land where no alarms of
war are heard, but while they live they will not cease to chant :
"Then ere we part to-night, boys, we'll sing our song the more,
With chorus swelling long and clear, God bless the Old 6th Corps."

CHAPTER XXVI.
Prisoners of War.
my capture and escape.
BT W. G. DTJCKETT,
Late Hospital Steward, 2d Battalion, 9th N. Y. Heavy Artillery, now of Washington,
D. C.
I was surprised and taken prisoner by a reb in Uncle Sam's
uniform on July 9th, 1864, between 7 and 8 o'clock A. M., about
half way between Monocacy Junction and Frederick City on
the turnpike. I was taken back to General Echols. He asked
me to what command I belonged. I told him to the 6th Corps.
He said: "D — n that 6th Corps; we meet them wherever we
go." I told him he would find the whole corps there to wel
come him "with bloody hands to hospitable graves." I knew
there were only a part of the 3d Division and two regiments
of 100-day men there, but purposely deceived him, and I be
lieve they were more cautious than they would have been had
they known our real strength, and we were saved from greater
disaster. I remained in Frederick City during the day. Quite
a number of prisoners were brought in during the day, among
them Mead of Company A. In the evening we were marched
over to the stone mill near the battlefield, where we slept in a
cow-pen. I there found Lieutenant Reuben Burton among the
prisoners, and as I had lost my blanket and haversack, gladly

308 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
accepted his offer to share his. The next day the prisoners,
numbering about 600, were started on their march for Wash
ington. We crossed over a part of the battlefield and saw many
of our dead on the field and generally stripped of their cloth
ing. We arrived in front of Fort Stevens late in the afternoon
of the 11th. In the evening after the fight there, the prisoners
were started Dixie-ward, in advance of the retreating rebels. I
am glad to recall one noble act of the rebels, who have so
much cruelty charged to their account. My friend Burton had
been very sick that day and was too weak to walk, and I ob
tained permission from a rebel surgeon to allow him to ride
in an ambulance, while many of their men wounded and worn
had to walk in that July heat and dust. We marched all night,
and until, I think, about 2 o'clock P. M. next day, when we
reached a little hamlet called Dawsonville. We were marched
into a grove containing probably four or five acres, and bounded
on two sides by the public roads, and on the other two by a
large wheat-field. The rebel guards were stationed along the
fence a few rods apart. We were very tired after our long, hot,
dusty march, and Burton and I lost no time in spreading our
blanket for a sound nap. We were awakened by the rebels
calling us to come and get our rations, flour and fresh beef
only. I took a saunter around the grove to awaken myself,
when I discovered that at a point adjoining the wheat-field, the
fence was down and the prisoners were allowed to pass through
into the field. I observed that our guards were tired too, and
not keeping a very strict watch, of which circumstance I de
cided to take immediate advantage. The wheat had been cut,
bound in bundles and set up in shocks containing about fifteen
bundles each. Watching my opportunity I stepped behind a
shock, and dropping on my hands and knees forced my way into
it. It seemed incredible that I had not been seen by one of the
many rebels in sight of me, and I momentarily expected to be
dragged out by the heels, but I soon found I was safe. The heat
was almost suffocating and I suffered for water. The prisoners
were soon commanded to fall in and they continued their march
to prison, from which many never returned. I determined that
as soon as it was dark I would put for the woods and hide
until the enemy had gone, but as night approached the rebel
army came marching by and kept up their tramp, tramp all
night long. They passed within a few feet of me, some of them

PRISONERS OF WAR. 309
brushing against my frail tenement, so I could not carry out
my plans. The stolen horses and cattle, together with baggage
wagons, artillery and cavalry, took the road, and the troops
marched through the fields. When daylight came, I thought
I was safe, for the army had passed, and only now and then a
straggler or two came by.
About 7 o'clock A. M., however, a squad of cavalry came up,
probably the rear guard picking up the stragglers. They halted
in the grove to get their breakfasts. They unlimbered their
forge and shod some horses, and I feared they would make a
long halt. One of the horses came directly to my straw house
and captured the "cap sheath," and proceeded to refresh his
inner horse (not inner man, of course). A moment later a sol
dier took a bundle from behind me, probably to sit on. Then
a soldier sat down against my domicile and rudely pressed
against my knees. It was getting very hot then, my position
was cramped, and while he sat there I could not move; my
whole side became numb, and it seemed impossible to remain
in that position until he had finished his breakfast. Another
bundle was taken, letting broad daylight smack in my face;
then it seemed as if they could all see me. Another bundle was
taken, exposing my knees, and the man was still sitting there
so that I could not move. Each time a bundle was taken I
thought the next would certainly cause my discovery. Five
bundles were taken from my den, and when I finally got out I
noticed that shock was the only one that had been disturbed.
I remained in my hiding-place until some of our cavalry came
along in pursuit of the retreating foe. I mounted one of their
lead horses, and went with them to Poolsville. Remaining
there a day or two, I returned to Washington ; assisted Surgeon
Sabin in reorganizing the hospital at Fort Reno, Tennallytown.
A few days later I received an appointment in the United States
Army, where I remained until April, 1866, when I was dis
charged (because I was no longer wanted).
It was stated to me while a prisoner that the rebs had 30,000
men in the Monocacy fight and thirty to forty pieces of artillery.
Undoubtedly the battle of Monocacy saved Washington. Well,
comrades, I will close with three cheers for "the Heavy Ninth,"
and may the memory of our services and sufferings for the
noble cause be cherished by our children and our children's
children for generations to come.

310 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
NOTES FROM A DIARY KEPT IN DANVILLE PRISON.
Bt E. P. Dunning or Compant D.
July 11. Rebs use us well, but give us no rations. Kept mov
ing till we reached the defenses, where the rebs are fighting
our folks.
July 12. Some firing last night; we are on the pike from Rock
ville to Washington; it passes by Fort Stevens, Seventh street
road, two miles from Fort S., and six from centre of city; about
40,000 rebels.
July 13. With the rebels fell back from Washington late
last night; marched all night; camped at noon to-day.
July 14. Draw scant rations; started out at dark last night;
reached the Potomac this morn and forded, waist deep.
July 15. Get some rest; cannonading in our rear; some hope
of being recaptured.
July 16. Marched at 1 A. M. from two miles east of Leesburg
to one mile west of Upperville.
July 17. Passed through Ashby's Gap, forded the Shenan
doah, camped at Millwood.
July 18. Reached Winchester at noon. Stayed a little while ;
camped three miles south.
July 19. In camp ; rations short, flour and beef.
July 20. Started at daylight, marched eighteen or twenty
miles to the south of Strasburg ; camped on western branch of
the Shenandoah.
July 22. Scant half rations; from Strasburg to Mt. Jackson,
about twenty-five miles, through Edenburg, Woodstock and
other small places.
July 23. From Mt. Jackson to near Harrisonburg, twenty-
two miles, through Newmarket; stopped two hours at a big
spring near Sparta to cook rations.
July 24. From Harrisonburg to within a few miles of Staun
ton, through Sidney and Mt. Crawford; camped at Willow
Spring ; severe storm began at 10 P. M. and continued all night.
July 25. Left at daylight and reached Staunton at 9 A. M.
Took cars at 10 and went through to Charlottesville under the
Blue Ridge; camped at 6, before dark.
July 26. Took cars at daylight and rode to Lynchburg, get
ting there at about noon. All of us, 700, are in an old tobacco
warehouse.

PRISONERS OF WAR.

311

July 27. Closely confined. Our tents and blankets are taken
away from us. Rations somewhat better.
July 28. Left Lynchburg for Danville, via Lynchburg and
Petersburg railroad. From Burksville Junction went south
ward. July 29. Reached Danville at daylight; sixty miles from L.
to Junction.
July 30. Six hundred men in our squad; 250 on our floor.
The most of our regiment on the third floor. The same number
is on the second floor; sixty wounded men on the first floor;
the rest are in the attic. Rations at 9, corn-bread and boiled
cow-peas. One pint of soup in afternoon, 4 o'clock.
July 31. Rations better than expected.
August 1. I make it that we have walked 250 miles and have
ridden 300 to reach this prison.
August 2. The prisoners from the Crater (July 30) came in
to-day. Some sixty or more officers were put into our first
floor, General Bartlett* from Massachusetts, having only one
leg, is among them.
August 3. Nothing to do but read Bible and hunt lice.
August 4. Officers left, they say, for Georgia. Others came
down from Lynchburg. No soup to-day.
August 5. Gave $12 for three dozen onions. Sold some at
fifty cents a piece; had ten left after giving three for a ration
of bread. Got my money back.

?The famous mine explosion, July 30, '64, Petersburg. Gen'l Wm. F.
Bartlett had lost a leg at Yorktown in 1862. Fortunately for him,
it was his wooden leg which was shattered in the mine. The follow
ing is from his journal, printed in his life, p. 120:
Tuesday, August 2. Carried in a dirty wagon without any cover to the
prison; a filthy place, an old warehouse and stores. We were in the first
floor,about 300,as thick as we could lie. No ventilation. I saw the doctor
in the morning; he said he would send me to the hospital. I could not
eat anything; am feverish and so weak. No crutches. I have to be
partly carried, partly hop along, when I move. Rations issued, corn-
bread, thick loaf, and bacon. I can't touch either; still drink water.
If I do not get away from here very soon, I never shall. Wagon came
for me about six, an open wagon or cart, used to carry bacon in, all
covered with dirt and grease; gravel spread on the bottom to cover
the grease; ride over rough road to hospital; am in a tent, old and
ragged, but airy; good breeze. (Small-pox.) (The general was re
tained in Danville till the 26th, when he was sent to Richmond, where
he was held till Sept. 24. Evidently he did not like prison life any bet
ter than the rest of us. — A. S. R.)

312

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

August 6. Scrubbed the floor, making it smell better than
it did before. Three of us are making a pair of pants out of a
shelter-tent. August 7. Some pork, sent down from the North ; black bean
soup for supper.
August 8. Soup gave me«summer complaint; 9, nothing of
note; 10, rations very poor, soup makes us sick; 11, still poor ra
tions ; 12, get Richmond Enquirer.
August 13. Five hundred prisoners came into the prison to
day, mostly from the valley.
August 14. Reading the Bible through; 15, weather very
warm; Company K man, Wheater, died last night.
August 16. River water roilly; the best I ever drank of the
kind. August 17. With Dunbar brought water from the river. Got
extra loaf of bread.
August 18. Rebs took from us to-day about all we had left,
as haversacks, rubber blankets, etc.
August 19. Sick increasing; 25, got a cup of salt and some
bread for bringing water.
August 26. A new bake-oven gives us better bread. Some
pork instead of rusty bacon.
August 27. Guards bring in fruit, etc., to sell, but it comes
high, thus: apples, $2 to $4 per dozen; peaches, $2 to $5 per
dozen; onions, $3 to $6 per dozen.
August 29. Surgeon took names of sick and wounded, ex
pecting to send to Richmond for exchange. Wagered an oyster
soup with York that we would be out of here in six weeks.
August 30. We were searched again for valuables. About
300 sick and wounded left for Richmond this afternoon; 31,
lonesome since others left.
September 6. News of the fall of Atlanta.
September 8. Bet an oyster dinner with Riggs that we
should be within our lines six weeks from to-day.
September 9. Rations grow smaller.
September 12. Rebs throwing up rifle-pits across the river,
near bridge.
September 13. So cold that many have to walk all night to
keep warm.
September 14. Crave fat meat; cold corn-bread with cold
water hardly enough; beans not fit to eat.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 313
September 15. Fifteen men went out of No. 6 to work for
the rebels.
September 16. Twenty men are working to-day.
September 19. Allowed to make chip fires, in the yard, for
crust coffee and toasted corn-bread.
September 20. Inspected by rebel General Gardner. Squads
of sick sent away for parole or exchange.
September 21. Men and negroes are working on fortifica
tions. September 22. Men are sought for to serve in getting out
coal, parole of honor; also men are solicited to enlist in the
rebel army.
September 24. One hundred and nineteen men come into No.
1 from No. 6. ,
September 25. Six hundred new prisoners come into No. 6 ;
hardtack instead of corn-bread.
September 28. Six men detailed to serve as butchers for the
prisoners. (We never saw much of their work. — A. S. R.)
September 29. Soup gave all those who ate it a terrible sum
mer complaint. Sorry mess of it.
October 4. Hear it reported that thirty-five prisoners have
been sworn into the rebel army.
October 7. Hear that Jeff. Davis was in Danville yesterday,
and spoke at the railroad station. (This must have been on the
return of Davis from a visit to Augusta to confer with Generals
Hardee, Cobb, Beauregard and others. — A. S. R.)
October 10. Men at work on the fortifications make a break ;
seventy-five of them escape.*

?The leader of this break was Charles F. Porter of the 18th Connect
icut, who for many years has been a fellow member with me in Post
10, G. A. R., in Worcester, Mass. With others he had accepted Major
Morfit's invitation to work on the fortifications across the river, with
the full purpose of using the opportunity to escape. These same
works, Jefferson Davis, in April, 1865, declared to be faultily located
and constructed. They began working on the 8th, and on their re
turn to the prison, No. 6, were treated any way but pleasantly by their
comrades. On Monday, the 10th, they overpowered the guard and
left. Forty-five men made the start towards liberty. Sixteen suc
ceeded in reaching the Union lines. Nine prisoners, including Porter,
traveled westward, and, Nov. 30, gave themselves up to General
Stoneman, near Knoxville, Tenn. On the 12th of Oct. Colonel Morfit,
presumably on account of this outbreak, was relieved of his command
in Danville. — A. S. R.

314 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
October 11. One hundred men sent as sick to Richmond.
October 14. With other sick, leave Danville for Richmond
at dark; 15-16, Richmond is an improvement on Danville.
October 17. Went down the river on a flag-of-truce boat.
Leave it at Aikin's landing; cross one and a half miles to Va-
rina. Those who can't walk are carried.
October 18. On Union flag-of-truce boat New York. There
are 400 of us; many are dying.
October 19. Start for Annapolis.
October 20. Reached Annapolis before daylight; sick go to
St. John's Hospital, others to Camp Parole; 21-24, in hospital;
November 3, furlough home. (He did not return to the regi
ment.— A. S. R.) FROM MONOCACY TO DANVILLE.
The first of three papers, read by the writer of this volume, before
the Rhode Island Soldiers and Sailors' Historical Society in Provi
dence, 1889, 1890, 1891.
Captured in battle on Saturday, the ninth day of July, 1864,
at Monocacy, or Frederick Junction, Md., the sun was well up
his eastern way when we, under Confederate guard and guid
ance, turned our backs on the burning stubble of the battle
field — dotted here and there with the naked bodies of our com
rades slain, and took a road of which we knew only that it led
southward. I have since learned that it was called the George
town pike. It was crooked and dusty; but not so much so as those
which we had found in Virginia. A request to go out of the
line to satisfy myself as to the identity of a dead man, lying by
the fence, is refused by the philosophical guard, who tells me
that I am better off without knowing. "For if he is your friend
you will have just so much more to trouble you, and so long as
you don't know, why, you may think him living. If he is not
the man you are thinking of, it isn't worth your time to investi
gate." Such cool reasoning as that I thought worthy of the
Mussulmans who burned the Alexandrine Library. At any
rate my curiosity and interest were not satisfied. The ascent
from the valley is gradual, and as we wend our way, we re
peatedly turn to look at the scene that is to be indelibly
painted on memory's canvas. The river; the railroad, with its
iron bridge; the turnpike bridge, now smoking in ruins; the
big stone mill, near whose base I heard the last order, "Elevate

PRISONERS OF WAR. 315
your pieces, men"; Colonel Thomas's house, around which the
tide of battle had surged the day before, and lastly, the wheat-
field, whence on that 9th of July, we had seen two harvests
gathered: the one in the early morn of wheat, the staff of life,
and the other at eve of men, and the reaper thereof was Death.
Every feature of this scene prints itself on our memories, till
finally the friendly hill shuts off the view and we can now give
ourselves entirely to our immediate surroundings.
Marching in any way, under a July sun, in the Southern
states, is not particularly pleasant. In our own lines, where
one could to some extent pick his own way, provided he did
not straggle too much, a man found walking wearisome; but
under the direction of an enemy, whose march was largely a
forced one, where we must keep in place and plod along, the
course became especially tedious. It soon became obvious,
however, that we had more friends among the people whom
we met than our guards had. It was a very common thing to
find tubs of newly drawn water placed by the roadside to sat
isfy the tormenting thirst engendered by the excessive heat.
Of our approach, I suppose the people had been informed by
the enemy, who had started very early in his attempt to sur
prise Washington. The kind and sympathetic looks of many
dwellers along the road, to say nothing of some pleasant words
now and then heard, went far to alleviate the pain of our con
dition. There were between 600 and 700 of us, many from the 3d
Division of the 6th Corps, and others from the one hundred
days men whom Ohio had sent into the fray. It was their first
and only experience, and many of them were in for a longer
stay in rebel prisons than their whole term of enlistment called
for. Speaking, once, of the little aid afforded by them at the
Monocacy extremity, to a Vermont soldier who did valiant
service on that day, he very graphically replied, "Hundred days
men! Pshaw! They were only honey to draw the flies." I
have many times since wondered whether I did just right in
refusing a drink from my canteen to a tall, muscular Ohio man
of the above category, who was marching unencumbered by
anything save his uniform. "Where is your canteen?" said I.
"I threw it away so that I could run," he very candidly an
swered. Moved by everything save admiration I assured him
that he might run for his water. I know there was little of

316 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
the Sir Philip Sidney in this reply of mine; but unlike the case
of the great Briton and the dying soldier, I did not think his
need greater than mine. Our first halt was at a pleasant little
village, called Urbana, where a kind citizen, perhaps Columbus
Winsor by name, of strong Union sympathies, sets out several
barrels of sweet crackers for our comfort, and bids us help
ourselves. Many intervening years have not wholly effaced the
regret that was mine over my inability to get what I deemed
my share of those toothsome morsels, nor my admiration for the
man who thus remembered those in bonds as bound with them.
It was while halting here that a rebel major, mounted upon a
mule, propounded to me the question as to why the Yankees
always called the Southern soldiers "Johnnies." I assured him
of my inability to ascribe it to any other reason than the well-
known fact that johnny-cake was supposed to be the great
source of life in the South. This appeared to him a not un
likely cause, and thereupon entering into general conversation,
I found him an exceedingly agreeable gentleman. I soon
learned, moreover, that personally there could be very little
animosity between the rebels and the men they guarded. The
difference lay in the causes that they represented.
We had gone only about four miles from our starting-place,
and the time must have been near noon, but the command
"Forward" to a soldier, bond or free, is seldom more welcome
than the parental summons to arise in the morning is to the
farmer's tired and sleepy boy. The country through which we
were marching seemed a veritable paradise. Soon after pass
ing through Hyattstown, I picked up a letter, written from
Georgia to a relative— I thought a brother — in the rebel army.
In this missive the writer distinctly narrated the circumstances
of several cases of bushwhacking. He set forth in the shooting
of unsuspecting soldiers by concealed civilians, in one case an
uncle, for which offense the latter was summarily hanged. He
also told of situations where he could have polled one for the
Confederacy, but fear of Yankee vengeance, he frankly con
fessed, prevented. This interesting and valuable letter I retained
for several days, till, fearful lest finding it in my possession,
my captors might think it grounds for ill-treating me, I threw
it away, first, however, tearing it up. In these days of general
denials of all rebel atrocities and of sympathy with the Rebel
lion, such written testimony as the above would have a particu
lar value.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 317
Our forward movement is unfraught with special interest
until we pass through the hamlet of Clarksburg. Near the out
skirts of the village an aged man is sitting at an open window,
the house being very near the street. An elderly lady, appar
ently his wife, is leaning past him with hands extended upon
the window-sill. So dust-begrimed are we that I do not wonder
at her long mistaking us for a part of the rebel throng which
all day long has been passing her door. Suddenly light dawns
upon her, and raising her hands, with an astonished tone she
exclaims: "Why, they are our men!" At once I eagerly ask,
"Who are our men?" "Why, Union men, of course." Utterly
heedless of the laws supposed to govern prisoners, we forgot
our situation and laughed and cheered. But the nearest guard,
not liking such demonstrations, thrust his bayonet through
the window and thus drove from sight the good old dame, who
seemed to us for the nonce another Barbara Frietchie.
Near here I picked up a copy of army tactics, prepared ex
pressly for those desiring to be examined for commission in
colored regiments. I remember well the thought that possibly,
during the period of my retention, I might be able to stow
away enough military knowledge to enable me to pass suc
cessfully the examinations on my release, but this, too, I
dropped the first time we were drawn up to be searched for val
uables, not knowing how my captors might look upon a would-
be officer among colored men. For aught I knew, the first man
to throw it away did so for reasons similar to mine. To tell the
truth I had several spells of carrying books while in the army,
spells, however, that became much less intense as the heat and
length of marches increased. I found many boys of similar
tastes and experiences.
Our first camp was south of Clarksburg, and as our haver
sacks, filled on the field of Monocacy, were yet distended, there
was nothing unusual in our preparation of coffee and consump
tion of hard-tack, nor in the refreshing sleep that soon fell upon
us. '
All the way down our guards had jokingly told us of the gay
time expected by them on their entering Washington, remarks
that we took more in the spirit of banter than otherwise, hardly
thinking it possible that Early would have the temerity to
beard the lion in his den. When, however, on the next day,
Monday, the 11th, we turned to the left on passing through

318 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Rockville, we knew that at least a feint was to be made. This
was a little before noon, about the time that the Confederates
reached the head of Seventh street, and found that the delay
at Monocacy had been fatal to success here, for old soldiers from
the 6th Corps had reached the Capital in time to save it. He
who saw and heard the strife from another standpoint may
never know the relief afforded to the people of Washington
when those veterans, bearing the Greek cross, marched through
their midst. Never till then, I trow, had they appreciated the
magic import of the figure seen by Constantine and which he
followed to victory. In hoc signo, they felt that they were
safe. What confidence the movement of well-tried regiments
begets! Taking the place of the government clerks, the hos
pital convalescents and the veteran reserves, these old soldiers
were ready to give to the Confederate commander an assurance
that he was not Early enough for them. As one rebel told me,
the Union men were placed so as to completely entrap the
attacking force, and only luck prevented this consummation.
But to my personal observations. Between Rockville and
Washington we were drawn up in line and thoroughly searched.
Money was the chief object of rebel cupidity, and all that could
be found was seized. In expectation of such an event, the men
having money had carefully concealed it, so that the net re
sults must have been exceedingly meagre. It was here, thus
drawn up, that I first saw ex- Vice-President Breckinridge. I
remember him as one of the finest looking men I ever saw.
His face was so classically cut, and his eye so piercing, at any
distance, that now with an interval of nearly twenty-four
years, I can see him as he sat his horse and directed his men.
I remember thinking, too, that an ex-vice-president might and
ought to be in better business than seeking to destroy the place
where, for four years, he had been the recipient of so many
honors. In addition to seeing General Early often, we saw
Rodes and McCausland, who were the most conspicuous leaders
in this expedition.
The day itself was one of the hottest of a very hot summer,
and many, both Federal and Confederate, were overcome by the
heat. While traveling this road southeast from Rockville, we
saw mortar shells sent up from the defenses, and the curves
described by them were most beautiful. Exploding high in
air, at times, they gave a superb display of pyrotechnics, though

PRISONERS OF WAR. 319
I must confess that our admiration was somewhat tempered
with apprehension lest "some droppings might fall on us."
To be wounded or killed was not longed for at any time, but
certainly we didn't fancy blows from the hands of our friends.
The afternoon was half spent when we filed to our left into
an apple orchard and were ordered to camp. We had passed
Silver Spring, the home of Montgomery Blair, and from the
nearness of the firing I concluded that we were pretty close
to the head of Seventh street. I recall very vividly that several
times during that afternoon, the early evening and the day
following, shells from our own batteries went shrieking
through the tops of the trees under which we were lying. It
required, however, no great acumen to understand that the
Confederates were not finding matters to their satisfaction.
The noise of the encounter on the 12th was great, and the
rebel yell, varied by Union shouts, seemed as vivid as ever.
Our Confederate foes must have thought the 6th Corps well-
nigh ubiquitous, for they had left behind them the blue cross
at Monocacy, and here they were confronted by the same em
blem, though the color was white. The red was there, too,
ready for the fight, if necessary. Little did we think then
that President Lincoln was himself witnessing the discomfiture
of the enemy and the victory of our friends and comrades.
The night of the 12th had shut down upon us and was well
advanced when we were ordered out, and this time our faces
were set away from the Capital. By the light of Montgomery
Blair's burning mansion, we marched away for the Confed
eracy. We then said that the house was destroyed in retalia
tion for the destruction of Governor Letcher's home in Lexing
ton, burned by Hunter; but General Early has since disclaimed
any complicity in the matter. He has personally told me that
he found, on facing Fort Stevens, that the purpose for which
he was sent by Lee had been subserved, i. e., some troops, he
knew not how many, had been drawn from Petersburg, and this
very arrival, while it blocked his entrance, lessened Lee's dan
ger. He had not, from the moment of finding 6th Army Corps
men there, entertained the possibility of getting into Wash
ington. Opposed as we were to the cause of the Rebellion,
yet I think we can afford a little praise for this affair, though
an unrelenting foe, in his leading his men by forced marches
over many hundreds of miles, through a not over friendly

320 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
country in some cases, down to the very Capital of the nation.
Nothing but final sucess was wanting to make him the Alaric
of the century.
The morning light was breaking when on the 13th we
passed, for the second time, through Rockville. It may have
been five o'clock, for I know the citizens were beginning to
make their appearance, and one good old lady quite touched
my heart when, through her glasses, she beamed kindly on me
and in the sweetest of voices said, "Good morning." How
those two trite, commonplace words, so often misapplied, light
ened the burdens of that long, toilsome day! It was a good
morning to me only in the thought that I had seen one kind,
sympathetic woman who, as she spoke to me, may have been
thinking of a boy of her own, possibly at that moment in dis
tress somewhere in this troubled land. All through the hours
of that weary day, at high noon and at sultry eve, still rang in
my ears those pleasant tones, so that even when our march
was prolonged all through the night, it was still to me, "Good
morning." We halted occasionally for rest and food, but nearly all the
time we were in motion. The feet of some of the prisoners be
came terribly sore. Those of Charley R  , of my company,
.seemed like two big blisters, i. e., as though the sole had quite
separated from the foot. Great tears would roll down his
face. He couldn't keep them back, but not a whimper did any
one ever hear from his lips. At one of our halting-places two
of our party, being Lieutenant Burton, of Company B, and W.
E. Duckett, of K, succeeded in hiding in some shocks of wheat
and made good their escape. Others tried it, but were caught.
During the 13th we found our guards not quite so dis
posed to discuss the capture of Washington as they had been
on Sunday and Monday. In fact, they were exceedingly wasp
ish, and on very slight provocation shouted, "Dry up, Yank!"
Passing through Poolesville, in the gray of dawn, we came
to White's Ford, on the Potomac, only a short distance above
the scene of the terrible disaster of Ball's Bluff. The river here
is wide and shallow, affording an easy passage so far as the
depth of water is concerned. But appearances are often decep
tive, for the bottom of the stream is exceedingly slippery. I
profited by the misfortunes of those in front of me. Many,
trusting to themselves alone, would undertake the passage,

PRISONERS OF WAR. 321
but slipping upon a smooth stone covered with weeds, down
would go their heads and up would turn their heels, thus giv
ing the soldiers involuntary baptisms. Seeing many instances
of this, I joined arms with a like-minded friend and thus brac
ing each other we made the transit, dry as to the upper portion
of our bodies. This was on the morn of the 14th, and soon
after we went into bivouac at a point called Big Spring, so
named from the immense pool of water, the first of the large
number of ever-flowing springs that we were to encounter on
our march. It was nicely walled about and large enough for
a hundred cattle to drink from it at the same time. Here we
rested, and for the first time essayed to cook our own food,
as our escort had been obliged to do all along. When I contrast
the living facilities of the Union and Confederate armies, I
am amazed that the latter held out as long as they did. The
Northern soldier, when he went into camp, tired from his day's
march, made his coffee, ate his hard-tack, perhaps gave it a
little relish from the piece of salt pork that he had in his
haversack, and in twenty minutes was getting welcome rest
from "tired nature's sweet restorer."
But not so his Southern foe. When his bivouac came
he had no coffee to boil, unless there had recently been a flag
of truce, and there was no bread, hard or soft, for him. In the
wagons were numerous long-handled, three-legged skillets, hav
ing heavy iron tops. These must be obtained, and the flour
dealt out to them had to be cooked, each mess by itself. As
there were not dishes enough for all to cook at once, some had
to wait their turn. In fact I learned that during a halt some
one was cooking constantly. As they did not carry yeast nor
anything like it, and as they had but little salt, it must be
seen that their bread would not have offended the most ad
vanced hydropath, nor have troubled a Jew, even during the
Feast of the Passover. Our Monocacy rations had given out
and we were supplied with raw flour, the result, I suppose, of
some part of the Maryland foray. Bread-making, thus, was a
new experience to us, and we didn't like it. As for myself I
must state that I gave up the skillet entirely, and mixing the
flour with as little water as possible, adding what salt I could
spare, I strung the dough out something like maccaroni, and
having wound this around a stick proceeded to warm it
through, holding it over the fire, rather a hot task on a July
21

322 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
day. I may say that I seldom burned my food thus. I couldn't
wait long enough. In summing up the advantages held by our
side, let us not forget to lay great stress on the superiority of our
commissariat, and among the items there found put among the
very first, coffee, an article more worthy the praises of Burns
than the barleycorn that he has immortalized.
We rest, with no incident worthy of note save the artillery
firing by Union forces on the other side of the river at the
retiring rebel cavalry, till about midnight. We are then
aroused, and again go plodding along, kept well in line by our
flanking guards. It is barely dawn as we pass through Lees
burg, but we are too sleepy and careless to note what is really
a most lovely village. It is apparent that our captors have no
time to spare, for they hasten along throughout the entire day,
making no more halts than seem absolutely necessary. We
bear a little to the southward, and finally enter Ashby's Gap
of the Blue Ridge. The region is mountainous and wild, show
ing very little for the many years that man has occupied it
The outlook to the eye is grand, and repeatedly the observation
is heard, "What a glorious sight this would be were I not a
prisoner." As a soldier, it did not take me long to learn that
he marches easiest who is nearest the head of the column. Ac
cordingly, as the days returned, Charley R  and I were found
in place with only a file of Pennsylvanian lieutenants ahead of
us, we yielding the place out of courtesy, for we were early
enough for the first, but the easiest place, to our blistered feet,
was hard. Again our march was protracted long into the
night. So sleepy were we that we could sleep even when
walking, and many a hapless wight in a walking dream and
thus, perhaps, falling out of line, was by the guard speedily
"hurried back to despair" and wakefulness. It was for the
guards themselves a trying time, but their sleepiness never
reached the point of allowing us to escape. Early and his
forces had gone through the mountains at Snicker's Gap, thus
keeping themselves between us and our army.
The hours of our night march wore on till about 3 A. M.,
when we stood on the banks of the Shenandoah, a name famil
iar to me from, my earliest boyhood, when I had learned the
speech of the Indian chief bearing this name, but I had never
dreamed of such an introduction as I was about to have. There
was neither bridge nor ferry, and to our tired bodies the water

PRISONERS OF WAR. 323
had an almost winter chilliness as we waded in. It was deep,
too, we having to hold our hands well up to keep them out
of the water. Drenched and dripping, we trudged along into
the small village of Millwood. Some of us were allowed to lie
down by the side of a church, on whose corner I read in the
semi-darkness, "Methodist Episcopal Church South." I may,
I hope, be pardoned for having even then a feeling of pride
that the division in 1844 of this great church, in which I had
been reared, was one of the prime causes in awakening people
to the enormity of slavery. However, though the church was
hot enough on this mooted subject, I found the north side of
the edifice extremely cool on that morning, and I was in no
ways loth to move when at sunrise we "fell in" and marched
over to a grove a few rods away. I was too tired and sleepy to
eat, and all I wanted was a chance to lie down. I remember
well putting my head in the shade and stretching my body
out so that the friendly rays of the sun might dry my soaked
garments. How long I slept I don't know ; but when I awoke,
the sun, in his climbing the sky, had not only dried my clothes,
but he had well-nigh baked my face, upon which he was shin
ing with nothing to intervene. We spent Sunday, the 17th,
here, and went through the usual routine of drying dough.
Here I traded with a rebel lieutenant for food a pair
of heavy woolen gloves taken by me from a vagrant knapsack
on the 9th. I had kept them for just such a purpose; but I
had no idea he would use them in torrid July weather. Imagine
my astonishment at seeing him wearing them in the hottest
part of the next day as we were going through Winchester, and
actually putting on airs on account of his gloved hands.
Monday we were off again, and I have since learned really
going out of our way several miles to pass through the city
of Winchester, thus contributing, I suppose, one to the eighty-
seven occupations which that devoted city had during the
years of the war. It was ten miles away, and we were marched
this distance that we might assist our guards in exciting ad
miration among the denizens of the town. It was simply an
illustration of a characteristic as old as man himself.
What Roman triumph was complete without its crowd of
captives? The savage Indian led his prisoners home that he
might see the exultations of the squaws and thereby increase
the story of his prowess; and we, too, had to grace, not a

324 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Roman, but a Winchester holiday. For the first time in my life
I heard insulting expressions hurled at us from female lips.
Revolting to me, to the scions of chivalry escorting us the
words seemed sweet indeed. It was here that my rebel Adonis
sported his woolen gloves. Passing through the city to the west
side, we went into camp, and soon had a little compensation
for the rude terms launched at us during the afternoon. The
officers of our guard undertook to billet themselves on a family
living near, at any rate within hearing. They were warmly
received. In fact, nothing but hot water was lacking to make
the reception scalding. The women, we learned, were Union
ists, and they didn't propose to wait on rebels, and they didn't.
The interview was music to us.
The next morning we left this city of many tribulations, and
going out on Braddock street, took the famous turnpike south
ward. It is the same road that subsequent events were to.
elevate into enduring fame, as —
"A good, broad highway leading down."
To us it seemed the perfection of road-making, so level and
straight that we were prone to say that we could see in the
morning where we were to camp at night. Under other cir
cumstances a prospect of a trip up the ninety-two miles lead
ing to Staunton would have been delightful. The valley of
Virginia was famous the world over for beauty of scenery
and fertility of soil. On every hand were indications of thrift.
Large and expensive buildings and well-tilled fields afforded
pleasing contrasts to the slatternly state of affairs in the east
ern part of the state. Immense stacks of wheat attested the
significance of the often-heard expression, "the granary of
Virginia." As rapidly as possible the farmers were threshing
the grain, farmers we were told now, but soldiers when the
work was done. This was the section over which Sheridan
was to sweep and to leave it so desolate that were a crow to
fly over it, "he would have to carry his rations with him."
For four years the enemy had swept in and out, at such oppor
tune moments as would permit him to put in his crops, and
later to harvest them. The ways of the rough-riding "Little
Phil" were not to the liking of the people, and to this day
they have no good word for him. In spite, however, of the
brightness of the scene, the cloud of slavery hung over it, and

PRISONERS OF WAR. 325
men who claimed to be fighting for liberty were still oppress
ing the bondsmen. I shall never forget my astonishment at
seeing at one of our bivouacs a fine-looking old gentleman,
without a suspicion of the black race in his appearance, hesi
tate at coming into our camp. He appeared to be very much
afraid of the guards. I accosted him in some way, implying
my thought that he was one of the old planters living near.
"No," said he, "I am a slave." If never before, I then was
more than glad that I was one of many thousands whose mis
sion it was to make him and others like him free.
Of the many natural wonders and beauties of the valley
we had little time or disposition to comment, though we could
not help noticing the excellent springs that this mountainous
and limestone region afforded. One in particular I recall, per
haps near Mount Jackson, that poured from the side of a hill
with volume sufficient to turn the overshot wheel of a grist-mill
located hard by. Doubtless it was simply the reappearance
of a lost river, a phenomenon not uncommon in such sections.
Our usual camping-place was near one of these ever-flowing
springs, so that one essential to health, viz., good water, was
not lacking. The villages, of which there were many, I remem
ber thinking no addition to the beauties of the country. Watts'
hymn seemed applicable here, for while every prospect pleased,
man and his village works alone were vile. They were com
posed of tumble-down houses, not made so by the vicissitudes
of war, but wearing a down-at-the-heel look which seemed
natural, another of the legitimate results of slavery's curse.
At Strasburg we bade good-by to the railroad grading, whose
railless and bridgeless track had constantly reminded us of the
devastations of war. One village, however, held a bright place
in our memories, for in passing through Woodstock, we saw
two girls, apparently in their teens, sitting on the steps in front
of the house, and actually having small Union flags pinned
upon their breasts. We were not slow in discovering this
patriotic display nor in making our appreciation known. To
the credit of the guards be it said that, though seemingly much
chagrined at this proceeding, they did not disturb the girls
in their sympathy, nor us in our sentiments. This place must
have a sort of political contrariness, for it is now the home of a
Virginian Republican senator, viz., H. H. Riddleberger. Near
ly twenty-four years afterward, passing through the same re-

326

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

gion, I found that peace has won for the valley great victories.
Those who saw these villages then would not recognize them
now. Progress has taken them in hand and thrift is evident
everywhere. Our guards I have thought a little above the average Con
federate soldier, and in our bivouacs it was no uncommon
thing for us to hold with them very animated discussions,
always amicable, except when the negro was debated. On
one occasion, words had run pretty high, when the gray-jacket
thought to clinch an argument by the threadbare question:
"How would you like to have your sister or mother marry a
nigger?" There was no delay in bluecoat's rejoinder, "Well
enough, if they wanted to, and how can I tell but what your
mother did." There were a bayonet thrust, a sudden retreat,
and no more argument that day. One youngish guard quite
made me homesick by saying in my hearing one Sunday, "Oh,
dear! If I was only at home down in Alabama; wouldn't I
take a ride to-day!" This and other remarks showed me how
similar in tastes we were and how absurd a war between
brothers was. Personally I had very little to complain of.
Once, however, as we filed into a field where we were to camp
I laid hold of a piece of rail to burn in subsequent cooking op
erations. "Drop that rail!" shouted a guard. I affected not
to hear, or to think that I was not the "Yank" referred to, and
so clung to the coveted bit of timber. When, however, the
second command came, coupled with a threat to shoot and the
clicking of a cocking hammer, I dropped the stick. Just why
he was so very particular at that time I don't know, for there
was little hesitation on the part of friend or foe to burn the
farmers' fences. In fact, the rage of one Virginian planter on this
expedition is vividly recalled. He came upon us and soundly
berated the rebels for burning his rails, which he had only
just put in place after a previous destruction by Union forces.
Thus it was, as a Confederate sympathizer has since told me,
"The Confederates robbed us because they thought we ought
to be willing to part with everything for the good of the cause,
while the Union forces took all they could get as spoils of
war." There could not be 600 and more men thus gathered together
and no peculiar characters appear among them. Of our party
perhaps the most conspicuous were two men of the "Ninth,"

PRISONERS OF WAR. 327
known as "Old G. and T." Both must have lied roundly as to
their ages when they were enlisted, for they certainly looked
to be nearly sixty years old. They stuck by each other, mak
ing common cause against us younger men, but frequently
quarreling with each other. On one occasion our purveyor had
dealt out to us a quantity of beef's lights or lungs for food.
Now be it known that however hungry I may have been, I
never liked that kind of meat, but these two old soldiers
would eat all they could get, and would even fight over the
division of the share that fell to them. So loud ran the dis
cussion that we gradually fell to listening, and were not a
little pleased at hearing G. say, "T., you old d — 1, you! if it
wasn't for exposing you, I'd tell this whole camp how you used
to steal turkeys ;" and this shouted at the top of his voice. They
never heard the last of it till prison rigors closed the ears of
both in silent death.
Eight miles north of Staunton we made our first camp at
what was called the Willow Spout, a beautiful spring gushing
out constantly from the side of a hill, and I have recently
learned that it is flowing now as then, and still bearing the
same name. Here a starlit night shut down upon us, cold as
Virginian nights always were. M. J. and I made our beds as
usual, with one rubber blanket under and another over us.
The sleep that tired youth secures so easily, speedily came
and sealed our eyelids. How late it was that I awoke and found
the rain falling pitilessly I have no means of knowing, but the
whole camp seemed aroused, and dripping men were walking
about in all sorts of disconsolate moods. Some had secured
a quantity of wood and had started a great fire, giving comfort
to one part of their bodies at a time. Save my face I was as
dry as ever. Drawing my head in like a turtle I flattered my
self that I should sleep till morning and be not a whit worse
for the rain. Alas! About this time my companion began
to nestle about and thereby to derange the covering. I be
sought him to keep still, but he exclaimed, "I am in a hollow,
and a stream of water is running under me. Can't you move
along?" To do this would simply put me in a similar predic
ament, and so I declined. Misery loves company; keep still he
wouldn't, and he continued to pull and haul till in sheer des
peration I sprang up, taking the covers with me, and in a very
short time was. as wet as the rest, which means that I was

328

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

as wet as I could be. I then crowded with others about the
fire, imagining that in our discomfort we were not unlike the
pictures that I had seen of Napoleon at the burning of Moscow,
our unhappy groups about the fire suggesting that cheerless
scene. Why, some of our men slopped around that night till
they passed the weary and saturated guard and so escaped,
while one or two fellows became the butt of ridicule among
their associates, for, wandering outside, they tried to come
into camp again, but were hailed by the vigilant guard, who
let them in only after hearing their piteous plea, "We're prison
ers." Was there ever before such honesty?
The morning brought sunshine and in its drying rays we
forgot the misery of the night. It was here that I found the
first Confederate who did not use tobacco. Just outside the
line he stood and proffered the weed for whatever the prisoners
had to barter, and however poor we were it seemed as though
there never was a time when somebody could not find some
thing to trade off for this narcotic consolation. I expressed
my astonishment at his not using tobacco, and he admitted
that there was reason for my wonder. He said he always drew
his rations of the article and then made the most possible from
them by trading and selling. I didn't particularly care to flatter
him, but I remember thinking him the best-looking "Confed."
whom I had seen. i
After a while we march out and are off for our last tramp be
fore going aboard the cars. Of Staunton we get very little notion
save the name. The train, such as it is, is soon in readiness
for us and we are loaded into stock cars. So, in spite of our
selves, in one respect, at least, we go counter to Longfellow's
advice, for we are — >
"Like dumb, driven cattle."
However, after our 200 miles' walk, we were not fastidious as
to modes of conveyance, and the most of us gave ourselves to
sleep at once. During the trip we pass under the Blue Ridge
by means of a tunnel nearly a mile in length. Just as our car
emerges an axle breaks, and a long delay follows, improved
by many in picking blackberries, whose vines, of the running
variety, cover the ground about the track. Cups, and pails
even, are brought into use, and our last dish of fruit for the
season is had. Of course we have only a general notion of our
direction, knowing that our trend is southward.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 329
Late in the afternoon we pass a peculiar, wide-reaching build
ing, which from its pictures I recognize as the University of
Virginia, and I know that we must be in Charlottesville. Afar
on a hill-top we can make out the home of Thomas Jefferson,
known in history as Monticello. I think how little the great
Virginian recks of the turmoils into which his country has
fallen. Within sight of Jefferson's "Pet," the university, and
almost under the shadow of his home, I sleep the sleep of the
just, lying upon a chip-pile hard by the railroad track. In the
morning we resume our journey again by rail, and soon are go
ing towards the south. This day's ride ends with our arrival
at Lynchburg. The James river, wide and shallow, goes tum
bling along over its rocky bottom, quite different from the
deep and muddy stream with whose lower waters we are fa
miliar. We debark and march up seemingly endless hills. We
go a long way to the outskirts of the city, and finally find rest
in a large tobacco warehouse, owned then, I have learned, by
Mr. Charles Massie, a man who lost everything in the war.
It was and is on the corner of Twelfth and Polk streets. Along
the way I note the omnipresence of the tobacco trade. In some
places is seems to be the chief industry, while man and boy ap
parently are doing their best to make way with as much as
possible of the weed. For the first time in my life I see small
boys, scarcely out of pinafores, smoking with all the composure
of old stagers.
In this building we remain two nights and one day. Here
I received the only blow ever given me by a foe, and in this way :
In the night I arose and started for the door. "Go back," says
the guard, and he follows the command by a smart rap over
my head with his bayonet. I had not noticed a line of men in
waiting, behind which I should have placed myself, only a
small number being allowed out at a time. Hastily retreating,
I muttered imprecations that were not at all pleasing to his rebel
highness, and he suggested shooting unless I subsided. I think
my remarks were in some way to the effect that nothing would
give me greater pleasure than to encounter him in some retired
spot where the chances were more nearly equal. However,
my feelings, more than my head, were injured, and they event
ually recovered their accustomed serenity.
On the second morning we were again loaded upon the cars,
and are once more nearing our final destination. Now a road

330

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

reaches down directly south from Lynchburg, but then we had
to take an almost easterly course, going through a country
which in less than a year was to be in everybody's mouth as
the scene of the collapse of the Rebellion, Lee's surrender and
the climax of Grant's career. We may have stopped at Appo
mattox, but I do not remember it. We certainly halted at
Farmville, but so slow is our course in our rattle-box cars, and
over a road that has long been a stranger to repairs, that it is
fully night before we reach Burksville. Whether our destina
tion was Richmond or the extreme South, we had no means of
knowing, but when the train, after much switching, changes
its direction, we know that we are to be strangers to Belle Isle
and Libby, and so resign ourselves to prospects of Salisbury
and Andersonville.
But we are to be happily disappointed. With the first streak-
ings of day, on July 29th, '64, we stop at a village which we
are told is Danville, and we learn that it is the largest place
in Pittsylvania county, Virginia. Later we are marched
through the streets of what might be even to us, were we not
prisoners, a beautiful place. The flowers looked fresh and
blooming as we filed along. They were the last that I was to
see that season, the very last that many of my friends ever
saw. Feeling much as I have thought the caged animals in a
caravan procession feel as they return the curious glances of
idling throngs, we wende*} our way through the town, objects
of much interest to the natives, who rushed from breakfast-
getting or eating to look at the first arrival of the live "Yanks"
who had come so many hundred strong to make Danville their
involuntary home. Along the principal streets we go, till we
file to the right and come upon an open square or plaza having
large brick warehouses on three sides. Into the first of these,
called No. 1, lying between the square and the Dan river, we
are led or driven. As I await my turn to enter I have time to
note the river, the cook-house near, and the building itself, three
stories high with an attic, into which as many men are crowded
as it can possibly hold. We realize that we have escaped some
thing in not going to the stockades, but what misery might be
yet within those walls, the future had not revealed. In single
file we pass in, carefully numbered, and are forced along, filling
the upper places first, till the old warehouse seems crowded
to suffocation. Only the enlisted men enter here. The officers

PRISONERS OF WAR. 331
are consigned to another building. The last man passes in.
The door is shut, locked and barred. Men with guns guard
the places of egress even then, and, as never before, we realize
that we are in Prison.
IN A REBEL PRISON; OR, EXPERIENCES IN DANVILLE, VA.
"When I was in prison!" How many people I have seen
shrink away from me on my uttering this expression; but the
appendix "rebel prison" invariably draws from them the words,
"What! were you in a rebel prison? In what prison, and how
long? How did they use you?" '
From intense aversion, the expression has changed to one
of the utmost interest, and there are indications of awakening
sympathy when I reply, "Yes, in Danville, Va. Between seven
and eight months, and as well as they could; but their best
was bad enough." The men, captured at Monocacy, Md., by foot
and rail, have finally reached the most considerable place in
southern Virginia, and on the morn of July 29th, 1864, the
heavy prison door opens and shuts upon our party. I have
always rated the total number entering the building at about
600. Of these prisoners, 106 were members of my regiment.
On the 19th of the following February, when we parted from
our prison house, I was one of forty-five "Ninth" men who joy
fully set their faces northward. It does not follow that the
difference in numbers represented deaths in Danville, for there
had been two exchanges of sick; but more than one-quarter
of our "boys" were left in Virginian graves. Just twenty-
seven out of our 106 succumbed to prison hardships, and in
dying found their release. Of those sent northward in August
and October, many were stopped at Richmond, and in "Libby,"
or on Belle Isle, found the fate escaped in Danville. Others,
reaching the Federal lines, barely had strength to greet their
friends, and then they, too, ceased from earth. It is a very
moderate estimate to claim that fully one-half our number fell
victims, in less than a year, to the results of our imprisonment.
Then, too, any prisoner who had passed beyond the period of
boyhood never fully recovered from his months of hunger,
cold and anxiety. When, at the end of the following April,
I rejoined my regiment and a comrade undertook to tell me
how much I had escaped through my capture, I quite silenced

332 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
him by asking if any company had lost more than half its
men during my absence; if the Valley campaign, hard though
it was, had resulted in the death of one-quarter of the mem
bers of the regiment. In the National cemetery at Winchester,
thirty-eight comrades from the Ninth are sleeping ; but they are
the dead from Opequon and Cedar Creek, with those who died
from disease during the fall. I make this comparison solely
to show the extreme mortality among men in a condition of
unnatural confinement with scant sustenance.
As to our location, we were in a brick building, erected some
years before for tobacco manufacturing purposes, but which
had been pressed into the service of the Confederate govern
ment for prison use; and I have since been informed by the
owner he never got a cent for it. In the list of prison-houses
in Danville, it is No. 1. Just back of us, on the bank of a
mill-race, is the cook-house, where Yankee workmen mix up
and bake strange combinations, called corn-bread. My mother
still preserves some of this bread as a Rebellion relic after
more than a quarter of a century. I think it is as good now
as it ever was. A small piece, shown by me on the Northern
Central Railroad of Pennsylvania, on my way home, having
a furlough, was provocative of great profanity; one man in
particular wondering if any blanked blanked government ex
pected God to help it when it gave such blanked stuff as that
to white men. I think my returning the obnoxious article to my
haversack and thereby ridding him. of the sight, alone saved him
from an apoplectic fit. Across the mill-race and between that
and the river Dan was the foundry of Mr. Holland, where many
weak-kneed and empty-stomached prisoners worked for a trifle
more than what they could get to eat. Further along rolled
the river itself, a stream notable in history as that whose upper
waters had stayed the course of Cornwallis when pursuing
Greene, and which, before it reached the sea, was broadened
into the Roanoke. Here it is wide but shallow, and its waters,
clear or muddy, according to the season, are to furnish us
liquid for drinking. Beyond it, the land rises into a high hill,
topped towards the west with trees, but immediately opposite,
open, and betraying, wherever the surface is broken, the pecul
iar red earth characteristic of Virginia and North Carolina,
for fully 200 miles from north to south. It is surmounted by
a substantial brick mansion, that of the famous Claiborne fam

PRISONERS OF WAR. 333
ily, and the view rests the eye that looks out from a room
crowded with woe and wretchedness. Save this building and
a few structures along the river's edge, there is nothing to note
towards the north.
When we can get a squint from the west windows without the
sight of the vigilant guard, we may see a large wooden edifice
known by us as No. 2. Here are the Confederate prison head
quarters, and here, too, are the few men detailed from the
prisoners to do various things for us. For instance, Negus, of
Company B, makes splint brooms to be used in sweeping the
prison floors, and Andrew Hall, of Company A, finds plenty
to do in painting the names of the dead upon the head-boards
provided by the rebels. These men convey to their friends
many articles of food that serve to mitigate the horrors of the
place. A passage-way separates Nos. 1 and 2. Going along to
the south, on the corner of Main street, is No. 3. This is the
place where the officers are quartered, save upon the upper
floor, where are the colored prisoners taken at the mine ex
plosion. It was said that these negroes were placed here as
an especial affront to the officers, the Confederates thinking
to thus heap indignity upon the Federals on account of our
employment of black soldiers. However, I never heard that
any one felt particularly troubled over their presence.
Turning to the east we encounter No. 4, just facing our No.
1. So here we have these four buildings on the three sides of
a square, making a convenient place for the guards to parade
and occasionally to drill a little. Here, too, they sometimes
punished those of their soldiers who had tarried too long
with the seductive apple-jack, and a "Johnny" on a barrel,
or in it, was not an uncommon sight. In other portions of the
city were prisons Nos. 5 and 6, and also the hospital;
No. 1 is three stories high with an attic. Our entrance is
made into an entry which runs the width of the building on
the west end. It may be eight feet wide. Opposite the out
side door is a flight of stairs leading upward. In this entry,
a guard with a gun keeps constant watch. Midway its length
is a doorway leading into the first floor. Here are placed the
wounded men who have been brought with us, and those who
soon may have to go to the hospital. Here, too, the prisoners
lay their dead, who die before they can be taken to the latter
place, and we learn to hasten down in the morn to see if any of

334 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
the newly placed dead are friends of ours. In this room, also,
a guard is stationed. At the east end of the building a door
opens into the yard, an enclosure having a length of possibly
100 feet, and a width of twenty. At any rate, its length is
the combined width of the prison and the cook-house, with the
narrow passage between. In the northeast corner is a sink,
and about this yard another guard constantly walks. In it
only a small number of men are allowed at night, and in the
daytime any disposition to unduly crowd it is resented by the
guard, and "you Yanks" have to make tracks for the interior.
On one side is a large trough, said to have been filled with
clean water once; but this must have been before our day. I
early convinced myself that I was cleaner by keeping my hands
out of its contents than I was by using them. Yet I remember
one man, a foreigner, who had the hydropathic craze, at least
I thought he had, who, every morning, immersed himself
therein, having, in December, frequently to break the ice to
get at the mud. I don't know that it was bathing that killed
him, but I do know that he died. Over against the building
we are permitted to make small fires of little sticks of kindling,
bought from the guards, and by this means we sometimes
make crust coffee and cook such delicacies as beef's eyes and
lights. Sometimes a rat is caught, and those initiated claim
that he made excellent soup. I don't know. Through the
cracks in the fence, looking out into the passage between the
prison and cook-house, such converse as we have with friends
outside may be had. Perhaps our friend has made us a cake
of sifted meal, with a fair amount of salt in it, with just the
least suspicion of grease added. If so, he will watch his
chance and toss it over the ten-foot fence, or, perchance, he
may secure the privilege of entering the building on some pre
text, when his quondam tent-mate and comrade will not be
exactly a bloated bondholder, but for a brief time he will make
his stomach the holder of a wonderfully satisfying morsel. In
the heated days of summer and early fall this yard is much
sought by the men, and, walking, talking, or seated upon the
ground, its area is pretty well occupied. Here it is that one
day I find Alonzo F  , of Company H, lying with closed eyes,
his face and hands covered with flies. "Why don't you brush
off the flies?" I say to him, fairly quivering myself over the
sight. "Oh! what's the use! They'll come again," is the drawled

PRISONERS OF WAR. 335
out response. Such a want of ambition could not long survive,
and very soon the sod closing over him shut out his tormentors.
Let us now go up-stairs. It is possible that under them we
may find a pious Catholic telling his beads and zealously say
ing his prayers, continuing his devotions in the face of constant
chaffing, for the prisoners are not over-religious. Poor fellow !
His prayers did not avail so far as release from thraldom was
concerned. His oratory was, ere long, vacant, and its occupant
went before Him to whom his orisons had so long ascended.
Up the dark stairway we climb and come upon the second floor.
It covers the entire space, with no break save sustaining posts.
Here, with others, the fifty-three members of the 106th New
York stay, and one of their men, Sergeant Pritchard, is a sort
of director for the whole building. He is a good, fair man, and
every prisoner recalls him with pleasure. About 200 men are
quartered in this story. Another flight of stairs takes us to
the third floor, where the most of the men of the "Ninth" lie.
Again there is an unbroken view of the entire room, and under
the second window from the west on the south side I throw
down my baggage and with my comrades rest. Between me and
the stairs leading to the attic are half a dozen men, mostly from
the Ninth, though my immediate neighbor is George Turner,
from a New York cavalry regiment. Should we care to climb
the remaining flight, we shall find, just under the roof, a poor
ly lighted and exceedingly warm place, crowded with human
ity. In winter it is correspondingly cold.
It does not take us a great while to recover from the fatigue
incident to our long journey. Then begins a protracted hunger,
to last till we see our own lines again. During the months
of August and September we are given corn-bread and occa
sionally a soup made of refuse bits of bacon, sometimes of fresh
meat — including lights or lungs. The bacon is rancid, and the
vegetables in it are not very inviting, consisting of stray cab
bage leaves and a leguminous article known by us as "cow-pea."
The well-worn statement that every pea has a worm in it had
no exception here. In fact we thought it had a double verifi
cation, but poor as this soup was there came a time when we
would have joyously hailed its advent. The bread, mentioned
before, was composed of corn and cob ground together, and
was baked in large tins — the whole upper surface being marked
off into rectangles, so that when carried to the floor for dis-

336 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
tribution, by a knife in the hands of the designated party, it
is cut into parallelopipeds of about two-thirds the size of an
ordinary brick. To each man one of these is given, and on it
he may sustain nature till the next morning. If he tries to save
any of it for a meal, later in the day, unless he puts it into his
pocket, the chances are that it will be stolen, so really the safest
plan for him is to eat it at once and then solace himself on
recollection and expectation till the next meal.
From one day let us learn all. It is, we will surmise, the
middle of September. Morning comes early to those who have
no evenings, and the first streakings of dawn have brought
us from our recumbent positions. Conversation begins. We
go over the old story of possible exchange, and perhaps wonder
what the folks at home are doing. At the worse we know that
we are twenty-four hours nearer release than we were the day
before. The day advances; but eating is yet a long way off.
Anon, men begin to take off garment after garment and submit
it to very close scrutiny. What are they after? Why is it
that nearly all, as they talk, keep up a constant motion, slap
ping now one part of the person and now another? Now a
hand is thrust up a sleeve and something is found that affords
the finder a deal of satisfaction. Then a quick grab is made
for something upon the neck and more satisfaction. Never let
ting the talk halt for a moment, one may turn down his stock
ing or turn up his trousers leg, and grim determination marks
his movements as he applies his two thumb-nails and by a sort
of quartz-crushing motion produces an easily recognized crack
ing sound. The individual who is going through his garment
regularly and carefully, in army parlance, is "skirmishing."
It is the Pediculus (humanus) corporis that is occasioning all this
activity. This parasite is an invariable accompaniment in
army life; but in prison he reaches his highest pinnacle of im
portance. The carelessness of some makes the careful suffer,
and to be entirely free from him is impossible. Occasionally,
indignation causes the men to take extreme measures with the
offender, and I remember that C  d's blouse was taken from
him and thrown into the sink. A finger could not be laid on
it and not touch some living, moving object. The owner did
not long survive the loss of his garment. The man who did
not care for himself was doomed. The fecundity of the insect
was marvelous, and, if later in the season, the cold prevented

PRISONERS OF WAR. 337
a search for two or three days, one's condition became nearly
unendurable. Certain boys anxious to know the time necessary
for incubation experimented and ascertained; but unfortunate
ly for the interests of science I was too hungry to make notes
and the results have escaped me.
The first duty of the morning is roll-call — not that any one
cares for our names, or ever calls them, but we give this appel
lation to the act of falling into line and being counted by a
rebel functionary, who comes in every morning. We are or
dered into place by one of our own number that we may be
ready for the officer, who simply counts our squad, that he may
account for all. It is easy to deceive him, and in the only in
stance of escape from our prison, men were lifted up through
the floor at the east end to make good the places of those who
had taken French leave. They had already been counted be
low, and, though the squads were numbered rapidly, they had
time to get up, and to fall in, thus covering the departure of
the escaped. It took a long time and much searching before
the deceit was discovered. Several times when thus drawn
up, we were searched for valuables, the rebels, somehow or
other, thinking that the Yanks had many greenbacks about
them. Strange places of concealment were had. One man put
his money well down in his bushy head of hair. Another had
sewed his into the binding of his pantaloons, and "Old P  s"
(any man above forty was "old" to his fellows) kept his in
his mouth. Knowing this, I said to him: "Where did you put
your money when the rebs searched us?" In a tone several
degrees softer than butter, the old fellow replied: "Money,
money — I have no money." "Why, yes you have, too! What's
the use of lying about it? You know you had it back in that
mouth of yours!" Now he lays his hand upon my arm and
gently beseeches me to talk a little lower, lest the guard might
hear me! >
Roll-call over, we may hug ourselves till meal-time, trying
thus to pinch our stomachs into a cessation from craving. It
is, however, always in vain — and when at 9.30 or 10 o'clock
A. M. we hear the entrance of the bread bringers we are in a
condition seemingly bordering on starvation. The slab be
longing to our squad is slammed down upon the floor. The
table has no cloth, there are no knives and forks, no napkins
and no grace. Very speedily the dinner is made, and with
22

338 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
wolfish eagerness we devour the portion allotted to us. The
crumbs resulting from the cutting are scraped up with the
utmost care, and I have seen men fight for them till they were
too weak to continue the contest longer. Two men who thus
fought, one from the 151st New York, the other a Jerseyman,
and who in their snarling fierceness reminded me of starving
dogs, were in a few brief weeks sleeping quietly enough side
by side in the burial-ground. With us it was not auri sacra
fames: but rather food, food, food. Hunger being the best of
sauces, the bread, coarse though it was, was very sweet to our
palates, and unless the system rebelled, as it did in some cases,
life could be maintained upon it, at least for a time. Occa
sionally our hosts' supply of salt seemed to be very short,
whereupon the bread was quite tasteless, and then one of the
chief objects of traffic among us was the same saline matter.
Breakfast, dinner, or whatever the meal may be called, being
over, we have absolutely nothing to do. We may, if we like,
study our fellow captives, and what a set they are. Here are
men who first saw the light in almost every state of Europe.
Wandering westward, they have been tumbled into the seeth
ing cauldron, called America, and, presto, they are transformed
into Yankees. The day is very hot, and clothing is voted a
nuisance. Item after item is cast aside, till nothing is retained
save what decency requires, and decency, it will be remem
bered, is a relative term. Here comes a stalwart Yankee who
first saw the light in Green Erin. His brogue is delightful,
and he can tell you of many adventures when, a sailor bold, he
ploughed the seas beneath the English flag. Upon his breast
is the indelible figure of a vessel under full sail. In red and
blue the picture is a tribute to the fortitude that enabled him
to withstand the torture from the many thousand needle stings
that worked those colors in. His brawny arms bear figures
of dancing girls, and he is to us almost as good as a panorama.
Here is a tall, finely-formed Yankee, whose voice betrays his
English birth. What is the history of the letter D, so deeply
stamped into his left breast? Many times my tongue was
on the point of asking, but I forbore, fearing I might learn
that it stood for "deserter," and I didn't want to think of him
in that light. But Hawthorne's "Scarlet Letter" was not more
conspicuous than this terrible blue D, which could be readily
seen across the room. The anatomist and physiologist may

PRISONERS OF WAR. 339
here study the human form once divine, but under the pinching
prison regimen fast becoming anything but beautiful.
From this cursory glance let us walk about our prison, being
careful not to go too near the windows lest some vigilant
guard, anxious to show his zeal, shoot at us. I say "shoot
at," for the failure to hit many of us was apparently through
no lack of intention on their part, but was the direct result
of poor marksmanship. On the west side we may stop at the
workshop of a Teutonic Yankee named Clippard, and him we
shall find diligently engaged in making chess-men, orders for
which he has from the guards far beyond his ability to fill, let
him labor never so faithfully. He works these exquisite figures
out of bone by means of simple tools in the main provided by
himself. I wonder if he be not allied to those Swiss who for
so many generations have excelled in toy making? His pay is
in Confederate money; but by it he is enabled to supply many
a luxury for himself and for his associates.
As we reach the north side and glance at the beautiful river,
and the waving trees beyond, our attention is drawn to a sad
sight at our feet. Here bucked and gagged is a prisoner —
and what is his offense? None that he is conscious of. His
reason has fled, and, alternately praying and imprecating, he
is fast wearing away. I shudder now as I recall the fervor of
that prayer calling on God for help, and anon, with fierce
curses, damning every object that recurred to his "heat op
pressed brain." Just a few days more and he, from earthly
sorrows free, will be lying beneath the soil. He is a Company
C man of my regiment, and was too old for military service
when he enlisted. Here lies a cavalryman from Oswego, N. Y.,
who avers that he would give a month's wages for a pint of gin
and an equal amount for a pouch full of tobacco. But he gets
neither, for he hasn't his wages by him. Just beyond, at that
northeast window, sits an industrious man. His name is Reed,
and he comes from that grand Green Mountain State, a member
of the 10th Regiment. He was never a large man, and prison
life surely is not conducive to growth. Day after day he has
toiled by that window. Bone ornaments of remarkable beauty
come from his deft touch, and Confederate money in abundance
comes into his possession. He, too, is far behind his orders.
The young rebel guards have commissioned him to make sleeve-
buttons and collar-pins for their lady loves, while charms and

340

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

pendants innumerable are fashioned by him. But with the ad
vance of time, his cheeks pale, and his step grows unsteady.
Finally, weak and poor, he is taken to the hospital, where I
lose track of him.
Ah! what have we here! A party of men are hilarious about
something. In the centre of the group are four men playing
poker. They have the only pack of cards in the prison. Soiled
hands have used them till they are in truth of mother earth,
and from the usual rectangular form they have been worn to
a uniform oval. The pack belongs to boys on the lower floor,
and these men are using them through having given to the
possessors some part of their rations of bread. Every looker-on
is getting enjoyment from the game, watching most intently
its progress. It is safe to say that the jack-pot is not very
full. A man reading! Surely, there are no books here! Yes, just
three — one volume of the Life of Charlotte Bronte, the Life
of Edward Payson and certain lectures of Lola Montez. These
may be hired of the owner for a small morsel of bread. I am
afraid the dancer found more readers than the Portland divine.
As we turn the southwest corner of the floor, we may find
a Yankee soldier, born in France, who is turning many an
honest penny in the shape of extra bread, through his power to
tattoo the prisoners with India ink. He has inflicted no little
torture on many a boy who will carry the marks to his grave.
But our Frenchy has a peculiar habit — one that I would not
credit, till I watched him, and actually saw him eat the vermin
caught upon his blanket.
Leaning against the wall, as we advance, is a party of men,
the most prominent of whom is First Sergeant Andrew Bixby,
of Company H. An animated discussion is in progress, and we
are greeted with, "Well, I'm blanked glad you are here. We
have been trying to decide how to make a mince-pie. Can you
tell us?" Sundry watchings of mother, years before, now stand
me in hand, and I am able to satisfy inquiring minds if not
hungry stomachs. This is a queer party before me. The sergeant
is one of the best men in the world, but he will swear. There
is nothing north or south that is not an object of his maledic
tions, yet he means nothing by it. It is a silly habit he has,
but one, alas, that sticks to him, and weeks afterward, like
Robert Buchanan's starling, he dies swearing. Here is Jimmy

PRISONERS OF WAR. 341
Smith, one of the best-natured Irishmen living. With what
a rich brogue would he roll out the dulcet strains of " A frog,
he would a-wooing go." His "Kamer-Kimer Keemer-ko," for
delicious trilling of the r, was never surpassed. If there was
ever a moment in his life when he wasn't ready to laugh and
sing, it must have been when I didn't see him. By his side
is another Smith, an Englishman, " 'Arry," he called himself.
He openly proclaims that he doesn't care a d — n which side
whips. He was a soldier in the Crimean War, and is a soldier
of fortune. He has cast in his lot with the North ; but he says
when his term is out — he is bound to serve that faithfully — he
will, if possible, go into the Southern army, for he wants to see
both sides. He is a good soldier, but repeated references to a
favorite potation of his has secured from us the name of "Old
'Aff and 'Aff." He hasn't the slightest appreciation of humor,
and my statement that an irate parent would name two cities
of France to a rejected suitor for his daughter's hand, saying
"U-shant Havre," is greeted by him with supreme disdain, he
shouting that the word is pronounced "Us-hant."
We have been around the room, and be the time long or
short, we have nothing to do but wait for night. As the dark
ness steals over us we seek our places, and on the bare floors
stretch ourselves. In the warm weather, with open win
dows and the air gently blowing through, the temptation to
amusement is strong, and I have heard every creature on the
earth imitated with more or less success. Before the animation
of our former liberty had quite left us there was often singing;
but as the days grew shorter, the nights longer and colder,
there was very little of sportive nature in the hours. Night
meant an absence of sunlight, and consequently more misery.
We lay as close to each other as possible, those within, of
course, warmer than those on the outside. The end places we
took in turns. When one turned over, all must do so. George
Turner's body was more sensitive to the touch of vermin than
any I ever saw. I have known him to leap up from his place
and dance around as some men would if stung by a bee, and
this he would continue till the cause of his affliction was found
and destroyed. Of snoring we have all sorts and sizes, and it
is no uncommon thing to have the aggressor jerked out of his
place and his slumbers by those whom he has disturbed.
Sometimes on the still air are borne sounds that leave a fade-

342 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
less impression. From the first floor came, once, strains of
harmony, so sweet that I thought myself in heaven, and that
angel voices were making true the fancies of my childhood.
Only the wounded men, sweet singers they were, beguiling
the long tedium of night with song, and it was that delight
ful ditty, "Kitty Wells," that for the first time in my life fell
on my ears. For several days delirium had possessed the brain
of a young boy from Ohio, who was just beneath us. During
the day, the hum of conversation drowned his voice; but when
sleep had pressed down nearly all the eyelids, then it was that
his plaintive tones came to us, and how he pleaded for mother!
Ineffectual tears filled our eyes at the sound of his cries; but
with him we wandered amid the scenes of his earlier years,
and we saw that mother leading him by the hand, and we saw
her bidding her darling "Good-bye" as he became a soldier,
and we reflected how little that Ohio mother knew of the suffer
ings of her dying boy. His spirit, ere long, forsook the frail
tenement and was at rest.
So then, day and night, and night and day, we stayed on.
Hope which springs eternal in the heart of youth buoyed us up.
Scarcely a day passed but there came a rumor of an immediate
exchange. There was little variety save as we watched
the diminution in our numbers. Occasionally, in the dead of
the night, there would arise a terrible commotion and cries
of "Stop thief!" and " Raiders!" would be heard. Some pred
atory scamps, knowing that certain ones had some sort of valu
able, would steal upon the victim, and, by a concerted move
ment, would seize upon and carry off the article. Before any
search could be instituted the robbers would have fallen into
their places among their friends, and no loss was ever made
good. The bag or receptacle would generally be found in the
yard in the morning. At intervals, as the hours advanced, the
guards would cry the time thus : "Ten o'clock, Post No. 8, and
all's w-e-1-1," drawling this out in a thinness of tone possible
only to those whose speech generations of tobacco salivation
has diluted. One night we heard the guard in the square
shout, "Take your hand in, Yank, or I shoot." I must do the
rebel credit for repeating his warning, and then came the shot,
followed by most derisive laughter from the prison. Some
one, to try the fellow, had hung a cloth from the upper sash, and,

PRISONERS OF WAR. 343
to the guard's eye, it looked like a man swinging his arm, and
his orders were to keep the men away from the window.
The only escapes from our prison were effected by two men,
one a member of the 2d Massachusetts Cavalry, though he
was a Californian, who let themselves down into the sink,
wrenched off the grate leading into the narrow sewer, and, at
the imminent peril of suffocation, through indescribable filth,
made their way out to the river and eventual liberty. [One
of these men, Patrick Mahan, now of Natick, Mass., was a mem
ber of the Legislature with the writer in 1894. During Cleve
land's second term, he was postmaster of Natick.]
In the month of December, one bright morning, the 16th,
those of us who were looking from the window saw the guards
thrown into a state of great excitement. Their guns had been
stacked in the plaza before us; but now, seizing them, they
rushed with speed to the officers' prison, and, thrusting their
weapons through the windows, fired. All this was an enigma
to us, and it was not till sometime afterward that we learned
that a plan had been formed to seize the guards in the prison,
rush to the square, appropriate the guns, free the prisoners,
arm them from the neighboring arsenal, and march away to
freedom. "But the best laid plans of mice and men,
Gang aft aglae."
Some of the officers had voted the scheme hair-brained, though
they went into it rather than have the name of standing out.
Your Rhode Island Frenchman, General Duffle,* was the chief
promoter of the affair, and it is possible that they might have
gotten out of the building had not the very anxiety of the pris
oners to get down the stairs occasioned so much noise that the
outside door, opened to their call, was speedily closed and the
death-dealing volley followed. Colonel Raulston, of the 24th
New York Cavalry, who had deemed the plan suicidal, was
killed, and several were wounded. Of those men who thus,
twenty-five years ago, made a break for liberty, probably not
a third are living to-day.
Men who had gone out to work on the rebel fortifications
from No. 6 made good their escape, at least for a few days.
Some succeeded in getting to our lines, more were recaptured.
*Vide note on page 198.

344 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Let it be said to the credit of No. 1 that, to my knowledge,
only one man was found who was willing to sell his services
to his enemies. He took the oath of allegiance and remained
there when we came away. It was a daily sight to see the col
ored prisoners driven to and from No. 3, there to dig upon
the fortifications. Neighboring farmers could secure any one of
these men by simply claiming them. They were beaten and
starved till scarcely any were left. One man was sent to Rich
mond as a cook and he came away from that place with us.
He told me that, so far as he knew, he was the only survivor
of the Mine captives to be sent North.
December 20th, in spite of a drizzling rain, I remained in
the yard till I was quite wet. This was at nightfall. By 8
o'clock I was down with an attack of diphtheria. All through
the night I had great difficulty in breathing. The next day I
grew worse, but there was nothing to be done for me. The
22d, in the morning with several others, I was trundled off
to the hospital in a condition which, I have always thought,
arising at home, would have finished me. There was no debil
itating sympathy around me, and 1 had no relish for a grave
in Virginia, sacred though its soil be. I was in no condition
to appreciate the view of the streets, though I remember pass
ing No. 6, and we are finally landed at the hospital. Here I
am assigned to a cot, and the German steward proudly refers
to me as the first case of diphtheria, and so far as I know I
am the only case during our imprisonment. In a few days my
disease yields to lunar caustic and flax-seed poultices, and I
then have a chance to look about me. The doctor makes his
rounds and asks me, "Well, how ye eomin' on to-day?" He
is a kind man and I respect him. Dr. Dame, the Episcopal
rector, New Hampshire born, and a second cousin of Caleb
Cushing, calls almost daily on us, and, on his asking me what
he can do for me, I suggest a book. The next coming brings
"Paradise Lost" — there being a degree of fitness in his selection
that I don't believe occurred to him. In December last (1888,
the 24th) I called on the aged clergyman and said to him,
grasping his hand, "You don't know me; but I was sick and
in prison and ye visited me." With what cordiality came the
response, "Is that so? I am glad to see you. Come, let us sit
and talk." For nearly an hour we discourse of these remote
times, and he tells that wherever it was possible he sent a

DANVILLE PICTURES.

Confederate Monument. Prison Headquarters.
Hospital Spring. Rev. Geo. W. Dame, D. D.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 345
letter to the friends of the dead prisoners. Whatever of im
provement there was in our treatment above that given to men
further South, I think was largely owing to him. To my mind
he filled, in the broadest sense, the definition of the Christian.
Though Northern born, his early going to the South, his edu
cation at Elampden-Sidney, his marriage and long residence
in Virginia, all combined to make his prejudices in favor of
secession; but he was more than rebel or Federal, he was a
Christian man. Going into one of theprisons one Sunday to preach
he found a second cousin, by the name of Cushing, from the
old Bay State, and he led the singing. So thoroughly did the
war mix up families. His talks to the men were always most
respectfully received, and when in the following April, the 6th
Corps entered Danville, no one received more considerate at
tention than the Rev. George W. Dame.*

?George Washington Dame, son of Jabez and Elizabeth Hansen
Cushing Dame, was born in Rochester, N. H., July 27, 1812. As a child
he was taken to Virginia by his maternal uncle, Jonathan P. Cushing,
president of Hampden-Sidney College, Prince Edward county (whose
chief town is Farmville), where the subsequent divine was graduated
in 1829. He lived to be the oldest surviving graduate of his alma
mater. For several years an instructor in his college, he studied
medicine, both in Prince Edward Medical School located in Richmond,
and in the University of Pennsylvania. He severed his connection
with the college in 1836. As an M. D. in Lynchburg he prepared a
biographical sketch of his distinguished uncle's life. Later, from
Hampden-Sidney, he received the degree of D. D. After all, his trend
was towards theology, and in 1840 he became the organizer and first
rector of the Episcopal Church in Danville. At that time there were
only eight communicants in Camden Parish, including Pittsylvania,
Franklin, Henry and Patrick counties. He had only four resident
members at the beginning, and he continued the sole incumbent till
1895, when he became emeritus. He died suddenly Christmas eve,
1895. He was married, July 22, 1835, to Miss Lucy Maria, daughter of
Major Carter Page, a soldier of the Revolution, and through her
mother, Lucy, a grand-daughter of General Thomas Nelson, a signer
of the Declaration from Virginia. She died September 11, 1895. Three
of their sons, the Rev. Wm. M. of Baltimore, the Rev. Geo. W., Jr.,
also of Baltimore, and the Rev. Nelson P. of Winchester, are Episcopal
rectors. Dr. Dame was conspicuous in Masonry, having been, from
1864 to his death, grand chaplain of the Grand Lodge of Virginia.
For the majority of the preceding facts I am indebted to the Rev. J.
Cleveland Hall, Dr. Dame's successor. The accompanying picture,
representing the venerable clergyman standing under tbe porch of
his residence, was made, with his consent, just as I was leaving him
after our very happy interview.— A. S. R.

346

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

As I convalesced I explored. I found that our hospital was
built for Confederate occupancy; but necessity had filled it
with Yankees. So far as I could observe, we received as good
as our captors had to give. A good lady* living near, whose
name I have never learned, daily sent to us some sort of deli
cacy, and that was honestly given to us. The two Confederate
officers who were about our ward held converse as to the ap
proaching Christmas, and great expectations were had over
a visit to the home of one of them. The principal present to
be taken was a pair of shoes, made by one of our men, to be
given to a sister. The poverty of the country was apparent
in the most commonplace conversation. On their return from
their festival they dilated on the pleasure afforded by that
one pair of Yankee-made shoes. The next May I met one of
these lieutenants at Boston Station, on the Richmond and Dan
ville railroad, the same being near his home, and I recall his
wonder at my rehearsal of his pre and post Christmas talks.
When, one morning, one of the men said, "That fellow out
at the dead-house had scales like an alligator," I was moved
with a desire to see that place. At the earliest possible mo
ment I made my way there, and daily thereafter I made morning
visits to see who had been brought out during the night or in
the early morn. I frequently helped the negro driver to lift
the dead into the boxes, there being for me a morbid attraction
for the place wholly unaccountable. As a rule the bodies were
not molested, though on one occasion wandering swine sadly
disfigured several. Once, at least, a seeming corpse was car
ried out before it was really thus, and, revived by the clear
air, Jimmy O  ds arose and, naked, marched into the ward
proclaiming himself "not dead yet by a d — d sight." Weeks
afterward I saw the same Jimmy peacefully smoking his du-
deen in Annapolis. My rambles are, of course, confined to the
bounds of the hospital inclosure; but with returning strength
came a revived appetite, one that my rations by no means sat
isfied. I refrain from telling the straits to which I was forced
in my researches about the cook-house, and the quantity and
quality of alleged food that I secured. My mine was the foun
dation of a little plan to run away with a western soldier,

?I was told that her husband was a surgeon in the Confederate ser
vice.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 347
though he came from Ireland before he went west, but before
we could get our stock in provisions we were sent back to the
prison. In my liberty or freedom of the wards, I went through them
all, in search of certain trinkets or keepsakes left by friends of
mine, and to see some of the living who were unable to leave
their cots. The little reticule containing peach-pit dishes made
by David Wilson for his sisters, I found and later sent to his
family. I stood by the side of Corporal Mead, of my company,
and as I saw his giant form dwindled to nothing but bones,
barely covered with skin, I forgave him his crowding me out
of the place I had made for myself one night down on the
Weldon railroad, and I devoutly wished him a safe passage
on the journey he must make so soon,
"Kitty Baker! Why don't you come, Kitty Baker?" is the
sad monologue that all one night may be heard throughout the
ward. I did not know the dying man ; but imagination pictured
scenes in a far-away land, where, perhaps, some one anxiously
awaited a coming that could never be. >
Frank Gustin had lived in the same town as myself, and I
promised him, if I survived, to carry a lock of his hair to his
aunt. During that last night of his life, his labored breathing
proclaimed the approaching end. The lock that I cut from his
brow was carried to the relative who had not known his where
abouts, he having run away to enlist.
I would omit the following scene did I not wish to reveal
as fully as possible the secrets of my prison-house. Says Stew
ard Small one day, "If you men want to see a sight you never
saw equaled, just come out here to the corner." We went;
seated in a chair was a man whom I had often noted as wear
ing a close-fitting skull-cap, which I had never seen removed.
It was now off and vermin covered his head in a way I had
never dreamed of. The steward, with a pair of scissors, clipped
off the locks, of a warm red hue, and as they touched the
ground they seemed to have a jelly-like consistency. The hair
off, a comb was drawn down his cranium, each draught rolling
up a wad of squirming life as large as one's finger. The back
of the head was like a mass of raw beef. We were close to
the path along which all those must go who went for water,
for just below us was a fine spring. These men were no
novices in prison sights; but here was something that aston-

348 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
ished them. Stopping, they, in turn, called on all the names
of the deity, and also those of the denizens of Inferno. The
poor victim seemed absolutely without feeling. The sequel is
sad; for, bereft of his hair, like Samson, his strength failed
and death soon followed. What was strangest in the whole
affair was the fact that no one remembered seeing him scratch
his head, and it was only Steward Small's discovery of the
vermin crawling from beneath his cap that led to the investi
gation. I reasoned that his whole scalp was paralyzed or be
numbed. '
My stay at the hospital is one month long, and then I am
marched, with others, back to my old quarters, or as near them
as I can get. Rumors of exchange grow more common. It
begins to look as though the Confederates would relent and
allow that a black man may be a soldier. After the coldest
weather is over, clothing that had been sent into the Confed
eracy early in the season is passed down to us. It is distributed,
but so hungry are we that we very readily trade it with the
rebels for something to eat, and in a few brief hours we are as
ragged as ever. Every movement on the part of our guards
seems to indicate that a change is near. By and by comes the
statement that to-morrow we go. To be sure, the morrow is
again and again removed, but that we shall get out is evident.
In our joy over prospective release we do not forget the poor
boys who sorrowed with us, but whom we must leave
behind us. Sergeant York of Company D, — how he walked
the floor, day after day, exclaiming that he must live
to get home to see his wife and baby. But even his
will can not keep him up.* Lee Marcellus, with his good-

?Prison notes from the diary of Norman G. York.
July 9. On skirmish line. Retreated till next morning. Got over
ten miles on the 10th. Captured on the 11th.
July 13. I am sick, but the guards use me very well.
July 14. Cross the Potomac.
July 16. Long march, 25 miles; camp at 4 p. m.; then 12 miles
further in the night.
July 18. March 14 miles to Winchester.
July 20. Through Newtown to Strasburg, and through that also.
July 22. To Mt. Jackson; 23d, through Newmarket; 24th, marched
18 miles.
July 25. To Staunton, 10 A. m., cars to Charlottesville. Stay all night.
July 26. Reach Lynchburg at 1 P. m.

PRISONERS OF WAR. 349
natured face, comes to mind, but he must stay. Tom Roe, of
Company C, as clean an Irish boy as ever crossed the ocean,
can not go home with us.
We all remember Sterne's "Sentimental Journey," and that
at the hotel in Paris he encountered the starling in his cage,
whose sole refrain was, "I can't get out." Here is the secret

July 28. Leave Lynchburg at sunrise and reach Danville the next
morning. July 31. Rations at 10 A. m., very short; rebels look half starved.
Aug. 2. A new batch of prisoners came in. Bread and bacon at 9
A. m.; soup at 3 P. M.
Aug. 4. Some sick men sent North. No soup.
Aug. 13. Anniversary of enlistment; 17th, John Perkins (Co. C)
went to the hospital, quick consumption.
Aug. 18. John Perkins died to-day.
Aug. 29. I bet E. P. Dunning the oysters that we would not be out
of here in six weeks.
Aug. 30. More sick and wounded men sent North. Sept. 3d, fresh
beef served.
Sept. 15. With Fred. Stell swept the prison floor. Sold my boots
for |25 (Confederate) and 14 onions, worth six dollars more. Bought
a pair of shoes for $8.
Sept. 24. Relay of prisoners comes in from No. 6; 28th, bought 24
onions for $6.
Oct. 3. Finished reading the New Testament since I have been in
prison. Oct. 14. Again the sick are sent North. Levi Riggs went out to
barber. Oct. 24. Gave $6 for peck of sweet potatoes; 26th, Dewitt Havens
died at the hospital.
Oct. 29. Bought some more potatoes. More prisoners came in from
Lynchburg. Nov. 1. Passed a bad night; 2-4, feeling badly. Riggs sends in
extra food.
Nov. 14. Got letter from Wm. York dated Aug. 29, and one from
father of same date.
Nov. 16. Hiram Peck went to the hospital; 17th, came to the hospi
tal; 25th, suffering from diarrhea.
Nov. 27. My illness is worse this morning; had a very poor night,
last night.
This was his last entry, though he survived till Christmas day, when
he passed over to the majority. Years afterwards, it was my privilege
to call on Mrs. Charles H. Covell of Rose, N. Y., who was the baby,
Lillian, never seen with mortal eyes by her father, and to tell her of
the absorbing love that imprisoned parent had for his child. Herself
a mother, she was able to appreciate, in part, how his heart was filled
with regard for his little one. — A. S. R.

350 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
of the horror of prison life. Over and above the privations
of hunger and thirst, more biting than cold or heat, is the
ever-present thought, "I can't get out." When, finally, on the
19th of February, we were actually marched out of our prison,
there was no prisoner-of-Chillon sigh upon my lips nor in my
heart. It was not yet the air of liberty that we were breath
ing; but the prison was behind and we were out. Down to the
station which we first saw six months before, we march, and
here are freight cars in waiting. Sixty-five of us are crowded
into one car and we proclaim it full; but fifteen more men are
jammed in. So, then, here we are — eighty men, or boys — too
crowded for lying or even sitting. Must we stand all the way
to Richmond? It looks like it; but we are willing to endure
that and more even if by so doing we may put distance
between ourselves and Danville.
HOME FROM PRISON.
The horrors of that night, from Danville to Richmond, can
never be effaced from memory's tablet. Eighty well men in
one ordinary box-car would certainly be uncomfortable, but
when we remember that these prisoners had suffered much from
long imprisonment, that there were men in the car who could
not stand alone, that the scurvy, dysentery, and many other
ailments had their representatives, some notion of the night
that was before us may be had. We were disposed to endure
a great deal, for we knew that our way was homeward, but the
condition at times seemed absolutely unendurable. The air
was very keen and frosty, as cold as it often gets in the lati
tude of southern Virginia, so in our poorly clad state, it seemed
necessary to have the car-door shut. The interior, in some
respects, soon resembled that of the famous Black Hole of Cal
cutta. The guard who stood at the door suffered with the
rest of us. The moment the door was shoved open for a breath
of air, some freezing wretch would clamor for its immediate
closing. Finally, I asked and obtained the privilege of going
to the top of the car to ride there. Since there was no danger
of any one's trying to escape, my proposition found favor at
once, both from the guard and from my fellow prisoners who
wanted my room. It will be readily surmised that my move
was not a jump from the frying-pan into the fire. On the con-

PRISONERS OF WAR. 351
trary, quite the reverse. My new Hades was like that described
by Dante, where the lost are infernally and eternally preserved
in vast masses of never-melting ice. I lay down at full length
upon the car, with my head towards Richmond and my face
next to the car. I didn't freeze, that is evident, but I was just
about as cold as I could be and still be able to move. Frequent
stops were the order in the South during the war. Accordingly
when the train drew up at a station, it was possible for me to
climb down and in for a change. Sleep was the last thing
thought of during these hours, the obstacles within and without
being quite too numerous to be overcome. As for myself, I
alternated nearly the whole night long between the interior
and exterior of the car. I have very little recollection of the
places or stations past which we went, save one, pronounced
Powatan, destined, in a few months, to have a world-wide fame
through the closing scenes in the great strife to be enacted
near; but I was not a prophet and so knew nothing of the
glories of the future. To me it was simply a place named after
an Indian chief whose name I had all my life mispronounced
as Powhatan, and whose more famous daughter, Pocahontas,
had rendered a distressed Englishman most excellent service,
once on a time. I wondered whether the scene of the saving
were not near, hence accounting for the name. Our guard,
however, had not received much culture from the schools, and
so was quite unable to shed any light upon the subject. He
simply knew that we were Yanks, proverbial for curiosity,
whose zeal for knowledge not even months of imprisonment
could extinguish.
Morning brought the sun and Richmond. I was taking one
of my reliefs on the car top when the famous city came in
sight. Had I then known all the bearings of the Capital of
the Confederacy, my exalted outlook might have given me a
view of the prison of Belle Isle, for it was plainly visible at
my left. This I did not know. Then I was more intent on the
sight of the James, which the events of more than 200 years
had rendered historical. The bridge itself was the one soon
to be burned on the flight of the Confederate president. We
halt just over the stream, and are marched, as we suppose, to
Libby. From the names on the street corners I soon learned
that we were on Carey street. From my outside perch it had
been easy for me to get pretty near the head of the line. Our

352 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
march, however, was destined to be a short one, for in a few
minutes we discovered ahead of us the celebrated sign, "Libby
& Sons, Ship Chandlers and Grocers." I well remember saying
to my nearest comrade, "Wouldn't that sign be a drawing-card
at a sanitary fair up North?" Some weeks afterwards, I was
not a little pleased at seeing the same sign advertised as the
most interesting object at a fair in, I think, Philadelphia.
Our march and observations were temporarily halted in front
of a very large building, which, from its numerous disconsolate
occupants, we concluded to be a prison of some sort. Natural
ly we thought the prisoners unfortunates similar to ourselves,
but on our making sundry remarks, we were informed in tones
unmistakably secesh, "We ain't Yanks, we're rebs." There
could be no doubt about that. No man, born north of Mason
and Dixon's Line, could articulate in such a thin-speeched
manner as that. We were in front of Castle Thunder, long the
prison-house of Confederate deserters and political prisoners
generally. Here we are made to march out in single file, that
we might be the better numbered. Of course we thought our
destination to be the notorious Libby, but we were pushed
right along and into a building opposite, which we soon learned
was called Pemberton, and a sorry old rookery it was, too.
It was three stories high, an old tobacco warehouse, deserving
a history of its own, but almost entirely lost sight of in the
greater reputation of its neighbor, Libby. We were under pre
cisely the same rule as the other edifice, but we were under a dif
ferent name. As we were sure that our stay was to be very
short in Richmond, we were disposed to endure all our ills with
a deal of complacency, thinking them to be of brief duration.
Our food was of the regulation pattern, corndodger, compact
and almost saltless, with as much water as we could coax out
of the dribbling faucets. We were as hungry as famine could
make us, but of this kind of ration our stomachs were thorough
ly cloyed. We ate but little of it and threw the remainder
on the floor, much to the disgust of our rebel guards, who as
sured us that we might have to go hungry for our wasteful
ness; but we ran the risk and awaited the issue. The debris
was gathered up and thrown into the street, where it afforded
causes for unlimited quarrelings among the colored people as
long as there was anything left. The officer who came in each
morning to count us was either a good actor or a perfect devil,

PRISONERS OF WAR. 353
for each time that he made his appearance, he came cursing
and swearing up the stairs with a revolver in one hand and
his note-book in the other. He had an escort of two or three
soldiers to see that the terrible Yankees did not eat him, I sup
pose. He may have been Dick Turner himself, but I can not
say. At any rate, he filled the Turner descriptive list pretty
well. His morning salutation was something like this: "Fall
into line, you G — d — d Yankee sons of b — s." It was new
usage to us, but he had the advantage of us in that he had the
energy of position. We might inwardly resent, but we thought
the best thing for us to do was to get into place just as quickly
as possible. There was no back talk, not a word, but if looks
could have killed, he had been a dead man a dozen times. His
conduct was of a piece with that generally had in Richmond,
I am told. Our views of the city, as in Danville, had to be
taken at a proper distance from the windows. One day we
heard a tremendous hurrahing and soon saw a large number
of men filing by our building. They seemed to be in excellent
condition and spirits. We subsequently learned that they
were paroled prisoners from the north who had just come up
the river. They were very enthusiastically greeted by the citi
zens, and they acted as though they had had enough to eat
in their northern residence. The contrast with the weakened
condition about us was painfully apparent. They marched off
as we did when we were well fed at home. The appointments
of Pemberton were not so convenient as those of Danville, bad
as we thought the latter. The sinks were at the end of the
room, and the occupants of the upper floors were at the mercy
of those below, for if the water were set running there, then
those above could wait till it suited the convenience of their
compatriots for them to be served. Of course we could go be
low ourselves if we liked, but we were not very well received
when we went traveling. The inevitable result of our want of
sufficient water was a very sad condition of sanitation.
I am able to record that I was in Libby prison, in war-times,
if only for a moment. Men were called for to go over to Libby
for the purpose of getting some wood. Thinking it an oppor
tunity that I could not afford to lose, I at once volunteered,
and with several others went across the street to the edifice
and down behind it, where on the canal or river side, we found
an entrance to the lower regions. This basement seemed to
23

354 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
be a sort of wood-house. Of course my eyes were open for what
might fill them, and I remember asking the guard if he could
show me the place through which Colonel Straight and his
comrades escaped. He pointed out a large opening in the wall
as the excavation made by the redoubtable Indiana officer, but
in the light of subsequent knowledge, I am convinced that he
was imposing upon me. However, I was just as happy then
over my information as I would have been had it been bona
fide truth. I didn't know the difference. How frequently is
ignorance bliss!
The morning of the memorable 22d of February, 1865, was
destined to bring to us more than usual significance. It was
to be to us the day of liberation. I can not recall the hour,
but on this day we were ordered into line and again we bade
adieu to a prison-house and filed out into Carey street. Now
we turn towards the east and it looks as though home were
in prospect. Our progress, though, is slow and there are many
waitings, which we try to fill in with observations on our sur
roundings. The "Johnny" dialect comes in for a deal of criti
cism. The average Southron will beat any other mortal living
in dividing monosyllables. To him "guard" is always "gyard."
"You" and "we" become "You-uns" and "We-uns." He likes
authority, too, and the devoted guard was kept in a constant
panic lest he was not in the right place.
It was during our march to the landing that I was guilty
of my only offense in passing bad money. A year or more be
fore, a cousin had visited my father's home, and coming directly
from a commercial college, he had some of the so-called cur
rency used in the make-believe banking of the college. Natural
ly he gave me a specimen of the bills, and as naturally I laid my
acquisition away in my pocket. There it had remained during
all my campaigning and imprisonment till this day. As before
stated, we did not eat much of the food given us by the rebels,
but we were very hungry all the same. So when on our way
down, the people came about us with food for sale, anxious to
get some of the Northern money, there arose in me a disposi
tion to work off that spurious bill so long in my possession. To
cut a long story short, it bought for me a loaf of bread, which
was speedily put where it would do the most good. Was I
justifiable? Let some one as hungry as myself answer. Any crit
icism from well-fed stay-at-homes will not be accepted. When

PRISONERS OF WAR. 355
John Brown was asked if he could find any Bible justification
in his destruction of property and life in his Harper's Ferry
raid, he is said to have replied, "Shall we not spoil the Egyp
tians?" After all we were not particularly concerned about
great moral questions in those days.
In the days before my enlistment, I had been an eager reader
and an ardent admirer of Edgar Allan Poe. Just before me
was the very stream in whose waters he is said to have swum
seven miles, and I wondered whether his course was over the
route about to be traveled by us.
I have stopped in Richmond twice since that day in Febru
ary. The first time was in the following May, when the 6th
Corps marched down from its camp in Manchester, opposite,
and crossed the James on a pontoon bridge placed very near
the point where we took the boat on our departure from the
city. My original visit was confined to the vicinity of Carey
street. Then I was under rebel guidance, now I was carrying
a gun, and we marched by the flank with fixed bayonets, mak
ing, as we ascended State street, a glittering sea of burnished
steel. From walk to walk there was just one mass of glisten
ing points. The blinds of the houses were nearly all closed,
for the occupants had no eyes for such a sight as this. That
one view of the array of arms behind me was something of a
compensation for the rigors of my introduction to the Capital
of the Confederacy.
My second revisiting was in February, 1888. Then I went
purposely to see what I could of the places so prominent twen
ty-five years before. The Pemberton of the Rebellion had dis
appeared by fire, and in its place was an honest blacksmith
shop where diligent toilers were earning a livelihood. Only
a tradition places the old building on the site. Libby is yet
standing, soon, however, to be transported to Chicago. "Another
reason," I heard a man remark, "why that city should suffer
from another conflagration." Despite the overpowering odor
of phosphate fertilizers, I have little trouble in doing the edi
fice and in tracing out the spots where misery was once so rife.
I seek out the home of Jefferson Davis during the war, now the
peaceful abode of a girls' school. The Capitol is entered and
all its resources explored. I go into the library and note the
prominence of Confederate faces and flags, and I wonder if Vir
ginia had any history before the war. Perhaps the fact that

356 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
it was a lost cause has given to the strife a peculiar tenderness,
for certain it is that we of the North know nothing of the
intensity of the fervor with which the average Southron re
gards all memories of the Rebellion. Climbing to the cupola
of the structure I can see the whole city spread out before me.
Just at my feet is the famous equestrian statue of Washington,
surrounded by other notable sons of Virginia, fortunately
erected before the war, or it would not have been constructed
at all, for now the Mother of Presidents is devoting all her
resources to commemorating the memories of her Lees and
Jacksons, men who did their best to destroy that which her
Washington, Jefferson, and others labored and fought to build.
On the other side of the street is the church in which Davis
was — shall I say "worshiping"? — when the news of the break
ing of the lines was brought to him and whence he made his
hurried flight. And then to Hollywood, where repose so many
whom the nation knows. The guide will tell you that three
presidents are buried here, but naturally he can only name two,
for the very good reason that Monroe and Tyler are the only
ones. From their graves we pass to that portion of the cemetery
devoted to the Confederate dead. As we wander among the
graves or stand beside the pyramidal structure that feminine de
votion has reared to Confederate valor, we will doff our hats,
for we know that those who met us in open fight were brave, and
that they deserve of us what is a tribute to bravery everywhere,
respect. There is one more place to visit, and we cross the
James and stand on the accursed soil of Belle Isle. We can
find not the slightest trace of the horrors that made this name
a hiss and a by-word among all Christian people. The river,
however, flows by just as muddy and just as forbidding as
when it formed an effectual barrier to the famishing prisoner
held upon the island. Noisy and busy iron-works occupy the
eastern end of the isle, and only a barren waste is found where
once was suffered unutterable agony. I wonder why Chicago
doesn't buy Belle Isle !
We were told that we were the first detachment to go down
the river under the resumption of the general cartel of ex
change; but of this I am not prepared to affirm or deny. I do
know that we were a very happy lot of men and boys on our
way to what we called God's country, happy though we knew
that we had left behind us upon the prison floor the dead

PRISONERS OF WAR. 357
bodies of two of our comrades. They had died on the very
threshold of freedom. In fancy I often see those lonely bodies
stretched in death, bodies whose souls had only a day or two
before rejoiced with us on the advent of certain liberty; but
they were not strong enough for the journey, and the cup fell
from them even when at their very lips. Another who was sup
ported by tender hands as we went down to the boat, had not
the strength to leave it, and was carried back to Richmond for
rebel burial.
The boat itself is only a dim image through the intervening
years. I remember that in front of the pilot-house were seated
General Robert Oulds, well known in the annals of prisoner
exchanges as the Confederate commissioner, and by his side
were Brigadier Generals John Hays, of New York, and A. N.
Duffle, of Rhode Island, the unsuccessful garroter in the at
tempted escape from Danville. They had not the least trace
of any differences of opinions, and for aught we could see they
were friends of long standing. I envied the Union officers the
information that I was certain the commissioner was giving
them. I knew that we were passing historic scenes, but my
comrades were as ignorant as myself, and the rebel guards
were as stupid as usual, and that means that their education
did not begin very early. The boat picked its way very ginger
ly all the distance down, for the river was well planted with
torpedoes, and the rebs knew how thoroughly loaded they
were. Some points we recognized without any informants, as
a frowning fortification on our right we readily named Fort
Darling, long a source of Federal anxiety. The Dutch Gap
canal, the scene of General Butler's efforts, is also found; but
in the main the descent of the stream is rather tame. At Rich
mond some of the men had received long-delayed boxes, and
now on their way down the river they regaled themselves with
the contents. They were objects of almost wolfish regard to their
fellow prisoners, in whose stomachs there were vacua of long
existence. How quickly we forgot our ills. An officer, whose
stomach had become pretty well filled by the contents of his
box, was about to throw overboard a cheese-rind. I had been
watching the man for some time, wondering where my share
was to come in. Disgusted at such wicked wastefulness I
eagerly sought the morsel for myself. It was given to me, but
with much the same expression that a rebel officer's face wore

358

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

when he saw a half-famished prisoner in Danville gnawing
ravenously at an old bone that he had picked up somewhere.
I believe the rebel called upon the Saviour of mankind in no
reverent manner to witness that he had never seen anything
so disgusting before. My donor had forgotten his own feelings
a few hours previously, when he, too, would have eaten anything
that he could find, clean or filthy.
Just a little ways below Butler's canal, in fact scarcely more
than around the bend, we are delighted at the sight of a man
standing on the shore holding a white flag. It is Colonel Mul
ford, the Federal commissioner of exchange, and he is await
ing us. We are all excitement, and naturally so. A few paces
back of him are a few soldiers, a sort of escort. Our boat
rounds up to the landing, which we learn is Aiken's, very ap
propriately named, we thought, for it was just the place we
had been aching to reach for many a long and weary day.
The guards have difficulty in keeping us away from the side of
the vessel, so anxious are we to be the first off the boat and
so the first out of the Confederacy. Force only prevented many
jumping from the boat in our insane eagerness to touch the
shore. Colonel Mulford is hailed with as loud a cheer as we
are capable of giving, and soon the plank is run out for us
to debark. The survival of the fittest is in order, and those
who are the best preserved come to the front. Instead, how
ever, of our getting off in the hit-or-miss order characteristic
of a Sunday-school picnic, we are obliged to get in line, that
we may be counted for the last time in the Confederacy. For
months I had been only a numeral. Every day somebody had
counted me, and I would have been missed as one less if I
had disappeared, but in no other way. No enemy had taken
my name nor apparently cared for it. Now I was about to
recover my identity, to be something more than a mathemati
cal fact. I leave the vessel the eighteenth man, and Brutus
like I could have embraced the earth upon which I trod. With
one accord we tried to do justice to our liberation by vociferous
shouting, but here, too, we fail. Though we had used our voices
during our imprisonment, it was in no boisterous manner, and
we were quite unequal to the occasion. Instead of the bold,
manly tones of old, we found our voices dwindled to childish
trebles and our utterances scarcely more than chicken peeps.
Near by are ambulances for the conveyance of those who

PRISONERS OF WAR. 359
can not walk, and they are many. Can I walk? Yes, to Wash
ington, if necessary, if it only be northward, but I have over
rated my strength. The sight of friendly faces and the breath
of freedom have intoxicated me, and I am not conscious of my
own weakness. Three miles intervene between us and the
vessel that is to take us homeward. We set our faces with
much determination towards Varina, where we are to be re
ceived. Weariness is an absurdity. But Dame Nature tolerates
no nonsense. She is not enthusiastic. Legs that have had no
other sustenance than that afforded by scanty rations of corn
dodger for long months soon weaken. We effervesce quickly,
and the distance at first so insignificant grows to a long and
tedious march. Many could not make it and had to be picked
up by the ambulances. However, the end comes at last, and
as we rise a little hillock and see the reception provided for
us, tears start from many an eye. It is the 22d of February,
Washington's birthday, and all the bunting that the military
and shipping possessed was flung to the breezes. What a sight
for flag-hungry eyes! To my mind there is nothing lacking in
the way of beauty in the American flag. Poets and orators
have descanted upon its glories, but they have never done it
justice, simply because it is impossible. There are thoughts
in the soul too sublime for utterance, and such I think must
be those of a man whom necessity has separated from his
country for a time, and to whose view comes suddenly the em
blem of all that the patriot holds dear, that for which he would
offer up his life if necessary. To add to the pleasures of the
hour a mounted band, said to be from Massachusetts, was play
ing national airs. It was a greeting long to be remembered.
Red, white and blue in color harmonized perfectly with the
same in sound. "The Star Spangled Banner" from brazen throats
was wafted back by gaudy pennons, whose brilliant hues flashed
from every mast, and rainbow-like encircled ship and cordage.
"Man shall not live by bread alone" was uttered long ago, and
its truth is not disputed. Equally true is its converse that
man can not live on sentiment. For us, those vessels contained
good honest food and we knew it, and we stood not on the
order of our going as we approached them. We were a hard
looking lot. Ragged beyond description, and as filthy as
ragged. Long contact with the floors of our prison-houses had
not kept our garments over nice. Hunger was evident in every

360 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
look and movement. It was no trifling task to feed such a
herd. Now that we were so near something to eat, it seemed
as if we must famish before food could be furnished to us. A
waiter at the tables of the officers goes through our midst with
a pail of refuse, intending to throw it overboard. He is at once
set upon by hungry men who would rob the pail of its contents,
to such an insane pitch has their hunger risen. It is only by
main force that he breaks through the crowd and throws away
the filth, saluted, however, by a perfect howl of rage from the
disappointed prisoners, who manifest a disposition to throw
him over along with the garbage.
"Fall in for rations," is the most welcome remark that we
have heard in many a day, and it needs no repetition, for we
are there immediately. Four hardtack each, a small piece of
boiled salt pork and a quart of coffee were the items given us,
it being presumed that in our enfeebled condition a greater
quantity would be harmful; but I had gauged my stomach
differently, and I was certain that small amount would not
do for me. It was an easy matter to receive my portion and
then slipping around to another point get a second share. I
doubled the rations of hard bread and pork, and after stowing
all this away where it was safe, I wrapped an old bed cover
that I had found about me and sought my couch for the night,
said couch being the deck of the vessel. Were my dreams pleas
ant? No follower of the advice in Thanatopsis ever laid him
self down to happier sleep.
Our ship was the "George Leary," and when I went to sleep
she was quietly flying her colors at her dock called Varina.
When I awoke she was well on her way to Annapolis. There
was little to vary the monotony of eating and sleeping till we
reached Annapolis, which was on the morning of February 24th.
We leave our floating quarters and file through the grounds
of the United States Naval School, and are soon drawn up be
fore the headquarters in College Green Barracks. This depot
was thus named from its occupying the back premises of St.
John's College, an Episcopal institution, whose most famous
graduate, I was repeatedly told while in Annapolis, was Rev-
erdy Johnson, for many years a distinguished member of the
United States Senate from Maryland. There was a curious
company of paroled men standing by to greet us. Much to my
surprise some one from the throng called out, "Is that you,

PRISONERS OF WAR. 361
Roe?" I had to confess that it was Roe, or what was left of
him. My saluter was one Schiffer, a member of the 5th New
York Cavalry, and a fellow worker of mine in the disbursing
office at Auburn, N. Y. After handshakes and mutual inquiries
as to how we got there, he asks me if I am hungry. To this
I have only to tell him to look at me. It is enough. He dis
appears only to reappear with a whole loaf of bread, a huge
piece of boiled beef, and two big cucumber pickles. To divide
my prizes with my nearest neighbor, Charlie Cater, is the work
of a moment. Another moment suffices to get rid of the food,
at any rate of all external indications. Schiffer continues his
kind offices by asking me if I wouldn't like some money. To this
proposition I am nothing loth, and a couple of dollars are speed
ily transferred from him to me. Before breaking ranks we are
furnished with certain necessary utensils and told when and
where to get our rations ; but I was too hungry to wait for any
cook-house signal, so as quickly as possible I made my way to the
sutler's and invested in about a foot of Bologna sausage and a
dozen ginger cookies. With these I proceeded to the quarters
assigned me and there endeavored again to satisfy my hunger.
I had not more than eaten this last supply when the bugle
summoned us to the cook-house for food. I took my quart cup
for coffee and another for bean soup. My cups were filled,
whatever my own condition was. It was not till I had done
justice to this last installment that I began to be at all satisfied.
I may as well state right here that hunger to the recently
paroled prisoner was like the thirst ascribed to the drunkard,
absolutely insatiable. To paraphrase the words of the hymn,
we ate, but ever more were hungry. Many a man lost his life
through indiscretion in eating. I must think that I owed my
own life to the fact that my stomach was tolerably new, and
so far as I was concerned, had been pretty well used, i. e., I
had never abused it by excesses of any sort. The middle-aged
men and those who had been hard drinkers found the new
ordeal a very severe one. As I regard the matter now, I wonder
what I did with so much food, but it was no wonder to me
then. The fifty-seven dollars of half ration money paid to me
at the barracks was nearly all expended in what I called get
ting even with time. If this was money for food that I had not
eaten, then I clearly owed it to myself to eat its value as soon
as possible. It was not till months afterward that the un-

362 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
natural craving for food wore away. To anticipate a little,
when I reached home my appetite was at high-water mark, and
I became the great wonder of the neighborhood. I could not
wait for breakfast before beginning to eat; a luncheon in the
forenoon was always necessary; my dinner was a hearty one,
and there had to be a filling in time long before supper, and
after that usually final meal, I found it desirable to take a
parting mouthful before retiring. Chinking, so to speak, was
had constantly in the way of pop-corn and apples. I lived
through it; many didn't.
After we had time to attend to the demands of hunger, our
very careful supervisors ordered us to the bath-house, where
we were stripped of every rag of apparel and subjected to a
most thorough scrubbing with hot water and soap. The cast-
off clothing was piled up like a small hill outside of the build
ing. In my haste and happiness to get rid of my old prison
reminders, I failed to take from my pocket the remainder of
the money that my comrade, Schiffer, had loaned me. When
my loss occurred to me it was too late to remedy it, for a long
and diligent search among the filthy cast-off rags availed me
nothing. In a pile of several thousand United States garments
he would be a wise man who could recognize his own breeches.
At the instigation of Schiffer, I remained a few days at the
college barracks to assist, but I found that my long lack of.
familiarity with the pen had served to make me almost a child
again, so I was of little use in the office. I was too weak for the
room where clothing was dealt out. Besides, I knew that away
up north a family was wondering where the oldest boy was,
and the tugs at my heart-strings were stronger than I could
resist. I might linger here to tell of the fun that those who
were regularly detached had at their quarters; of the quaint
and queer tricks they played; of the surroundings of the bar
racks ; but these items would not have sufficient bearing on my
story. I managed to see something of the city, famous in our
national annals. I sat in the very room where Washington
stood when he resigned his commission as commander of the
Revolutionary armies, and I crawled to the very top of the
State House. I actually went up on hands and knees, because
my legs failed me in the stair-climbing business.
Concluding that my duty called me home at the earliest mo
ment possible, I asked for a transferral to parole camp. This

PRISONERS OF WAR. 363
was located some three or four miles west of the city and had
accommodations for several thousand men. Eating and talk
ing over late hardships, along with the comparing of notes
with men from other prisons, formed our chief occupation here.
My furlough and my departure come speedily, and happily I
make my way to Baltimore, and thence by the Northern Cen
tral railroad I journey homeward. The only incident of this
trip worthy of mention, is the stopping for dinner in Williams
port, Penn. There was a great throng at the restaurant, and
before I could get to the table the bell rang for us to go aboard
the cars. What was I to do? I had paid my dollar and a half
— dinners cost something in those days — and had not had a
mouthful. My old haversack was at my side. It would hold
everything but coffee. I resolved to put it to the test. Accord
ingly I made my way to the table regardless of ceremony, and
procured a cup of coffee, which I drank at once. Then, opening
the wide mouth of my haversack, I tumbled in everything that
I could reach. Bread, meat of all descriptions, vegetables as I
could find them, till the well-filled interior of the bag reminded
me that I must have my money's worth. This was not done on
the sly, I'll assure you, for I was the observed of all observers,
receiving from them hearty cheers while I was filling up. The
supply was ample for me even, clear up to my reaching home.
It was on this trip that a fellow passenger indulged in the
profanity alluded to in a former paper, over a piece of my
ration preserved from Danville.
• Reaching Elmira late at night, and having to leave early in
the morning, I enter a saloon and solicit the privilege of spread
ing my blanket on the floor for a few hours, a favor readily
granted. This is no hardship for me, since I am used to a bed
on the floor. The unceasing din of noisy drinkers does not
disturb me in the least. At the proper hour I took the train
for Watkins, and went by boat to Geneva on the old New York
Central railroad. As I wandered over the boat I was not a
little pleased to find it the very one in which I had journeyed
southward a year before. I knew it, for written on the smoke
stack was my own name, placed there, boy-like, by myself. I
felt as if I had found an old friend.
The great throbbing engine can not bear me swiftly enough,
now that I am on my homeward way. Eastward we fly,
through Syracuse, Rome, Utica, till finally I am deposited in

364 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Herkimer, whence I am to make my trip by foot to Middleville,
six miles further north. My entire way is along the bank of the
West Canada creek, whose waters some miles above form the
famous Trenton Falls, but I am not just now aesthetically in
clined. I am going home as fast as my strength will admit.
Of course I should have gone to a stable and hired a convey
ance, but again I overrated my powers of endurance. I had
walked this same road repeatedly before, and why not now!
I had progressed only a little way when it became painfully
apparent that I could not hold out. Accordingly I called at
the next house and asked the farmer if I could hire him to carry
me to Middleville. This he consented to do for a dollar and a half.
Snugly ensconced in a sleigh with plenty of buffalo robes about
me, I made the remainder of the journey comfortably.
Reaching the village, I dismiss my driver as soon as I arrive
in sight of the lighted windows in the parsonage. It is more
than a year since I saw the interior of that house, and eight
months since I have heard from any of its occupants. What
changes may not have taken place in that interval! Is it any
wonder that I do not wish any outsider to witness the meet
ing? The curtains are down, so I get no revelation as I ap
proach. Drawing the cape of my overcoat above my head' I
advance to the door and knock. Soon a step approaches. I
think it that of my father. The door opens and father stands
before me. The soldier coat for a moment confuses him, but
it is for a moment only, for he speedily exclaims, "Why, my
son," and grasps me warmly by the hand. By this time I
have entered the room, where mother takes me to her heart as
only a mother can. My sister disputes with her the possession
of my head and shoulders, a seven-year-old brother is hugging
for dear life the lower part of my body; but through all this
I am sensible there is something lacking. My anxious look is
detected. My eyes have indicated what my tongue dare not
utter. My brother, just in his teens, is missing. Mother, whose
hair has silvered rapidly during my absence, says, "You are
looking for Mort." This was and is the home name of Morti
mer, the playmate of my boyhood. "He is not at home now.
He has secured a place to work in Auburn." What a sigh of
relief I drew, for I feared that the vacancy indicated that the
boy at home had succumbed to that which his soldier brother
had escaped. A telegram speedily summons him, and ere many

PRISONERS OF WAR. 365
hours the family is reunited. Of the comparing of notes, of the
battles fought over, of the rejoicings that home was found,
why take your time to tell? They are in the lives and experi
ences of every listener who went to the war and then came
back to his home again.
Perhaps, however, I shall never have a better opportunity to
say a word about those who saw the home side of the war.
We who went down to the strife, carried the guns, and as we
thought then endured all the hardships, knew nothing of the
terrible anxiety of those whom we left behind us. The great
majority of the rank and file were irresponsible boys who were
fairly happy when their stomachs were full and the marches
were not too long. Of what a father's sensations might be I
had not the slightest notion till long after the din was over.
The older men of our comrades did not receive from us the
consideration that I now think was their due. They were fre
quently laughed at as blue and gloomy, when all of us would
have been just the same had we had equal responsibilities. But
young and old we had the consolation of action. The march,
the bivouac, the fight, all these served to distract the mind
and prevent its dwelling on thoughts which brought heaviness.
Not so in the home. There a never wanting sense of loneliness
abode. The one absent in body was ever present in mind.
The danger to which he was exposed was, if possible, magnified
till the anxious soul fairly consumed itself in its ceaseless vigils.
Every report of new movements at the seat of war brought
with it the wonder whether the dear one would be endangered,
and of these contemplated movements those at home knew
vastly more than did we ourselves, who were actors in the
drama. How the papers were read! The popular newspaper
era in this country may be said to date from the days of the
war, when the correspondent learned what the people wanted
for news. Was there a battle! With what feverish haste the
paper was devoured, dreading, fearing, lest the name dearest
of all may appear among the fatalities.
A father enters the home with a copy of the New Tork Herald
in his trembling hand. The wife and mother who had watched
for his return knows that he brings sad news. The corps to
which their boy belongs they know has been designated for a
perilous task, and this paper tells the story of the fight and of
the casualties. The father can not trust himself to speak, but

366 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
he points to one name among the missing, and then betakes
himself to his closet for prayer, his refuge in every hour of dis
tress. The mother reads the name of her first born as not
accounted for, and what boots all the rest? Patriot though she
is to her heart's core, she can not help the question, "Is the
purchase worth the price?" With what diligence must she
pursue her household duties to prevent the weight of her ca
lamity crushing her. Anon, she searches for the father, and
finds him with his Bible in hand looking for comforting pas
sages. His hands tremble as he turns the leaves of the well-read
book, and here and there he finds words that to him afford
comfort. He has preached from these to many a congregation
when their dead were brought home to them, and now he must
face the dread possibility. Will his faith shrink? I think
not. Through those eyes a long line of patriotic ancestry is
looking, and though the sacrifice were thrice as great there
would be no faltering with him. But such tests bring their
inevitable results in premature age. Many a boy left his par
ents with not a token of advancing years visible in them, and
after a few months' absence returned to find wrinkles and gray
hairs making sad inroads on his parents' faces. During the fur
lough following my imprisonment, it was my pleasure to sit
at the table of certain aged relatives who had for sundry rea
sons always possessed an unusual regard for me. Said the
gentleman, "We have never sat at this board, during all the
months of your being with the rebels, without wishing you
might have some of the food before us; and we have never
knelt at the family altar without bearing you in our prayers
to the throne of the Heavenly Grace." Behind the most of us,
who imperiled health and life, there were just such prayers
constantly ascending, and whatever our own lives, we were not
sorry that this praying contingent was ceaseless in its activity.
Our battling was that home in the broadest and deepest
sense might exist in all this fair land; that no nominal owner
might separate the father from his children, a wife from her
husband. Our fight was a winning one, and with the end of
our fighting was the end of the glaring and flaunting lie that
one man could hold and enslave his fellow man. Henceforth
the flag that we had followed was to float over a race of free
men, free to come and go, free to make and hold, what I have
tried to picture here, a Home.

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VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 367
CHAPTER XXVII.
Veteran Association of the Ninth Heavy Artillery.
For more than twenty-five years annual gatherings of the
survivors of the regiment have been had. It is claimed that the
association had its birth in a camp pitched at Briscoe's Cove,
on the southern shore of Great Sodus bay, August 26, 27 and 28,
1874. ! '
This meeting had been decided upon at a preliminary run-
together of certain veterans of the regiment held in Lyons
March 4th, 1874. Of this preparatory meeting Lieutenant L.
C. Comstock of Auburn was the secretary.
The camp itself was a great success, and is to this day referred
to as a time to be remembered. So successful was it that an
enlargement of its scope was determined upon, and the Wayne
and Cayuga Veterans' Association was formed, which for many
years held its assemblies on the shores of the bay. It is not too
much to state that no similar gatherings in the Empire State
have been more successful than those drawn to this beautiful
portion of New York. They have commanded speakers from
all parts of the country, and have grown to be affairs looked
forward to at each recurring summer.
The reunions of the Ninth became a small part of the day's
doings, and were held at some designated hour in an assigned
tent, the same course being observed with other regiments
from this section of the state. While the passing hour was de
lightful, it did not quite measure up to what the veterans
thought the occasion demanded, and each year there was a de
mand for a reunion elsewhere where the regiment should be
the chief consideration, and this desired end eventually came
about. Records are preserved of the gathering in the tent at the
county camp of 1888, more or less full. In that year Captain
George W. Brinkerhoff of Company A presided, and J. S. Roys
of D Company was secretary. Remarks were made by Captain
Chauncey Fish of B; G. D. Fox of A; Lieutenant C. D. Lent
of H; L. B. Rice of B; Lieutenant Lewis Barton of D; A. S.
Roe of A; H. P. Howard of H; Frank Tallman of E; Thomas
Hilliard of D, and others. Officers for the ensuing year in
cluded: President, Lieutenant C. D. Lent of Wallington, and

368 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Secretary, J. S. Roys of Lyons. This meeting was held August
14, at 4 P. M.
In 1889 the meeting came August 15, at 4 P. M., with the
officers elected the preceding year. Those elected for 1890 were
B. L. Avery of Auburn, president, and Frank Tallman, also of
Auburn, secretary. Interesting addresses were made by Chap
lain S. T. Devoe, L. B. Rice, Captain Fish, and others. The
drift of sentiment was decidedly in favor of a reunion on some
autumnal day where the regiment might have the time to itself.
In accordance with the expressed wish, the next gathering of
the regiment was in Auburn, and the list of annual gatherings
was begun, kept up regularly, except in 1892. The date was very
fittingly the 19th of October, the 25th anniversary of the regi
ment's greatest battle. An address of welcome was given by
General William H. Seward, which has been highly prized in
the intervening years, it having been printed by vote of the
survivors present. The officers elected at the summer gather
ing held over.
In 1890, October 17th, in the armory of Auburn, the veterans
gathered again, and were welcomed by Mayor Wheeler, and
were responded for by General Seward. The Rev. Reuben Bur
ton, former lieutenant in Company B, gave the address. Col
onel Anson S. Wood was elected president, and Frank Tallman
was continued as secretary, an office which he has continued to
fill to date. There is little doubt that the success of the asso
ciation is due in no small degree to his unflagging zeal in trying
to reach all surviving members of the regiment. Those who
cherish the memories of their service in war-times owe very
much to him. '
October 20th, 1891, saw the reunion held in Lyons, Wayne
county, and was presided over by President A. S. Wood, who
was re-elected for the following year. On account of the G. A.
R. encampment in Washington the coming year, it was decided
to skip the annual meeting, though a very large number of
the veterans came together in the Capital.
In 1893, October 19th, again the men came to Lyons for their
annual handshake and story-telling. They elected John Kevand
of Weedsport president, and named his home-town as the next
place of meeting.
At the Weedsport meeting, October 19th, 1894, the subject of
a history of the regiment was considered, and it was voted to

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 369
invite Alfred S. Roe of Worcester, Mass., formerly of A Com
pany, to prepare such history, he having on this occasion read
an account of the regiment's part in the Battle of Monocacy.
Colonel Anson S. Wood was elected president, and Clyde was
assigned as place of meeting.
The Clyde gathering, October 18th, 1895, was large and en
thusiastic, with addresses from the president, Hon. Charles T.
Saxton, and others. Major George W. Brinkerhoff was chosen
president, with Wolcott as the next assembly place.
Wolcott people did themselves proud in their reception, and
congratulatory remarks were made by different speakers, civil .
and military. The date was September 17th, 1896, pretty near
the Winchester date, but not quite. It was voted to meet in
Buffalo Aug. 24th, on account of the G. A. R. encampment
there in 1897. H. W. Vishion of Company M, a resident of
Buffalo, was made president.
The Buffalo assembly drew together men who had not
before gathered at the reunions, along with the many who
are always on hand. Though way beyond the precincts
specially devoted to the Ninth, the meeting was an excellent
one. W. V. Walker, Company L, was elected president, and
Moravia, his home, was nominated for the next reunion.
The day selected for 1898 was September 16th, and the clans
repaired to the good old Cayuga village with its quaint Ger
man name. All enjoyed the trip and made A. W. Vanderbilt
of Newark, Wayne county, the coming president, and named
his village as the place, the date to be October 19th, 1899, and
with the permission of Providence the gathering will take place
at that time and place.
Secretary Tallman, with his accustomed care, has retained
the number of those attending the reunions, and the following
is the statement: 1889, 313; 1890, 225; 1891, 164; 1893, 207;
1894, 218; 1895, 254; 1896, 210; 1897, 287; 1898, 143. The time
is rapidly approaching when the attendance must fall off meas
urably, for many are nearing an age when distance does not
lend enchantment.
The democratic character of the assemblies has given them a
great popularity. The women friends of the veterans are al
ways welcomed, and they are among the most interested listen
ers of the proceedings, which are usually of a reminiscent char
acter. The citizens of the towns where the reunions are held
24

370 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
have, as a rule, thrown open their homes and hearts and given
the warmest reception possible. To the younger and rising
generation these gatherings have been excellent object lessons,
keeping fresh in mind the sacrifices made that they might enjoy
the blessings of liberty.
When the line is formed and the old "boys" with whitening
locks and aging forms follow their drummers of long ago, it is
a sight to arouse the admiration and emulation of younger men,
and who can tell how wide-reaching the lesson may be? Usu
ally, General Seward is present, and he leads his men as he did
of old, though no one bears a weapon heavier than a cane.
As far as known the following list includes the names of all surviv
ing members of the regiment with their post office addresses.
field officers.
Brigadier General William H. Seward, Auburn, N. Y.
Colonel James W. Snyder, Guthrie, Oklahoma.
Brevet Lieutenant Colonel William Wood, Westbury, N. Y.
Brevet Lieutenant Colonel Anson S. Wood, Wolcott, N. Y.
Brevet Lieutenant Colonel Sullivan B. Lamoreaux, Cleveland,
Ohio.
Major William Riley Wasson, Dublin, Texas.
Surgeon Dwight S. Chamberlain, Lyons, N. Y.
Assistant Surgeon Byron Dewitt, Oswego, N. Y.
Quartermaster Henry P. Knowles, Palmyra, N. Y.
Quartermaster John W. Rice, Auburn, N. Y.
Adjutant W. DeW. Pringle, Hastings, Minn.
Adjutant Vincent A. Kenyon, Dresserville, N. Y.
Chaplain Stephen T. Devoe, Wolcott, N. Y.
Sergeant Major John E. Dean, Newark, Ohio.
Hospital Steward John F. Failing, Grand Rapids, Mich.
COMPANY A.
Allen, G. W., Callispell, Montana.
Arne, William, Alpena, South Dakota.
Ayler, Jacob, Corning, N. Y.
Bancroft, Samuel E., Westbury, N. Y.
Barber, William, Red Creek, N. Y.
Barber, George, Red Creek, N. Y.
Barnett, Harrison, Early Bird, Florida.
Becker, Jeremiah, Quincy, Mich.
Bigelow, N. V., North Wolcott, N. Y.
Billings, John, Sodus Point, N. Y.
Blanchard, C. W., Victory, N. Y.
Brinkerhoff, Capt. G. W., Red Creek, N. Y.
Brown, G., Alton, N. Y.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 371
Bull, A. H., Warren, Ohio.
Bull, Henry, North Huron, N. Y.
Carnes, Edward L., Battle Creek, Mich.
Carter, George, King's Ferry, N. Y.
Casterline, J. B., Wautoma, Wis.
Conklin, Lieut. Benson, Bay City, Mich.
Cortright, Chester, Red Creek, N. Y.
DeMott, Lewis, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Derby, Albert, Akron, Colo.
Dudley, Henry, Syracuse, N. Y.
Dyer, David H, Watervliet, N. Y.
Easton, Charles, Grand Rapids, Mich.
Easton, David, S. & S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Elmendorf, Lieut. J. C, Weedsport, N. Y.
Elmer, Jno. E., Fair Haven, N. Y.
Fields, N. J., North Wolcott, N. Y.
Fitch, Cyrus E., Wolcott, N. Y.
Foster, John, 23 Elm street, Rochester, N. Y.
Fox, G. D., East Bloomfield, N. Yj
Frost, Oscar, Red Greek, N. Y.
Gibbs, William, Wolcott, N. Y.
Green, Luther, Westbury, N. Y.
Hall, A. F., Savannah, N. Y.
Hall, A. S., Savannah, N. Y. i
Harvey, Lieut. T., S., 216 Seymour street, Auburn, N. Y.
Higgins, Charles, Montezuma, N. Y.
Hoff, Lieut. J. R., Milwaukee, Wis. i
Hoffman, W. P., West Somerset, N. Y.
Humphrey, Enos, Fair Haven, N. Y.
Hyde, Capt. James H, Wolcott, N. Y.
Johnson, Morris, Saranac, Mich.
King, George, Fair Haven, N. Y.
Koon, Alonzo, Westbury, N. Y.
McDougall, D., Fair Haven, N. Y.
Mc Wiggin, P., North Wolcott, N. Y.
Mead, Joseph H., Wolcott, N. Y.
Merrill, James A., Wolcott, N. Y.
Merrill, W. H., Wolcott, N. Y.
Mitchell, William, Macedon, N. Y.
Moore, George C, 210 West Henry street, Elmira, N. Y.
Neal, Jonathan, Fair Haven, N. Y.
Nichols, M. B., Cazenovia, N. Y., Box 806.
Palmer, Thomas, Auburn, N. Y.
Pettingill, John, North Rose, N. Y.
Pettit, Martin D., Lummisville, N. Y.
Porter, L., Alton, N. Y.
Rawson, Charles, Germania, Pa.
Riggs, Henry, North Rose, N. Y.
Rhinehart, W. H., North Wolcott, N. Y.

372 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Roe, Alfred S., Worcester, Mass.
Sampson, E. F., Red Creek, N. Y.
Shaft, Milton, Martville, N. Y.
Sherman, Charles H., College Mound, Mo.
Snow, Samuel, North Wolcott, N. Y.
Sprague, A. I., Weedsport, N. Y.
Stinard, A. L., Geneva, Mich.
Streeter, Melvin, North Huron, N. Y.
Thomas, Philip, Huron, N. Y.
Townsend, David, Denver, Colo.
Tripp, M. F., Salamanca, N. Y.
Ullrich, Charles, Wolcott, N. Y.
Vanderburg, James, Lummisville, N. Y.
Van Horn, John, North Wolcott, N. Y.
Van Ostrand, C. S., Newark, N. Y.
Watkins, Carlton, Onondaga Valley, N. Y.
Welch, W. A., Oto, Woodbury county, Iowa.
Wendover, James, Port Byron, N. Y.
Whitbeck, John W., Watkins, N. Y.
COMPANY B.
This company formed a local association before that of the regiment
and has held many interesting meetings, at which valuable papers
have been read, but no data are at hand as to organization, etc.
Allen, A. H., Charlotte, Mich.
Arney, S., Fairport, N. Y.
Babbett, Francis, Pultneyville, N. Y.
Birdsall, William, Ontario, N. Y.
Bishop, E. A., 12 Manhattan street, Rochester, N. Y.
Bradley, J. H., Williamson, N. Y.
Brock, C. J., 321 West avenue, Rochester, N. Y.
Buck, James W., Campbell, N. Y.
Calhoun, D. D., Westbury, N. Y.
Carey, Orin, Ontario Centre, N. Y.
Chapman, Grosvenor E., Lansing, Mich.
Chapman, Ralph D., West Walworth, N. Y.
Clark, James E., Owen Sound, Canada.
Denney, Loren, Ontario, N. Y.
Diver, J. B., 222 C street, S. E., Washington, D. C.
Elmer, Frank M., West Walworth, N. Y.
Fenner, Nelson, 1809 Beverly street, Richmond, Va.
Foote, Harvey, Ontario, N. Y.
Fish, Capt. Chauncey, Ontario, N. Y.
Fitts, N. A., 756 Powers building, Rochester, N. Y.
Franklin, Benjamin, 20 High street, Bradford, Pa.
Franklin, Joshua, 20 High street, Bradford, Pa.
Frost, L. B., Lincoln, N. Y.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 373
Gamble, D. P., East Palmyra, N. Y.
Gilbert, G. W., Meckling, Clay county, South Dakota.
Hall, John, Lincoln, N. Y.
Hoag, Lieut. F. J., 2154 Lawrence avenue, Toledo, Ohio.
Hoag, Hiram C, West Walworth, N. Y.
Hoag, J. M., Maquoketa, Iowa.
Holtom, Frank, Furnaceville, N. Y.
King, John H., 125 Fourth street, Jackson, Mich.
Levarne, Daniel, New Haven, Vt.
McConnell, Irving, Flint, Mich.
Mack, S. R., Madison, Mich.
Mason, James O., Walworth, N. Y.
Metzgar, Dana, Cortland, N. Y.
Myers, Frederick, 2152 South 14th street, Lincoln, Neb.
Negus, John, Sodus Centre, N. Y.
Niles, E. D., 59 Lewis street, Rochester, N. Y.
O'Flynn, William H., Madoc, Ontario, Canada.
Page, Ebenezer, Brockport, N. Y.
Patterson, Lieut. C. P., Walworth, N. Y.
Peacock, Harrison F., Lincoln, N. Y.
Peacock, Oscar F., Fairport, N. Y.
Pease, C. W., 58 Reynolds street, Rochester, N. Y.
Perrin, E. B., Ontario, N. Y.
Pratt, A. J., Webster, N. Y.
Prentiss, James D., 603 China street, Richmond, Va.
Reeves, Stephen, Marion, N. Y.
Rice, Lewis B., Port Huron, Mich.
Risley, Charles M., Ontario Centre, N. Y.
Rogers, Eugene O., Lincoln, N. Y.
Rogers, William, 334 West Water street, Wichita, Kan.
Roys, Gains N., Newark, N. Y.
Russell, Elon, Lincoln, N. Y.
Sage, J., Hudson, Mich.
Sanders, Eugene, Webster, N. Y.
Shipman, John, Farmington Hill, Pa.
Smith, A. L., 6th Auditor's office, Washington, D. C.
Smith, Jarvis L., Williamson, N. Y.
Smith, Morris M., Phillipsburg, Kan.
Speller, J. W., Ontario Centre, N. Y.
Stanford, D. J., Ontario, N. Y.
Strickland, Thomas A., Charlotte street, Rochester, N. Y.
Terwilliger, Albert E., Clayton, Mich.
Tucker, E. B., Monona, Iowa.
Vandewarker, Abiel, Union Hill, N. Y.
Vandewarker, Samuel, Union Hill, N. Y.
Warren, Charles, Honeoye Falls, N. Y.
Warren, Edwin, Lima, N. Y.
White, A. T., Macedon, N. Y.
Whitmer, John, Fairville, N. Y.
Woodhams, Henry, Union Hill, N. Y.

374 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
COMPANY C.
Bates, Oliver, Gains, Pa.
Betts, Robert D., Auburn, N. Y.
Bills, S. L., Macedon, N. Y.
Blakeman, Hiram, Emerson, N. Y.
Blass, Michael, Conquest, N. Y.
Blass, Walter, Spring Lake, N. Y.
Brooks, Willam G., Nashville, Mich.
Burke, Giles O., Jordan, N. Y.
Burke, Capt. Marshall, Paw Paw, Mich.
Chapel, Lieut. George E., Grand Rapids, Mich.
Chapman, A. G., Westbury, N. Y.
Clark, George P., Moravia, N. Y.
Colborn, John F-, Syracuse, N. Y.
Crounse, David, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Crounse, David J., Meadowdale, Albany county, N. Y.
Crounse, Jacob, Conquest, N. Y.
Demass, Martin, Ionia, Mich.
Donnelly, John, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Edminster, David, Weedsport, N. Y.
Fuller, Henry, Spring Lake, N. Y.
Fuller, William, Jordan, N. Y.
Garity, Frank, Spring Lake, N. Y.
Hooker, F. E., Palmyra, N. Y.
Hunt, Ralph, 1221 Lee street, South Evanston, 111.
Hunter, Irving, Jordan, N. Y.
Isler, Benjamin, Macedon, N. Y.
James, Job, Onondaga Hill, N. Y.
Kilmer, George, New Hope, N. Y.
Knapp, Lieut. J. D., Cato, N. Y.
Lamphear, Franklin E., Waterloo, N. Y.
Lockwood, William Henry, Weedsport, N. Y.
McGuire, Frank, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Mclntyre, Lieut. W. H, St. Paul, Minn.
McNulty, Lieut. M., Onondaga Hill, N. Y.
Meade, Jacob, Southwest Oswego, N. Y.
Miller, Austin, Spring Lake, N. Y.
Miller, Peter, 120 Whitney street, Rochester, N. Y.
Morrison, Isaac, Marion, N. Y.
Pierce, W. W., Seward, Neb.
Putnam, Jacob J., Hannibal, N. Y.
Skinner, Jerry, Jordan, N. Y.
Sly, William S., Fredonia, N. Y.
Smith, Wellington, Macedon, N. Y.
Spinning, William M., Jordan, N. Y.
Stevenson, David, Ola, Gratiot county, Mich.
Strickland, Leander, Meridian, N. Y.
Tifft, Lieut. James W., 40 Tracey street, Buffalo, N. Y.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 375
Vandervoort, Martin L., Kirby, Monroe county, Wis.
Westfall, S. J., 99 Franklin street, Auburn, N. Y.
COMPANY D.
Baker, H. T., 63 Richard street, Rochester, N. Y.
Barton, Lieut. Lewis, Grand Ledge, Mich.
Berkley, Frederick, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Bourne, Joseph, Lyons, N. Y.
Boyst, John, Lyons, N. Y.
Bremer, William, Clyde, N. Y.
Brown, B., Lyons, N. Y.
Brundage, Samuel, Sodus, N. Y.
Bullock, Nathan, Alton, N. Y.
Burns, George E., Alton, N. Y.
Button, Elliott H., 734 East Adams street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Clark, D. C, Wayne, Schuyler county, N. Y.
Comstock, John L., Sac City, Iowa.
Darling, Martin, Wolcott, N. Y.
Dunbar, Lee, Lummisville, N. Y.
Dunn, Homer C, Lyons, N. Y.
Dunning, E. P., Forestville, Chautauqua county, N. Y.
Ehart, Michael, 17 Cleveland street, Rochester, N. Y.
Finch, Jno T., Newark, N. Y.
Genthner, Jacob F., 27 Conkey avenue, Rochester, N. Y.
Gunther, Charles, Lockport, N. Y.
Hall, C. K., Baldwinsville, N. Y.
Hall, Hamilton, Wolcott, N. Y.
Hanna, James P., 437 William street, Buffalo, N. Y.
Hart, John W., Lyons, N. Y.
Hasselback, Simon, Lyons, N. Y.
Heck, William, Lummisville, N. Y.
Hoeltzel, George, Newark, N. Y.
Hoffman, Lieut. B. F., Johnson's Creek, N. Y.
Houghkerk, Silas, 87 Spring street, Albany, N. Y.
Knox, Charles, Alton, N. Y.
Kurtz, Andrew, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Leroy, Isaac, Fairville, N. Y.
Lyon, Capt. C. L., 654 Bedford avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y.
McDowell, Charles, Alton, N. Y.
McDowell, David, Alton, N. Y.
Munn, Hiram, Ames, Iowa.
Newberry, Eben W., Wolcott, N. Y.
Parrish, Norman A., Lyons, N. Y.
Pflug, Jacob, Exeter, Neb.
Pomeroy, G. P., Chittenango, N. Y.
Pudney, Richard, Lyons, N. Y.
Redgrave, Lieut. S. C, Lyons, N. Y.
Rooker, George, Lyons, N. Y.

376

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Roys, J. Sidney, Lyons, N. Y.
Scott, Cornelius, Grand Rapids, Mich.
Seager, A. W., Wayne Centre, N. Y.
Seager, Benjamin, Alton, N. Y.
Shane, Pearse, 1017 Lodi street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Siebert, George, Kalamazoo, Mich.
Snitzel, John, Orleans, N. Y.
Snyder, J. L., Joy, N. Y.
Spahr, Casper, Rochester, N. Y.
Stell, Fred, Fairville, N. Y.
Stewart, Capt. J. F., Hannibal, Mo.
Taylor, Henry, Newark, N. Y.
Taylor, James K., Port Byron, N. Y.
Travers, William, 74 109th street, New York city.
Vanderbilt, A. H., Newark, N. Y.
Vickery, J, W., 180 Market street, Chicago, 111.
Walmsley, Albert, Wolcott, N. Y.
Warn, Charles S., Copac, St. Clair county, Mich.
Williams, J. L., Sherrill, N. Y.
Williams, Lieut. L. D., Otsego, Mich.
Wilson, Thomas, Oneida, N. Y.
Worden, John V., Clyde, N. Y.
York, Thomas, Lyons, N. Y.
Zwilling, William, Lyons, N. Y.
COMPANY E.
Arnold, Benjamin A., East Venice, N. Y.
Austin, A. P., North Tonawanda, N. Y.
Baker, George, Scipio, N. Y.
Barnes, Lieut. B. F., Moravia, N. Y.
Bassett, Joseph, Skaneateles, N. Y.
Bassett, Thomas, Owasco, N. Y.
Benson, Stephen H, 509 First avenue, Lansingburg, N. Y.
Bradley, Schuyler, Lyons, Ohio.
Breed, Chauncey, Farwell, Mich.
Breed, Frank F., Flint, Mich.
Breed, George, Genoa, N. Y.
Brewster, James H., Wolcott, N. Y.
Bronson, F. O., Osage, Iowa.
Brown, Dwight, Locke, N. Y.
Brown, E. J., Moravia, N. Y.
Buckley, Benjamin, Rowley, Iowa.
Bush, Julius, Atlantic Highlands, N. J.
Cannon, Edwin J., Ithaca, N. Y.
Cater, Charles, Weedsport, N. Y.
Chaffee, James, 301 Otisco street, Syracuse, N. Y.
demons, L. E., Junction City, Kan.
demons, R. R., Manhattan, Kan.

SECRETARY FRANK TALLMAN,
9th N. Y. H. A. Veteran Association.
Company E.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 377
Cobb, Alton E., 604 Court street, Scranton, Pa.
Corlies, Charles M., McLeansboro, 111.
Covey, Edwin, 518 Clay street, Portland, Ore.
Crowfoot, Charles F., Venice Centre, N. Y.
Culver, Francis, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Defendorf, Edwin, Niles, N. Y.
Dennis, Dan. D., Canisteo, N. Y.
Dodd, Elias, Genoa, N. Y.
Dolson, C, Olean, N. Y.
Eaton, Augustus, Sempronius, N. Y.
Evans, W. H., 74 Walnut street, Auburn, N. Y.
Finney, F. H., Orange City, Fla.
Flynn, Francis, Merrifield, N. Y.
Forman, Amos, Sterling, N. Y.
Foster, John, Berkshire, N. Y.
Foster, S. M., Dryden, N. Y.
Green, A. M., Hart Lot, N. Y.
Hardy, George H., Canisteo, N. Y.
Hardy, S. B., Jasper, N. Y.
Hardy, William, Eden Valley, Minn.
Hough, Lieut. C. W., Batavia, N. Y.
Huff, Edgar D., Little Valley, N. Y.
Hutchinson, Alpheus, Moravia, N. Y.
Hutchinson, John, Venice Center, N. Y.
Jacquett, Sergt. William, Fleming, N. Y.
Jones, Amos S., St. Johns, Mich.
Keech, Isaac E., Hartford, N. Y. i
Landin, Henry, South Butler, N. Y.
Lansdown, John, Apulia, N. Y.
Lavin, Patrick, Venice, N. Y.
Leavenworth, Henry, Newark, West Va. '
Lee, Charles H, 2939 9th avenue south, Minneapolis, Minn.
Lee, John, 123 Brighton avenue, Syracuse, N. Y.
Leonard, Elijah T., Irvington, N. J.
Lewis, Stephen, 613 Jackson street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Litchard, A. W., Rushford, N. Y.
Lyons, John, Fosterville, N. Y.
Marshall, William, Skaneateles, N. Y.
Morehouse, Anson, Fenton, Mich.
Myers, Horace, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Neff, Alex., Hartford, N. Y.
Niles, Delos, Genoa, N. Y.
Osier, David, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Parker, H. H., Oramel, N. Y.
Pickens, Warren, Waterloo, N. Y.
Richardson, H. H, Wolcott, N. Y.
Rogers, Adelbert, Sempronius, N. Y.
Royce, Frank, Diamond, Alameda county, Cal.
Ryckman, David, Newark, N. Y.

378 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Scott, Wesley, Fleming, N. Y.
Seeley, Seth M., Onondaga Hill, N. Y. <
Shevalier, John, Hartford, N. Y.
Shorkley, Pardon T., Merrifield, N. Y.
Smith, Frank, Cortland, N. Y.
Suddick, Richard, Olean, N. Y.
Swift, Lieut. Seth F., 38 Franklin street, Auburn, N. Y.
Tallman, Frank, 9£ State street, Auburn, N. Y.
Tallman, Fred A., 120 South Salina street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Tallman, Thomas C, Scipio Centre, N. Y.
Tanner, George, Niles, N. Y.
Tibbetts, George, Venice, N. Y.
Tifft, Capt. John, South Lansing, N. Y.
Van Liew, John, Mapleton, N. Y.
Waldron, David, Skaneateles, N. Y.
Warwick, Robert, Fleming, N. Y.
Wheeler, Lieut. Hiland H, 1517 H street, Lincoln, Neb.
White, George A., Table Rock, Neb.
Woodmansee, Nathan, Ann Arbor, Mich.
Wyckoff, Henry G., Niles, N. Y.
COMPANY F.
Allen, Titus, Catlin street, Auburn, N. Y.
Alfreds, Henry, Port Byron, N. Y.
Allen, Henry, Treasury building, Washington, D. C.
Barnard, F. D., Weedsport, N. Y.
Blake, Jacob, Lodi and Catherine streets, Syracuse, N. Y.
Bostler, Conrad, Weedsport, N. Y.
Catlin, S. B., 44 Capitol street, Auburn, N. Y.
Chase, Horace, Skaneateles, N. Y.
Close, Charles, Moravia, N. Y.
Crumb, A. S., DeRuyter, N. Y.
Darrow, Peter E., Niles, N. Y.
Dewitt, Henry, Niles, N. Y. i
Doyle, James, 8 Paul street, Auburn, N. Y.
Duvall, A. J., East Campbell, N. Y.
Elliott, Nathan, Jr., Port Byron, N. Y.
Fraye, J. F., Homer, N. Y.
Gifford, Harrison, Athens, Pa.
Gillett, Edson D., Skaneateles, N. Y.
Greenfield, Charles, Niles, N. Y.
Hacker, George H., 40 Fulton street, Auburn, N. Y.
Hargan, Charles, Lake Ridge, N. Y.
Horton, F. M., North Lansing, Mich.
Hudson, Pitts O., Bay City, Mich.
Hunt, Fred, Auburn, N. Y.
Hyde, Norman B., Wellsboro, Pa.
Johnson, Nelson R., 93 Andrews street, Rochester, N. Y.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 379
Jones, Charles E., Clyde, N. Y.
Lane, John J., 50 Capitol street, Auburn, N. Y.
Lobdell, Jonathan, Lansingville, N. Y.
Long, Alpheus K., Pocomoke City, Md.
Lowe, John F., Genoa, N. Y.
Marsh, G. W., Port Byron, N. Y.
Miller, Charles H., Dansville, Mich.
Myers, W. H., Ludlowville, N. Y.
Newton, Albert D., South Otselic, N. Y.
North, Rev. C. J., New Haven, Conn.
Northrup, M. V. B., Georgetown, N. Y.
Osborn, Horace, 59 Reynolds Arcade, Rochester, N. Y.
Pitcher, David, Coldwater, Mich.
Pitcher, Lewis W., 2725 Prairie avenue, Chicago, 111.
Porter, James A., Clifton Springs, N. Y.
Pym, Joseph, Lynden, Wash.
Remington, W. B., Painted Post, N. Y.
Rynders, Charles, Poplar Ridge, N. Y.
Sincerbaux, Edward, Moravia, N. Y.
Sincerbaux, Ira, Prairie Farm, Barron county, Wis.
Sincerbaux, Leonard, Groton, N. Y.
Shergur, Rev. C. L., Caton, N. Y.
Smith, R. A., Cato, N. Y.
Stearns, G. H., Watkins, Halifax county, Va.
Steih, Daniel, Dalton, N. Y.
Stout, Wilmer, Lansingville, N. Y.
Swart, Alex., Port Byron, N. Y. i
Swift, Lieut. George, Stockton, Cal.
Taylor, George W., Otsego, Mich.
Teeter, Benjamin, Peruville, N. Y.
Teeter, Ed, West Dryden, N. Y.
Turner, W. H, Myers, N. Y.
Tuttle, Frank J., Pitcher, Chenango county, N. Y.
Ware, Clarence, Port Byron, N. Y.
Weaver, Melvin, Moravia, N. Y.
White, Rev. Elisha, Mottville, N. Y.
Wilcox, Edward, 305 Taylor street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Wilson, Nelson, Cameron Mills, N. Y.
Wolcott, George W., 43 Maple avenue, Cortland, N. Y.
COMPANY G.
Adams, James E., Montgomery, Kane county, 111.
Allpaugh, William, Susquehanna, Pa.
Bachman, James M., S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Baggerly, Peter, Clyde, N. Y.
Barber, Perry S., S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Barker, Charles, Charlotte, N. Y.
Barnes, Abram, Rose, N. Y.

380 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Bell, Alfred J., S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Billhardt, Charles, 111 West Mohawk street, Oswego, N. Y.
Billhardt, Edward, 111 West Mohawk street, Oswego, N. Y.
Blaisdell, William L., Martville, N. Y
Boyd, James, Wolcott, N. Y.
Calkins, Ensign, Jamestown, North Dakota,
Calkins, W., Hastings, Mich.
Calkins, John, McCook, Neb.
Carrier, A. A., 125 Davis street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Carroll, Lawrence, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Carter, Jabez, Jr., Fair Haven, N. Y.
Carter, William, Ashland Centre, Mich.
Castler, Marcus B., Chittenango, N. Y.
Chaddock, Lieut. T. J., North Rose, N. Y.
Clapp, Cassius M., Huron, N. Y.
Clark, Timothy, Hannibalville, N. Y.
Culliford, Eugene, Wolcott, N. Y.
Curran, Jacob, Spring Lake, N. Y.
Dean, Theodore S., North Wolcott, N. Y.
Depew, John, North Wolcott, N. Y.
Devoe, J. H., Harvey, 111.
Duell, L. P., Marion, N. Y.
Dunbar, Dorus, Lock Berlin, N. Y.
Duncan, Charles, Mantua, Ohio.
Eygnor, Abram, North Wolcott, N. Y.
Fleming, Ebenezer, Rockford, 111.
Fowler, Merritt F., Wolcott, N. Y.
Gibson, Alex., Lummisville, N. Y.
Grant, Willis, Wolcott, N. Y.
Green, Rush, Chelsea, Mich.
Haven, James, Hannibalville, N. Y.
Henry, William, Wolcott, N. Y.
Hodge, Alex., S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Hoffman, Edwin M., Appleton, N. Y.
Home, William, Sodus, N. Y.
Johnson, David, Rose, N. Y.
Knapp, Isaac, Indianapolis, Ind.
Langley, Samuel W., Rose, N. Y.
Lovejoy, Daniel, Marion, N. Y.
Loveless, George, Wolcott, N. Y.
Madelong, Theodore, Oswego, N. Y.
Marshall, Lieut. Arthur W., Moravia, N. Y.
Marvin, James H., Fair Haven, N. Y.
Mead, Dwight, South Butler, N. Y.
McClay, James H, West Somerset, N. Y.
McMaster, Lieut. J. S., Homer, N. Y.
Merrill, J. H., Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Miller, Samuel D., Spencer, N. Y.
Morey, Horace, North Rose, N. Y.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION.

381

Munson, Charles H., 813 Lenawee street, Lansing, Mich.
Niles, Theodore H., Johnson's Creek, N. Y.
Pierson, F. R., South Butler, N. Y.
Plank, Franklin, Pipestone, Minn.
Pritchard, John, Butler Centre, N. Y.
Raze, B. Frank, 216 State street, Albany, N. Y.
Rhodes, Charles C, 356 South Salina street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Rhodes, Capt. H. J., 122 Van Anden street, Auburn, N. Y.
Rogers, Patrick, Seneca Falls, N. Y. ,
Sanford, C. H, Marion, N. Y.
Scott, Irving, North Wolcott, N. Y.
Silliman, Hiram, Wolcott, N. Y.
Silliman, Robert, Wolcott, N. Y.
Stern, Lieut. Henry, 216 Glenwood avenue, Buffalo, N. Y.
Thomas, David H, 330 Seymour street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Thompson, William W., Hannibal, N. Y.
Towlerton, James, Newark, N. Y.
Tracey, Calvin B., Weedsport, N. Y.
Tracey, Roswell, North Rose, N. Y.
Waldron, Harvey M., Red Creek, N. Y.
Wiggins, William, Red Creek, N. Y.
Winters, Charles, Lyons, N. Y.
Wolvin, Abram, Wolcott, N. Y.
Wolvin, Robert, Wolcott, N. Y.
Wood, Abram L., Clyde, N. Y.
Wood, C. E., Clyde, N. Y.
Woodruff, Frank M., 125 Bacon street, Syracuse, N. Y.
COMPANY H.
Allbright, John H, Harlemville, N. Y.
Angus, Elijah, Wolcott, N. Y.
Angus, Gilbert, Clyde, N. Y.
Earless, Romain C, Rose, N. Y.
Birdsall, Isaac M., 53 Clifton street, Rochester, N. Y.
Boynton, J. C, Wolcott, N. Y.
Brown, Carlos, Clyde, N. Y.
Burton, Lieut. Reuben, 212 Grace street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Collins, Leonard, Clyde, N. Y.
Colvin, Lieut. Sidney T., Lake View, Lake county, Ore.
Coombs, William H, San Angelo, Texas.
Duell, Albert E., 404 New Jersey avenue, Washington, D. C.
Dunham, A. J., Clyde, N. Y.
Forgar, Oscar, Liverpool, N. Y.
Forncrook, J. C, Fort Scott, Kan.
Garratt, Richard, Wolcott, N. Y.
Gillette, A. H, Clyde, N. Y.
Gridley, C. L., Waterloo, N. Y.
Gridley, Edward, Clyde, N. Y.
Groesbeck, Charles S., Clyde, N. Y.

382 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Hallett, Horace B., Clyde, N. Y.
Handley, Henry, South Butler, N. Y.
Harmon, Alfred, Palmyra, N. Y.
Harper, Alex., Rose, N. Y.
Hendrick, David, Fulton, N. Y.
Hendrix, Peter, Bridgman, Mich.
Hickok, W. F., Rose, N. Y.
Hilts, Peter, Rose, N. Y.
Hopkins, Almon, North Rose, N. Y.
Howard, H. P., Rose, N. Y.
Jeffrey, Thomas W., Mexico, N. Y.
Kellogg, E. B., Wolcott, N. Y.
Knight, T. C, Elbridge, N. Y.
Lee, Charles A., Beardtown, 111.
Lent, Lieut. C. D., Wallington, N. Y.
Mabb, John, Sodus Point, N. Y.
McGrain, Charles, Pultney, Steuben county, N. Y.
McGuire, James, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Marsh, Cornelius, Rose, N. Y.
Marsh, Henry, Middleville, Mich.
Menanson, Joseph, Lyons, N. Y.
Miller, C. H., Liverpool, N. Y.
Peck, E. J., Wolcott, N. Y.
Pettys, Charles V., 1822 12th street, N. W., Washington, D. C.
Pettys, Lucius, Savannah, N. Y.
Pimm, Enos T., Rose, N. Y.
Pitcher, George A., Nunda, N. Y.
Potts, Clark, Clyde, N. Y.
Poutrie, Dennis, Syracuse, N. Y.
Powers, Edwin, Sioux Rapids, Iowa.
Race, James, Clyde, N. Y.
Sabin, George G, 104 Main street, Watertown, N. Y.
Sager, Jacob, Clyde, N. Y.
Seelye, Irwin, North Rose, N. Y.
Seelye, J. J., Rose, N. Y.
Sloan, Alfred J., Clyde, N. Y.
Soule, Ira, Rose, N. Y.
Soule, Ira T., Rose, N. Y.
Stewart, Samuel, Wolcott, N. Y.
Stickles, Robert, Clyde, N. Y.
Taylor, Hiram, Wolcott, N. Y.
Toepper, John G., 429 G street, N. W., Washington, D. C.
Torrey, Addison, 267 Walton avenue, Cleveland, Ohio.
Turner, Edward, Port Byron, N. Y.
Vanderburg, John W., 1113 Walnut street, Des Moines, Iowa.
Vanderpool, Isaac, Wolcott, N. Y.
Vermilyea, A. J., Alton, N. Y.
Vosburg, Lieut. Tunis, Mexico, Pa.
Wadley, Martin, Clyde, N. Y.

2D LIEUT. S. F. HARRIS,
Company I.
Later, 1st Lieutenant.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 383
Waite, Stephen M., Rose, N. Y.
Williams, Jacob, Wolcott, N. Y.
COMPANY I.
Anthony, George, Throopsville, N. Y.
Becker, Lieut. D. D., Red Creek, N. Y.
Blauvelt, James R., Port Byron, N. Y.
Blauvelt, Peter P., Fosterville, N. Y.
Blodgett, Charles, 9 MacMaster street, Auburn, N. Y.
Blowers, John L., Axtel, Erie county, Ohio.
Bowen, Alonzo, Monroe, Mich.
Brightmire, John, Seeley Creek, N. Y.
Bulkley, Andrew J., 22 Sheridan street, Auburn, N. Y.
Burch, Jno H., Dryden, LaPeer county, Mich.
Comstock, Lieut. L. C, Chicago, 111.
Doyle, James, Auburn, N. Y.
Elson, Henry, 5 Culver park, Rochester, N. Y.
Fend, John, Winona, Minn.
Frye, Moses M., 167 Genesee street, Auburn, N. Y.
Godden, Stephen, 10 Case avenue, Auburn, N. Y.
Graham, James, 300 Boyden street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Haley, Andrew, 221 Seymour street, Auburn, N. Y.
Hall, Charles, Titusville, Pa.
Harris, Lieut. Sam F., 4| Wright avenue, Auburn, N. Y.
Hawkins, E. E., 10 Seminary avenue, Auburn, N. Y.
Higgins, Charles, Montezuma, N. Y.
Hodder, Nathaniel, 22 Easterly avenue, Auburn, N. Y.
Hyatt, Frank, Auburn, N. Y.
Jones, John L., 1st, 4203 Ludlow street, West Philadelphia, Pa.
Jones, John L., 2d, Ledyard, N. Y.
Lynch, Morris, 126 Tenth street, Springfield, Mass. (
Manley, Thomas, 3013 Fifth avenue, Chicago, 111.
Merry, Libbeus, Fleming, N. Y.
McGrain, Lawrence, 214 Seymour street, Auburn, N. Y.
McNamara, Cornelius, State street, Auburn, N. Y.
Miles, Thomas, Union Springs, N. Y.
Monroe, Willard, Modena, Ulster county, N. Y.
Morgan, C. A., S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Murphy, James, 132 Fulton street, Auburn, N. Y.
Murphy, Michael, 77 Washington street, Auburn, N. Y.
Negus, John J., Hartford, N. Y.
Northcott, J. R., 664 Queen street, Toronto, Canada.
Oakley, Lester, Fleming, N. Y.
Oliver, O., Ledyard, N. Y.
O'Tool, Patrick, Owasco, N. Y.
Parker, Joseph, Plymouth, N. H.
Perkins, H. E., Elyria, Ohio.
Piatt, Giles, Union Springs, N. Y.

384 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Powers, Edward, Union Springs, N. Y.
Reid, David P., Auburn, N. Y.
Renahan, James, 23 Chase street, Auburn, N. Y.
Reynolds, John, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Robinson, Lieut. John D., Auburn, N. Y.
Ryan, William, 70 Walnut street, Auburn, N. Y.
Shelinburg, Peter, Owasco, N. Y.
Smith, James, Poplar Ridge, N. Y.
Smith, Johnson, 131 Erie street, Buffalo, N. Y.
Smith, Martin, Blaine, Wash.
Smith, Polhemus, Sherwood, N. Y.
Swart, James, Marionette, Wis.
Thompson, Loren, Union Springs, N. Y.
Thompson, Orsemus, Corning, N. Y.
Thompson, Oscar, King's Ferry, N. Y.
Thurlow, James H, Moravia, N. Y.
Yawger, William, Union Springs, N. Y.
Young, Edwin, Auburn, N. Y.
COMPANY K.
Albright, Levi, Lysander, N. Y.
Allen, Eli, Clyde, N. Y.
Austin, Benjamin, Hopewell Centre, N. Y.
Blake, C. R., Palmyra, N. Y.
Boudiett, J. S., Oswego, N. Y.
Bowman, W., Bad Axe, Mich.
Boyce, Peter, Clyde, N. Y.
Cain, Thomas, Clyde, N. Y.
Carpenter, George W., Lysander, N. Y.
Colligan, John, Waterloo, N. Y.
Cooper, Barringer, Eaton Rapids, Mich.
Cooper, Stephen, Battle Creek, Mich.
Crowell, Daniel, Fairport, N. Y.
Cunningham, Thomas, Palmyra, N. Y.
Curran, Patrick, 117 Benton street, Rochester, N. Y.
Donovan, James, 48 Adams street, Rochester, N. Y.
Driscoll, David, 1413 Orange street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Duckett, Benjamin, Skaneateles, N. Y.
Duckett, W. G., Pa. avenue and 22d street, Washington, D. C.
Eddy, Henry D., 416 Jackson street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Fairwsather, Thomas, Cheshire, Mass.
Footrf, Lieut. Oscar, Ira, N. Y.
Green, D. C, Wolcott, N. Y.
Groom, Volney B., Hart Lot, N. Y.
Hadcock, Dennis, North Victory, N. Y.
Hutchins, Andrew J., Clyde, N. Y.
Kevand, John, Weedsport, N. Y.
King, Andrew J., Leroy, N. Y.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 385
King, Obadiah, Cayuga street, Auburn, N. Y.
Kline, Valentine, Clyde, N. Y.
Knapp, Lieut. George P., 1402 West Twelfth street, Chicago, 111.
McDougall, W. T., Clyde, N. Y.
Moriarty, Michael, Clyde, N. Y.
Morris, Clark, Ira, N. Y.
Nichols, Alvah, St. Charles, Mich.
Norton, William L., 202 West Adams street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Peckham, G. H., Ill East First street, Oswego, N. Y.
Pettie, Edgar C, Syracuse, N. Y.
Pierce, Charles O., Ira, N. Y.
Pritchard, Allen, Clyde, N. Y.
Robinson, O. T., Amsterdam, N. Y.
Sherman, Charles, Lysander, N. Y.
Snyder, W. H, Huron, N. Y.
Southard, John, Cato, N. Y.
Spickerman, John, Ira, N. Y.
Sturge, Lieut. Philip, Weedsport, N. Y.
Teller, James E., Granite Falls, Minn.
Terpenning, Wallace, South Hannibal, N. Y.
Thomas, John C, Potterville, Mich.
Whipple, John, Bowen's Corners, N. Y.
COMPANY L.
Alpeter, George H., 567 North Salina street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Andrews, A. J., 3010 Susquehanna avenue, Philadelphia, Pa.
Babbitt, Charles L., 107 Van Buren street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Barber, A. J., Mottville, N. Y.
Buck, Daniel, Onondaga Hill, N. Y.
Carpenter, Orlando, 1504 Spring street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Carrier, Vaughn, Buffalo, N. Y.
Case, George A., Onondaga Hill, N. Y.
Clark, Charles, Weedsport, N. Y.
Cook, C, Chittenango, N. Y.
Cooper, George, Throopsville, N. Y.
Dandy, Thomas, Nunica, Mich.
Dodge, Isaac R., Spring Lake, N. Y.
Ford, Charles A., Homer, N. Y.
Fredenburg, Andrew, 117 East Genesee street, Auburn, N. Y.
Garrison, Edward, Elbridge, N. Y.
Garrison, William, 902 Aliis street, Milwaukee, Wis.
Gregson, Frank, 9 Genesee street, Auburn, N. Y.
Hollister, H. K, Rochester, N. Y.
Horton, Charles A., 140 Holland street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Howe, Capt. S. Augustus, Gardner, Mass.
Hoyt, J. L., McCook, Neb.
Hubbard, Henry, Lansing, Oswego county, N. Y.
Huntington, Lieut. E. L., Mexico, N. Y.
25

386 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Hurtubise, Stephen E., Labadie, Mo.
Jackson, Thomas, 28 Francis street, Auburn, N. Y.
Jewhurst, Capt. J. W., Youngstown, Ohio.
Jones, Milton, Lansing, Oswego county, N. Y.
June, Morris F., 532 Seymour street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Kibbie, A. M., Homer, N. Y.
Laughlin, George, Seneca Falls, N. Y.
Long, William E., Minneto, N. Y.
Mansfield, Rupert E., Charlestown, S. C.
Marion, Napoleon, Oswego, N. Y.
Marshall, George C, Five Corners, N. Y.
Martin, George, Clay's Corners, N. Y.
Mosner, Peter, 413 Sand street, Syracuse, N. Y.
Mulvey, Frank, 1 Grove avenue, Auburn, N. Y.
Murphy, Thomas, 212 State street, Auburn, N. Y.
O'Brien, Patrick, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Peraux, Peter, Oswego, N. Y.
Quick, Lieut. T. D., Garland, Pa.
Radway, Fred P., Onondaga Valley, N. Y.
Robinson, Lieut. Charles, Toledo, Ohio.
Rockfellow, Victor, Oswego, N. Y.
Sinclair, Capt. F. A., Mottville, N. Y.
Sinclair, James, Mottville, N. Y.
Sinclair, Lieut. William, Phoenix, N. Y.
Smith, John, Oswego, N. Y.
Souls, Hobart, 12 Mary street, Auburn, N. Y.
Spaulding, C. J., Hotel Brozell, Buffalo, N. Y.
Stacey, Alfred E., Elbridge, N. Y.
Stevens, E. P., Mexico, N. Y.
Stoyell, John, 1027 Lawrence street, Topeka, Kan.
Toner, John, Hillsdale, Mich.
Walker, William V., Moravia, N. Y.
Webster, A. D., Pulaski, N. Y.
Wickes, Jared, City Hall, Syracuse, N. Y.
Wilcox, Stephen, Grand Rapids, Mich.
Willis, Jno G., Oswego, N. Y.
Wilson, George H, Rockford, 111., Box 1715.
Winkworth, John, 911 Avery avenue, Syracuse, N. Y.
COMPANY M.
Abbey, Lieut. A. M., Richland, Mich.
Avery, B. L., Genoa, N. Y.
Avery, George, Alexander, N. Y.
Bartlett, Jno. W., Creston, Iowa.
Bates, George W., Lodge Pole, Neb.
Beitz, Charles L., Moravia, N. Y.
Benton, E. J., Batavia, N. Y.
Bowman, G. W., Pinkney, Mich.

VETERAN ASSOCIATION. 387
Brower, A. W., Sodus Centre, N. Y.
Butler, Frederick, Albion, N. Y.
Carmel, John, Mumford, N. Y.
Carney, James, Detroit, Mich.
Connor, John, Pavilion Centre, N. Y.
Cox, Benjamin, Bergen, N. Y.
Crittenden, Lieut. T. J., Bergen, N. Y.
Davenport, N., South Butler, N. Y.
Delano, E. C, Clyde, N. Y.
Demary, S., Attica, N. Y.
Eddy, W. A., Morley, Mich.
Forbes, Orson J., Leroy, N. Y.
Fritsche, Herman, Java, N. Y.
Garratt, W. L., Watervliet, Mich.
Gloir, Paul, Alexander, N. Y.
Griffin, Charles R., Batavia, N. Y.
Griffis, John, Batavia, N. Y.
Hassett, John, S. and S. Home, Bath, N. Y.
Hatch, James C, Bergen, N. Y.
Humphrey, Amos, Darien Centre, N. Y.
Hutchins, M. D., Dryden, N. Y.
Jones, David, Attica, N. Y.
Knapp, Albert, Bergen, N. Y.
Lapp, H., Bennington, N. Y.
Livingston, A. H., Missouri Valley, Iowa.
Lock, Edwin, Lockport, N. Y.
Lockwood, Norman A., Muir, Mich.
Lybolt, Alonzo, Monticello, N. Y.
Lybolt, Arch., 280 West 127th street, New York city.
Lybolt, L. A., West Damascus, Pa.
Mcintosh, Angus, Churchville, N. Y.
McMillan, Arch., Hayes City, Kan.
Minturn, W. W., Lansing, Mich.
Morgan, Israel, Sodus Centre, N. Y.
Moses, Frank S., Arcadia Valley, Neb.
Moulton, E., Batavia, N. Y.
O'Donnell, Michael, 419 Second ave., N. E., Washington, D. C.
Parrish, Lieut. F. N., Churchville, N. Y.
Patrick, Corydon M., Hebron, Neb.
Pearsall, Levi, Moravia, N. Y.
Peck, George W., Newfield, N. Y.
Pollock, John P., New Hartford, Iowa.
Pond, E. H., Greenville, Mich.
Randolph, W. H, Bergen, N. Y.
Rich, Mortimer, East Bethany, N. Y.
Robertson, George W., 130 E street, Lincoln, Neb.
Rosecrants, E. F., Union Springs, N. Y.
Royce, Day, Niles, N. Y.
Shadbolt, H. Edwin, Alexander, N. Y.

388 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Smith, Wallace, Alexander, N. Y.
Spring, Scott, Attica, N. Y.
Stewart, Alex. C, Union Springs, N. Y.
Thompson, Orville, Morley, Mich.
Van Hoesen, J. P., Hudson, N. Y.
Vishion, H. W., 73 Michigan street, Buffalo, N. Y.
Ward, Edwin, Batavia, N. Y.
Warren, J., Springville, N. Y.
Wickers, J. C, Darien, N. Y.
Wing, E. B., Attica, N. Y.
Wing, Stephen P., Flint, Mich.
Zweitche, Christian, Alexander, N. Y.
ASSOCIATION OF COMPANY M SURVIVORS.
Somewhat remote from the other companies of the regi
ment, the veterans of M Company effected an organization of
their own in 18S7, and have met regularly since. The attend
ance and the character of the exercises indicate a deal of local
pride and interest in the annual gatherings, which have been
held as follows, with the named officers :
1887, Oct. 13, Attica. Pres., Albert H. Knapp; Sec, H. W.
Vishion.
1888, June 28, LeRoy. Pres., John Connor; Sec, H. W. Vishion.
1889, June 27, LeRoy. Pres., F. N. Parish; Sec, H. W. Vishion.
1890, June 26, Batavia. Pres., Eugene B. Wing; Sec, J. 0.
Griffis.
1891, June 25, Batavia. Pres., Edward F. Moulton; Sec, E. J.
Benton.
1892, June 30, Batavia. Pres., John O. Griffis; Sec, E. J. Ben
ton.
1893, June 29, Bergen. Pres., Josiah T. Crittenden; Sec, F. N.
Parish.
1894, June 28, Attica. Pres., David S. Spring; Sec, F. N. Par
ish.
1895, June 27, Churchville. Pres., Albert H. Knapp; Sec, F. N.
Parish.
1896, June 25, Bergen. Pres., Albert H. Knapp; Sec, F. N.
Parish.
1897, June 24, Alexander. Pres., Albert H. Moulton; Sec, F.
N. Parish.
1898, June 30, Batavia. Pres., Edwin Ward; Sec, F. N. Parish.
1899, June 29, Batavia. Pres., Mrs. J. O. Griffis; Sec, Mrs. F. N.
Parish.
The next meeting is assigned for Batavia with J. O. Griffis,
President, and F. N. Parish, Secretary; to be held the last
Thursday in June, 1900.
The names borne upon the company membership are as fol
lows. The post office is in New York unless otherwise stated:

VETERAN ASSOCIATION.

389

Brevet Lieutenant Colonel Anson S. Wood, Wolcott.
Captain Charles W. Hough, Batavia (honorary).
Adjutant W. DeW. Pringle, Hastings, Minn.
Lieutenant Asahel M. Abbey, Richland, Mich.
Lieutenant Josiah T. Crittenden, Bergen.
Lieutenant Robert C. Worthington, Fowlerville, Mich.
Avery, Benjamin L., Genoa. Manney, Jas. H, Lynn, Wis.
Avery, George, Alexander. Manney, Thos. J., Wurtzboro.
Bartlett, John W., Creston, la. Marvin, A., Derby, Mich.
Benton, Edwin J., Batavia. Miller, David, Rodney, Ont.
Bowman,G.W., Cambria, Mich. Morgan, Israel, Sodus Centre.
Bradley, C. W., Princeton, 111. Moses, Frank, Arcadia, Neb.

Brower, A. W., Sodus Centre.
Cleveland, C. J., Chicago, 111.
Colt, Alva N. Batavia.
Connelly, Henry, Newton, Mo.

Moulton, Albert H., Alexander.
Munger, Lucius A., Tracy, Cal.
Munt, John, LeRoy.
Nichols, M. W., Detroit, Mich.

Connor, John, Pavilion Centre. O'Donnell, M., Wash., D. C.

Cox, Benjamin, Bergen
Delano, E. C, Sodus Centre.
Demary, Sylvester, Attica.
Dodson, Earl A., Batavia.
Eastwood, Elias, Mumford.
Eddy, Wm. A., Morley, Mich
Forbes, Orson J., LeRoy, N. Y. Rice, Lyman, Buffalo
Foster, H., Council Grove, Kan. Rich, Alonzo, Grinnell, la,
Fritsche, Herman, Alexander. Rich, Mortimer, E. Bethany
Gloir, Paul, Attica

Parish, F. N., Churchville, N. Y.
Peard, J. J., Campbell, Cal.
Pearsall, Levi, Moravia.
Plant, Robert, North Chili.
Pond, E. H., Greenville, Mich.
Randolph, Wm. H., Bergen.

Godfrey, Arthur, Eaton, Mich.
Griffis, John O., Batavia.
Hassett, John, Bath.
Hollenbeck, E. J., Mancelona,
Mich.
Humphrey, Amos, Darien
Center.
Hutchins, Miles, Dryden.
Kidder, James, Crittenden.
Knapp, Albert H, Bergen.
Lapp, Henry, Bennington.
Locke, E., Cedar Rapids, Mich.
Lyons, Elias, Attica.
Mcintosh, Angus, Churchville.
McMillen, A., Hayes City, Kan.

Richmond, Sidney, Rochester.
Rogers, George, Buffalo.
Shadbolt, Edwin, Alexander.
Smead, Charles, Pavilion.
Smith, Wallace M., Batavia.
Spring, David S., Attica.
Schiller, John D., Niles, Mich.
Taylor, Stephen G., Chapman.
Van Curan, Charles, Corfu.
Vishion, Henry W., Buffalo.
Ward, Edwin, Batavia.
Warren, John J., Springville.
Wickers, J. C, Darien Centre.
Wing, Eugene B., Attica.
Wing, Stephen P., Flint, Mich.
Zweitsche, Christian, Alexander

390 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Personal Experiences of the Civil War.
By Mrs. Janet W. Seward.
Written for "The Fortnightly," a Woman's Literary Club in Auburn, N. Y., January
20th, 1898.
I was married on June 27th, 1860. The war began, as you
know, in April, 1861.
The first regiment raised here was the 19th New York State
Volunteers ; John S. Clark, Colonel ; my husband's cousin, Clar
ence A. Seward, Lieutenant Colonel; the Rev. Henry Fowler,
pastor of my church, the Central Presbyterian, Chaplain.
The regiment must have a stand of colors, so a meeting of
ladies was called. I was one of a committee appointed to raise
money and procure the flags. We went to George Clough, the
artist, and he painted the "coat-of-arms of the state of New
York" on the blue banner, from a picture of it which I found
in the State Constitution.
The regiment was then in camp near Elmira. This commit
tee, with several other ladies, accompanied by a committee of
gentlemen, went to Elmira, and Charles C. Dwight presented
the regimental banner and B. F. Hall the national colors, in
behalf of the ladies of Auburn.
My first sight of the active operations of the war was in
September of 1861, when I went with Mrs. Seward and Fanny,
my husband's mother and sister, to Washington. At Havre de
Grace we came upon the first camp stationed there to guard the
railroad and ferry. All the rest of the way through Baltimore
and on to Washington, soldiers were doing guard and picket
duty along the railroad. It was a novel sight to see these "Blue
Coats" in almost a continuous line for more than 150 miles.
some guarding, some building block-houses, some washing or
cooking, some asleep on the bare ground, others surrounding
small camp-fires cleaning their arms, many smoking or singing
as they performed their various duties.
Soon after reaching Washington, we went one afternoon to
drive with Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Seward, visiting several of the
camps and earthworks. Mr. Lincoln was very cordial and kind
to me, explaining with great interest all which we saw en route.
At another time Mr. Seward took Fanny and me to the White

Mrs. Lt. Colonel Seward. "Nellie" Seward (aged one year).
Seward Home, Fort Mansfield.

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 391
House to call on the president. We found him in his library
upstairs, and were received with the utmost kindness and sim
plicity. A few days later Fanny and I accompanied Mr. Seward to
Baltimore, and from there to Fort McHenry to see General
Dix, who was in command. We were received and entertained
by Mrs. Dix and two daughters, while Mr. Seward was in con
sultation with the general.
I remember the deep impression that the big fort made upon
us, with its guns, the old casemates brightened by the presence
of handsome young officers and gay young women. At dinner
there was a long table full of guests. I was seated at Mrs. Dix's
right hand, beside one of her daughters, with Fanny opposite.
Mr. Seward sat by the general, as they wished to continue their
conference. This fort soon after this visit became famous as a
place of detention for prominent secessionists.
On another occasion we went with Mr. Seward to call upon
General Scott. The handsome old hero was sitting upon his
piazza with some of his staff officers. He received us with
much ceremony and courtesy, inviting us into his military
office, saying, "Perhaps these young ladies would like to see
how an old soldier lives." He was as straight as an arrow,
and towered so far above me that he seemed like a giant.
We soon after came home, leaving Washington one great
growing camp of soldiers, and finding Auburn, if possible,
more than ever aroused by the war spirit.
In the fall of 1861, Quartermaster General Meigs appealed
to the loyal families of the country for contributions of blankets
for the use of the army. Mrs. Seward, knowing from personal
observation the necessity for this appeal, suggested the organi
zation of a "ladies' union society." Accordingly, we formed
a committee and issued a card referring to General Meigs' call,
asking that blankets be sent to Corning Hall. From this grew
the organization of the Ladies' Aid Society of Auburn.
The loyal women generally throughout the North organized
"soldiers' aid societies," spending their time cutting out gar
ments, sewing, scraping lint and rolling bandages. We brought
home many garments to make. Besides this, much of our spare
time was occupied knitting socks for the soldiers.
Our society continued this work throughout the war. Pre
vious to the formation of the "Aid Society," the "Good Samari-

392

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

tan Society," of which Mrs. Alvah Worden, Mrs. Seward's sis
ter, was president, had collected large quantities of sanitary
stores and clothing, which were forwarded from time to time to
the "National Sanitary Commission." This society also con
tinued its work until the close of the war.
My husband and Clinton MacDougall had lately started in the
banking business. One day in the fall of 1861, MacDougall
came to see me and said, "One of us ought to enlist, and I have
told your husband that I must be the one, as he has a wife
and I have no one to care for, so I am going." Mrs. Seward,
Fanny and I helped to fit out "our soldier," as we called him,
and he soon went away as a captain in the 75th Regiment.
In 1862 Captain MacDougall came home from Florida
wounded, and at Mrs. Seward's invitation, came to our house,
and we nursed him for several weeks.
In February and March, 1862, I spent six weeks in Wash
ington. Mrs. Seward and Fanny were in Philadelphia, where
Fanny was studying French. The Washington family at that
time consisted of Mr. Seward, Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Seward,
Colonel Augustus Seward, the oldest son, and myself. There
were many receptions and visits. The officers' uniforms mad-;
the receptions very gay in appearance, and almost all the con
versation was about the war.
Every Wednesday afternoon Mrs. Frederick Seward held a
ladies' reception, and every other Saturday evening a large gen
eral reception was given, when the house would be filled to
overflowing. General and Mrs. McClellan always came. The
general was then in command of the Army of the Potomac.
At the President and Mrs. Lincoln's Tuesday afternoon re
ceptions, the ladies of the Cabinet always assisted Mrs. Lin
coln, Mrs. Frederick Seward occupying the first place, as the
representative of the wife of the secretary of state. We were
all in full evening dress, the gentlemen in dress coats, as was
the custom of the time. Mrs. Lincoln was gorgeous with a
wreath of large white roses around her head, which, as her face
was round and full, was not very becoming.
I went with Mrs. Frederick Seward to Arlington House to call
upon the officers' wives who were quartered there. It was a
grand old mansion, and occupied by General Robert E. Lee
until the beginning of the war. One of the ladies invited us
to her room, and gave us pieces of the china that was presented

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 393
to Martha Washington by General Lafayette, she having found
a box of broken pieces in the attic.
I wrote to my husband at this time: "The Comte de Paris,
Due de Chartres and Prince de Joinville were here to dinner
last night. They appeared so pleased to see me again. The
count asked how you were, and a great many questions about
you ; said he hoped that he would meet you again."
They had been traveling through the country a short time
before and came to Auburn with a letter to my husband, and
we entertained them while here. These three princes of the
Royal House of Orleans arrived in Washington in September,
1861, the Prince de Joinville, son of King Louis Philippe, and
his nephews, the Comte de Paris and Due de Chartres, the
Comte de Paris being lineal heir of the throne of France. The
two young men came to offer their services and peril their lives
for the Union, serving as captains in our army.
In the summer of 1862, there were more calls for troops, and
the 111th and 138th Regiments were quickly raised in response.
My husband was commissioned lieutenant colonel of the 138th
Regiment, although I did not know it until a few days later.
Of course we talked about my husband's going, but I was in
hopes he would not have to do so; but one afternoon, while I
was spending the day with my mother, who was not well, he
came in with his hand behind him, sat down before me and
unwrapped a parcel and gave to me a large photograph of him
self. I knew instantly that he was going to leave me. I hope
that I took it bravely, but I can not exactly remember. After
that, there were a great many preparations to make and the
time went altogether too fast.
One day, while our regiment was forming, I was told that
a lady wished to see me. I found her to be one of my calling
acquaintances. She said, "I have come to request you to ask
your husband to persuade my husband not to go to the war;
I can not let him go." "But," said I, "how can I do that? My
husband is going." "Oh," said she, "your husband is going as
lieutenant colonel, while my husband is only a lieutenant."
"Well," I replied, "it is just as hard for me to have my husband
leave me as it is for you to have yours leave you, and I can not
see what the difference of rank has to do with it."
On the 11th of September, 1862, our first daughter was born.
On the 12th very early in the morning, I was aroused by an

394 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
unusual sound, and listening, found that it was the steady
tramp of many feet passing the house. No other sound but
a few words of command in a lowered voice that I knew so
well. It was our regiment marching to take the train for
Washington. It was really to me the most mournful sound
that I ever heard. No drum, no fife, nothing but the quick,
firm steps; and all the stillness was for my sake. My husband
was permitted to stay a few days longer, and then joined his
regiment near Washington, where they were in "Camp Nellie
Seward," named in honor of our little girl.
One day in December came a great surprise for me. I re
ceived a letter telling me that our regiment, now changed to
the 9th New York Heavy Artillery, had gone into winter quar
ters, and that a log-cabin was almost finished, and I was ex
pected to come with the baby and occupy it. There were a
great many discussions in the families. Both our mothers said
"Go," but the family physician, when consulted, said, "Well,
if you do go, you will bring a dead baby home with you." Mrs.
Seward said, "Nonsense; think of all the babies that have been
born and brought up in log-cabins." I made my preparations
to go; then we started one cold winter's day, Nelly three
months old; Mrs. Worden, my husband's aunt; Mrs. Bostwick,
my sister, and the nurse.
When we arrived at Albany, we crossed the river in a ferry
boat. The shores were packed with great cakes of ice. The
passengers had to jump down several feet on to the ice, as the
boat could not reach the dock. We were women alone. Mrs.
Bostwick took Nelly and jumped; then the rest of us followed,
with bags and bundles. There were no drawing-room cars in
those days, and there was always a general rush for seats in the
crowded, uncomfortable cars. We staid at the Astor House in
New York over night.
Leaving Mrs. Bostwick in New York, we started early next
morning. After passing Philadelphia, we began to see camps
occasionally. Through Baltimore and on to Washington, the
railroads were guarded. Everywhere we stopped, soldiers were
on duty. At one place, while the train was waiting, I was hold
ing the baby at the window. There were several soldiers stand
ing looking at us. A guard as he passed looked up at the
baby and raised his cap. At that, Aunty Worden opened the
window and said, "A soldier's baby." Then all the men waved
their caps and cheered until the train moved on.

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 395
When we arrived in the long, dark depot at Washington, as
I stepped off the car with baby in my arms, I was seized by a
tall, great-coated soldier, who said, "Give me the baby and come
this way." I helped Aunty Worden to alight, turned and ran
after the man, calling, "Will, Will, wait, you are carrying her
upside down." Poor fellow! He had never carried a baby
before. We received a warm welcome at our father's house, where
we spent the night. I was told that an army-wagon would
stop for our trunks in the morning, and we would go out to
camp in the afternoon. My husband came after breakfast, and
we went out and bought a cradle and table furniture. Every
thing else he had already provided for our comfort. After
lunch, he hurried back to his duties. It was a great amuse
ment to the family when the big army-wagon, with its white
cover, drawn by six mules, stopped at the door and took in
trunks, cradle, etc.
In the afternoon, our brother, Colonel Augustus Seward,
went with us in the family carriage. Our camp was situated
near Tennallytown, six miles from Washington, out through
Georgetown. As we were passing Georgetown, the nurse sud
denly exclaimed, "Oh ! Mrs. Seward, we have forgotten a wash-
tub." So we stopped, bought a tub and put it on the front of
the carriage, much, I think, to the disgust of the dignified
coachman in livery, a gentleman of color. The roads were
very rough, the red-clay soil being badly cut up with the con
stant passage of the heavy army- wagons.
Arriving at Tennallytown, we turned into a road across the
fields, going a mile towards the Potomac river, and a mile from
the famous chain bridge. We came first to Fort Reno, where
one-half of our regiment was encamped, under command of
Colonel Welling, who had built a log-house in a pine-grove.
Half a mile beyond, out in an open field, we found Fort Mans
field, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Seward, the other
half of the regiment being encamped there.
It was about 5 o'clock, the sun just going down, the beauti
ful rosy light tinting the white tents, and throwing a soft
glow over the landscape. We easily found the only log-cabin
there, and drove to the door. I could not understand the mean
ing of the perfect quiet. There was no one in sight excepting
the soldier on guard in front of the headquarters tent, which

396 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
was just opposite our cabin. The guard saluted Colonel Au
gustus Seward and told us to go into the house. We entered
a good-sized room with a bunk, or rough bedstead, in one corner,
a table, the cradle, four chairs and a rocking-chair, a cunning
little stove for burning wood, and a carpet on the floor. Back
of this room was a kitchen and a pantry off, with stairs going
up to the loft, where there was another bunk for the nurse.
Augustus made a fire in the stove.
When we were nearly unpacked, a man came running in to
receive us. He was Henry Fowler, known in Auburn as
"Banty Fowler." I said, "Where is everybody?" He answered,
"At dress-parade; the colonel will be here soon; it is almost
over." And in a few moments the companies came marching
back to their quarters, and my husband came in, giving us a
warm welcome.
The nurse and I made the house look very homelike. I had
taken red curtains and put them up at the two windows in the
sitting-room. I found Banty, as we all called him, putting the
tea-kettle over, and discovered that he was the colonel's cook
and maid-of-all-work, and a real good cook he was, too. Our
bed was a tick filled with good clean straw, over it a pair of
gray army-blankets. I brought with me sheets, pillow-cases,
pillows and an old-fashioned blue bedspread of my mother's.
I remember being awakened one night by a peculiar sen
sation about my head, and found the wind was blowing through
the cracks between the logs so hard that my hair was blowing
about my face. The next day I pinned newspapers to the logs
all around the bed and cradle. With all the wind and fresh
air, not one of us had a cold all winter, nor were any of us
sick but once, when my husband had a sharp attack of malarial
fever. I must tell you about a funny little Italian doctor that we
employed in Washington because he was a homeopathist. Dr.
Horatio Robinson told me to have the baby vaccinated, and
sent me a quill with the virus in it. I sent for the doctor, and
asked him to attend to the baby. He took the quill, looked at
it, asked about it, and said, "I will come to-morrow morning;
I never saw anything like this," and took the quill away with
him. He came the next morning and vaccinated the baby with
the little particles from the tube. It did not take, and when
we asked about it, we found that he had used the sand that

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 397
the little glass tube of virus was packed in. Fortunately, baby
did not take the small-pox.
Our camp at Fort Mansfield was located in the rear of the
fort. It was laid out in company streets, the men's tents fac
ing each other about thirty feet apart, the respective company
officers' tents facing each street. Then came the staff officers'
tents, then the headquarters tent, and back of that and facing
it our log-cabin, connected by a corduroy walk through the
mud. We had very jolly times in our little house; entertained
the officers and wives, two at a time, as our table would hold
only four, and many an evening we played whist and euchre
with Major Taft and Quartermaster Knowles, Nelly fast asleep
in her cradle in the corner of the room. I never thought of our
voices disturbing her, and I do not remember that they did.
One Sunday morning I happened to look out of the door, and
was surprised to see my husband coming up the company street,
and a soldier running after him. I was just about to scream
to him, as the man looked very angry, when the guard ran and
grabbed the soldier by the collar. My husband turned, looked
at them, then walked over and handed me a loaded pistol, and
then went back. It seems that the poor soldier was crazy
drunk and had held off several of the guard who were trying
to arrest him. They were all afraid of being shot, so they sent
for the colonel, who asked the man to hand him the pistol,
which was cocked and pointed at him, but received in reply
these words, "Don't come near me, Colonel Seward; I would
rather shoot any man in the regiment than you ; but, damn you,
I will shoot you if you lay hands on me." The colonel looked
him straight in the eye, saying kindly, "I know you will not
shoot me; give me your revolver." And the man did instinct
ively as commanded, and handed him the weapon. I have
heard my husband say that he felt that he came nearer being
killed by that man than in any of the battles.
We had a great many callers from Washington and Auburn
at different times— the president, members of the Cabinet,
foreign ministers and others, all curious to see how we lived in
camp. I wish I had thought to have kept a record of them.
Early in February, 1863, 1 went into Washington with Nelly
to visit Mrs. Seward, while my husband was sitting on court-
martial, which took him away from camp the most of the time.
While there he was sent for one morning by the president, and

398 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
ordered to leave that night on an important secret mission to
Louisiana. He was gone about three weeks. We did not hear
a word from him until he arrived back in New York, nor could
we tell where he had gone. Oh! how glad we were to get back
to our little cabin again.
As long as the roads were good, Mr. and Mrs. Seward came
out every few days to see the baby, but in the spring the roads
were so cut up by the heavy army-wagons, and the mud was
so deep, that nothing but an army-wagon or a horse alone could
get through them, and for six weeks they could not get out
to see us, nor I in to see them. Then there came a very beautiful
day, and my husband proposed that I should go in on horse
back, as he and the quartermaster were going; so I did, but oh,
what a ride ! Our horses had to walk all the six miles, most of
the way by the fences on the grass, or sinking in the mud to
their knees.
As the warm weather came on, I was surprised one day to
find a soldier making a garden at the side of the house, which
he filled with wild flowers. I went out to admire them and
thank him, when he said, "You don't remember me; I used to,
make garden for your mother, Mrs. Watson ; and what a pretty
garden she had!" Many a morning I would find a new wild
flower planted before I was up. After the flowers were gone
and the sun was strong, we having the shade of only one old
apple-tree, on the east side of the house, the men cut and set
around the house evergreen trees. Their shade was very grate
ful to us. The soldiers were all fond of the baby, and brought
all sorts of things for her amusement. One day it was a young
crow, which Banty and I succeeded in taming so that he would
hop in and eat with us at the table. This was great fun for
Nelly. There were constant rumors that the enemy might attack
the Chain Bridge, which was only a mile from us, and they were
making frequent raids, so one afternoon in May, just about
sunset, the long roll, the signal of an attack, was sounded.
The companies all rushed to arms, and Mary and I received or
ders to pack up and go into Washington. We started in a
little one-horse wagon that we had been using, and a soldier
drove us in by the light of the full moon, taking pains not to
forget the countersign, that we gave to the pickets, as we passed
them. Upon arriving at the house, we astonished and fright-

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 399
ened the family, by the news that we were running from the
enemy, but quieted their fears by saying that the men were
getting so careless and lazy that the lieutenant colonel gave
them the alarm, but had to send his family in to give it the
effect of reality. I did not go back to our dear little cabin,
much to my regret, as there were frequent alarms, and raids
by the guerrillas, as well as rumors that the regiment was to
be moved soon, and it was getting too warm to stay in the
south. We came back to Auburn, staying with Mrs. Seward. As
we were women alone, the front of the house was closed, the
family living in the north side and back of the house. It was
Mrs. Seward's custom during the summer to rise early and read
and write by a window in the north room upstairs, so the blinds
were always open. One morning she was not as early as usual,
but when she went in a large stone was in the middle of the
room, and broken glass was on her chair and the floor. The
stone had been thrown through the window, and if she had
been sitting in the chair she would have been hurt. When she
came to tell me about it, she said, "You had better take baby
and go to your mother's; we may have the house burned, or
something worse." "No," said I, "I will not leave you alone."
Then she said, "If you have anything very valuable, you had
better take it away." So that afternoon I took my husband's
photograph down to my mother's house, it being, to my mind,
the most valuable thing that I possessed. This was at the time
that the copperhead element was very active in the North, and
we were frequently threatened with violence.
My husband was sent in August, 1863, with four companies
of his regiment down on the Potomac river twenty miles to a
place called Rozier's bluff, where they built a fort or earth
works, called Fort Foote. It was a high bluff on the river, but
back of it was a low marsh, known as "The Graveyard of Prince
George County," and that, with the turning of the earth dur
ing the hot weather, caused a great deal of sickness among the
men. Out of 600, 300 were sick with fever. In September I
was making my mother a visit, and went one afternoon to the
milliner's with my sister, Mrs. Pomeroy. While there I re
ceived a telegram from Mr. Seward saying, "William very sick;
come immediately with his mother." I hurried home, while
Mrs. Pomeroy went to Mrs. Seward with the despatch. We

400 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
packed up, and in a few hours were on our way, accompanied
by Mr. Pomeroy. What a hard night's ride that was. We went
by the Northern Central road, so we could get there sooner.
There were no sleeping-cars, so we all sat in the hard, straight-
backed seats all night, two in a seat, Mary and I taking turns
holding the baby. We arrived in Washington early in the
morning, so thankful to find our dear one alive, a little better,
but desperately ill with dysentery. He was taken sick two
days before, and the doctors said that he could not live; sent for
his father, who had him carried on a stretcher to Washington,
accompanied by his faithful regimental surgeon, Dr. Cham
berlain, who never left him until he commenced to get better.
Sir Henry Holland, physician to Queen Victoria, was at the
time visiting Mr. Seward, and hearing how sick his son was,
asked to see him. After he had carefully examined the patient,
he said to Mr. Seward, "The young surgeon is doing well; I
think your son will recover with careful nursing ; give him only
mutton broth; it is the most soothing nourishment in his dis
ease." I remember how pleased we all were with Sir Henry,
he was so kind and interested for us.
With the good care of the doctors and his mother, my hus
band was well enough to come home in October. We had been
here only about a week when he was taken with typhoid fever,
and for three dismal months he had a hard fight for his life.
There were no trained nurses then. His mother and I took all
the care of him. Dr. Horatio Robinson watched him day and
night, and with his constant care and Dr. Robinson, Sr.'s,
counsel, he finally recovered.
In February, my husband went back to his command at Fort
Foote. Houses had been built there for the officers. Major
Taft, who had been in command during the lieutenant colonel's
absence, was occupying the colonel's house while one was build
ing for him, so I had to remain in Washington for the plaster
to dry in the major's house; but it took so long that finally I
moved down with my mother, who had come on to make me a
visit. Our house at Fort Foote was built of boards battened and
painted drab. There was a large room in the centre, with a
front and back door, a stairway going up to a loft over this
room and a pantry under the stairs. On each side was a small
bedroom, with doors opening on the front as well as into the

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 401
room. The major, his wife and three children occupied one
room until their house was finished. Mother and the nurse,
Mary Shiels, occupied the loft, and were very comfortable
excepting when the rain came through the board roof. A tent
at the back served as a kitchen, where Banty Fowler con
tinued to cook us good things. His buckwheat cakes were fine,
and the oysters and shad that he brought from the fishing boats
that came up the river were the best that I ever ate. The shad
were so fresh that Banty used to say they turned over in the
pan while he was cooking them.
We were much more stylish at this fort, and had more com
pany. Major Taft and Quartermaster Knowles had their fam
ilies, and several of the captains their wives with them. Many
general officers as well as citizens came down to see the fort,
and we entertained the most of them.
Fort Foote was the largest and most complete earthwork that
was built for the defense of Washington, and I believe is still
standing. It commanded the approaches by the river for sev
eral miles, and its great guns would make it exceedingly diffi
cult for an enemy to get past it. There had never been such
large guns mounted before as it contained, and it seemed to me
that the soldiers (it took three or four hundred at a time) would
never be able to get them up the bluff and into position. The
balls fired from them were so heavy that I could not even turn
one over on the ground, each weighing 500 pounds, and re
quired 100 pounds of powder to fire them. When fired, the men
were instructed to raise on their toes and open their mouths to
lessen the effect of the concussion.
One day there came down the president, secretary of war,
and several general officers, with their wives, to see the guns
fired. Careful preparation and distance measurements had
been made for the experiment; a large target placed upon a raft
had been anchored near the Virginia shore, about two miles
below. The men had practiced until they felt sure of their
aim. Just as the party were assembling to witness the smash
ing of the target with one of the great balls, the colonel was
astonished and chagrined to see through his glass a small party
of rebels row out from the shore, cut the anchor ropes, and
quickly tow the target around a bend of the river out of sight ;
so the firing had to be made at other objects of an unmeasured
distance. 26

402 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
I gave them lunch, setting the tables in one of the great
bomb-proofs, as the house was not large enough, and then took
the ladies all about the quarters. The view from, our window
was very beautiful, overlooking the river and the Virginia shore
opposite. About five miles below was Fort Washington, very
picturesque, but regarded nearly useless, as stone forts had
been proved not strong enough to withstand modern artillery.
It was, however, garrisoned at this time.
We officers' wives made many excursions about the country.
I remember once we went by boat (there was a small tug at all
times in service at our fort) to Alexandria, there took ambu
lances and went to Arlington House, Contraband Camp, Sol
diers' Rest, and several other places in Virginia.
At another time we went to Mount Vernon, but were very
glad to get back in our own little boat without being fired
upon. Mount Vernon was considered neutral ground, but the
river on each side was infested with rebel guerrilla bands that
made the trip dangerous. Another time we went to Fairfax
Court House, crossing the river, and using an ambulance on
the Virginia side.
The only time my baby was sick in camp was at Fort Foote.
She was seriously ill at midnight. We called the young sur
geon, Dr. Chamberlain, but felt that he didn't know much
about babies, being a very young man. (He confessed to me
privately afterwards that this was the first time that he had
been called upon to attend a baby.) At daylight my husband
started with the little tug-boat for Washington for Dr. Verdi
and his mother. He arrived while the family were at break
fast. He told what was the matter, and said, "Where is
mother?" His father answered, "She has been sick in bed for
a week." "I am so sorry," he said, "I wanted to take her back
with me." "She will go," was the reply. "But she can't if she
is sick in bed." "I am sure she will go when she learns Nelly
is sick," said his father. And sure enough, when my husband
went to her room, he found her in bed, but when he said, "Nelly
is sick; I have come for Dr. Verdi," she got right up, saying,
"I shall go with you," and in less than an hour she and the
doctor were on the little boat hurrying down the river in a
heavy storm, which tossed the boat about and drenched the
occupants. Such was her beautiful, unselfish character, put-
ing aside her own ills when she could help the other members

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 403
of her family. You can imagine how relieved I was when she
and the doctor came in at the door.
Our tug went once each day to Washington for the mail and
supplies. My windows overlooked the winding road down the
steep bluff to the river, and we were always interested to see
who was coming and going, but saddened when we heard, as
we frequently did, the beat of the muffled drum, and watched
the solemn procession, marching down to the boat, with flag
furled, guns reversed, and slow step, following some soldier
who had finished his service for his country.
One day in April Major Taft came and asked me if I could
keep a secret, as he needed my assistance. The officers were
going to present the lieutenant colonel with a sword. I kept
the secret, and assisted in making the arrangements. On the
24th of April, I wrote to my mother, expressing regret that she
had been obliged to go home before the presentation, saying :
"Will never suspected a thing. Colonel Haskins, a one-armed
Mexican veteran, in command of our division, and party came
down about. 12 o'clock. Cornelius Underwood and daugh
ter and Mr. Patty arrived on the mail-boat. I did not see much
of Mr. Patty, he is so shy, but he had Nelly in his arms during
the presentation. After that, the companies were formed into
a hollow square. Will was standing near Colonel Haskins,
and I near him. We were all by the house; had seats under
the trees. As the square was formed, two men started
from headquarters, one with a table, the other with the box.
When Will saw that, he said, 'Well, what is all this about?'
Colonel Haskins said, 'I think it is time you knew; there is to
be a sword presentation here to-day; that's what it all means.'
Then I asked Will if he didn't know about it. He said, 'No,
this is the first.' We were all invited inside the square, and
Captain William Wood made a very handsome presentation
speech. Will appeared perfectly cool and self-possessed, re
ceived the sword very gracefully, and made a neat little speech
in return. I was so sorry you were not here. I know that you
would have been as proud of Will as I was. He commenced
by saying he was perfectly surprised, although he knew an
officer should never be surprised, but they must make allow
ance for him, as he was only a volunteer. After that the sword,
sash and belt were put on, and Will conducted a short drill,
after which I invited all in to lunch. We had sandwiches,

404 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
oysters, raw and stewed, coffee, cake and pickles. We enter
tained, I should think, about forty people; had plenty for them,
and everything was satisfactory, the guests leaving between
4 and 5 o'clock. It is so warm now that we do not need fires.
Nelly is out of doors most of the time. The trees at the back of
the house are nearly in full leaf. It seems to me as if I could
see them open."
On May 10th, about 9 o'clock in the morning, came orders
for my husband, with his command, to report to Colonel Well
ing, at Arlington, Va. As soon as possible, we packed up as
many things as we could take, leaving the rest. I wrote, "I
came up to Washington on the tug-boat at 2 o'clock, leaving
just as the companies marched down to take their boats. It
is real hard to leave such a pleasant place, although I had
been expecting it for a week."
Our regiment was sent from Arlington to Fort Richardson,
and from there to Fort Reynolds, where the lieutenant colonel's
headquarters was in an old-fashioned farm-house. Soon after,
the regiment being ordered to the front, my husband came for
me one morning with an ambulance, and we went to Alexan
dria and purchased such necessary articles as he thought he
could carry with him, packing them in a small mess-chest.
One thing I remember was a piece of dried beef, which he after
wards tied to the bow of his saddle, and carried as long as it
lasted, cutting off a piece occasionally on the march. I went
back with him to the old farm-house, staying until the next
day. While there, I sewed his two army-blankets together,
making a sleeping bag, which he afterwards used most of the
time when they were without tents.
On the 18th of May, 1864, the 9th Artillery came together
and marched to Belle Plain. Nelly and I were with Mr. Sew
ard in Washington. I was sure to stay in the house, fearing
that my husband might come and find me away. He did come
on the afternoon of the 21st of May, saying that they were
ordered to join the Army of the Potomac, and that Colonel
Welling had come up with him and resigned his commission,
as he would not go to the front. After he had finished his
business with Colonel Welling at the War Department, he had
time only for a hurried dinner; then Mr. Seward and I went
with him to the river, where we found the boat that had
brought him up waiting, and he left us.

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CIVIL WAR. 405
The next day being Sunday, Mr. Seward took Fanny and me
with several friends down the river, to go, as he said, "to Belle
Plain to see William." It was a bad day, the river was rough, and
when we arrived, it was too rough to make the landing, and
much to my grief, the boat turned and we started back. Fanny
and I strained our eyes looking, but could not see even a tent,
so we sat out of sight of the rest of the party and had a good
cry, we were so disappointed.
The next day we found that the regiment had left Belle
Plain early Sunday morning, so we could not have found them
had we landed.
Soon after this, my husband was appointed colonel, receiv
ing his commission just as he was going into the battle of Cold
Harbor. We did not even hear from him for weeks. After
dinner I always went upstairs and stayed while the nurse went
to her dinner. On the evening of the 1st of June, while
sitting in the twilight, I heard my husband call "Jenny." I
jumped up, listened, and heard again, "Jenny," so distinctly
that I went into the hall, and again came the voice, "Jenny," so
plain I looked over the railing, fully expecting to see him coming
up the stairs. There was no one there, and I went back dis
appointed, thinking how strange it was. Afterwards, I found
that this occurrence took place at the very hour that he was in
the Battle of Cold Harbor, and came very near losing his life.
I stayed in Washington, hoping to hear from my husband,
until the weather was so warm that Nelly became ill, and Mr.
Seward said, "My daughter, it is not safe to keep that little
girl here any longer; I promise you I will send you the news
of William immediately we receive any." The nurse and I
packed our trunks, and John Butler, a trusted colored servant,
went with us to New York, and put us on the train for Auburn,
after spending the night at the Astor House.
Oh! what a dreadful long waiting that was! No word, only
news of terrible battles every day. The first news that we re
ceived was a few words written on a piece of brown paper from
Colonel MacDougall, saying, "I have just seen Will at Cold
Harbor, and he is all right. Had a hard fight, in which most
of his clothes were torn from him."
A letter from Quartermaster Knowles, written June 4th,
1864, received two weeks later, said, "I left there after their
first day's fight, June 1st. It was a very hotly contested bat-

406 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
tie. The colonel and Major Taft got through all right, and
were so up to 8 o'clock to-night. The colonel got a rap over the
head with a rebel gun or sword, and had one leg of his pants
torn off, and his satchel stolen from Banty off his horse that
night, as all officers were ordered to dismount and send their
horses to the rear. We have been assigned to the 2d Brigade,
3d Division, 6 th Corps, which is his address. Pardon the lib
erty I have taken, and be assured you have my best wishes and
constant prayer for the success and safety of our dear colonel
commanding, and accept the assurances of my sincere regards
and sympathy for yourself, from one who feels sincerely and
truly your friend. Henry P. Knowles."
All of our letters were a long time in reaching us. One I
have dated June 5th, was received by me on the 20th. Of
course, our letters were equally long in reaching the camps.
I think you will be interested if I tell you how our regiment
on one occasion threw up their breastworks. My husband
wrote a letter dated "In the field about three miles south of
Petersburgh," saying, "Orders were then received for the first
line of battle to intrench themselves. My regiment being
larger than all the rest of the brigade, we composed the front
line, and to throw up breastworks without a single tool of any
description was not an easy matter. I, however, divided the
regiment into two single lines, and had the first loosen the
earth with their bayonets, and the second line throw it up in
the form of breastworks, using their tin cups and plates in
place of shovels. In one hour from the time I received the
order, we had a fine work at least five feet high. The continual
shower of rebel bullets accelerated the work."
On Sunday morning, July 10th, I was staying at my mother's,
when about noon, my sister, Mrs. Pomeroy, and her husband
came in. Mr. Pomeroy said, "There was a battle at Monocacy,
Maryland, yesterday." I said, "Will could not have been in
that, as he is down in front of Petersburgh, Va." "No," he re
plied, the 9th Artillery were in the battle." I looked at him
startled, and he then said, "It is reported that Will is wounded
and taken prisoner."
At the request of Mr. Pomery, the telegraph office was kept
open all that day and the following night, and he and Mr. Bost
wick took turns in watching the news that passed over the
wires. The telegraph and railroad lines beween Baltimore and

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THB OlVIli, WAR. 407
Washington had been cut off by the rebels, so the news from
there was received, through couriers to Annapolis. I went to
Mrs. Seward, and we concluded to pack our trunks, and be
ready to start for Washington as soon as railroad communica
tions were reopened. All night my two brothers-in-law waited
and watched until 2 o'clock, when a despatch came, saying,
"Colonel Seward wounded, but not a prisoner." Major Taft
was shot and lost his leg. Surgeon Chamberlain stayed with
him, and both were taken prisoners.
My husband's horse was shot under him, and falling upon
him, broke his ankle. He also received a slight wound in the
arm. He escaped being taken prisoner from the fact of his
having on a private's uniform, as he had lost his own at the
Battle of Cold Harbor. After the rebel line had passed over
him, he crawled on the ground to a piece of woods, where he
found a mule, which, with the help of a straggler, he mounted,
using his red silk pocket handkerchief for a bit and bridle, and
rode about fifteen miles during the night to Ellicott's Mills, and
overtook his retreating regiment. He was taken to Washing
ton, and after five days he came home to us. I shall never
forget how shocked his sister Fanny and I were, when we met
him at the depot, to see how thin and worn he looked ; but how
happy we were to have him with us, and to nurse him back to
health. It was a singular coincidence, that this mule was one
of my husband's own pack mules. Having two, his orderly,
Henry Rooker, had ridden away on one, leaving this one to her
fate. They were brought home, and Mrs. Chesebro, my hus
band's cousin, kept them both on her farm on Canandaigua lake
until they died, taking especial care of "Jenny," as she called
her, for bringing her master safely away from the rebels.
His horse lay on the field with a wound in the neck, appar
ently dead, but shortly after recovering from the shock, fol
lowed the troops, overtook the retreating orderly on the mule,
who, seeing the blood streaming from the poor animal's neck,
staunched its flow with the contents of his tobacco pouch, and
took him to Washington, where his wound was properly cared
for. He continued in my husband's service. The following
winter, in Martinsburgh, when he was harnessed to an ambu
lance in order to take General Custer and his bride to Win
chester, he resented the indignity, and kicked the vehicle to
pieces.

408 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
In September, my husband received a commission as briga
dier general, conferred upon him for his service at the Battle of
Monocacy. Early in October, he was ordered to take command of a bri
gade in the Shenandoah valley, with headquarters at Martins
burgh; and although there were constant raids and skirmishes
with the rebels, there was not the continual, terrible anxiety
for us women at home, that there was before.
On the 10th of November, our son William was born. His
father had a fifteen days' leave of absence to come home and
make his son's acquaintance. This occurrence ended my per
sonal army life, as it was a little too much for me to go into
army quarters with two babies.
Soon after my husband returned to Martinsburgh, where he
remained during the winter of 1864 and '65. I had two severe
trials. My nurse was taken sick and died; and the night that
her remains lay in the room opposite to mine, I received a
letter from Captain Knowles, telling me that my husband was
very sick. I felt that I was indeed deserted and everything was
going wrong.
In April, 1865, my husband and my brother, George Watson,
who was an aide-de-camp, rank lieutenant, on General Seward's
staff, were at home on a short leave of absence. They started
for Martinsburgh on the night of April 13th. In the morning
of April 14th, my mother, who was keeping me company for the
night, and I were awakened early by a servant coming to tell
us that the man had heard that the president had been killed,
Mr. Seward and Mr. Frederick were killed, and Colonel Au
gustus nearly killed, and all the rest of the family wounded.
Of course, we were in great excitement.
About 7.30 the side door-bell rang furiously. Eliza went to the
door, and we heard a woman's voice, very loudly and excitedly
saying, "I want to see Mrs. Seward. I must see Mrs. Seward."
Eliza said, "Well, you can't see her." Mother went to the door
and asked what she wanted. She only said, "I must see Mrs.
Seward." I started to go to the door, but Eliza pushed me
back, putting her arms around me, saying, "Don't go, don't go,
she wants to kill you too, I know she does, she looks so crazy."
Mother would not let the woman in through the door, and
finally shut it. I said, "Mother, let me see what the woman
wants." Mother replied, "She will not tell what she wants,

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 409
and she looks so wild, I do not think it safe for you to see her."
The servants insisted that the woman intended to kill Mrs.
Seward. I always regretted that I could not have gotten to
her, as she might have had some valuable information to give
me. She came and went in a hack, evidently just arrived on the
train. '
Soon telegrams began to arrive, telling of the dreadful assas
sination. My husband heard the awful news, upon his arrival
in Baltimore, early in the morning. All the trains to Wash
ington were stopped. He telegraphed to the secretary of war,
who at once ordered an especial engine, which took him, with
my brother, immediately to Washington, where they found the
house, of course, in the greatest confusion. My husband re
mained at the bedside of his wounded father and brothers, and
cared for his mother until her death, on June 21st, 1865. The
war having ended, he resigned his commission on June 1st.

CHAPTER XXIX.
Personal Sketches.
Asahel M. Abbey. — Lieutenant Abbey was one of the 22d
Independent Battery boys; starting as a sergeant, he left the
service as 1st lieutenant.
He was born in Genesee county June 24, 1837; was prepared
for college in the Cary Collegiate Institute of Oakfield, N. Y.,
and entered Hobart College in Geneva, remaining till his junior
year. When the war came it found him a medical student.
For a number of years his home has been in Richland, Kala
mazoo county, Mich.
Edwin A. Bishop. — A native of Guilford, Conn., 1834; came
to Ontario in 1858, and went thence, with Company B, to the
war. Returning, he moved to Rochester in 1868, following his
trade of house-painting.
He has been the commander of C. J. Powers Post, G. A. R.,
and in 1890 was one of the department delegates to the National
Encampment in Boston.
He takes an active interest in company and regiment, and
several years since read a very entertaining paper on the same
before a reunion of Company B.

410 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Alonzo Bowen. — In war-times Comrade Bowen found all the
fun that ever came his way. Two pictures in this volume faint
ly portray some of the nonsense in which he indulged and which
was of the utmost good to his associates, since it kept their
spirits up.
Since the war he has found a home in Monroe, Mich., where as
a maker and dispenser of a specific for human ills he is achiev
ing fame and success.
George W. Brinkerhoff. — A Wolcott boy, he came from that
part of the town known as Red Creek. Born October 23d, 1838,
he had just got a good start in his majority when the call to
arms, in 1862, drew him into the ranks of Company A, and with
Captain Snyder he marched away to perils, duty, and the proud
consciousness of serving his country.
His youth had the educational advantages that his town
afforded, while his early manhood was devoted to a broader
and more exacting school, viz., that of the soldier. Leaving his
young wife behind him, he became one of the best soldiers in
the company, and went to Washington as a sergeant. By well
earned and regular promotion he came home as brevet major.
No officer was ever more thoroughly respected than the third
and last captain of A Company.
When the war was over, he returned to his home and again
became one of those who constitute the true back-bone of every
nation, a farmer. While thus laboring at the very foundation
of prosperity, his fellow citizens have recognized his merits re
peatedly in electing him to town office, and in 1891 sending him
to the Legislature as Assemblyman for eastern Wayne. In
Albany he was the same painstaking legislator that those who
knew him as a soldier expected him to be. While interested in
all the legislation of the session, perhaps his most conspicuous
service was the securing of the abolition of fees for county
clerks and sheriffs. At the present time, 1899, he is supervisor
of the town of Wolcott.
To him and his wife, who was Maria Frost, sister of a fellow
Company A man, have been born four children, Lester, Ernest,
Eliza and Delia. Entrenched upon his 200-acre farm, with his
family and the proud recollection of duty done, what more could
he ask? In foreign lands such services and such possessions
would suggest knighthood, but our country does better, since
in his quiet life, though alert and alive to the needs of the day,

REV. REUBEN BURTON.
Company B.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 411
we dub him that proudest of all titles worn by any man on the
earth to-day, viz., an honest American citizen.
Aldace W. Brower. — Comrade Brower is one of the promi
nent citizens of Sodus, having charge of the railroad-station at
the Center; for twenty years he was postmaster.
Albert H. Bull. — A Huron boy, Comrade Bull did not see
quite enough of army service in the Ninth, so after the war he
enlisted in the U. S. A., and was a sergeant in Company B, 42d,
and Company F, 6th Infantry. After years of arduous duty,
he now resides in Warren, O.
Reuben Burton. — He has been so long and so favorably
known as the Rev. Reuben Burton of Syracuse that his plain
unhandled name may hardly be recognized. Born in Clyde, the
son of Hiram Burton, a thrifty and respected farmer, he had the
advantages of the local schools and then began a college pre
paratory course in the Red Creek Academy, from which he was
summoned by the call to arms in 1862. He easily gained the
grade of sergeant to begin with, and in that capacity served
for more than a year, dividing his time among drill, clerical
work at regimental headquarters and teaching in the school
organized at Fort Mansfield. Later he received a commission as
2d lieutenant, and was assigned to I and then to B. While serv
ing with B at Monocacy and through the burning of the bridge,
he fell into the hands of the enemy and endured a long imprison
ment, lasting into the following spring.
He was at first confined in the Richland county (S. C.) jail,
and afterwards in the "Asylum Camp" of Columbia, S. C. Soon
after his return to duty, he was assigned to staff service, and in
this capacity reached the time of muster-out for the regiment.
Meantime he had been commissioned 1st lieutenant, and urged
by Major Lamoreaux, who was to command the 9th Battalion
in the 2d Heavy, he consented to remain, and was again placed
on staff -duty. The generals with whom he served regarded his
work as most satisfactory, and General Whistler, commanding
the brigade, wrote across the lieutenant's parchment, "A brave
and competent officer." The duty given to Lieutenant Burton
to perform was of the most arduous and exacting nature, and
had before his assignment been performed by a major.
Coming home from the army, our lieutenant gave up his
ministerial aspirations that had been his through his earlier
years, and went into business, but the call that he had received

412 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
was of a character that he could not ignore, and though he was
married, having in 1867 been united to Miss Janette Waldruff
of Galen, he determined to begin over again the work dropped
when he enlisted. Accordingly he went to Rochester and pur
sued five years' course in the University and Theological School
of that city, and was ordained in 1876.
Having been baptized in the Baptist Church of Clyde, in
which his father had long been a deacon, he very naturally
entered upon the ministry of that denomination, and his voice
for more than twenty years has been one of the most popular
in western New York. All his church-work has been in his
native state, and for the most part in the western portion there
of. In 1889 he began the organization of a wholly new enterprise
in the city of Syracuse. He began his labors in a hired hall,
but now the church numbers 525 members, and the Sunday-
school has a membership of over 700. A new edifice has been
erected with a seating capacity of more than a thousand; but
there are victories yet to be won, and our reverend lieutenant
is still pressing on just as manfully as in the days of his mili
tant career. It ought to be stated that no man in his vicinity
is heard on patriotic and kindred themes more eagerly than
Comrade Burton.
To Lieutenant Burton and wife have been born two children,
Lena C. and H. Grace ; the former is the wife of the Rev. How
ard I. Andrews.
Joseph B. Casterline. — He was born in Clyde, N. Y., June 21,
1839, and was married to Miss Mary E. Bassett of Wolcott Aug.
5, 1862. Then came his enlistment, or more properly his de
parture, for the scenes of hostilities ; was wounded at Cold Har
bor, and did not return to the regiment till September following.
He was mustered out as a sergeant of Company A.
In 1881 he moved from North Wolcott to Wautoma, Wis.,
where he now resides. His people have appreciated his abilities,
for they have made him town clerk four years; justice of the
peace five years, and supervisor two years; also he has been
clerk of courts two terms of two years each.
This is a good illustration of the way veterans of the Ninth
serve their country when the people recognize their good quali
ties. T. J. Chaddock. — Lieutenant Chaddock is another of the vet-

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 413
erans who quickly exchanged the garb of a soldier for that of
a farmer, and resumed the occupation he left when he enlisted.
His family has long been resident in the town of Rose, and as
long prominent in the affairs of the Baptist Church, in which
our lieutenant has been for several years a deacon. Indeed, in
his immediate neighborhood, he is more frequently addressed
by his church title than by that won in war-time.
Dwight S. Chamberlain. — This gentleman, who early joined
the regiment as assistant surgeon and who succeeded Dr. Sabin
when the latter resigned, is one of the best-known citizens of
Wayne county. He was born in Litchfield county, Conn., Feb
ruary 22d, 1839, having ancestors who had borne their part in
the War of the Revolution. His education was received at the
Genesee Seminary and College of Lima, N. Y., and at the
University of the City of New York, from whose medical depart
ment he was graduated in 1862. Then followed a professional
trip to England, from which, in 1862, he came into the 138th as
assistant to Surgeon Sabin. After the resignation of the latter,
Dr. Chamberlain was promoted major and surgeon, and so con
tinued to the end.
Coming as he did, it was his fortune to see all the active
service of the Ninth, and to impress himself on the men as a
most vigorous and efficient officer. Following the war, he was
for a time in charge of the Soldiers' Home and Hospital in Syra
cuse, but in September, 1865, he came to Lyons and formed a
partnership with Dr. E. W. Bottume, at that time one of the
oldest and most successful practitioners in Wayne county.
In 1868 he began the study of law, and was admitted to its
practice in 1874, since which time he has largely devoted himself
to that profession. His wife, to whom he was married in 1868,
was Katharine M., daughter of the late D. W. Parshall, and
they have long been prominent features in the social life of
Lyons. In all that pertains to the welfare and upbuilding of his
adopted village, our ex-surgeon has been active and successful.
The Parshall Memorial Building, erected by him, is an elegant
edifice, containing one of the best-appointed opera houses in
the state outside of the larger cities. Many of the finest busi
ness structures in the village are the property of himself and
wife. They also possess other extensive real-estate and farming
lands in the town and county. Major Chamberlain is, moreover,

414 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
heavily interested in banking, and perhaps no one man did more
than himself in a critical moment in retaining for Lyons the
buildings of the county seat, then in imminent peril of going
elsewhere. Then as at many other times he demonstrated his
possession of leadership.
Much of the development of Sodus Point as a summer resort
is owing to our ex-surgeon's care and foresight, and frequenters
of that interior watering-place will acknowledge the justice of
this statement.
After all, the survivors of the Ninth like best to think of him
as the one whom they confronted when they responded to the
doctor's call, and though these memories are, somehow, mixed
up with quinine and castor-oil, yet they recall him as one who
would have made them whole and thus keep them up to the
requirements of a healthy soldier's standard.
Alton E. Cobb. — Of all the boys who took in the winter in
Danville, perhaps no one was better known than Cobb. All of
us felt particularly thankful for the blow he dealt the Confed
eracy when the rebel officer came in to trade breeches during
the giving out of clothing, in the month of February. The
Johnny threatened to keep us there all the spring, but his forci
ble remarks did not bring back his Confederate scrip.
It was pleasant to note the luxuries that our comrade's party
enjoyed on their way to Richmond. Again the adage, "All's
fair in war."
Alton's address for some time has been Scranton, Penn.
William H. Coombs. — Comrade Coombs of Company H is one
of the veterans who have found homes in the great Southwest.
He is living now in San Angelo, Texas, but he has resided in
other parts of the state as well as in Colorado. Though remote
from his comrades of old, he keeps pretty well posted on our
whereabouts. John L. Crane. — Captain Crane was born in Butler, Wayne
county, June 23d, 1836; fitted for college in Red Creek Academy
and entered Union College, though he did not graduate; studied
law in Port Byron, and was admitted to practice in 1859, locat
ing in Clyde. After his return from the army he went West,
and died in Sauk Center, Minn., Dec. 8, 1874, from lung disease
contracted in his army life.
John E. Dean. — The last sergeant major of the regiment re
sides in Newark, O. Of Scotch-Irish parentage, he was born in

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 415
Locke, Cayuga county, Aug. 1st, 1844; was graduated from
Auburn Public School No. 5, and remained in or near the city
till his enlistment under Lieutenant Howard in Company I.
He began as private, and with the exception of a short fur
lough was on duty all the time to the end ; was one of the 250
when in the valley the regiment was reduced to that number.
Being detailed at headquarters for special duty, he followed
Guy Brown as sergeant major when the latter was promoted
lieutenant. The comrade acknowledges straggling once when
we were making that rapid march to Danville, and the regi
ment covered 125 miles in four days and five hours. The ser
geant major writes most pleasantly of his memories of all the
officers of the Ninth, particularly of Welling, Seward, Snyder,
Comstock, Brown and Howard.
In 1867 he went to the West, and for two years was clerk of
the District Court in Nebraska City, afterwards engaging in
mercantile pursuits. Coming back to Ohio in 1874, he has re
sided there since, rearing four sons to perpetuate his name and
memory. He is connected with the business house of P. & F.
Corbin of New York, Philadelphia and Chicago.
Walter Deuel. — He was born in Stanford, Dutchess county,
July 14, 1824, and spent his boyhood on a farm, getting the
usual amount of district school. In 1848 he took a westward
trip as far as Frankfort, Herkimer county, where he was mar
ried to Miss Heziah M. Watson. Thence coming to Wayne
county, he was on a farm till his enlistment in Company D.
After the muster-out of the 2d Heavy, to which he, with so
many others, had been transferred, he came back shattered in
health and finally located in Chittenango, where he managed a
market-garden and greenhouse. There, March 27, 1887, he was
stricken with apoplexy, from which he never rallied.
He left a widow and two sons, one, Dr. W. E. Deuel of Chit
tenango; the other, Charles S., recently graduated from a dental
college. John H. De Voe. — He was born Sept. 8, 1846, in Butler; was
living there when the 138th was raised, and it would appear
that he was sixteen yeare old the day that he was mustered in
as drummer of Company G. With the exception of a ten-days'
furlough, was never absent from the regiment. In the winter of
1862 and '63 his company gave him a beautiful brass drum,
which he used all the way through, and now retains, and whose

416 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
picture is found in this book. It met with a sad mishap at Cold
Harbor, where a cannon-ball mashed it flat, but it was smoothed
out, and now graces Memorial and other parade occasions.
Hardly more than a boy when the war was over, he went
home to South Butler, and attended school in that village, hav
ing as principal that excellent scholar, Albert J. Davis. In
1867 the family went to Illinois and settled near Marseilles.
Alternating between teaching and attending school, working
on the farm between whiles, he was graduated from Grand
Prairie Seminary, commercial department, 1869. The following
autumn he entered Michigan University, remaining through
his sophomore year. Then receiving an offer to teach in Bland-
ville College, Ky., he accepted.
Later drifting to Chicago, for two years he was employed in
the wholesale dry-goods house of J. V. Farwell & Co. Then he
served the Chicago & Alton Railroad Company at Washington,
Ills. Here he was married to Miss Emma Smith, a music
teacher of Eureka College, who has in these later years acquired
no little fame as a speaker for the National Woman's Suffrage
Association. In 1881 Mr. and Mrs. De Voe moved to Huron, South Dakota,
near which they founded the town bearing their name in Faulk
county. He was a very prominent factor in the campaign re
sulting in the division of the state.
In 1891 he returned to Illinois, locating in Harvey, a suburb
of Chicago, and which is now his home. Soon afterwards he
was elected police magistrate of the place, and in the period of
holding this office studied law, being admitted to the bar in
1894. At present he is in mercantile business in Harvey.
Though long away from New York, Comrade De Voe retains
the liveliest recollections of the former days and of his old
associates in the regiment.
Stephen T. Devoe. — Our second chaplain clearly belongs to
the church militant, for at the age of forty years he enlisted
in Company G, and was its first sergeant, when on the resigna
tion of Chaplain Mudge, he was made his successor. Being a
regularly ordained minister of the Free Baptist denomination,
he had repeatedly preached while doing his duty in the camp.
He fought well at Cedar Creek, and the boys always have a
good word for the chaplain, who with the weight of years upon
him is living in Wolcott. He writes these words : "Among the

2d LIEUT. CHAUNCEY FISH,
Company B.
Later, 1st Lieutenant, Captain, and Brevet Major.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 417
earliest of my recollections are the lessons taught me by my
father and mother concerning my native land, America, and its
government. I got the impression that this was the best gov
ernment in the broad world, and it thrilled my whole being to
hear, 'My country, 'tis of thee.'
"So when the Civil War broke out, it became a serious study to
know just what my duty was, when portending disaster threat
ened the very life of my country."
We are glad that duty seemed to call for his enlistment and
that the mantle of Chaplain Mudge fell upon such excellent
shoulders. While his sense of hearing is dulling fast and the
shores of the silent sea are nearing, memory recalls the bugle
sounds of other days, and his face lights up at thoughts of the
time when he heard the clarion-notes of duty's call, and so
heartily responded.
Walter G. Duckett. — There were those who liked Washington
so well that they concluded to remain there. Among them was
the young man who had served the 2d Battalion in the capacity
of hospital steward. His merits in this line of duty were rec
ognized, and he was transferred to the U. S. A., remaining till
April, 1866.
Locating in the Capital of the nation, he has continued to do
a business in the pharmaceutical line ever since. Few veterans
of the Ninth fail to call on him when in Washington, and they
almost made his store their headquarters in 1892.
John F. Failing. — The long time efficient hospital steward
of the Ninth is now an M. D. in Grand Rapids, Mich. It is a
source of regret that more extended data are not at hand, but
he lends a hand to the making of this book.
Chauncey Fish. — He is entitled to the rank of major, but
somehow to a great many, it Comes more natural to call him
"captain," just a little nearer, for a captain is in close contact
with those who follow, and when we look at the origin of the
word, what is there higher than the head? and that is what the
word comes from.
Of Massachusetts stock, Chauncey Fish has in his own life
and in that of his sons fully exemplified the merits of his ances
tors, who repeatedly stood for what they deemed their rights.
His parents, Thomas and Sarah (Gallop) Fish, settled in Wil
liamson in 1810, and there in 1828, January 22d, our captain
27

418 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
was born, the second of nine children. His wife was Phoebe J.
Cottrell, also of Williamson, and of New Jersey descent. They,
too, have had nine children, of whom Myron and John were
members of the same company with their father. Myron was
killed at Winchester in 1864, and John died in 1869.
Captain Fish was one of the most active agents in the rais
ing of Company B, and he went away from Auburn as 1st
sergeant. Every promotion was fairly earned, and to this day
no officer of the Ninth enjoys a higher degree of respect than the
captain, who gave time, his own blood and that of his son in
the defense of country. Afflicted with infirmities, largely re
sulting from exposure in the field, he has tilled his farm since
the war, save as he held the government position of collector
of customs in Pultneyville, which place he filled for seven years.
No door in Wayne county swings open to an old soldier any
more easily than that of the captain's house, and a G. A. R.
button is an open sesame to the best that he possesses. Unless
illness prevents, he is always present at the county and regi
mental reunions, and when he rises to speak he is sure of at
tentive listeners, for every one knows that he has something to
say, and that he will say it. He belongs to the Post of the G.
A. R. which bears the name of his boy slain in battle.
He is a brevet major, having received that title from Andrew
Johnson on account of his bravery at Sailor's Creek. He retains
with a deal of pride, every bit of which is pardonable, a letter
from Governor Fenton transmitting the commission, and the
same is reproduced here.
State of New York, Executive Department.
Albany, Nov. 8, 1866.
Brevet Major Chauncey Fish.
Dear Sir : I have the pleasure to transmit herewith a brevet
commission, conferred by the president in recognition of your
faithful and distinguished services in the late war.
In behalf of the state, allow me to thank you for the gallantry
and devotion which induced the conspicuous mention by the
General Government. I feel a lively solicitude in all that re
lates to the honor and prosperity of the soldiers of the Union
army, and especially those who advanced its renown while de
fending the cause of our common country.
Very respectfully,
R. E. FENTON.

PERSONAL SKETCHES.

419

Perhaps the signature of Edwin M. Stanton affixed to the
commission gives as much, if not more, pleasure than that of the
president. Mrs. Fish has preceded her gallant husband to the other
world and to the society of the sons who went even earlier, but
seven children are yet here to enjoy the favor in which their
father lives. Whole-hearted, devoted, persevering, honest, Cap
tain Fish survives, a magnificent type of the American citizen
soldier. Cyrus E. Fitch. — One of the merry boys who kept the camp
in good humor, or at least did his part towards it, was "Cy"
Fitch of Company A, and when at later dates his brother,
George, his cousin, Irving, and his uncle, Allen, appeared, "those
Fitches" were frequently referred to. They were a good lot,
from the youngest, George, up to Uncle Allen, who acknowl
edged to forty-four years. Irving was killed at Cedar Creek,
and has the peculiar distinction of a headstone in Winchester
National Cemetery, while his body, with another memorial, is
buried in Wolcott. George and the uncle have both answered
to the roll-call on the other side, since the war.
Cyrus, living in that part of Butler near the Wolcott line,
where he runs a farm with fruit-growing and evaporating at
tachments, has affiliations with the latter town, but he has been
an office-holder in his own town, being the supervisor for at
least two terms.
He is one of the regular attendants at the Wayne county
veterans' reunions, and if anything is to be done to help along
the cause of the Ninth, he is ever ready to assist.
Dennis E. Flynn. — There was no jollier officer in the regi
ment than the lieutenant and later captain who first saw the
light in the city of Cork, Ireland, 1833. An aunt brought him
to America when he was but eight years old. He worked upon
a farm near Auburn till he was about eighteen; then he went
to Port Byron and clerked in a grocery till 1857, when he moved
to Clyde, starting a grocery business for himself. The next
year he was married to Miss Mary Cavanaugh of Port Byron,
and in Clyde, 1862 found him.
He raised a company for the 111th, but for some reason he did
not go. Then came the next regiment, and he went in, as we
know. His merry laugh drove away many a fit of the blues,
and if he himself was ever down in the mouth, he took good care

420 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
that others should not know it. His presence was better than
medicine. He got a little touch from a bit of a shell at Cedar
Creek, but was not seriously hurt.
Coming home from the war he resumed business in Clyde,
but was carried off by disease in 1873 at the age of forty. Mem
bers of his family continue to reside in Clyde, justly proud of the
record made by the husband and father in the days when every
man was expected to show his colors.
Charles A. Ford. — Resident in Homer, N. Y., our comrade
has long suffered from an illness that makes him a member of
the "Shut-in Club," but his brain is active, and he writes ex
cellent verse, bits of which are found in the history. He also
has vivid memories of war-times and draws out on occasion very
pleasant pictures of men and events of 1864 and '65.
He was born in Genoa, N. Y., Sept. 12, 1844, but came, when
a child, with his parents to Homer. Had the privileges of Cort
land Academy, but at sixteen years of age began learning the
harness-making trade. Resumed that work when he came home
from the war. . Was married in 1866, and has reared a family
of five children. He has been a member of the village board
and town clerk, and he says of himself,
"Am waiting now for orders
To cross another stream;
Whose further shore
Shall know no more
Of war's fierce lurid gleam."
Philip R. Freeoff. — This genial officer of Company I was born
in Gimbsheim, Germany, May 21, 1820. He had had military
experience in his native land, though he came to America in
1839 or 1840, locating in Auburn, which continued to be his
home. He was a horticulturist, and his greenhouses and
flowers at one time formed a great attraction. He was one
of the directors of the Gas Company in 1850 ; was an alderman
in 1853 and '54; was a member of the Willard Guard, and at
the time of his enlistment was an officer in the state's prison in
Auburn, his fellow keepers giving him a sword and equipments ;
the sword, beautifully engraved, was carried by him through
out the war. It is to-day a highly-prized object to his grandson
and namesake.
During the campaign of 1864 he was injured in one eye, losing
the sight of it. His military record is told in that of Company

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 421
I. Coming home in May, 1865, he lived till March 1st, 1879.
when he passed away after a short illness.
Oscar J. Frost. — In Company A we always called him ser
geant, and, possibly, some of his Red Creek fellow citizens do
now, but the time, really long, seems brief since the Wolcott
farmer did his part in war-duties. He was an active, alert sol
dier; he is just as ready and persistent now as a man of affairs
in his native town.
David P. Gamble. — A veteran of Company B, Comrade Gam
ble resides in East Palmyra, and makes a specialty of essential
oils, peppermint, spearmint and tansy, those peculiar products
of Wayne county.
He is thoroughly interested in all that pertains to the pros
perity of the regiment.
William E. Greenwood. — Lieutenant Greenwood of Company
B represented western Wayne in the Assembly in 1872. He died
in West Walworth Aug. 5, 1898, aged sixty-eight years.
Truman Gregory. — Captain Gregory, who received his death-
wound at Cold Harbor, having received the commission of
major, though he was not mustered, was a Baptist minister, born
in Vermont; at least so claimed.
He was preaching in Ontario Centre when he began to raise
Company B. Before this he had preached in Richville, St.
Lawrence county, beginning in 1852; thence going West, he was
in Lee, Avon and Berwick, Illinois, till 1856, preaching and
farming. Again in 1857 he was in Richville, where he remained
two or three years.
Apparently he came to Wayne county soon afterwards, and
the remainder of his life is written in the history of the regi
ment. His son, Lyman, was in the same company with him
self. Daniel B. Harmon. — One of the vivid pictures in memory's
gallery is that of Lieutenant Harmon at Monocacy, on the brow
of the hill, to which we had fallen back, with his sword in air,
rallying his men with the cry, "Rally round the flag, men." It
is pleasant to remember him in that attitude.
He was born in Great Barrington, Mass., but when small
came with his father to York state. In the same company
there were three brothers, Daniel, William and Alfred. He was
by trade a house carpenter, but having excellent musical ability,
he gave much time to that art. He taught many a singing-
school in Wayne county.

422

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Some time after the war he moved away from Rose, and held
several contracts for work on the Erie canal. At the time of
his death, April 30, 1896, he was postmaster at Palmyra, He
was in his sixty-second year, having been born July 11, 1834.
Truman S. Harvey. — Lieutenant Harvey has made Auburn
his home for many years, though he was born in the town of
Shelby, Macomb county, Mich., May 25, 1840. In 1849 he became
a resident of Red Creek, and in 1852 went to live with an aunt
in Cayuga county. In 1857 he had the benefits of Red Creek
Academy, and in 1859 began learning the carpenter's trade.
His military record appears in connection with Company A.
Since the war he has worked at his trade ; in a shop ; and for the
last eleven years has been foreman of the woodworking depart
ment of the New Birdsall Company, makers of engines, thresh
ers and saw-mills.
He is blessed with a wife and four children; is a member of
the Wall Street Methodist Church, and for twenty-eight consec
utive years superintendent of its Sunday-school.
Benjamin F. Hoffman. — Residing at Johnson's Creek, Niagara
county, our former Company G sergeant and D lieutenant tills
the soil and claims that his life is without incident, — all the
more useful, possibly, for its very quiet.
Charles W. Hough. — The record of Captain Hough was not
duplicated in the Ninth. He enlisted as private in Company E,
and then rose through the grades of corporal, sergeant, sergeant
major to 2d and 1st lieutenant, and was mustered out from the
2d Heavy Artillery as captain.
He saw long service on the staffs of Generals J. A. Haskin
and O. B. Wilcox of the defenses. He is now the treasurer of
the Ward Plow Company of Batavia, N. Y.
Orson Howard. — Captain H. was twenty-four years old when
he was mustered in as 1st lieutenant of Company I, and thus
was twenty-six when his young life was poured out at Cedar
Creek. He had been captain of Company E but a few days
when the ordeal came. The portrait of the young officer clearly
indicates qualities which made him a popular comrade, one of
whom the friends of long ago always speak in the highest terms.
A Company E man who was in the battle thus describes the
final hours of the officer: "In the afternoon when we left our
works, we advanced nearly to a cleared lot, when some one said
the rebs were charging down upon us, so we halted a short time,

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 423
but found it to be a false alarm, and on we went. We soon came
to the cleared field. Somehow or other I lost track of the regi
ment, which was working to the right. The field was fenced
with a stone wall, at least one was on the east and south sides;
also on the south side was a lane with stone-lined sides. It was
here that I came across Captain Howard, who was in the same
predicament as myself. Together we passed upon the west side
of the stone fence and halted. The rebel main line was or
seemed to be in this lane. About this time we thought our lines
were flanking the rebs out of the lane. As we came up to it
we found a great number of the enemy, who gave up as pris
oners. We took their guns and told them to keep quiet till the
skirmish line came up, and they would be taken care of.
"Then the captain and I, being nearly alone, bore off to the
left over uneven ground towards the pike. We passed down
quite an incline to a valley, which had a rail-fence across it
running parallel with the pike. I should say the pike was
thirty rods away from us square to the front. On the pike was
a rebel battery, which I think was using one gun, firing directly
at us, and had killed and wounded some of our men. Captain
Howard said it was of no use for us to charge that battery
alone, and as there were other men approaching, he said
we had better wait till they came up, so we sat down behind
the said fence. He sat down flat with his feet towards me. I
was on my knees loading my gun when at my right I saw a
letter torn into bits. I picked it up, and asked him to read it
while we were waiting, but he replied that he would put it in
his pocket and read it when he had more time. As he was in
the act of putting the letter in his pocket, a shot from the bat
tery on the pike took off his head. He simply fell back, straight
ened out, and that was all. I took from his body whatever of
value there was and later gave the same to Major Snyder. The
shot which killed the captain was next to the last that the
battery flred, for our men swept it in a few moments later."
S. Augustus Howe.— The captain is one of the few men who
came from Massachusetts and served in New York regiments,
and then went back to stay with the friends of his boyhood. He
was born in Gardner July 2d, 1839, and attended the local
schools. He was a good private soldier and officer, being mustered out
as a 2d lieutenant in the 24th New York Infantry, and then,

424

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

when his service there was over, he helped raise Company L of
the Ninth, and it is in this service we are chiefly interested.
His boys always speak in the highest terms of him.
After the muster-out, coming back to the Bay State, he has
had numerous indications of local appreciation, holding many
town offices, and in 1891 and 1892 he was a member of the Leg
islature. For several years he has been a special county com
missioner. He is a member of the firm of Howe Bros., flour and
grain dealers.
The following lines from one of his "boys" indicate pretty
well how they regarded him :
"You would always know 'Howe,'
You could always tell
His sharp, quick voice as he calls to L,
'Fire low there, men!
Don't give it away,
Now give them a volley; there, that was well.' "
— Charles A. Ford, Homer, N. Y.
Ralph Hunt. — Hunt was a student and teacher before enlist
ment, and he returned to go through Genesee College, to teach
several years and then to study law. His home is in South
Evanston, Ills.
Edwin L. Huntington. — Company L had many Oswego county
men, and among them one who had done good service in the
24th, and late in 1863 was ready to go in again. His friendship
for S. A. Howe, a regimental friend who had cast in his lot in
the Company L venture, may have been a motive. At any rate
Comrade H. made one of the very best soldiers possible, and
as 1st sergeant was transferred to the 2d Heavy, whence he
was finally mustered out a 2d lieutenant.
An active business man in the town of Mexico, Oswego
county, he has been an efficient supervisor of the same.
James H. Hyde. — The second captain of Company A has en
joyed the privilege of living among his old soldiers ever since
the war. One of the most active in securing enlistments for the
company, he lives to-day to enjoy the memories of duty done
at a critical moment in the nation's life. He was born in Huron,
the only son of Harlow, who was himself the son of Dr. Zenas
Hyde. The latter was one of the very first settlers in the old
town of Wolcott, having moved there from Massachusetts in
1807. He was also the first physician in these parts.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 425
When the town of Wolcott was divided in 1826, the residence
of the doctor fell within the borders of the new town of Huron,
and here the remainder of his life was spent, though his prac
tice extended over all of northern Wayne. Harlow Hyde, son
of Dr. Zenas and the father of Captain James, during a long
life held responsible and honorable positions in both Huron and
Wolcott, dying May 30, 1895, in his ninety-third year.
James H. Hyde was born in Huron about seventy years since,
and there he had the beginning of his education, and the war
found him a tiller of the soil. Entering heartily into the forma
tion of the new regiment, he was rewarded with the 1st lieuten
ancy, and with the company he bravely marched away. He
was ever a quick, decided officer, and one who wore well with
his men. An accident in childhood deprived him of the sight
of an eye, but no soldier in Company A could ever see that this
in any way conflicted with the faithful performance of his
duties, and at the Battle of Cold Harbor he was one of those
who found a gun a good weapon for use. He was one of the
first to enter the enemies' works and to capture several of the
rebels. When the extension of the regiment to heavy artillery sent
Captain J. W. Snyder to a majority, our Lieutenant Hyde be
came captain, and thus he went with his company through all
its service up to and including Cedar Creek, where he was
wounded in the arm. Late in 1864 he resigned and came home
to resume the arts of peace. Since the war his home has been
in Wolcott, and here his children were reared.
For several years he was an attache of the Legislature in
Albany; latterly he has been the court-crier in Lyons. He is
a devoted member of the G. A. R., and is always found at the
Wayne county reunions. The war is a great many years behind
him, but he has the consolation of thinking that when the strife
was waging he had an honorable part in it.
Vincent A. Kenyon. — The last adjutant of the Ninth is a
Cayuga county dweller, and makes Dresserville his home, being
engaged in the tannery business. His father was a Quaker,
but the son was just as good a fighter for all that, possibly a
little better.
The veteran association has no more loyal nor enthusiastic
member. He is a store-house of information concerning the reg
iment, and had his efforts availed, the locked-up treasures in

426 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Washington, in the way of records, had been opened for our
use. James D. Knapp. — Now living in Cato, was born in Wolcott,
N. Y., but when a child moved with his parents to Huron, and
thence to Rose. Had the advantages of the common schools,
and later learned the blacksmith's trade and worked with his
father till August, 1862, when he enlisted in Company H.
In time, attention to duty secured for him promotion to a
sergeantcy, and then he became 1st sergeant, and next received
a 2d lieutenant's commission for meritorious conduct at Cold
Harbor. After the war he settled in Cato, and as his health would not
permit the resumption of his trade, he has been a farmer during
the intervening years. A Republican in politics, he has been
constable, tax-collector and justice of the peace several terms.
Henry P. Knowles. — The exceedingly efficient quartermaster
of the Ninth was born in Butler May 29, 1828. In 1840 he re
moved to Lyons, and was living there when the regiment was
raised. He had been town clerk, and was a member of the vil
lage board when he enlisted.
His successful discharge of duties in the Ninth resulted in
his promotion to be commissary of subsistence of volunteers.
He was mustered out as brevet major for meritorious services.
His later services were on the staff of General Seward.
Oct. 1st, 1865, he took up his abode in Palmyra. For two
years, 1872-'73, he was supervisor, and in 1892 was president of
the village.
Since 1866 Major Knowles has conducted a banking business
under the name of H. P. Knowles & Co.
Sullivan B. Lamoreaux. — "Colonel" Lamoreaux having gone
to the West soon after the war has, in person, been somewhat
out of the range of the Ninth veterans, but in spirit he is just
as enthusiastic as ever. He was born in Rose, N. Y., Feb. 22d,
1842, son of Joel and Elizabeth Lamoreaux. The name surely
suggests French origin. During the boyhood of the future
major, the family removed to Throopsville, and thence he en
listed in Company F. His military record appears in that of his
company and with the field and staff.
Very flattering things are said of Colonel L. by the men who
served with him, and they are the best calculated to judge of
an officer's merits and demerits. This is what a Company F

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 427
man writes: "It seems to me that I can see him as I write;
just as he looked at Cold Harbor, at Cedar Creek and at Peters
burg. I always kept my eye on him in battle. If I could only
see Captain Lamoreaux I was happy." Any man of whom a
follower would write the foregoing more than thirty years after
the scenes named, must have had the right stuff in him.
Colonel Lamoreaux has lived for a number of years in Cleve
land, O., and latterly his business card appears in connection
with that of M. A. Hanna, and surely every survivor hopes that
such proximity means unlimited prosperity to their old-time
comrade, for they remember that the American Warwick has
the reputation of having made William McKinley president.
Charles D. Lent. — Beginning his service in Company B as
sergeant, he came home as 1st lieutenant, in command of H
company. He was born in Sodus, 1832, of New Jersey extrac
tion, and for the most part has resided in the town ever since.
He has been farmer, station-agent, produce-dealer, and lastly
the landlord of a temperance hotel in Wallington. He has been
deputy sheriff, commander of Dwight Post, and a useful mem
ber, generally, of the community.
Almanzo W. Litchard. — He is a native of Sparta, Livingston
county, Nov. 12, 1841, though his boyhood was spent in Alle
gany county. Sept. 28, 1861, he enlisted in Company D, 86th
New York Infantry. He did his duty under McClellan and
Pope, and on account of illness was discharged Jan. 18, 1863.
Again he enrolled himself, this time Sept. 1, 1864, and joined
the regiment, Company E, at Winchester, on the 23d day of that
month. He was with the regiment all the time till we reached
Danville, when he was taken ill, which resulted in his discharge
June 20, 1865, a little in advance of that of the most of his
fellows. Comrade Litchard is a farmer in Rushford, Allegany county,
and in 1897 was elected to the Assembly, and the compliment
was repeated in 1898 by the largest majority ever given a candi
date in that district.
Alpheus K. Long.— This veteran was one of those who grew
tired of the regiment's long stay in the defenses, and though
a very efficient member of Company F and a corporal, he took
the examinations for a commission in the colored service, and
was successful, receiving his commission as 2d lieutenant Dec.
13, 1863, being assigned to Company H, 7th Infantry. He saw

428 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
service with the regiment in Florida, South Carolina and Vir
ginia till Oct. 20, 1864, when he was detailed to serve on the
staff of General Ulysses Doubleday of the 2d Brigade, 3d Divi
sion, 10th Army Corps. He came out of the service as brevet
captain, having received special mention for meritorious service
with his regiment in the field. He was in many engagements,
and no doubt is willing to testify that the colored troops can
and will fight.
After the surrender of Lee, he went with his regiment to
Texas, about the time that Maximilian was making himself
obnoxious there, and did effective duty till he was mustered
out Oct. 13, 1866. He was twice wounded during these arduous
years. For some years resident in Manayunk, Penn., he has latterly
been addressed in Pocomoke City, Md.
Archibald Lybolt. — After the regiment- released him, Lybolt
resumed his studies, and after a course in Union College was
graduated from one of New York city's medical schools, and is
now an M. D. in the upper part of the island.
Warham Mudge. — Our first chaplain was born May 12, 1822,
in Guilford, Chenango county, N. Y., and received his theologi
cal instruction in Hamilton Theological Seminary, now Colgate
University. He was of excellent New England stock, being
the seventh generation from Jarvis Mudge, who came to Boston
in 1638.
As a Baptist preacher, he served in Kendall, Tonawanda,
Carlton and Palmyra, coming to the latter place in 1855, and
here he was when the 138th was raised, and thence he departed
to the chaplaincy of the regiment. When the rigors of the cam
paign had so far impaired his health as to lead to his resigna
tion, he returned to Palmyra, and there remained till 1866, when
he went to Wilson, Niagara county. Subsequently he held
pastorates in Belfast, Nunda, Olean, Deposit, Georgetown,
Boonville, Parma and Richburg, where he died, Dec. 31, 1891.
His body was buried in Olean.
The home life and relations of those whom we know are
usually interesting, and it is in place to state that the future
chaplain was married June 12, 1849, to Miss Sarah Ross of
Medina, N. Y., and that to them were born three sons, Seldon
J., Charles, and Linus T. The first named, a physician located in
Olean, had attained a high place in his profession, but was cut

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 429
off seemingly too early by death, April 19, 1899. He was a man
meriting and receiving the thorough respect of the entire com
munity. The second son is a bookkeeper in the employ of the
great James Pierce Leather Company, with salesrooms in Bos
ton and tannery in Olean. The third son is a lawyer and resides
in North Tonawanda, N. Y. The mother survived the death of
her husband only one week, dying the 6th of the following Jan
uary, and was buried by his side in Olean.
From the chaplain in uniform, a familiar figure in camp, to
the village clergyman, attending to his regular round of duties,
the distance seems long, yet that is just the course followed by
the large number of those who wore the shoulder-straps of
religious advisers during the war. When the boys were well
and hearty, few of them were particularly anxious for his
ministrations, but when pain and anguish wrung the brow,
then they welcomed him as a bearer of glad tidings. And now
as the century nears its end, we lay a wreath of verbal immor
telles upon the grave of our chaplain, looking forward to a
happy meeting beyond this turbulent world in a land that hath
not wars nor even rumors thereof.
Michael McNulty. — Dwelling in Onondaga Hill, N. Y., he was
born in Ireland in 1837, and, when ten years old, came to this
country, locating in Lafayette, Onondaga county. In 1856 went
to his present place of residence, working on a farm summers
and attending district school winters. In 1857, '58 and '59 he
took an academic course in Fort Plain Seminary, and then re
turned to the farm, where he has been ever since, save for the
interruption of the war.
Leaving his farm and its interests in the care of his brother,
he went into the service in 1863, coming home a 2d lieutenant.
The lieutenant is another of those who, as farmers, labor at the
very foundation of prosperity.
Hiram L. Munn. — A Lyons boy, he went out with Company
D as a corporal, was promoted sergeant, and was one of those
who fell into rebel hands at Monocacy.
After the war, he followed Horace Greeley's advice and went
West. He is in the lumber business with his son in Ames,
Iowa. Eben W. Newberry. — For a great many years Mr. N. has
been a resident of Wolcott, but he went to the war from Huron,
where he was born, and where he received the beginning of his

430 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
education, going thence for a time to Falley Seminary in Ful
ton, N. Y.
Returning from the war, having been a prisoner after Monocacy
for a time, he essayed farming in his native town, afterwards
removing to Wolcott and starting a furniture business.
He has been prominent in local politics, figuring conspicuous
ly in the councils of the Republican party. A devoted G. A. R.
man, he has held high positions in the Keeslar Post, and has
been president of the Wayne County Veteran Association.
Crandall J. North. — Only a lad when the tide of war swept
him into Company F, he came out of the strife a corporal, with
an excellent reputation for doing his duty and for a manly,
upright life.
Feeling it his duty to preach, he prepared for college, and
then went down to Middletown, Conn., where in Wesleyan Uni
versity he pursued a four years' course, graduating in 1877.
Since that date, he has held a foremost place in the ranks of
the New York East Conference of the Methodist church. At
the end of a five years' stay as presiding elder of the New Haven
district, he is now, 1899, enjoying a well-earned rest in a foreign
trip, his wife, who was Miss Mary M. Evans of Auburn, accom
panying him.
John Oldswager. — A survivor of Company M writes : "He was
of German nativity, and by trade was a carpenter and joiner.
He won his promotion by good, honest service, and was a young
man when the death-shot came. His head was shot away, all
except the face, which was spread out flat on the ground. He
was buried a short distance from where he fell, under a large
locust tree. I was talking with him the night before Cedar
Creek, and he said he should not live to go through another
battle. He was a good, brave soldier."
Subsequently when the National Cemetery was laid out in
Winchester, his body was removed to it, and now lies with
those of so many of the Ninth who there
"Under the sod and the dew, await the judgment day."
Francis N. Parish. — Among the enterprising citizens of
Churchville, town of Riga, Monroe county, N. Y., is this former
member of Company M, and one of the most devoted adherents
of its veteran organization, as may be seen by reference to its
records. He moved to the village immediately after coming home from

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 431
the war, and, seemingly, he has had to do with its interests ever
since. The people made him a trustee of the village at once,
and for thirteen years kept him in that office, during eight of
which he was president. For five years he was town clerk, and
was once elected justice of the peace, though he declined to
serve. Since 1893 he has been a notary public.
He is the proprietor of the Cottage Hotel, and if a picture
counts for anything, said hotel must be a comfortable place in
which to stay. At any rate it will pay all Ninth veterans to
look their comrade up when they pass his way.
William I. Parrish. — Every man who recalls the days of his
army life will readily picture the manly form of Company M's
last captain. His figure, reproduced in bronze, might stand as
a type of the ideal American soldier. He was born in Alexan
der, N. Y., Feb. 18, 1834. He had excellent early advantages
in the way of education, and had been a member of Hamilton
College. The war found him tilling ancestral acres, and when the call
came to him, he went in as a sergeant in the 22d Independent
Battery, later to become M Company of the Ninth. His promo
tion through the lieutenancies was deserved and in every way
he made an excellent officer.
Coming home from the strife, he became sheriff of Genesee
county, serving in this capacity from 1869 to 1872, when he
went to Shiloh, Iowa, remaining till 1886, thence removing to
Grundy in the same state, which was his home till a short time
before his death.
He was married, in 1858, to Miss Sarah Squires of Alex
ander. Coming back to the old Genesee home in Alexander
he died there May 30, 1891. When we who survive the fray lay
our tribute of flowers on our comrade's grave each recurring
Memorial day, let us remember the man who served with us
and whose patriotic spirit returned to God who gave it on this
the day sacred to the memories of Rebellion years.
Enos T. Pimm.— The most of the men in Rose who served in
the Ninth were in Company H, and Comrade Pimm has long
held a foremost place in the township. As the landlord of the
principal hotel of the village, he became one of the best-known
men in eastern Wayne.
While illness has latterly compelled his withdrawal from
some of his former activities, he still has a firm hold on public

432 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
affairs. He is and has been for years very active in the local
Grand Army Post.
Theodore D. Quick. — Now a citizen of Garland, Penn., a gen
eral grocer and provision dealer, was born in Owasco, N. Y.,
in 1826; with his father went to Ann Arbor, Mich., 1836; in
1839 came back to New York; in 1843 went to Syracuse and
learned the cabinet-maker's trade, and in 1855 removed to Nash
ville, Tenn., and was there when the war broke out. Before the
fall of Donelson, he was twice subjected to the draft ordeal, the
first time escaping ; he was a member of the Rock City Guards,
and on the second trial he was drawn, but the confusion inci
dent to the capture of Donelson gave the enemy little time to
look after their conscripts.
In 1862 he returned to Syracuse, and there enlisted in Com
pany L, attaining the rank of 2d lieutenant. After the war, he
went back to Tennessee and remained till 1874. Taking up his
residence in Garland in 1876 he has been there since.
B. Frank Raze. — The projected history of the regiment has
had no more enthusiastic supporter than this veteran of Com
pany G, who enlisted in December, 1863, one of the youngest
men in the Ninth, though the record puts him at the minimum
age. While his home is in Buffalo, for a number of years he
has been connected with the office of the comptroller of the
state of New York in Albany.
Samuel C. Redgrave. — For several years Lieutenant Red
grave has been the leading hardware dealer in the village of
Lyons. He was born in Baltimore April 17, 1836, but early
came here with his mother on his father's death, that she might
be near her brother, William N. Cole, editor of a Lyons paper.
Receiving what the local schools had to give, young Redgrave
worked on a farm, and was clerk in stores till the year 1862,
when he helped raise Company D, going out as its 2d lieutenant.
After his return from his army service, he entered the employ
of Aaron Remsen in the hardware trade, and in 1865 married Miss
Malvena Remsen, daughter of his employer. A partnership
was formed with Mr. Remsen in 1866, which continued till the
latter's death in 1866.
Stephen Reeves. — No man did more faithful service for his
whole term than this Marion representative in Company B.
Never boastful, he was always ready when there was something
to be done.

HON. ALFRED S. ROE.
Company A.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 433
The war found him a farmer, aud when the war permitted
him to return to peaceful pursuits, he again took up the im
plements of husbandry. Among those of his company killed at
Winchester was Alvin Andrews, one of his nearest friends.
Later he took as wife the widow of this comrade slain.
He is one of the men who give character to a community.
Henry J. Rhodes. — One of the men very likely to be seen at
every reunion of the Ninth is Captain and Brevet Major Rhodes
of Auburn, and it is always a pleasure to receive a grasp of his
hand and to hear his cheerful voice.
It is a long time since he won his laurels on Old Virginia soil,
but he wears them well; they will never fade.
Lewis B. Rice. — If Comrade Rice had remained in Company
B, it is probable that he would have had enough active service,
but he tired of fort-building and went off to direct colored troops.
He was an ambulance driver when the change came. Begin
ning as 2d lieutenant, Company K, 1st U. S. C. T., he saw service
in eastern Virginia and North Carolina; was promoted to 1st
lieutenant, and in the spring of 1865 was discharged.
Staying two years in Sodus, he then removed to Port Huron,
Mich., where he has since resided, engaged in the nursery busi
ness. No survivor of the Ninth takes any more pains than Com
rade Rice to attend the reunions. He was a good soldier, and
is just as good a citizen.
Alfred S. Roe. — Born in Rose, N. Y., June 8, 1844, he is the
son of the Rev. Austin M. and Polly C. (Seelye) Roe; the father
is of a family long resident on Long Island; the mother is of
northeastern New York and Connecticut extraction. He was
prepared for college at Falley Seminary, Fulton, N. Y., but did
not enter college till after the war. He was teaching school in
Middleville, Herkimer county, the home of his father, a Method
ist minister, when he enlisted.
When the war was over, he came home, and, in September,
1866, entered Wesleyan University in Middletown, Conn., where
he was graduated in 1870. From 1870 to '75 he was principal
of the Ashland, Mass., High School; from '75 to '80 a teacher
in the Worcester High School, and the following ten years was
principal. In 1890 he made a short trip to Europe, and in 1891 was
elected to the Massachusetts Legislature, serving in the House
the following four years and the Senate the subsequent three.
28

434 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
He has written many pamphlets and books on historical sub
jects, and frequently speaks on such matters before lyceums,
schools, etc. His home since 1875 has been in Worcester, Mass.
Samuel A. Sabin. — The first surgeon of the Ninth was born
in Ontario, N. Y., and had the educational opportunities of the
town and of Walworth Academy, until he entered the medical
department of Michigan University, where he was graduated in
1857. Coming back to York state, he began to practice in Mac
edon, soon came to Palmyra, and thence went into the army,
as all survivors of the regiment well remember.
Late in 1864 he suffered from a very severe attack of typhoid
fever, which left him in a sadly weakened condition, so much
so that he resigned his commission and resumed his profession
in Palmyra, but the stalwart form never regained its old-time
vigor, and he fell an easy prey to pneumonia April 3d, 1871,
dying in the village of his adoption, and is buried there. His
widow resides in Rochester.
William H. Seward, for fifty years the most noteworthy fig
ure in central New York; the father of our lieutenant colonel
on leaving for Washington; the man with whom our own regi
mental name was connected; ever devoted to our interests, —
no one will doubt the propriety of entering his name in this list
of Personals.
From 1838, when he was first elected governor, defeating the
famous William L. Marcy, for more than thirty years no face
was better known in the Empire State than that of the Sage of
Auburn, the author of the Irrepressible Conflict. That he did
not become president of these United States was one of the
rulings of fate, where the obviously logical candidate was set
aside through the rule of expediency.
Born in Florida, Orange county, May 16, 1801, he was grad
uated from Union College, Schenectady, in 1820, being one of
the boys who received a start in intellectual living under the
care of Dr. Eliphalet Nott. Having been admitted to the bar in
1822, he settled in Auburn the following year as a law partner of
Elijah Miller, the first judge of Cayuga county, whose daughter,
Frances Adaline, he married in 1824. He entered at once on a
career in public life, extending to 1869. He was prominent in
every public measure, and in the light of subsequent events it
seems that he was nearly if not quite always right. His ad
dresses during these vigorous days of his early life are grand
tributes to his thought and eloquence.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 435
He was an original Whig, and was the first governor elected
by that party. While thus prominent in political measures, his
advocacy of educational, liberal and every broad-minded meas
ure marked him the most conspicuous man of his day in the
Empire State. The leading features of his life are too well
known to be repeated here, but his defense of the negro, Free
man, for the murder of the Van Ness family, while it may have
alienated some of his immediate supporters, gave him a repu
tation far beyond the borders of his native state. While he made
many addresses and delivered many eulogies, perhaps nothing
from his lips excelled his words before the New York Legisla
ture in 1848 on the death of John Quincy Adams. It is risking
very little to state that nothing in the whole range of eloquence
is grander than the peroration of that address, wherein he con
trasts Napoleon and our Old Man Eloquent. When Seward
died, Charles Francis, a son of John Quincy Adams, delivered
the address in behalf of New York's most distinguished son,
before the Legislature; but though magnificent, it did not reach
the pinnacle on which Seward's words rested.
Defeated at the Chicago Convention of 1860, on the success
of the Republican party in the following November, he became
the leader in Lincoln's administration, remaining to the end of
Andrew Johnson's term as secretary of state. After ending the
affairs of office, he made a journey around the world, August,
1870, to October, 1871, a most entertaining account of which
was afterwards published.
How he felt the assassin's knife in the April tragedy of 1865
every one knows. How thoroughly his family was identified
with the prosecution of the war may not be so generally under
stood. His eldest son, Augustus, a graduate at West Point,
served in the Mexican War, and during the Rebellion was a pay
master, receiving the brevet rank of colonel when the war
ended. The second son, Frederick, was assistant secretary with
his father, and was one of the victims of the conspiracy at the
close of the struggle. The third son, William H., Jr., needs no
introduction. Aside from the priceless services connected with the admin
istration during the war, Secretary Seward left a legacy whose
value grows more and more evident as the years advance, viz.,
the purchase of Alaska, one of the steps whose successors shall
lead to the uniting of all North America. Had his plan for the

436 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
acquirement of the Danish West Indies and Samana Bay also
carried, there had been no war with Spain over Cuban affairs.
He died at his old home Oct, 10th, 1872, and his body rests
in Auburn's beautiful cemetery by the side of that of his loved
wife. In recognition of the great services rendered to the nation by
this great statesman, for many years in Madison square, New
York, a heroic statue in sitting posture has claimed and re
ceived the admiration of beholders. A generation nearly has
swept around it in the whirl of business, and generations to
come will pause to speak of the man who, in a manner second
to none, laid the impress of his hand upon the affairs of this
great people. But to those of central New York there is a figure
which they like better, the one which stands hard by his old
home, in the city which knew him best, standing near the
house which sheltered him and his loved ones, with uplifted
hand seemingly saying, as he did say of slavery, "It must be
abolished, and you and I must do it." It is this figure that is
taken to go along with the many others in this story of men
whom he knew and fellowshiped, that our children may know
what manner of man he was, whom traitors1 deemed worthy to
suffer with Lincoln.
William H. Seward, Jr., the first lieutenant colonel of the
Ninth, was born in Auburn June 18, 1839. While his older
brothers were educated, one of them at West Point, the other
in Union, our officer had his instruction at the hands of private
tutors, under the care and direction of his mother, but the
process, sometimes considered enervating, in his case does not
seem to have had that effect, for we surely never saw the time
when he was not an energetic leader of his men. This course
in his education may have been necessitated by early troubles
with his eyes.
His career as an officer of the Ninth it is quite unnecessary
to rehearse here, but of his life after leaving us much may be
said. Commissioned brigadier general for gallantry at Monoc
acy, it was a strange decree of fate that he should be stationed
so near his former command, though not in the same depart
ment, being in command of the 1st Brigade, 3d Division, De
partment of West Virginia. While he took some of his friends
from the regiment with him to Martinsburg, it is a fact that
so often did duty call our officers and men to that place, he must

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PERSONAL SKETCHES. 437
have been able to see a soldier from the Ninth any day he chose.
Hia military family included our former quartermaster, H. P.
Knowles, and Lieutenant George R. Watson, his brother-in-law.
Though there did not come to General Seward the same kind
of service that he had done so well when with his old regiment,
he was by no means consigned to a bed of roses. Martinsburg
became a great depot of supplies, and guerrillas held him in full
survey. It speaks volumes for his affectionate remembrance
of his old boys that he asked, through the secretary of war and
the adjutant general, that the Ninth might be assigned as a
part of his command, This was on the 3d of October, and the
request was referred to General Sheridan, but the latter at
Winchester had observed some of the fighting qualities of those
same lads, and this is his reply: Woodstock, October 7, 12 M.
General E. D. Townsend,
Assistant Adjutant General.
Your dispatch informing me of the assignment of Brigadier
General Seward received. I think that the Ninth New York
Artillery had better be kept with the fighting force.
P. H. SHERIDAN,
Major General Commanding.
Hence it was that the Ninth stayed with the "fighting force"
and had the glory of Cedar Creek and Appomattox, but General
Seward's good intentions demand our gratitude.
As we know, he resigned his commission early in June, since
the war was over, and there was nothing for him to do in the
line of peace. He returned to the calling he had entered upon
before the war, and began over again the useful life he has
continued to lead through the intervening years. Blessed with
an abundance of this world's goods, he has taken pleasure in
making others happy through its judicious employment. Dur-
ing the winter months, a stranger could not be long in the city
of Auburn without being asked by some one, not the general
by any means, to visit the Free Reading Rooms opened and
maintained by him, not for any particular class nor under vexa
tious restrictions, but for any and all who choose to use, always
provided that they behave themselves when in the rooms. It
is hardly likely that such a system can be duplicated in the
land. The rooms are large, comfortably furnished, warmed, and
well equipped with reading matter adapted to the needs of the
average reader.

438 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
In addition to the banking-house so long conducted by the
general, he is a director of the American Express Company, and
was one of the chief promoters of the Southern Central Rail
road, now a part of the Lehigh System. He is interested in local
history, being one of the founders of the Cayuga County Histor
ical Society, and is also its president. He is president of the
City Club, Auburn; vice-president of the Auburn City Hospital
and of the Cayuga County Savings Bank. He is a trustee of
Wells College at Aurora, and of course wears the bronze button
of the G. A. R. with the rosette of the Legion of Honor. Through
his descent from Colonel John Seward, his great grandfather,
he is a member of the Sons of the Revolution, and in New York
city he maintains membership in the Union League and Trans
portation Clubs.
While always an active member of the Republican party, he
has held no political office, wherein it is safe to say that the
public has been the loser. In 1884 his friends pressed his
candidacy before the convention, but unsuccessfully, for the
gubernatorial nomination. Let us think that if he had been nomi
nated he might have succeeded Grover Cleveland. In 1888 he
was an elector at large, and presided over the college which
cast its vote for Benjamin Harrison.
It is an' interesting item for those who think that the sons
of well-to-do and noted men seldom have the spirit of self-help
themselves that, when eighteen years old, or in 1857, when his
honored father was in the very zenith of his power, this the
youngest son chose to go to Albany and there to serve for two
years in a hardware store, thus acquiring a business training
to be had in no other way. Then as private secretary to his
father, at that time United States senator, he had an invaluable
opportunity to form the acquaintance of prominent men in
Washington. Altogether he had a good preparation for the
work he did during the war, especially for the mission to Lou
isiana, in the early winter of 1863, alluded to in the paper pre
pared by Mrs. Seward.
The home life of a man is an excellent index to his character,
and General Seward's marriage in June, 1860, to Miss Janet M.
Watson of Auburn has been an extremely happy one. With
the first child, Cornelia, or "Nellie," born the day before the
regiment left the city, the "boys" feel quite well acquainted,
for they dated their letters from her camp for some weeks. As

REV. CHARLES L. SHERGUR,
Company F.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 439
Mrs. Frederick I. Allen they might have some difficulty in rec
ognizing her. Then, too, she must have changed some in the
intervening generation and more. There is another William H.
Seward, Jr., now, a lawyer and banker in Auburn. There is also
a younger daughter, Miss Frances Janet.
Retaining the old Seward homestead, where his father so long
dispensed free-hearted hospitality, General Seward maintains
the traditions of the family and the house, for the same goes
back of the governor and secretary, since it is a mansion built
by the distinguished lawyer and judge, Elijah Miller.
To the survivors of the regiment, the presence of the general
at their gatherings is always a pleasure. His words, though not
many, are carefully weighed and are ever listened to with ap
proval. It is said that in manner of speech he much resembles
his noted father. Be this as it may, the men of the Ninth re
member him for what he is and what he was. That at this
time, thirty-four and more years since the end of the war, our
colonel is still meeting with us, and likely to do so for years
to come, is a blessing for which all are grateful. Every veteran
grasps his hand with cordial greetings.
Charles L. Shergur. — The veteran who for a number of years
has been chaplain of the Ninth's association of survivors is a
Methodist preacher in the Wyoming Conference, and though the
rules of his denomination require him to live now here, now
there, his place of residence never disturbs for a moment the
thoroughness of his devotion to his old army friends.
When he was living down below the Pennsylvania line, he
came to the reunions just the same, and we may expect, as long
as the association continues and Comrade Shergur can raise
a dollar, just so long he will be on hand each recurring year.
Few if any men, among the survivors, have brighter recollec
tions of the days rapidly becoming obscured in the lapse of time.
He came into Company F from Lansing, one of the small num
ber that Tompkins county contributed to the regiment. Enter
ing the company as private, he rose steadily till he was mus
tered out as 1st sergeant; he also enjoys the honor of a brevet
2d lieutenancy for conspicuous bravery on the field.
His home now is Caton, Steuben county.
Frank A. Sinclair. — Veterans of the Ninth who go near Mott
ville, Onondaga county, should look in on Captain Sinclair, who
has long conducted there a prosperous chair-making business.

440 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
He was b&rn in 1834, a son of James Sinclair, who, a native of
Paisley, Scotland, 1804, came to this country and died in Skan
eateles, 1892.
Mr. Sinclair began his business in 1859, and left it during
the war interval of 1862'65, for he went out as a private in
Company I and came home the captain of L. On his return, he
resumed his business, and by dint of honest work and faithful
attention he has built up a reputation second to none. For su
perior workmanship and quality of goods he possesses numerous
medals, diplomas, etc., awarded at many exhibitions.
In politics he is an out-and-out Prohibitionist. He is one of
four brothers who went into the service and all came out again.
James W. Snyder. — In all the labor of preparing this volume,
nothing has occasioned greater regret than the utter failure to
secure direct information from the last commander of the regi
ment. Thefe is no survivor of the Ninth who has not in his
heart the most kindly sentiments for the gallant officer who
always led to win success. It mattered not whether it was his
first or last fight; he went in like one born to rule. But his
"boys" have seen very little of him since war's din was over,
and for this their regret is all the greater.
He was born in the town of Wolcott, N. Y., in the Red Creek
portion thereof, and there resided till the war sent him to Wash
ington. His career in the army the preceding pages have al
ready told. Coming home in 1865, he remained in his native
county for a time and then went, possibly, to Buffalo, where
he engaged in the flour and grain business, and for a time was
a member of the Board of Aldermen, serving in this capacity
when Grover Cleveland was mayor of the city.
He was next heard of in Oklahoma, where he was treasurer
of the city of Guthrie. An attack of the "grippe" two years
since made sad inroads upon his strength, leaving a legacy of
rheumatism, and as the colonel is now turning seventy year's
of age, he does not recuperate as he did in his younger days.
Irvin Squyer. — Many years have passed since the first cap
tain of Company K went to his eternal home, but many of us
love to think of his heroic endurance and the grand record that
he made. His educational advantages were those of the district
school, and at an early age he began learning the millwright's
trade with his father, with whom he labored many years. One
of the jobs that they did in workmanlike manner was the put'

PfiRSONAL SKETCHES. 441
ting in of a wheel for the Auburn Woolen Mills, when it was
supposed that the mills tvould have to be shut down, but they
did not, for the night enabled the workmen to make all the nec
essary changes, and the day work went on as usual.
He was working in a mill when the war epidemic overspread
the land and infected him and his neighbors. We are told that
the Ira infection came from a fervid address made in Hannibal
by Colonel D. C. Littlejohn, and we well know how eloquent
he could be on occasion. "It seemed as though every one was
beside himself that night, each saying to the other, 'I'll go if
you will.' About 12 o'clock Sunday night there was a rap at
the door, and, when Opened, there stood four of our best young
men, and one of them said, 'Irvin, if you will go as our captain
we will go to the war.' The horses were gotten out, and away
they went to the eastern part of the town. Tuesday thirty men
started for Auburn, returning Saturday. Sunday night the peo
ple of the town presented the captain with a sword and belt,
and Monday all went back to Auburn, where in September they
were sworn into the service of the United States."
Mrs. Squyer was with her husband for some time in the de
fenses, having very pleasant experiences in Forts Gaines, Mans
field and others, but when the grand marching orders came she
had to return to the North. It was at Cold Harbor that the
captain received the wound which laid him off so long. Colonel
Seward had sent his orderly for a report, which the captain
made upon a piece of paper, not leaving the works; but the
man speedily returned saying the colonel wanted a report in
person. Captain Squyer rose and started, but had gone only a
few steps when he was hit by a sharpshooter, the ball badly
wounding the right shoulder. He was carried back on a
stretcher and when he reached the commander, he said, "Col
onel, I am here for orders."
While his friends advised him to go to the hospital, he de
termined to go home, and did so, reaching that blest spot wholly
unannounced. Let Mrs. S. tell how he was received: "I knew
nothing about his coming nor his wound till he stepped on the
veranda, looking like a ghost. He had on his fatigue coat, with
one sleeve empty. I could not get out of my chair, and when
I could speak it was to say only, 'Oh, Irv, where is your arm?'
He threw back his coat and said, 'Here it is,' having it in a
sling. He was put to bed and kept there for quite a while, and

442 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
I dressed his wound three times a day, from then till September,
when two large pieces of his flannel shirt were taken out with
three pieces of bones."
He started back to the regiment in October, and on his arrival
found a major's commission awaiting him, but he was not mus
tered for several weeks. He was home on leave of absence when
Lincoln was assassinated, and, thinking the war practically
over, he resigned his commission May 17, 1865. Till his death,
April 16, 1879, he continued to reside in Ira. His widow, Mrs.
Ellen Squyer, resided for several years in her old home, but
latterly has made her home with her daughter in Athens,
Greene county, N. Y. The veterans of the Ninth remember
with pleasure the interest that Mrs. S. takes in the annual
gatherings of the men who were so long associated with her
husband. She holds the veteran soldier in the highest esteem.
Alfred E. Stacey. — He is a native of Elbridge, where he
now resides. He was born Jan. 20, 1846, and through all his
life has been a citizen of this town. Not only has he been a
citizen in the ordinary sense of the word, he has been active,
energetic, straightforward, and always identified with the
town's best interests.
He was one of a family of seven children, all of whom were
reared in Elbridge, and all remained in the county except
James, who went in 1867 to Missouri. As a school-boy Alfred
E. was educated in Munro Collegiate Institute, under the
instruction of Prof. T. K. Wright, one of the foremost educators
of the country.
Upon quitting school at sixteen years of age, he accepted a
clerkship with A. Wood & Sons, general merchants in Elbridge.
After a service of two years in that capacity, he resigned, and
enlisted as a private in the 9th Heavy Artillery, serving till the
close of the war. He was the youngest member of his company,
and in point of size probably the smallest, as he then weighed
only 106 pounds. Three of his brothers were also his comrades
in the Civil War: Anthony in the 19th N. Y. Infantry, after
wards changed to the 3d Light Artillery, after serving his term
of enlistment and being honorably discharged, reenlisted in
Battery L, 9th Heavy Artillery, with George, a member of the
same company; and James, in the 15th N. Y. Engineers.
Alfred, Anthony and George were with Sheridan at Cedar
Creek, and afterwards with General Grant at Petersburg and

HON. ALFRED E. STACEY,
Company L.

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 443
Appomattox. As a result of this service at Cedar Creek, Mr.
Stacey received two gunshot wounds.
After his discharge from the army in 1865, he returned to El
bridge, and again entered the Munro Collegiate Institute. While
Alfred E. Stacey has been active and successful in building up
and conducting his business affairs, he has also given much
valuable time and service in the interest of public affairs. Every
plan that has been on foot for the betterment of the town and
county has found him in hearty sympathy with its advance
ment. As a result of his energy and regard for the best interests
of Elbridge, Mr. Stacey has built up the industries of the vil
lage not only by increasing those of his own, but by inducing
other manufacturers to locate at that place.
In politics Mr. Stacey has always been an earnest, active Re
publican, always zealous in its interests, and ever faithful to
the trusts that the party has imposed upon him. He has been
honored at home by having been chosen as president of the
village as well as its clerk for several terms. He has also been
its postmaster, and was instrumental during his term in
introducing the money-order system, and increasing its mail
service, thereby more than doubling the receipts of the office.
Few state or county conventions have been held in recent years
in which he did not represent his town as delegate.
In 1886 he was elected to represent the 2d Onondaga District
in the Assembly, and was re-elected in 1887 by a majority of
nearly 600 over Hon. W. B. Kirk, after one of the hardest con
tests on the part of his opponent that was ever waged in the
district. During his service as member he was successful in
securing the passage of the law which removed the necessity
of indigent soldiers or sailors of the Civil War applying to the
poormaster for aid, or being confined in the poorhouses of the
state. This equitable and just law is still in force in New York
state. Mr. Stacey was in the Assembly at the time Frank His-
cock was elected United States senator, and, like Grant's famous
"306," he was one of the eleven who stood firm and unwavering
till it resulted in his candidate's election. He served upon the
Committee on Railroads, and was also chairman of the Com
mittee on Charitable and Religious Societies.
The Anthony Stacey Post, G. A. R., named in honor of his
brother, was organized through Mr. Stacey's efforts, and it was
through his influence it was located in Elbridge. Mr. Stacey

444 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
has taken a deep interest in this organization. He is also a
prominent member of the Odd Fellows, in which lodge he has
occupied all the chairs; has been its noble grand, and elected
to represent the lodge in the state conventions.
Nelson F. Strickland. — Company B's 1st lieutenant, at the
muster-in, was a native of Walworth, a son of one of the very
first settlers, born Nov. 14, 1815. In 1840 he moved to Adrian,
Mich., where for six years he was foreman in an iron-foundry.
Next he was on a farm in Adrian for three years; coming back
to Wayne county in 1853, he built a saw-mill in Lincoln, town
of Walworth, which he ran till 1857, when he returned to the
home farm, and was on that till 1862.
In 1865 he was instrumental in getting a post office at Lin
coln, and was made the first postmaster. He held this office
till 1872, when he again went back to the old farm where he
was born and where he died April 29, 1885.
In 1840, October 21, he was married to Miss Lodema Sherman
of East Palmyra, N. Y. He was a member of the Baptist
Church, and in 1879 was superintendent of the Lincoln Free
Baptist Sunday-school.
Philip Sturge. — Lieutenant Sturge, long resident in Weeds*
port, N. Y., writes that, by the order of Major Snyder, com
manding, he was made adjutant Oct. 14, 1864; but served as
such only a few days, since he was severely wounded on the
19th day of October at Cedar Creek. He thus alludes to the
seemingly fatal wound received as above: "The ball entered in
front of the left ear, passed under and out between the large
cords in the back of the neck. The later-day explanation of this
is that a Johnnie Reb gave it to me in the neck."
George W. Swift. — Now a clergyman, he is able to say that
during his enlistment he was never sick a day nor absent from
service once. Enlisting as private, he held non-commissioned
rank, and then was commissioned 2d and 1st lieutenant, for
some time commanding his company.
After the war, he continued his militant services, though not
with carnal weapons, since he is and has been for several years
pastor of the Baptist Church in Stockton, Cal.
Though very far removed from his former haunts, he retains
all his old-time interest in the Ninth.
Edward P. Taft. — The first major of the regiment was born
in Lyons Sept. 10, 1832, the son of Newell and Jane (Sterrett)

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 445
Taft. The father was an early settler of Lyons, coming thither
from Goshen, Mass., in 1816, and soon established an iron-
foundry, the first in the county and one of the most successful
in the state. Possessed of great bodily vigor, he was a business
man for more than forty years, dying in 1874, having survived
his son. That he was of good New England lineage is evident
in the name that he gave this son, for Edward Payson, the
Portland (Maine) divine has had as many boys among Congre
gationalists and Presbyterians named after him as John Wesley
ever had among the Methodists.
Possibly the father intended that his preacher-named son
should himself be a minister, since he sent him to the Mills
School in South Williamstown and at Easthampton, Mass., to
be prepared for college. He entered Williams College in 1851,
having as classmates many men subsequently to achieve dis
tinction, among them John J. Ingalls, to be, at a later date,
U. S. senator from Kansas, and James A. Garfield was in the
class immediately following. Ill health, however, compelled
him to leave college in 1853, but Williams, in recognition of his
services for the nation, later conferred upon him, in course, the
degree that he would have had could he have stayed to the end.
He entered business with his father and so continued till
September, 1862, when he threw himself into the plan of rais
ing a new regiment in the district. His zeal and success in this
enterprise secured for him the position of major, and as such
he went with the regiment to the Capital. In the sequence of
events, he succeeded Lieutenant Colonel Seward in his rank,
and later was promoted to the colonelcy of the Ninth, though
he did no more active service with the regiment. In all that
makes the soldier, Colonel Taft excelled, and no one was earlier
than he upon the breastworks at Cold Harbor, cheering his men
to their deadly work. He was with us through the tedious
marching to Petersburg and on the excursion to Monocacy,
where, on the afternoon of the 9th of July, he rode his horse
into the thickest of the fray, and in the performance of duty
was wounded, so that he not only lost his leg, but his health
was permanently shattered.
At first borne to the hospital in Frederick, he suffered ampu
tation of the wounded leg, but illness resulting from the same
he was never able to return to the regiment; instead he served
in New York as a member of several courts-martial. Follow-

446 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
ing his discharge from the service in 1865 he was appointed U.
S. consul at San Juan del Sur, the Pacific seaport of the city of
Nicaragua, but fever incident to the climate soon seized his
already weakened body, and he was obliged to return, and in
his old home, Lyons, he died Jan. 30, 1867, still a young man.
His body rests in the beautiful cemetery of that village.
Colonel Taft was married Oct. 8, 1856, to Miss Josephine L.
Avery of Waterville, N. Y., who with a son and two daughters
survived him. Mrs. Taft afterwards became Mrs. Medbury of
Ballston Spa, N. Y., where she now resides.
Our colonel did not survive the war long enough to have time
work in his face and figure the changes so noticeable among his
associates and followers who are alive to-day. He went to his
grave with all the indication of young manhood that we must
ever associate with the major and lieutenant colonel whom we
saw on parade, with whom we marched, and whose place in the
battle-line we vividly recall. With unblanched hair, his body
has been sleeping in Lyons burial-ground, though the leg shat
tered in battle, years before with other and kindred clay, was
resolved into its elements, near the field where the wound was
received, which won for him in the college records the words,
"Pro patria mortuus est," or, "He died for country."
Frank Tallman. — In the slip of a boy who came down to the
defenses in the spring of 1864, no one would have thought there
was the future tireless statistician and painstaking secretary
of the regiment in the coming years, but such was the case.
He was born in Scipio a couple of years later than his enlist
ment-paper would indicate, and though he was not large, when
the rebels gobbled him at Monocacy, he was smaller still when
he saw York state again after a winter's stay with the Johnnies.
Looking on his solid figure to-day it requires a stretch of imag
ination as well as confidence in Frank's word to realize that
he was sent home weighing only seventy-eight pounds. Dan
ville was not a good boarding-place.
For many years he labored at the paper-hanger's trade in
Auburn, but ill health has prevented his doing much in that
way recently. If, however, any one wishes an answer to a ques
tion concerning the Ninth, just drop Tallman a line.
Abram H. Vanderbilt. — Arcadia, whose chief village is New
ark, was not one of the towns contributing largely to the Ninth,
but some good men live there, and among them is Comrade

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 447
Vanderbilt, who is one of the regulars at reunions, and is the
president of the association in this current year, and his village
is to entertain the gathering.
The enterprise of the town is proverbial, and the very best
of meetings is expected.
Charles S. Warn. — Few regiments furnished more officers
for colored regiments than the Ninth, and one of the men thus
placed was Comrade Warn, who had been advanced from pri
vate to 1st sergeant of Company D. He was a Newark boy,
one of the farmers' lads that Wayne county furnished in such
abundance, born there March 18, 1843.
Jan. 29, 1865, he was ordered to report to the headquarters
of the 13th U. S, Colored Troops in Smithland, Ky.; served with
the same till the following November, when the regiment was
mustered out. He was offered a similar place in a regular
regiment then raising, but declined. He was recognized as an
excellent drill-master in both infantry and heavy artillery, and
an expert marksman.
With the exception of seven years spent in Port Huron, he has
lived in Capac, St. Clair county, Mich., of which he has been
county clerk for six years.
George R. Watson. — Lieutenant Watson was twenty-two
years old when he was mustered in as 1st lieutenant in 1864.
The most of his service was upon the staff of General Seward.
He resigned in June, 1865. Soon after the war he went to
Detroit, engaging there in the hardware business. Afterwards
he became the agent for the "Brush Estate Heirs" of that city,
discharging successfully his duties till failing health compelled
his return to Auburn, where, in his mother's house, he died Oct.
26, 1891.
Joseph Welling. — The first colonel of the regiment was a
resident of Lyons at the time of organization, actively engaged
in the practice of law. It is extremely unfortunate that more
specific data are not at hand concerning his early life, but dili
gent search in several directions has been absolutely bootless.
Seemingly, those who might were unwilling to impart informa
tion, and those whose dispositions were good had nothing to
give. In an obituary notice appearing in a Lyons paper near the
date of his death, it is stated that he came to Lyons from Clyde
in the early fifties, and immediately became prominent in his

448 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
profession. He was one of the prime movers in the resuscita
tion of Humanity Lodge of Free Masons, and was its first sec
retary. Later for eight terms he was the master. As stated
in the earlier pages of this volume, he had a very prominent
part in the formation of the 138th, and was always a popular
officer with the men. His age and long experience with men
gave him an excellent presence, and it would seem that the ac
tive campaign of his regiment ought to have resulted in fame
for the colonel.
As we know he accompanied the regiment only to Belle Plain,
and some recall seeing him and the lieutenant colonel going
down to the boat which bore them to Washington. It was our
last view of the graceful, pleasing officer, at least in regimentals.
He returned to Lyons and to the practice of his profession, and
very likely his leadership of the Wayne county bar was never
seriously disputed. Later he went to Rochester, or at any rate
opened an office there, and for a number of years was as suc
cessful as he had been in his Lyons practice.
As age crept upon him he felt its weight, and giving up his
practice both in Rochester and Lyons, he retired completely
from his old associations, spending the later years of his life in
Delaware, dying finally March 19, 1897, in a Philadelphia hos
pital. His age was given as seventy-six years, which would
practically agree with that stated in the muster-in roll of 1862,
where he was down as forty years old.
Colonel Welling was an exceedingly well read man, and pos
sessed a large and carefully studied library. As a member of
the social circle, few men were more popular. He had a bound
less source of wit and anecdote, making him the life of the
place in which he might find himself. His wife and daughter
who accompanied him to the camp near Fort Simmons won the
thorough respect of all. The latter, now Mrs. Lane, resides with
her widowed mother in Lyons.
Sidney J. Westfall. — Though he left an arm at Cedar Creek,
Comrade Westfall has made an exceedingly good county clerk
for old Cayuga, besides serving as loan commissioner for the
county and water commissioner for the city of Auburn.
Hiland H. Wheeler. — Lieutenant Wheeler began this life
in New York city June 26, 1845, though a considerable part of
his boyhood was spent in Butler, to which place his ancestors
had come early in the century, and of which his father, the late

BRV'T LT. COLONEL A. S. WOOD,
Commander N. Y. Dept. G. A. R„ 1898-186

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 449
H. H. Wheeler, was long an honored citizen. He had entered
Amherst College before his enlistment in Company A, and
when the war was over, he came back and finished the course
in the class of 1868. Afterwards he taught school in Vermont
and Massachusetts, was in Columbia Law School for a time,
and studied law with Gov. P. T. Washburn and Judge James
Barrett at Woodstock, Vt. Again he taught school, was in
business, was clerk in Superior Court, Chicago, and settled in
Lincoln, Neb., 1876.
There he has been assistant attorney general; department re
porter; clerk of Supreme Court, and state librarian. He was
assistant to the attorney general and had charge of the Land
Department of Idaho in 1890-'93. He is the author of the Com
piled Statutes of Nebraska, 1881 to 1899. He has seen a deal
of variety in life, but, apparently, is only a little older grown
from the very young man who was by the writer's side at
Monocacy. In 1885 he was married to Miss Grace, daughter of Chief
Justice O. P. Mason, and is the proud father of two sons and a
daughter. John W. Whitbeck. — Every one in Company A remembers
the Whitbeck boys. After the war, George wandered across
the sea and became a soldier in the British army. Dr. John W.
is a prosperous dentist in Watkins, N. Y., looking almost as
youthful as in the days of Virginia tramping. Evidently life
does not wear upon him as it does on some of his old associates.
Anson S. Wood. — "Colonel" Wood, one of the best known
figures in the county if not in the state, was born in Camillus,
Onondaga county, Oct. 2, 1834. His father, Alvin, was of Eng
lish descent, while the family of his mother, Fanny Wood-
worth, was from New England. In the childhood of Colonel
Wood, the family removed to Butler, in whose schools and in
the Red Creek Academy his early education was had.
He began the study of law in Syracuse in 1853 ; later he was
in the offices of C. D. Lawton and Judge L. S. Ketchum of
Clyde. During his law studies he taught school one winter, and
in the fall of 1855 he attended the Albany Law School; in De
cember of the same year he was admitted to the bar. Residing
in South Butler, he was elected, early in 1856, town superin
tendent of schools. In July of that year he removed to Lyons,
where he formed a law partnership with the Hon. William
29

450 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Clark, with whom and the Hon. DeWitt Parshall he practiced
law till September, 1862, also serving as town clerk in 1858
and '59.
When the 138th Regiment was projected, he was one of the
early volunteers and was commissioned 1st lieutenant of Com
pany D. Later he served as adjutant, and in May, 1863, he was
promoted to the captaincy of Company M, and was on detached
service in Elmira in connection with the draft rendezvous there:
for a time he was assistant adjutant general of the post. In
May, 1864, at his own request, he was returned to his command
and was with the regiment throughout the campaign upon
which it was then about entering.
In October he served on the staff of General J. B. Ricketts,
commanding the 3d Division, 6th Corps, and after the general's
severe wounding at Cedar Creek, Captain Wood continued on
the staff of General Truman Seymour as judge advocate, Sey
mour having succeeded Ricketts. Promoted major, he returned
to the regiment and partook of its vicissitudes till after the
surrender. Then considering the war over, he resigned his com
mission in May, 1865, with the brevet rank of lieutenant colonel.
Having purchased a farm in Butler, he immediately became
prominent in local affairs, and in 1866 served the township as
supervisor; the following year he was assistant assessor of inter
nal revenue, and continued to hold the position till the fall of '69,
when he resigned to accept the nomination for Assemblyman
in one of the Wayne county districts. He was elected, and the
following year he was sent again. In the mean time he had
resumed the practice of law, locating in the village of Wolcott.
In January, 1872, G. Hilton Scribner, secretary of state in
Albany, made Colonel Wood his assistant or deputy, and he con
tinued to hold this place for two years. Then with General
Joseph B. Carr, he served in the same capacity six years from
1879. In 1883 he was one of the secretaries of the Republican
State Committee. In 1885 he was unanimously nominated sec
retary of state, but with all the names on the Republican ticket
was defeated.
Then followed a single year in Albany, after which he re
sumed his law practice in Wolcott, having his residence on
Wood's Island in Port Bay. At present he is associated in his
profession with the Hon. George S. Horton. At all times Col
onel Wood has been a prominent man in local affairs. He has

PERSONAL SKETCHES. 451
been justice of the peace, trustee of the Wolcott Union School,
president of the village and supervisor of Huron. He has many
times been a delegate to Republican state conventions, and as
a speaker in political campaigns he has few rivals in popu
larity. His old comrades-in-arms believe that the future has
yet many honors in store for him.
He was a prime mover in the formation of the G. A. R. Post
in Wolcott, of which he has repeatedly been commander, and he
has been a member of the New York Department staff. In 1898
he received the honor of election to the command of the depart
ment, and for the ensuing year went up and down the Empire
State looking after the interests of this great organization, re
flecting credit upon himself and the regiment that had sup
ported him so loyally. For a number of years he has been at
the head of the Wayne County Veteran Association, which
holds an annual meeting in the month of August at Bonnicastle
on the eastern side of Great Sodus bay, and he has succeeded
in giving to the same a reputation which goes far beyond the
confines of the county. His extensive acquaintance throughout
the state has enabled him to present a large array of talent
from year to year, which the dwellers in this lakeside county
thoroughly appreciate.
William Wood. — "Major" Wood, as he is best known in regi
mental circles, was born in that part of the town of Butler
where the people go to Westbury for post office favors. His
father was Horatio N. Wood, long one of the most prominent
and respected farmers in the town. He sent the future major,
who was born Aug. 1, 1830, to Union College at Schenectady,
where he was graduated in 1856 along with the famous writer,
Fitz Hugh Ludlow, the late Maine Congressman Seth L. Milli
ken, and many others who in the intervening years have
achieved distinction.
The next year he was graduated from the Albany Law School,
and for two years practiced law with the Hon. Jacob E. Decker,
who in 1858, '59 and '60 was district attorney. But the genera
tions of soil-tillers behind him drew the lawyer back to the
paternal acres, and there the war found him. No man was more
efficient in the raising of Company G, and he was naturally its
first captain, a position that he worthily filled till he was called
to a higher grade. As major, commanding one of the battal
ions of the Ninth, he was ever conspicuous for his attention

452 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
to duty and for meritorious services. He came home with a
brevet lieutenant colonelcy; indeed Governor Fenton, Dec. 27,
1864, commissioned him as lieutenant colonel, but he was never
mustered. Since those troublous times he has dwelt quietly on the farm,
always finding time to attend the regular Ninth reunions and to
rear his family of five children. In 1886 his fellow citizens
thought so well of him that they sent him to Albany to repre
sent eastern Wayne in the Assembly.
To-day, in a green old age he looks back over times of peril
and forward to a happy reunion with the many who have pre
ceded him to fame's eternal camping ground. For ages, history
has sung the praises of Cincinnatus; America's story has that
worthy multiplied by thousands, and in that proud number we
include the name of our Butler farmer and lieutenant colonel.

"It is an old belief,
That on some solemn shore
Beyond the sphere of grief,
Dear friends shall meet once more.
"Beyond the sphere of time
And sin and fate's control,
Serene in changeless prime
Of body and of soul.
"That creed I fain would keep;
That faith I'll not forego.
Eternal be the sleep,
If not to waken so."

ROSTER. 453
CHAPTER XXX.
Roster of the Ninth New York Heavy Artillery.
The basis of the data given is the material, preserved in the
office of the adjutant general in Albany, described as trans
cripts of rolls now in the custody of the War Department,
Washington. To insure accuracy, every name should have been
compared with the latter collection, but this privilege, though
earnestly sought, was unqualifiedly denied. Each company roll,
however, has been submitted to the inspection of one or more
members of the same; in this way numerous corrections have
been made; notwithstanding this, they must still abound in
errors. The sole comment in sending out the compilation is
that under the circumstances it is the very best possible.
In the record of transferrals to the 2d N. Y. H. A. it is
thought unnecessary to name the company to which transferral
is made, it being remembered that Company I of the 2d was
made up of men from I, B and C of the Ninth ; K of those of K,
F, E and H; L took the "left overs" of L, A and G, in part,
while M had M, D and the remainder of G.
The original 138th N. Y. Infantry, with the exception of Com
pany B and the field and staff, was mustered into the U. S.
service Sept. 8, 1862. The exceptions, as above, were mustered
in September 9.
In taking data for officers, read the date following promotion
as that of Muster-in ; the next, or that of rank, explains itself.
For privates and non-commissioned officers the name is fol
lowed by age; next date of enlistment and town to which en
listment is ascribed; then date of Muster-in and period if for
less than three years (unless otherwise stated the soldier is
mustered in as private); next, any incident in service, as
wounded, taken prisoner, or promotion ; finally date and manner
of leaving service, thus :
Doe, John, age 20; enlisted Aug. 22, '62, Galen; mustered in
Sept. 8, Corp.; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; mustered out
July 6, '65.
To economize space, abbreviations are used as much as possible. Ob
servance of the following list will facilitate the reading of the rolls:
Corp. = Corporal; Sergt. = Sergeant; d. = died; dis. = discharged; k. =
killed; wd. = wounded; hosp. = hospital; M. O. = mustered out; trans.
= transferred; Vet. or V. R. C. = Veteran Reserve Corps; H. A. =
Heavy Artillery.

454 ninth new york heavy artillery.
Field and Staff.
colonels.
Joseph Welling, 40; Aug. 27, '62, Lyons; Sept. 9; rank from
Aug. 27; dis. May 21, '64.
William H. Seward, Jr., from Lieut. Colonel, May 22, '64; wd.
Monocacy, July 9, '64; promoted Brigadier General Sept.
13, '64.
Edward P. Taft, from Lieut. Colonel, Sept. 15, '64; M. O., Julv
6, '65.
James W. Snyder, from Lieut. Colonel, Dec. 27, '64; not mus
tered. LIEUTENANT COLONELS.
William H. Seward, Jr., 24; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 9; rank
from Aug. 22; promoted Colonel.
Edward P. Taft, from Major, May 22, '64; wd. Monocacy, July
9, '64; promoted Colonel.
James W. Snyder, from Major, Sept. 15, '64; M. O., July 6, '65,
Brevet Colonel, U. S. Vols.
William Wood, from Major, Dec. 27, '64; not mustered.
MAJORS.
Edward P. Taft, 30; Aug. 24, '62, Lyons; Sept. 9; rank from
Aug. 24; promoted Lieut. Colonel.
James W. Snyder, from Captain, Co. A, Jan. 18, '63 ; rank from
Dec. 30, '62; promoted Lieut. Colonel.
William R. Wasson, from Adjutant, Dec. 30, '62; dis. June 12,
'63.
Charles Burgess, from Captain, Co. F, March 9, '64; rank from
Jan. 8; dismissed Jan. 16, '65.
Truman Gregory, from Captain, Co. B, June 10, '64; rank from
May 21; not mustered; d. June 23 from wounds received at
Cold Harbor.
William Wood, from Captain, Co. G, Sept. 28, '64; rank from
June 28; wd. Sailor's Creek April 6, '65; M. O., July 6, '65,
Brevet Lieut. Colonel, U. S. Vols.
Irvin Squver, from Captain, Co. K, Dec. 15, '64; rank from Sept.
15; dis. May 17, '65.
Anson S. Wood, from Captain, Co. M, Feb. 9, '65; rank from
Nov. 28, '64; dis. May 16, '65, Brevet Lieut. Colonel U. S.
Vols.
Sullivan B. Lamoreaux, from Captain, Co. F, Feb. 28, '65; rank
from Feb. 3; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O.,
Sept. 29, '65, Brevet Lieut. Colonel, U. S. Vols.

WILLIAM H. SEWARD, JR.,
Brigadier General, Sept. 13, 1864.

FIELD AND STAFF. 455

ADJUTANTS.
William R. Wasson, 23; Sept. 3, '62, Auburn; Sept. 9; rank from
Sept. 3; promoted Major.
Anson S. Wood, from 1st Lieut., Co. D, acting from Dec. 25, '62,
to March 14, '63; Adjutant to June 5, '63.
William DeW. Pringle, served as Adjutant for some time, but
Albany gives no data.
William I. Parrish, also acted in the same capacity in the fall
of 1864.
Philip Sturge was acting Adjutant when wounded at Cedar
Creek.
Guy A. Brown was acting Adjutant later, and was succeeded by
Vincent A, Kenyon, from Co. E, acting Adjutant, Feb. 3-25, '65;
also April 2-May 19, '65; appointed Adjutant in June, '65,
and M. O. as Adjutant with the regiment.
QUARTERMASTERS.
Henry P. Knowles, 33; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 9; rank from
Aug. 19 ; promoted Commissary of Subsistence, U. S. Vols.,
Sept. 20, '64.
Lyman O. Comstock, from Co. C ; it is possible that Lieut. Com
stock filled the interval between Knowles and Barton as
acting Quartermaster, but the Albany record has nothing
to show for it.
Lewis Barton, from Co. D, Feb. 18, '65; rank from Feb. 3; M. O.,
July 6, '65. SURGEONS.
Samuel A. Sabin, 31; Aug. 23, '62, Palmyra; Sept. 9; rank from
Aug. 23; dis. Jan. 11, '65.
Dwight S. Chamberlain, from Assistant Surgeon, Jan. 20, '65;
M. O., July 6, '65. ASSISTANT SURGEONS.
Byron DeWitt, 35; Aug. 28, '62, Auburn; Sept. 9; rank from
Aug. 28, '62; dis. Aug. 19, '63.
Dwight S. Chamberlain, 26; Nov. 22, '62, Lyons; rank from Nov.
5 ; promoted Surgeon.
Byron L. Flower, 24; Sept. 19, '63, Washington; rank from Sept.
3; d. at Fort Simmons Oct. 24, '63.
John WT. Brandt, 40; Nov. 12, '63, Ontario; dis. Dec. 15, '64.
Otto Schultze, 29; April 5, '65, in the field; rank from March 16;
M. O., July 6, '65. CHAPLAINS.
Warham Mudge, 40; Sept. 9, '62, Palmyra; Sept. 9; dis. Sept.
26, '64.

456 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Stephen T. Devoe, from 1st Sergt., Co. G, Dec 17, '64; rank from
Nov. 17; M. O., July 6, '65.
NON-COMMISSIONED STAFF.
SERGEANT-MAJORS.
Lyman C. Comstock, 24; Aug. 17, '62, Fleming; promoted 2d
Lieut., Co. C.
Charles W. Hough, from Sergt., Co. E, March 30, '63 ; promoted
2d Lieut., Co. B.
Guy A. Brown, from Sergt., Co. M; no dates accessible; pro
moted 1st Lieut., Co. M.
John E. Dean, from Co. I, Dec. 15, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
QUARTERMASTER-SERGEANTS.
James H. Ellis, from Co. D, Sept. 8, '62; promoted 2d Lieut,
Co. E.
Edward Sincerbeaux, from Co. F, April 20, '64; returned to
company May 29, '65.
Lewis Smith, from Co. G, May 30, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
COMMISSARY-SERGEANTS.
John W. Rice, 23; Aug. 26, '62, Lyons; Sept. 9; promoted 2d
Lieut., Co. A.
Josiah T. Crittenden, from Sergt., Co. M, no date; promoted 2d
Lieut., Co. B.
William L. Jaquett, from Sergt, Co. E, Feb. 1, '65; M. O., July
6, '65. HOSPITAL-STEWARDS.
John F. Failing, 22; Aug. 16, '62, Arcadia; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Walter G. Duckett, from Co. K; served with 2d Battalion at
Fort Foote; dis. Aug. 10, '64, to be Hospital-Steward, U.
S. A. CHIEF BUGLER.
James Bivins, from Co. K, Sept. 8, '62; M. O., July 6, '65.
CHIEF MUSICIAN.
Jacob Sager, from Co. H, Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY A.
Capt. J. H. Hyde. Capt. G. W. Brinkerhoff.
Capt. J. W. Snyder, later Major, Lt. Colonel and Colonel.
?Egbert H. Cady. 2nd Lieut. T. S. Harvey. H. H. Wheeler, Jr.

*Killed at Cold Harbor. The first member of the regiment to fal] in battle.

COMPANY A. 457.
COMPANY A.
This company owed its origin largely to the force and energy
of its first captain, James W. Snyder, ably supported by Lieu
tenants Hyde and Campbell. August 6th, 1862, a large meeting
of citizens was held in front of the Red Creek Hotel, presided
over by Abel Lyon, and the Hon. T. M. Pomeroy of Auburn
spoke to nearly 2000 people. He was followed by the future
captain and later commander of the regiment, who made an
impassioned address. Nearly half the company was raised
there and then. Over $5,000 was subscribed to help on the
bounty fund, the ladies contributing liberally. The majority
of the men came from that part of the town of Wolcott known
as Red Creek. Almost all the others came from Huron and
Butler, to which towns Lieutenants Hyde and Campbell, re
spectively, belonged. Before the company left for the seat of
war, admiring fellow citizens gave to Captain Snyder a beau
tiful sword in testimony of their regard and appreciation.
CAPTAINS.
James W. Snyder, 32; Wolcott, Sept. 8, '62; date of rank, Aug.
9; promoted Major.
James H. Hyde, from 1st Lieut., Dec. 30, '62; wounded at Cedar
Creek; discharged Dec. 27, 1864.
George W. Brinkerhoff, from 1st Lieut., Dec. 27, '64; M. O., July
6, 1865; Brev. Major, U. S. Vols.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
James H. Hyde, 34; Huron, Sept. 8, '62; date of rank, Aug. 9;
promoted Captain.
Rufus M. Campbell, from 2d Lieut, Dec. 30, '62; discharged
Oct. 4, 1864; wounded at Cold Harbor.
George W. Brinkerhoff, from 2d Lieut., Oct. 25, '64; promoted
Captain.
John W. Rice, from field and staff, April 15, '64; M. O., July 6,
1865.
Benjamin F. Barnes, from Co. E, Dec. 27, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Rufus M. Campbell, 37; Savannah, Sept. 8, '62; date of rank,
Aug. 9; promoted 1st Lieut.
Jakeway R. Hoff, from 1st Sergt., Dec. 30, '62; promoted 1st
Lieut, Co. E.
George W. Brinkerhoff, from Sergt., Mar. 1, '64; wounded at
Cold Harbor; promoted 1st Lieut.
Edwin Nash, from Sergt; not mustered, commission not arriv
ing till after his capture at Cold Harbor; date of rank,
April 4, 1864.

458 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Benson Conklin, from Sergt, Mar. 17, '64; discharged Dec. 28,
1864.
William J. Hitchcock, 27; enrolled May 12, '65, in Va. from
16th N. Y. H. A.; date of rank, Sept. 12, '64; trans, to 2d
N. Y. H. A.
Henry C. Stern, from Co. G, Dec 16, '64; discharged Mar. 30,
1865.
Truman S. Harvey, from 1st Sergt, Feb. 28, '65; resigned June
14, 1865.
John C. Elmandorf, from 1st Sergt, Feb. 3, '65; M. O., July 6,
1865. NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abrams, William H., 24; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; died
Jan. 2, 1863, hospital, Washington.
Ackerman, Josiah, 36; July 28, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.
April 17, '65; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Ackerson, John, 28; April 28, '63, Wolcott; May 6; wounded at
Cold Harbor; dis. Mar. 18, 1865, hospital, Alexandria, Va
Allen, George W., 18; Feb. 15, '64, Onondaga; Feb. 15; trans.
June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Armstrong, Thomas J., 42; Dec. 31, '63, Butler; Jan. 4, '64;
wd. Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Arne, Fitch M., 18; Sept. 5, '64, Wolcott, 1 year; Sept. 15; M. 0.,
July 6, 1865.
Arne, Hamilton M., 44; Dec 21, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 21; dis. June
19, 1865, hospital, Rochester, N. Y.
Arne, William, 18; Aug. 4, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., Mar.
1, '65; wd. Cold Harbor June 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Atwater, Julius, 39; Jan. 4, '64, Genoa; Jan. 5; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; died Oct. 1, '64, Parole Camp hospital,
Annapolis, Md.
Ayler, Jacob, 24; Aug. 29, '64, Angelica; Sept. 6, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek Oct. 19, '64; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Bachman, Augustus, 18; Dec. 30, '63, Venice; Dec. 30; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64; died Oct. 19, Richmond, Va.
Backman, Reuben, 19; Aug. 12, '64, Fayette; Aug. 12, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, 1865.
Baldwin, Orrison, 27; Sept. 3, '64, Albany, 1 year; Sept. 6; no
M. O.
Ball, Ambrose, 32; Sept. 12, '64, Springtown; 1 year; M. O., July
6, 1865.
Bancroft, Albert W., 26; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis.
June 5. 1865.
Bancroft, Samuel E., 18; Aug. 2, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, 1865.
Barber, George D., 21; July 21, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8 Corp.:
dis. Jan. 20, 1863, on account of accidental wound received
in camp.

COMPANY A. 459
Barber, William, 23; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; deserted
Aug. 23, 1864.
Barnes, James, 23; May 14, '63, Palmyra; June 4; k. Cedar
Creek Oct. 19, 1864.
Barnett, Harrison, 21; July 2, '63, Wolcott; July 13; Corp.,
April 17, '65; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Barton, Danforth W., 28; Aug. 6, '63, Huron; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 25, '63; Sergt, Jan. 1, '65; prisoner, Monocacy, July
9, '64; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Barton, John S., 22; Sept. 16, '64, Ridgeway, 1 year; Sept. 16;
k. Cedar Creek Oct. 19, 1864.
Barton, John W., 35; Aug. 2, '62, Victory; Sept. 8; d. Feb. 23,
1863, Fort Reno, D. C.
Barton, Thomas J., 22; Aug. 5, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Barton, Wrilliam H., 32; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, 1865.
Bates, William E., 25; Dec. 30, '63, Niles; Jan. 4, '64; dis. May
13, 1865, hospital, Baltimore.
Beadle, Joseph O., 21; Dec. 25, '63, Savannah; Dec. 29; no M. O.
Becker, James G., 18; Sept. 3, '64, Groton; Sept. 3, 1 year; M.
O., July 6, 1865.
Becker, Jeremiah, 31; Sept. 1, '64, 1 year; Sept. 3; M. O., July
6,1865.
Beebe, Barney, 18; Aug. 1, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6,
1865.
Bell, Myron A., 21; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; no M. O.
Bickley, John, 40; Aug. 30, '64, Conquest; Aug. 30, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek Oct. 19, '64; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Biddlecome. Benjamin H, 36; Dec. 22, '63, Oswego; Dec. 22;
deserted Sept. 21, 1864.
Bigelow, Nicholas V., 18; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O..
July 6, 1862.
Billings, John, 40; Dec. 31, '63, Sodus; Jan. 4, '64; wd. Winches
ter Sept. 19 and Cedar Creek, Oct. 19, '64; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A. ; absent at time through wounds.
Black, James, 36 ; Sept. 3, '63, Galen ; Sept. 22 ; deserted June 5,
1864.
Black, Nathaniel, 23; Dec 21, '63, Palmyra; Dec. 21; Corp.,
Sept. 1, '64; trans. June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Blakeley, Charles A., 24; Aug. 7, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
9, 1863, Washington.
Blakeley, John R., 21; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Musician;
k. Cold Harbor June 1, 1864.
Blanchard, Charles W., 26; Dec. 18, Wolcott; Dec. 31; dis. May
26, 1865.
Blanchard, George W., 28; Dec. 29, Huron; Jan. 2, '64; trans.
June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Corp., Sept. 1, '65.
Blankman, Henry, 35; Jan. 4, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 4; deserted
Sept. 12, 1864.

460 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Booth, Storrs, 22; Nov. 28, '63, Galen; Dec. 7; dis. April 19,
1864, Fort Baker, D. C.
Boyse, Peter, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; no M. O.
Bracey, Martin, 20; Dec. 16, '63, New Haven; Dec. 16; no M. O.
Brefford, George A., 26; July 27, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; dis. May
16, 1865, hospital, York, Penn.
Brink, Reuben, 18; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, 1865.
Brinkerhoff, George W., 23; Aug. 4, '62, Wolcott; Aug. 9, '62,
Sergt.; promoted 2d Lieut.
Brown, Edward, 23; Feb. 25. '63, Victory; May 6; deserted June
25, 1864.
Brown, George, 34; July 6, '63, Palmyra; July 13; trans. June
27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.,
Brown, Gilbert, 27; Dec. 16, '63, Marion; Dec 30; wd. Snicker's
Gap July, '64; M. O., July 6, 1865, hospital, Rochester.
Brown, James S., 22; Aug. 19, '63, Sterling; Sept. 2; deserted
July 8, 1864.
Brown, Oscar, 18; April 18, '63, Victory; May 6; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; d. Feb. 4, 1865, Danville, Va.
Browning, Jacob, 42; May 28, '63, Galen; June 4; k. Sept. 19,
1864, Winchester, Va.
Brunney, John, 36; Aug. 6, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; dis. Dec. 3,
1863. Fort Simmons, D. C.
Brush, William C, 32; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; 1 year; M. O., July
6, 1865.
Bull, Albert H, 18; Dec. 9, '63, Marion; Dec. 9; wd. Cedar Creek
Oct. 19, '64; dis. June 27, 1865, hospital, Philadelphia.
Bull, Henry A., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Huron; Jan. 4; trans. June 27,
1865, 2d N. Y. H A.
Burdell, Lewis, 22; Sept. 7, '63, Galen; Sept. 22; trans. June 31,
1864, Signal Corps.
Burke, John, 29; Sept. 1, '64, Albany, 1 year; Sept. 3; M. O.,
July 6, 1865.
Cady, Egbert H, 18; Aug. 6, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; k. Cold Har
bor June 1, 1864.
Camfield, John M., no data found; prisoner, Monocacy, July 9,
'65; d. Dec. 15, 1864, Danville, Va.
Campbell, William, 23; Dec. 21, Palmyra; Dec. 21; trans. June
27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carnes, Edward L., 19; Dec. 5, '63, Moravia; Dec. 5; trans.
June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carpenter, Charles S., 42; Jan. 2, '64, Lyons; Jan. 2; dis. April
13, 1865, Washington.
Carter, George, 21; Jan. 4, '64, Geneva; Jan. 5; trans. June 27,
1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Casterline, Joseph B., 23; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 12, '64; wd. Cold Harbor; Sergt, Nov. 1, '64; M. O.,
July 6, 1865.

COMPANY A. 461
Champion, Henry, 18; Sept. 19, '63, Galen; Sept. 22; trans.
June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Chase, John, 18; Dec. 9, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 9; no M. O.
Church, Lewis, 34; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; wd.
Petersburg April 2, '65; M. O., July 6, 1865, hospital,
Rochester, N. Y.
Clarke, Ichabod, 30; Sept. 3, '64, Groton; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, 1865.
Cole, Peter W., 34; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; wd. Cold
Harbor June 1, '64; deserted July 28, 1864.
Cole, Robert, 22; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6,
1865.
Conklin, Benson, 26; Aug. 14, '62, Wolcott; Aug. 28, '62; Corp.,
Dec. 23, '62; Sergt., April 12, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Conklin, Morris, 29; Dec. 14, '63, Rose; Dec. 24; trans. June 27,
1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Conway, Daniel, 18; Aug. 7, '63, Fair Haven; Aug. 18; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cooper, George H., 18; Nov. 13, '63, Galen; Nov. 19; trans. June
27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cornell, Alpheus P., 42; Dec. 19, '63, Butler; Dec. 21; trans.
June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cortright, Chester, 20; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Nov. 1, '64; wd. April 2, '65, Petersburg; dis. June 26, 1865,
hospital, Philadelphia.
Crawford, Myron H, 23; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Sergt,
Oct. 1, '63; d. Aug. 24, 1864, Frederick, Md., of wounds re
ceived at Monocacy July 9.
Cresswell, William, 28; May 28, '63, Galen; May 28; no M. 0.
Crosby, Michael, 28; Aug. 13, '63, Wolcott; Sept. 2; trans. June
27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Curtiss, Horace W., 18; Sept. 19, '64, Albion; 1 year; dis. June
26, 1864, hospital, Philadelphia.
Dare, William, 30; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., no date;
d. Dec. 20, 1862, Fort Reno, D. C.
Delong, Thomas E., 21; Jan. 15, '64, Syracuse; dis. June 8,
1864, probably to receive commission in colored regiment.
Demott, Lewis, 39; Dec. 28, '63, Fayette; Dec. 28; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; dis. July 15, 1865, Annapolis, Md.
Derby, Albert, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Huron; Jan. 15; dis. June 9, 1865,
hospital, Philadelphia.
Deuel, John W., 32; Sept. 1, '64, Albany; 1 year; dis. May 31,
1865, hospital, Philadelphia.
Devinney, Newton, 23; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.;
dis. April 6, 1865, Elmira, N. Y.
Ditton, John, 21; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; deserted Oct.
25, 1862.
Dorsey, Michael, 34; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 4,
1864, Fort Simmons.

462 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Dudley, Henry, 31; Dec. 26, '63, Huron; Jan. 5, '64; wd. Cold
Harbor June 1, '64; dis. Nov. 28, 1864, Alexandria, Va.
Duffin, William, 44; Dec. 21, '63, Mentz; Dec. 21; no M. O.
Dusenbery, Cornell, 26; Aug. 7, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., Mar.
1, '65; Sergt., April 17, '65; M. O., July 6, 1865.
Dyer, David H., 19; Jan. 11, '64, Troy; Jan. 25; wd. Winchester
Sept. 19, '64; dis. Sept. 23, 1865, hospital, Hartford, Conn.
Easton, Charles A., 26; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.;
dis. April 16, 1864, Fort Baker.
Easton, David, 18; Jan. 5, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5; trans. Feb. 3,
1865, Co. E, 14 Vet. R. C.
Eldridge, Benjamin H., 44; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Jan. 5, '64;
prisoner, Monocacy, July 9, '64; dis. Sept. 21, 1865, Roch
ester, N. Y.
Ellsworth, George, 26; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland; Jan. 4; Corp., Sept.
1, '64; Sergt., Nov. 1, '64; wd. June 1, Cold Harbor and
Monocacy July 9, '64; trans. June 27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ellsworth had already served two years in Co. H, 23d N. Y.
Infantry.
Ellsworth, Orson, 43; Jan. 4, '64, Huron; Jan. 4; d. Sept. 21,
1864, Sandy Hook.
Elmendorf, John C, 24; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 25, '63; Sergt, April 12, '64; 1st Sergt., Aug. 9, '64;
promoted 2d Lieut; wd. Cold Harbor June 1, 1864.
Elmer, Albert, 21; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; k. Cedar Creek
Oct. 19, '64.
Elmer, John E., 29; July 31, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; wd. and
prisoner at Monocacy July 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Emery, Seward, 21; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. June 29,
1865, hospital, Philadelphia.
Field, Nathaniel J., 20; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year;
wd. Cedar Creek Oct. 19, '64; dis. July 28, 1865, El
mira.
Fitch, Allen H, 44; Dec. 26, '63, Butler; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, 1865, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fitch, Cyrus E., 18; July 26, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Fitch, George H, 18; Dec. 26, '63, Butler; Dec. 29; dis. June 14,
'65, hospital, York, Penn.
Fitch, Irving L., 18; Dec. 26, '63, Butler; Dec. 29; k. Cedar
Creek Oct. 19, '64.
Foster, John, 25; Dec 29, '63, Savannah; Jan. 4, '64; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64 ; dis. June 9, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Fox, George Dv 37; Dec 29, '63, Huron; Jan. 2, '64; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Frederick, John D., 26; Jan. 13, '64, Cortland; Jan. 13; Corp.,
April 17, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Frost, Henry C, 20; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 14,
'63, Fort Reno.

COMPANY A. 463
Frost, Oscar J., 18; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., April
12, '64; Q. M. Sergt, Sept. 1, '64; 1st Sergt., April 17, '65;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Gage, Barton, 25; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Aug. 26,
'64, Harper's Ferry.
Gage, John S., 18; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; deserted July
8, '64.
Gall, William, 31; Jan. 18, '64, Geddes; Jan. 19; k. Monocacy
July 9, '64.
Gardner, George M., 20; July 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; deserted
Feb. 18, '63.
Gibbs, William H, 38; Aug. 4, '62, Wolcott; trans. Mar. 1, '64,
82d Co., 2d Bat, V. R. C.
Gould, Grover, 29; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; trans, to Co.
A, from Co. B, 3d N. Y. H. A.; M. O., July 6, '65.
Graham, Alfred L., 28; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 12, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Green, Charles, 24; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; deserted Feb.
18, '63.
Green, Luther, 21; Mar. 4, '63, Victory; Mar. 19; dis. Mar. 29,
'64, Fort Baker.
Gruber,. Daniel, 20; Aug. 27, '64, Angelica; Sept. 6, 1 year; d.
Feb. 9, '65, in the field.
Guest, Joseph, 44; Dec. 4, '63, Lyons; Jan. 2, '64; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Guild, Esen Z., 21; Aug. 6, '63, Galen; Aug. 18; dis. Nov. 19,
'64, hospital, Washington.
Hall, Aaron F., 31 ; Dec. 14, '63, Savannah ; Dec. 15 ; Corp., Nov.
1, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hall, Andrew S., 28; Jan. 4, '64, Savannah; Jan. 5; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hall, Melvin, 32; Dec. 16, '63, Rose; Dec. 29; prisoner, Monocacy,
July 9, '64; trans. June 27, '64, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hannon, Mark, 29; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; wd. and pris
oner, Monocacy, July 9, '64 ; wd. Cedar Creek, Va., Oct. 19,
'64; dis. Aug. 2, '65, hospital, Rochester, N. Y.
Harvey, Truman S., 21; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
June 29, '63; Sergt., April 12, '64; 1st Sergt, Mar. 1, '65;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Hastings, William, 21; Sept. 12, '63, Lyons; Sept. 22; deserted
June 3, '64.
Hazard, Helon, 22; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Helmer, Afred E., 28; Dec 15, '63, Seneca Falls; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64 ; d. Oct. 15, '64, Richmond, Va.
Hermance, Benjamin F., 18; Sept. 3, '64, Groton; 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek Oct. 19, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Higgins, Charles, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Montezuma; Jan. 2, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

464 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Hill, Charles S., 25; May 30, '63, Fair Haven; June 23; dis. Jan.
22, '64, Fort Simmons.
Hinman, Enos, 43; Dec. 15, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 29; no M. O.
Hoff, Jakeway R,, 25; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Hoffman, William P., 24; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hollenbeck, Charles B., 17; Feb. 2, '64, Cortland; Feb. 2; dis.
June 30, '65, hospital, Washington.
Hollenbeck, David, 43; Jan. 4, '64, Parma; Jan. 4; no M. O.
Hollenbeck, Henry, 19 ; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland ; Jan. 4 ; wd. Peters
burg, April 2, '65; dis. July 8, '65, hospital, Washington.
Hollenbeck, William, 18; Feb. 2, '64, Cortland; Feb. 2; dis. June
30, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Hood, Arthur D., 18; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; Corp., April
17, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hosmer, Major F., 18; Sept. 13, '64, Groton; Sept. 13, 1 year;
wd. Cedar Creek Oct. 19, '64; d. Dec. 9, '64, Cold Water,
Mich.
Howard, Abner, 44; Aug. 30, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Hoyt, Evelyn, 26; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6,
'65.
Humphrey, Enos, 23; Jan. 1, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5, '64; dis. June
15, '65, hospital, Washington.
Hunt, James, 40; Aug. 1, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6,
'65.
Johnson, Horace A., 18; Dec. 28, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 29; d. July
28, '64, Frederick, Md., from wounds received at Monocacy
July 9.
Johnson, Lawrence, 18; Dec. 29, '63, Savannah; Dec. 20: dis.
Nov. 9, '64, for promotion 1st Lieut., 8th U. S. Colored H. A.
Johnson, Morris, 22 ; Dec. 21, Savannah ; Jan. 6, '64 ; Sergt, no
date; prisoner, Monocacy, July 9, '64; dis. June 9, '65, hos
pital, Baltimore.
Jones, Edward C, 34; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 4; wd. June 16,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
June, Charles, 25; Sept. 3, '64, Lansing; 1 year; M. O., July 6,
'65.
Keeler, James, 22 ; May 20, '63, Galen ; deserted June 15, '64.
Keeler, Joseph, 44; Aug. 15, '64, Ledyard; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Keeslar, Daniel C, 28; Aug. 2, '62, Huron; Sept. 8, Sergt.: dis.
as 1st Sergt., April 6, '64, Fort Baker. Vid. Co. E.
Ketchum, Alvah R., 21; Jan. 2, '64, Galen; Jan. 2; deserted
July 5, '64.
Ketchum, Newton, 19; Sept. 6, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
King, George D., 19; July 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. June
14, '65, Elmira, N. Y.

COMPANY A. 465
Knapp, Andrew, 41; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,
April 12, '64; d. Sept. 22, '64.
Knapp, Franklin E., 20; Dec. 21, '63, Savannah; Jan. 2, '64;
d. Sept. 15, '64, Fort Reno.
Koon, Alonzo, 23; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. June 30,
'65, hospital, Baltimore.
Lake, John R., 43; Aug. 6, '63, Lyons; Sept. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lakey, William H., 18; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Lawlor, James, 20; Oct. 6, '64, Tarrytown; Oct. 6, 1 year; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lefavor, James M., 40; Aug. 30, '64, Conquest; Aug. 30, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Lefler, Daniel, 36; Dec. 20, '63, Tyre; Dec. 23; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lemon, William, 35; Dec. 16, '63, Seneca Falls; wd. Cold Har
bor June 1, '64; dis. July 13, '65, hospital, Albany, N. Y.
Leroy, John, 21; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d. Mar. 13, '64,
hospital, Washington.
Lewis, Joseph, 28; July 11, '63, Galen; July 11; no M. O.
Longer, Cyrus B., 44; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; artificer,
Jan. 1, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Lough, John, 22; Jan. 13, '64, Macedon; Jan. 15; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lower, Luther, 25; Aug. 2, '64, Wolcott; deserted Feb. 15, '63.
Lynch, David T., 31; Dec. 25, '63, Auburn; Dec. 26; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64; dis. June 20, '65, Wilmington, Del.
McCabe, Daniel, 32; Oct. 10, '64, Rochester; Oct. 10, 1 year;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McCarthy, Edward, 18; Sept. 14, '63, Galen; Sept. 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McCarthy, Timothy, 36; Dec. 31, '63, Brutus; Dec 31; no M. O.
McCrady, David H., 28; Dec. 21, '63, Savannah; Dec. 28; no
M. O.
McCune, Peter, 23; April 7, '64, 2d Dist. N. Y.; April 7; deserted
May 18, '64.
McDougall, David, 37; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Musician;
M. O., July 6, '65. ,
McElvany, John, 22; Aug. 18, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Sept.
26, '63, Fort Simmons.
Mcintosh, Peter L., 29; Sept. 6, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
McNeal, Robert, 28; Dec 16, '63, New Haven; Dec. 16; wd. Cold
Harbor June 1, '64; trans. April 28, '65, 170th Co., 2d Bat.,
V. R. C.
McWiggin, Patrick, 27; Aug. 5, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., Apr.
12, '64; Sergt., Mar. 1, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Maher, Michael, 26; Sept. 1, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
30

466 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Marcellus, Carey, 44; Dec. 21, '63, Butler; Dec. 28; no M. O.
Marcellus, Lewis, 26; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64; d. Feb. 16, '65, Danville, Va.
Marshall, David, 33; Dec. 29, '63, Geneva; Jan. 4, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Marshall, William M., 22; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; k. April
2, '65, Petersburg.
Mastin, Michael P., 34; Jan. 11, '64, Cortland; Jan. 11; d. July
16, '64, hospital, Baltimore, from wounds received at Mo
nocacy July 9. He had served two years in Co. H, 23d N.
Y. Infantry.
Mattison, David C, 26; Sept. 12, '64, Springtown; 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Mead, Joseph H, 18; Sept. 8, '64, Lyons; 1 year; wd. Cedar
Creek Oct. 19, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Mead, Judson, 21; Aug. 4, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., April
12, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Feb. 8, '65, Dan
ville, Va.
Mead, Sanford S., 23; Aug. 18, '63, Syracuse; Sept. 10; wd.
June 3, '64, Cold Harbor ; dis. May 21, '65, hospital, Roches
ter, N. Y.
Meeker, Hiram, 28; Dec. 26, '63, Huron; Jan. 8, '64; dis. July
8, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Merrill, Edgar J., 18; Aug. 2, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. Mar. 1,
; '65, hospital, Albany.
Merrill, Edward P., 18; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Merrill, Wallace, 18; Jan. 10, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 18; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy, Md.
Merrill, William H, 18; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus, 1 year; dis. June
5, '65, Elmira, N. Y.
Mitchell, Elias, 23; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; trans. Dec.
29, '63, V. R. C.
Mitchell, George W., 21; Dec. 21, '63, Sennett; Dec. 30; no M. 0.
Mitchell, William, 23; Dec. 26, '63, Macedon; Dec. 26; wd. Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; dis. June 14, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Moffatt, William, 36; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Artificer,
April 19, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Moore, George C, 18; Sept. 17, '64, Wayne; 1 year; wd. April 6,
'65, Sailor's Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Morley, Allen T., 23; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Mar.
11, '63, hospital, Philadelphia.
Mullier, George, 43; Feb. 8, '64, 2d Dist. N. Y.; Feb. 8; d. Sept.
16, '64, hospital, Baltimore, Md.
Murray, Charles A., 19; Aug. 17, '63, Galen; Sept. 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Murray, Patrick H., 18; Aug. 4, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; deserted
Oct. 25, '62.
Nash, Edward, 29; July 27, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,

COMPANY A. 467
June 25, '63; prisoner June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; d. Oct. 31,
'64, Andersonville.
Neal, Jonathan, 18; Aug. 8, '63, Wolcott; Sept. 8; wd. Monocacy
July 9, '64; dis. May 15, '65, Frederick, Md.
Newberry, Charles H., 24; Jan. 14, '64, LeRoy; Jan. 14; dis.
Sept. 29, '65.
Nichols, Henry, 21; Sept. 3, '64, Lansing; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Nichols, Jesse B., 44; Sept. 5, '64, Camillus; 1 year; wd. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek; d. Nov. 8, '64, hospital, Baltimore.
Nichols, Myron B., 26; July 20, '63, Galen; Aug. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Brien, Daniel, 28; Jan. 4, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 4; wd. June 1,
'64, Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Connor, Patrick, 43; July 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; wd. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
O'Niel, Charles, 39; Dec. 12, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 15; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Orterlipp, Francis, 40; Sept. 2, '63, Galen; Sept. 22; k. June 3,
'64, Cold Harbor.
Owen, Milton, 19; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Palmer, Thomas J., 18; Dec. 7, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Perry, Charles W., 18; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Dec 29; Corp., Jan.
1, '65; Sergt., April 17, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H.
A.;M. O., 2d Lieut.
Pettengill, John, 42; Jan. 4, '64, Huron; Jan. 5; dis. May 13, '65,
hospital, Philadelphia.
Pettit, Martin, 19; Aug. 3, '62, WTolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Phillips, Frederick, 32; Dec. 19, '63, Montezuma; no M. O.
Phillips, John, 43; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. June 15,
'65, Washington.
Phillips, Virgil J., 18; Aug. 24, '63, Wolcott; Sept. 2; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Aug. 7, '65, hospital, Rochester, N. Y.
Pitcher, Amos, 24; Aug. 31, '64, Auburn; 1 year; d. April 21,
'65, Martinsburg, West Va.
Porter, Lawson, 26; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept 8; Wagoner,
Nov. 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Rancier, Lewis, 18 ; Dec. 2, '63, Mentz ; Dec. 24 ; no M. O.
Rawson, Abram A., 19; Jan. 14, '64, Troy; Jan. 14; dis. June
26, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Rawson, Charles, 18; Dec. 17, '63, Butler; Dec. 28; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rawson, Edgar A., 20; Dec 17, '63, Butler; Dec. 28; prisoner,
Monocacy, July 9, '64 ; dis. Sept. 1, '65, hospital, Rochester,
N. Y. He had served two years in Co. G, 3d N. Y. L. A.
Rhinehart, William H., 23; Sept. 3, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year;

468 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
wd. Cedar Creek Oct. 19, '64; dis. July 12, '65, hospital,
Philadelphia. He had served in 19th N. Y. Vols.
Rhodes, Henry J., 27; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Sergt.; pro
moted 2d Lieut. Co. G.
Richardson, Isaac J., 31; Aug. 29, '64, Chenango; Aug. 29, 1
year; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Riggs, Henry, 18; Aug. 4, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Robershaw, William, 19; Dec. 17, '63, Wellsport; Dec. 17; de
serted July 16, '64.
Roe, Alfred S., 19; Jan. 21, '64, Thlly; Jan. 21; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ryder, Edwin H, 18; Dec. 28, '63, Genoa; Jan. 4, '64; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. from wounds Aug. 17, '64, Frederick,
Md.
Sampson, Edward F., 20; Aug. 25, '64, Venice; Aug. 26, 1 year;
wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 20, '65, Albany.
Sanborn, Orsemus, 26; Dec. 8, '63, Sterling; Dec 22; deserted
May 9, '64.
Schemerhorn, Stephen S., 29; Sept. 5, '64, Albany; Sept. 5, 1
year; dis. Aug. 30, '65, Albany.
Scott, Benjamin, 37; Dec 30, '63, Venice; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Scott, Carmi, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Huron; Jan. 4; wd. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Searles, Fidelus, 26; Dec. 29, '63, Savannah; Dec. 29; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 10, '65, Frederick, Md.
Searles, Lucien A., 38; Sept. 15, '64, Jamaica; Sept. 15; d. Feb.
22, '65, in the field.
Secor, Charles, 39; Aug. 31, '64, Albany; Aug. 31, 1 year; dis.
June 23, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Secor, John S., 19; Sept. 8, '64, Albany; Sept. 8, 1 year; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 27, '65, hospital, New York.
Seeber, Smith, 25; Sept. 5, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; d. Nov.
3, '64, hospital, Martinsburg, West Va.
Shafer, David, 42; Mar. 28, '63, Victory; May 6; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shafer, William, 36; Feb. 18, '64, 2d Dist. N. Y.; Feb. 18; de
serted May 14, '64.
Shaft, Milton, 30; Aug. 5, '62,Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sheldon, William H., 42; Sept. 22, '64, Lockport; 1 year; dis.
June 15, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Sherman, Charles H., 28; Dec. 31, '63, Galen; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H A.
Sloan, Edward S., 25; Jan. 1, '64, Galen; Jan. 2; dis. Aug. 6,
'65, Washington.
Smith, Amos, 26; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; wd. July 9, '64,
Monocacy; dis. Mar. 31, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Smith, James E.; 22 ; July 25, '63, Galen ; Aug. 5 ; prisoner, Mo-

COMPANY A. 469
nocacy, July 9, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Had
been in the regular army.
Smith, Mortimer F., 20; July 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Jan.
24, '64, for promotion 2d Lieut. Co. E, 20th U. S. Colored
Troops.
Smocker, Frederick, 28; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Sergt;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Snow, Samuel, 25; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; dis. June 30, '65,
Washington.
Snyder, Paul, 38; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; dis. June 16, '65,
Washington.
Sours, Jacob C, 28; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; k. Sept. 19,
'64, Winchester, Va.
Sprague, Alfred J'., 19; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Mar.
6, '63, Washington.
Sprague, Frank, 23; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. April 6,
'64, Fort Baker.
Sprague, Lewis B., 22; Aug. 6, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 22,
'63, hospital, Philadelphia.
Stafford, Horatio G., 28; July 13, '63, Palmyra; Aug. 5; Corp.,
April 12, '64; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. July 6, '65,
Washington.
Stafford, William A., 20; July 3, '63, Palmyra; Aug. 5; wd.
Oct. 19, '64; dis. July 12, '65, Elmira, N. Y.
Stinard, Andrew L., 25; Aug. 1, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Dec. 30, '62; dis. Mar. 30, '64, Fort Baker.
Streeter, Melvin, 25; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Strickland, George, 38; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Dec. 17; wd. Mo
nocacy, July 9 ; d. July 11, '64, hospital, Baltimore.
Struble, Samuel, 26; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 4; no record after
his return to duty from Stone Hospital Sept. 1, '64.
Stubbs, Wesley K, 27; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., April 25, '63; 1st Sergt., April 12, '64; d. Dec.
24, '64, from wounds received Oct. 19 at Cedar Creek.
Stubbs, William R., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Swinder, Henry, 22; Aug. 27, '64, Angelica; Sept. 6; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Taylor, Charles H., 25; Jan. 4, '64, Butler; Jan. 4; dis. June 16,
'65, Washington.
Taylor, Judah N., 20; Aug. 12, '63, Galen; Aug. 18; Corp., April
12, '64; Sergt, Sept. 1, '64; trans. June 27, '65, Co. I, 2d
N. Y. H. A. ; M. O. as 1st Sergt. ; Vet. Co. A, 3d N. Y. A.
Thomas, Philip, 38; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 1, 1 year; dis.
June 15, '65, Washington.
Thompson, William, 20; Sept. 3, '64, Lansing; Sept 3, 1 year;
dis. June 9, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Tompkins, Francis M., 26; Sept. 3, '64, Lansing; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.

470 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Townsend, David, 18; Dec 19, '63, Huron; Jan. 2, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Tupper, William S.. 44; Dec 21, '63, Montezuma; Dec. 30; no
M. O.
Ullrich, Charles, 33; Aug. 6, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., Sept.
1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Vanalstine, Isaac, 41; July 5, '63, Wolcott; Aug. 5; trans. April
21, '64, 82 Co., 2d Bat., V. R. C. ; Vet. 3d N. Y. A.
Vanderberg, James, 23; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 19, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Vanderberg, Martin, 28; Oct. 5, '64, Nunda; Oct. 6, 1 year; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Van Horn, John, 30; Aug. 5, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Wagoner;
dis. Mar. 29. '63, Fort Simmons.
Van Ostrand, Charles, 21; Dec. 19, '63, Marion; wd. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Van Rensselaer, John, 44; Jan. 16, '64, Cortland; Jan. 19; dis.
May 13, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Van Tassel, John, 34; Sept. 3, '64, Lansing; Sept. 3, 1 year; dis.
June 16, '65, Washington.
Veeley, Lewis, 19 ; Sept. 1, '64, Huron ; Sept. 3, 1 year ; dis. June
29, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Wagner, Francis, 26; Sept. 1, '64, Albany; Sept. 1, 1 year; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 15, '65, hospital, Phila
delphia.
Waldron, Benjamin, 24; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 vear;
dis. Jan. 17, '65, York, Pa.
Walker, James W., 28; Aug. 2, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. May 2,
'64, Fort Baker.
Walters, George L., 19; Jan. 2, '64, Cortland; Jan. 3; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. Jan. 12, '65, 59th Co., 2d Bat., V. R. C.
Watkins, Carlton, 28; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; dis.
June 22, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Weeks, DeWitt M., 20; Aug. 17, '63, Galen; Aug. 17; no M. 0.
Welch, William A., 16; Sept. 1, '64, Malone; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Wellington, Benjamin, 28; July 28, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d.
July 28, '64, hospital, New York city.
Wendover, Henry C, 19; Mar. 2, '63, Auburn; Mar. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wendover, James, 18; Aug. 6, '63, Wolcott; Aug. 9; wd. July 9,
'64, Monocacy; dis. May 31, '65, hospital, Rochester, N. Y.
Wendover, William C, 37; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; wd.
Cold Harbor; trans. Mar. 17, '65, Co. A, 22d V. R. C.
Wheeler, H. Hill, Jr., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Butler; Jan. 4; Corp., Jan.
11, '65; promoted 2d Lieut. Co. E.
Whitbeck, George H, 19; enlisted in Co. B, Aug. 19, '63, Galen;
trans. Mar. 19, '64, to Co. A; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.

COMPANY B. 471
Whitbeck, John W., 18; Sept. 12, '63, Galen; Sept. 22; dis. May
13 '65 Rochester N. Y.
Whiting, Foster, 22; Jan. 4, '64, Huron; Jan. 5; d. Sept. 22, '64,
from wounds received Sept. 19 at Winchester, Va.
Whiting, John F., 27; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; promoted
Corp., April 12, '64; wd. Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65;
d. at Syracuse before regiment left for home.
Whitlock, Newton V., 18; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Wilson, Edward H., 38; Dec. 18, '63, Butler; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wilson, Israel S., 18; Aug. 8, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d. July 21,
'64, hospital, New York city.
Wood, Ira, 45; Aug. 2, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d. July 28, '64,
hospital, New York city.
Worden, William, 22; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 16; no M. O.
COMPANY B.
This company came from the western part of Wayne. July
31st the Rev. Truman Gregory of Ontario began raising men
for a company and enrolled A. J. Atwood, Anthony Cooman, J.
C. Hoxie, Jesse Gage and C. P. Patterson. August 4th he added
John Watson and John Ruffle. The first public meeting was
in the Baptist Church, Ontario Centre, August 8th, when
twenty-one more were enrolled. This meeting was attended by
D. F. Strickland of Walworth and Chauncey Fish of William
son, and an arrangement was made whereby Walworth was to
furnish twenty men for the company and have the 1st lieuten
ancy; Williamson, fifteen, and to have the 2d lieutenancy. By
the 12th there were names enough added to warrant going to
Auburn, where on the 14th of August ninety-six men were suc
cessfully passed. Of this number, Ontario had sixty-one, includ
ing Rice of Sodus and Reeves of Marion ; Walworth had twenty-
one and Williamson fourteen. August 15 Strickland added one
and on the 31st five, making his aggregate twenty-eight, and
August 20 Gregory took one more, making for the company a
total of 104.
The agreement as to officers was not exactly complied with,
but the whirligig of time made that all right, and Williamson
had her innings. CAPTAINS.
Truman Gregory, 41 ; Aug. 6, '62, Ontario ; Sept. 9 ; date of rank,
Aug. 14; promoted Major May 13, '64, not mustered; wd.
June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; d. of wounds June 22, '64, at his
home.
Nelson F. Strickland, promoted from 1st Lieut. Feb. 16, '64;
dis. Nov. 28, '64.

472 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Chauncey Fish, from 1st Lieut. Nov. 28, '64; M. O., July 6, '65;
Brevet Major U. S. Vols.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Nelson F. Strickland, 25; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; date
of rank, Aug. 14; promoted Captain.
William E. Greenwood, from 2d Lieut., Jan. 29, '64; wd. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Sept. 12, '64.
Chauncey Fish, from 2d Lieut., Sept. 12, '64; wd. Sept. 19, '64,
Winchester, and Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; promoted Capt.
Josiah T. Crittenden, from 2d Lieut., Feb. 18, '65 ; dis. May 15,
'65. SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
William E. Greenwood, 32; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; date
of rank, Aug. 14; promoted 1st Lieut. !
Chauncey Fish, from 1st Sergt., Feb. 6, '64; promoted 1st Lieut.
Charles W. Hough, from Sergt. Major; date of rank, Feb. 15,
'64; promoted 1st Lieut., Co. F.
Reuben Burton, trans, from Co. I, May 30, '64; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M.
0. as 1st Lieut.
Josiah T. Crittenden, from Co. M, Nov. 28, '64; promoted 1st
Lieut. !
Arthur W. Marshall, from Co. G, Dec. 30, '64; served for the
most part in the 67th Penn.; M. O., July 6, '65.
Francis J. Hoag, from 1st Sergt., Feb. 18, '65; dis. June 14, '65.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Allen, Alonzo H., 24; Aug. 11, '62, Ontario; Sept: 9, Corp.;
Sergt., Nov. 17, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Allen, Calvin H., 19; Sept. 19, Rochester; Sept. 19, 1 year; M.
O., July 6, '65.
Andrew, Alvin, 30; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. Sept. 19,
'64, Winchester; d. of wounds Sept. 21, '64.
Arney, Samuel, 25; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; M. O., July
6, '65.
Atwood, Alvah J., 44; July 31, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Musician;
trans. June 22, '64, unassigned detachment, V. R. C.
Babbitt, Francis, 23; Aug. 11, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Beard, George A., 23; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Bettys, Lafayette L., 18; Dec. 12, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Birdsall, William, 26; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July
6, '65.
Bishop, Edwin A., 28; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Sergt., no
date; M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY B. 473
Blythe, Jabez A., 23; Dec. 21, '63, Macedon; Dec. 29; Corp., Feb.
19, '64; wd. Sept. 19, '64, Winchester; dis. June 15, '65,
¦ hospital, Philadelphia.
Bostwick, J. Benson, 22; Aug. 15, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9, Corp.;
dis. Nov. 20, '63, for promotion 1st Lieut., 10th U. S. C. T.
Bradley, Augustus B., 20; Sept. 5, '64, Lyons; 1 year; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; d. of wounds Nov. 1, '64, hospital,
Philadelphia.
Bradley, Herman J., 23; Sept. 15, '64, Moravia; 1 year; M. 0„
July 6, '65; Vet. Co. I, 17th N. Y. Infantry.
Brock, Charles J., 30; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp., Aug.
11, '63; Sergt., April 11, '64; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor;
dis. May 31, '65, hospital, Rochester, N. Y.
Bronson, Oscar H, 23; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Brown, Jacob B., 31; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; d. Dec. 19,
'64, at home.
Brown, Rensselaer, 29; Aug. 29, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; Corp.,
Mar. 10, '65; wd. Oct. 19, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Buck, James W., 26; Dec. 5, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Calhoun, Daniel D., 13; April 13, '63, Galen; dis. May 12, '64,
Fort Richardson, Va.
Carey, Orin, 18; April 25, '63, Ontario; May 8; prisoner, July 9,
'64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carr, Micajah, 44; Dec. 18, '63, Walworth; Dec. 25; dis. March
28, '64, Fort Baker.
Case, Edwin, 27; Dec 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; wd. Sept. 19,
'64, Winchester; dis. July 6, '65, hospital, Rochester, N. Y.
Chapman, Grosvenor E., 19; Aug. 8, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9;
M. O., July 6, '65. i
Chapman, Ralph D., 29; Dec. 10, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; ac
cidentally injured in camp; dis. Oct. 22, '64.
Chapman, Washington, 42; Dec 17, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; d. July
12, '64, on U. S. hospital ship, Atlantic.
Cheney, Jerome B., 21; Dec. 26, '63, Rochester; Dec. 26; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Christman, George H, 35; Sept. 1, '64, Lansing; 1 year; M. O,,
July 6, '65. )
Church, George M., 18; Dec. 3, '63, Ontario; Dec. 12; d. March
20, '64, Fort Mansfield.
Clark, James E., 24; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July
9, '65.
Clark, Lorenzo D., 38; Dec. 21, '63, Walworth; dis. Jan. 31, '64,
Fort Simmons; rejected recruit.
Olum, Edward F., 18; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Conger, Daniel, 44 ; Sept. 2, '64, Walworth ; 1 year ; trans. April
29, '65, V. R. C.

474 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Cooman, Anthony, 30; July 31, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
Copping, Thomas J., 18; Dec. 20, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; Corp.,
June 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cordon, Isaac, 30; enlisted in Co. I, Dec. 26, '63, Venice; Jan. 6,
'64; trans. May 17, '64, to Co. B; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Har
bor; dis. April 15, '65, hospital, Germantown, Pa.
Davis, Allen B., 30; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., Julv
6, '65.
Dempsey, Milton, 18; Sept. 5, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year; M.
O., July 6, '65.
Dennev, Loren, 27; Aug. 9, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; Corp.,
June 22, '65 ; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dietrick, Edwin, 35; Sept. 2, '64, Lansing; Sept. 2, 1 year; M.
O., July 6, '65.
Diver, Frank H., 19; trans. Nov. 11, '64, to Co. B from Co. I, 76th
N. Y., in which he had enlisted, July 24, '63; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Diver, Jerome B., 25; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July
6, '65.
Dulan, John, 18; Aug. 25, '64, Oakfleld; wd. April 2, '65, Peters
burg; dis. June 14, '65, Washington.
Dunlap, John H, 32; Aug. 8, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; dis. July
6, '65, Fort Stevens.
Dwight, Lewis, 34; April 1, '64, Trenton; April 1; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dwyer, James, 39; Jan. 5, '64, in Co. I, Auburn; Jan. 5; trans.
to Co. B May 17, '64; trans. April 13, '65, Co. G, 20th V.R.C.
Ellsworth, George, 21; Sept. 23, '64, Tarrytown; Sept. 23, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Elmer, Francis M., 20; Aug. 7, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Elmer, Reuben, 44; Aug. 8, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; dis. April
24, '63, Fort Simmons.
Fenner, Nelson A., 24; Dec. 3, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fish, Chauncey, 39; Aug. 1, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; 1st Sergt;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Fish, John J., 18; Mar. 30, '64, Williamson; Mar. 30; dis. June
14, '65, hospital, Washington.
Fish, Myron M., 20; Mar. 26, '64, Williamson; Mar. 30; k. Sept.
19, '64, Winchester.
Fitts, Nelson A., 33; Aug. 1, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; captured at
Monocacy and escaped, July 18; M. O., July 6, '65.
Fleischer, Henry, 36; Dec. 26, '63, Rochester; Dec. 26; deserted
Aug. 20, '64.
Foote, Harvey M., 25; Aug. 1, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9, Sergt.; dis.
Nov. 20, '63, for promotion 1st Lieut, Co. C, 10th U. S. C. T.
Franklin, Benjamin, 19; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. Cold

COMPANY B.

475

Harbor; became bugler; M. O., July 6, '65. Had served in
Co. D, 13th N. Y. Infantry.
Franklin, Joshua, 26; Aug. 13, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9, Corp.; dis.
April 17, '63; re-enlisted Dec. 14, '63, Ontario; dis. Jan. 31,
'64, Fort Simmons; rejected recruit.
Freer, John, 20; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fries, Edmund, 22; Aug. 12, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; Corp.,
Jan. 21, '65; M. O., July 6, '65. I
Fries, Gilbert, 21; Aug. 11, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Frost, Lewis B., 21; Dec. 26, '63, Penfleld; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gage, Jesse, 3d, 43; July 31, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis. Aug. 12,
'65, Washington.
Gamble, David P., 16; Dec 16, '63, Palmyra; Dec. 26; dis. June
26, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Gardiner, Lewis G., 24 ; Dec. 5, '63, Ontario ; Dec. 29 ; wd. Sept.
19, '64, Winchester; dis. June 19, '65, Frederick, Md.
Gilbert, George W., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; Corp.,
Oct. 11, '63; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Feb. 16, '65.
Gilno, Ezra, 29; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Golden, Thomas, 36; Aug. 12, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; M. O.,
July 6, '65. i i
Greenman, Matthew C, 18; Dec. 14, '63, Rochester; Dec. 16; d.
Nov. 5, '64, hospital, Philadelphia.
Greenman, Wesley A., 20; Dec. 14, '63, Rochester; Dec 14; dis.
May 13, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Greenman, William H., 19; Dec. 14, '63, Rochester; Dec. 14;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gregory, Lyman, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9, Corp.; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Grey, Henry G., 24; Dec 30, '64, Troy; Dec. 31; deserted April
23, '65, on march to Danville.
Grippen, David G., 28; Aug. 11, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis., as
bugler, Mar. 28, '64, Fort Baker.
Hall, John, 25; Aug. 31, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; wd. Sept. 19,
'64, Winchester; M. O., July 6, '65.
Harkness, Edson J., 19; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9, Corp.;
dis. Sept. 19, '63, for promotion Captain, 6th U. S. C. T.;
M. O., Brevet Major.
Hazzard, William F., 18; Nov. 7, '63, Rochester; Nov. 12; trans.
May 4, '65, 69th Co., 2d Bat, V. R. C.
Hibbard, Calvin C, 21; Dec. 16, '63, Ontario; Dec. 20; d. June
5, '64, Yorktown, Va., of wounds received June 1 at Cold
Harbor.
Hiller, Jacob, 36; Aug. 11, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. June 3, '64,
Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.

476 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Hoag, Francis J., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; Corp.,
Nov. 17, '63; Sergt, Jan. 19, '64; 1st Sergt., Jan. 8, '65;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Hoag, Hiram C, 43; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hoag, J. Murray, 19; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth ; Sept. 9; Corp., May
' 4, '63; dis. Aug. 29, '63, for promotion 2d Lieut. 4th U. S.
Colored Troops ; lost an arm in the service.
Hodges, William H, 31; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; de
serted Feb. 23, '65.
Holdridge, Daniel H, 21; Dec. 21, '63, Penfleld; Dec. 26;
drowned, June 17, '65, while bathing in Georgetown canal,
near Fort Simmons.
Holdridge, William, 18; Aug. 26, '64, Middleburg; wd. Mar. 25,
'65; dis. June 15, '65.
Holtom, Frank B., 18; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor, and Sept. 19, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hopkins, Cassius C, 19; Aug. 20, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp.,
April 1, '64; trans. May 6, '64, U. S. Navy.
Howell, Vernon R., 19; Jan. 15, '64, Marion; Jan. 20; dis. June
22, hospital, Philadelphia.
Howser, Charles L., 19; Sept. 3, '64, Dayton; 1 year; d. Nov. 4,
'64, hospital, Baltimore, of wounds received at Cedar Creek.
Hoxie, John C, 19; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Wagoner;
Corp., April 1, '64; trans. Mar. 15, '65, Signal Corps.
Jagger, Daniel E., 18; Dec. 16, '63, Palmyra; Dec. 26; d. June 15,
'64, hospital, David's Island, N. Y., from wounds received
June 8, Cold Harbor.
Jones, Stephen, 21; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July
6, '65.
King, John H, 19; Aug. 9, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp.- and
Sergt., no dates; wd. June 1, Cold Harbor; M. O., July
6, '65.
Ladd, Francis, 40; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; d. June 26, '64,
hospital, City Point, Va.
Lavarne, Daniel, 18; Dec. 21, '64; 1 year; wd. April 2, '65, Peters
burg; dis. July 14, '65, hospital, Washington.
Leighton, Lewis B., 24; Sept. 8, '64, Syracuse; Sept. 8, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Lent, Charles D., 32; Aug. 12, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9, Sergt;
promoted 2d Lieut., Co. H.
Lewis, Dwight, vide Dwight, Lewis.
Loomis, Francis M., 21; Dec. 21, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; dis.
June 7, '65, Baltimore.
Loveless, Hamilton, 18; Mar. 23, '63, Rose; Mar. 26; k. June 1,
'64, Cold Harbor.
McCarthy, Daniel, 38; Dec. 10, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; wd. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Nov. 19, '64, hospital, Washington.
McCartin, Laughlin, 44; Jan. 5, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5; in Co. I;

COMPANY B. 477
trans. Co. B May 17, '64; prisoner June 1, '64, Cold Harbor;
d. Sept. 2, '64, Andersonville.
McClure, James, 22; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. July 27, '65, Syracuse.
McConnell, Irving, 18; Dec 25, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; in Co. G;
trans. Co. B May 17, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McCumber, William H, 21; Dec. 26, '63, Rochester; Dec. 26;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mack, Daniel, 18; Jan. 21, '64, Lansing; Jan. 21; in Co. I; trans.
Co. B May 17, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mack, David S., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9, Sergt.;
dis. Oct. 4, '63, for promotion 1st Lieut., 7th U. S. C. T.
Mack, Samuel R,, 26; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
McKowen, Edwin, 25; Sept. 19, '64, Sodus; Sept. 19, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Manchester, Charles F., 25; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis.
April 8, '64, Fort Baker.
Mason, James O., 23; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Merrick, Joseph S., 20; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis. June
11, '63, hospital, Rochester.
Metzgar, Dana, 20; Aug. 30, '64, Groton; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Miller, Charles A., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; d. Aug.
2, '64, hospital, Washington.
Miller, William H, 18; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; dis. Jan.
25, '65, Washington.
Munson, Charles H, 29; Dec. 18, '63, Marion; Dec. 20; in Co. G;
trans. Co. B May 17, '64; k. April 2, '65, Petersburg.
Myers, Frederick, 18; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Myers, Samuel, 41; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; k. Sept. 19,
'64, Winchester.
Nash, Josiah E., 23; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; d. Aug. 7,
'64, hospital, Annapolis, of wounds received July 9 at Mo
nocacy.
Negus, John, 38; Feb. 24, '64, Rochester; Feb. 25; prisoner, Mo
nocacy, July 9, '64; dis. June 29, '65, Rochester.
Niles, Edwin D., 18; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Niles, Egbert, 19; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July 6, '65.
O'Flynn, Thomas D., 22; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; wd.
Sept 19, '64, Winchester; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Flynn, William H, 18; Dec. 29, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Page, Ebenezer. 42 : Aug. 2, Ontario ; Sept. 9, Corp. ; M. O., July
6, '65.

478 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Painter, George, 26; Aug. 4, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; disabled in
line of march; dis. May 17, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Palan, Robert D., 25; Dec. 26, '63, Penfleld; Dec. 26; wd. June
8, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Jan. 20, '66, hospital, David's
Island, N. Y.
Parker, James E., 22; Dec. 16, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; dis. July
23, '64, for promotion 1st Lieut., 12th U. S. C. T.
Parkhill, Robert F., 26; Aug. 13, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; d.
Nov. 12, '64, Rochester, from wounds received Oct. 19 Cedar
Creek. Had served in 17th N. Y. Infantry.
Patterson, Charles P., 25; July 31, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; pro
moted 2d Lieut, Co. F.
Patterson, James N., 25; Aug. 31, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; wd.
, June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Jan. 28, '65, hospital, Phila
delphia.
Payne, Alexander, 37; Dec. 10, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; d. Sept.
20, '64, from wounds received the day before at Winchester.
Peacock, Harrison F., 26; Dec. 19, '63, Macedon; Dec. 29; Corp.,
Feb. 23, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. as
sergeant.
Peacock, Oscar F., 21 ; Aug. 29, '62, Walworth ; Sept. 9 ; dis. May
15, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Pease, Charles W., 25; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis. Nov.
20, '63, for promotion 2d Lieut., 10th U. S. Colored Troops.
Perrin, Edwin B., 18; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec 26; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Pierce, Samuel, 27; May 19, '63, Palmyra; June 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Pierson, John, 30; Aug. 31, Walworth; Aug. 31; Corp., July 13,
'63; d. June 20, '64, hospital, Philadelphia, from wounds
received June 1 at Cold Harbor.
Potter, Elias, 31; Aug. 12, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; promoted
artificer; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Pratt, Almon J., 26; July 31, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9, Sergt; dis.
Nov. 20, '63, for promotion 1st Lieut, 10th U. S. C. T.
Prentiss, James D., 19; Dec 20, '63, Williamson; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Prey, David H., 42; Dec. 24, '63, Hannibal, in Co. G, thence to
B May 17, '64; Dec 29; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Had served in Co. G, 5th Wisconsin Infantry.
Pryor, John, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Palmyra; Dec. 29; dis. June 20,
'65, Washington.
Raynor, Andrew J., 24; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis. Dec.
11, '63, for promotion 2d Lieut., 19th U. S. Colored Troops.
Reed, John L., 27; Aug. 13, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp., no date;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Reed, Nathan R., 22; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; Corp.,
Nov. 18, '62; Sergt., Nov. 17, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Reeves, Stephen, 37; Aug. 8, '62, Marion; Sept. 9; promoted ar
tificer; M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY B. 479
Rice, John F., 31; May 19, '63, Palmyra; June 4; k. Sept. 19, '64,
Winchester.
Rice, Lewis B., 28; Aug. 8, '62, Sodus; Sept. 9; dis. July 8, '63,
for promotion 2d Lieut, Co. K, 1st U. S. Colored Troops.
Richmond, George H, 20; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; dis.
July 8, '65, Harper's Ferry.
Rifenburg, Walter L., 21; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; wd.
June 1, '64, Cold Harbor, and Oct. 19, Cedar Creek; dis. as
Corp., July 17, '65, Elmira.
Risley, Charles M., 21; Feb. 25, '64, Rochester; Feb. 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rogers, Eugene O., 21 ; Aug. 12, '62, Walworth ; Sept. 9 ; Corp.,
Nov. 17, '63; dis. as Sergt. June 26, '65.
Rogers, William, 41; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65. i i
Rouch, Max, 37; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; trans. June 24,
'65, Co. A, 11th Regt., V. R. C.
Roys, Gains M., 27; Aug. 12, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; M. O.,
July 6, '65. i
Ruffle, John, 44; Aug. 1, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; d. July 13, '63,
Fort Mansfield.
Russell,_Elon, 32; Dec. 16, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; dis. June 23,
'65, Washington.
Sage, James, 39; Dec. 3, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; d. Oct. 20, '64, of
wounds received the day before at Cedar Creek.
Sage, Joseph, 30 ; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario ; Sept. 9 ; wd. Sept. 19,
'64, Winchester; dis. April 28, '65, Rochester.
Sanders, Eugene, 23; Aug. 9, '62, Williamson; Sept. 9; Corp.,
June 20, '64; Sergt, Jan. 21, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sharp, Emmet W., 22; Aug. 9, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O.,
July 6, '65. > ¦
Shipman, John, 18; Sept. 5, '64, Groton; 1 year; dis. June 21,
'65, Washington.
Sipperly, Philip E., 44; Dec. 9, '63, Wolcott; Dec 29; wd. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Albert L., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; dis. Aug.
1, '65, Washington.
Smith, Edwin B., 20; Sept. 5, '64, Lyons; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Smith, Henry, 21; Sept. 9, '64, Sodus; Sept. 9, 1 year; wd. March
25, '65, Petersburg; dis. July 6, '65, Washington.
Smith, Jarvis L., 29; Dec. 10, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Morris M., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp., Mar.
10, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Smith, Walter S., 38; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Musician;
dis. June 20, '65, Washington.
Soper, John H., 18; Dec. 18, '63, Marion; Dec. 20 in Co. G, thence
trans. B, May 17, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

480 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Sova, Alfred N., 18; Dec. 19, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; dis. June
16, '65, Washington.
Speller, James W., 24; Aug. 13, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Aug. 26;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Stanford, Daniel J., 25; Aug. 11, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp.,
June 13, '63; Sergt., Jan. 19, '64; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar
Creek; M. 0., July 6, '65.
Sterling, Wallace M., 23; July 1, '63, Fort Mansfield; July 2;
dis. Aug. 21, '63, for promotion 1st Lieut, 1st U. S. Colored
Troops. Had served in Co. D, 28th N. Y. Infantry.
Strickland, Thomas A., 20; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Stumpf, William, 21; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; d. June
4, '64, Sixth Corps hospital, from wounds received June 1
at Cold Harbor.
Taylor, Sylvester D., 19; Feb. 25, '64, Rochester; Feb. 25; trans.
as musician June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Terwilliger, Albert E., 18; Aug. 14, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; Corp.,
Aug. 1, '64; wd. Sept. 19, '64, Winchester; M. O., July 6, '65.
Thatcher, James H., 21; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Corp., Feb. 12, '64;
Sergt, Jan. 21, '65; 1st Sergt., Mar. 10, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Thomas, Charles, 18; Aug. 8, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; k. Sept.
19, '64, Winchester.
Travis, Edwin L., 21; Dec. 16, '63, Ontario; Dec 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Tucker, William H., 21; Aug. 31, '64, Groton; Aug. 31; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. C, 76th N. Y. Vols.
Vandewarker, Abial, 18; Dec. 3, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Vandewarker, Samuel, 21; May 3, '63, Palmyra; June 4; wd.
Sept. 19, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wall, Alonzo H, 21; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July
6, '65.
Warland, George L., 18; Dec. 22, '63; Rochester; Dec. 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Warland, Henry C, 21; July 1, '63, Fort Mansfield; July 2;
Corp., July 1, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Warren, Charles, 20; Dec. 18, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; dis. July 5,
'65, Washington.
Warren, Edwin, 18; Dec. 18, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Warren, Jerome, 20; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July
6, '65.
Warren, Robert, 37; Dec. 10, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; dis. June 12,
'65, hospital, Rochester.
Watson, John W., 25; Aug. 1, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Westbrook, Manley, 19; Sept. 14, '64, Sodus; 1 year; d. Dec. 18,
'64, in field hospital, Winchester, from wounds received
Oct. 19 at Cedar Creek.

COMPANY C. 481
Whitcomb, Charles D., 35; Aug. 9, '62, Ontario; dis. Jan. 15,
'64, Fort Simmons.
White, Artemus T., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; dis.
April 3, '63, Fort Simmons.
White, John J., 24; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; Corp.,
Aug. 1, '64; dis. June 16, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Whitman, Henry, 29; Dec. 7, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
Oct. 10, '64, Co. B, 10th Regt., V. R. C.
Whitmer, John, 21; Dec. 21, '63, Walworth; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Willis, Charles, 18; Aug. 31, '64, Geneva; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Wilson, John, 18; Aug. 8, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; M. O., July 6, '65.
Woodard, Orlando, 18; Dec. 16, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Woodhams, Henry, 28; Dec 17, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Woodruff, Edgar W., 27; Aug. 12, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9, Corp.;
dis. Feb. 4, '64, Fort Simmons.
Wooster, Milton, 18; Dec. 10, '63, Ontario; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wooster, Seymour W., 25; Aug. 1, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; d. Sept.
22, '64, in field hospital, Winchester, from wounds received
the 19th.
Wooster, William E., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Ontario; Sept. 9; k. June
3, '64, Cold Harbor.
Wyman, Abel R., 26; Aug. 11, '62, Walworth; Sept. 9; d. July
10, '64, hospital, Washington, from wounds received June
22 at Petersburg.
Wyman, William M., 33; Dec. 14, '63, Walworth; Dec. 27; d.
March 25, '65, hospital, Washington.

COMPANY C.
This was a Cayuga county company exclusively. Some of the
names of towns in our section of the state are very peculiar,
and the stranger might smile at the thought of Cato, Conquest
and Victory supplying the soldiers who were mustered in on
that 8th of September, 1862. These men were reared in town
ships suggestive of warfare, and of triumph, too. Cato, whether
the older or the younger, was a warrior, and his name was given
to this particular portion of the state because the township was
a part of the military purchase, as were Conquest and Victory
also. Men from such starting places could do no less than win.
The credit of raising the company belonged largely to Captain
Alden and Lieutenants Follett and Burke.
If the roster, as published by the state in 1868 may be be
lieved, the first name enrolled for the company was that of
31

482 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Robert H. Haver of Conquest July 21. Then came, on the 23d,
from the town of Cato, O. G. Burke, David Edminster, Squire
Fuller, Chester Hooker, W. H. Lockwood and J. J. Putnam.
The list was full in August. CAPTAINS.
Loyal W. Alden, 32; Aug. 25, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; date of rank,
Aug. 14; resigned Feb. 10, '63.
Harvey W. Follett, from 1st Lieut, Feb. 10, '63; dis. Oct. 8, '64.
Marshall B. Burke, from 1st Lieut, Sept. 12, '64; M. O., Julv
6, '65. FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Harvey W. Follett, 34; Aug. 27, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; date of
rank, Aug. 14 ; promoted Captain.
Marshall B. Burke, from 2d Lieut., Feb. 10, '63; wd. July 9, '64,
Monocacy; promoted Captain.
Asahel M. Abbey, from Co. M, March 17, '64; dis. Sept. 28, '64.
John B. Baker, from private, Nov. 3, '64; dis. Jan. 31, '65.
William W. Sinclair, from 2d Lieut, Co. L, Oct. 9, '64 ; rank from
Sept. 12; trans, back to L March 15, '65.
Charles Cowell, from 1st Sergt., Feb. 17, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
James D. Knapp, from Co. H, Feb. 17, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Marshall B. Burke, 23; Aug. 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; date of
rank, Aug. 14; promoted 1st Lieut.
Lyman C. Comstock, from field and staff, Feb. 10, '63; promoted
1st Lieut. Co. I.
James W. Tifft, from 1st Sergt., Mar. 10, '64; wd. July 9, '64,
Monocacy; dis. Nov. 28, '64.
George E. Chapel, 27; May 11, '64, Butler; date of rank, March
17; dis. Dec. 5, '64.
John M. Allen, from private, March 24, '64; dis. Feb. 28, '65.
Michael McNulty, from private, Sept. 12, '64; dis. Feb. 28, '65.
Gilbert Conklin, from Co. G, Nov. 28, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
William H. Mclntyre, from Co. H, Feb. 3, '65; M. O., July 6,
'65. Had served two years in Co. B, 27th N. Y. Infantry,
Cyrus Acker, from Sergt., Nov. 28, '64; not mustered.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abrams, Edwin H., 18; Sept. 1, Auburn; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Acker, Cyrus, 27; Aug. 25, *62, Cato; Sept. 9, Sergt; promoted
2d Lieut; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. April 3, '65,
hospital, Rochester.
Allen, Andrew J., 45; Jan. 7, '64, Onondaga^ Jan. 7; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Danville Sept. 28, '64.

COMPANY C.

1st Lieut. J. D. Knapp. Stephen Reeves (B). 1st Lieut. H. W. Follett.
Capt. Loyal W. Alden,
2nd Lieut. M. McNulty. Lewis B. Rice (B). Sergt. Cyrus Acker.

COMPANY C. 483
Allen, John M., 27; Jan. 5, '64, Ira; Jan. 5; promoted 2d Lieut.
Arnevine, William, 36; Sept. 6, '64, New York; Sept. 6, 1 year;
d. Nov. 2, '64, in the field.
Baker, John B., 44; Dec. 22, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 22; promoted
1st Lieut.
Baldwin, Jonathan, 22 ; Aug. 14, '62, Cato ; Sept. 8 ; d. accidental
poisoning Jan. 26, '63, Fort Gaines, D. C.
Baldwin, Lyman, 20; Aug. 4, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 10, '63,
hospital, Fort Gaines.
Ball, John C, 19; July 29, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Barnard, Riverous E., 26; Jan. 2, '64, Hannibal; Jan. 2; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 19, '64, Danville.
Bartles, Henry, 32; Dec. 28, '63, Fayette; Dec 29; prisoner Sept.
19, '64, Winchester; dis. June 24, '65.
Bass, Henry, 32; Aug. 31, Conquest; Aug. 31; d. Nov. 10, '64,
hospital, Baltimore.
Bates, Milton, 22; Sept. 5, '64, Elbridge; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 5, '65.
Bates, Oliver, 21; Dec. 16, '63, Waterloo; Dec. 18; Corp., June
13, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. as Sergt.
Beal, Seth, Jr., 36; Sept. 4, '64, Manchester; Sept. 13, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Bench, George, 23; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp., April
6, '64; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Benton, William, 31; Sept. 8, '64, Albany; Sept. 20, 1 year; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; not heard from after going to hos
pital.
Bessy, Nelson H., 30; Sept. 1, '64, Conquest; Sept. 1, 1 year;
wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 15, '65.
Betts, Robert D., 31; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; Sergt, Aug. 1, '64; 1st Sergt., March 8, '65;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Bevier, James H, 18; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; k. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor.
Bills, Stephen L., 33; Jan. 13, '64, Macedon; Jan. 13; dis. June
24, '65, Washington.
Bishop, Henry, 27; Dec. 25, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 25; k. June 1,
'64, Cold Harbor.
Blakeman, Hiram, 23; July 24, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; dis. June
26, '64, hospital, Philadelphia.
Blakeman, Horace, 21; July 30, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Mar. 7, '65, Parole Camp, Annap
olis, Md.
Blakeman, Sidney S., 26; Sept. 1, '64, Conquest; Sept. 1; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Blass, Michael, 36; Jan. 4, '64, Conquest; Jan. 4; dis. May 31, '65,
hospital, Philadelphia.
Blass, Walter, 21; Aug. 23, '64, Conquest; Aug. 23, 1 year;M.
O., July 6, '65.

484 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Boyle, Lawrence, 19; Dec. 24, '63, Tyre; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Brett, Joseph, 28; Dec. 22, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 22; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. ; Vet. Co. B, 7th U. S.
Brooks, Bela S., 39; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Sergt.; dis.
March 27, '63, Fort Simmons.
Brooks, George L., 21; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; d. Aug.
24, '64, hospital, Baltimore.
Brooks, William G., 18; Aug. 2, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Brown, Charles S.; dis. Oct. 2, '63, Fort Mansfield. Register
gives nothing further.
Brown, Jesse S., 30; Jan. 2, '64, Hannibal; Jan. 24; dis. May 31,
'65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Bunn, George, 23; Dec. 22, '63, Sennett; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Burgess, Almond, 43; Sept. 2, '64, Sempronius; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Burk, Giles O., 27; July 23, '62, Cato; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,
April 6, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Burns, John, 18; Aug. 9, '64„Tarrytown; Aug. 9, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Campbell, Christopher, 21; Nov. 9, '64, New York; Nov. 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carl, William, 32; Sept. 13, '64, New York; 1 year; M. 0., July
6, '65.
Carncross, David M., 21 ; Jan. 2, '64, Lysander ; Jan. 2 ; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 19, '64, Danville, Va.
Carroll, James, 36; Dec. 15, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 16; d. July
12, '64, hospital, Frederick, Md., from wounds received on
the 9th at Monocacy.
Carey, Joseph, 28; Dec. 29, '63, Macedon; Jan. 2, '64; d. July 10,
'64, hospital, White House, Va.
Chapman, Addison G., 24; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Chapman, Elon, 24; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; k. July 9, '64, Monocacy, Md.
Chappell, Harvey, 18; Feb. 7, '64, Auburn; Feb. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Chase, Lewis, 32; Sept. 6, '64, Tyrone; Sept. 7, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Chase, Orin, 18; Dec. 28, '63, Oswego; Dec. 28; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clark, Ezra, 18; Dec. 15, '63, Waterloo; Dec. 15; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clark, George P., 21; Sept. 2, '64, Sempronius; Sept. 3, 1 year;
dis. June 15, '65, hospital, Washington.
Clevenger, Samuel B., 21 ; Jan. 5, '64, Macedon ; Jan. 5 ; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Had served in 33d N. Y.

COMPANY C. 485
Colburn, John F., 18; Feb. 24, '64, Phelps; March 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cole, Barton D., 23; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Corp.;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Cole, John H., 21; Aug. 4, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Sept. 6, '64, Camp Parole, Annapolis,
Md.
Collins, Isaac, 24; Aug. 4, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; wd. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Costello, William, 21; Jan. 20, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 21; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cowan, John, 18; Dec. 20, '63, Macedon; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cowell, Charles, 26; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
13, '62; Sergt, April 6, '64; wd. Cold Harbor; 1st Sergt.,
Nov. 19, '64; promoted 1st Lieut.
Cox, James W., 29; Sept. 19, '64, Barre; 1 year; d. Oct. 19, '64.
The record does not state where.
Craver, Charles, 30; Sept. 5, '64, Elbridge; 1 year; dis. July 2,
'65, hospital, Frederick, Md.
Crosby, Isaac M., 27; Sept. 3, '64, Rochester; 1 year; wd. April
2, '65, Petersburg ; dis. July 5, '65, hospital, Washington.
Crounse, David, 21; July 22, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp., April
6, '64; Sergt, Jan. 24, '65; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Crounse, David J., 22; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Nov. 19, '63; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 27,
'65.
Crounse, Hiram, 39; Aug. 30, '64, Conquest; 1 year; wd. April
2, '65, Petersburg; dis. July 27, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Crounse, Jacob, 18; Feb. 2, '64, Conquest; Feb. 6; wd. June 1,
'64, Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Daknett, Frank, 25; July 28, '62, Conquest; Aug. 6; M. O., July
6, '65.
Demass, Martin, 18; Aug. 6, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; Corp., April 6,
'64; wd. Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Demott, Park, 18; Oct. 19, '63, Sterling; Nov. 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dewitt, James A., 40; Aug. 14, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Corp.;
wd. Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dewitt, John M., 18; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '65, Monocacy; d. Feb. 12, '65, Danville, Va.
Dewitt, Russell M., 14; Aug. 30, '64, Auburn; Aug. 30, 1 year;
dis. July 12, '65.
Dodd, Edward, 39; Sept. 8, '64, Tyrone; Sept. 8, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Donnelly, John, 21; Dec. 17, '63, Auburn; Dec 21, '63; wd.
Sept. 19, '64 ; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Donovan, Jeremiah, 18; Jan. 20, '64, Oswego; prisoner July 9,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

486 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Earley, Charles, 27; July 30, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., Sept. 22, '65, Elmira, N. Y.
Edminster, David, 23; Aug. 11, '62, Cato; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,
April 6, '64; promoted Bugler Jan. 24, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Emerick, Levi, 22; Jan. 4, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 24, '64, Danville, Va.
Fiero, Isaac M., 24; Aug. 2, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; wd. June 1,
'64, Cold Harbor; dis. May 6, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Finnacy, Richard, 28; Aug. 5, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; d. June
24, '64, hospital, Washington, from wounds received June
5 at Cold Harbor.
Finney, William, 21; July 29, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; wd. Sept.
19, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Fisher, George, 37; Dec. 30, '63, Skaneateles; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Flint, Clark R., 44; Sept. 4, Sempronius; Sept. 21, 1 year; d. May
26, '65, hospital, Washington.
Follett, Alanson H, 24; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Sergt;
1st Sergt., April 6, '64; k. June 5, '64, Cold Harbor.
Foster, Lewis M.. 18; Sept. 1, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
18, '64; M. 6„ July 6, '65.
Fuller, David N., 27; July 23, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; record for this
name obscure, appears to have been dropped.
Fuller, Henry, 21; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; dis. June
13, '65.
Fuller, Silas, 36; Aug. 6, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov. 18, '64;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Fuller, Squire, 21; July 23, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 14, '63,
hospital, Washington.
Fuller, William, 18; July 28, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Gardner, Turner, 27; Aug. 11, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; dis. April 22,
'64, Fort Foote, Md.
Garity, Frank, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp., April
6, '64; Sergt, Nov. 18, '64; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor,
and Oct. 19 Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Gerard, Joseph J., 24; Dec 14, '63, Albany; Dec. 14; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Gerow, William, 21; Jan. 4, '64, Hannibal; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gifford, Eugene, 18; Aug. 5, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; d. Nov. 11, '63,
Fort Foote, Md.
Gilbert Spencer C, 19; July 25, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
18, '64; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Grant, Charles, 44; Dec. 21, '63; Sennett; Dec. 30; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Grimes, Stephen, 40; July 30, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; dis. June
13, '65, Washington.
Hale, James, 21; Aug. 2, '62, Victory; Sept. 8, Corp.; dis. Feb.
2, '63, Fort Gaines.

COMPANY C 487
Hammond, Elias G., 31; Aug. 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Nov. 25, '62; dis. May 7, '64; second enlistment, Aug.
23, '64; Aug. 23, 1 year; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hand, Nathan B., 29; Jan. 1, '64, Rose; Jan. 2; wd. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor; dis. May 15, '65, in the field; had served in the
111th N. Y.
Haver, Robert H, 21; July 21, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; in V. R.
C. from April 18 to Nov. 25, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hay, William, 36; Dec. 22, '63, Macedon; Dec. 28; d. Sept. 30,
'63, Fort Simmons.
Heater, John, 20; March 16, '64, Phelps; March 17; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Hitchcock, George, 47; Jan. 4, '64, Macedon; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Holcomb, Almon, 18; Aug. 8, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Corp.; wd.
June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; promoted 2d Lieut. Co. E.
Holcomb, Horace, 19; Aug. 13, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hooker, Francis E., 25; Sept. -12, '64, Manchester; Sept. 13, 1
year; dis. June 13, '65, hospital, Washington.
Hooker, Joseph C, 18; July 23, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; wd. Sept. 19,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hunt, Ralph, 24; Sept. 3, '64, Dewitt; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hunter, Irving, 20; Aug. 8, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Musician;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Ingraham, Oliver, 26; Dec. 23, '63, Preble; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. G, 3d N. Y. A.
Isler, Benjamin, 27; Jan. 22, '64, Macedon; Jan. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
James, Job, 18; Feb. 12, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 12; wd. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek; dis. Dec 31, '65, hospital, Albany.
Jayne, Jotham, 34; Sept. 2, '64, Sempronius; 1 year; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Jayne, Seneca, 42; Aug. 27, '64, Sempronius; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Jetty, Frank, 19; Aug. 22, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; dis. June 16,
'65^ Washington.
Jordan, Chester A., 31; Sept. 7, '64, Tyrone; Sept. 7, 1 year; wd.
Sept. 19, '64, Winchester; dis. June 19, '65, Frederick, Md.
Kain, John, 44; Jan. 3, '64, Geddes; Jan. 14; dis. Feb. 16, '65,
on account of wounds received June 1, '64, at Cold Harbor.
Kain, Morris, 19 ; Jan. 5, '64, Geddes ; Jan. 5 ; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Keefe, Lawrence O., 20; Dec. 12, '63, Oswego; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kilmer, George, 21; Aug. 11, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; dis. July 15, '65,
hospital, York, Penn.
Lake, Albert W., 18; Aug. 11, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; d. Dec. 8, '63,
Fort Foote.

488 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Lamphear, Franklin A., 18; Aug. 5, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Nov. 18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Lapham, Ira B., 32; Dec. 30, '63, Macedon; Dec. 30; wd. June
3, '64, Gold Harbor; d. June 27, '64, hospital, Alexandria.
Lashier, John B., 44; Dec. 19, '63, Covert; Dec. 26; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lewis, Simeon, 21; Dec. 28, '63, Oswego; Dec. 28; d. July 12,
'64, hospital, Frederick Md., of wounds received on the 9th
at Monocacy.
Livingston, George M., 33; Jan. 4, '64, Bolivar; Jan. 4; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Oct. 22, '64, from hospital, An
napolis, Md. ; no further record.
Lockwood, William H, 20; July 23, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; Sergt, Nov. 18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
London, John, 23; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland; Jan. 19; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Dec. 20, '64, Danville.
Lovell, Chester P., 26; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Artificer,
April 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
McDaniels, Cribean, 24; Aug. 2, '62, Victory; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
McGarr, Daniel, 19; Aug. 7, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; d. Nov. 29, '62,
Fort Mansfield.
McGrain, John, 18; Jan. 11, '64, Elmira; Jan. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McGuire, Frank, 20; Dec. 18, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 21; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McNamara, Dennis, 36; Dec. 30, '63, Lyons; Jan. 4, '64; trans.
June 27, '65. 2d N. Y. H. A.
McNett, Alonzo, 36; Aug. 14, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; dis. May 16, '65,
York, Penn.
McNulty, Michael, 26; Dec. 24, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 24; wd. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor; promoted 2d Lieut.
Manigan, Timothy, 21; Aug. 14, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; k. June 2, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Meade, Jacob, 22; Dec. 29, '63, Oswego; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mickle, Andrew H, 28 ; Aug. 4, '62, Conquest ; Sept. 8 ; deserted
Feb. 15, '63.
Miller, Austin, 35; Jan. 2, '64, Butler; Jan. 4; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Miller, Charles W., 18; Nov. 24, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; d. Aug.
22, '64, hospital, Washington.
Miller, George, 21; July 30, '62, Victory; Sept. 8; Corp., April
6, '64; d. June 12, hospital, Alexandria, from wounds re
ceived June 6 at Cold Harbor.
Miller, James, 31; Sept. 9, '64, Syracuse; 1 year; dis. June 16,
'65, Washington.
Miller, Murray H; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.

COMPANY C 489
Miller, Peter, 22; Aug. 4, '62, Cato; Aug. 5; dis. as Sergt. June
13, '65, Washington.
Mills, Matthew, 19; Jan. 9, '64, Macedon; Jan. 11; k. June 1,
. '64, Cold Harbor.
Montgomery, George, 18; Feb. 15, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 15; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Moore, John, 18; Jan. 8, '64, Macedon; Jan. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Morrison, Isaac, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Marion; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Morton, Franklin, 21; Dec. 25, '63, Mexico; Dec. 25; dis. June
28, '65, Philadelphia.
Myers, Nicholas, 18; July 4, '63, Sterling; July 13; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Northrop, David, 18; Aug. 6, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov. 19,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Paulston, John, 23; Jan. 11, '64, Cortland; Jan. 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Peck, Eli, 23; Aug. 12, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; d. Feb. 4, '64,
Fort Foote.
Petty, Dudley B., 18; Aug. 31, '64, Conquest; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. 0., July 6, '65.
Pierce, Willard, 19; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. Aug. 31, '65.
Porter, Robert, 29; Dec. 5, '63, Auburn; Dec 30; wd. Cold Har
bor; d. June 3, '65, hospital, Washington.
Putnam, Jacob J., 22; July 23, '63, Cato; trans. April 18, '64,
V. R. C.
Richardson, James, 20; Dec. 29, '63, Huron; Jan. 2, '64; d., no
date, on ship Thomas A. Morgan; body brought to Fort
Monroe July 4, '64.
Richardson, Richard, 44; July 30, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Corp.;
prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
Rif enberg, Melvin, 23 ; Jan. 2, '64, Macedon ; Jan. 2 ; no M. O.
Roe, Thomas, 21; Dec. 16, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 16; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 19, '64, Danville.
Ryan, Thomas, 21; June 27, '63, Elmira; July 13; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sabin, Francis, 18; July 1, '63, Hannibal; July 13; d. Nov. 12,
'63, Fort Foote.
Sattler, Peter, 40; Jan. 13, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 13; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. H, 12th N. Y. Vols.
Sawyer, William E., 18; Dec. 30, '63, New York; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Schlienger, Clement H., 35; Aug. 23, '64, Cato; Aug. 23, 1 year;
wd. April 2, '64, Petersburg; dis. June 22, '65, hospital,
Washington.
Schuller, Michael, 21; Sept. 10, '64, Rochester; 1 year; wd., no
date; trans. April 1, '65, V. R. C.

490 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Seely, Thomas, 28; Dec. 16, '64, New York; Dec. 16; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Servoss, Jay C, 29; Jan. 4, '64, Auburn; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Setright, Patrick, 29; Sept. 1, '64, Cato-, Sept. 2, 1 vear; wd.
Oct. 19, '64^ Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sherman, Stephen E., 22; July 28, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; d.
Dec. 13, '63, Fort Foote.
Sidman, John, 18; Feb. 2, '64, Conquest; Feb. 6; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sidman, Jonas, 18; Aug. 31, '64, Conquest; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Sigsbee, Nicholas, 18; Oct. 22, '63, Sterling; Nov. 19; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Aug. 9, '64, Staunton, Va., on his
way to rebel prison.
Sisson, Benjamin, 23; Jan. 1, '64, Bolivar; Jan. 1; wd. June 1,
'64; Cold Harbor; dis. Sept. 7, '65, hospital, Philadelphia;
Vet. Co. I, 85th N. Y. Vols.
Skinner, Byron J., 20; Dec. 19, '63, Marion; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Skinner, Jeremiah, 23; Dec. 5, '63, Auburn; Dec. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sleyton, Burton H, 18; Aug. 12, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Dec. 26, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sly, William S., 18; Feb. 12, '64, Dewitt; Feb. 12; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Edmund S., 28; Aug. 27, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, Sergt;
k. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor.
Smith, George W., 40; Aug. 13, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; deserted
Aug. 14, '63, Fort Gaines.
Smith, Lemuel, 25; Nov. 9, '64, New York; Nov. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Serenus L., 45; Feb. 10, '64, Geddes; Feb. 10; dis. July
18, '65, Syracuse.
Smith, Wellington, 24; Dec. 29, '63, Macedon; Dec. 29; prisoner
July 9, '64~ Monocacy; dis. Aug. 15, '65, Rochester.
Snyder, Walter, 21; Aug. 30, '64, Auburn; Aug. 30, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Sours, William, 32; Dec. 27, '63, Macedon; Dec. 27; d. July 14,
'64, Frederick, Md., from wounds received July 9 at Mo
nocacy.
Southwick, Allen, 20; Aug. 13, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; dis. March 27,
'63, Fort Simmons.
Southwick, Benjamin, 20; Aug. 13, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; deserted
Feb. 15, '63, Fort Gaines.
Spinning, William M., 27; Aug. 11, '62, Cato; Sept. 8, Wagoner;
Bugler, Jan. 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Stevenson, David, 21; June 26, '63, Auburn; Jan. 26, '63; Corp.,
Nov. 18, '64; Sergt., March 8, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d
N. Y. H. A.; M. O. as Sergt.

COMPANY C. 491
Strickland, Leander, 21 ; Aug. 7, '62, Cato ; Sept. 8 ; Corp., March
8, '64; wd. Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Switzer, Henry, 20; July 28, '64, Conquest; Aug. 6; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Thompson, John N., 26; Aug. 13, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; dis.
May 15, '65, in the field.
Tibbits, Henry A., 21; July 8, '63, Elmira; July 13; wd. Cold
Harbor; dis. June 29, '65, Philadelphia.
Tifft, James W-, 23; Aug. 6, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Timerson, Oscar F., 18; Jan. 8, '64, Lebanon; Jan. 18; d. Nov.
11, '64, Frederick, Md.
Todd, William, 38; Dec. 26, '63, Macedon; Dec. 28; wd. July 9,
'64, Monocacy; trans. Jan. 20, '65, Co. K, 11th Regt.,V. R. C.
Town, Joel, 23; Aug. 4, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; deserted Feb. 18,
'63, Fort Gaines.
Townsend, Smith, 22; Aug. 30, '64, Conquest; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Trotter, Henry, 18; Dec 28, '63, Macedon; Feb. 6, '64; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Aug. 8, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Trumbull, Charles W., 18; Dec. 26, '63, Marion; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Tucker, James, 43; Dec. 16, '63, Covert; Dec. 22; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Jan. 28, '65, Danville, Va.
Utter, Thomas D., 42; Jan. 4, '64, Bolivar; Jan. 4; wd. April 2,
'65, Petersburg; dis. Aug. 12, '65, hospital, Elmira.
Vandervoort, Martin L., 19; Jan. 4, '64, Geddes; Jan. 5; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 15 in the field.
Vanhee, Adrian, 21 ; Jan. 4, '64, Marion ; Jan. 5 ; d. June 25, '64,
hospital, Washington.
Van Horn, Henry H, 22; July 24, '62, Cato; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Van Vleck, Granger, 18; Jan. 1, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5; wd. June
10, '64, Cold Harbor, and July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Van Vleck, Henry, 42; Aug. 11, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; d. June
14, '65, from wounds received April 2 at Petersburg.
Walker, James H, 23; Sept. 6, '64, Albany; Sept. 6, 1 year;
M. 0., July 6, '65.
Watson, Elisha, 22; Aug. 13, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Weaver, Andrus, 45; July 24, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; trans.
Feb. 3, '65, 4th Co., 2d Bat., V. R. C.
Westfall, Sidney J., 19; Sept. 3, '64, Auburn; 1 year; lost right
arm Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. Aug. 18, '65, hospital,
Albany.
Wheaden, Lucius, 45; Dec. 10, '63, Auburn; no M. O.
Wheeler, William H., 30; Dec. 15, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 15;
prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Aug. 5, '65, Rochester.

492 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Whiting, Bronson, 18; Dec. 22, '63, Brutus; Jan. 4, '64; wd. June
3, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. July 14, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Whiting, Joel S., 18; Dec. 13, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 31; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wilkes, Samuel, 23; July 31, '62, Victory; Sept. 8; Corp., April
6, '64; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Wilkins, Charles, 30; Jan. 25, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 25; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wood, George W., 44; Dec. 31, '63, Clay; Dec. 31; wd. June 3,
'64, Cold Harbor; dis. March 17, '65, hospital, Washington.
Worden, Culver, 22; Aug. 23, '64, New York; Aug. 23, 1 year;
d. Dec. 17, '64, Harper's Ferry.
COMPANY D.
This came pretty near being, exclusively, a Lyons company.
The commissioned officers were from that town, and with few
exceptions the men were also. The earliest name enrolled as
given by the adjutant general was that of Corporal John L.
Snyder, Aug. 8; then there is a break till we reach the 11th
with John Albaugh, Charles E. Knox and Albert J. Snyder.
After that enlistments were brisk to the 26th, when apparently
the polls were closed, the company being full. As the dates are
given, it would seem that the work was practically all done in
about ten days, an exceedingly creditable piece of work to those
who engineered it.
While Lyons furnished the majority of the men, the neighbor
ing towns of Sodus, Huron, Rose and Galen contributed a few
members. CAPTAINS.
Charles L. Lyon, 29; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; date of rank,
Aug. 22; dis. Feb. 16, '64.
George W. Bacon, from Co. F, Jan. 8, '64; dis. Aug. 15, '64.
John F, Stewart, from 1st Lieut., Feb. 18, '65 ; rank from Feb.
3; M. O., July 6, '65.
Lewis D. Williams, from 1st Lieut., Sept. 28, '64; rank from
Aug. 15; not mustered; dis. Nov. 28, '64.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Anson S. Wood, 27; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, 1st Lieut.;
rank from Aug. 22; acting Adjutant after Dec. 25, '62;
Adjutant, March 14, '63; trans. June 5, '63, to Co. M as
Captain.
Samuel C. Redgrave, from 2d Lieut., June 6, '63; rank from
April 14; dis. April 1, '64.
Lewis D. Williams, from 1st Sergt., May 2, '64; rank from April
4; wd. at Monocacy; promoted Captain.

COMPANY D.

Capt. Geo. W. Bacon. Capt. Chas. L. Lyon. Wm. Burt.
1st Lieut. J. H. Ellis (E). 1st Lieut. S. C. Regrave. Byzant Luckas. Sergt. N. G. York.
Chas. McDowell. E. W. Newberry. Sergt. H L. Munn.

COMPANY D.

493

Orrin B. Carpenter, from 2d Lieut, Sept; 28; rank from Aug.
15, '64; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
John F. Stewart, from 2d Lieut., Nov. 14, '64; promoted Capt.
George R. Watson, from Co. I, Dec 27, '64; resigned June 1, '65.
Lewis Barton, from 2d Lieut, and Quartermaster, Feb. 3, '65;
M. O., July 6, '65. SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Samuel C. Redgrave, 25 ; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons ; Sept. 8 ; rank from
Aug. 22; promoted 1st Lieut.
Orrin B. Carpenter, from 1st Sergt., June 5, '63 ; rank from April
14; promoted 1st Lieut.
Samuel W. Lape, from Sergt, April 7, '64; rank from Feb. 17;
dismissed Sept. 12, '64.
Lewis Barton, from Sergt., Nov. 14, '64; promoted 1st Lieut.
John F. Stewart, from Co. G, Oct. 16, '64; date of rank, Sept. 28;
promoted 1st Lieut.
George B. Voorhies, from Sergt., Feb. 11, '65; rank from Jan.
4; M. O., July 6, '65.
Benjamin F. Hoffman, from Co. G, March 2, '65; rank from Nov.
12, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Adams, George, 41; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Jan. 17,
'64, Fort Simmons.
Albaugh, James, 21; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; d. Nov. 29,
'62, Fort Simmons.
Albaugh, John, 1st, 27; Aug. 11, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Oct.
10, '63, hospital, Washington.
Albaugh, John, 2d, 21; Aug. 21, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; d. Dec. 7,
'62, Fort Simmons.
Allen, Levi F., 31; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt.,
April 10, '63; d. Sept. 16, '63, hospital, Washington.
Allen, Willard T., 20; Jan. 1, '64, Lyons; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; had served two years in Co. B, 27th
N.Y.
Andrews, Henry F., 23; Dec. 25, '63, Sodus; Dec. 25; dis. May 8,
'64, to enter U. S. Navy.
Angel, Eben H, 22; Jan. 5, '64, Otisco; Jan. 5; dis. June 17, '65,
hospital, Fortress Monroe.
Anson, William, 18; Dec. 16, '63, Huron; Dec. 21; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Armstrong, Thomas, 32; Aug. 16, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, .'65.
Baker, Hudson T., 18 ; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons ; Sept. 8 ; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Baker, Tallman P., 43; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. July 15,
'65, hospital, Rochester.

494 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Barton, Lewis, 26; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Sergt.; promoted
2d Lieut.
Berkley, Frederick, 24; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; wd. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Billings, Silas H, 20; Jan. 25, '64, Lafayette; Jan. 25; wd. Sept.
19, '64; dis. Jan. 26, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Poland, Andrew, 33; Oct. 29, '64, New York; Oct. 29, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Boss, George, 33; Jan. 3, '64, Lyons; Jan. 11; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bostwick, Joseph L., 35; Jan. 5, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bourne, Joseph, 23; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. March 7,
'64, Fort Foote.
Boyer, William H, 24; Sept. 10, '64, Lockport; Sept. 12, 1 year;
dis. Aug. 28, '65, Elmira.
Boyst, John, 21; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb. 19,
'65; wd. April 6, '65, Petersburg; M. O., July 6, '65.
Bremer, William, 18; Dec. 28, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bridenboker, Jacob, 40; Jan. 6, '64, Brunswick; Jan. 8; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Brown, Byron, 18; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. June 26, '65,
Annapolis.
Brundage, Samuel W., 23; Sept. 8, '64, Sodus; Sept. 12, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Bullock, Nathan, 25; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Burke, Michael, 42; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 6, '64,
Camp Distribution, Va.
Burns, George E., 19; Dec. 14, '63, Rose; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Burns, James W., 19; Aug. 19, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; Corp., July 6,
'63; Sergt., April 18, '65; wd. June 3, '64, Cold Harbor;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Burt, William, 41; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; wd. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Bush, Kellogg C, 21; Jan. 28, '64, Lafayette; Jan. 28; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; dis. May 15, '65, in the field.
Button, Elliott H., 28; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Button, Sanford E., 21; Jan. 4, '64, Clay; Jan. 4; dis. Dec. 12,
'64, hospital, Washington; Vet. Co. H, 149th N. Y. Vols.
Butts, Luke A., 18; Jan. 14, '64, Phelps; Jan. 28; deserted Dec.
4, '64.
Carothers, Robert, 25; Sept. 3, '64, Scipio; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Carpenter, Orrin B., 35; Aug. 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.

COMPANY D. 495
Christian, Marcus, 20; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clapp, Henry R., 18; Sept. 5, Wolcott; Sept. 6; dis. May 22, '65,
Baltimore.
Clark, Dwight C, 18; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clark, George, 18; April 1, '63, Lyons; deserted Dec. 16, '63.
Clark, James, 14; Dec. 19, '62, Dist. Columbia; Dec. 19, Musi
cian; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clark, John, 19; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; d. Dec. 14, '64, in
front of Petersburg.
Clark, Joseph, 24; Sept. 17, '64, Albany; 1 year; dis. Sept. 7, '65,
Elmira.
Clark, Lewis H, 2d, 23; Dec. 28, '63, Sodus; wd. July 9, '64,
Monocacy; dis. Oct. 3, '64.
Clark, Merrick, 21; Dec. 18, Lyons; Dec. 29; prisoner Aug. 17,
'64, Winchester; dis. June 27, '65, Annapolis.
Clark, Vincent E., 31; Dec. 31, '63, Spafford; Dec. 31; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 26, '65, Annapolis.
Cobb, John G, 22; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland; Jan. 4; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Oct. 14 on cars between Danville and
Richmond.
Comstock, John L., 21 ; Jan. 18, '64, Syracuse ; Jan. 25 ; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; trans. Jan. 28, '65, Co. C, 21st Regt.,
V. R. C.
Conklin, John, 18; Dec. 18, '63, Elbridge; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cook, James, 18; Jan. 20, '64, Camillus; Jan. 20; dis. May 15,
'65, in the field.
Coventry, Marcus A., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. May
13, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Crowfoot, Charles, 20; Dec. 19, '63, Dewitt; Dec 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Darling, Martin, 24; Feb. 1, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 2; dis. June 8,
'65, hospital, York, Penn.
Darling, Philip E., 20; Dec. 30, '63, Savannah; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Davenport, Franklin W., 24; Aug. 13, '62, Huron; feepi. 8; d.
Oct. 4, '63, Fort Foote.
Davis, Edwin G, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; wd. July 9,
'64, Monocacy; trans. Jan. 16, '65, Co. H, 3d Regt, V. R. C.
Dayton, Wilson J., 35; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dean, John, 23; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; k. June 8, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Dean, Joseph M., Jr., 19; Dec. 19, '63, Lyons; Dec. 29; no M. O.
Deming, Marvin K., 33; Dec 12, '63, Galen; Dec 12; trans. Jan.
31, '65, V. R. C.
Dennis, John, 44; Dec. 19, '63, Phelps; Dec. 19; k. June 7, '64,
Cold Harbor.

496 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Deuel, Walter, 40; Dec. 24, Galen; Dec. 29; wd., no data; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Drake, Benson, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Arcadia; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
18, '64; Sergt, June 25, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dunbar, Levi H, 29; Aug. 14, Lyons; Sept. 8, Corp.; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dunn, Harrison, 21; Aug. 26, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Dunn, Homer C, 18; Aug. 16, Lyons; Sept. 8; detailed to serve
as sharpshooter Oct., '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dunning, Edwin P., 30; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp.,
March 19, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. July 15,
'65, Annapolis.
Ehart, Michael, 22; Dec. 18, '63, Lyons; Dec. 29; wd. Cold Har
bor; dis. July 6, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Ellis, James H., 19; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept 8, Sergt.; pro
moted Quartermaster Sergt., Non-com. Staff, Sept. 8, '62.
Ellis, John L., 33; Dec. 30, '63, Lyons; Jan. 4; trans. Oct. 14, '64,
V. R. C.
Everhart, Joseph J., 19; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
8, '64, Fort Foote.
Falch, Charles F., 27; Dec 28, '63, Lafayette; Dec. 28; wd. Sept.
19, '64, Winchester; dis. July 6, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Filoon, John W., 24; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., June
26, '63; k. Sept. 19, '64, Winchester.
Finch, John T., 21; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. May 8, '64,
to enlist in U. S. Navy.
Fish, David, 29; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Fitzgerald, Edward, 42; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Nov.
17, '63, New York.
Fleming, Joseph, 30; Sept. 2, '64, China; trans. June 27, '65, 2d
N. Y. H. A.
Fleming, Melvin, 18; Jan. 11, '64, Sodus; trans. June 27, '65, 2d
N. Y. H. A.
Fuchs, Philip F., 20; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Sergt, Dec.
18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Gardner, Marcus, 33; Dec. 31, '63, Otisco; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gavin, William, 22; Aug. 23, '64, Wheatfield; Aug. 23; trans-
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; thence, Aug. 5, '65, to 52d N.
Y. Vols.
Geer, Harvey, Jr., 19; Aug. 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Geiger, Frederick, 37; Oct. 7, '64, Kingston; Oct. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Genthner, Jacob F., 18; Sept. 8, '64, Sodus; Sept. 12, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Genthner, John, 19; Sept. 6, '64, Marcellus; Sept. 6, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY D. 497
Genthner, Rudolph, 18; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. June
26, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Gilkie, Giles, 20; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; wd. in camp Jan.
12, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Golding, William, 21; Feb. 12, '63, Lyons; Feb. 12; dis. April 18,
'64, to enlist in U. S. Navy.
Goodman, Francis O., 33; Jan. 5, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 5; M. O.,
July 7, '65, hospital, Washington.
Goseline, Joseph M., 21; April 29, '63, Lyons; April 29; wd.
Sept. 19, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gunther, Charles, 25; Sept. 22, '64, Wilson; Sept. 22, 1 year;
dis. June 14, hospital, York, Penn.
Hall, Charles K., 23; Dec. 19, '63, Lafayette; Dec. 19; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hall, Hamilton, 21; Aug. 30, Mentz; Aug. 30, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hanna, James P., 25; Aug. 21, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., April
10, '63; Sergt., Feb. 19, '65; wd. Sept. 19, Winchester;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Harrington, Frederick, 43; Aug. 18, '64, Auburn; Aug. 18, 1
year ; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Harris, Wallace, 19; Aug. 30, '64, Mentz; Aug. 30, 1 year; dis.
May 12, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Hart, John W., 18; Oct. 14, '63, Lyons; Aug. 14; dis. May 31,
'65, Washington.
Haskell, Darius, 39; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Hasselback, Simon, 23; Dec. 18, '63, Lyons; Dec. 21; wd. Sept.
19, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Havens, Dewitt, 32; Dec. 31, Spafford; Dec. 31; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Oct. 26, '64, Danville.
Heck, William, 21; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., June
23, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Herrick, William, 18; Dec. 18, '63, Elbridge; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hilliard, Thomas, 44 ; Dec 16, '63, Lyons ; Dec. 21 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; had served in 27th N. Y. Vols.
Hodges, William, 21; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Hoeltzel, George, 24; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. May 30,
'65, hospital, York, Penn.
Hoeltzel, Henry, 27; Aug. 13, '62, Sodus; Sept. 8; dis. May 28,
'63, Washington.
Hotaling, Guy T., 17; Jan. 20, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 20; d. July 22,
'64, hospital, Baltimore.
Houghkirk, Garrett, 37; Jan. 20, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 26; wd., no
date; dis. June 20, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Houghkirk, Silas H., 19; Jan. 16, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 19; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
32

498 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Howe, Eland, 28; Jan. 4, '64, Manlius; Jan. 4; k. June 4, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Hudson, Enos, 44; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; prisoner June
1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. June 19, '65, Annapolis.
Jeffers, Benjamin, 23; Jan. 18, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 18; prisoner
on march to Cold Harbor, June, '64 ; d. July 26, '64, Ander
sonville.
Johnson, Mark P., 29; Aug. 13, '62, Sodus; Sept. 8; trans, to 24th
V. R. C.
Jones, David, 21; Feb. 24, '63, Lyons; Feb. 24; dis. April 16, '63,
Fort Simmons.
Judd, James H., 27; June 27, '63, Galen; June 27; deserted Mar.
25, '64, Fort Foote.
Kelly, John, 21; June 3, '63, Elmira; June 3; deserted July 10,
'63, Fort Thayer.
Kelly, John, 40; Jan. 4, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 5; trans. Jan. 1,
'65, V. R. C.
King, William H., 25; Sept. 5, '64, Walworth; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Kinney, Irving, 21; Dec 19, '63, Dewitt; Dec. 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kirnagen, John, 18; Sept. 5, '64, Onondaga; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Klumpp, George, 1st, 19; Feb. 20, '64, Lyons; Feb. 20; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Klumpp, George, 2d, 35; Sept. 6, '64, Elbridge; Sept. 6, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Knapp, Hiram M., 36; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. May 15,
'65, Washington.
Knox, Charles E., 24; Aug. 11, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Kurtz, Andrew, 29; Dec. 17, '63, Auburn; Jan. 2, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kurtz, John J., 31; Dec. 17, '63, Auburn; Jan. 2; d. Nov. 2, '64,
hospital, Annapolis; had been a prisoner of war.
Lafaver, Henry, 18; June 8, '63, Galen; June 8; deserted Dec.
16, '63.
Lape, Samuel W., 32; Aug. 13, '62, Sodus; Sept. 8, Sergt; pro
moted 2d Lieut.
Latimer, Charles W., 18; Dec. 30, '63, Lyons; Jan. 2, '65; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lemmon, Elias S., 23 ; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons ; Sept. 8 ; dis. Aug. 10,
'63, Fort Simmons.
Leroy, Isaac, 18; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Loomis, Henry, 18; Jan. 25, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 25; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lovett, Gharles, 22; Sept. 5, '64, Lyons; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Lowe, John F., 18; Dec. 18, '64, New York; 1 year; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY D. 499
Lowe, William, 19; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Luckas, Byzant, 21; Aug. 15, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. June 12,
'64, hospital, Washington, from wounds received at Cold
Harbor.
McCarthy, Dennis, 18; Jan. 14, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 14; dis. May
15, '65, in the field.
McDaniels, William, 20; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; deserted
July 6, '63.
McDowell, Charles, 25; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
McDowell, David, 21; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
McMullen, Daniel, 44; Dec. 28, '63, Sodus; Dec. 28; d. Aug. 26,
'64, hospital, New York.
Marigold, Frederick, 18; Sept. 3, '64, Ontario; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Marr, Daniel, 18; Feb. 19, '64, Canandaigua; Feb. 19; k. June
10, '64, Cold Harbor.
Mastin, Theodore D., 24; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; deserted
Nov. 24, '62.
Miller, Jacob, 22; Sept. 6, '64, Elbridge; Sept. 6, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Munn, Hiram L., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt.,
March 19, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July
6, '65.
Myers, Valentine, 37; Sept. 5, '64, Onondaga; 1 year; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 28, '65, hospital, York, Penn.
Newbury, Eben W., 21; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 25, '65, hospital, York, Pa.
Norton, James R., 22; Sept. 14, '64, Sodus; Sept. 14, 1 year; dis.
June 10, '65, hospital, Washington.
Odell, Lorenzo, 18; Feb. 7, '63, Lyons; Feb. 23; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ost, John, 22; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; d. April 2, '64, Fort
Foote.
Owen, Thomas, 18; Feb. 19, '64, Canandaigua; Feb. 19; Corp.,
June 6, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Parrish, Norman A., 20; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp.,
March 19, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Peck, Hiram, 41; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; d. Feb. 2, '65, Danville, Va.
Perkins, John L., 23; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Aug. 18, '64, Danville, Va.
Pflug, Jacob, 19; Feb. 8, '64, Lyons; Feb. 11; Corp., April 18,
'65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Phillips, Charles A., 28; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Feb
8, '64, Fort Foote.
Pierce, Orville, 19; Sept. 3, '64, Scipio; Sept. 3, 1 year; M O
July 6, '65.

500 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Pomeroy, George P., 33; Jan. 5, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 5; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Porter, Henry, 21; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; k. June 6, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Pudney, Richard D., 21; Sept. 8, '64, Sodus; Sept. 9, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Quinn, John, 22; Jan. 22, '63, Lyons; Jan. 22; deserted Oct. 8, '63.
Randall, Marion A., 20; June 20, '63, Galen; June 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rannische, William, 29; Jan. 20, '64, Farmington; Jan. 23; dis.
July 8, '65.
Reynolds, Aaron I., 21; Aug. 21, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Musician;
d. April 23, '64, Fort Foote.
Reynolds, John, 25; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov. 18,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Rhodes, William, 19; Jan. 14, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 14; dis. Nov. 5,
'64, hospital, Washington.
Riggs, Levi, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., March 19,
'64; prisoner July 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Rinehart, Andrew, 42; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; k. Sept.
19, '64, Winchester.
Rooker, George, 19; Jan. 4, '64, Sennett; Jan. 4; Corp., May 4.
'64; dis. July 6, '65, Washington.
Rooker, Henry, 22; Jan. 1, '64, Lyons; Jan. 4; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; had served in 27th N. Y. Vols.
Rooker, John, 23; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Corp.; prisoner
Dec. 12, '62, Dumfries, Va.; M. O., July 6, '65.
Roys, Daniel W., 18; Aug. 12, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Feb. 6, '65, Danville, Va.
Roys, James S., 20; Aug. 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Wagoner;
Corp., May 19, '64; Sergt., Nov. 18, '64; 1st Sergt, March 3,
'65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Rudd, James H., 20; Sept. 3, '64, Geneva; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Ryan, Edward E., 44; Aug. 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; trans. Jan.
1, '65, V. R. C.
Schnatterback, Joseph, 37; Jan. 1, '64, Cortland; Jan. 1; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Schofield, Evart, 19; Jan. 11, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 11; deserted
Sept. 14, '64.'
Scott, Cornelius, 19; Dec. 11, '63, Farmington; Dec. 16, Co. K;
trans, to Co. D March 6, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.
Scott, Cyrus, 41; July 13, '63, Auburn; in Co. K; trans. March
8, '64, to Co. D; dis. April 20, '64, Fort Baker.
Seager, Asher W., 20; Aug. 21, '62, Lyons; Sept 8; Corp., Nov.
18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Seager, Benjamin, 23; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,
March 19, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY D. 501
Sedore, David, 18; Dec 24, '63, Galen; Dec. 29, Co. H; trans, to
Co. D Jan. 29, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Seeley, Milton, 41; Dec. 21, '63, Sodus; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shane, Pearse, 22; Sept. 3, '64, Syracuse; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O...
July 6, '65.
Shannon, Samuel L., 23; Aug. 14, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Shaw, John P., 24; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., April 10,
'63; Sergt, Aug. 6, '63; dis. Feb. 8, '63, Fort Foote.
Shean, George, 32; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Shean, Theodore, 24; June 19, '63, Galen; June 19; trans. April
' 18, '64, V. R. C.
Siebert, George, 20; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O..
July 6, '65.
Snitzel, John C, 19; Sept. 6, '64, Elbridge; Sept. 6, 1 year; dis.
July 15, '65, Albany.
Snitzel, John H., 20; Aug. 29, '64, Auburn; Aug. 29, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Snyder, Albert J., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Sodus; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Snyder, John L., 26 ; Aug. 8, '62, Lyons ; Sept. 8, Corp. ; dis. June
25, '64, in the field.
Spahr, Caspar, 27; Aug. 26, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 8, '64,
Fort Foote.
Spahr, George, 21; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., March
19, '64; d. Aug. 11, '64, Frederick, Md., from wounds re
ceived July 9 at Monocacy.
Spencer, Albert, 20; Jan. 1, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 11; wd. Cold Har
bor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. K, 101st
N. Y. Vols.
Staats, Charles, 20; Sept. 2, '64, Wilson; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Stebbins. Fred, 36; April 8, '63, Lyons; April 8; Chief Bugler,
April, '63; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Stell, Frederick, 24; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Sept. 25, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Storrs, Leonard H, 18; Jan. 19, '64, South Bristol; Feb. 2, '64;
dis. Sept. 20, '65, Elmira.
Taft, James N., 20; Sept. 3, '64, Genoa; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Talhurst, Amos, 43; Aug. 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. June 23,
'65, Harper's Ferry.
Taylor, Henry, 18; Jan. 10, '64, Phelps; Jan. 29; dis. July 2, '65.
Taylor, James K., 18; Jan. 1, '64, Otisco; Jan. 1; dis. May 19,
'65, hospital, Annapolis.
Tice, John, 39; April 27, '63, Lyons; April 27; dis. Feb. 8, '64,
Fort Foote.

502 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Tindall, Myron P., 32; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 8,-
'64, Fort Foote.
Tinney, James A., 19; Sept. 3, '64, Ontario; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Traverse, William, 18; June 17, '63, Galen; June 17; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Tryan, Jay H., 32; Dec. 22, '63, Lyons; Dec. 28; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Tuttle, Abel G., 44; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland; Jan. 4; dis. Jan. 13,
'65, Washington.
Van Derbilt, Abram H, 27; Aug. 22, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp.,
March 19, '64; wd. June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Jan. 30,
'65, hospital, Washington.
Van Inwagen, Littleton, 20; Aug. 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Vickery, Jonathan W., 19; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Feb. 19, '65; Sergt., June 6, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Voorhees, George B., 18; Aug. 21, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Sergt.,
April 4, '64; promoted 2d Lieut
Wager, William, 23; Aug. 14, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Walls, William, 36; Dec. 11, '62, Galen; Dec. 29; dis. May 23,
'65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Walmsley, Albert, 18; Jan. 18, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 18; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Walmsley, Henry, 18; Dec. 23, '63, Galen; Dec. 29, in Co. H;
' trans, to Co. D Jan. 29, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.
Warn, Charles S., 21; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb.
18, '63; 1st Sergt, May 19, '64; dis. April 25, '65, for pro
motion 1st Lieut., 13th U. S. Colored Troops.
Way, David, 26; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; prisoner about
June 14, '64, near Chickahominy river; confined in Rich
mond June 16; later sent to Andersonville, and not heard
from afterward.
Wells, Elisha D., 23; Aug. 15, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. 0., July
6, '65.
Wesley, Hartman, 44; March 17, '63, Lyons; March 17; dis.
June 14, '65, Washington.
Westbrook, Charles, 34; Aug. 15, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. June
21, '65, hospital, York, Penn.
Williams, Joseph L., 31; Jan. 12, Verona; Jan. 20; trans. Oct.
15, '64, V. R. C.
Williams, Lewis D., 35; Aug. 13, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, '62, Corp.;
Sergt., Sept. 15, '62; 1st Sergt, June 26, '63; wd. July 9, '64,
Monocacy; promoted 1st Lieut.
Wilson, Thomas, 24; Dec 21, '63, Otisco; Dec. 21; wd. July 9,
'64, Monocacy; dis. May 31, hospital, Rochester; Vet. Co.
I, 3d N. Y. A.

COMPANY E. 503
Wimmensf older, William C, 32; Sept. 18, '64, Montezuma; Sept
20, 1 year; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 7, '65,
hospital, Philadelphia.
Woodard, David, 21; Aug. 21, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Musician;
deserted Nov. 24, '64.
Woodruff, Isaac, 21; Aug. 19, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Wooley, Charles M., 19; Sept. 2, '64, Montezuma; Sept. 2; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Worden, John V., 21; Jan. 18, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 18; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
York, Norman G., 27; Aug. 13, '62, Huron; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt, March 19, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; d.
Dec. 25, '64, Danville, Va.
York, Thomas, 30; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8, Sergt; dis. June
6, '65, Frederick, Md.
Zwilling, William, 23; Aug. 14, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. April
27, '64, Fort Baker.
COMPANY E.
The genesis of a company of soldiers is an exceedingly inter
esting subject. Sometimes the men come entirely from one
town or city; again they are the mergings of several localities
with some one place as the centre. Company E was peculiarly
a southern Cayuga organization. As originally constituted
there may have been a few from Auburn, but by far the ma
jority came from the south. Captain Cornwell of Scipio and
Lieutenant Stoyell of Moravia did a large part of the recruiting,
with Lieutenant S. F. Swift in Auburn looking after his vici
nage. Daniel Manchester of Scipio put down his name the 9th
day of August, and enlistment followed till September 5th.
Practically all the towns south of Auburn were interested, with
a frequent recurrence of Scipio, Venice and Moravia.
The burden of the enlisting was borne in the latter part of
August; only six names appear as added in September.
CAPTAINS.
Selah Cornwellj 36; Aug. 25, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8, Captain; rank
from Aug. 22; d. Nov. 1, '62, near Tennallytown, Md.
Henry Roessle, from Co. I, 29th N. Y. Vols., Dec. 16, '62; pro
moted Major 15th N. Y. Cav. March 17, '64; M. 0. as Lieut.
Col. at the close of the war. His record before joining the
Ninth: enlisted, age 20, May 18, '61, Albany; 2d Lieut., Dec.
2, '61; 1st Lieut, Oct. 2, '62.
William Hawley, from Co. G, May 28, '64 ; rank from March 16 ;
wd. July 9, '64, Monocacy; resigned Sept. 14, '64.
Orson Howard, from Co. I, Sept. 28, '64; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar
Creek.

504

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

John Tifft, from 1st Lieut., Dec. 16, '64, rank from Nov. 14;
M. O., July 6, '65. FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Seth F. Swift, 38; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, 1st Lieut; rank
from Aug. 24; resigned Feb. 23, '64.
Jakeway R. Hoff, from Co. A, March 1, '64; resigned Oct. 3, '64.
James H. Ellis, from 2d Lieut., May 28, '64; rank from March
17; k. July 9, '64, Monocacy.
John Tifft, from 2d Lieut, Sept. 28, '64; rank from July 9; pro
moted Captain.
Almon Holcomb, from 2d Lieut., Jan. 13, '65; rank from Nov.
29, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Vincent A. Kenyon, from 2d Lieut., March 1, '65; rank from
Feb. 3; M. O. as Adjutant, July 6, '65.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
George C. Stoyell, 22; Aug. 25, '62; Sept. 8, 2d Lieut.; rank from
Aug. 24 ; d. June 21, '63, Georgetown.
John Tifft, from 1st Sergt., Feb. 16, '63; rank from Jan. 21; pro
moted 1st Lieut.
James H. Ellis, from field and staff, April 8, '64 ; rank from Feb.
15 ; promoted 1st Lieut.
Almon Holcomb, from Corp., Co. C, Oct. 16, '64; rank from
April 4; promoted 1st Lieut.
Vincent A. Kenyon, from 1st Sergt, Dec. 16, '64; rank from
Nov. 14; promoted 1st Lieut.
Hiland H. Wheeler, Jr., from Co. A, Feb. 24, '65; trans. July 6,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. as 1st Lieut.
Robert L. Daniels, from 11th N. Y. Battery, Jan. 18, '65; trans.
July 6, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. He had enlisted, age 20, Dec.
23, '61, Albany, as private; re-enlisted, Jan. 23, '64, Brandy
Station. NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Ackles, Frank, 20; in Co. L, Oct. 23, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12;
trans., Feb. 26, Oo. E; d. July 12, '64, Frederick, Md., from
wounds received July 9 at Monocacy.
Ackles, Henry, 19; in Co. L, Oct. 30, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12;
trans., Feb. 26, Co. E; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Agard, Charles, 37; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Allen, Frederick S., 33; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 7, '63; d. Sept. 8, '63, Fort Foote.
Arnold, Benjamin A., 20; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., April 7, '63; 1st Sergt, July 21, '63; dis. May 4, '64.
Arnold, Thomas, 28; Aug. 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; deserted
April 27, '63.

2D LIEUT. G. C. STOYELL,
CAPTAIN SELAH COBNWELL, 1ST LIEUT. S. F. SWIFT.
COMPANY E.

COMPANY E. 505
Aspinwall, Nathaniel, 44; Aug. 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. July
4, '65, Fort Sumner.
Austin, Ansel P., 18; Dec. 30, '63, Covert; Dec. 30; dis. May 15,
65, hospital.
Austin, Henry K., Jr., 33; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
 , '63; Sergt., April 6, '64; 1st Sergt, May 16, '64; d.
July 3, '64, of wounds received June 1 at Cold Harbor.
Baker, George, 22; Jan. 9, '64, Scipio; Jan. 9; dis. July 2, '65.
Barber, Sylvester, 25; Sept. 8, '64, Farmington; Sept. 9, 1 year;
d. Oct. 27, '64, Baltimore, of wounds received, probably, at
Cedar Creek.
Barnes, Benjamin F., 31; Aug. 12, '62, Scipio; Aug. 25, Corp.:
Sergt, Sept. 25, '63; 1st Sergt., Dec 16, '64; promoted 1st
Lieut., Co. A.
Bassett, Joseph, 33; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year;
dis. May 17, '63, hospital.
Bassett, Thomas, 30; Aug. 26, '64, Skaneateles; Aug. 26; dis.
May 17, '65, hospital.
Bennett, John, 42; Aug. 27, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Aug. 19,
'63.
Benson, Eleazer, 34 ; Sept. 22, '64, Rochester ; Sept. 24 ; dis. June
30, '65.
Benson, Stephen H., 24; Oct. 17, '64, New York; Oct. 17; sun
struck, June 8, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bigelow, Henry L., 18; Dec. 24, '63, Caneadea; Dec. 24; k. July
9, '64, Monocacy.
Bradley, Schuyler, 28; Aug. 15, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; dis. Dec
31, '63.
Breed, Chauncey, 28; Dec. 21, Venice; Jan. 8, '64; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Breed, Frank F., 18; July 31, '63, Venice; Aug. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Breed, George, 18; July 31, '63, Venice; Aug. 4; dis. May 23, '63.
Breed, Harrison H., 24; Feb. 8, '64, Venice; dis. April 20, '64;
rejected recruit.
Brewster, James, 22; Sept. 5, '64, Lyons; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Bronson, Frank O., 19; Jan. 18, '64, Groton; Jan. 18; dis. May
15, '65, hospital.
Brooks, George W., 34; Aug. 13, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec.
13, '64; dis. May 15, '65.
Brown, Dwight, 17; Dec. 1, '63, Auburn; Dec. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Brown, Emmett J., 24; Sept. 1, '64, Auburn; Sept. 7, 1 year;
Corp., Oct. 18, '64; wd. April 2, '65; M. O., July 6, '65; Vet.
149th N. Y.
Buckley, Benjamin F., 24; Aug. 15, '62, Summer Hill; Sept. 8,
Sergt; 1st Sergt, Jan. 15, '63; dis. July 20, '63; promoted
2d Lieut, 3d U. S. Colored Troops; had served in 44th N.
Y. Infantry.

506 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Burke, Thomas, 26; Aug. 21, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Bush, Charles, 25; Jan. 18, '64, Lodi; Jan. 20; dis. May 15, '65.
Bush, Julius, 28; Aug. 14, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; dis. Jan. 20,
'64, hospital.
Caine, Charles R., 25; Aug. 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. March
13, '63.
Caine, Ira, 24; Aug. 18, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Corp., Sept. 1, '64;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Cannon, Edwin J., 26; Aug. 19, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Casler, Henry, 21; Aug. 15, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; wd. June, '64,
Cold Harbor; trans. Jan. 10, '65, V. R. C.
Casler, Jacob, 18; Aug. 15, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; k. June 3, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Casler, John, 24; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; deserted Nov. 9,
'62.
Casler, Oliver M., 27; Aug. 15, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 28,
'65, in the field.
Cater, Charles, 18; Aug. 21, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., May
16, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 9, '65, hos
pital.
Caton, Hugh, 32; Feb. 22, '64, Harford; Feb. 22; wd. Cold Har
bor; dis. June 5, .'65, hospital.
Chaffee, James, 18; Dec. 19, '63, Fabius; Dec. 19; Corp., March
4, '65; prisoner April 2, '65, Petersburg; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Chambers, Jeremiah, 31; Aug. 31, '64, Schenectady; Aug. 31, 1
year;M. O., July 6, '65.
Chaplain, Isaac, 42; Sept. 12, '64, Macedon; Sept. 12, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Clark, Thomas," 32; Aug. 20, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., July
21, '63; d. Sept. 27, '63, Fort Foote.
Clemons, Julius E., 18; Sept. 6, '64, Conesus; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Clemons, Royal R., 21; Sept. 6, '64, Conesus; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Cobb, Alton E., 19; Dec. 31, '63, Montgomery; Dec. 31; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Condon, Isaac, 30; Dec. 26, '63, Venice; Dec. 26; no M. O.
Conroy, Henry, 29 ; Aug. 20, '62, Auburn ; Sept. 8, Corp. ; Sergt.,
April 7, '63; k. July 9, '64, Monocacy.
Cook, Darius M., 44; Sept. 5, '64, Ledyard; Sept. 5, 1 year; k.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Corbett, John, 21; Oct. 29, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 5, '63; deserted
June 16, '65.
Corcoran, Stephen, 42; Aug. 29, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. July
1, '65, hospital, Washington.
Corlies, Charles M., 24; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Corp..
Oct. 3, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY E, 507
Covey, Edwin, 18; Nov. 26, '63, Moravia; Dec. 2; trans. Nov. 2,
'64, V. R. C.
Covey, Silas M., 43; Dec. 31, '63, Venice; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cowan, Ephraim W., 40; Aug. 22, '62, Ledyard; Sept. 8; trans.
April 18, '64, V. R. C.
Coy, Edwin G., 23; Aug. 11, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; d. Sept. 27, '64,
Fort Reno.
Crowfoot, Charles F., 19; Aug. 13, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; dis. Aug.
29, '64.
Culver, Francis M., 28; Aug. 12, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
10, '64.
Cutler, Dorr, 25; Aug. 14, '62; Moravia; Sept. 8, Corp.; dis. Jan.
11, '63.
Defendorf, Edwin, 21; Aug. 17, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp., Oct.
18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dennis, Daniel D., 34; Sept. 14, '64, Victor; Sept. 15, 1 year;
M. 0., July 6, '65.
Dickenson, Christopher, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Galen; Dec. 21; dis.
July 15, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Dodd, Elias, 30; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Artificer, March
15, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dolson, Cornelius, 21; Dec. 29, '63, Genoa; Jan. 9; dis. May 25,
'65, hospital.
Donohue, Daniel, 33; July 22, '63, Scipio; Sept. 3; wd. Cold
Harbor; dis. March 11, '65, hospital, Albany.
Dorsey, Michael, 44; Aug. 25, '62, Aurelius; Sept. 8; wd. July
9, '64, Monocacy; trans. Feb. 2, '65, V. R. C.
Douglass, David, 29; Jan. 17, '64, Harford; Jan. 28; d. July 31,
'64, of wounds received at Cold Harbor.
Doyle, James, 35; Sept. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 10, '64,
Fort Foote.
Doyle, Michael, 40; Dec. 31, '63, Scipio; Dec. 31; dis. Nov. 25, '64.
Doyle, Terrance, 26; Aug. 27, '61, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Jan. 14,
'63.
Dunham, George, 34; Dec. 21, '63, Caneadea; Dec. 30; d. June
29, '64, of wounds received at Cold Harbor.
Dunn, John, 30; Sept. 10, '64, Albany; Sept. 19, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Eaton, Augustus, 22; Aug. 15, '62, Summer Hill; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Emerson, Lewis, 28; Dec. 30, '63, Scipio; Dec. 30; trans. May 7,
'64, to U. S. Navy.
Evans, William J., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; dis. Mar.
27, '63.
Everett, James, 18; Dec 23, '63, Neversink; Dec. 23; no M. O.
Fales, Anthony, 23; Dec. 23, '63, Sodus; Dec. 29; d. Aug. 13, '64,
from wounds received July 9, '64, Monocacy.
Falvey, Patrick, 32; Aug. 31, '64, Niles; 1 year; k. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek.

508 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Finney, Frederick H., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Groton; Jan. 8; trana
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Flynn, Francis, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; Corp., April 6,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Fobes, Sylvester, 36; Sept. 3, '64, Macedon; Sept. 12, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Fordyce, John H, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; d. Nov. 14,
'62, Georgetown.
Foreman, Amos, 26; Aug. 13, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; wd. Cold
Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Foster, John, 20; Aug. 25, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Foster, Sylvester, 20; Feb. 10, '64, Harford; Feb. 11; dis. June
27, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Fox, Lloyd, 23; Jan. 21, '64, Venice; Jan. 21; d. Nov. 15, '64,
Venice.
Frair, Austin, 21; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year; k.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Frank, Roland C, 16; Dec. 22, '63, Virgil; Dec. 22; d. Aug. 7,
'64, hospital, New York.
Freeborn, Milford D., 25; Dec. 21, '63, Caneadea; Dec. 21; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fritts, George, 45; Aug. 27, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Fry, Hiram, 21; Aug. 13, '64, Ledyard; 1 year; dis. June 8, '65,
hospital.
Furguson, Thomas, 35; Aug. 11, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; dis. June 23,
'65, hospital, Washington.
Gale, Edwin, 20; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Gannon, Michael, 27; Dec. 27, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; d. June 26,
'65, hospital.
Gleason, James, 19; Jan. 6, '64, Auburn; Jan. 15; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Goodrich, Addison, 33; Dec. 30, '63, Sempronius; Jan. 4, '64;
k. Sept. 19, '64, Winchester.
Goodridge, Heman W., 27; Nov. 19, '63, Syracuse; Dec; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Green, Andrew M., 30; enlisted in Co. L Dec. 14, '63, Onondaga;
Dec. 15; trans, to Co. E, date not given; dis. June 23, '65,
Washington.
Green, Edward, 28; Dec 28, '63, Venice; Jan. 4, '64; Corp.,
June 10, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hardv, George, 25: Sept. 14, '64, Victor; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Hardy, Simeon, 18; Feb. 12, '64, Jasper; Feb. 14; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hardy, William, 23; Sept. 3, '64, Jasper; Sept. 12, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; dis. Aug. 19, '65, hospital, Washington.

COMPANY E. 509
Hartigan, Daniel, 24; Nov. 7, '63, Oswego, in Co. L; trans, to E
Feb. 3, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hartnett, James, 45; Jan. 1, '64, Scipio; Jan. 1; prisoner; July
9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 6, '65, hospital, Washington.
Haskell, Josephus, 19; Dec. 30, '63, Harford; Dec. 30; d. April
20, '65, Harford.
Hayden, Lawrence. 37; Sept 1, '64, Niles; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Heath, Jerome, 21; Nov. 28, '63, Skaneateles; Dec. 9 in Co. L;
trans, to E, no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Henry, William, 16; Jan. 11, '64, Fort Foote; Jan. 11, Musician;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hitchcock, Daniel, 41 ; Aug. 30, '62, Fleming ; Sept. 8, Musician ;
deserted Nov. 11, '62.
Hogan, Michael, 20; came to company Aug. 19, '64, as a sub
stitute ; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hough, Charles W., 26; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Sept. 22, '62; Sergt., Jan. 14, '63; trans. March 30, '63, field
and staff.
Howell, John, 32; Sept. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Sept. 14, '63,
Fort Foote.
Huff, Edgar R., 18; Jan. 9, '64 Caneadea; Jan. 9; Corp., Oct. 18,
'64; Sergt, Feb. 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hutchinson, Aipheus, 18; July 3, '63, Venice; Aug. 4; wd. June
6, '64, Cold Harbor; Corp., March 4, '65; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hutchinson, John, 21; Aug. 21, '62, Venice; Sept 8; Corp., Sept.
25, '63; Sergt., Dec. 17, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Jaquett, Benjamin, 42; Dec. 21, '63, Fleming; Jan. 4; dis. June
5, '65.
Jaquett, William L., 28; Aug. 21, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp..
Jan. 14, '63; Sergt., Nov. 26, '63; trans. Feb. 1, '65, field and
staff.
Jones, Amos S., 27; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Corp., April
23, '63; Sergt., May 16, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Jones, Gilbert, 20; Aug. 11, '64, Auburn; Aug. 11, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Jones, Jacob, 20; Aug. 20, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; d. Dec. 5, '64,
Kelloggsville.
Jonesbury, William, 19; Sept. 7, '63, Elbridge; Nov. 5, '63; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Keech, Isaac E., 21; Jan. 4, '64, Harford; Jan. 4; dis. July 8, '65,
Washington.
Keeslar, Daniel, 30; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; 1 year; d. April 4,
'65, of wounds received April 2 at Petersburg. (See also
Co. A.)
Keeslar, Simeon, 21; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year; d.
April 18, '65, from wounds received April 2 at Petersburg.
Kenyon, Vincent A., 20; Aug. 21, '62, Sempronius; Sept. 8;

510 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Corp., April 7, '63; Q. M. Sergt., April 6, '64; 1st Sergt,
July 30, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Kilbourn, George A., 39; Dec 21, '63, Caneadea; Corp., July 20,
'64; d. Feb. 2, '65, Caneadea.
Kimball, Robert, 28; Aug. 22, '62, Venice; Sept 8; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 24, '64, Danville, Va.
King, William E., 18; Aug. 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Kingsley, John L., 32; Feb. 20, '64, Throop; Feb. 20; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kirby, Patrick E., 22; Sept. 5, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. July 21,
'64, from wounds received July 9 at Monocacy.
Ladue, Ambrose, 20; Dec. 18, '63, Montezuma; Dec. 31; d. pris
oner of war in Andersonville Oct., '64.
Lamb, Reuben P., 22; Aug. 31, '64, Macedon; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Landin, Henry, 25; Dec. 26, '63, Venice; Jan. 4; wd. July 9, '64,
Monocacy; dis. June 19, '65, hospital, Annapolis.
Lansdown, John, 18; Oct. 30, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lavens, Louis, 35; Nov. 18, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; wd. Cold Har
bor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lavin, John, 18; Jan. 5, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5; no M. O.
Lavin, Patrick, 43; Aug. 15, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Lawrence, Norman, 29; Aug. 13, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy, while helping Col. Seward from the field.
Leavenworth, Henry, vide Maygold.
Lee, Charles H, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp., May 16,
'63; Sergt., April 6, '64; 1st Sergt., March 4„ '65; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Lee, John E., 18; Aug. 18, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Leonard, Elijah T., 19; Aug. 14, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp..
Oct. 3, '63; Sergt., July 30, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Leonard, Isaac, 20; Aug. 5, '64, Groton; Aug. 5, 1 year; d. Oct.
28, '64, from wounds received Oct. 19 at Cedar Creek.
Lewis, Stephen, 44; Jan. 15, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 15; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Litchard, Almanzo, 23; Sept. 6, '64, Conesus; Sept. 7, 1 year;
dis. June 16, '65, hospital; Vet. Co. D, 86th N. Y. Vols.
Loveland, George, 18; Sept. 2, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 2, 1 vear;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Lyons, John, 31; Sept. 1, '62, Aurelius; Sept. 8; trans. April 18,
'64, V. R. C.
McCabe, Dennis, 28; Dec. 21, '63, Oswego; Dec. 21, in Co. L;
trans, to E, no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McConnell, Levi, 20; Dec. 22, '63, Montezuma; Jan. 4, '64; pris
oner June, '64, Cold Harbor; d. Dec. 1, '64, Andersonville.

COMPANY E.
Lieut. V. A. Kenyon. Lieut. H. H. Wheeler, Jr.
Capt. Orson Howard.
H. K. Austin. F. L. Royce. Frank Tallman.

COMPANY E. 511
McGee, David, 18; Jan. 11, '64, Caneadea; Jan. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McMicken, Wirtz, 21; Oct. 22, '63, Auburn; Nov. 5, '63; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mahoney, Timothy, 37; Aug. 30, '64, Niles; Sept. 1, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; dis. Sept. 4, '65, Elmira.
Maine, William F., 21; Dec. 22, '63, Genoa; Jan. 5; said to have
deserted to the enemy July 9, '64, at Monocacy.
Manchester, Daniel H, 31; Aug. 9, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
dis. Feb. 14, '63.
Marshall, Arthur W., 40; Aug. 29, '64, Venice; Sept. 1, 1 year;
promoted 2d Lieut., Co. G, Nov. 14, '64; had been 2d Lieut.,
Co. I, 111th N. Y.
Marshall, William, 23 ; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles ; Sept. 1, 1 year ;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Martin, Jefferson L., 20; Aug. 14, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt, July 21, '63; k. June 3, '64, Cold Harbor.
Maur, John, 27; Aug. 27, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov. 26,
'63; dis. March 21, '65.
Maygold (Leavenworth), Henry, 18; Dec. 9, '63, Seneca Falls;
Dec. 2; wd. Cold Harbor; Corp., May 24, '65; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mehan, Edward, 25; March 31, '64, New York; March 31; no
M. O.
Merical, Taylor, 17; Feb. 8, '64, Harford; Feb. 8; d. July 27, '64,
Washington.
Merrett, John E., 18; Dec. 28, '63, Genoa; Jan. 4, '64; wd. Cedar
Creek; dis. May 26, '65, hospital.
Meyers, John, 30; Sept. 30, '64, Bennington; Sept. 30, 1 year;
dis. May 18, '65. :
Moore, James, 26; Dec. 2, '63, Auburn; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Moore, William F., 21; Dec. 11, '63, Virgil; Dec. 22; Corp., Oct.
18, '64; Sergt, March 3, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.; Vet.
Morehouse, Anson, 19; Dec. 30, '63, Covert; Dec. 30; M. O.,
May 3, '65.
Mosier, Edward, 23; Dec. 18, '63, Montezuma; Dec. 31; d. Nov.
— , '64, a prisoner in Andersonville.
Muldoon, John, 31; Dec. 31, '63, Venice; Dec. 31; dis. Mar. 1, '65.
Murnev, Cornelius, 28; Dec. 16, '63, New Haven; Dec. 16; dis.
Jan. 16, '65.
Musselman, George F., 40; Dec 16, '63, Marion; Dec. 26; dis.
June 16, '65 ; Vet. of Mexican War.
Myers, Horace, 28; Sept. 2, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65,
Neff, Alexander, 19; Jan. 4, '64, Cortland; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Neff, Joseph, 28; Feb. 6, '64, Harford; Feb. 20; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

512 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Niles, Delos, 20; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Corp., April 6,
'64; Sergt, Sept. 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Norris, Charles, 18; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year; k.
Oct. 19 '64 Cedar Creek.
Norris, Silas, 20; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Olin, Jonathan, 44; Aug. 16, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans. June
6, '63, V. R. C.
Olin, Russell, 18; Aug. 16, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Sept. 11, '63,
Fort Foote.
O'Neal, John, 36; Aug. 31, '64, Niles; Sept. 1, 1 year; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Osier, Charles, 25; Nov. 11, '64, New York; Nov. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Osier, David, 26; Aug. 13, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; wd. Cold Har
bor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Parker, Hiram H, 29; Dec. 30, '63, Caneadea; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Parker, Joseph C., 42; Sept. 3, '64, Cato; Sept. 12, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek ; dis. March 3, '65.
Perkins, James M., 38; Aug. 23, '64, Macedon; Aug. 29, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Perry, Dixon, 44; Jan. 4, '64, Scipio; Jan. 4; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Perry, Myron H., 18; Aug. 15, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; M. O. as
Musician July 6, '65.
Pickens, Warren R., 19; Aug. 14, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec.
16, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Powell, William, 18; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; d. Dec. 10, '64,
Winchester, Va.
Richardson, Henry H, 23; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 6, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Rigby, John, 22; Aug. 26, '64, Lockport; Sept. 1; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Riggs, Burritt, 32; Dec. 21, '63, Venice; Jan. 8, '64; d. Aug. 4,
'64, Baltimore, of wounds received July 9 at Monocacy.
Robinson, John, 44; Dec. 30, '63, Caneadea; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H A.; Vet. Co. I, 27th N. Y. Vols.
Rogers, Adelbert, 22; Aug. 14, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
23, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Ross, James, 38; Jan. 4, '64, Scipio; Jan. 4; wd. Cold Harbor;
trans, as Corp. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Royce, Frank L., 19; Aug. 11, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; Corp., May
16, '64; Sergt., Sept. 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Ryckman, David, 40; Sept. 5, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year; dis.
June 12, '65, hospital.
Scott, Wesley, 35; Aug. 28, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; dis. June 19, '65,
hospital.
Seeley, Seth M., 33; Sept. 8, '64, Geddes; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.

COMPANY E. 513
Shaw, John H., 17; Dec. 3, '63, Moravia; Dec. 3, in Co. L; trans.
to E, Feb. 26, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shaw, Stephen, 21; Sept. 21, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Sherman, Alexander, 40; Aug. 5, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis.
June 15, '65.
Sherman, James, 21; Dec. 1, '63, Auburn; Dec. 9, in Co. L; trans.
to E, Feb. 26, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sherman, Joseph, 18; Dec. 28, '63, Groton; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sherman, Rufus, 18; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Jan. 4, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shevalier, John, 21; Aug. 25, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8; Corp., Deo.
13, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Shorey, John, 28; Dec. 12, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 15, in Co. L; trans.
to Co. E, no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shorkley, Pardon T., 28; Aug. 11, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8, Corp.;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Slade, Reuben, 18; Aug. 12, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; dis. Sept. 13,
'64. (This on Albany records; good authority says he de
serted in Sept., '62.)
Smith, Emory, 45; Feb. 10, '64, Geddes; Feb. 10; d. July 23, '64,
from wounds, hospital, New York harbor.
Smith, Francis, 19; Aug. 25, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Smith, James, 26; Aug. 21, '62, Aurelius; Sept. 8; deserted Sept.
14, '62.
Smith, John F., 22; Sept. 11, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Smith, Ralph, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; deserted Oct.
27, '62.
Snow, Henry, 38; Aug. 26, '64, Sennett; Aug. 26, 1 year; dis.
July 19, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Snow, William, 44; Aug. 17, '64, Skaneateles; Aug. 24, 1 year;
d. Oct. 20, '64, Martinsburg, from wounds received Oct. 19
at Cedar Creek.
Stephens, Isaac, 37; Sept. 3, '64, Ovid; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Stoddard, Simeon, 27; Aug. 14, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; d. July 3, '64, City Point.
Strong, Philip, 33; Aug. 15, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8, Sergt; dis.
May 16, '64.
Suddick, Richard, 33; Dec. 30, '63, Caneadea; Dec. 30; wd. April
2, '65, Petersburg; dis. July 22, '65.
Swift, Edward B., 21; Jan. 14, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 19; d. Aug.
18, '64, Frederick, Md.
Tallman, Frank, 18; Jan. 2, '64, Scipio; Jan. 2; prisoner July 9,
'64., Monocacy; dis. June 26, '64, hospital, Annapolis.
Tallman, Frederick A., 18; Sept. 3, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8, Musi
cian; M. O., July 6, '65.
33

514 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Tallman, Thomas C, 20; Aug. 13, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; Bugler,
Feb. 14, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Tanner, George L., 28; Jan. 4, '64, Niles; Jan. 4; dis. May 18,
'65, hospital.
Terwilliger, Ira, 22; Aug. 25, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; deserted
April 25, '65; Vet. Co. E, 3d N. Y. A.
Thoma, Fredolin, 39; Jan. 14, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 15; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Aug. 28, '65, hospital, Baltimore.
Thompson, George, 18; Dec. 22, '63, Montezuma; Dec. 30; dis,
July 19, '65.
Thompson, Orson, 21; Dec. 28, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; wd.
Cold Harbor; dis. May 6, '65, hospital.
Thorn, Joseph, 21; Aug. 15, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; Corp., April 7,
'63; dis. Aug. 11, '63.
Tibbetts, George W., 22; Aug. 13, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; Sergt., Jan. 17, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Tibbetts, Lansing, 18; Aug. 21, '62, Venice; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Tidd, John M., 26; Aug. 16, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; Artificer, March
15, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Tidd, Milton, 24; Dec. 23, '63, Tyre; Dec. 24; dis. May 26, '65,
hospital.
Tifft, John, 24; Aug. 18, '62, Venice; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.; pro
moted 2d Lieut.
Turner, John M., 38; Aug. 23, '64, Macedon; Aug. 29, 1 year;
dis. May 31, '65, hospital.
Valentine, Nelson, 18; Aug. 17, '64, no place given, joined as
substitute; d. Jan. 12, '65, in the field.
Van Camp, Ransom, 18; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1
year; dis. May 15, '65.
Vandergrief, George, 33; Dec. 30, '63, Caneadea; Dec. 30; dis.
May 13, '65, hospital, Philadelphia; Vet. Co. F, 6th Ohio
Vols.
Van Liew, John, 31; Aug. 11, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8, Corp.; Musi
cian in Regimental Band, April 4, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Van Marter, Abram, 22; Dec. 29, '63, Ledyard; Jan. 4, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Veeder, Peter, 25; Dec. 21, '63, Fleming; Jan. 4, '64; k.. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Vincent, John B., 29; Sept. 6, '64, Conesus; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Waldron, David, 35; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Walker, John H., 39; Aug. 13, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; dis. Dec. 10,
'63.
Warwick, Robert, 34; Aug. 17, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
dis. Jan. 3, '64.
Waters, James, 21; Aug. 14, '62, Montezuma; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.

COMPANY F. 515
Westfall, Christopher, 21; Sept. 5, 64, Lyons; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
White, George A., 18; Feb. 16, '64, Montezuma; Feb. 16; dis.
June 19, '65, hospital.
Whitfield, Eben, 27; Aug. 12, '62, Scipio; Sept. 8; dis. April
3, '63.
Wilkinson, Charles, 31; Aug. 21, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8,Wagoner;
d. Oct. 3, '63, Fort Mansfield.
Williams, George, 28; Aug. 14, '62, Montezuma; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 6, '64; d. Aug. 4, '64, Frederick, Md., from wounds
received July 9 at Monocacy.
Wilson, Oliver A., 18; Dec. 28, '63, Caneadea; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wright, Darwin F., 25; Aug. 12, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; d. Jan.
11, '63, Camp Morris.
Wright, John P., 32; Nov. 6, '63, Hastings; Nov. 12; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. Oct. 25, '64, V. R. C.
Wright, Richard D., 27; Aug. 13, '62, Moravia; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Wyckoff, Henry G., 23; Aug. 22, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8; trans.
April 18, '64, V. R. C.
Woodmansee, Nathan, 20; Jan. 4, '64, Groton; Jan. 4; wd. Mo
nocacy; dis. April 27, '65; Vet. 76th N. Y. Vols.
Woodward, Alonzo, 42; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Dec. 18; no M. O.
York, Edward M., 30; Dec 30, '63, Niles; Jan. 4, '64; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
COMPANY F.
Auburn and the near-by towns contributed the majority of
the men for Company F. Captain Burgess was the first moving
spirit, and a large part of the enlistments were in the city ; but
Lieutenants Bacon and Lamoreaux did their part also, and the
company grew between July 30th and September 2d, though the
one man who enlisted on the latter day did not pass, and the
July enrollments were George W. Swift of Auburn and Emmet
Stafford of Port Byron, both of whom subsequently became
lieutenants. In F, there was a small contingent, eight or nine men, who
came up from Lansing in Tompkins county, thus breaking the
Cayuga monotony. Among these recruits were some of the best
men in the company, and all gave good accounts of themselves.
CAPTAINS.
Charles Burgess, 43; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Captain;
rank from Aug. 24; promoted Major.
Sullivan B. Lamoreaux, from 1st Lieut, May 21, '64 ; promoted
Major.

516 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
George W. Bacon, 30; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, 1st Lieut;
rank from Aug. 24; promoted Captain Co. D.
Sullivan B. Lamoreaux, from 2d Lieut, July 31, '63; promoted
Captain.
Weston E. Allen, from 2d Lieut., Feb. 24, '64; rank from Jan.
8; dismissed Dec. 17, '64.
Charles W. Hough, from 2d Lieut. Co. B; rank from April 4, '64;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. finally as Captain
Co. L.
Emmett Stafford, from 2d Lieut., Dec. 15, '64; rank from Oct. 3;
dismissed March 27, '65.
Benjamin Yard, from 2d Lieut. Co. I, Nov. 29, '64; trans, back
to Co. I June 26, '65.
William H. Firth, from 2d Lieut., Dec. 18, '64; rank from Nov.
28; dis. Feb. 19, '65.
George W. Swift, from Co. K, May 4, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Sullivan B. Lamoreaux, 21; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, 2d
Lieut.; rank from Aug. 24; promoted 1st Lieut.
Weston E. Allen, from 1st Sergt., Aug. 22, '63 ; rank from July
31 ; promoted 1st Lieut.
Emmett Stafford, from Corp., Aug. 22, '63; rank from Aug. 1;
promoted 1st Lieut.
Albert B. Norton, from Sergt., Feb. 12, '64; rank from Jan. 8;
resigned March 12, '64.
Charles P. Patterson, from Co. B, Feb. 23, '64; rank from Feb.
3; wd. Cold Harbor; resigned Sept. 15, '64.
William H. Firth, from Sergt., July 10, '64; promoted 1st Lieut.
David H. Stone, from 1st Sergt., Dec. 15, '64; rank from Sept.
15; k. Jan. 14, '65, Petersburg.
Henry Rowland, from 11th N. Y. Battery, Jan. 4, '65; M. O.,
July 6, '65. He enlisted, age 30, Aug. 7, '62, Albany; Corp.,
Oct. 19, '64; promoted as above.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Alexander, Rice, 38; Jan. 5, '64, Pompey; Jan. 5; dis. June 29,
'65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Alfreds, Henry, 21; March 4, '63, Auburn; March 8; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Allen, .Dwight, 19; Dec 25, '63, Groton; Dec. 25; k. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Allen, Henry, 21 ; June 2, '63, Galen ; June 3 ; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Allen, Titus, 20; June 16, '63, Auburn; Aug. 5; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. C, 3d N. Y. A.

Capt. S. B. Lamoreaux,
later Major and Brev't Lt. Colonel

COMPANY F.
Capt. Chas. Burgess,

1st Lieut. Wm. H. Firth.

later Major.
George Swart, Drum Major. 1st Lieut. L. H. Bigelow (K). 2nd Lieut. D. H. Stone.
Wilmer Stout. Alpheus K. Long. Wesley Niblock.

COMPANY F. 517
Allen, Weston E., 23; Aug. 14, '62, Genoa; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Allen, William, 44; Aug. 19, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans. Feb.
19, '64, V. R. C.
Armstrong, Alexander, 22; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Dec 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Armstrong, William, 18; Sept. 3, '64, Auburn; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Ashmore, Samuel, 18; Aug. 8, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Ashton, John R., 22; July 6, '63, Fort Bayard; July 7; dis. Jan.
25, '64.
Austen, John, 33; Sept. 10, '63, Fort Bayard; Sept. 12; deserted
Sept. 20, '63.
Barnard, Franklin D., 21; Aug. 11, '62, Sennett; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Bateman, Charles E., 21; Aug. 29, '64, Albany; Sept. 5; no M. O.
Bayes, James, 22; Aug. 15, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; k. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek.
Bennett, George W., 24; Dec. 21, '63, Lyons; Dec. 21; dis. May
26, '65, hospital, Philadelphia.
Bennett, James H, 27; Dec. 30, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; wd.
June, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. June 8, '65, hospital, York, Pa.
Bennett, William, 22; Aug. 8, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. June 7,
'65, Baltimore.
Bergin, Theodore, 22; Jan. 4, '64, 3d Dist. N. Y.; deserted Feb.
5, '64.
Bigelow, Lendell H, 24; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; 1st
Sergt., date not given ; promoted 1st Lieut. Co. K.
Blake, Jacob, 33; Aug. 30, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Boardman, Charles, 18; July 29, '63, Fort Bayard; July 29; de
serted Aug. 20, '63.
Bolden, Henry, 29; July 22, '63, Fort Bayard; July 23; deserted
as Corporal June 6, '64.
Boscoe, William, 29; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Bostler, Conrad, 22; Aug. 12, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Boyd, Patrick, 32; July 18, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18; deserted
* July 20, '64.
Boyd, Thomas, 21; July 10, '63, Auburn; Aug. 5; deserted May
8, '64.
Bradley, Josiah, vide Joseph Frayer.
Branch, Caleb A., 30; Aug. 14, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
17, '63, hospital, Philadelphia.
Brian, John, 31; July 5, '63, Fort Bayard; July 6; deserted Aug.
23, '63.
Britton, George, 22; Feb. 8, '64, Portage; Feb. 12; d. March 1,
'65, Washington.

518 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Britton, Gordon, 21; Aug. 21, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec
6, '64; d. Jan. 19, '65, in the field.
Brown, Daniel E., 18; Jan. 27, '64, Hamilton; Jan. 27; dis. June
16, '65. Washington.
Brown, John, 42; July 14, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18; deserted
March 29, '64.
Buff, Edwin, 22; Jan. 11, '64, Smyrna; Jan. 11; dis. May 18, '65,
Baltimore.
Burt, John, 25; July 24, '63, Fort Bayard; July 25; deserted
Aug. 22, '64.
Carolin, Patrick, 30; Oct. 1, '63, Fort Bayard; trans, as Bugler
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; borne also as Carren; Vet.
Catlin, Cecil, 18; Aug. 10, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. April 19, '65,
Washington.
Catlin, Michael, 28; July 13, '63, Fort Bayard; July 24; dis. July
14, '65, Syracuse.
Catlin, Squire B., 44; Aug. 23, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Wagoner;
trans. Jan. 10, '65, V. R. C.
Chase, Horace W., 27; Aug. 8, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Julv 1, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Close, Charles, 21; Feb. 16, '64, Groton; Feb. 16; Corp., Jan. 24,
'65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; later M. O. as Sergt.
Clow, George E., 33; Aug. 28, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; Sergt., April
7, '63; promoted 2d Lieut. Co. K.
Coleman, Lyman, 30; Aug. 25, '63, Auburn; Sept. 10; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Collin, Michael, 28; July 13, '63, Fort Bayard; dis. July 14, '65.
Cooper, Stephen H, 32; Dec. 14, '63, Georgetown; dis. April 10,
'65, Washington.
Cowan, Henry W., 18; Aug. 5, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis Nov.
25, '62.
Cowden, Charles, 18; July 20, '63, Fort Bayard; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cronk, James A., 34; Aug. 23, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Crumb, Arthur S., 18; April 14, '64, Afton; April 15; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cur ley, John, 35; July 23, '63, Fort Bayard; July 25; deserted
July 21, '64.
Curtis, William, 27; Aug. 11, '62, Sennett; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
3, '64;. Sergt, June 21, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Darrow, Peter, 19; Aug. 13, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp., March 6,
'65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Davis, William L., 27; Aug. 9, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb.
22, '65; dis. May 31, '65, Washington.
Deering, Henry, 43; July 31, '63, Fort Bayard; July 31; dis.
May 11, '64.
Dempsey, David, 30; Aug. 9, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; dis. June 28,
'65, hospital, Portsmouth Grove, R. I.

COMPANY F. 519
Dent, Thomas, 40; Jan. 7, '64, Phelps; Feb. 2; deserted March
19, '65.
Devoe, George, 18; Dec. 30, '63, Owasco; Jan. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dewitt, Henry, 19; Aug. 15, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dibble, Thomas, 22; July 14, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dinsman, Samuel, 44; July 25, '63, Fort Bayard; July 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Donegan, James O., 19; July 21, '63, Fort Bayard; July 24; de
serted July 19, '64.
Donnelly, Francis, 44; July 8, '63, Fort Bayard; July 9; deserted
April 2, '64.
Doyle, James, 18; Aug. 16, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Duval, Albert J., 21; Jan. 1, '64, Hornby; Jan. 1; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Easton, Aaron M., 35 ; Dec. 22, '63, Junius ; Dec. 23 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Edgecome, Albert J., 20; Dec. 25, '63, Groton; Dec. 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Eggleston, John, 22; Aug. 16, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; no record
after June 17, '65, when he was reported sick.
Elliott, Nathan, 43; Dec. 21, '63, Mentz; Dec. 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Elliott, Nathan, Jr., 18; Dec. 20, '63, Mentz; Dec 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Emerick, Peter W., 27; Aug. 20, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec.
17, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Feek, Howard, 21; Aug. 13, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; deserted Oct.
2, '62.
Firth, William H, 26; Aug. 14, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Fowler, Henry, 25; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Francisco, Charles, 23; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Frayer, Jay E., 18; Aug. 6, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; dis. May 31, '65,
hospital, Rochester.
Frayer, Joseph (Josiah Bradley), 31; Dec. 23, '63, Auburn; Jan.
4, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
French, Barnard, 29; March 13, '63, Auburn; March 18; dis.
June 16, '65, hospital. i
Gifford, Harrison, 22; Jan. 29, '63, Auburn; Corp., Jan. 21, '65;
dis. June 27, '65.
Gillett, Edson, 22; Aug. 26, '64, Owasco; Aug. 26, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Gillson, Amos E., 44; Aug. 3, '64, Auburn; Sept. 8; no M. O.
Doubtless same as Jillson, Amos E., which see.

520 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Gould, Charles H, 18; Aug. 8, '62; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Gowers, William, 21; Jan. 26, '63, Auburn; March 8; deserted
Oct. 31, '63.
Greenfield, Charles H., 19; Aug. 15, '62, Niles; Sept 8, Corp.;
wd. April 2, '65, Petersburg; dis. July 7, '65.
Grey, James, 33; July 16, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18; deserted
Aug. 12, '63.
Guthrie, William, 18; Feb. 8, '64, Groton; Corp., Jan. 24, '65
Sergt, March 20, '65; d. April 16, '65, Washington, from
wounds received April 2 at Petersburg.
Hacker, George H, 27; Aug. 14, '62, Sennett; Sept. 8, Sergt
M. O., July 6, '65.
Hagan, Patrick, 25; July 9, '63, Fort Bayard; July 10; trans,
Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Hale, Chauncey D., 27; Aug. 12, '62, Genoa; Sept. 8; M. O
July 6, '65.
Hargan, Charles, 20; Aug. 30, '62, Lansing; Sept. 8; wd. Oct
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 14, '65, Baltimore.
Hargan, Mark, 24; Aug. 14, '62, Lansing; Sept. 8, Corp.; d. Mar,
3, '63, Fort Mansfield.
Harper, William A., 35; July 13, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18
Corp., June 18, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hawkins, John, 25; Sept. 5, '64, Albany; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hills, Norman H, 21; Jan. 6, '64, Norwich; Jan. 6; deserted
June 4, '64.
Hilts, Charles E., 18; Aug. 22, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; dis. April 15,
'64, Fort Bayard.
Hodges, Henry, 25; July 14, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18; trans.
Aug. 25; '63, to 16th N. Y. Cavalry.
Hoff, James, 22; Dec. 29, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; dis. May 18,
'65, Washington.
Holden, Smith, 19; Aug. 30, '62, Lansing; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Horton, Francis M., 18; Aug. 29, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Nov. 3, '64 ; M. O., July 6, '65.
Howard, Charles, 21; Jan. 6, '64, Norwich; Jan. 6; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Howard, William, 18; Jan. 9, '64, Norwich; Jan. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hoy, James W., 30; July 24, '63, Fort Bayard; July 25; dis. May
31, '65, Washington.
Hudson, Pitts O., 18; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Hunt, Frederick E., 18; Aug. 5, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hyat, John, 18; July 24, '63, Fort Bayard; July 24; deserted
Nov. 4, '64.
Hyde, Norman B., 20; Feb. 16, '64, Groton; Feb. 16; dis. May
6, '65, hospital, Philadelphia; Veteran.

COMPANY F. 521
Ingram, Jonathan, 44; July 6, '63, Fort Bayard; July 6; trans.
Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Jackson, Edward, 35; July 22, '63, Fort Bayard; July 23; trans.
Aug. 23, '64, U. S. Navy.
Jenkins, Jedediah, 21; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; deserted
May 10, '65.
Jillson, Amos E., 44; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Dec.
7, '63, Fort Simmons.
Johnson, Hiram M., 44; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans. Feb.
19, '64, V. R. C.
Johnson, Nelson R., 23 ; Aug. 28, '62, Auburn ; Sept. 8 ; dis. May
12, '64, Fort Richardson.
Jones, Byron M., 30; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 23, '64; Sergt, May 16, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Jones, Charles E., 24; Aug. 14, '63, Mentz; Aug. 25; dis. May
31, '65, Washington.
Jones, H. Mason, 21; Aug. 23, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; trans. Feb.
19, '64, V. R. C.
Jones, Thomas, 26; March 27, '63, Auburn; March 27; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Keen, Charles, 38; Aug. 7, '63, Fort Bayard; Aug. 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kellogg, Martin V. B., 25; Aug. 18, '62, Lansing; Sept. S; de
serted Oct. 12, '62.
Kibby, Frederick, 29; March 5, '63, Mentz; dis. May 18, '63.
Knapp, Andrew J., 44 ; July 13, '63, Fort Bayard ; deserted July
23, '63.
Kniffen, A. Edward, 21; March 26, '63, Auburn; April 1; de
serted March 4, '64.
Lampheer, Moses B., 19; Feb. 16, '64, Lansing; Feb. 16; trans.
May 28, '64, to 1st N. Y. Ind. Battery.
Lander, John C, 22; July 21, '63, Fort Bayard; July 23; de
serted March 4, '64.
Lane, John J., 28; Feb. 15, '64, Lansing; Feb. 15; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Larey, John, 23; July 20, '63, Fort Bayard; July 24; deserted
Aug. 12, '63.
Learn, Daniel, 28; Jan. 15, '64, Groton; Jan. 15; d. May 11, '64,
Washington.
Learn, Henry J., 19; Dec. 25, '63, Oswego; Dec. 29; dis. June
9, '65, Washington.
Leavenworth, Lyman B., 18; Dec. 25, '63, Hornby; Dec. 25; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 6, '65, Elmira.
Lewis, Elias H, 18; Feb. 5, '64, Groton; Feb. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Linehose, John E., 30; Aug. 14, '62, Lansing; Sept. 8; k. April
2, '65, Petersburg.
Lobdell, Jonathan, 22; Sept. 2, '64, Genoa; Sept. 9, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.

522 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Londerman, Oliver, 18; June 3, '63, Palmyra; June 3; k. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor.
Long, Alpheus K, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Aurelius; Sept. 8; dis. as
Corp., Dec. 14, '63, for promotion in 7th U. S. Colored
Troops, whence he was dis. Brev. Capt. ; had been wounded
at Fort Bayard by explosion of shell.
Lowe, John F., 23; March 31, '63, Auburn; March 31; trans. Oct.
1, '63, to 3d N. Y. Battery.
McBride, Alexander, 44; July 10, '63, Washington; July 10;
deserted April 4, '64.
McCubbins, Joseph, 23; July 9, '63, Fort Bayard; July 9; d.
April 11, '65, City Point, of wounds received April 2 at
Petersburg.
McGuire, Owen, 43; July 20, '63, Fort Bayard; July 28; trans.
as Wagoner, June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McLaughlin, Owen, 42; July 23, '63, Fort Bayard; July 25; pris
oner July 24, '64; d. Libby prison, date unknown.
McNamara, John, 37; July 21, '63, Fort Bayard; July 28; de
serted Sept. 22, '63.
Marsh, Frederick, 35; Sept. 2, '62, Mentz; Sept 8; deserted July
18, '63.
Marsh, George W., 30; Aug. 18, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; Artificer,
July 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Martin, William, 40; July 7, '63, Fort Bayard; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mayhew, William C, 29; Feb. 15, '64, Granby; Feb. 16; trans.
Nov. 14, '64, V. R. C.
Merritt, Charles F., 21; Aug. 14, '62, Genoa; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Merritt, Nathaniel A., 25; Aug. 18, '62, Genoa; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Aug. 15, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Miller, Charles, 44; July 8, '63, Fort Bayard; July 9; trans. Feb.
19, '64, V. R. C.
Miller, Charles H, 21; Aug. 14, '62, Genoa; Sept. 8, Corp.;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Miller, John, 44; July 7, '63, Fort Bayard; July 9; deserted
May 20, '64.
Minogue, Peter, 33; March 9, '63, Auburn; March 9; dis. June
2, '65, Philadelphia.
Mix, Cranson, 20; Jan. 4, '64, Groton; Jan. 4; d. June 12, '64,
Alexandria.
Moody, William F., 32; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; deserted
May 15, '63.
Murphy, James, 21; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Murphy, Leary} 27; July 14, '63, Fort Bayard; July 18; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Murray, John, 27; Dec. 31, '63, Corning; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY F. 523
Myers, William H, 29; Dec. 24, '63, Lansing; Dec. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nash, Ephraim A., 32; Aug. 21, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Aug.
4, '63.
Newton, Albert D., 21; Jan. 6, '64, Norwich; Jan. 6; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Niblock, Wesley, 18; Aug. 11, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., July 1,
'64j M. O., July 6, '65.
Nicodemus, Andrew, 18; July 6, '63, Fort Bayard; July 7; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nobles, John, 30; Aug. 22, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; dis. May 16, '64.
North, Crandall J., 18; Aug. 1, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Mar.
21, '64; Sergt., March 7, '65; wd. April 2, '65, Petersburg;
dis. June 14, '65, Elmira.
Northrop, Martin V. B., 22; Jan. 20, '64, Norwich; Jan. 20, '64;
dis. May 17, '65, Washington.
Norton, Albert B., 25; July 30, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Nugent, Daniel, 21; March 18, '63, Auburn; March 18; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Brien, John, 30; March 18, '63, Auburn; dis. April 21, '63.
O'Connor, Martin, 24; July 25, '63, Fort Bayard; July 25; de-
serted Oct. 13, '63.
Ogden, Theodore, 18; Aug. 12, '64, Dryden; Aug. 12, 1 year;
d. Oct. 29, '64, of wounds received at Cedar Creek.
Osborn, Horace, 18; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Otis, James, 19; Jan. 5, '64, Scriba; Jan. 5; wd. April 2, '65,
Petersburg; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Otis, Michael, 20; Jan. 4, '64, Scriba; Jan. 4; wd. Cedar Creek;
Corp., March 20, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Palmer, Henry, 27; July 9, '63, Fort Bayard; July 10; dis. Jan.
22, '64, Fort Simmons.
Parks, John H, 20; Feb. 15, '64, Portage; Feb. 16; d. May 17,
'64, Washington.
Parr, Henry, 30; Dec. 29, '63, Auburn; Jan. 7, '64; dis. May 12,
'65, Philadelphia.
Peters, Matthias, 44; July 29, '63, Fort Bayard; dis. May 17, '65,
Washington.
Pitcher, David, 40; Aug. 27, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; Artificer, Aug.
23, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Pitcher, Lewis W., 18; March 28, '64, Washington; March 29;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Plattenburg, Jacob, 42; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; de
serted Sept. 11, '62.
Porter, James A., 40; Aug. 18, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; dis. June 16,
'65, Washington. ,
Powell, Lewis, 36; July 20, '63, Fort Bayard; July 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

524 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Pym, Joseph, 25; Aug. 9, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,
Aug. 24, '63; 1st Sergt., June 8, '65; wd. June — , '64, Cold
Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Quade, John, 33; July 20, '63, Fort Bayard; July 23; deserted
June 5, '64.
Rarden, James, 22; July 9, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Remington, Washington B., 21; Jan. 1, '64, Hornby; Jan. 7;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Reynolds, John W., 36; July 15, '63, Fort Bayard; July 15; trans.
April 21, '64, to U. S. Navy.
Rich, William B., 23; March 3, '63, Mentz; March 3; dis. June
15, '65, hospital, Washington.
Ridley, Thomas, 37; Jan. 29, '64, Canandaigua; Jan. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Riley, Anthony, 18; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Riley, Charles E., 44; Dec. 20, '63, Auburn; Dec. 31; d. March
20, '65, City Point, Va.
Roberts, David, 25; Sept. 5, '64, Albany; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Runyan, Chauncey A., 18; Aug. 12, '62, Aurelius; Sept. 8, Musi
cian; wd. May 5, '63, Fort Bayard; trans. Feb. 19, '64, V.
R. C.
Rush, John, 22; Aug. 8, '63, Fort Bayard; Aug. 8; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. B, 16th Va. Vols.
Rynders, Charles F., 25; Nov. 10, '63, Auburn; Dec. 6; Corp.,
March 7, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. E,
3d N. Y. A.
Schoemaker, Isaac, 23; Sept. 1, '63, Fort Bayard; Sept. 4; d.
April 4, '65, from wounds received April 2 at Petersburg.
Schoonmaker, Eli, 34; Aug. 29, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Seacor, William H, 44; Dec. 25, '63, Hornby; Dec. 25; d. July
8, '64, of wounds received June 1 at Cold Harbor.
Shergur, Charles L., 20; Aug. 14, '62, Lansing; Sept. 8; Corp.,
July 27, '63; Sergt., Dec. 16, '64; 1st Sergt., March 20, '65;
wd. April 6, '65, Sailor's Creek; dis. June 7, '65, hospital
Baltimore, Brevet 2d Lieut.
Sincerbeaux, Charles, 18 ; Jan. 1, '64, Scipio ; Jan. 4 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sincerbeaux, Edward M., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp.,
July 27, '63; regimental Q. M. Sergt, April 20, '64; M. O..
July 6, '65.
Sincerbeaux, Ira, 18; July 30, '63, Scipio; Aug. 25; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sincerbeaux, Leonard, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Oct. 16, '64; Sergt., Feb. 23, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Smith, Edward, 18; Aug. 2, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. March 11,
'64, Fort Mansfield.

COMPANY F. 525
Smith, Joseph, 22; July 3, '63, Fort Bayard; July 6; prisoner,
no data; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Randall A., 18; Dec. 10, '63, Groton; Dec. 14; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Snyder, John Gv 36; March 19, '63, Auburn; dis. April 21, '63.
Stafford, Emmett, 34; Aug. 15, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8, Corp.; pro
moted 2d Lieut.
Starkey, Lewis, 22; Aug. 15, '64, Groton; Aug. 15, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Stearns, George H., 23; Aug. 12, '62, Sennett; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Steih, Daniel, 20; Feb. 22, '64, Groveland; Feb. 25; dis. June 20,
'65, Philadelphia.
Stevens, Moses B., 45 ; June 12, '63, Galen ; June 23 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. K, 3d N. Y. A.
Steward, John, 41; Aug. 13, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Dec. 6,
'63, Fort Simmons.
Stone, David H, 26; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.; 1st
Sergt., no date; promoted 2d Lieut
Stout, George H, 23; Aug. 31, '64, Genoa; Sept. 1, 1 year; dis.
June 9, '65, Baltimore.
Stout, Wilmer, 21; Aug. 14, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec. 17,
'63 j Sergt, March 6, '65; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis.
May 31, '65, Philadelphia.
Strang, George F., 21 ; Aug. 6, '62, Auburn ; Sept. 8 ; Corp., June
8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Swart, Aaron V., 21; Aug. 27, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Swart, Alexander, 29; Aug. 27, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Swart, George, 18; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Musician; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Swartout, Clayton, 19; Dec. 25, '63, Hornby; Dec. 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Swift, George W., 23; July 30, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, '62, Sergt;
promoted 2d Leiut. Co. K.
Talbert, James D., 38; Aug. 5, '62, Aurelius; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Taylor, George W., 21; Aug. 14, '62, Niles; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec.
23, '63; Sergt., Dec. 17, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Taylor, Oscar E., 19; Jan. 6, '64, Norwich; Jan. 6; dis. May 29,
'65, Philadelphia.
Teeter, Benjamin, 18; Feb. 8, '64, Groton; Feb. 8; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Teeter, Cicero, 29; Aug. 19, '64, Dryden; Aug. 19, 1 year; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 5, '65, Elmira.
Teeter, Edwin H., 20; Aug. 11, '64, Dryden; Aug. 11, 1 year;
dis. June 10, '65, Elmira.
Teeter, Lewis, 20; Feb. 15, '64, Groton; Feb. 15; k. April 2, '65,
Petersburg.

526 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Tenny, Amos, 39; Jan. 1, '64, Marcellus; Jan. 1; deserted Nov.
16, '64.
Thornton, Charles, 25; Jan. 2, '64, 3d N. Y. Dist.; Jan. 2; de
serted Feb. 5, '64.
Tichnor, George, 21; Feb. 11, '64, Lansing; Feb. 11; d. Oct. 22,
'64, from wounds received Oct. 19 at Cedar Creek.
Tower, Philo, 44; Aug. 1, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 8, '64,
Fort Simmons.
Turner, William H, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Genoa; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Sept. 9, '63; M. O., July 6, '65.
Tuttle, Frank J., 18; Jan. 19, '64, Pharsalia; Jan. 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Waldo, Lyman M., 34; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Waldron, Lyman, 44; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. June 9,
'65, Philadelphia.
Ware, Clarence, 18; May 18, '63, Auburn; June 3; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ware, William, 44; Feb. 9, '63, Auburn; March 5; dis. May 15,
'65.
Watts, Thomas, 38; July 13, '63, Fort Bayard; deserted the next
day.
Weaver, Melvin, 18; Feb. 15, '64, Lansing; Feb. 15; deserted
Nov. 4, '64,
West, Oren, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Lansing; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Wheeler, Amos, 18; May 23, '63, Galen; June 3; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wheeler, James, 33; July 24, '63, Fort Bayard; deserted Sept.
8, '63.
Wheeler, Merritt, 44; Aug. 20, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
White, Elisha, 18; Jan. 30, '63, Auburn; March 5; Corp., April
9, '64, dis. July 13, '65.
Wiggins, Robert, 44; Sept. 11, '62, Auburn; refused to muster
in; dis. Nov. 12, '62.
Wilcox, Edward H, 26; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. May
2, '63, hospital, Washington.
Wilder, Oscar, 26; Jan. 5, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Willis, George, 19; Feb. 11, '64, Lansing; Feb. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Willis, James, 22; Feb. 11, '64, Lansing; Feb. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wilson, Nelson, 19; Feb. 15, '64, Ithaca; Feb. 15; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wilson, Philip R., 19; March 6, '63, Auburn; March 8; wd. Fort
Bayard, '64; trans. Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Wolcott, George W., 19; Jan. 6, '64, Norwich; Jan. 6; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wood, Jacob, 24; July 8, '63, Fort Bayard; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY G

Capt. H. J. Knowles. 1st Lieut. C. W. Hough (F).
Capt. Wm. Wood, later Major and Lieut. Colonel.
2nd Lieut. T. J. Chaddock. Frank B. Raze. 1st Sergt. S. T. Devoe, later Chaplain.

COMPANY G. 527
COMPANY G.
With one or two exceptions Company G came from what was,
up to 1826, the old town of Wolcott, i. e., the towns of Huron,
Wolcott, Butler, and Rose, with the storm centre in Wolcott.
The excitement incident to the raising of Company A did not
subside, but continued to increase till it appeared that another
company must be raised, and common choice selected William
Wood of Westbury as the leader. This post office is in Butler
in part, and the captain rated from that town. First Lieutenant
Hawley was from Wolcott, and 2d Lieutenant Woodward was
a Rose man.
The company was raised in about two weeks' time, the date
August 19th appearing most frequently in the lists. In these
early rolls just one name is found as from Savannah, and one
from Sterling in Cayuga county. CAPTAINS.
William Wood, 32; Aug. 24, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 24; promoted Major.
Daniel B. Harmon, from Co. H, Sept. 28, '64; rank from June
2S; dis. Nov. 12, '64.
Henry J. Rhodes, from 1st Lieut., Feb. 18, '65; rank from Nov.
12, '64; M. O., July 6, '65, Brevet Major, U. S. Vols.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
William Hawley, 42; Aug. 24, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, 1st Lieut.;
rank from Aug. 24; promoted Captain Co. E.
John S. McMaster, from 1st Sergt., Co. K, May 17, '64; rank
from March 17; dis. March 25, '65; commissioned Captain
Feb. 18, '65; not mustered.
Henry J. Rhodes, from 2d Lieut., Nov. 30, '64; rank from Nov.
14; wd. March 25, '65; promoted Captain.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Seymour Woodward, 24; Aug. 24, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 24; dis. Feb. 23, '64.
Henry J. Rhodes, from Co. A, March 30, '64; rank from March
1; promoted 1st Lieut.
Philip Sturge, from Sergt. Co. K, March 14, '64; trans, back to
Co. K.
Stillman J. Grandy, from 1st Sergt., April 4, '64; dis. Nov. 12,
'64.
Arthur W. Marshall, Nov. 14, '64, from Co. E; trans, to Co. B,
Dec. 30, '64.
Ezra H. Calkins, from Corp., Jan. 15, '65; rank from Nov. 26,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Jefferson T. Chaddock, from Sergt, March 2, '65; M. O., July
6, '65.

528 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abbey, William, 37; Dec. 24, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Abies, William E., 18; Dec. 11, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 31; d. July 11,
'64, Washington.
Adams, James E., 26; Feb. 16, '64, Binghamton; Feb. 28; Corp.,
April 17, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ahem, Matthew, 23; Aug. 31, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. 0., July
6, '65.
Alexander, William, 32; Feb. 16, '64, Newfleld; Feb. 16; d. Feb.
20, '65, Washington.
Allpaugh, William M., 20; Feb. 15, '64, Candor; Feb. 15; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Angle, Lathrop, 18; Dec. 15, '63, Salina; Dec 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Antis, James, Jr., 18; Dec. 27, '63, Sullivan; Dec. 27; dis. Aug.
10, '65, New York.
Bachman, James M., 24; Dec. 15, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 16; dis.
June 21, '65, Washington.
Baggerly. Peter, 21; Dec. 28, '63, Savannah; Dec. 28; wd. March
25, '65, Petersburg; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bailev, Frederick H, 20; Aug. 13, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis.
Feb. 13, '64.
Balch. Elon G., 37; Dec. 21, '63, Galen; Jan. 4, '64; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek; had served in 67th Penn. Vols.
Barber, Perry S., 35; Jan. 4, '64, Hornellsville; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Barker, Charles H., 18; Dec. 25, '63, Sodus; Dec. 29; prisoner
Dec. 30, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Barnard, John H., 20; Aug. 30, '64, Auburn; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Barnes, Abram T., 21; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 28; wd. April
6, '65, Sailor's Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H A.
Becker, David D., 23; Sept. 3, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 3; promoted
2d Lieut. Co. I; he had served in the 3d N. Y. Artillery.
Bell, Alfred J., 25; Dec. 19, '63, Sodus; Dec. 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bell, Alfred W., 28; Sept. 3, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 4, 1 year; dis.
June 16, '65, Washington.
Bell, Charles L., 23; Dec. 19, '63, Sodus; Dec. 29; dis. May 15,
'65, Washington.
Bennett, Harvey, 43; Jan. 4, '64, Galen; Jan. 5; d. July 27, '65,
Washington.
Bennett, Joseph, 22; Nov. 23, '64, New York; Nov. 23, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Billhardt, Charles, 24; Dec. 24, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29: dis. May
15, '65.
Billhardt, Edward, 29; Dec 29, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; dis. Aug.
6, '65.

COMPANY G. 529
Blaisdell, William L., 1.8; Feb. 24, '64, Savannah; March 1;
Corp., May 31, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Boyd, James, 21; Dec. 11, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Brewster, Lafayette, 22; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; trans.
April 18, '64, V. R. C.
Brink, Harvey C, 18; Dec. 30, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 30; d. July 14,
'64, Washington. '
Bristol, Silas M., 37; Feb. 15, '64, Candor; Feb. 16; dis. May 31,
'65, Philadelphia.
Brown, Charles A., 29; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.;
dis. July 1, '64, for promotion in U. S. C. T.
Brown, John, 20; March 31, '64, 6th N. Y. Dist.; March 31; d.
Dec. 22, '64, Philadelphia.
Bunyea, Mortimer, 21; Sept. 30, '63, Galen; Nov. 5; d. Aug. 31,
'64, Washington.
Burch, Jerome, 21; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Burghdorf, William, 25; Aug. 19, '62, Victory; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
11, '64.
Calkins, Ensign L., 19; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Calkins, Ezra Hudson, 22; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp.,
July 11, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Calkins, John, 19; Aug. 23, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov. 16, '64;
wd. April 2, '65, Petersburg; dis. June 29, Philadelphia.
Calkins, Warren, 24; Aug. 22, '62, Butler; Sept. 8, Corp.; wd.
March 25, '65, Petersburg; M. O., July 28, '65, Elmira.
Carrier, Albert, 21; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Carris, Peter J., 28; Dec. 25, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; Corp.,
March 26, '65; dis. July 24, '65.
Carroll, Lawrence, 21; Dec. 12, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 16; wd.
March 25, '64; dis. June 16, '65, Baltimore.
Carter, Jabez, Jr., 31; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
11, '64.
Carter, William W., 23; Aug. 22, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
July 11, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Castler, Marcus B., 19; Dec. 16, '63, Sullivan; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Chaddock, Jefferson T., 18; Aug. 21, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Dec. 16, '62; Sergt., April 24, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Clapp, Cassius M., 18; Sept. 2, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Clark, Timothy, 24; Dec. 29, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clemens, Chesterfield, 25; Sept. 5, '64, Avon; Sept. 6, 1 year;
dis. June 10, '65, Philadelphia.
Cobb, Sanford J., 38; Jan. 22, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 22; dis. May
17, '65, Washington.
34

530 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Conklin, Gilbert, 20; Aug. 25, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8, Corp.;
promoted 2d Lieut., Co. C.
Connell, John, 32; Jan. 14, '64, Washington; Jan. 14; deserted
April 10, '64.
Conway, Thomas, 40; Jan. 1, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; wd. March
25, '65, Petersburg ; dis. June 28, '65, hospital, Rochester.
Cooper, Levi, 28; Sept. 3, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 3, 1 year; dis. June
14, '65, York, Penn.
Courser, Moses, 43; Aug. 25, '62, Sterling; Sept. 8; deserted
Sept. 8, '62.
Cronk, George E., 19; July 16, '63, Syracuse; July 16; deserted
March 26, '64.
Culliford, Eugene, 21; Jan. 3, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Curren, Jacob, 43; Aug. 23, '62, Conquest; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, '64, V. R. C.
Dean, Theodore S., 18; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept 8; Artificer,
April 17, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Delamater, Charles G., 27; Aug. 29, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.;
dis. Feb. 11, '64.
Delong, John, 30; Aug. 20, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; d. Oct. 15, '64,
Winchester, Va.
Depew, John, 32; Aug. 24, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. June 24,
'65, New York.
Devoe, Hiram, 40; Aug. 24, '64, Albany; Aug. 24, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
De Voe, John H, 16; Sept. 16, '62, Butler; Sept. 8, Musician;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Devoe, Martin, 27; Dec. 22, '63, Sullivan; Dec. 22; dis. Aug.
17, '65.
Devoe, Stephen T., 40; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
1st Sergt., July 1, '64; promoted Chaplain.
Dixon, Abel, 22; Aug. 24, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; d. April 29, '64,
Washington.
Doremus, Spencer, 18; Dec 11, '63, Rose; Dec. 29 in Co. H;
trans, to G Feb. 5, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.;
Veteran.
Downs, Charles, 22; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Duell, Leroy P., 18; Dec. 26, '63, Marion; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dunbar, Dorus, 28; Aug. 30, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 25,
'64.
Duncan, Charles, 18; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Earles, Alpheus, 26; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., Aug.
11, '63; Sergt., March 3, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Earles, Daniel, 24; Aug. 16, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.

John Calkins. J. H. DeVoe. Warren Calkins.
Abram Wolvin. Henry Allen (F). Isaac Grant.
All of G Company, save Allen. From tintypes made at Meade's Station, Petersburg, March. 1865

COMPANY G. 531
Earles, David, 30; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Earles, Isaac, 22; Aug. 16, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
English, John D., 37; Sept. 3, '64, Seneca Falls; Sept. 5, 1 year;
dis. July 12, '65, Rochester.
Eygnor, Abram, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., Oct.
14, '64; Sergt, May 31, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Evgnor, Edwin, 21; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Faulkner, Samuel, 42; Dec 29, '63, Sodus; Dec. 29; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Feek, Nicholas, 44; Aug. 25, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; Corp., Oct. 3,
'62; dis. Feb. 20, '65.
Fink, Jeremiah, 31; Aug. 19, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; dis. June 9,
'65, Philadelphia.
Finout, James H, 35; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Nov.
13, '63.
Fleming, Ebenezer, 25; Dec. 29, '63, Butler; Jan. 2, '64; Corp.,
Dec. 20, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Foster, Dennis, 20; Dec. 7, '63, Washington; Dec. 7; dis. June
20, '65, Washington.
Fowler, George W., 21; Aug. 19, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. Oct.
8, '64.
Fowler, Merritt F., 25; Aug. 5, '62, Butler; Sept. 8 in Co. H;
trans, to G, Oct. 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Fredericks, William, 27; Dec. 11, '63, Washington; Dec. 16;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gibson, Alexander, 41; Dec. 21, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 29; dis. June
26, '65, Philadelphia.
Gildersleeve, George H, 18; Dec 11, '63, Galen; Jan. 4, '64;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gildersleeve. Porter, 19; Dec. 30, '63, Rose; Jan. 4, '64; dis.
June 29,' '65.
Grandy, Lewis D., 37; Sept. 2, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, 1864, V. R. C.
Grandy, Stillman J., 27; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
1st Sergt., July 26, '63; promoted 2d Lieut.
Grandy, William C., 20; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis.
June 29, '65, Philadelphia.
Grant. Isaac W., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec
6, '62; Sergt, Aug. 5, '63; 1st Sergt, Dec 16, '64; wd. March
25, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Grant, Willis, 35; Sept. 3, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 3, 1 year; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. Feb. 20, '65.
Gray, Loren O., 33; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. May 21,
'63, Fort Mansfield.
Green, Rush, 18; Dec. 26, '63, Butler; Jan. 4, '64; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

532 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Griswold, Erastus A., 39; Dec. 17, '63, Wolcott; Jan. 2, '64; d.
Jan. 27, '65, Virginia.
Harper, Albert, 35; Dec. 24, '63, Savannah; Jan. 29; dis. Oct.
10, '64.
Haven, James A., 38; Dec. 26, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hawkins, William, 40; Dec. 26, '63, Sodus; Dec. 29; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Henry, William, 18; Dec. 30, '63, Wolcott; Dec 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hersey, Charles A., 44; Dec. 31, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 31; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hill, Alonzo D., 27; Dec. 19, '63, Marion; Dec 26; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hill, Erastus T., 36; Aug. 20, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. July
11, '65, Rochester.
Hodges, Alexander, 31; Dec. 26, '63, Sodus; Dec. 28; wd. March
25, '65; dis. June 9, Washington.
Hoffman, Benjamin F., 25; Aug. 20, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8,
Sergt.; 1st Sergt., no date; promoted 2d Lieut., Co. D.
Hoffman, Edwin M., 21; Aug. 25, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Holley, James H., 35; Dec. 9, '63, Auburn; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Home, William, 23; Aug. 20, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; Corp., March
20, '63; Q. M. Sergt., April 24, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Ingersoll, John J., 44; Aug. 19, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. July
8, '63.
Ingraham, Jacob, 33; Dec. 28, '63, Butler; Jan. 4, '64; dis. Feb.
28, '65.
Jackson, Andrew, 29; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Jenkins, Reuben, 38; Aug. 19, '62, Sterling; Sept. 8, Wagoner;
dis. Dec. 23, '62.
Jewell, William R., 19; Aug. 18, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Johnson, David, 31; Aug. 25, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Keeny, John J., 28; Dec. 26, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; dis. June
9, '65.
Kellerhouse, Konrad, 32; Dec. 13, '63, Lyons; Jan. 4, '64; dis.
Oct. 10, '64.
Kile, Luzerne, 22; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d. Corp.,
Aug. 8, '63, Washington.
King, John J., 28; Dec 26, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; dis. June
9, '65. Baltimore.
Knapp, Isaac, 23; Dec. 30, '63, Mentz; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kunz, John, 27; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; deserted Oct.
19, '64.

COMPANY G. 533
Langley, Samuel Wing, 31; Aug. 19, '62, Huron; Sept. 8, Corp.;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Larock, Leonard, 18; Feb. 13, '63, Galen; March 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Larzelere, Warren E., 18; Dec. 21, '63, Fayette; Dec. 21; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lee, Benjamin, 37; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 9, '64.
Leroy, James, 24; Dec. 19, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lovejoy, Daniel F., 21; Dec. 19, '63, Marion; Dec. 29; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Loveless, George, 18; Aug. 29, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Lutes, Jacob, 26; Sept. 2, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Lynch, Thomas, 25; Jan. 16, '64, Washington; Jan. 16; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McAlister, William H., 18; Aug. 30, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
McArthur, Olin, 18; Aug. 22, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt.,
Dec. 20, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
McClay, James H., 25; Dec. 16, '63, Somerset; Dec. 28; Corp.,
March 3, '65; dis. July 24, '65.
Mackie, James V., 21; Jan. 4, '64, Galen; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McMillen, James, 43; Dec. 28, '63, Rose; Dec 29; dis. July 18,
'65, Rochester.
McMillen, Michael, 28; Dec. 17, '63, Washington; Dec. 17; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Madelong, Theodore, 34 ; Dec 16, '63, Hannibal ; Dec. 29 ; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Marvin, James H, 24; Sept. 1, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp., Jan.
22, '63; Sergt, Oct. 4, '64, Color-bearer; M. O., July 6, '65.
Mead. Dwight, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Merrill, James A., 18; Jan. 2, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 5; dis. Sept.
26, '64.
Merrill, John H, 19; Aug. 28, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Musician;
M. O.. July 6, '65.
Miller, Samuel D., 23; Aug. 24, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp..
July 11, '64; Sergt., March 17, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Miller, William H, 27; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Artificer,
April 5, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Moore, Calvin B., 42; Aug. 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Moore, George B., 20; Aug. 4, '63, Galen; Aug. 4; k. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek; had served an enlistment in Co. K, 102d N.
Y. Vols.
Morey, Horace M., 35; Dec. 10, '63, Rose; Dec 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

534 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Munson, Charles H.. 29; Dec. 21, '63, Sodus; Dec. 28; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 13, '65, Philadelphia.
Murray, Jeremiah, 40; Dec. 28, '63, Junius; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Murray, John, 18; Jan. 1, '64, Butler; Jan. 2; dis. June 10, '65,
Philadelphia.
Niles, Theodore H. 18; Dec 16, '63, Somerset; Dec 16; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Northrop, Charles, 18; Dec. 14, '63, Sullivan; Dec. 14; prisoner
May 27, '64, Hanover Junction, Va.; sent to Richmond;
thence, June 8, to Andersonville; no further record.
O'Brien, Michael, 28; Dec. 30, '63, Junius; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Olich, Charles, 43; Jan. 4, '64, Sodus; Jan. 5; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Painter, Alanson, 41; Dec 19, '63, Conquest; Dec. 19; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Peck, Jeremiah, 40; Aug. 25, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; dis. June 14,
'65, Washington.
Perkins, Benjamin W., 30; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Perkins, Ira, 28; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; trans. V. R. C.
July 1, '63. Clark's "Military History of Wayne County"
savs, "Died, 1864, Washington."
Perry, Jefferson T., 38; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 4,
'64, Baltimore, of wounds received Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Phillips, Stephen, 22; March 13, '63, Rose; March 13; deserted
Oct. 23, '63; had been in Co. E, 10th N. Y. Cav.
Pierce, William J., 23; Aug. 19, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
March 20, '63; dis. Feb. 8, '64.
Pierson, Forrest R, 20; Sept. 1, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Musician,
Dec 6. '62; M. O., July 6, '65.
Plank, Franklin, 18; Dec. 29, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 29; wd., place
not given; dis. Oct. 2, '65, Rochester.
Plank. Theodore N., 1.8; Aug. 19, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans.
April 18, '64, V. R. C.
Pritchard, John, 19; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Proseus, Frank M., 38; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; Sept. 8, 1 year; d.
Dec. 9, '64, City Point, Va.
Ramsperger, Matthias, 30; Jan. 4, '64, Lyons; Jan. 5; trans.
Oct. 24. '64, V. R. C.
Rand, Willard, 22; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., July 11,
'64; k. March 26, '65, on picket before Petersburg.
Raze. B. Frank, 18; Dec. 16, '63, Somerset; Dec. 16; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rhodes, Charles. C, 31; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; M. O..
July 6, '65.
Rodman, Vespasian H, 28; Dec. 24, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; trans.
Feb. 24, '65, V. R. C.

COMPANY G. 535
Rogers, Patrick, 21; Dec. 16, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 17; wd.
March 25, '65; dis. July 13, '65, Philadelphia.
Sanford, Charles H, 19; Dec. 21, '63, Marion; Dec. 29; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Saut, Leonard C, 35; March 2 '63, Fair Haven; March 2; dis.
as Corp. June 19, '65, Washington.
Savoy, Frank, 25; Dec. 31, '63, Marion; Jan. 1, '64; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Scott, Artemus G., 28; Aug. 25, '63, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
11, '64.
Scott, Irving, 21; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 9, '64.
Scott, John J., 41; June 20, '63, Wolcott; June 20; Corp., March
10, '65; dis. July 24, '65.
Sedore, Samuel W., 24; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Aug. 11, '63; Sergt., Nov. 16, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sedore, Stephen, 36; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O..
July 6, '65.
Shannon, Theodore, 35; Jan. 4, '64, Rose; Jan. 5; dis. May 24,
'65.
Sherman, James, 20; Aug. 19, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., April
24, '64; Sergt, April 17, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sherman, Robert, 27; Dec. 14, '63, Rose; Dec. 29; trans. Feb. 24,
'65, V. R. C; had served in Co. E, 98th N. Y., and was wd.
at Fair Oaks.
Sherman, William P., 22; Aug. 14, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; d. Nov.
27, Fort Foote.
Shroeder, Andrew> 27; Dec. 16, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 16; k. April
6, '65, Sailor's Creek.
Silliman, Hiram, 27; Aug. 23, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Silliman, Robert, 18; Oct. 19, '63, Lyons; Nov. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Darius, 44; Dec. 31, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Edwin, 25; Aug. 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Smith. Elisha, 39; Sept. 1, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Smith, Harry C, 34; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. May
10, *64.
Smith, Lewis, 20; Aug. 19, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., Aug. 5,
'63; Sergt., Sept. 24, '64; trans, field and staff, Q. M. Sergt.
Stern, fienry C, 21; Sept. 2, '64, Albany; Sept. 2, 1 year; pro
moted 2d Lieut, Co. A.
Stern, Henry M., 23; Sept. 2, '64, Albany; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, "'65,
Stewart, John F., 26; Aug. 25, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8, Corp.;
'Sergt., Dec. 16, '62; promoted 2d Lieut., Co. D.
Taylor, Reuben, 18; Jan. 2, '64, Savannah; Jan. 21; d. Aug.
30, '64.

536 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Terwilliger, Calvin H., 22; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 15, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Thomas, David H., 23; Sept. 7, '64, Marcellus; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Thompson, Hiram, 25; Dec. 14, '63, Sodus; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Thompson, William W., 19; Aug. 29, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis.
May 24, '65.
Tillow, Robert C, 18; Dec. 30, '63, Butler; Dec. 31; d. Jan. 20,
'65, Washington.
Towlerton, James, 36; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; trans.
Jan. 29, '64, V. R. C.
Tracv, Calvin B., 21; Aug. 19, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; M. O., Julv
6, '65.
Tracy, Roswell, 18; Aug. 22, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; Corp., March
3, '65; M. 6., July 6, '65.
Traver, Robert N., 32; Aug. 19, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. June 10, '65.
Tuttle, Jabez H., 29; Dec. 19, '63, Hannibal; Dec 29; d. July
18, '64, Washington.
Van Antwerp, John, 24; Aug. 23, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; d., Artif
icer, April 17, '64, Butler.
Waldron. Harvey M., 18; Sept. 3, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
West, Harrison B., 18; Dec. 30, '63, Savannah; Jan. 2, '64;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wetherby, James, 18; Aug. 19, '62, Sterling; Sept. 8; prisoner
in the "Valley," no date; dis. June 16, '65, Elmira.
Whalen, Jeremiah, 23; Dec. 22, '63, Sullivan; Dec. 22; k. April
2, '65, Petersburg.
White, Charles, 23; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; d. Nov. 15,
'62, Washington.
Wiggins, Charles, 21; July 22, '63, Fair Haven; July 22; wd.
March 25, '65, Petersburg ; dis. Aug. 11, '65, Washington.
Wiggins, William H, 21; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott: Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Williams, Charles, 45; Jan. 4, '64, Sodus; Jan. 4; dis. Feb.
20, '65.
Willis, Theodore H., 18; Dec. 16, '63, Somerset; Dec. 16; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Winchell, Calvin, 29; Aug. 19, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; trans. April
18, V. R. C.
Winters. Charles, 39; Dec. 18, '63, Lyons; Dec. 29; dis. Dec.
20, '64.
Winters, Ernst, 19; Dec. 21, '63, Lyons; Dec 29; trans. Jan. 16,
'65, V. R. C.
Wood, Abram L., 19; Dec. 24, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; trans. Jan.
16, '65, V. R. C.
Wood, Charles E., 24; Dec. 24, '63, Galen; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY H.

Ist Lieut. D. B Harmon, later Captain Co. G. 2nd Lieut. Sidney T. Colvin.
Capt. John L. Crane.
Henry P. Howard, Postmaster. Sergt. Chas. L. Shergur (F). Smith Holden (F).

COMPANY H. 537
Woodruff, Frank M., 22; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; wd.
March 25, '65, Petersburg ; dis. June 14, '65, Washington.
Wolvin, Abram, 18; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Wolvin, David, 22; Jan. 4, '64, Butler; Jan. 4; no M. O.
Wolvin, Robert, 24; Aug. 19, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
11, '64.
Yeoman, Ashley, 18; Jan. 1, '64, Savannah; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Zimmer, Benjamin, 23; Dec. 16, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 16;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
COMPANY H.
Eastern Wayne made up the membership of H, with Galen
ranking an easy first, though more men from Rose went into
this company than into any other one. John L. Crane, Esq.,
a rising young lawyer of Clyde, gave the scheme a start and
pushed it vigorously, ably seconded by 1st Lieutenant Tunis Vos-
burg of Galen and 2d Lieutenant Daniel Harmon of Rose. Sid
ney T. Colvin, who lived just over the town line in Butler,
recruited several men and was made a sergeant, eventually
becoming a lieutenant. J. D. Knapp, later a lieutenant, was
one of the very first to be enrolled. The work of enlistment
was nearly or quite all done in about two weeks, but it was hot
work while it lasted. CAPTAINS.
John L. Crane, 26; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; rank from Aug.
24; dis. Nov. 12, '64.
Joseph W. Jewhurst, from 1st Lieut, Co. I, Feb. 28, '65; rank
from Feb. 3; M. O., July 6, '65.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Tunis Vosburg, 22; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; rank from Aug.
25; dis. Dec. 30, '62.
Daniel B. Harmon, from 2d Lieut., Jan. 14, '63; rank from Dec.
30, '62; promoted Captain Co. G.
George H. Pidge, from 1st Sergt, April 4, '64; dis. Sept. 12, '64.
Charles D. Lent, from 2d Lieut., Nov. 1, '64; rank from March
16; M. O., July 6, '65.
Philip P. Tindall, from 2d Lieut, Jan. 14, '65; rank from Nov.
28, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Daniel B. Harmon, 34; Aug. 25, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 25; promoted 1st Lieut.
Charles D. Lent, from Sergt., Co. B, July 3, '63; rank from June
10; promoted 1st Lieut.

538 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Sidney T. Colvin, from Sergt, Feb. 9; rank from Jan. 25, '64;
wd. Sept. 19, '64; promoted 1st Lieut., Sept. 28, '64, not
mustered; dis. Dec 19, '64.
Philip P. Tindall, from Sergt., Dec. 16, '64; rank from Sept. 15;
promoted 1st Lieut.
Edmond Young, from Sergt., Jan. 11, '65; rank from Sept. 12,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Adams, Eugene H, 40; Sept. 5, '64, Ledyard; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Allbright, John H, 18; Sept. 7, '64, Albany; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. 0., July 6, '65.
Allen, Charles H., 23; Jan. 4, '64, Schroeppel; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Anderson, William, 21; Aug. 23, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; wd. Cold
Harbor; dis. Jan. 9, '65.
Andrews, Asa N., 26; Dec. 31, '63, Volney; Dec. 31; dis. June
3, '65.
Andrews, Joseph, 44; Aug. 23, '62, Rose; Aug. 23; no further
record.
Angus, Elijah, 38; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Angus, Gilbert F., 19; Aug. 25, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb.
11, '64; Sergt, Dec. 30, '64; 1st Sergt, March 12, '65; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Anton, Manuel, 22; Jan. 31, '65, Goshen; Jan. 31; no M. 0.
Baird, Isaac C, 27; Sept. 5, '64, Galen; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Barless, Romaine C, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. May
27, '65.
Bartlev, Peter G., 15; Jan. 4, '64, Fort Mansfield; Jan. 4; de
serted May 26, '64.
Bastedo, Charles, 20 ; Jan. 4, '64, Genoa ; Jan. 5 ; no M. O.
Baxter, Charles A., 22; Jan. 5, '64, Salina; Jan. 5; deserted
July 9, '64.
Billings, Burns, 23; Sept. 1, '64, Malone; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Birdsall", Isaac M., 37; Sept. 5, '64, Galen; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Bixby, Andrew J., 24; Aug. 22, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
1st Sergt., March 10, '64; commissioned 1st Lieut, after his
death; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; d. Jan. 1, '65, Dan
ville, Va.
Bliton, William G., 35; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. March
10, '63.
Bluff, Henry (Wm. H. Coombs), 30; Jan. 13, '64, Russia; Jan.
13; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; on rejoining regiment

COMPANY H. 539
was detailed as sharpshooter at brigade headquarters; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; was an English veteran of the
Crimean War.
Bowles, James A., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov.
10, '63; Sergt., April 23, '64; promoted 2d Lieut. Co. I.
Boynton, Judson C, 26; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year;
dis. July 18, '65, Rochester.
Brewster, Benjamin D., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Brooks, Edward H, 44; Dec. 21, '63, Brutus; Jan. 4, '64; no
M. O.
Brooks, Lewis M., 23; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted
Nov. 24, '62.
Brooks, William, 28; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., April
22, '64; Sergt., Dec. 30, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Brown, Carlos, 27; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; Sept. 2, 1 year; dis. July
25, '65, Rochester.
Brown, John, 43; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., March 2,
'65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Brown, Thomas, 28; June 2, '63, Palmyra; June 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bunker, Lewis D., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Cicero; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Burton, Reuben, 18; Aug. 15, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Sergt., Jan.
28, '63; promoted 2d Lieut. Co. I.
Cain, Theodore, 21; Aug. 12, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; deserted
Dec. 15, '62.
Carpenter, Charles, 36; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Chamberlain, Charles, 28; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Chapman, Cortland, 43; Sept. 3, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, "65.
Collins, Leonard, 30; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
Julv 6, '65.
Colvin, Sidney T., 23; Aug. 14, '62, Butler; Sept. 8, Sergt; pro
moted 2d Lieut.
Conklin, Tunis, 21; Aug. 15, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Gorp., Jan. 17,
'64 ; k. Julv 9, '64, Monocacy.
Connor, Patrick, 36; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Cook, William H., 20; Sept. 5, '64, Lyons; Sept. 5, 1 year; d. May
7, '65, Danville. Va.
Cooper, Chester A., 18; July 23, '63, Galen; July 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cooper, William H., 40; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; dis. Feb
22, '65.
Coombs, William H. Vid. Henry Bluff.
Cornell, Zebulon A., 27; Aug. 10, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.

540

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Cronkhite, Charles, 27; Dec. 30, '63, Salina; Dec. 30; dis. May
15, '65. J
Crosier, Edward, 28; Dec. 29, '63, Scriba; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Currier, George, 42; Jan. 18, '64, Russia; Jan. 18; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dana, Thomas, 28; Sept. 2, Albany; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Davis, Theodore M., 34; Jan. 2, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; d. Aug.
19, '64. 8
Deady, Henry (Henry Marsh), 22; Sept. 5, '62, Rose; Sept. 8;
Corp., Dec 30, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Desmond, John, 18; Sept. 3, '64, Galen; Sept. 5, 1 year; dis.
June 20, '65.
Desmond, Timothy, 29; Sept. 3, '64, Scipio; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Dipley, Charles, 43; Dec. 4, '63, Cicero; Dec. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ditton, James K. P., 18; May 5, '63, Lyons; May 5; prisoner
Nov. 6, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Duell, Albert E., 21; May 2, '63, Palmyra; May 2; Corp., Oct.
18, '64; wd. April 2, '64, Petersburg; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Duell, Charles N., 33; Dec. 26, '63, Volney; Dec. 26; dis. June
9, '65, on account of amputation of right leg.
Duell, John, 26; Aug. 24, '62; Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., Jan. 28, '63;
d. Jan. 31, '64, Galen.
Dunham, Andrew J., 21; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Oct. 18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Dusenbury, Joseph C, 21; Aug. 13, '63, Galen; Aug. 13; de
serted April 10, '64; Vet. Co. I, 3d N. Y. A.
Edwards, Robert, 20; March 2, '64, Oswego; Dec. 7, '64; wd.
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ellis, John, 36; Aug. 3, '64, Schenectady; Aug. 30; dis. June
21, '65, Washington.
Evans, David, 36; Jan. 4, '64, Cicero; Jan. 4; k. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek.
Feek, Alonzo, 21; Dec. 10, '63, Rose; Dec. 10; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 12, '64, Danville, Va,
Fellows, Andrew J., 24; Feb. 25, '64, Fort Mansfield; Feb. 25;
wd. Cold Harbor; trans. Nov. 18, '64, V. R. C.
Fisher, Gilbert, 29; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Forbes, Sanford, 19; Jan. 12, '64, Salina; Jan. 12; deserted July
9, '64.
Forgar, Charles. 33; Dec. 29, '63, Clay; Dec. 29; wd. Cold Har
bor; trans. May 4 to Co. G, 19th Regt., V. R. C.
Forgar, Oscar, 21; Jan. 9, '64, Salina; Jan. 9; dis. June 13, '65,
Washington.

COMPANY H. 541
Forncrook, Jabez C, 18; Sept. 2, '62, Galen; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Fosmire, John, 27; Sept 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 6, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Fowler, Benjamin D., 18; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Furnum, Charles A., 30; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Sergt;
dis. March 2, '64.
Garratt, Richard, 38; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. March
10, '63.
Gates, George W., 28; Jan. 4, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gillett, Avery H., 30; Sept. 3, '64, Rose; Sept. 5, 1 year; dis.
June 13, '65, Washington.
Gillett, Orison, 41; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Gillett, William B., 28; Aug. 24, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Gokey, Charles, 20; Sept. 1, '64, Malone; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Goodyear, Cortland, 37; Dec. 10, '63, Galen; Dec. 18; dis. May
15, '65, Washington.
Goodyear, Lucius, 18; Jan. 4, '64, New Haven; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Greenman, John, 21; Dec. 30, '63, Scriba; Dec 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gridley^ Charles L., 21; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; Corp., Oct.
18, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gridley, Edward, 24; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.; wd.
June 1, '64, Cold Harbor; dis. Feb. 10, '65.
Groesbeck, Charles S., 23; Sept. 5, '64, Williamson; Sept. 5, 1
year; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hall, William, 29; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted Dec.
17, '62.
Hallett, Horace B., 37; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Handley, Henry, 28; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., Sept.
15, '64; Sergt, March 12, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hannon, William, 18; Dec. 29, '63, Scriba; Jan. 2; dis. May
15 '65.
Harmon, Alfred B., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Harmon, William J., 28; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; wd. Cold
Harbor; dis. June 16, '64, Washington.
Harper, Alexander, 38; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Harris, Henrv, 21; Aug. 25, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Harris, William, 44; Dec. 15, '63, Auburn; Dec 31; no M. O.

542 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Hazzard, William, 43; Dec. 15, '63, 24th N. Y. Dist.; Dec. 15;
deserted July 13, '64, Washington.
Hendrick, David A., 18; Sept. 5, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year;
dis. June 13, '65, Washington.
Hendrix, Peter, 40; Sept. 3, '64, Galen; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hickok, William F., 30; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; trans. Feb.
5, '65, V. R. C; dis. June 28, '65.
Hilts, Peter, 32; Aug. 22, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. July 13, '63.
Hirst, Charles R., 27; June 4, '63, Rose; June 5; dis. Dec. 5, '64;
Vet. Co. D, 3d N. Y. A.
Hollenbeck, Martin, 22; Aug. 25, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; deserted
Sept. 22, '62.
Hollenbeck, Richard I., 18; Jan. 7, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 7; wd.
Cold Harbor; dis. May 23, '65.
Holmes, John C, 18; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hopkins, Almond, 27; Aug. 14, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; dis.
June 15, '65.
Horn, George O., 28; Aug. 27, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt.,
April 22, '64; wd. July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. Sept. 4, '65,
Albany.
Howard, Henry P., 37; Aug. 25, '62, Rose; Sept. 8, Artificer,
and later regimental postmaster; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hubbard, Hernando, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Scriba; Jan. 4; dis. May
8, '64.
Hurlburt, Thomas K, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept 8; dis.
March 10, '63.
Hutchins, Andrew, 43; Aug. 22, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. June
23, '65.
Hynes, John T., 31; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Jeffrey, Thomas W., 33; Dec. 29, '63, New Haven; Dec. 29; de
tailed as sharpshooter at brigade headquarters ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Jenkins, Celestus A., 23; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Feb. 20, '64; k. Sept. 19, '64; had served in 15th
N. Y. Infantry.
Jenner, James W., 36; Sept. 5, '64, Williamson; Sept. 5, 1 year;
k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Keller, George, 35; Dec 9, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 9; dis. May 16,
'65, York, Penn.
Kellogg, Ethan B., 21; Aug. 25, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. March
10, '64.
Kennedy, Joseph, 22; Dec. 29, '63, New Haven; Dec. 29; trans.
May 15, '65, V. R. C.
Knapp, James D., 21; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt.,
Feb. 23, '64; 1st Sergt, March 2, '65; promoted 1st Lieut.
Co. C.

COMPANY H. 543
Kneeley, Michael, 35; Aug. 25, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. Jan. 17,
'64.
Knight, Abraham, 44; Aug. 19, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
Knight, Thomas C, 18; Nov. 7, '63, Galen; Nov. 7; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. May 15, '65.
Lake, Charles A., 22; Dec. 23, '63, Fort Mansfield; Dec. 23;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lake, William, 18j March 4, '64, Geddes; March 5; dis. June 15,
'65, Annapolis Junction, Md.
Lamb, William H., 29; Sept. 5, '62, Huron; Sept. 8; deserted
Sept. 29, '62.
Lamphear, Parvis, 37; Jan. 16, '64, Russia; Jan. 18; dis. Aug.
13, '64.
Lape, Jairus, 40; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.; Artificer,
'63; k. July 9, '64, Monocacy.
Lawrence, Andrew D., 35; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 26; wd.
Cold Harbor; dis. May 30, '65, York, Penn.
Lawrence, James M., 39; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec 26; d. July
12, '64, City Point, Va.
Lee, Charles A., 28; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. June 20,
'65, Washington.
Leonard, Edwin, 18; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year;
d. May 10, '65.
Leonard, Egbert, 18; Aug. 31,'64, Junius; Aug. 31; no M. O.
Linehan, James, 18; Jan. 5, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 5; d. Dec 5, '64.
Lynch, John, 19; Jan. 12, '64, Syracuse; prisoner July 9, '64,
Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mabb, John, 39; Aug. 31, '64, Rose; Sept. 7, 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
McBride, George N., 31; Aug. 26, '64, Auburn; Aug. 26, 1 year;
dis. May 15, '65.
McComb, George C, 31; Dec. 5, '63, Galen; Dec. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McGrane, Charles, 27; Aug. 10, '63, Palmyra; Aug. 10; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McGuinness, Daniel, 21; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. July
28, '63, Fort Mansfield.
McGuire, James, 15; Dec. 23, '63, Fort Mansfield; Dec 23,
Musician; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mclntyre, John V., 19; Oct. 10, '64, Rochester; 1 year; dis.
June 9. '65, Philadelphia.
Mclntyre, Levi, 20; June 17, '63, Wolcott; June 17; trans. Feb.
17, '64, V. R. C.
Mclntyre, William H., 24; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year;
promoted 2d Lieut. Co. C; Vet. Co. B, 27th N. Y.
Mackay, Alonzo, 20; Dec. 11, '63, Salina; Dec. 28; dis. May 9,
'65.
McKeon, George, 40; Sept. 5, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 5, 1 year; wd.
April 2, '64, Petersburg; M. O., July 6, '65.

544 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Manners, Patrick, 21; Dec. 29, '63, New Haven; Dec. 29; wd.
Cold Harbor; deserted Jan. 9, '65; a case of bad manners.
Marsh, Cornelius A., 21; Aug. 15, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. May
2, '64.
Marsh, Henry. Vid. Henry Deady.
Marsh, Uriah, 24; Aug. 28, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; Corp., Oct. 18, '64;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Martin, Gregory, 33; Jan. 4, '64, New Haven; Jan. 4; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Matthews, Calvin, 43; Dec. 18, '63, Savannah; Dec. 28; no M. O.
Matthews, William H, 21; Aug. 30, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Mattison, John E., 18; Jan. 14, '64, Eaton; Jan. 14; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mecorney, Edwin, 36; Sept. 5, '64, Seneca Falls; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Menanson, Joseph, 23; Dec 14, '63, Galen; Dec. 14; dis. Dec.
2, '64.
Meyer, Jacob, 32; Aug. 30, '62, Galen, in Co. K; Sept. 8; trans.
to Co. H Dec. 19, '62; Corp., Dec. 30, '64; wd. Sept. 19, '64,
Winchester; M. O., July 6, '65.
Miller, Charles H., 19; Jan. 11, '64, Salina; Jan. 11; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Miller, Peter, 45; Dec. 3, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; d. Sept. 9, '64,
Berryville, Va.
Mills, Charles C, 44; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; wd. Cold Har
bor; trans. Oct. 18, '64, V. R. C.
Mills, Francis A., 25; Dec. 17, '63, Savannah; Dec. 27; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Morey, Edwin, 31; Dec. 8, '63, Rose; Dec. 8; d. June 3, '64, from
wounds received at Cold Harbor.
Morris, Uriah, 20; Aug. 11, '64, Sempronius; Aug. 11, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Nelson, Reuben G., 18; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Dec. 26; d. Sept.
23, '64, from wounds received Sept. 19 at Winchester.
Newman, John, 21 ; Jan. 9, '64, Salina ; Jan. 9 ; Corp., March 12,
'65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nichols, Peter, 23; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Norcross, Chapin, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Norton, Zenas, 41; Dec. 30, '63, Schroeppel; Dec. 30; d. July 10,
'64, of wounds received at Monocacy on the 9th.
O'Connor, Timothy, 44; Aug. 28, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
O'Neill, George, 19; Jan. 5, '64, Salina; Jan. 5; Corp., June 4,
'65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Neil, John F., 25; Jan. 2, '64, Volney; Jan. 2; dis. May 17, '64.
Ostrander, William H, 23; Feb. 3, '64, Fort Mansfield; Feb. 3;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY H. 545
Page, Joseph, 18; Sept. 8, '64, Ontario; Sept. 8, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Palmer, Edgar, 18; Dec. 16, '63, Savannah; Jan. 4, '64; dis.
June 9, '65, Philadelphia.
Parker, George A., 44; Sept. 7, '64, Huron; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Parker, Morris, 23; Jan. 4, '64, Scriba; Jan. 4; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Peck, Eron J., 20; Sept. 1, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Petteys, Charles V., 18; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; Corp.,
Jan. 18, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A., and finally
M. O. as 2d Lieut.
Petteys, Freeman D., 21; Aug. 21, '62, Junius; Sept. 8; Corp.,
April 27, '64; Sergt., Dec. 20, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Petteys, Lucius, 18; Jan. 5, '64, Galen; Jan. 5; d. May 11, '65,
Philadelphia.
Petteys, Martin D., 44; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 15, '65, Washington.
Pidge, George H., 34; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt.;
promoted 1st Lieut.
Pimm, Enos T., 30; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year; Artif
icer, Feb. 24, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Pitcher, George A., 18; Aug. 31, '64, Rose; Sept. 7, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Potts, Clark, 43; Sept. 3, '64, Galen; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65; Vet. Co. K, 98th N. Y. Vols.
Poutrv, Dallas, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Cicero; Jan. 4; trans. June 27,
'6*5, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Poutry, Dennis, 42; Jan. 4, '64, Cicero; Jan. 4; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Powers, Edwin, 43 ; Dec 9, '63, Hannibal ; Dec. 29 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Powers, Lendell P., 33; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. May
19 '65.
Race, James, 21; Aug. 27, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., Oct. 12, '63;
dis. May 6, '64.
Race, John, 19; Aug. 10, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted Feb. 15,
'63, Fort Mansfield.
Randall, Norton S., 28; Dec. 22, '63, Hannibal; Dec. 29; d.
July 11, '64, from wounds received at Monocacy.
Ready, Alexander, 44; Aug. 22, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; dis. March
9 '63
Reno,' George, 37; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; Sept. 2, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Rich, John, 18; Aug. 6, '63, Lyons; Aug. 6; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Richardson, Loren S., 18; Dec. 25, '63, New Haven; Dec. 25;
deserted July 21, '64.
35

546 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Ringer, Myron, 21; Feb. 5, '64, Galen; Feb. 5; dis. Dec 19, '64.
Robbins, Alexander, 22; Aug. 11, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; Artif
icer, March 22, '63 ; M. O., July 6, '65.
Robbins, Sanford, 29; Dec 21, '63, Savannah; Dec. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Robinson, John, 27; Jan. 12, '64, Salina; Jan. 12; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rowe, Philip H., 22; Dec. 5, '63, Williamson; Dec. 6; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sabin, George G., 25; Sept. 8, '64, Sodus; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65 ; Vet. Co. D, 6th Ohio Vols.
Sager, Jacob, 30; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Musician; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Schoonmaker, John, 22; Jan. 11, '64, Galen; Jan. 11; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Seccomb, Philo C, 36; Aug. 26, '64, Owasco; 1 year; d. Nov. 25,
'64, Winchester, Va.
Seelye, Alfred, 18; Aug. 31, '64, Rose; Sept. 2, 1 year; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Seelye, Irwin R., 19; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Seelye, J. Judson, 25; Aug. 22, '62, Rose; Sept. 8, Corp.; dis.
Musician, June 12, '65.
Shattuck, Allen, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Scriba; Jan. 4; dis. May 23, '65.
Sherman, Charles, 25; Sept. 5, '64, Rose; Sept. 5; no M. O.
Sifer, John, 27; Sept. 10, '64, Albany; Sept. 10; M. O., July
6, '65.
Sloan, Alfred J., 22; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; 1 year; M. 0., July
6, '65.
Smith, Allen, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted Feb.
17, "'64.
Smith, James, 23; Aug. 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; M. O., July 6, '65.
Smith, John G., 18; Sept. 2, '64, Galen; Sept. 2; no M. O.
Smith, Lewis B., 26; Dec. 9, '63, New York; Dec. 14; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Nehemiah G., 44; Aug. 30, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis.
Sept. 9, '63.
Smith, Sabin, 44; Jan. 4, '64. Syracuse; Jan. 4; dis. June 20,
'65.
Smith, Sheldon, 27; Dec. 30, '63, Marcellus; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Snedaker, Lyman T.. 43; Sept. 3, '64, Galen; Sept. 3; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Soule, Ira, 43; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; M. O. as Musician
July 6, '65.
Soule, Ira T., 18; Aug. 21, '62, Rose; Sept. 8, Musician; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Spurling, William; no record, save trans, to 2d N. Y. H. A.,
where he was put down "deserted."

COMPANY H. 547
Stead, Joseph, 27; Aug. 23, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb. 25,
'64j d. Sept. 22, '64, from wounds received Sept. 19 at Win
chester.
Stead, Thomas,, 21; Aug. 16, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Stewart, Samuel, 42; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Stickles, David H., 23; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted
Feb. 15, '63.
Stickles, Robert, 26; Aug. 15, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., April
2, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sumpter, George, 21; May 5, '63, Galen; May 5; deserted July
14, '63.
Taylor, Hiram, 26; Aug. 30, '62, Wolcott; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Thornton, Erastus, 44; Aug. 2, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans. Jan.
22, '64, V. R. C.
Tindall, Philip, 26; Aug. 22, '62, Rose; Sept. 8; Corp., Nov. 10,
'63; Sergt, Feb. 23, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Toepper, John G., 28; Dec. 18, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 18; dis. May
31, '65.
Toles, Eben W., 26; Sept. 5, '64, Rose; Sept. 5, 1 year; dis.
May 25, '65.
Tompkins, Henry, 23; Aug. 30, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; dis. March
12, '63, hospital.
Torry, Addison, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Cicero; Dec. 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Torry, Jerome, 28; Jan. 4, '64, Cicero; Jan. 4; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; d. Oct. 23, '64, hospital, Annapolis, Md.
Turner, Edward, 22; Aug. 23, '62, Galen; Corp., Feb. 11, '64;
Sergt, March 9, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Turpenning, Maynard, 30; Jan. 4, '64, Cicero; Jan. 4; wd. Cold
Harbor; dis. May 30, '65, York, Penn.
Underhill, Jason, 21; Sept. 23, Rochester; Sept. 23, 1 year; wd.
April 2, '65, Petersburg ; dis. June 16, '65, Washington.
Van Alstine, Jacob, 42; Jan. 8, '64, Salina; Jan. 8; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Van Buren, Albert, 22; Jan. 4, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Vanderburg, John W., 21; Dec 11, '63, Rose; Dec. 11; dis. Mar.
5, '65, hospital.
Vanderpool, Isaac, 21; Aug. 12, '62, Victory; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Oct. 18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Van Woert, James L., 27; Aug. 25, '62, Rose; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Jan. 27, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Veeley, Aaron, 18; March 25, '63, Galen; March 25; wd. Sept.
19, '64; trans. May 14, '64, V. R. 0.
Vermilyea, A. J., 30; Sept. 17, '64, Lyons; Sept. 17, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.

548 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Vosburg, John J., 21; Aug. 14, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted
Dec. 15, '62.
Wadley, Martin, 32; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. May 29,
'65.
Wager, Eacher, 18; Aug. 15, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; deserted Dec.
1, '62.
Waite, Stephen M., 39; Sept. 3, '64, Rose; Sept. 5, 1 year; dis.
May 18, '65, Philadelphia.
Waldo, James, 21; Sept. 8, '64, Albany; Sept. 8, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Waldron, William P., 25; Sept. 1, '63, Galen; Sept. 1; deserted
June 14, '64.
Wares, Charles, 40; Aug. 15, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Warner, Charles, 18; Dec. 30, '63, Cicero; Dec. 30; d. July 23,
'64, from wounds received July 9 at Monocacy.
Warren, Charles M., 25; Aug. 21, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Warren, Isaac M., 34; Aug. 31, '64, Macedon; 1 year; M. 0..
July 6, '65.
Weaver, Jonathan C, 28; Aug. 26, '62, Auburn; Sept 8; k. July
9, '64, Monocacy, Md.
West, Elbridge G., 31; Sept. 12, '64, Winchester, Va.; Sept. 13,
1 year; M. O., July 6, '65.
Whittlesey, Charles, 18; Dec. 19, '63, Galen; Dec. 28; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wiley, George, 19; Aug. 22, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., April
22, '64; Sergt., Dec. 30, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Wilkins, William, 20; Dec. 30, '63, Pompey; Dec. 30; k. July
9, '64, Monocacy.
Williams, Jacob N., 41; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Winslow, Samuel, 38; Sept. 5, '64, Seneca Falls; Sept. 5, 1 year;
M. 0., July 6, '65.
Worden, Nelson, 40; Sept. 7, '64, Malone; Sept. 7, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Wormuth, Daniel, 21; Aug. 10, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; dis.
June 15, '65, Washington.
Wormuth, David, 27; Dec. 19, '63, Savannah; Dec. 28; dis. June
15, '65, Washington.
Wright, George L., 22; Jan. 2, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; d. Dec. 26,
'64, City Point, Va.
Wright, Martin, 24; Jan. 4, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; dis. May 18, '65.
Norfolk.
Wright, Philander, 33; Aug. 22, '62, Savannah; Sept. 8; wd.
July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. May 30, '65.
Young, Edmund, 18; Aug. 20, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb.
23, '64; Sergt, Oct. 30, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Young, Henry, 26; Aug. 14, '62, Galen; -Sept. 8; deserted Nov.
26, '62.

CAPTAIN HUGH HUGHES.
Company 1.

COMPANY I. 549
COMPANY I.
More than any other one, "I" would be known as the Auburn
company. Upon the muster-in roll may be found two or three
names from Sennett, eleven from Owasco, and the remainder
are from the city. Captain Hughes gave the ball a start, and
Lieutenants Howard and Freeoff helped it along.
The earliest enlistment recorded is that of Clarence Horton,
July 10th, followed on the 11th by that 'of William Cook, both
of Auburn. A few more were enrolled in July, but the majority
came in August, a very few coming in after the beginning of
September. CAPTAINS.
Hugh Hughes, 44; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 25 ; dis. Nov. 12, '64.
Philip R. Freeoff, from 1st Lieut., March 1, '65 ; rank from Nov.
14; dis. May 15, '65. FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Orson, Howard, 24; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 25; promoted Captain Co. E.
Lyman C. Comstock, from 2d Lieut. Co. C, Feb. 6, '64; dis. May
15, '65.
George R. Watson, 22; Oct. 22, '64, Auburn; Oct. 22; rank from
Sept. 28; trans. Co. D.
Philip R. Freeoff, from 2d Lieut., Dec. 15, '64; rank from Nov.
14; promoted Captain.
Samuel F. Harris, from 2d Lieut., Dec. 22, '64; rank from Nov.
12; M. O., July 6, '65.
Benjamin J. Yard, returns from Co. F, June 26, '65; M. O.,
July 6, '65. SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Philip R. Freeoff, 34; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 25; promoted 1st Lieut.
Horace B. Babcock, 23; April 23, '64, Washington; April 23;
promoted 1st Lieut, not mustered; dis. Dec. 21, '64; veteran;
had served an enlistment in Co. E, 75th N. Y. Vols.
Samuel F. Harris, from 1st Sergt, Nov. 30, '64; promoted 1st
Lieut.
Reuben Burton, from Sergt, Co. H, April 16, '64; trans, to Co.
B, May 30, '64.
John D. Robinson, from 1st Sergt., March 1, '65; rank from Feb.
3; trans, June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. as 1st Lieut.
David D. Becker, from private, Co. G, Feb. 18, '65; rank from
Nov. 12, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Benjamin J. Yard, from private, May 23, '64; rank from April
1, '64; promoted 1st Lieut. Co. F.

550 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
James A. Bowles, from Sergt., Co. H, Jan. 14, '65; rank from
Nov. 29, '64; promoted 1st Lieut., Feb. 18, '65, not mustered;
dis. March 29, '65.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abel, Martin, 19; Aug. 9, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Agen, Edward, 18; June 27, '63, Auburn; July 9; d. Jan. 28, '64,
Fort Simmons. *
Anthony, George, 21; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Anthony, Wilson, 21; Dec. 21, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Arlow, Robert, 23; Jan. 2, '64, Fort Simmons; Jan. 5; Sergt,
May 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. ; Vet. navy.
Babcock, Charles E., 21; Aug. 23, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans.
Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Backenstrass, John, 43; Aug. 19, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans.
Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Barber, James M., 38; Dec. 30, '63, Springport; Dec. 31; d. Aug.
9, '64, at home.
Beach, Andrus N., 23; Aug 7, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Blauvelt, James R., 18; Aug. 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Blauvelt, Peter P., 43; Dec 19, '63, Aurelius; Jan. 21, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Blodgett, Charles M., 19; Aug. 14, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Blowers, John L., 21; Dec. 23, '63, Ledyard; Dec. 30; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 27, '65, Elmira.
Bowen, Alonzo, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. June
24, '65.
Bresnihan, Daniel, 18; Jan. 15, '63, Auburn; July 9; dis. Dec.
20, '64, Washington.
Brightmire, John, 33; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Brown, John E., 21; Aug. 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 3,
63, Fort Reno.
Browning, John, 36; June 29, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. H, 35th N. Y. Vols.
Bulkley, Andrew J., 22; Aug. 9, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans.
Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Burch, John H, 26; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Burke, John, 30; Dec. 22, '63, Waterloo; Dec. 22; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carpenter, DeWitt C, 21; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY I. 551
Chapin, Philip W., 34; July 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; wd. March
25, '65, Petersburg; dis. May 11, '65, Philadelphia.
Clark, Orrin, 19; July 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Clark, William, 21; April 27, '63, Auburn; April 27; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clayton, Elihu, 40; Dec 28, '63, Ledyard; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Connor, James O., 30; May 6, '63, Auburn; June 4; wd. Cedar
Creek; trans, as Corp., Jan. 7, '65, V. R. C.
Cook, James, 22; Dec. 19, '63, Montgomery; Dec. 20; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cook, William, 18; July 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec. 2,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Coon, Oscar, 19; June 22, '63, Auburn; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Corcoran, Patrick, 24; Nov. 26, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; wd. March
25, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cowl, DeWitt P., 18; Aug. 3, '63, Syracuse; Aug. 3; trans. Feb.
19, '64, V. R. C; Vet. Co. L, 4th N. Y. A.
Crofoot, James H., 41; Dec 23, '63, Aurelius; Dec. 29; dis. June
' 30, '63, Washington.
Crowley ,Michael, 41; July 18, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Cullen, Patrick, 42; Dec. 21, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Curtis, James, 20; July 27, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Cuykendall, Martin, 21; Aug. 11, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8, Corp.;
1st Sergt., March 1, '65; wd. April 6, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Darrow, Edward, 34; July 27, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; deserted,
no date.
David, Lewis F., 21; Dec 18, '63, Montgomery; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dean, John E., 18; Aug. 8, '62, Milan; Sept. 8; trans. Dec. 15,
'64, field and staff, Sergt. Major.
Dean, Norman, 26; Aug. 30, '64, Covert; Aug. 31, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65. .
Deyo, Charles G., 23; Dec 24, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dongas, Edward, 31; June 30, '63, Auburn; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Doran, Michael, 18; Nov. 13, '63, Auburn; Nov. 19; trans. June
27. '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Doyle, James, 20; Aug. 29, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Doyle, John, 24; Dec. 25, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dwyer, Patrick, 32; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

552 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Edwards, John A., 18; Aug. 15, '64, Schenectady; Aug. 15;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Elson, Henry, 18; Jan. 2, '64, Skaneateles; Jan. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ennis, Thomas, 40; Sept. 3, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Etts, Egbert M., 27; Dec 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Etts, William H., 33; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Farrell, Lock, 44; Aug. 16, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Mar. 13,
'63.
Fend, John, 18; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Ferguson, John T., 40; Jan. 4, '64, Springport; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fiero, George, 21; Dec. 15, '63, Moravia; Dec 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Finlan, William, 25; July 22, '63, Auburn; Aug. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. D, 3d N, Y. A.
Flanagan, John, 21; Dec. 23, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Flannery, Cornelius, 33; Aug. 19, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
M. 0., July 6, '65.
Flannery, Jerry, 26; Aug. 8, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; deserted
April 24, '63.
Fosmire, Charles, 18; Nov. 24, '63, Galen; Dec. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fowler, Walter, 23; Dec. 28, '63, Scipio; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
French, George, 21; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Frye, Moses M., 21; July 27, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 26,
'64, for promotion in U. S. C. T.
Galli van, Mortimer, 24; Aug. 30, '64, Niles; Sept. 11, 1 year;
dis. June 28, '65.
Gallivan, Patrick, 18; Aug. 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Garey, Charles W., 38; Jan. 4, '64, Geneva; Jan. 4; dis. July 1.
'65, Washington.
Garvev, James, 38; Dec. 22, '63, Auburn; Dec. 26; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gerrish, John C, 40; Aug. 3, '63, Auburn; Aug. 25; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. E, 3d N. Y. A.
Godden, Stephen F., 36; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Graham, James, 21; June 23, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gregor, Cyrus A., 18; June 19, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY I.
2nd Lieut. J. D. Robinson. Capt. P. R. Freeoff. 1st Lieut. B. J. Yard.
1st Lieut. H. B. Babcock. Sergt. Major John E. Dean. J. R. Northcott.
Horace Osborn (F). *Porter V. Palmer. H. E. Perkins and Alonzo Bowen.

*Paimer'e death was the first in the regiment, Sept. 19, 1862. In his picture he masquerades in a lieutenant's coat.

COMPANY I. 553
Haley, Andrew, 25; Dec. 21, '63, Auburn; Jan. 21, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hall, Charles, 18; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Sergt., Jan. 9,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hall, Charles, 18; Aug. 3, '63, Syracuse; Aug. 3; no M. O.
Harris, Samuel F., 25; Aug. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Sept. 17, '63; 1st Sergt., Jan. 19, '64; promoted 2d
Lieut.
Harris, William H., 18; June 30, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Harris, William W., 32; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.;
trans. Feb. 19, '64, V. R. C.
Harwood, Charles, 23; Nov. 27, '63, Galen; Dec. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hausman, Augustus, 37; June 17, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hawkins, Edwin E., 22; July 21, '63, Auburn; Aug. 31; dis. July
1, '65, Washington.
Hibbard, Henry, 26; June 15, '63, Auburn; June 15; no M. O.;
Vet. Co. G, 27th N. Y. Infantry.
Hickey, John, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Jan. 9,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hixon, Charles, 44; July 3, '63, Syracuse; July 9; dis. March 17,
'64, Fort Simmons.
Hodder, Nathaniel, 18; Dec. 12, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hogan, Martin, 18; Aug. 22, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; absent, sick
from Nov. 1, '64.
Horton, Clarence L., 21; Aug. 10, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Howard, Michael, 40; Aug. 17, '63, Auburn; Aug. 31; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hoye, John, 45; March 3, '63, Auburn; March 5; prisoner May
23, '64, Bowling Green, Va. ; d. Aug. 23, '64, Andersonville.
Huestis, Henry M., 24; Sept. 29, '63, Auburn; Nov. 5; dis. Sept.
6, '64, Parole Camp, Annapolis, Md.
Hyatt, Francis E., 19; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; date of
M. O. not given.
Hyde, James, 21; Jan. 4, '64, Harford; Jan. 4; trans. Jan. 19,
'65, V. R. C.
Ireland, John, 16; July 30, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Musician;
M. O., July 6, '65.
James, Petters, 21; July 2, '63, Syracuse; July 9; deserted, no
date.
Jewhurst, Joseph W., 24; Aug. 9, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
promoted 1st Lieut. Co. L.
Jones, John L., 1st, 18; May 27, '63, Auburn; June 19; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Jones, John L., 2d, 21; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

554 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Karr, Augustus B., 18; April 2, '63, Wolcott; May 6; d. Feb. 18,
'64, at home.
Keenan, Thomas, 18; Dec. 18, '63, Aurelius; Dec. 26; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kemp, Edward, 22; Dec. 19, '63, Montezuma; Jan. 19; d. Jan.
27, '64, Fort Simmons.
Lathrop, Jared R., 45; Dec. 21, '63, Lysander; Dec. 23; M. 0.,
June 26, '65, Philadelphia.
Lawler, Edward, 35; July 24, '63, Syracuse; Aug. 5; d. Aug. 10,
'63, Fort Simmons, from sunstroke.
Leddy, Michael, 18; Aug. 23, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Leo, Daniel, 23; Dec. 28, '63, Auburn; Dec. 29; deserted; not
lion-hearted, in spite of his name.
Low, Alvah, 44; Aug. 12, '62, Sennett; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Lynch, John, 23; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Lynch, Morris, 21; Aug. 25, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. 0., July
6, '65.
Lynch, Thomas, 21; July 28, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Wagoner;
M. O., July 6, '65.
McGrain, Lawrence, 20; Aug. 1, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt, Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
McGrain, Patrick, 19; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
McGuire, John, 25; Jan. 6, '64, Auburn; Jan. 15; wd. April 2,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mclntyre, Joseph, 29; Feb. 9, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 9; no M. 0.
McLaughlin, Patrick, 39; Aug. 9, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. June
5, '64, at Cold Harbor from exhaustion.
McMillan, Edward, 28; Dec. 29, '63, Auburn; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McNamara, Cornelius, 26; Dec. 28, '63, Auburn; Dec. 29; wd.
April 2, '64; dis. Oct. 13, '65, Albany.
Manley, Thomas, 26; Jan. 5, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Menzie, James R., 44; Dec. 22. '63, Springport; Dec. 20; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Merry, Libbeus H., 24; Dec. 22, '63, Taylor; Dec. 22; dis. June
5, '65, Washington.
Miles, Daniel L., 21; Aug. 1, '63, Auburn; Aug. 25; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Miles, Enoch, 24; Aug. 1, '63, Auburn; Aug. 25; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. I, 3d N. Y. A.
Miles, Thomas, 37; Feb. 25, '64, Springport; Feb. 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Miller, Hiram H., 25; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; no M. O.
Milliman, James, 44; Dec. 28, '63, Springport; Dec. 28; dis. June
6, '65, Frederick, Md.

COMPANY I. 555
Monroe, Willard F., 20; Oct. 31, '63, Auburn; Nov. 19; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Moreau, Felix, 22; June 12, '63, Syracuse; July 9; deserted,
no date; unhappy Felix.
Morgan, Charles A., 37; Dec. 21, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Morgan, Jedediah S., 44; Aug. 29, '62, Auburn; Sept. 6; de
serted, no date.
Mornan, Daniel, 42; July 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans. June
22, '64, V. R. C.
Mudge, Nelson, 21; July 27, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; trans. Feb.
19, '64, V. R. C.
Murphy, James, 18; Aug. 23, '64, Auburn; Aug. 23, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Murphy, Michael, 21; Aug. 3, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec
9, '64 ;M. O., July 6, '65.
Murray, Joseph, 36; Aug. 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; wd. April 2,
'64, Petersburg; dis. May 31, '65.
Nagell, Henry J., 27; Aug. 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Negus, John J., 22; June 22, '63, Auburn; July 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nichalson, Oswald, 44; Dec. 21, '63, Auburn; Dec. 31; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nims, Morrison, 22; Aug. 15, '64, Schenectady; Aug. 15; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Northcott, Joseph R., 21; July 15, '63, Auburn; Aug. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nugent, John, 1st, 44; Dec. 24, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; dis.
Aug. 1, '65, Elmira.
Nugent, John, 2d, 18; Aug. 9, '64, Conquest; Aug. 9, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Oakley, Lester, 21; July 21, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
O'Bryne, John, 32; Dec. 26, '63, Owasco; Dec. 28; deserted, no
date.
O'Connor, Callahan, 38; Dec. 20, '63, Auburn; Dec 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Flaherty, Edward, 18; Aug. 18, '63, Auburn; Aug. 25; Corp.,
Dec. 24, '64; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek, and April 2, '65,
Petersburg; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; was Sergt.
at M. O.
Oliver, Nathan C, 24; July 27, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Sergt;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Oliver, Orlando, 32; Dec. 22, '63, Taylor; Dec. 22; dis. May 9,
'65, Washington; Vet. Co. A, 76th N. Y. Vols.
O'Tool, Patrick, 28; Aug. 15, '62, Auburn; trans. Feb. 19, '64,
V. R. C.
Palmer, Porter V., 19; July 29, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Sept.
19, '62, Washington; the first death in the regiment.

556 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Parker, Joseph, 25; Sept. 3, '64, Albany; Sept. 3, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Parker, Marion, 29; July 29, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Aug. 2,
'64, Washington.
Patterson, Samuel, 29; July 21, '63, Auburn; Aug. 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Perkins, Henry E., 19; March 27, '63, Auburn; May 6; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Phelan, John, 29; May 20, '63, Galen; June 9; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Piatt, Giles C, 33; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Powell, Francis H, 18; June 19, '63, Auburn; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Powers, Edward, 21; Dec. 22, Springport; Dec 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Reid, David P., 25; Aug. 12, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8, Musician;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Reish, John, 44; July 24, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.; dis. July
8, '63, Fort Simmons.
Renahan, James, 19 ; Feb. 10, '64, Auburn ; Feb. 10 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Renahan, Michael, 44; Aug. %1, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. March
28, '63, Fort Simmons.
Reynolds, John, 40; Feb. 11, '63, Auburn; Feb. 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ribey, John, 32; Aug. 9, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; d. Nov. 11, '64,
of wounds received at Cedar Creek.
Robinson, John D., 21; Aug. 6, '62, Sennett; Sept. 8, Corp.; 1st
Sergt., Dec. 16, '64 ; promoted 2d Lieut.
Ronald, John, 40; Aug. 5, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. March 11,
'64, Fort Simmons.
Rumrill, Charles, 21; Dec. 22, '63, Springport^ Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ryan, John, 32 ; Dec 26, '63, Owasco ; Dec. 26 ; deserted, no date.
Ryan, Thomas, 18; Dec. 31, '63, Auburn; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ryan, William, 1st, 29; July 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Ryan, William, 2d, 28; Sept. 1, '64, Auburn; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Sayers, Bennett, 23; April 6, '63, Auburn; June 4; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Sheldon, Jacob N., 38; Sept. 6, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. June
28, '65.
Shelinburg, Peter, 25; Aug. 12, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. July 14, '65.
Sheppard, David, 44; Dec. 22, '63, Springfield; Dec 30; no M. O.
Sholes, William, 43; Dec. 23, '63, Auburn; Dec. 30; no M. O.

COMPANY I. 557
Simmons, George, 42; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sinclair, Frank A., 28; Sept. 4, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
promoted Captain Co. L.
Sinclair, William W., 18; Aug. 1, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; pro
moted 2d Lieut. Co. L.
Smith, James, 31; Dec. 21, '63, Ledyard; Dec. 21, Artificer;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Johnson, 22; Aug. 23, '64, Springport; Aug. 24, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Smith, Joseph R., 44; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; d. Nov.
1, '64, from wounds received at Cedar Creek.
Smith, Martin, 21; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Smith, Polhemus, 24; Dec. 21, '63, Ledyard; Dec. 21; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Steinmetz, Aaron R., 30; June 17, '63, Syracuse; Aug. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Stickles, Gilbert L., 21; July 9, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sullivan, Michael, 19; Nov. 11, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Swart, James H., 18; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec
24, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Sykes, William, 20; May 23, '63, Auburn; June 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Thompson, Edwin, 21; Aug. 9, '64, Conquest; Aug. 9; no M. O.
Thompson, Loren, 21; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Thompson, Oscar, 29; Jan. 31, '64, Springport; Jan. 31; wd. Apr.
2, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Thompson, Oscar B., 27; Dec. 24, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; no
M. O.
Thompson, Sarel, 44; Dec. 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; no M. O.
Thomson, Orsemus, 21; Dec. 28, '63, Springport; dis. Jan. 17,
'66, Elmira; the very last to be mustered out.
Thorn, Alexander, 44; June 29, '63, Syracuse; July 9; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Thurlow, James, 21; Aug. 23, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp., Mar.
1, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Tompkins, Thomas, 31; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Dec. 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Truss, Hiram, 45; Jan. 4, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Turner, Charles M., 23; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
20, '63, Fort Reno.
Ulrich, Adolph, 22; June 2, '63, Syracuse; July 19; deserted, no
date.
Van Guilder, Charles, 28; Aug. 14, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.

558 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Van Middles worth, Isaac, 21; Dec. 19, '63, Owasco; Dec. 28;
wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 3, '64, Philadelphia.
Waldron, Aaron, 19; Dec. 22, '63, Skaneateles; Dec. 22; dis. May
26, '65, Washington.
Waldron, Augustine, 23; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Waldron, Ephraim, 29; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. Feb.
23, '63.
Waldron, Sylvester, 26; Aug. 11, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Wallace, Joseph J., 27; Aug. 11, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8, Artificer;
wd. April 2, '65, Petersburg; d. April 3 of wounds.
Wallace, Martin, 18; Nov. 27, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wallace, Thomas, 18; Aug. 1, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; d. Oct. 17,
'63, Fort Simmons.
Wallace, William J., 25; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8, Corp.;
Sergt., Dec. 24, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Welch, Clarence, 18; June 9, '63, Auburn; June 9; prisoner
Sept., '64, Shenandoah Valley; dis. May 22, '65, Annapolis.
Wendover, John V., 44; Dec. 28, '63, Auburn; Dec 29; wd.
twice Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; had leg crushed by fall of
barracks, July, '65, Washington; trans. June 27, '65, 2d
N. Y. H. A.
Williams, Gordon, 26; June 29, '63, Syracuse; July 9; deserted,
no date.
Williamson, William, 34; Aug. 9, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8, Corp.;
d. Dec. 9, '64, Auburn.
Willis, Wesley, 18; Aug. 24, '62, Fleming; Sept. 8; dis. Feb. 23,
'63, Fort Simmons.
Winegar, Lewis, 21; Dec 22, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Winters, Joseph, 31; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Worden, Charles, 26; Aug. 12, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; Sergt.,
Jan. 9, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Yard, Benjamin J., 44; Dec. 30, '63, Springport; Dec. 30; pro
moted 2d Lieut.; had served in Co. K, 3d N. Y. A.
Xawger, William B.; Dec. 21, Springport; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Young, Edwin, 39; Aug. 26, '64, Owasco; Aug. 26, 1 year; no
M. O.
Young, Henry H., 20; Aug. 6, '62, Owasco; Sept. 8; d. Feb. 6,
'64, Georgetown, D. C.
COMPANY K.
Company K was composite. Perhaps the best account of its
beginning is found in the sketch of Captain Squyer's life {vide
page 440, but it is quite in place here to state that the last

COMPANY K.

1st Lieut. Geo. W. Swift. 1st Lieut. Philip Sturge.
Capt. Dennis Flynn.
John Colligan. W. G. Duckett, Hosp. Steward 2nd Bat.

COMPANY K. 559
company of the original ten had men from both Cayuga and
Wayne, though the mass of them were from the towns of Ira
and Galen.
Ira came with the captain and Galen with 1st Lieutenant
Dennis Flynn. There may have been half a dozen men from
western Wayne, but Clyde gave the great part of the county's
showing. The village thought a deal of the young lieutenant,
and gave him a sword and equipments when he went away.
The rallying of Ira around Captain Squyer was a pleasant sight,
and the popularity of these officers never waned. The second
lieutenancy fell to George P. Knapp, also of Cayuga.
CAPTAINS.
Irvin Squyer, 32; Aug. 23, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; rank from Aug. 27;
wd. June 1 and 7, '64, Cold Harbor; promoted Major.
Dennis E. Flynn, from 1st Lieut., Oct. 15, '64; rank from Sept.
15; M. O., July 6, '65. FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Dennis E. Flynn, 30; Aug. 23, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 27; promoted Captain.
George P. Knapp, 19; from 2d Lieut., March 17, '64; dis. March
28, '65.
Philip Sturge, from 2d Lieut, Nov. 19, '64; rank from Sept. 12;
resigned, Feb. 2, '65, on account of wounds received at
Cedar Creek while acting Adjutant.
Lendell H. Bigelow, from Sergt., Co. F, March 18 '65; wd. April
2, '65; rank from March 10; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H.
A. ; M. O. as Captain.
George W. Swift, from 2d Lieut., March 1, '65; rank from Feb.
3, '65; trans, to Co. F March 4, '65.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
George P. Knapp, 19; Aug. 23, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; rank from
Aug. 27; promoted 1st Lieut.
Stephen V. R, Cale, from Sergt., Feb. 17, '64; resigned May 6,
'64; also in second enlistment commissioned Dec. 10, '64;
d. of wounds April 16, '65.
Philip Sturge, trans, from Co. G as 2d Lieut., May 17, '64; pro
moted 1st Lieut
George E. Clow, from Sergt., Co. F, Feb. 20, '65; rank from
Jan. 20; M. O., July 6, '65.
George W. Swift, from Sergt., Co. F, March 1, '65; rank from
Feb. 4, '65; promoted 1st Lieut.
Oscar A. Foote, from Sergt., Feb. 3, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abbott, Hiram O., 28; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 29, 1 year; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

560 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Abbott, Orrin, 23; Dec. 14, '63, New Haven; dis. July 26, '65,
Rochester.
Abram s, Andrew J., 31; Aug. 20, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Corp.; lost
leg, June 22, '64, before Petersburg; dis. Feb. 25, '65.
Albright, Levi, 27; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; dis. May 15, '65,
Baltimore.
Allen, Eli, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; wd. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Allen, James, 44; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. Aug. 4, '63,
Fort Mansfield, from accidental gunshot wound in the head
July 27.
Allen, William M., 38; Aug. 26, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; wd. June,
'64, Cold Harbor; dis. May 13, '65.
Austin, Benjamin, 22; Jan. 4, '64, Cuyler; Jan. 4; wd. and pris
oner Dec. 31, '64, Petersburg; dis. June 27, '65; Vet. Co. H,
23d N. Y. Vols.
Autenbury, George, 44; July 13, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Baldwin, Anson, 19; Sept. 1, '64, Ira; Sept. 1, 1 year; prisoner
Dec. 31, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Baldwin, John T., 18; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 30, 1 year; d. Nov.
28, '64, Baltimore.
Baldwin, Samuel, 45; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 30, 1 year; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Baldwin, William H., 25; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 29, 1 year;
wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. Sept. 6, '65.
Ball, Henry, 21; July 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Barns, Stephen, 24; Feb. 9, '63, Galen; Feb. 9; wd. Cold Har
bor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Barrett, Thomas, 40; Feb. 11, '63, Galen; Feb. 11; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Beers, George, 22; Nov. 11, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12; deserted
April 9, '64.
Benjamin, David, 22; July 18, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; dis. March
21, '63.
Benton, Frank L., 20; Sept. 13, '64, East Bloomfield; Sept. 13,
1 year; dis. June 15, '65.
Betts, Riel P., 18; Dec. 14, '63, Savannah; Dec 29; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Bivins, James, 25; Aug. 18, '62, Galen, in Co. H; Sept. 8, Corp.:
trans, to K Dec. 18, '62; trans, field and staff, chief bugler.
Black, Cortez, 27; Jan. 4, '64, Clay; Jan. 4; deserted Oct. 18, '64;
a black deed.
Black, Oscar D., 30; Dec. 31, 63, Syracuse; Dec. 31; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Blake, Charles R., 24; Aug. 31, '64, Macedon; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Blake, Lewis M., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; d. Aug. 12, '63,
Fort Gaines.

COMPANY K. 561
Blake, William, 24; Jan. 21 '64, Eaton; Jan. 21; trans, to 16th
Regt, V. R. C.
Boudiette, Joseph, 33; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Dec. 26; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bovee, William H, 23; July 28, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; wd. acci
dentally at Fort Bunker Hill; M. O., July 6, '65; also borne
as Dudley W. Boyce.
Bowman, Edward, 18; Jan. 2, '64, Galen; Jan. 2; wd. June, '64,
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bowman, Walter, 18; Jan. 2, '64, Galen; Jan. 2; wd. Sept. 19,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Boyce, Peter, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Galen; Dec 29; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bracey, Hiram, 24; Dec. 22, '63, New Haven; Dec. 22; prisoner
Dec 31, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bradley, William, 40; Aug. 26, '62, Auburn; Sept. 8; dis. May
12, '64.
Brewer, Thomas, 36; Feb. 6, '63, Galen; Feb. 6; dis. Apr. 16, '63.
Briggs, Philip, 21; Oct. 31, '63, Auburn; Nov. 24; Corp., Feb.
26, '64; Sergt., Aug. 29, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.; M. O. finally as 2d Lieut.; Vet. Co. I, 3d N. Y. A.
Brown, George, 44; Feb. 11, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 11; no M. O.
Burdick, Ira W., 27; Dec. 23, '63, Spafford; Dec. 23; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. D, 76th N. Y. Vols.
Burke, Thomas, 21; Dec. 7, '63, Savannah; Dec. 7; Corp., Dec.
18, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Burns, John, 21; June 29, Galen; June 29; deserted July 27, '64.
Burton, Alexander, 32; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Button, William, 44; Jan. 1, '63, Auburn; Jan. 1; murdered near
Aqueduct Bridge, Georgetown, Dec. 19, '63.
Byron, Annis, 34; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Dec. 26; prisoner Dec.
31, '64; drowned April 24, '65, steamer Black Diamond.*

"Nothing in the preparation of this book has occasioned more search
ing than this Black Diamond incident. The solution is had in the fol
lowing despatch to a Baltimore paper of April 26th :
Portress Monroe, April 25, 1865.
Yesterday morning at half-past twelve, the ship Massachusetts,
carrying convalescents and paroled prisoners, collided with the small
barge propeller, Black Diamond, used as a picket boat, at anchor about
half a mile from Blackistone Island. The bows of the Massachusetts
were badly stove in, and her people, panic-stricken, seized planks, etc.,
and sprang into the water. The Black Diamond sank in less than three
minutes. Capt. J. M. Holmes of the Veteran Reserve was in command
of the men. He thought fifty men lost their lives.
This island is a lighthouse station, east side of the Potomac, several
miles above its mouth. Had the men remained on board the Massa
chusetts, none of them would have been harmed; but there is no rule
against panics. The death list included Byron, Gardner and Harrington
from this company.
36

562 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Caggy, Pierce, 22; Nov. 30, '63, Syracuse, in Co. L; Nov. 30;
trans. Feb. 6, '64, to Co. K; Corp., May 1, '65; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Cain, Thomas, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.; prisoner
Dec 31, '64, Weldon R. R.; dis. June 21, '65, Annapolis.
Cale, Stephen V. R., 44; Aug. 26, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut. Having resigned May 6, '64, he appears
to have enlisted again from Camillus, Sept. 3, '64, for one
year, and is recorded as dying of wounds April 16, '65.
Carpenter, George W., 18; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Carris, Lewis, 23; Aug. 19, '64, Sterling; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Carter, John, 26; July 13, '62, Galen; Sept. 8, Corp.; deserted
Feb. 14, '64.
Chase, John, 44; no descriptive list; dis. June 19, '65, Wash
ington.
Church, Warner, 44; July 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; wd. July 9,
'64, Monocacy; dis. Aug. 7, '65.
Clark, Charles M., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; d. July 23, '64,
from wounds received July 9 at Monocacy.
Clark, Zachariah, 18; Dec. 31, '63, Palermo; Dec. 31; d. Aug. 22,
'64, hospital.
Cole, Jeremiah, 43; Jan. 13, '64, Eaton; Jan. 13; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Coleman, Albert, 18; Mar. 4, '63, Galen; Mar. 4; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Coller, Cornelius, 44; May 4, '63, Ira; May 4; dis. Feb. 7, '65, on
account of wounds.
Colligan, John, 22; Sept. 12, '64, Macedon; Sept. 12, 1 year;
Corp., Dec. 18, '64; prisoner before Petersburg, Dec. 31, '64;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Conover, John, 21; Aug. 28, '64, Ira; Aug. 29, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Coon, William H. H, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Elbridge; Dec. 21; wd.
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cooper, Barringer, 38; Sept. 3, '64, Galen; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Cooper, Stephen, 15; April 4, '63, Galen; April 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; the same name occurs as enlisting
July 30, '62, but was rejected.
Corbin, Nathaniel L., 33; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., April
26, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Cormick, John, 42; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; drowned Sept. 5, '62,
Clyde.
Couch, Henry, 26; Dec. 29, '63, Cuyler; Dec. 29; k. June 1, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Crock, Edward, 44; Jan. 1, '64, Mexico; Jan. 1; dis. June 6, '65,
Frederick, Md.

COMPANY K. 563
Crowell, Daniel, 27; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., March
6, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Culver, Alpha V., 21; Dec. 19, '63, Cuyler; Dec 19; d. March 9,
'64, Fort Mansfield.
Cunningham, Thomas, 28; Oct. 8, '63, Palmyra; Nov. 16; Corp.,
May 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Curran, Patrick, 27; Dec. 16, '63, Seneca Falls; Dec. 16; dis.
June 19, '65, Washington.
Davis, Caleb, 31; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 5, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Dean, Robert, 44; Dec. 17, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; dis. Feb. 24, '65.
Degolyer, Edward, 30; Aug. 24, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. Jan. 6,
'64, Fort Mansfield.
DeGraff, John P., 39; Aug. 31, '64, Ira; Aug. 31, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Deroser, Alexander, 28; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Dec. 26; k. July
9, '64, Monocacy.
Derosier, Charles, 30; Jan. 16, '64, Lebanon; Jan. 16; wd. Cold
Harbor; dis. June 22, '65.
Derosier, Francis A., 33; Jan. 16, '64, Lebanon; Jan. 16; no
M. O.
Dibble, Ira, Jr., 45; Aug. 30, '64, Moravia; Aug. 30, 1 year; dis.
July 2, '65, Fairfax Seminary.
Dipley, Charles, 19; Dec. 4, '63, in Co. L; Dec. 4; trans, to Co. K
Feb. 26, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dockendorf, Matherson, 26; Sept. 12, '64, Schenectady; Sept. 12,
1 year ; dis. July 24, '65, York, Penn.
Donohue, James, 26; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. Sept. 16,
'62, Galen.
Donovan, James, 21; Dec. 2, '63, Galen, in Co. L; Dec. 2; trans.
to Co. K Feb. 6, '64; dis. May 27, '65.
Downs, Michael, 26; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. March 2,
'65, Annapolis, Md.; also carried as k. at Monocacy July
9, '64.
Doyle, Michael, 39; Sept. 25, '63, Galen; Nov. 25; trans. June
27, '65. 2d N. Y. H. A.
Driscoll, David H., 25; Aug. 18, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; wd. Cold Har
bor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Driskell, Daniel, 38; Jan. 4, '64, Oswego; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dubovs, Dudley. 32; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; wd. Cold
Harbor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Duckett, Benjamin E., 22; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Duckett, Walter G., 21; Aug. 22, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; promoted
field and staff, hospital steward; prisoner at Monocacy and
escaped; dis. Aug. 10, '64.
Dupros, Edmund; 18; Dec. 29, '63, Oswego; Dec 29; d. June 4,
'64, White House Landing, from wounds received at Cold
Harbor.

564 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Dwyer, Peter, 18; March 25, '63, Galen; March 25; dis. May
6, '63.
Ebert, Joseph, 19; Jan. 2, '64, Oswego; Jan. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Eddy, Henry D., 41; Nov. 14, '63, Syracuse, in Co. L; Dec. 7;
trans. Feb. 6, '64, to Co. K; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.
Failing, John F., 20; Aug. 16, '62, Lyons; Sept. 8; vid. field and
staff, hospital steward.
Fair weather, Thomas, 24; Oct. 26, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 5; Corp.,
Feb. 26, '64; prisoner July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fall, Giles, 18; Jan. 1, '64, Schroeppel; Jan. 4; prisoner Dec 31,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fall, Orrin W., 19; Jan. 4, '64, Schroeppel; Jan. 4; d. June 29,
'64, Washington, from wounds received at Cold Harbor.
Fish, Charles E., 23; Jan. 5, '64, Galen; Jan. 5; dis. Dec. 27, '64,
on account of wounds received before Petersburg.
Flanders, William, 27; Nov. 8, '63, Galen, in Co. L; Nov. 19;
trans, to Co. K Feb. 6, '64; deserted June 10, '64.
Foley, Timothy, 22; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. as Sergt.,
May 20, '65.
Foote, Oscar A., 18; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Corp.; Sergt,
Sept. 8, '63; promoted 2d Lieut.
Freeman, Calvin B., 37; Aug. 27, '64, Ira; Aug. 29, 1 year; dis.
June 15, '65.
Fuller, Henry, 20; Dec. 23, '63, New Haven; Dec 23; d. Oct 19,
'64, on flag-of-truce boat New York, en route to Annapolis;
had been prisoner.
Gannon, Patrick, 27; Sept. 23, '64, Rochester; Sept. 28, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Garrity, Patrick, 42; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. June 14,
'64, from wounds received June 4 at Gold Harbor.
Gardner, Jerome W., 20; Dec. 16, '63, Palermo; Dec. 16; pris
oner Dec. 31, '64; drowned April 24, '65, steamer Black
Diamond.
Gelligan, William, 28; Dec. 21, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 21; deserted
April 10, '64.
Gibson, Daniel, 21; June 10, '63, Syracuse; June 10; dis. Sept.
27, '65..
Gibson, Seymour, 25; Oct. 31, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gifford, William D., 22; Dec. 21, '63, Ira; Jan. 4, '64; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Golden, Thomas, 44; July 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Gordon, John, — ; Jan. 8, '63, Washington, D. C; Jan. 8, Ord
nance Sergt; no M. O.
Gort, Truman, 21; April 4, '63, Galen; April 4; deserted Aug.
7, 63 ; anything but a true man.

COMPANY K. 565
Gray, Samuel P., 43; Dec 24, '63, Cato; Jan. 4; prisoner Dec.
31, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gregory, Charles, 33; Aug. 10, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; dis. Jan. 13, '63.
Green, DeWitt G., 24; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Groom, Volney B., 30; Aug. 31, '64, Ira; Sept. 2, 1 year; dis.
July 13, '65, Philadelphia.
Guernsey, Henry, 32; Aug. 22, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; dis. Jan. 25, '64.
Hadcock, Dennis, 30; Aug. 20, '64, Brutus; Aug. 29, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Hammond, George, 26; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb. 11,
'64 j Sergt., May 1, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Harrington, William, 24; Dec. 16, '63, New Haven; Dec. 16;
prisoner Dec. 31, '64; drowned April 24, '65, steamer Black
Diamond.
Hebard, Henry, 21; June 17, '63, Auburn; June 17; deserted
July 29, '63.
Hendrick, Patrick, 34; Jan. 18, '64, Lebanon; Jan. 18; wd. Cold
Harbor ; d. Dec. 18, '64, Rochester.
Hickey, Michael, 44; Dec. 22, '63, Skaneateles; Dec. 22; dis.
Jan. 12, '65.
Hills, Hiram, 32; Dec 29, '63, Cuyler; Dec 29; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; d. Nov. 23, '64, Danville, Va.
Hilton, J. Philip, 33; Jan. 4, '64, Sharon; Jan. 4; wd. Sept. 19,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Howking, Elizur, age not given; Aug. 28, '64, Ira; Aug. 29, 1
year ; d. Jan. 19, '65, field hospital.
Howley, Thomas, 35; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Hulett, Elmer, 35; Aug. 10, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; deserted Nov. 27,
'63.
Humphrey, Lafayette, 22; Aug. 19, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp.,
Feb. 11, '64; Sergt., Dec. 18, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Hutchins, Alfred, 32; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. March
21, '63.
Hutchins, Andrew J., 26; July 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; pris
oner July 9, '64, Monocacy; dis. June 13, '65, Annapolis.
Ide, Daniel, 18; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 26; k. Dec. 30, '64,
picket line before Petersburg.
Jackson, Andrew, 44; Aug. 29, '64, Auburn; Aug. 29, 1 year;
prisoner Dec. 31, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
James, John F., 20; Dec. 21, '63, Palermo; Dec. 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Johnson, Calvin C, 17; Dec. 28, '63, Lysander; Dec. 28; no M. O.
Kelley, James, 20; Dec. 20, '63, Fayette; Dec. 29; dis. June 9,
'64, Baltimore.
Kevand, John, 22; Jan. 2, '62, Sharon; Jan. 2; Sergt., June 24,
'65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kiefer, Barnetto, 38; Sept. 4, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. Sept. 19, '64,
Winchester.

566 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Killy, Lawrence, 18; Dec. 16, '63, Phelps; Dec. 26; d. April 30,
'65, Phelps.
Kilmer, Ezra W., 25; Aug. 14, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; trans. V. R. C,
no date.
Kilmer, William A., 33; Aug. 14, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; d. March 8,
'64, Fort Mansfield.
King, Andrew J., 21; Dec 12, '63', Galen; Dec. 29; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet. Co. G,
8th N. Y. Cav.
King, Obadiah, 23; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb. 18, '63;
Sergt., Oct. 23, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Kinsella, John, 26; Aug. 14, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; Corp., no date;
Sergt., Sept. 8; wd. Sept. 19, '64, Winchester; dis. June 17,
'65.
Kline, Valentine, 28; Sept. 6, '64, Wolcott; 1 year; dis. June 26,
'65, Washington.
Kyle, John, 35; Nov. 11, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12; deserted March
28, '64.
Lawrence, George, 44; Nov. 27, '63, Syracuse, in Co. L; Dec. 2;
trans, to K Feb. 6, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H A.
Lee, James, 33; Dec. 18, '63, Ira; Jan. 2, '64; d. June 11, '64,
from wounds received at Cold Harbor.
Livingstone, George, 27; Aug. 25, '64, Ira; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
McDougal, Samuel N., 43; Dec. 31, '63, Galen; Dec. 31; k. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor.
McDougal, William T., 18; March 9, '63, Galen; March 9; dis.
May 15, '65.
Mack, Philander, 27; March 25, '63, Galen; March 25; deserted
May 7, '63.
McKenney, Luke, 44; Dec. 10, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 14; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McKnight, Michael, 35; July 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; prisoner
Dec. 31, '64; M. O., July 6, '65.
McLeod, Peter, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Lysander; Dec. 21; d. July 13,
'64, Baltimore.
McMaster, John S., 29; Aug. 23, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, 1st Sergt;
promoted 1st Lieut. Co. G.
Mann, George, 40; Nov. 15, '63, Auburn; Nov. 24; d. July 27,
'63, Frederick, Md., from wounds received at Monocacy;
Vet. Co. H, 111th N. Y. Vols.
Marion, Lewis, 27; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Dec. 26; d. Sept. 3, '64,
Oswego; Vet. Co. E, 35th N. Y. Vols.
Mead, Jeremiah, 35; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Miller, Pice. 44; Sept. 13, '64, Sodus; Sept. 14, 1 year; d. Feb.
9, '65, City Point.
Miney, Frederick, 37; Sept. 1, '63, Lyons; Nov. 19; deserted Apr.
30, '64.
Mintonye, Elbert, 20; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 29^ 1 year; d. Dec.
9, '64, City Point.

COMPANY K. 567
Mitchell, Edward, 27; Aug. 11, '62, Williamson; Sept. 8; de
serted Sept. 11, '62.
Monroe, Caleb N., 22; July 13, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; d. April 7,
'65, Baltimore.
Morgan, Patrick J., 24; Aug. 18, '62, Galen; Sept 8, Sergt; 1st
Sergt, Feb. 25, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Moriarty, Michael, 27; Aug. 25, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. June 19,
'65, Frederick, Md.
Morris, Clark, 34; Aug. 20, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Morrison, Dennis, 25; Dec 12, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 17; Corp.,
May 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Morser, Jacob, 47; Sept. 16, Williamstown; Sept. 17, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Mosher, James A., 32; Aug. 20, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Sergt.; trans.
Jan. 21, '64, V. R. C.
Moss, Charles F., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; d. Sept. 18, '64,
hospital, Fort Reno.
Mulany, Wilson H, 44; Dec. 24, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; dis. March
15, '65 ; borne also as Melaney.
Murray, Michael, 38; Dec. 2, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 28; trans. June
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Myres, Anthony, 43; Jan. 4, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nichols, Alvah, 32; Dec. 18, '63, Ira; Jan. 2, '64; dis. Jan. 31, '65.
Norton, William, 22; Sept. 12, '64, Hopewell; Sept. 15, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
O'Brien, Marcus, 18; July 9, '63, Galen; July 9; deserted Feb.
14, '64.
Olds, James, 3S; Jan. 14, '64, Auburn; Jan. 15; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Owens, Lucius, 18; Jan. 13, '63, Galen; Jan. 13; trans. Dec. 27,
'64, V. R. C.
Page, F. Webster, 18; Dec. 19, '63, Fabius; Dec. 19; d. March
26, '64, Fort Mansfield.
Parsons, Myron, 27; Nov. 17, '63, Galen; Nov. 19; deserted Mar.
24, '64.
Peckham, George H, 18; Dec. 21, '63, New Haven; Dec. 21;
prisoner Dec. 31, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Pendleton, William, 21; Nov. 4, '63, Auburn, in Co. L; Nov. 12;
trans, to K Feb. 6, '64; deserted June 10, '64.
Penner, Adelbert, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Palermo; Jan. 4; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Pero, Donti, 35; Jan. 16, '64, Eaton; Jan. 16; dis. June 13, '65.
Pettie, Edgar C, 18; Nov. 18, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; prisoner at
Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Phillips, Nathan, 26; Sept. 16, '64, Williamson; Sept. 16, 1 year;
absent sick at M. O.
Pierce, Charles O., 23; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., Feb. 11,
'64; prisoner at Monocacy; dis. June 30, '65, Elmira.

568 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Pinder, Owen, 18; Nov. 23, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 23; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Prichard, Allen B., 34; Aug. 11, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Prine, Charles, 18; Nov. 21, '63, Ira; Dec. 2; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Reed, Hiram A., 26; Sept. 6, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. June 9, '64,
Cold Harbor.
Reid, John D., 36; July 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; k. July 9, '61,
Monocacy.
Riley, Barney, 21; Jan. 19, '64, Sullivan; Jan. 19; prisoner Dec.
31, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Robinson, Orville T., 24; Jan. 4, '64, Sharon; Jan. 4; dis. June
1, '65.
Scott, John, 42; Jan. 4, '64, Cuyler; Jan. 15; d. Sept. 15, '64,
Baltimore.
Sherman, Charles H, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., March
6, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Smith, George P., 18; Jan. 1, '64, Galen; Jan. 5; no M. 0.
Snyder, Calvin, 18; Aug. 31, '64, Ira; Aug. 31, 1 year; d. Feb.
6, '65, City Point.
Snyder, John W., 27; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; prisoner at
Monocacy July 9, '64; d. at Parole Camp, Annapolis, Feb.
28, '65.
Snyder, William H, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; wd. Cold Har
bor; M. O., July 6, '65.
Southard, John, 29; July 25, '64, Auburn; Aug. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sova, James S., 21; Dec. 17, '63; Dec. 30; wd. Cold Harbor;
deserted Dec. 31, '64.
Sparks, George. 35; Jan. 4, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Spencer, Herman, 19; Dec. 16, '63, New Haven; Dec. 16; wd.
Cold Harbor; dis. March 23, '65.
Spickerman. John, 42; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 31, 1 year; dis.
Mav 29; '65.
Steel, William H, 30; Nov. 16, '63, Galen; Nov. 19; d. Nov. 14,
'64, a prisoner at Danville, Va.
Sturge, John M., 19; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Corp.; k. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor.
Sturge, Philip, 25; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Sergt.; promoted
2d Lieut. Co. G.
Sullivan, Cornelius, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Ledyard; Jan. 4; d. March
13, '65, Annapolis.
Sullivan, Michael, 40; Aug. 20, '62, Galen; Sept. 21; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Sullivan, Thomas, 26; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65. ,
Taylor, Charles W., 18; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Corp.; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.

COMPANY K. 569
Teller, Isaac L., 20; Dec. 21, '63, Auburn; Dec. 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Teller, James E., 23; Aug. 31, '64, Ira; Aug. 31, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Telyea, Lewis, 22; Jan. 16, '64, Lebanon; Jan. 16; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Temple, Daniel E., 18; Aug. 20, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; M. O., July
6, '65.
Terpenning, Wallace, 23; Aug. 11, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., Oct.
23, '64; Sergt., May 1, '65; M. O., July 6, '65.
Thomas, John C, 33; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 31, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Tillow, Wilhelmus, 19; Aug. 15, '62, Butler; Sept. 8; no M. O.
Toomey, James, 38; Dec. 28, '63, Oswego; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Townsend, James, 22; Dec. 22, '63, Mentz; Dec. 31; d. Nov. 23,
'64, a prisoner at Danville, Va.
Townsend, William J., 25; Jan. 4, '64, Volney; Jan. 4; d. March
6, '64, Fort Mansfield.
Tripp, Culver, 40; July 30, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; dis. July 29, '63.
Underwood, John, 22; Sept. 12, '64, East Bloomfield; Sept. 12,
1 year; trans., no date, Co. K, 11th Regt., V. R. C.
Vorce, David, 24; Feb. 22, '63, Galen; Feb. 22; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wallace, Daniel D., 31; Jan. 3, '64, Ira; Jan. 3; dis. June 28, '65.
Wallace, Patrick, 37; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 16; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Welch, John, 32; Aug. 21, '62, Galen; Corp., June 18, '63; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
West, Alonzo, 35; July 31, '62, Galen; Sept. 8; M. O., July 6, '65.
Wheater, Benjamin E., 43; Aug. 11, '62, Williamson; Sept. 8;
d. Aug. 14, '64, a prisoner at Danville, Va.
Wheeler, William, 38; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 26; dis. July
6, '65, Washington.
Whipple, John L., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8; Corp., Dec. 18,
'64; M. O., July 6, '65.
Wilbur, Henry J., 40; Aug. 29, '64, Ira; Aug. 29, 1 year; dis.
June 30, '65, Washington.
Wilder, Henry, 40; Aug. 26, '62, Mentz; Sept. 8; Musician; dis.
July 29, '63.
Wiles, William, 19; Dec. 14, '63, New Haven; Dec. 14; k. June
1, '64, Cold Harbor.
Wilson, Amos, 32; Aug. 13, '62, Ira; Sept. 8, Corp.; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans, as Sergt., April 7, '65, V. R. C.
Winchell, Augustus; 44; Dec 24, '63, Cicero; Dec. 24; dis. Mar.
17, '65, on account of wounds received in action.
Wing, Henry O., 20; Dec. 14, '63, New Haven; Dec. 14; d., Corp.,
Dec. 27, '64, field hospital.
Winne, Barnard, 18; July 4, '63, Galen; July 4; deserted Nov.
13, '63.

570 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Woodruff, Alson, 21; Dec. 19, '63, Fabius; Dec. 19; d. July 2,
'64, field hospital.
COMPANY L.
When it became evident that more men must be had to make
up the maximum required, under the change from infantry to
heavy artillery, commissions were given to several men in the
old companies to recruit, among them F. A. Sinclair of Com
pany I, and, as he rendered the best account of himself, to him
fell the captaincy, and S. Augustus Howe, who had been an
excellent soldier in the 24th N. Y. Infantry, was commissioned
senior 1st lieutenant. 'Tis said that there was much bickering
over the placing of officers in this company, but notwithstand
ing the men gave a first-class account of themselves.
Let a veteran of the company give his own story :
"Some one has said that Company L came from nowhere in
particular, but were 'from all over the lots,' which was true in
a large measure. Oswego county gave quite a large delegation
and Oswego canal a larger one; beyond those they scattered
badly, but they were as good a set of men as one could find in
a day's march. They were pretty full of ginger sometimes, so
much so that profane persons have been known to allude to
them as 'Company H — 1.' There were some men who would
have a good time whether or no. John H. H, Billy G., and
others, as a general thing, kept the boys laughing with their
wit and nonsense. Even when feet were bloody through blisters
and long marches, "John Henry" used to run the company much
as though the boys were on the 'raging canawl,' hailing other
regiments to know what they were loaded with, or asking them
to pass our line over theirs. No Company L man can forget the
way he would roar out, 'W-h-o-a, snub her up! Bring them
mules on board!' this when the company stopped for rest or
for the night. We always had our kits for play when in bar
racks or camp about Washington; football, boxing-gloves, fid
dles and bass viols, with nearly every other musical instrument
excepting pianos and church organs (the boys could play them,
too) were reached for whenever we had a chance to pause
awhile, but when we started for the front they were boxed up
and left in Washington." CAPTAINS.
Frank A. Sinclair, from Company I, Feb. 22, '64; rank from
Feb. 15; wd. June 19, '64, near Petersburg; dis. Nov. 28, '64.
S. Augustus Howe, from 1st Lieut., Dec. 24, '64; rank from Nov.
28; M. O. with regiment July 6, '65.
FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
S. Augustus Howe, 24; Feb. 23, '64, Oswego; rank from Dec 6,
'63; promoted Captain. Had served an enlistment in the
24th N. Y. Vols.

COMPANY L. 571
Joseph W. Jewhurst, from Sergt., Co. I, Feb. 23, '64; rank from
Feb. 15; promoted Captain Co. H.
William W. Sinclair, trans, from Co. C, March 15, '65; M. O.
with regiment July 6, '65.
John W. Fitzpatrick, from 2d Lieut., March 1, '65; rank from
Feb. 3; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
William W. Sinclair, from Co. I, Feb. 15, '64; promoted 1st
Lieut. Co. C.
Charles Y. Squier, 29; Feb. 23, '64, Washington; dis. Jan. 4, '65.
John W. Fitzpatrick, from 1st Sergt, Dec. 15, '64 ; rank from
Oct. 25; promoted 1st Lieut.
Theodore D. Quick, from Sergt., Feb. 4, '65; rank from Dec 21,
'64; M. O. with regiment July 6, '65.
Charles Robinson, from 1st Sergt, March 30, '65; rank from
Feb. 28; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. as 1st
Lieut. NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abbott, Andrew J., 26; Dec. 14, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 15; no M. O.
Allen, Seneca P., 23; Dec. 29, '63, Onondaga; prisoner Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Alpeter, George H, 19; Dec. 10, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 15; wd.
Cedar Creek; dis. June 9, '65.
Andrews, Aura J., 18; Dec. 30, '63, Lafayette; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Askey, David, 21; Dec. 17, '63, Auburn; Dec. 17; Corp., Feb. 11,
'64; Sergt., Jan. 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Auyer, Romain, 25; Nov. 23, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; dis. May
23, '65.
Babbitt, Charles L., 25; Dec. 7, '63; Dec. 15; prisoner Oct. 19.
'64, Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Vet!
Co. I, 12th N. Y. Vols.
Balliett, Andrew J., 18; July 30, '64, Mentz; July 30, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Barber, Eugene, 21; Dec. 23, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 23; deserted
July 23, '64; Vet. Co. 1, 12th N. Y. Vols.
Barber, John A., 20; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year;
wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Barry, Patrick, 28; Dec. 22, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 22; badly in
jured by battery team at Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Bell, James, 24; March 26, '64, Mendon; April 6; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; Veteran.
Bellville, Henry, 30; Nov. 9, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 9; no M. O.
Bennett, Elisha L., Sr., 44; Dec. 31, '63, Syracuse; Dec 31; de
serted May 26, '64.

572 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Bennett, Elisha L., Jr., 18; Dec. 31, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 31; de
serted Dec. 4, '64. "Like father, like son;" both false
prophets.
Bennett, William, 29; Dec 21, '63, Fabius; Dec. 21; dis. July
18, '65.
Bilkey, Edward, 20; Dec. 21, '63, Scriba; Dec. 21; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. C, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Bostock, James, 27; Jan. 8, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 8; no M. O.
Brant, Bela B., 23; Dec. 19, '63, Oswego; Dec. 19; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek; Vet. Co. C, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Brown, Charles A., 21; Dec. 24, '63, Scipio; Dec. 26; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Buck, Daniel, 34; Dec. 30, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 30; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Burdell, George, 22; Dec. 20, '63, Niles; Jan. 2; prisoner Sept.
28, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Campbell, Leland E., 18; Oct. 24, '63, Oswego; Nov. 12; dis.
Dec. 20, '64.
Carey, Timothy, 25; Nov. 6, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; deserted Apr.
13, '64.
Carlton, Frederick, 19; Nov. 30, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; prisoner
Sept. 28, '64, in the Valley; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H. A.
Carpenter, Orlando, 19; Dec. 21, '63, Watertown; Feb. 19; dis.
July 19, '65. Veteran.
Carrier, Silas, 21; Dec. 22, '63, Montezuma; Jan. 4, '64; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carrier, Vaughn D., 18; Dec. 31, '63, Throop; Dec. 31; dis. May
18, ^65.
Carroll, William, 19; Dec. 26, Covert; Dec. 26; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Case, George A., 26; Dec. 23, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Casevand, Levi, 24; Jan. 2, '64, Geddes; Jan. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Catlin, David, 44; Nov. 2, '63, Auburn; Nov. 12; dis. June 26, '65.
Chilton, Spencer, 18; Oct. 24, '63, Oswego; Nov. 12; dis. June
14, '65.
Churchill, Charles R., 39; Feb. 22, '64, Scriba; Feb. 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clark, Charles M., 24; Dec. 14, '63, Waterloo; Dec. 15; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clark, James, 21; Oct. 24, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 5; Corp., April 1,
'64; Sergt, Dec. 1, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cook, Clement, 36; Dec 14, '63, Sullivan; Dec, 14; wd. June,
'64, Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cook, John W., 21; Nov. 14, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 14; trans, June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Cooper, George W., 18; Sept. 2, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.

COMPANY L. 573
Cooper, John S., 33; Dec. 14, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 15; no M. O.
Cowan, Albertus, Jr., 18; Nov. 14, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; d. Mar.
25, '64, Fort Simmons.
Crooks, George, 41; Oct. 17, '63, Auburn; Oct. 17; no M. O.
Crouch, Henry, 35; Nov. 12, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; dis. July
18, '65.
Cummings, Lawrence, 21; Dec. 17, '63, Onondaga; Dec 17; dis.
Aug. 29, '65.
Dakin, Timothy, 44; Nov. 27, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; dis. Dec
22, '64.
Dandy, Thomas W., 18; Oct. 20, '63, Oswego; Nov. 12; trans.
as Corp. May, '64, to U. S. Navy.
Davenport, Umphrey, 18; Nov. 21, '63, Moravia; Nov. 21; no
M. O.
Decker, Peleg V., 21; Nov. 18, '63, Auburn; Nov. 18; no M. O.
Deland, William, 27; Dec. 11, '63, Cicero; Dec. 12; no M. O.
Denny, Paul, 27; Dec 14, '63, 22d N. Y. Dist; Dec. 14; deserted
May 6, '64.
Denny, Peter, 30; Dec. 14, '63, 22d N. Y. Dist.; Dec. 14; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Doan, Edwin, 28; Oct. 27, '63, Auburn; Oct. 27; no M. O.
Dodge, Isaac, 24; Oct. 29, '63, Auburn; Jan. 18, '64; dis. Julv
13, '65.
Doran, John, 21; Nov. 10, '63, Auburn; Nov. 10; no M. O.; Vet.
3d N. Y. A.
Dozer, Frederick, 26; Oct. 19, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; k. in camp
of 8th N. Y. H. A., Feb. 18, '65. Vet. Co. B, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Dubois, Valentine, 23; Dec. 16, '63, Volney; Dec. 16; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. 24th N. Y. Vols.
Dunbar, Alonzo, 23; Nov. 19, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 19; no M. O.
Edgerton, William, 37; Nov. 12, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; pro
moted, April 17, '65, 2d Lieut, 10th U. S. C. H. A.
Fields, George, 18; Dec. 19, '63, Onondaga; Dec 19; d. Aug. 21,
'64, Washington.
Fitch, George M., 21; Dec. 24, '64, Syracuse; Dec. 24; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Fitzpatrick, John W., 20; Oct. 20, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12; 1st
Sergt., Feb. 1, '64; promoted 2d Lieut. Veteran.
Flynn, Thomas S., 18; Dec. 19, '63, Auburn; Jan. 4, '64; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ford, Charles A., 19; Jan. 9, '64, Homer; Jan. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fralich, Zachariah, 23; Dec. 16, '63, Oswego; Dec. 19; Artificer,
no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fredenburgh, Andrew, 19; Oct. 19, '63, Elbridge; Dec. 2; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. 12th N. Y. Vols.
Garnet, Robert, 40; Dec. 6, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 9; trans. June 27,
'65 2d N. Y. H. A . Veteran ; also borne as Gamel.
Garrison, Edward H., 38; Nov. 23, '63, Auburn; Dec 7; Musi
cian, no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

574 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Garrison, Willie J., 13; Nov. 23, '63, Auburn; Nov. 23, Musician
dis. June 15, '65.
Geary, James, 19; Jan. 13, '64, Geddes; Jan. 13; deserted Jan.
10, '65.
Geary, William, 29; Jan. 13, '64, Geddes; Jan. 13; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gering, John, 23; Nov. 30, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gillis, John P., 23; Dec. 7, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 7; deserted May
27, '64.
Glassford, Benjamin T., 26; Dec. 24, '63, Oswego; Dec. 24; dis.
June 14, '65.
Grantier, George, 21; Dec 16, '63, Scriba; Dec. 16; dis. Aug. 8,
'65. Vet. Co. B, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Greggs, Julius B., 33; Dec. 22, '63, Owasco; Jan. 4, '64; deserted
July 23, '64.
Gregson, Frank, 18; Jan. 7, '64, Auburn; Jan. 8; dis. Jan. 15, '65.
Hadden, George, 18; Nov. 17, '63, Auburn; Nov. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hall, George, 33;- Dec. 16, '63, Oswego; Dec. 16; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. C, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Hall, Henry H, 22; Nov. 12, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Hammond, Sidney R., 24; Dec. 24, '63, Scriba; Dec. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Handwright, Daniel, 32; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 26; Corp.,
Jan. 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Haskins, Benjamin F., 18; Nov. 9, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hayhoe, Henry; 29; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; Sept. 1, 1 year;
k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Heath, Peter, 20; Nov. 30, '63, Auburn; Dec. 9; deserted Oct. 10,
'64; a regular heathen.
Heath, William T., 20; Aug. 1, '64, Rochester; Aug. 1; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Henry, Charles G, 19; Nov. 10, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; d. July
21, '64, hospital, New York.
Heustis, Horatio N., 27; Dec. 24, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 24; Corp.,
no date; wd. June 19, '64, before Petersburg; dis. July 24,
'65.
Hewitt, Thomas, 21; Dec 17, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 17; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hicks, James W., 20; Nov. 23, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 7; trans., May
1, '65, 37th Co., 2d Bat, V. R. C.
Hill, Charles, 20; Nov. 14, '63, Oswego; Nov. 14; no M. O.
Himes, Lucius P., 24; Dec. 18, '64, Scriba; Dec. 18; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Hollister, Henry K, 18; Nov. 9, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; Corp.,
Feb. 1, '64; Sergt, May 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H.A.

COMPANY L. 575
Hoover, Daniel, 34; Dec. 22, '63, Oswego; Dec. 22; deserted
May 4, '64.
Horton, Charles A., 19; Nov. 23, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hoyt, James L., 18; Jan. 7, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hoyt, Ossian M., 21; Nov. 23, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 7; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hubbard, Henry C, 28; Dec 24, '63, Scriba; Dec. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Hubbard, Luke, 18; July 6, '64, Norwich; July 6; M. O., Oct.
18, '65, Elmira.
Hudson, William T., 21; Aug. 1, '64, Rochester; Aug. 1, 1 year;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Huntington, Edwin L., 23; Dec. 14, '63, Oswego; Dec. 14; Sergt.,
Feb. 11, '64; 1st Sergt., May 21, '65; wd. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar
Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; promoted 2d
Lieut. Vet. Co. B, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Huntington, Lewis J., 19; Feb. 26, '64, Mexico; Feb. 26; d. July
9, '64, Washington.
Hurtubise, Stephen, 29; Dec. 26, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 26; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 29, '65.
Hutchins, Samuel, 23; Dec. 14, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 14; d. Dec.
2, '64. Veteran.
Jackson, John, 18; Dec. 2, '63, Auburn; Dec. 24; k. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek. Vet. Co D, 3d N. Y. L. A.
Jackson, Thomas, 20; Oct. 21, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; wd. Cedar
Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. D, 3d N.
Y. L. A.
Jacobs, William H., 26; Nov. 27, '63, Auburn; Dec 27; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Jaquay, Reuben, 19; Dec. 8, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 8; Bugler, no
date; d. Sept. 8, '64, prisoner at Andersonville, Ga.
Johnson, John, 39: Nov. 9, '63, Auburn; Dec. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Johnson, William, 18; Nov. 12, '63, Albany; Nov. 12; no M. O.
Jones, Milton, 20; Dec 18, '63, Scriba; Dec. 18; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Jordan, Joseph H., 33; Dec. 21, '63, Oswego; Dec. 21; deserted
Nov. 26, '64, which was the "other side of Jordan."
June, Morris, 18; Dec. 21, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 21; lost leg at
Cedar Creek; dis. May 13, '65.
Kaufman, George, 26; Dec. 10, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 10; Corp.,
no date; dis. July 24, '65. Vet. Co. H, 12th N. Y. Vols.
Kaye, William, 35; Dec. 3, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 3; no M. O.
Keller, John, 24; Dec. 14, '63, Sullivan; Dec. 14; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kennedy, Michael, 18; Dec. 14, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 16; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

576 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Kibbie, Almond M., 29; Dec. 19, '63, Fabius; Dec. 19; wd. Cedar
Creek; Sergt, no date; dis. July 12, '65. Veteran.
Kingsley, Seth H., 19; Dec. 23, '63, Onondaga; Dec 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Knapp, Henry Z., 25; Oct. 29, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12; dis. July
26, '65, Syracuse.
Lagrange, William, 24; Jan. 4, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Laughlin, George, 20; Dec. 31, '63, Varick; Dec. 31; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lefiflngwell, William H, 26; Dec. 23, '63, Camden; Dec. 23; d.
July 29, '64, Washington.
Little, Henry F., 22; Oct. 20, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 7; dis. Aug. 29,
'65. Veteran.
Long, William E., 30; Dec. 19, '63, Scriba; Dec. 19; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McGill, Frank, 30; Oct. 26, '63, Oswego; Nov. 12; trans, to U. S.
Navy May, '64. Vet. Co. F, 24th N. Y. Vols.
McGovern, Thomas, 21; Nov. 3, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y- H. A. Vet. Co. D, 3d N. Y. A.
McGowan, Robert E., 41; Dec. 28, '63, Fabius; Dec. 28, Bugler;
dis. Feb. 16, '65.
McMahon, Daniel, 37; Nov. 9, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 12; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. C, 24th N. Y. Vols.
McManus, Edward, 26; Nov. 17, '63, Marcellus; Dec. 2; dis. May
15, '65.
McManus, William, 22; Nov. 28, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 7; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. H, 12th N. Y. Vols.
Mansfield, Rupert E., 18; Nov. 9, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Marion, Napoleon, 20; Dec. 19, '63, Oswego; Dec. 19; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Marshall, George, 24; Jan. 4, '64, Geneva; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Martin, George, 27; Dec. 21, '63, Clay; Dec. 21; Corp., Feb. 11,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Mead, Stephen E., 19; Nov. 23, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; trans. June
27, '05, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Miller, John J., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Skaneateles; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Milliken, William, 26; Nov. 7, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; dis. Aug,
9, '65, Elmira. Vet. Co. B, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Mix, George, 18; Nov. 20, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; d. Feb. 3, '65,
hospital, City Point, Va.
Mosner, Peter, 18; Nov. 27, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mulvev, Frank, 20; Nov. 9, '63, Auburn; Nov. 24; trans. June
27", '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Munroe, George C, 21; Nov. 18, '63, Oswego; Dec. 9; commis
sioned 2d Lieut., May 23, '64, not mustered; dis. Aug. 29,

COMPANY L. 577
'64, for promotion 2d Lieut, 13th U. S. C. A. Vet. Co. I,
24th N. Y. Vols.
Murphy, Thomas, 22; Nov. 9, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Murray, Thomas, 26; Dec. 3, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 9; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Northrup, George, 22; Dec 28, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Brien, Patrick, 23; Jan. 6, '64, Svracuse; Jan. 6; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Connor, Benjamin, 32; Dec. 22, '63, Oswego; Dec. 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
O'Donnell, Michael, 44; Oct. 22, '63, Auburn; Nov. 5; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
O'Hara, John, 21; Dec. 4, '63, Auburn; Dec. 4; no M. O.
Page, Seneca, 44; Nov. 26, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; Artificer; d. Apr.
2, '65, hospital, Alexandria.
Parker, Melvin, 42; July 25, '64, 8th N. Y. Dist; July 25; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Pereaux, Peter, 29; Dec. 21, '63, Oswego; Dec. 21; wd. at Battery
Lee, no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Pike, George A., 19; Aug. 6, '64, Rochester; Aug. 6; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Preston, Thomas, 23; Oct. 21, '63, Oswego; Dec. 9; Sergt, no
date; d. Aug. 11, '64, hospital, Fort Reno. Vet. Co. C, 24th
N. Y. Vols.
Prosser, Garrett S., 22; Nov. 30, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 30; d. Jan.
11, '64, Fort Simmons.
Quick, Theodore D., 37; Nov. 4, '63, Owasco; Dec. 2; Sergt., Feb.
1, '64; promoted 2d Lieut.
Radway, Fred P., 20; Dec. 29, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 29; Corp.,
Feb. 11, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Reidy, Maurice, 21; Oct. 28, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Richardson, Stephen C, 41; Dec. 22, '63, Skaneateles; Dec. 22
d. March 18, '64, Fort Simmons.
Robinson, Charles, 22; Nov. 23, '63, Oswego; Dec. 9; Sergt, Feb
1, '64; 1st Sergt., Jan. 1, '65; promoted 2d Lieut. Vet. Co
B, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Rockfellow, Victor S., 28; March 30, '64, Hastings; March 30
dis. as Corp., July 25, '65.
Rowe, Francis E., 18; Jan. 1, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 1; dis. Aug.
23, '64.
Ryan, Patrick, 18; Nov. 20, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 24; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sayles, John B., 33; Dec. 28, '63, Skaneateles; Dec. 28; d. March
15, '64, Fort Simmons.
Searles, Wilbur, 21; Nov. 13, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; Corp., Jan.
1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. 24th N. Y.
Vols. 37

578 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Sinclair, James P., 27; Jan. 4, '64, Cayuga; Jan. 4; dis. Jan.
10, '65.
Skinner, Edson C, 25; Dec. 25, '63, Oswego; Dec. 25; trans. Jan.
23, '65, 81st Co., 2d Bat., V. R. C.
Sliney, Thomas, 26; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Dec. 26; Corp., Feb.
11, '64; Sergt, Jan. 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H.
A. Vet. Co. F, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Smith, George, 21; Jan. 1, '64, Galen; Jan. 5; deserted Jan. 10,
'65.
Smith, John, 43; Nov. 18, '63, Salina; Dec. 7; absent sick from
Sept. 20, '64.
Smith, Mathew W., 18; Dec. 17, '63, Oswego; Dec. 17; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Snyder, Charles J., 19; Dec. 17, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 17; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Snyder, Philip, 23; Jan. 4, '64, Geneva, in Co. A; Jan. 4; trans.
to L, no date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Soule, Francis E. H., 22; Jan. i8, '64, Schenectady; Feb. 26;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Souls, Hobart W., 16; Nov. 3, '63, Auburn; Nov. 12; Musician,
no date; dis. May 18, '65.
Sova, Amada, 23; Dec. 2, '63, Oswego; Dec 2; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Spaulding, Charles J., 18; Oct. 29, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Springer, Elisha, 26; Dec. 24, '63, Niles; Jan. 4; wd. Oct. 19, '64,
Cedar Creek; dis. July 8, '65.
Squires, David R. B., 45; Jan. 9, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 9; no M. 0.
Stacey, Alfred E., 18; Sept. 5, '64, Elbridge; 1 year; M. O., July
6, '65.
Stacey, Anthony, 26; Nov. 2, '63, Skaneateles; Nov. 2; dis. Corp.,
July 24, '64. Vet. Co. G, 3d N. Y. A.
Stacey, George, 42; Sept. 5, '64, Elbridge; Sept. 5, 1 year; wd.
Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Stevens, Edward P., 18 ; Dec. 2, '63, Mexico ; Dec. 2 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Stewart, Dennis M., 43; Dec 24, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Stewart, George, 40; Nov. 24, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 7; wd. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek; dis. May 27, '65.
Stoyell, John, 21; Nov. 12, '63, Moravia; Dec. 2; Corp., Feb. 1,
'64; Sergt., Feb. 20, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.;
M. O. as 2d Lieut.
Sturdevant, Marshall E., 18; Dec. 16, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 16;
k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Tanner, Cyrus, 29; Nov. 17, '63, Auburn; Nov. 19; dis. May
29, '65.
Toner, John, 19; Aug. 29, '64, Ovid; Aug. 29, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.

COMPANY M. 579
Tunis, William J. H., 18; Aug. 8, '64, Hornellsville; Aug. 8, 1
year;M. O., July 6, '65.
Walker, Livingstone, 17; Nov. 16, '63, Auburn; Nov. 24; d. Mar.
12, '64, Fort Simmons.
Walker, William H., 17; Nov. 16, '63, Auburn; Nov. 24; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Walker, William V., 19; Nov. 23, '63, Auburn; Dec. 2; Corp.,
May 1, '65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Watson, Thomas, 43; Nov. 12, '63, Auburn; Nov. 16; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran 61st N. Y. Vols.
Wayne, Robert, 21; Nov. 13, '63, Auburn; Nov. 13; no M. O.
Webster, Anson D., 21; Dec. 28, '63, Fabius; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. I, 61st N. Y. Vols.
Wickes, Jared W., 20; Nov. 23, '63, Syracuse; Dec 7; trans. May
1, '65, 37th Co., 2d Bat, V. R. C.
Wilbur, Simeon, 39; Nov. 30, '63, Cicero; Nov. 30; d. Jan. 3, '64,
Fort Simmons.
Wilcox, Stephen T., 26; Dec. 30, '63, Manlius; Dec 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Willis, John G., 37; March 30, '64, Palermo; March 30; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wilson, George H., 25; Nov. 23, '63, Onondaga; Dec 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. I, 12th N. Y. Vols.
Winkworth, John, 21; Jan. 2, '64, Geddes; Jan. 2; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Woodburn, Richard, 21; Oct. 21, '63, Oswego; Nov. 24; deserted
March 23, '64. Vet. Co. I, 24th N. Y. Vols.
Young, Andrew, 39; Oct. 22, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. of the Regular Army.
Zimmerman, George, 19; Dec. 11, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 15; d. Jan.
3, '65, hospital, Washington.
COMPANY M.
Company M came into the Ninth as the eleventh company,
though not at the eleventh hour. It is very likely that all the
men in the regiment knowing to the circumstances regretted
the misfortune which deprived the 22d Independent Battery of
the part they had hoped to play in the service, but neither the
men in the company nor those in the regiment were responsible
for the situation, and all speedily became the best of friends.
Since the homes of the majority of those in Company M are
considerably further west than Wayne and Cayuga, the "boys"
do not get to the reunions as their comrades wish, and regrets
are always expressed over the necessary separation.
There are names on the roll of the company that are very
dear to all the survivors, and every one who wore the insignia
of corps and regiment is pleased that so good a company was
sent to march with them in their journeys over Virginia.

580 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Still, the wound inflicted when the battery notion was aban
doned was deep and rankled long. The following lines written
by one of the company, the final stanza of sixteen recounting
the rise and progress of the body, present fairly well the senti
ments of the boys:
"We belong to this regiment, Ninth bandbox 'tis called,
Our letter is M, and by that we are told;
Though we wear not the figures, Number 22,
We'll fight just as well for the red, white and blue."
CAPTAINS.
John D. Numan, 42; Sept. 4, '62, Lockport; Sept. 4, Captain;
dis. April 15, '63.
Anson S. Wood, from Company D, June 5, '63; rank from Apr.
14; wd. at Monocacy; promoted Major.
William I. Parrish, from 1st Lieut., Nov. 30, '64; M. O., July
6, '65. FIRST LIEUTENANTS.
Melancthon N. Brown, 37; Sept. 4, '62, Lockport; Sept. 4, 1st
Lieut; dis. April 16, '63.
William DeW. Pringle, 22; Sept. 4, '62, Lockport; Sept. 4, 1st
Lieut.; for several months Adjutant; dis. Oct. 28, '64.
Robert C. Worthington, from 2d Lieut, June 6, '63 ; rank from
April 16; dis. Jan. 31, '64.
William I. Parrish, from 2d Lieut., April 4, '64; promoted Capt.
Guy A. Brown, from Sergt. Major, Nov. 28, '64 ; wd. April 2, '64,
Petersburg; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. 0. as
Captain.
Robert Finley, from 2d Lieut., March 1, '65; rank from Feb. 3;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
SECOND LIEUTENANTS.
Robert C. Worthington, 23; Sept. 4, '62, Lockport; Sept. 4, 2d
Lieut.; promoted 1st Lieut.
William I. Parrish, from 1st Sergt, June 15, '63; commissioned
May 21; promoted 1st Lieut.
Asahel M. Abbey, from 1st Sergt., April 17, '63; promoted 1st
Lieut, Co. C.
John Oldswager, from Corp., Oct. 16, '64; rank from Aug. 15;
k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Robert Finley, from 1st Sergt., Dec. 15, '64; rank from Nov. 14;
promoted 1st Lieut
NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
Abbey, Asahel M., 25; Aug. 29, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28, Sergt.;
1st Sergt, no date; promoted 2d Lieut.

COMPANY M.

1st Lieut. A. M. Abbey. 1st Lieut. Guy A. Brown.
Capt. Wm. I. Parrish.
Sergt. P. N. Parish. 2d Lieut. J. J. Peard.

COMPANY M. 581
Albert, Christian, 21; Aug. 25, '64, Rome; Aug. 25; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; also borne as Albert Christian.
Avery, Benjamin L., 33; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Avery, George, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Barhite, Anthony, 33; Sept. 1, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; prisoner Dec. 31, '64; dis. June 19, '65.
Barnard, Thomas C, 18; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; d.
July 11, '63, Fort Simmons.
Barnhart, John C, 35; Dec. 31, '63, Scipio; Dec. 31; k. July 9,
'64, Monocacy.
Bartlett, John W., 23; Aug. 13, '63, Bethany; Oct. 28, Corp.;
Sergt., April 27, '64; dis. March 25, '65.
Bartlett, Luther M., 22; Jan. 1, '64, Bethany; Jan. 1; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bates, George W., 30; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Beitz, Charles L., 24; Sept. 1, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Benton, Edwin J., 18; Aug. 29, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; wd. April
2, '65, Petersburg; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Beyer, Charles, 27; Aug. 15, '64, Norwich; Aug. 15; dis. June
10, '65.
Birdsell, Amos M., 29; Aug. 26, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year;
k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Bogardus, John, 34; Sept. 1, '64, Albany; Sept. 1, 1 year; k. Oct.
19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Bower, John, 24; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Corp., 1st
Sergt, no dates; wd. Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d
N. Y. H. A.
Bowman, George W., 18; Dec. 23, '63, Lyons; Dec. 29; wd. Cedar
Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Bowman, Jacob, 36; Dec. 19, '63, Lyons; Dec. 28; dis. Oct. 7, '64,
hospital.
Boyd, Henry C, 18; Feb. 3, '64, 2d N. Y. Dist.; Feb. 3; deserted
Feb. 14, '64.
Brower, Aldice W., 19; Jan. 4, '64, Sodus; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Brown, Cyrus W., 18; Aug. 28, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; promoted
Aug. 1, '63, to commission in U. S. C. T.
Brown, Guy A., 18; Aug. 22, '62, Batavia; Aug. 28, Corp.; Sergt.,
June 4, '63; trans, field and staff, Sergt. Major; later pro
moted 1st Lieut.
Brown, Seymour S., 23; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Corp.,
April 27, '64; dis. July 25, '65.
Burr, Frederick, 29; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; d. July 9,
'64, hospital.
Burnside, Sherman, 43; Sept. 30, '64, Rochester; Sept. 30, 1
year; M. O., July 6, '65.

582 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Burt, Nelson T., 31; Dec. 22, '63, 29th N. Y. Dist.; Dec. 22; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Butler, Frederick, 42; Sept. 22, '64, Rochester; Sept. 22, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Carmel, John, 29; Sept. 4, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; Corp., Oct. 19,
'64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carney, James, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; Corp., Dec.
21, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carney, John, 19; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; wd. Cedar
Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Carney, Michael, 19; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; dis. June
23, '65.
Carter, Zina W., 20; Sept. 2, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Case, James W., 22; Aug. 28, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; also borne as Casey.
Chace, George P., 19; Aug. 25, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Champlin, Rowland J., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Chappie, William H., 18; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis.
Jan. 21, '64.
Clark, Joseph, 19; Sept. 2, '64, Montezuma; Sept. 2, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Cleveland, Charles J., 21; Aug. 25, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; Sergt,
April 27, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Clute, James Wr„ 19; Sept. 2, '64, Albany; Sept. 10, 1 year; dis.
March 19, '65.
Connelly, Henry, 19; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. ; also borne as Conley.
Connor, John, 24; Aug. 12, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Sergt., Jan.
22, '63; trans. April 9, '64, to Signal Corps.
Cook, Orlin, 36; Dec. 26, '63, Bethany; Dec. 27; dis. Oct. 19, '64.
Cook, Thomas, 24; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. March
28, '63.
Cox, Benjamin, 30; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; dis. June 6,
'65.
Cox, John, 31; Sept. 4, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; dis. July 20, '63.
Crampton, William H, 21; Sept 3, '64, Rochester; Sept. 3, 1
year; missing after the Battle of Cedar Creek, Oct. 19, '64.
Crittenden, Josiah T., 35; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28, Sergt;
promoted 2d Lieut., Co. B.
Crowley, Dennis, 12; Jan. 4, '64, Washington; Jan. 4, Musician;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. ; the youngest recorded
age in the regiment.
Cure, Charles, 22; Sept. 19, '64, Albany; Sept. 19, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Cure, Edwin, 20; Sept. 19, '64, Albany; Sept. 19, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; prisoner Dec. 31, '64, Petersburg; M. O., July
6, '65.

COMPANY M. 583
Dabron, William, 20; Dec. 22, '63, Bethel; Dec. 22; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Davenport, Norman, 24; Aug. 20, '64, Bolton; Aug. 20, 1 year;
wd. Cedar Creek; dis. Feb. 25, '65.
Dean, Cassius M., 19; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1; dis. May
29, '65.
Delano, Elbridge C, 44; Jan. 4, '64, Sodus; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Demary, Sylvester, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; wd.
Cedar Creek; trans. Feb. 24, '65, V. R. C.
Derrick, James, 42; Dec. 22, '63, Bethany; Dec. 22; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Had served in Co. D, 14th N. Y. I.
Dewolf, James, 22; Jan. 14, '64, Montezuma; Jan. 14; absent
sick after Nov. 12, '64.
Dibble, Dennis, 19; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dodson, Earl A., 20; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. Feb.
25, '65.
Dodson, George W., 29; Sept. 6, '62, Darien; Oct. 28, Artificer;
wd. at Monocacy; dis. April 10, '65.
Doolittle, Edward F., 45; Jan. 4, '64, Hanover; Jan. 4; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Dowlan, Nicholas, 33; Sept. 30, '64, Albany; Sept. 30, 1 year;
dis. June 15, '65.
Eastwood, Elias, 24; Aug. 26, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; wd. at Mo
nocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Eddy, William A., 22; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; prisoner
Nov. 18, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Eldred, George F., 21; Sept. 23, '64, Farmington; Sept. 23, 1
year; dis. May 31, '65.
Ellison, Alonzo, 26; Dec. 20, '63, Bethel; Dec. 22; wd. Cedar
Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Ensign, Horace, 43; Dec. 23, '63, Bethany; Dec 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Faber, William, 23; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27. '65; 2d N. Y. H. A.
Field, John E., 24; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; dis. March
3, '64.
Finley, Robert, 20; Aug. 28, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; Sergt., Oct.
12, '63; 1st Sergt, Oct. 16, '64; wd. Cedar Creek; promoted
2d Lieut.
Fitzgerald, Michael, 19; Aug. 27, '64, Poughkeepsie; Aug. 27;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Forbes, Orson J., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Foster, Charles, 28; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
Jan. 16, '65. V. R. C.
Foster, Henry, 28; Dec. 30, '63, 29th Cong. Dist.; Dec. 30; trans.
Jan. 16, '65, V. R. C.

584 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Foster, William, 44; Dec. 30, '63, 29th Cong. Dist; Dec. 30;
trans. Jan. 16, '65, V. R. C.
Frank, John, 18; Aug. 5, '64, Schenectady; Aug. 5, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Fritsche, Hermann, 24; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65. 2d N. Y. H. A.
Fritts, Harvey W., 39; Sept. 8, '64, Spafford; Sept. 8; wd. Cedar
Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Gann, George, 38; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; Corp., Dec.
21, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Garratt, Levi T., 36; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. Mar.
27, '64.
Garratt, William L., 23; Jan. 1, '64, Lyons; Jan. 2; trans, as
Artificer Dec. 15, '64, V. R. C.
Gee, Alva A., 19; Jan. 4, '64, Darien; Jan. 5; Corp., no date;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gee, Samuel D., 23; Jan. 5, '64, Darien; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Geynor, Joseph, 33; Sept. 14, '64, Albany; Sept. 14, 1 year; M. 0.,
July 6, '65.
Gillett, Elijah P., 21; Sept. 30, '64, Rochester; Sept. 30, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Glor, Paul, 24; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Godfrey, Arthur, 26; Dec. 28, '63, 29th Cong. Dist; Dec. 28;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Gray, Charles H., 18; Dec. 26, '63, 29th Cong. Dist; Dec. 26;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Greenfield, Alonzo, 21; Dec. 16, '63, Savannah; Dec. 1; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. 98th N. Y. Vols.
Griffin, Charles R., 19; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Griflis, John O., 18; Aug. 30, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Grigers, Frederick, 37; Oct. 7, '64, Kingston; Oct. 7; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Haight, Ira E., 18; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; dis. March
10, '63.
Hannah, Robert, 22; Sept. 7, '64, Albany; Sept. 7, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hartwell, James, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Forestburg; Jan. 4; k. Oct. 19,
'64, Cedar Creek.
Hassett, John, Jr., 19; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; dis. June
16, '65.
Hermann, John, 32; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Sergt,
April 9, '64; dis. July 3, '65.
Herrington, John, 23; Sept. 7, '64, Albany; Sept. 7, 1 year; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Hilsinger, Chester, 24; Dec. 29, '63, Marathon; dis. June 21, '65,
Washington.

COMPANY M. 585
Holenbeck, Abram, 30; Sept. 19, '64, Albany; Sept. 19, 1 year;
wd. Nov. 5, '64; dis. June 19, '65.
Hollenbeck, Arthur, 18; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; k. Dec.
31, '64, Petersburg.
Hollenbeck, Edward J., 18; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; trans.
April 16, '65, V. R. C.
Huff, Gershom R., 20; Aug. 29, '64, Venice; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Humphrey, Amos, 25; Aug. 25, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Humphrey, Amos B., 24 ; Jan. 5, '64, Darien ; Jan. 5 ; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Humphrey, Marcus E., 21; Jan. 5, '64, Darien; Jan. 5; d. Aug.
14, '64, hospital.
Hutchins, Miles H., 19; Feb. 9, '64, Cortland; Feb. 14; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Jewell, Ezra, 39; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; deserted March 18, '65; a false jewel.
Johnson, Henry, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans. Jan.
18, '64, Signal Corps.
Jones, David, 28 ; Jan. 18, '64, Darien ; Jan. 18 ; prisoner July 9,
'64, Monocacy; dis. April 5, '65.
Jones, Samuel R., 28; Feb. 23, '64, Springfield; Feb. 23; dis.
June 22, '65. Vet. Co. K, 3d N. Y. A.
Keaf, David, 19; Feb. 26, '64, Oswego; Feb. 26; d. Oct. 7, '64,
Fort Simmons.
Keating, Patrick, 19; Sept. 6, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; prisoner
Dec. 31, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Kelly, Lawrence, 18; Jan. 30, '64, 6th Cong. Dist.; Jan. 20; de
serted Feb. 5, '64.
King, Lebbeus, 23; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; Corp., April,
'63; Sergt., April 27, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
King, Stephen R., 24; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; missing
after Monocacy, July 9, '64.
Kingdon, John L., 27; Aug. 25, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Corp.,
Jan. 22, '63; trans. Jan. 18, '64, Signal Corps.
Kinkner, Joseph, 22; Aug. 19, '64, Utica; Aug. 19, 1 year; M. O.,
Julv 6, '65.
Knapp, Albert H, 23; Aug. 12, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Corp.,
June 1, '64; Sergt, July 1, '64; prisoner July 20, '64; dis.
Sept. 19, '65, Rochester.
Knox, Alonzo H., 18; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1; wd. Cedar
Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Lampson, James, 28; Sept. 8, '64, Albany; Sept. 14, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Lamson, William H., 30; Dec. 16, '63, 14th Cong. Dist.; Dec. 16;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. Veteran.
Lansing, Isaac, 36; Sept. 12, '64, Albany; Sept. 12; missing after
Cedar Creek.

586 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Lapp, Henry, 25; Sept. 6, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lapp, James M., 19; Aug. 30, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; trans, as
Corp. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lapp, John M., 29; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. Feb.
16, '63.
Lathrop, Samuel, 26; Sept. 6, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; d. a prisoner
Feb. 15, '65, Danville, Va.
Lee, John, 19; Feb. 3, '64, 3d Cong. Dist; Feb. 3; deserted Feb.
14, '64.
Lewis, Benjamin, 18; Aug. 15, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; dis. March
3, '64.
Lewis, Hiram, 44; Jan. 2, '64, Sodus; Jan. 4; dis. June 15, '65.
Livingston, Abner H., 21; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year;
dis. June 24, '65.
Lock, Edwin, 29; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lockwood, Norman A., 24; Dec. 20, '63, Ledyard; Dec. 30; dis.
July 29, '65, Elmira. Veteran.
Luplow, Carl, 29; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lybolt, Alonzo, 23; Dec. 21, '63, Forestburg; Dec. 21; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lybolt, Archibald, 21; Dec. 20, '63, Darien; Dec. 20; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Lybolt, Lewis A., 20; Dec. 21, '63, Forestburg; Dec. 21; dis. May
29, '65, hospital, Washington.
Lyons, Elias, 23; Aug. 31, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Artificer, no
date; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McCray, John, 29; Sept. 10, '64, Sheldon; Sept. 10, 1 year; dis.
June 16, '65.
McDonald, John, 20; Aug. 22, '64, Avon; Aug. 22; dis. June
18, '65.
Mcintosh, Angus, 24; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; wd. Sept.
19, '64; Corp., no date; dis. July 25, '65.
McManus, Thomas, 21; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
McMillen, Archibald, 23; Aug. 30, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Manney, Barney W., 20; Dec. 31/63, Forestburg; Dec. 31; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Manney, James H, 24; Dec. 31, '63, Forestburg; Dec. 31; wd.
Cedar Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Manney, Thomas J., 18; Dec. 31, '63, Forestburg; Dec. 31; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Marcellus, Alva; 31; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 3, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; M. O., June 24, '65,
Marsh, Joseph, — ; Sept. 2, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Corp., Sept
16, '64; dis. Julv 25, '65.

COMPANY M. 587
Mellon, Morris, 35; Dec. 28, '63, Gerry; Dec. 29; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Mellon, Proctor, 23; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year; d.
June 22, '65, hospital.
Meredith, Marion F., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Corp.,
June 12, '63; dis. July 6, '65.
Millard, John B., 24; Dec. 14, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; k. July 9, '64,
Monocacy.
Miller, David, 21; Aug. 30, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Miller, William, 22; Dec 28, '63, 29th Cong. Dist.; Dec 28; wd.
at Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Minturn, William, 25; Aug. 30, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year;
prisoner Dec. 31, '64; dis. June 21, '65.
Moore, Jacob, 25; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; d. Oct. 22, '64,
from wounds received at Cedar Creek.
Moore, William F., 19; Jan. 5, '64, Darien; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Morgan, Israel, 33; Dec. 13, '63, Lyons; Dec. 28; dis. June 16, '65.
Moses, Francis S., 18; Feb. 22, '64, Caneadea; Feb. 22; wd. Cold
Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Moses, Lafayette, 19; Feb. 22, '64, Caneadea; Feb. 23; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Moulton, Albert H, 18; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Corp.,
March 28, '63; trans. Jan. 10, '64, Signal Corps.
Moulton, Edward F., 20; Aug. 20, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28;
Sergt., Oct. 16, '63; trans. April 9, '64, Signal Corps.
Moulton, William M., 25; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis.
Jan. 26, '64.
Moxon, Artemas. 29; Dec. 30, '63, Bennington; Dec. 30; trans.
June 27, '65,'2d N. Y. H. A. Vet. Co. D, 14th N. Y. Vols.
Munger, Lucius A., 20 ; Aug. 29, '62, Bergen ; Oct. 28 ; trans. Jan.
18, '64, Signal Corps.
Munt, John, 32; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; dis. June 6, '65.
Newland, Rial, 42; Dec. 21, '63, 29th Cong. Dist.; Dec. 21; a
veteran railroad man, he was detailed April 11, '64, and
served the government as railroad engineer; dis. May 21,
'65.
Nichols^ Moses, 24; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Corp., Oct.
19, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Nulty, Henry, 34; Aug. 14, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28, Corp.; Sergt,
April 5, '63; dis. May 25, '65.
O'Donnell, Michael, 24; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 18; Corp.,
Oct. 16, '63; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Oldswager, John, 26; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28, Corp.;
1st Sergt, June 10, '63; promoted 2d Lieut.
Paden, Thomas W., 28; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; Sergt,
no date; k. Oct. 19, '64, Cedar Creek.
Parish, Francis N., 28; Aug. 5, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28, Q. M. Sergt;
dis. Jan. 21. '64.

588 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Parrish, William I., 27; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28, Sergt.;
promoted 2d Lieut.
Patrick, Corydon M., 19; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Peard, John J., 19; Sept. 5, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; Sergt, June 7,
'65; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.; M. O. 2d Lieut
Pearsall, Levi, 20; Aug. 30, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; M. O., July 6, '65.
Peck, George W., 29; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Pelton, Stephen, 36; Jan. 13, '64, Sterling; Jan. 15; no M. O.
Peters, Hugh T., 18; Sept. 4, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; Sergt, no
date; dis. April 19, '64.
Pitkins, David, 31; Sept. 2, '64, Albany; Sept. 2, 1 year; prisoner
Dec. 31, '64, Petersburg; M. O., July 6, '65.
Plant, Robert, 43; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; dis. June 6, '65.
Pollock, John P., 18; Sept. 13, '64, Albany; Sept. 13; dis. May
31, '65, hospital.
Pond, Edson H., 25; Aug. 29, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28, Musician;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Porter, James, 18; Aug. 21, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Porter, Nelson, 42; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus;- Sept. 6, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek ; d. May 1, '65, hospital, City Point.
Pulver, Jacob, 27; Dec 18, '63, Lyons; Dec. 29; dis. May 31, '65.
Putnam, Norman M., 25; Sept. 5, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Quick, Oscar, 18; Dec. 26, '63, Oswego; Jan. 5; trans. June 27,
'65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Randolph, William H, 22; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; wd.
Cold Harbor; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rhinehart, Cornelius, 43; Jan. 5, '64, Forestburg; Jan. 5; trans.
April 25, '65, 116th Co., 2d Bat., V. R. C.
Rice, Lyman, 42 ; Jan. 5, '64, Darien ; Jan. 5 ; trans. June 27, '65,
2d N. Y. H. A.
Rich, Alonzo, 19; Aug. 15, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rich, Ambrose, 25; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; d. Jan. 5, '65,
hospital.
Rich, Mortimer, 18; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Richards, Frederick, 36; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Richmond, Sidney, 24; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; dis. May
23, '65.
Robertson, George, 31; Dec. 21, '63, Butler; Dec. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Rosecrants, Eli F., 21; Jan. 4, '64, Springport; Jan. 9; prisoner
July 9, '64, Monocacy; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.

COMPANY M. 589
Royce, Day, 22; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year; prisoner
Dec. 31, '64, Petersburg; M. O., July 6, '65.
Rumsey, Nathan E., 18; Sept. 6, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; wd. June
22, '64; deserted Feb. 1, '65.
Ryan, John, 23; Feb. 3, '64, 3d Cong. Dist; Feb. 3; wd. Cedar
Creek; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Schiller, John D., 25; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Sergt.,
Oct. 12, '63; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shadbolt, Edwin, 26; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; Corp.,
July 1, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shader, Gilbert, 43; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; trans. Jan.
22, '64, 22d Co., 2d Bat, V. R. C.
Shafer, Henry, 35; Sept. 3, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; dis. Mar. 21, '63.
Shaw, Edsel, 21; Aug. 29, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Shepard, Charles, — ; Jan. 25, '64, Fort Corcoran; Jan. 25; dis.
Aug. 26, '65, Elmira. Veteran.
Sherman, John J., 30; Dec 19, '63, Huron; Jan. 4; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Sleeper, Joseph A., 35; Dec. 29, '63, 29th Cong. Dist.; Dec. 29;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smead, Charles E., 18; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Edward B., 18; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Smith, Wallace M., 18; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; dis. June
22, '65.
Spoor, George D., 19; Sept. 19, '64, Albany; Sept. 19, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Spring, David S., 18; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct 28; dis. June
9, '65.
Stephens, John D., 27; Sept. 30, '64, Rochester; Sept. 30, 1 year;
deserted April 2, '65.
Stewart, Alexander C., 24; Dec. 30, '63, Springport; Dec. 30;
trans. Oct. 24, '64, 21st Co., 2d Bat., V. R. C.
Sturgess, Horton, 23; Jan. 3, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Tanger, Frederick, 29; Sept. 3, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Taylor, Stephen, 20; Aug. 31, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; Corp., Oct.
12, '63; Sergt., Dec. 21, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y.
H.A.
Thompson, Orville, 28; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; Corp.,
Sept., 4, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Thompson, Stephen, 44; Sept. 6, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; trans.
Jan. 22, '64, V. R. C.
Tripp, Joseph, 38; Aug. 31, '64, Venice; Sept. 1, 1 year; wd.
Cedar Creek; dis. June 16, '65.
Van Curan, Charles, 18; Aug. 14, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A. ; also borne as Van Buren.

590 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Vandenburg, Isaac, 31; Sept. 13, '64, Albany; Sept. 13, 1 year;
dis. June 14, '65.
Vandenburg, John, 19; Feb. 3, '64, 3d Cong. Dist; Feb. 3; de
serted Feb. 16, '64.
Van Hoesen, John P., 27; Sept. 19, '64, Albany; Sept. 19, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Vickers, Frederick, 41; Aug. 21, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; M. O.,
July 6, '65.
Vishion, Henry W., 21; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wade, Gilbert C, 18; Sept. 3, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Corp., June
5, '64; Sergt, Dec, 21, '64; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Waite, Daniel E., 25; Aug. 29, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28, Sergt.; dis.
Jan. 22, '64.
Walsh, Thomas, 34; Aug. 21, Alexander; Oct. 28, Corp.; Sergt.,
Feb. 22, '63; dis. March 27, '63.
Ward, Edwin, 40; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; Q. M. Sergt.,
June 12, '63; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Warren, John J., 28; Sept. 6, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; Corp., April
12, '64; dis. July 25, '65.
Webster, Peter, 37; Jan. 2, '64, 14th Cong. Dist.; Jan. 2; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Welsh, William, 44; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. Apr.
20, '64.
Wickers, Jonas C, 24; Sept. 6, '62, Darien; Oct. 28; trans. June
27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wilson, David, 23; Dec. 29, '63, Parma; Dec. 29; prisoner July
9, '64, Monocacy; d. Oct. 26, '64, Danville, Va.
Wilson, Samuel R., 32; Dec. 5, '63, Galen; Dec. 29; dis. May
15, '65.
Wing, Eugene B., 23; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28, Corp.;
Sergt, March 28, '63; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wing, Stephen P., 23; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wolfe, Frederick, 29; Dec. 29, '63, Livingston; Dec 29; wd.
Cedar Creek; d. Nov. 24, '64, hospital.
Worthington, John, 35; Aug. 12, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; Sergt.,
June 12, '63; trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Wright, William E., 20; Aug. 12, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28, Sergt.;
trans. June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Zweitsche, Christian, 29; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; trans.
June 27, '65, 2d N. Y. H. A.
Since Company M, as the 22d Independent Battery, came
into the Ninth Feb. 5, 1863, it is obvious that all members of the
battery who in any way severed their connection with the same
before the above date had no part with our regiment and should
not be included in our summaries, but for the sake of associa
tions their names and disposition are here given.

COMPANY M. 591
Edwin F. Clark, mustered as 2d Lieut., Sept. 4, '62, and by
special order No. 156, adjutant general's office, War De
partment, April 4, '63, his commission was revoked and he
was M. O. from date of M. I., having never reported for
duty.
Bailey, Freeman, 24; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; trans. Oct. 23, '62,
25th Ind. Bat.
Bassett, William P., 44; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; trans. Oct. 23, '62,
25th Ind. Bat.
Blood, Delos, 24; Aug. 14, '62, Batavia; deserted Oct. 3, '62;
that blood, though saved, was bad.
Bradley, Chris. W., 20; Aug. 29, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; dis. Jan.
17, '63, Washington.
Brown, Hezekiah, 27; Aug. 31, '62, Bergen; deserted Oct. 24, '62.
Brown, Miles T., 26; Aug. 15, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; deserted
Dec. 28, '62.
Bruette, Isaac, 32; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; trans. Oct. 23, '62,
25th Ind. Bat.
Canfield, Jerome, 34; Aug. 21} '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. Dec
23, '62.
Cole, William B., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; deserted
Jan. 1, '63; this Cole made a black mark.
Colt, Alva N., 19; Aug. 15, '62, Bethany; deserted Oct. 5, '62;
he needed breaking.
Conant, Orson H., 23; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; d. Jan.
13, '63, Fort Reno.
Covey, Diocletian, 33; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; deserted
Jan. 14, '63.
Dunn, James, 18; Aug. 30, '62, Bergen; dis. Oct. 22, '62.
Edwards, George, 40; Aug. 26, '62, Bergen; trans. 25th Ind. Bat.
Emery, James, 18; Aug. 31, '62, Batavia; trans. Oct. 23, '62, 25th
Ind. Bat.
Fairfield, Charles, 44; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; trans. Oct. 23,
'62, 25th Ind. Bat.
Ford, Ansel, 21; Aug. 29, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; d. Dec. 8, '62.
Fowler, Robert, 28; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; dis. Dec.
14, '62.
Gowing, Cyrus A., 20; Aug. 29, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; d. Nov.
20, '62.
Hatch, James G, 20; Aug. 13, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; dis. Dec.
25, '62.
Hill, David, 23; Aug. 29, '62, Bergen; deserted Sept. 23, '62; not
the subsequent governor, he deserts nothing.
Kellner, John, 25; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; d. Jan. 14, '63.
Kidder, James, 23; Aug. 30, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; dis. Jan.
7, '63.
Knapp, Silas, 19; Aug. 12, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28; d. Nov. 26, '62,
Camp Barry.
Kraetzer, Henry L., 21; Aug. 30, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; d. Dec.
5, '62, Camp Barry.

592 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Lawrence, George B., 20; Aug. 29, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; de
serted Oct. 15, '62.
Livingston, Henry, 26; Aug. 31, '63, Bergen; deserted Sept. 24,
'62.
Loomis, Irwin W., 22; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; de
serted Jan. 1, '63.
McDowell, Alexander C, 29 ; Aug. 9, '62, Bergen ; deserted Sept.
20, '62.
Maltby, William H., 23; Aug. 30, '63, Oakfield; Oct. 28; d. Nov.
24, '62.
Martin, Elias, 23; Aug. 31, '62, Batavia; trans. 25th Ind. Bat.
Rodgers, George, 18; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis. Jan.
31 '63.
Smith,' Charles A., 23; Aug. 30, '62, Oakfield; Oct. 28; d. Nov.
22, '62.
Tisdale, Homer L., 21; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; dis.
Jan. 9, '63.
Waite, James M., 18; Aug. 29, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28, 1st Sergt;
promoted, Dec. 28, '62, 2d Lieut., 5th N. Y. H. A.
West, Warren, 20; Aug. 19, '62, Batavia; Oct. 28; dis. Jan.
31, '63.
Williams, John W., 18; Aug. 2, '62, Bergen; Oct. 28; d. Dec.
5, '62.
Wood, Henry, 22; Aug. 13, '62, Bethany; Oct. 28, Artificer; d.
Dec. 27, '62.
Wright, Walter I., 24; Aug. 21, '62, Alexander; Oct. 28; d. Nov.
30, '62. Unassigned Recruits.
The following names are borne on the government rolls as
unassigned to companies. Except in certain instances there is
no record of muster-out. Consequently the data give only names,
ages and muster-in facts. Very likely some names are on the
company rolls in some varying form, thus changed through the
carelessness of clerks.
The adjutant general's report, 1868, has the name of 2d Lieu
tenant Vincent "Agnet," commissioned Feb. 11, '63, with rank
from Dec. 30, 1862, not mustered. Considerable research de
velops the facts that his name was Vincent Eugene Agnel, a
son of Hyacinth R. Agnel, from 1840 till long after the war
professor of French in West Point. Vincent E. was born in
West Farms, Westchester county, March 22, 1840; was educated
at the public schools of West Point, and by private tutors. He
went to New Orleans in the winter of 1862 as a private secretary
to General S. B. Holabird, and there died of typhoid fever, Mar.
28, '63. His body lies in West Point cemetery.
The adjutant general's report for 1897 has the name of A. P.
Crafts, commissioned assistant surgeon, Sept. 25, '62, not mus
tered.

unassigned recruits. 593
Also the same report bears the name of J. N. Knapp, mus
tered in as adjutant in Albany, Aug. 20, 1862, but was not com
missioned. No further record.
The same report has Edward Malone, commissioned assistant
surgeon Feb. 18, '65, not mustered.
Allen, Joshua, 38; March 10, '64, Troy; March 10.
Allen, Milton C, 18; Aug. 23, '64, Genoa; Aug. 23, 1 year.
Anderson, John, 20; March 3, '64, Brooklyn; March 3.
Baldwin, George, 23; May 18, '64, Galen; May 18.
Benedict, Joseph, 43; Sept. 20, '63, Avon; Sept. 20.
Berdelle, George, 22; Dec. 21, '63, Niles; Jan. 2, '64.
Berggren, Aden, 49; Jan. 11, '64, Cortland; Jan. 19.
Bowman, John B., 21; Jan. 4, '64, Auburn; Jan. 4.
Bowker, Jackson M., 18; Feb. 9, '64, Lansing; Feb. 9.
Boyd, William, 25; Feb. 27, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 29.
Boyle, John, 25; Aug. 31, '64, Albany; Sept. 1, 1 year.
Bradburn, Peter, 44; Sept. 3, '64, Camillus; Sept. 6.
Bradley, James, 23; Dec. 15, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 15.
Brennan, John, 22; Dec. 17, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 17.
Brenne, John, 25 ; Sept 5, '64, Aurelius ; Sept. 5, 1 year.
Bridenbacker, Jacob, 39 ; Jan. 6, '64, Troy ; Jan. 8.
Brooks, James P., 23; April 9, '64, New York; April 9.
Brown, Charles, 19; Aug. 29, '64, Auburn; Aug. 29, 1 year.
Brown, James S., 24; Feb. 27, '64, Onondaga; Feb. 29.
Brown, John, 30; Dec. 28, '64, Junius; Dec. 29.
Brown, John, 29; Dec. 14, '63, Galen; Dec. 15.
Brown, Thomas, 20; April 15, '64, Westmoreland; April 15.
Bruce, John, 19; Jan. 7, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 7.
Bukley, John, 40; Aug. 30, '64, Conquest; Aug. 30, 1 year.
Burke, William, 22; March 11, '64, New York; March 11.
Burletes, Henry, 32; Dec. 28, '63, Fayette; Dec. 29.
Butler, James, 23 ; Sept. 3, '64, Sennett ; Sept. 3, 1 year.
Butts, Alexander, Jr., 30; Jan. 9, '64, Smyrna; Jan. 9.
Calipe, William, 34; Sept. 3, '64, Albany; 1 year; M. O., May
7, '65.
Campbell, Henry, 35; Sept. 1, '64, Skaneateles; 1 year; Sept. 1.
Cannon, William W., 25; Sept. 6, '64, Albany; Sept. 21, 1 vear.
Carney, John, 28; Sept. 7, '64, Brooklyn; Sept. 7.
Carroll, Martin, 23; Dec. 15, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 15.
Carter, John S., 21; Dec. 14, '62, Albany; Dec. 14.
Case, Charles, 27; Dec. 31, '63, Galen; Jan. 2, '64.
Cassidy, William, 19; March 11, '63, Tully; March 11.
Chadwick, James, 36; Dec. 12, '63, Pembroke; Dec. 12.
Clark, Charles S., 18; Jan. 9, '64, Brooklyn; Jan. 9.
Clark, George A., 18; Dec. 14, '64, Albany; Dec 14,
Clark, James, 21; Dec 11, '64, Brooklyn; Dec. 14.
Clark, James S., 18; Aug. 20, '64, Dryden; Aug. 20, 1 year.
Clark, Thomas, 25; Sept. 6, '64, Auburn; Sept. 6, 1 year.
Clay, Frank H., 20; Sept. 13, '64, Avon; Sept. 13, 1 year.
38

594 NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Coleman, James, 38; Dec. 28, '63, Macedon; Dec. 29; Vet. Co. B,
160th N. Y.
Comstock, Alexander, 25; Dec. 21, '63, Brooklyn; Dec 21.
Comstock, Levi W., 18; Jan. 18, '64, Dewitt; Jan. 25.
Conger, Hoyt, 21 ; Dec. 14, '63, Waterloo; Dec. 21.
Conlon, John, 28; April 7, '64, Jamaica; April 7.
Connors, John, 19; April 15, '64, Utica; April 15.
Cook, Daniel, 21; Jan. 2, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5.
Cook, Edward, 44; Jan. 14, '64, Mexico; Jan. 14.
Cooley, Michael, 44; Jan. 1, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 4.
Cornwell, John T., 38; Jan. 9, '64, Macedon; Jan. 12.
Coupe, William W., 44; Sept. 2, '64, Albany; Sept. 9.
Coyle, John, 30; Sept. 23, '64, Tarrytown; Sept. 23, 1 year.
Cranson, Dexter, 44; Dec. 22, '63, Venice; Dec 22.
Crawford, Clarence, 18; Dec. 14, '63, Galen; Dec. 14.
Crawford, James D., 33; Jan. 4, '64, Bolivar; Jan. 4.
Cromwell, William A., 24; Dec. 16, '63, Macedon; Dec. 16.
Cross, Albert B., 29; Sept. 8, '64, Sodus; Sept. 8.
Crothey, Robert, 25; Sept. 3, '64, Scipio; Sept. 3.
Cune, Patrick M., 23; April 7, '64, Batavia; April 7.
Cutler, John, 21; March 24, '63, Brooklyn; March 24.
Dailey, Ezekiel L., 44; Dec. 29, '63, Lyons; Dec. 29.
Daly, John, 21; Sept. 15, '63, Sodus; Sept. 15.
Davidson, John, 35; Sept. 3, '64, Albany; Sept. 3; M. O., May
7, '65.
Deabson, William, 20; Dec. 22, '63, Bethel; Dec. 22.
Deming, Francis B., 18; Dec. 30, '63, Rose; Jan. 2, '64.
Derby, Milton, 33 ; Sept. 1, '64, Huron ; Sept. 5, 1 year. Had been
in 44th and 105th N. Y.
Dillen, John, 22; Dec. 21, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 21.
Dixon, James, 22; Nov. 23, '63, Brooklyn; Nov. 23. Vet Co. K,
16th Va. Vols.
Doodey, John, 19; Nov. 24, '63, Brooklyn; Nov. 24.
Doumb, George, 22; Oct. 14. '64, New York; Oct. 14.
Doyle, Arthur, 25; Dec. 30, '63, Wolcott; Dec. 30.
Doyle, John, 18; March 15. '64, Richland; March 15.
Downey, Robert, 44; Aug. 30, '64, Oswego; Aug. 30; M. O., July
27, '65.
Dunmore, James, 24 ; Jan. 1, '64, Auburn ; Jan. 4.
Early, William, 24; Dec. 12, '63, Brooklyn; Dec 14.
Edick, William P., 32; Jan. 21, '64, Geddes; Jan. 21.
Edwards, William, 21; Dec. 14, '63, Auburn; Dec. 14.
Elliott, Printis, 53; Jan. 1, '64, Harford; Jan. 1.
Emerick, Joshua, 38; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Jan. 2, '64.
Evans, Daniel, 23; Dec. 9, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 9.
Evers, James, 23; Dec. 12, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 14.
Fellows, Thomas, 24; Feb. 29, '64, Washington; Feb. 29.
Field, Horace, 18; Jan. 29, '64, Sodus; Jan. 29.
Flynn, David, 22; Dec. 7, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 7.

unassigned recruits. 696
Foster, George T., 24; Sept. 3, '64, Galen; Sept. 3, 1 year.
Foster, James P., 44; Dec. 19, '63, Butler; Dec. 28.
Foster, Paul, 23; Feb. 24, '64, Windham; Feb. 24.
Freer, Isaac, 21; Jan. 5, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 5.
French, Peter, 31; Jan. 2, '64, Auburn; Jan. 5.
Frysat, Joseph, 31; Jan. 26, '64, Wolcott; Jan. 26.
Gaffey, James, 32; Dec. 18, '63, Auburn; Dec 31.
Gardner, Adolphus, 18; Dec 30, '63, Palmyra; Jan. 2.
Gay, Lawrence, 24; Jan. 1, '63, Palmyra; Jan. 2.
Genthner, Charles, 18; Dec 31, '63, Lyons; Jan. 4.
George, James, 32; Sept. 1, '64, Albany; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
May 7, '65.
Gilhuley, James, 44; Aug. 31, '64, Conquest; Sept. 1, 1 year;
M. O., July 6, '65.
Glenn, Frank, 23; Dec. 7, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 7.
Goodnow, Washington, 27; Aug. 30, '64, Auburn; Aug. 30.
Goodrich, Ephraim, 44; Dec. 23, '63, Butler; Dec. 29.
Gotham, Brainard C., 19; Jan. 16, '64, Russia; Jan. 18.
Gray, Walter S., 21 ; Nov. 24, '63, Brooklyn ; Nov. 24.
Hall, Isaac, 18; Jan. 7, '64, Salina; Jan. 7.
Hamilton, James, 35; Aug. 1, '64, Lyons; Aug. 1.
Haskell, Daniel, 42; Dec. 28, '63, Aurelius; Dec. 28.
Hawkins, Elizner, 29; Aug. 28, '64, Ira; Aug. 29.
Haywood, Alfred, 24; Dec. 26, '63, Sodus; Dec 29.
Heady, Lewis, 19; Dec. 29, '63, Sempronius; Dec. 29.
Henry, John, 20; Jan. 21, '64, Elbridge; Jan. 21.
Herrington, James S., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Auburn; Jan. 4.
Hitchcock, George W., 30; Dec. 26, '63, Macedon; Dec. 28.
Holcomb, Charles R., 20; Jan. 22, '64, Victory; Jan. 22.
Holden, James, 23; April 7, '64, Jamaica; April 7.
Horn, Charles V., 21; Dec. 14, '63, Rose; Dec. 15.
Houser, Charles L., 19; Sept. 3, '63, Dryden; Sept. 3.
Howard, John, 44; Jan. 6, '63, Clay; Jan. 6; had served in Co. I,
149th N. Y. Vols.
Hoye, Francis, 26; Aug. 31, '64, Albany; Sept. 7.
Hyde, John, 23; Sept. 6, '64, Auburn; Sept. 6, 1 year.
Inorgan, David, 18; Dec. 9, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 9.
Ireland, William W., 19; Jan. 8, '64, Lyons; Feb. 11.
Jennings, Charles H, 31; Sept. 24, '63, Lyons; Feb. 24, '64.
Johnson, Hogan, 28; Jan. 15, '64, New York; Jan. 15.
Johnston, John, 32; Dec. 16, '63, Galen; Dec. 29.
Jones, James, 23; March 11, '64, New York; March 11.
Jones, Samuel I., 42; Dec. 26, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 26.
Kane, John, 24; March 11, '64, New York; March 11.
Kinney, Joseph, 22; Dec. 29, '63, New Haven; Dec 29.
Kramer, George, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Brooklyn; Jan. 4.
Larkins, John, — ; March 15, '64, Richland; March 15.
Lavey, James, 20; March 3, '64, Brooklyn; March 3.
Leonard, Charles R., 29; Jan. 28, '64, Cortland; Jan. 28.

596 ninth new york heavy artillery.
Little, Isaac, 44; Jan. 5, '64, Skaneateles; Jan. 5; had served in
Co. F, 160th N. Y. Vols.
Loaf man, James, 19 ; March 9, '64, Troy ; March 9.
Logan, John, 21; Dec 4, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 4.
Lusk, William, 19; Feb. 23, '64, Troy; Feb. 23.
Lyman, Charles, 23; Nov. 24, '63, Brooklyn; Nov. 24.
Lyman, Joseph, 19; Nov. 24, '63, Brooklyn; Nov. 24.
Lyons, John, 22; Nov. 24, '64, Brooklyn; Nov. 24.
McCarty, Patrick, 41; Dec. 28, '63, Syracuse; Dec. 28.
McVicar, John D., 24; Jan. 1, '64, Lyons; Jan. 4.
Madder, John, 25; Dec. 15, '63, Aurelius; Dec. 30.
Mahany, Dennis, 19; Feb. 3, '64, Brooklyn; Feb. 3.
Mann, Asa D., 43; Dec. 22, '63, Venice; Jan. 2, '64.
Manning, Albert, 30; Sept. 23, '64, Tarrytown; Sept. 23, 1 year.
Marshall, Henry S., 23; Jan. 4, '64, Geneva; Jan. 4.
Martin, Henry, 21; March 15, '64, Richland; March 15.
Martin, Thomas, 20 ; Sept. 1, '64, Auburn ; Sept. 2, 1 year.
Mead, William H, 44; Dec. 24, '63, Butler; Dec. 28.
Merritt, Edmund P., 43; Jan. 11, '64, Cortland; Jan. 13.
Milem, William, 41; Nov. 23, '63, Galen; Nov. 23.
Miller, Cornelius, 21; Dec. 14, '63, Rose; Dec. 29.
Miller, John B., 24; Dec. 26, '63, Galen; Dec. 29.
Miller, Proctor, 23; Aug. 29, '64, Moravia; Sept. 1, 1 year.
Miller, William A., 40; Feb. 12, '64, Syracuse; Feb. 12.
Miner, John, 31 ; Sept. 6, '64, Auburn ; Sept. 6, 1 year.
Moore, George, 23; Sept. 6, '64, Auburn; Sept. 6, 1 year.
Moore, Horatio E., 47; Feb. 8, '64, Virgil; Feb. 9.
Morgan, Ebenezer D., 20; Aug. 30, '64, Albany; M. O., May 7, '65.
Morgan, Henry J., 21; Dec. 9, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 9.
Mulligan, Dennis, 21; March 11, '64, New York; March 11.
Murney, Cornelius, 40; Dec. 23, Junius; Jan. 5, '64.
Murphey, Michael, 22; Dec. 15, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 15.
Murray, Bernard, 21; March 11, '64, New York; March 11.
Murray, Erastus, 45; Aug. 9, '64, Rose; Aug. 9, 1 year.
Myers, William A., 22; Sept. 1, '64, Auburn; Sept. 2, 1 year.
Nichols, John B., 25; Aug. 29, '64, Oxford; Aug. 29, 1 year.
North, Jesse, 42; Sept. 1, '64, Huron; Sept. 1, 1 year; M. O.,
Dec. — , '64.
Norton, Horace, 41; Dec. 30, '63, Schroeppel; Dec. 30.
Norton, Michael, 21; Dec. 12, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 12.
Nots, Thomas, 22; Sept. 6, '64, Auburn; Sept. 6, 1 year.
O'Keefe, Daniel, 19; Feb. 20, '64, Oswego; Feb. 20.
Overocker, George W., 18; Aug. 22, '64, Butler; Aug. 22, 1 year.
Parsons, David, 23; Aug. 31, '64, Ira; Aug. 31, 1 year.
Parsons, Stephen, 23; Aug. 9, '64, Savannah; Aug. 9.
Perry, Leonard J., 20; March 1, '64, Kingston; March 1.
Pettitt, Joseph, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Brooklyn; Jan. 4.
Potter, Byron, 28; Jan. 13, '64, Macedon; Jan. 15; M. O., July
8, '64.

unassigned recruits. 597
Potter, Charles, 25; Jan. 4, '64, Savannah; Jan. 4.
Potter, George W., 22; Nov. 21, '63, Oswego; Nov. 21.
Prentiss, James B., 19; Dec. 24, '63, Marion; Dec. 24.
Quinn, James, 45; Dec. 28, '63, Macedon; Dec. 28.
Radway, Albert R., 25; Sept. 15, '64, Rochester; 1 year; M. O.,
May 9, '65.
Rains, John, 21; Sept. 6, '64, Auburn; Sept. 6, 1 year.
Rankins, William, 20; Feb. 27, '64, Mexico; Feb. 27.
Reardon, William, 21; March 3, '64, Brooklyn; March 3.
Reese, Philip, 18; Dec. 9, '63, Brooklyn; Dec 9.
Remington, Orlando, 44; Dec. 31, '63, Brutus; Dec 31.
Reyne, James, 30; Sept. 28, '64, Cohocton; Sept. 24.
Riley, Patrick, 20; Nov. 25, '63, Brooklyn; Nov. 25.
Riley, Philip, 23; Oct. 25, '64, Albany; Oct. 25, 1 year.
Ringley, Seth H, 20; Dec. 29, '63, Onondaga; Dec. 29.
Ritchey, James, 36; Jan. 27, '64, Auburn; Jan. 27.
Rogers, Thomas, 19; March 11, '64, Clay; March 11.
Rook, Martin, 20; Feb. 3, '64, Brooklyn; Feb. 3.
Rorke, John, 18; Feb. 3, '64, Brooklyn; Feb. 3.
Rosser, Garrett S., 20; Nov. 30, '63, Syracuse; Nov. 30.
Russell, Henry, 44; Dec. 21, '63, Mentz; Dec. 21.
Ryan, Morris, 32; Jan. 6, '64, Skaneateles; Jan. 6.
Ryan, Thomas, 20; Sept. 15, '63, Seneca Falls; Sept. 15.
Sanders, William, 20; Dec. 22, '63, Albany; Dec. 22.
Sayers, Henry, 26; March 1, '64, Troy; March 1.
Scanlon, Patrick, 30; Dec. 26, '63, Junius; Dec. 28.
Schmidt, Emil, 25; Nov. 9, '64, New York; Nov. 9.
Scholz, John, 18; Dec. 26, '63, Geddes; Dec. 26.
Schoonmaker, Alonzo, 18; Jan. 4, '64, Conquest; Jan. 4.
Seaman, Clinton, 22; Jan. 5, '64, Galen; Jan. 5.
Shaver, Merritt C, 22; Jan. 11, '64, Smyrna; Jan. 11.
Shaw, Richard B., 18; Jan. 4, '64, Groton; Jan. 4.
Sheppard, Arsey M., 21; Feb. 8, '64, Lyons; Feb. 11.
Sherman, John, 19; Jan. 21, '64, Onondaga; Jan. 21.
Shumway, Sylvester, 19; Aug. 13, '64, Troy; Sept. 2.
Sidman, James, 44; Sept. 1, '64, Conquest; Sept. 1, 1 year;
Sinclair, Manuel, 18; Aug. 20, '64, Sempronius; Aug. 22.
Slaven, James, 19; Dec. 9, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 9.
Smith, Amos H, 27; Aug. 9, '64, Savannah; Aug. 9.
Smith, Charles, 24; Dec. 21, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 21.
Smith, Emery W., 36; Dec. 28, '63, Harford; Dec. 28.
Smith, George, 21; April 15, '64, Rome; April 15.
Stetson, Jerome, 23; Dec. 31, '63, Otisco; Jan. 6, '64; M. O.,
May 7, '64.
Stravels, John, 24; Sept. 6, '64, Sodus; Sept. 6, 1 year.
Sullivan, Michael, 18; Feb. 8, '64, Enfield; Feb. 8.
Swain, Thomas, 20; March 3, '64, Brooklyn; March 3.
Sweet, Michael M., 40; Dec. 22, '63, Galen; Dec. 29.
Tafft, Frank F., 27; Sept. 3, '64, Venice; Sept. 3.

598 ninth new york heavy artillery.
Thompson, Edward, 46; Sept. 22, '63, Montezuma; Dec. 30.
Thompson, Orson, 18; Dec. 22, '63, Dewitt; Dec. 22.
Thorp, Thomas, 19; Sept. 1, '64, Auburn; Sept. 1, 1 year.
Thurston, James, 20; Dec. 31, '63, Syracuse; Dec 31.
Tripp, Morton F., 16; Feb. 22, '64, Rose; dis. April 20, '64, Fort
Baker.
Turner, Charles, 21; Nov. 24, '63, Brooklyn; Nov. 24.
Tuttle, Peter, 40; Jan. 13, '64, Syracuse; Jan. 13.
Utter, George N., 20; Sept. 13, '64, Sodus; Sept. 14, 1 year.
Van Guilder, Henry A., 18; Sept. 2, '64, Auburn; Sept. 1, 1 year.
Waldron, Waland, 18; Jan. 25, '64, Marcellus; Jan. 25.
Webber, Charles S., 24; March 10, '64, Troy; March 10.
Weed, James, 21; Dec. 4, '63, Brooklyn; Dec. 4.
Wilber, Austin, 20 ; Jan. 4, '64, Lincklaen ; Jan. 6.
Whitney, Isaac, 28; Dec. 10, '63, Lyons; Dec. 10.
Wilkinson, Philester, 41; Sept. 2, '64, Wolcott; Sept. 2, 1 year.
Williams, Edward, 19; April 15, '64, Augusta; April 15; Vet.
Co. D, 2d N. Y. A.
Wilsey, Francis, 24; Dec. 29, '63, Sullivan; Dec. 29.
Wilson, James, 26 ; Sept. 3, '64, Somerset ; Sept. 3.
Worrall, Charles, 21; Dec. 15, '63, New York; Dec. 15.
Wright, Ensign, 32; Dec. 21, '63, Galen; Dec. 21.

TABLE OF AGGREGATES.

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Original Field and
Staff,
14
2
1
2
Company A.
Officers,
13
1
2
1
1
Enlisted Men,
308
25
8
16
47
19
3
49
7
57
21
Company B.
Officers,
9
1
1
1
1
Enlisted Men,
206
22
1
9
24
7
11
34
7
22
3
Company C.
Officers,
16
2
Enlisted Men,
220
22
11
19
37
21
45
6
26
4
Company D.
Officers,
14
1
1
Enlisted Men,
230
12
9
9
20
23
1
44
11
34
9
Company E.
Officers,
13
2
2
1
2
Enlisted Men,
244
28
4
22
20
10
1
44
10
27
9
Company F.
Officers,
13
1
1
Enlisted Men,
246
12
1
7
15
2
1
58
13
20
36
Company G.
Officers,
12
Enlisted Men,
224
9
1
17
18
3
1
43
9
9
5
Company H.
Officers,
Enlisted Men,
9
250
16
3
12
23
12
12
6
12
20
Company I.
Officers,
12
1
Enlisted Men,
212
6
1
12
11
2
1
78
9
10
10
Company K.
Officers,
9
1
3
1
Enlisted Men,
234
30
5
26
22
24
40
5
15
18
Company L.
Officers,
8
1
2
Enlisted Men,
200
7
1
13
15
5
1
91
6
18
14
Company M.
Officers,
10
1
2
2
Enlisted Men,
236
10
2
9
25
12
1
98
16
14
7
2962
206
48
173
290
142
21
678
106
264
156
Adding 244 unassigned recruits, and deducting 32 for officers,
named twice, the final aggregate is 3,174; but the number 2,962 rep
resents those who made the record for the regiment.
INDEX.

N. B. — The following list contains the proper names of the text, with
topics and the names of officers that are not arranged alphabetically in
the rosters. In the tables of survivors and in the regimental roster all
non-commissioned officers and privates are arranged in strictly alphabet
ical order.

Abatis,Abbey, A. M.,
Acker, Cyrus,
A Company,
Adams, Col. A. D.,
Africans and gunpowder,
Aged negro,
Agnel, V. A.,
Aiken's Landing,
Ainsworth, Col.,
Albaugh, John,
Alden, L. W.,
Alexander, Capt. B. S.,
Alexander's Battery,

Page. 227
409, 482, 580 482
118, 124 132
250 108
592 358 4
492
15, 481, 482
297 128

Alexandria, Allen, James,
Allen, J. M.,
Allen, W. E.,
Alpeter, George H.,
Amelia Court House,
Ames, J. F.,
Anderson, J. H.,
Andrews, Alvin,
Annapolis, Antietam,
Appomattox,
Appomattox Court House,
Appomattox river,
Aqueduct Bridge,
Aqueduct road, Guarding,
"Araby,"
Arlington Heights,
Army calls,
Arnold, Alonzo,
Ashby's gap,
39

58, 61, 63, 66, 81, 82
57

482
78, 516
6, 189
231. 232 33
301 433360
26, 30, 31, 34, 125
219
237, 240
110, 227 295 261301
28, 82 68
278
168, 322

Atlantic Monthly,
Atwood, A. J.,
Augur, Gen.,
Austin, H. K.,
Averili, Gen.,
Avery, B. L.,
Avery, Miss J. L.,
Awkward soldiers,

Page.
38, 42
471
60, 289 6
149
292, 368446 114

Babcock, H. B., 549
Bacon, G. W., 15, 49, 62, 92, 492, 515,
516
Bailey's cross-roads, 257
Baker, J. B., 482
Baldwin, Jonathan, 49
Ball, Col. William H., 90
Account of Cedar Creek, 173, 174
Ball and chain, 56
Ball's Bluff, 320
Ball's cross-roads, 257, 260
Baltimore, 25, 118, 122, 125, 134, 135,
136

Band, Brass,
Barbara Frietchie,
Barber, John A.,
Barless, R. C,
Barnard, Gen.,
Barnes, B. F.,
Barracks,Bartlett, Gen. W. F,
Barton, Gen.,
Barton, Lewis,
Bates, George W.,
Bathing facilities,
Battalion joins, 3d,

53, 88, 290
122, 124 1S9
292
58, 60, 298, 299 457
49, 60
311235
455, 493 292 260 156

602

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Page.

Page.
Battery Cameron,
261
Bowles, J. A.,
550
Kemble,
261
Bowen, Alonzo,
120, 410
Lee,
215, 216
, 220, 222
Bowling Green,
87, 88
Parrott,
261
Braddock, Gen.,
125
Rossell,
158
Brandt, J. W.,
155, 455
Vermont,
56, 261
Bread-making,
321
Battery tips over,
125
Breakfast call,
68
Bayard, Gen.,
298
Breaking midday naps,
67
B Company, 50, 57, 69,
76, 129,
137, 156,
Breaking the lines,
223
218
"Break ranks,"
264
Beans,
34
Breastwork making, 101,
104,
105, 110,
Beardsley, William C,
10
111
Becker, D. D.,
549
Breckinridge, Gen.,
128, 318
Bedbugs at Reno,
160
Bridge, burning of,
128
Strong,
266
Brigade proposed, 3d,
210
Beecher, H. W.,
22,
103, 209
Brigade review,
218
Belgian rifles,
22
Brightwood,
299
Bell, James,
185
Brinkerhoff, G. W., 5, 118,
235,
369, 410,
"Belle Brandon,"
292
457
Belle Grove House,
172, 185
Briscoe's cove,
367
Belle Isle,
251
Brock, C. J.,
78
Belle .flain,
82, 8;
i, 88, 205
Broiling steak,
203
Bermuda Hundred,
108
Brower, A. W.,
411
Berryville,
142,
145, 146
Brown, Guy A., 226,
455.
456, 580
Between the lines,
283
Brown, Rev. L. W.,
132
Bible class, 17.
, 23, 32,
167, 174
Brown, M. W.,
16, 580
Bidwell, Gen. D. B.,
193
Browning quoted, Mrs.,
284
Bigelow, L. H,
212,
226, 559
Brownlow, "Parson,"
23
Big spring,
321
Brown's raid, John,
140, 142
Billings, Col. J. D.,
6
Buchanan, Capt.,
197
Bird song in battle,
98
Bucktails,
97
Bishop, E. A.,
409
Bull, A. H,
411
Bivens, James,
456
Burgess, Charles, 15, 18, 7S
1, 96,
106, 12S,
Bixby, A. J.,
340
152, 157, 163, 196,
454,
515
Black Diamond,
561
Burke, M. B.,
15, 482
Bladensburg,
36, 55
Burke, O. G.,
482
Blair, Montgomery,
319
Burksville,
240
Blakeley, John,
100
Burton, Hiram,
411
Blanket tossing,
258
Burton, Reuben, 129, 307,
320,
368, 411,
Blisters,
320
472, 549
Bodies near surface, Dead,
214
Butcher arrested,
156
Bolivar Heights,
146, 161
Butler, Gen. B. F,
109
Bone carving,
339, 340
Books,
4(
i, 79, 340
Cady, Egbert,
100
Booth, Wilkes,
87
Cake peddler, The,
161
Bostler, Conrad,
273
Cale, S. V. R.,
559
Bottume, E. W.,
413
Calkins, Ezra,
527
Bovee, W. H,
34
Campbell, R. M.,
15, 457
INDEX.

603

Page.

]

Page.

Camp Bunker Hill,

31, 34

Clark, E. J.,

16
Camp Chase,
27, 34, 82
Clarksburg,
139,
317
Camp-fare,
39
Clay, H. de B.,
18
Camp Halleck, 14,
17, 26, 286
Clay, Henry,
94
Camp Morris,
40, 44
Clendennin, D. R.,
123
Camp Nellie Seward,
36
Clifton,
143
Camp scene,
165
Clippard,
339
Cannon buried,
241
Clothing thrown away,
83
Cannon for Early,
192
Clover station,
24S
Captain and his horse,
70
Clow, George E.,
559
Captain and the mule,
41
Cobb, Alton E.,
.414
Capital of Virginia,
251
Coffin and whiskey,
63
Capitol in Washington,
26
Cold Harbor, 44, 9£
i, 96-107,
278
Capture and escape, My,
307-309
Cole, William N.,
432
Card-playing under fire,
102
Coleman, Dr.,
243
Caroline county,
87
Coleman, Lyman,
182;
,281
Carpenter, 0. B.,
179, 493
Colligan, John,
6
Carroll, Charles,
135
Petersburg picket-line.
210
Casterline, J. B.,
412
Colonel declines to move,
The,
113
Cater, Charles,
361
Colonel's wife, The,
269
Catoctin mountains,
125
Colvin, S. T.,
132,
537,
538
Cavanaugh, Mary,
419
Company funds,
61
Cedar Creek, 143, 169, :
170-194, 277
Company Q,
147
Losses at,
192
Comstock, L. C, 367, 455,
456,
482,
549
Numbers at,
193
Condemned horse,
80
After the battle,
194
Confederacy, Last capital
of,
246
Cedarville,
143
Confederate prices,
87
Chaddock, T. J.,
412, 527
Conklin, Benson,
458
Chain bridge, 39,
40, 53, 260
Conklin, Gilbert,
482
Chamberlain, Surgeon D. S.
, 58, 130,
Connecticut 1st H. A.,
81
278, 370, 413, 455
2d H. A.,
98,
loe,
. 138
Chambersburg,
38, 140
17th Infantry,
39
Chance to pray, A,
279
Conny's expense,
43
Chantilly,
36
Cook, William,
549
Chapel, George E.,
482
Cooking,
56,
114,
166
Charge near Petersburg,
111-113
Coombs, William H.,
414
Charles City Court House,
108
Coonan, A.,
471
Charlestown,
142, 145
Cooper shop,
24:
,272
Charlottesville,
329
Corbett, Boston,
87
Chase, Salmon P.,
28, 54, 60
Cornwell, Selah,
15
;, 40
, 503
Chesterfield church,
92
Corpse for bed-mate,
119
Chevaux de frise,
227
Corse, Gen.,
235
Chevrons and stripes,
218
Cottrell, Phoebe J.,
418
Chickahominy river,
108
Counterfeit bill,
354
Christmas,
47, 48, 209
Covell, Mrs. C. H.,
349
Chronicle, Washington,
50
Cowell, Charles,
482
City Point,
Qark, E. F,
108
Crafts, A. P.,
592
591
Crane, J. L., 15
,49,
414,
, 537
604

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Page.

Page.
Craw, Lafayette,
93
Dewitt, Byron,
370, 455
Craw, Morris,
93
Dinkle farm,
151
Crawford, Thomas,
252
Diphtheria,
344
Crittenden, J. T.,
456, 472
Discharge papers,
62
Crook, Gen.,
149, 153
District of Columbia,
138
Crowfoot, Charles F.,
292
Dix, Gen. John A,
391
Crowley, Dennis, youngest member
Dongus, Edward,
187
of the Ninth,
582
Doxology,
291
Cuba,
59
Dress coats,
261
Cumberland,
121
Drummer ashore,
63
Currie, Col.,
197
Duckett, W. G., 6, 307,
320,
417, 456
Custer, Gen.,
146,
153, 407
Dudley, H. A,
100
Cyclone,
267
Dudrow, Capt.,
179
DuflBe, Alfred N., 197,
198,
343, 357
"D," the letter,
338
Dunning, E. P.,
6, 310
Dame, Rev. George W.,
248,
344, 345
Dutchman, A wounded,
281
Damon, Capt. G. B.,
130
Dutchman's speech,
35
Dancing in camp,
269
Daniels, R. L.,
504
Early, Gen., 131, 134, 138,
139,
140, 145,
Dan river,
244
151, 168, 170
Danville, March to,
243, 245
Cedar Creek,
191
Capital of Virginia,
247, 333
Eastern branch,
65, ',
16, 77, 80
Prison in, etc.,
331
E Company,
129, 134
Danville raid,
240
Edenburg,
162
Danville Register,
244
Edminster, D.,
482
Danville to Richmond,
350
Edwards, Oliver,
106, 175
Davenport, Mr.,
145
Edward's Ferry,
136
Davidson, Sutler,
49
Eighteenth Corps,
99
Davis, Albert J.,
416
Eighth Corps, 137..
, ±49,
170, 173
Davis, Capt. G. E.,
6
Election days,
41
L, 60, 199
Davis, President, and Cabinet,
243, 247,
Ellicott City,
135
313
Ellis, James H,
134,
456, 504
Dawes, Gen.,
194
Elmendorf, J. O,
458
Dawsonville,
308
Elmira,
262, 363
Day's programme,
64, 67
Emancipation Proclamation,
33
Dead horses,
93
Emerson, Ralph W.,
51
Dead March in Saul,
292
Endurance,
101
Dean, John E.,
370,
414, 456
Escapes,
313, 343
Debates with enemy,
326
Ewell, Gen. R. S.,
234, 235
D Company, 61,
, 62,
134, 136
Exchange,
358
Deer shot,
61
Delavan House,
21
Failing, J. F.,
370,
417, 456
Deserters, Rebel,
216
Fairfax Court House,
257
Desertions,
264
Fairfax Seminary,
81, 82
Forgiven,
265
Falmouth,
84
Deuel, Walter,
6, 415
Families present,
66
De Voe, J. H,
6,
, 221, 415
Farmville,
236, 240
Devoe, S T., 60, 169, 221,
370,
416, 456
F Company,
70, 95, 104
INDEX.

605

Page.
"Featherbed soldiers," 237
Fenton, Governor, 418
Fifth Corps, 206, 222
Fifth Corps badge, 91
Fighting experience, 188
Finley, Robert, 580
Finnegan's wake, 259
First bullet, 98
First death, 30, 273
First picket duty, 35
First skirmish drill, 54
First Thanksgiving, 42
Firth, William H., 516
Fish, Chauncey, 5, 12, 54, 78, 88, 126,
128, 129, 151, 190, 203, 221, 235,
417, 471, 472
Fish, Myron, 151
Fish, Thomas, 418
Fisher's Hill, 143, 153, 155, 169, 172
Fitch, Allen, 419
Fitch, Cyrus E., 419
Fitch, George, 419
Fitch, Irving, 419
Fitzpatrick, J. W., 571
Flag of truce, 103, 216, 221
Flags of the Ninth, 286
Deposited in Albany, 287
Flag-staff breaks, 63
"Flanking above," 116
Flannery, C, 221
Flies, 335
Flower, B. L., 455
Flynn, Dennis, 15, 92, 179, 419, 559
Follett, A. H, 102
Follett, H. W., 15, 481, 482
Following the Greek cross, 107
Food from home, 40
Food prices, 158, 166, 199, 202, 209
Food troubles, 268
Foot cavalry, 2,89
Foote, Commodore, 60
Foote, O. A., 559
Foraging, 137, 163, 164, 169, 199, 202,
203, 204, 243, 247
Ford, Charles A, 6, 177, 283, 420
Fording Potomac, 137, 310, 320
Forney, John W., 50
Forts Allen, Ethan, 59, 266; Albany,

Page.
28; Baker, 78, 80; Berry, 81;
Bunker Hill, 30, 36
Fort Bayard, 51, 53, 66, 70, 273, 298
Forts Carroll, 78; Corcoran, 295; Davis,
78; Dupont, 78; De Russey, 158;
Ellsworth, 297; Ethan Allen, 59,
266; Fisher, 210, 220
Fort Foote, 57, 60, 65, 78, 157, 205, 297,
299, 399, 401
Fort Gaines, 42, 47, 49, 51, 57, 66, 261,
298
Forts Garrische, 81; Greble, 78; Gregg,
220; Jackson, 27; Keene, 210
Fort Kearney, 35, 36, 38, 39, 157, 298
Forts Lyon, 58; McHenry, 196; Mahan,
78; Mahone (Damnation), 208
Fort Mansfield, 39, 40, 47, 49, 57, 66,
159, 298, 395, 397, 411
Forts Massachusetts, 298, 299; Meigs,
78; Pennsylvania, 298; Powhat
an, 59
Fort Reno, 40, 47, 49, 57, 61, 136, 157,
158, 159, 261, 298, 309, 395
Forts Reynolds, 81, 404; Rhode Island,
298; Richardson, 81, 404; Rick
etts, 78; Runyan, 27, 297; Scott,
81; Sedgwick (Hell), 208
Fort Simmons, 54, 56, 59, 61, 66, 76, 77,
157, 159, 298
Forts Slocum, 298; C. F. Smith, 266;
Snyder, 78; Stanton, 78; Stead
man, 219, 227
Fort Stevens, 158, 260, 297, 299, 308,
310, 319
Forts Strong, 266; Sumner, 160, 260,
298; Thayer, 160; Totten, 35, 261 ;
Wadsworth, 207, 210, 214; Wag
ner, 78; Ward, 81; Washington,
157, 205, 402; Welsh, 220
Fort building, 32, 37, 38, 44, 53, 55, 58
Forts about Washington, 295-300
Fortress Monroe, 121, 157
"For your coffee," 277
Foster, Charles, 292
Foster, Henry, 292
Foster, William, 293
Fowler, Henry, 396
Fox, Col. William F., 303

606

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Franklin, Gen. W. B., 303
Frederick City, 122, 124, 125, 128, 129,
135, 139, 140
Fredericksburg, 82, 84, 88, 256
Freeoff, P. R., 15, 35, 129, 146, 155, 219,
420, 549
French Princes, 393
Front, Reaching the, 85
Front Royal, 143, 145, 168, 169, 170
Frost, O. J., 6, 421
Fruit, 58, 60, 270
Frying hardtack, 200
Fuller, Squire, 482

Gabion,Gage, Barton,
Gage, Jesse,
Gamble, D. P.,
Gambrill's mill,
Gardening,
Garfield, J. A.,
Garrett, President J. W.,
Gatchell, H. M.,
Gatling gun,

227
293471421
126, 132, 302
237 445 123
301 109

G Company comes up, 89, 95, 104, 120,
157, 169
General shaking-up, 77
Geneva, 262
Georgetown, 36, 53, 76, 138
Gettysburg, 55
Gilmore, Gen. Q. A., 109
Girls and flags, 325
"Go in," 147
Goldsborough, E. Y., 6
"Good at running," 168
"Good morning," 320
"Go on, Jack," 13
Goose creek, 137
Goose for supper, 168
Gordon, Gen., 147, 149
G. A. R. Posts, 284, 285
Grandy, S. J., 527
Granger, M. M., 173, 174
Grant, Gen., 93, 101, 103, 107, 119, 138,
141, 147, 214, 231, 258
Order about deserters, 216
Gray, S. P., 210
Great Sodus bay, 367

Page.
Greenwood, W. E., 15, 421, 472
Gregory, T., 15, 23, 49, 84, 100, 421, 454,
471
Grover, Gen., 149, 193
Guarding Aqueduct road, 261
Guarding prisoners, 196
Guarding railroad, 248
Guinea station, 87, 88
Gurley, M. D., Henry, 117

Hagerstown,Hale, Killing of Mrs.,
Halifax Court House,
Hall, A. S.,
Halleck, H. W.,
Halltown, Hamilton,Hampden-Sidney College,
Hampton Institute,
Hampton Roads,
Hangings for desertion,
Hanna, M. A.,
Hanover Court House,
Hardin, Gen. M. D.,
Hardtack,
Hardtack scarce,
"Hardtack and Coffee,"
Harmon, Alfred,
Harmon, D. B., 15,
527, 537
Harmon, William,
Harper's Ferry, 37, 54,
145, 291
Harris, Private,
Harris, S. F.,
Cedar Creek,
Harrisonburg,Hart's island,
Harvey, T. S.,
Haskin, Gen. J. A.,
Hatcher's run,
Hat order,
Hawley, William,
Hays, Gen. John,
Hayes, Gen. R. B.,
Hayhoe, H.,
Haynes, Chaplain E. M.,
Headboards for graves,

124
273
243
248, 333
14, 252 139137
235 121121
209, 210, 219427 94
289 268 95 6
293, 421
132, 290, 421,
293, 421
122, 139, 141,
256, 261
6, 196, 549 187
156
272
422, 458
58, 289, 403216
217, 238
15, 503, 527357 177
189 6
249

INDEX.

607

Page.
Page.
H Company,
132,
156
Hurtubise, S. E.,
6
fie didn't put it in,
276
Cedar Creek,
184-187
He got left,
274
Hutchinson, John,
278
Heintzelman, Gen.,
54, 58,
, 289
Hyattstown,
139, 316
He lived,
282
Hyde, Harlow,
425
Henry, Col. W. W.,
124
Hyde, J. H., 5, 15, 18, 124, 166:
, 424, 457
Hermann, John,
152
Hyde, Thomas W.,
107, 244
He shot too close,
281
Hyde, Zenas,
424
Hiekok, W. F.,
293
Hill, Gen. A. P.,
226..
, 238
"I can no' charge,"
236
Hillhouse, Thomas,
14
"I can't get out,"
349
Hitchcock, W. J.,
458
I Company, 95, 104,
161, 250
Hoag, F. J., gets sword,
218
,472
Illinois 8th Cavalry,
123
Hoff, J. R.,
457:
, 504
Ingalls, J. J.,
445
Hoffman, B. F.,
422,
493
Inspections,
47
Hogg, Lieut. Col. George,
272
Irwin, Gen. R. B.,
193
Holabird, Gen. S. B.,
592
Holcomb, Almon,
504
Jackson, Andrew,
210
Holland, Sir Henry,
400
Jagger, D. E.,
94
Hollywood cemetery,
356
James river, 108,
119, 157
Home,
364
Jaquett, W. L.,
456
Home from prison,
350-366
Jefferson,
139
Homesickness,
56
Jersey Brigade,
145
Honey,
199
Jerusalem plank-road,
111, 115
Hooker, Chester,
482
Jewhurst, J. W., 16, 235,
537, 571
Horn, John W.,
90, 101,
, 107
Jim and his tormentors,
71
Horner, "Jim,"
103
Jimmy scared,
101
Horse-play,
43
John L. and the mice,
73
Horton, Clarence,
549
"Johnnies," why,
316
Horton, George S.,
450
Johnson, Andrew,
418
Hot bullet,
52
Johnston, Joseph E.,
247
Hough, C. W., 422,
456, 472,
516
Joke on the boys,
246
How he got out,
274
Julia,
46
Howard, H. P.,
6, 285,
286
July 4th,
117
Howard, Orson, 15, 180, 422, 503, 549
Howard, Gen. O. O., 269
Howe, Elias, 39
Howe, S. A., 6, 16, 56, 185, 262, 423, 570
Howell, V. R., 151
Hoxie, J. C, 471
Hudson, Pitts O., 293
Hughes, H, 15, 18, 19, 187, 549
Hundred-days men, 315
Hunt, Ralph, 424
Hunter, Gen., 141
Hunting creek, 58
Huntington, E. L., 6, 424
Kautz, Gen., 113
K Company, 179
Kearney, Philip, 36
Keifer, J. W., 90, 96, 107, 149, 150, 174,
220
Account of assault, April 2, 223
Sailor's Creek, 232, 241, 257
Farewell, 259, 262, 286, 306
Kellogg, Col., 100
Kenyon, V. A., 4, 6, 263, 370, 425, 455,
504
Cedar Creek, 190
Kershaw, Gen., 145, 146, 235
608

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Kevand, John,
Key, Francis Scott,
Kibbie, A. M.,
"Kingdom coming,"
King, Gen. A. E.,
Kirby, Mr.,
Kitching, Col. H,
Kitty Baker,
"Kitty Wells,"
Klumpp, George,
Knapp, George P.,
Knapp, J. D., 6,
Knapp, J. N.,
Knapsack, Contents of a,
Knowles, H. P., 15, 29, 48,
437, 455
Knox, C. E.,
Knoxville,

Page. 363 128 185117
302 135
159, 160, 193
347342
293
15, 559
426, 482, 537593
29, 79
370, 405, 426, 492313

Lafayette, 125
Lamont, Daniel, 289
Lamoreaux, S. B., 5, 15, 181, 198, 225,
226, 235, 264, 411, 426, 454, 515,
516
Landstreet, Col. W. T., 301
Lape, S. W., 493
L Company, 75, 80, 95, 104, 158, 207,
215, 220, 237, 264

Lee, Custis,

235

Lee, Fitz,

143, 145

Lee, Gen. R. E.,

103,

107, 138

Pursuit of,

230,

231, 262

Leesburg,

38, 137

"Left, left,"

274
Lent, C. D.,
427, 537
Letter writing,
276
Libby Prison,
210,
251, 352
Lice,
336, 347
Lincoln, President, 10, 33, 41, 119, 136,
158, 219
Assassinated, 241, 403
Litchard, A. W., 427
Littlejohn, Col. D. O, 441
Lockwood, W. H, 482
"Logan, Who is left to mourn for," 9
Long, A. K., 6, 274, 427
Long Bridge, 27, 295
Loveless, 250, 256
Low, Alvah,
Lowell, Charles R.,
Luray valley,
Lybolt, Arch.,
Lynchburg, Lyon, C. L.,
Lyon, Gen. Nat.,
Lyons, Lord,
Page. 293
153, 164, 193 145
428 329
2,492
15, 48,
34, 42
McCauseland, Gen., 140
McClennan, M. R., 90, 132
McDougal, Col. C, 93, 405
McDowell, Charles, 6
McBwaine, Rich., 235
Mclntyre, W. H, 482
Mack, Samuel R., 123
Mackenzie, Col. R. S., 193
McKinley, Major William, 177
McKnight, Michael, 210
McLean, Wilmer, 238
House, 239
McMaster, J. S., 527
McNulty, Michael, 429, 482
Mahan, Patrick, 343
"Mail to go out," 285
Maine 1st Heavy, 55, 84
Manchester, D., 504
Mann, Horace, 306
Mansfield, J. K. F, 33
Map Burksville to Danville, 249
Cedar Creek, 171
Cold Harbor, 97
Forts about Washington, 296
Monocacy, 127
Petersburg, 206
Pursuit of Lee, 229
Sailor's Creek, 233
Shenandoah valley, 144
Winchester, 148
March, Month of, 51, 63, 77
March, A rainy, 254
March to Danville, 243
Marcy, William L., 434
Marine Brigade, 234
Marshall, A. W., 472, 527
Marshall, David, 293
Marshall, Col. E. G., 261
Martin, J. L., 278
INDEX.

609

Page.
Page.
Martinets,
159
Moseby, Col. J. S.,
145, 197
Martinsburg,
145,
147, 157
Moulton, E. F.,
293
Marvin, J. H.,
6, 152
Mt. Carmel Church,
89
Marye's Heights,
85, 256
Mt. Crawford,
156
Maryland Brigade,
206
Mt. Olivet cemetery,
128
Maryland dairies,
126
Mt. Vernon,
82, 205, 402
Maryland 6th Infantry,
90,
101, 123,
Mudge, Charles,
428
173, 224
Mudge, Lewis,
428
Massachusetts 37th
Infantry,
106
Mudge, Seldon J.,
428
Massanuttan mountain, 145
Massie, Charles, 329
Mattapony river, 256
Mauk, J. W., 226
M Company, 135, 146, 179, 264
Joins, 50
Mead, Jud., 307
Meade, Gen., 93, 100, 119, 206, 307
Meade's station, 205
Mean trick, 50
Medbury, Mrs. J. L., 446
Meigs, John R., 197
Mellon, M., 130
Merrimac, Ram, 121
Merritt, Gen., 143, 149, 197, 234
Middletown, 143, 145
Miles, D. S., 25, 26
Miles, Gen. N. S., 219
Miles marched by the Ninth, 288
Milford station, 88
Milk lunch, 167
Miller, Elijah, 434, 439
Millwood, 169, 323
Monocacy, Battle, 121-134, 157, 278, 411
Monocacy bridge, 125
Monocacy episode, A, 300-302
Monocacy river, 140, 141
Monocacy to Danville, From, 314-331
Moody, William F., 273
Moore and McCall, 49
Morehouse, R., 6
Morfit, Major, 313
Morgan, Hon. C, 18
Morgan, "Dan.," 153
Morgan, Hon. E. B., 11
Morgan, E. D., 12
Morris, L. N., 44
Morris, L. O., 44, 49, 56, 74, 75
Morris, Staats, 44
Mudge, Warham, 6, 15, 23, 32, 34, 62,
113, 211, 428, 455
Mulford, Col., 358
Munn, Hiram, 429
Munson's hill, 257
Murdock, R. H, 134
Muster-in, 18
Myers, Samuel, 151
Nash, Edwin,
457
Negro hanged,
110
Negus, John,
333
Nervous sentinel,
32
Newberry, E. W.,
58, 429
New Jersey 1st Battery,
93
11th Infantry,
36
14th Infantry, 122,
124, 303
29th Infantry,
40
New Store,
237
Newspapers in camp, No,
214
Newtown,
143
New Year's,
49,76
New York city,
22
New York Independent,
103
New York Troops, 5th Cavalry, 186
8th Cavalry, 25, 146
24th Cavalry, 104, 119
2d H. A., 262, 264, 271; goes home,
272
6th H. A., 159
7th H. A., 54
10th H. A, 80
14th H. A, 261
75th Infantry, 149
106th Infantry, 130
110th Infantry, 25
111th Infantry, 25, 26, 93, 103
113th Infantry, 44
117th Infantry, 51
610

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Page.

Page.

129th Infantry,

47

Owens, Moses,

246

137th Infantry,

35

Paden, Thomas,

181

138th Infantry,

46

Page, Ebenezer,

78

184th Infantry,

162

Palmer, Porter V.,

30

Night marching,

86, 92, 116

Palmyra visitor,

138

Nine and the Ninth,

284

Pamunkey river,

93

Ninth Corps,

104

Parish, F. N.,

6, 430

Ninth Heavy Artillery, 4.

, 44, 46, 81, 90,

Parker, Judge,

142

96, 111, 129, 133,

136, 138, 139,

Parker, Capt. Samuel,

130

145, 150, 158, 167, 173, 174, 197,
220, 224, 252, 257, 260, 297
Size of, 211
Muster out, 262
Leave for home, 262
Nineteenth Corps, 149, 150, 153, 170,
173
Noble, WiUiam H, 39
Norman, Jarvis, 243
North Anna river, 89, 91
North, C. J., 430
Northcott, J. R., 188
Norton, A. B., 516
"Not dead yet," 346
Notely, Thomas, 303
Notes from a diary, 310
Nott, Dr. E, 20, 434
Numan, J. D., 16, 580

Observatory, Butler's,

109

Observatory,

223
Odor from dead bodies,
102
,106
"Oh, I'm hit,"
190
Ohio and Chesapeake canal,
40
Ohio Troops, 23d,
177
110th, 90, 131, 150, 173,
220,
224
122d, 90, 123, 150, 173,
220,
224
126th, 90, 173, 219,
220,
224
133d,
59
169th,
59
Ohlenschlager, Dr. Emil,
197
"Old G. and T.,"
327
Old Sore-toes,
69
Oldswager, John, 180,
430,
580
Opequon creek, •
143,
147
Ord, E. O. C,
252
Ormsby, 5th N. Y. Cavalry,
186
Orterlipp, Frank,
102
Oulds, Gen. Robert,
357
Parrish, W. I., 130, 131, 179, 431, 580
Patrick's station, 215
Patterson, C. P., 78, 471, 516
Payne, Hon. S. E, 4
Paymaster, 168
Pay-rolls, 263
Parshall, D. W., 413
Pemberton prison, 210, 352
Pennsylvania Troops, 23d, 214
67th, 90, 113, 150, 173, 219, 220, 224
87th, 97
138th, 90, 132, 150, 173, 224
Penrose, Col. W. H, 193
Personal experiences of the Civil
War, 390-409
Petersburg, 109, 110, 205, 223
Attack on picket line, 210
Assault, March 25, 220
Assault, April 2, 228
Entered, 230
Petersville, 139
Philadelphia, 24
Pickett, Gen., 235
Picket incidents, 74, 94, 113, 116, 199
Pidge, George H, 537
Pies, 51
Pigs, 248
Pimm, E. T., 431
Pitcher, George A, 190
Pocahontas, 108
Point of Rocks, 108, 110
Point Lookout, 196
Pole Cat creek, 89
Pomeroy, Hon. T. M., 11
Pond, E. H, 293
Pontoon bridge, 108, 119
Porter, Col. C. S., 244
Porter, Charles F, 313
Porter, Henry, 61
INDEX.

611

Page.
Postmaster, 167, 285
Potomac creek, 82
Potomac river, 27, 38, 40, 58, 61, 80,
136, 138, 139
Powhatan, 351
Prentiss, Capt., 173
President's quid, The, 277
Prince George county, 58
Pringle, W. DeW., 16, 131, 132, 370,
455, 580
Prison food, 332
Prisoners of war, 307-366
"Private Harris," 256, 261
Punishments, 50, 51, 211
Putnam, J. J., 482

Quick, T. D.,

432, 571

Quirk, Mr.,

136

Raiders,

342

Railroads, Destroying,

91

Rainy march,

254

Ramseur, Gen. S. D., 149,

164, 185

Rand, Willard,

221

Randolph, John,

243

Rappahannock river,

84, 257

Rations,

165, 257

Rations under fire,

126

Raulston, Col.,

343

Raynor, A. J.,

88

Raze, B. F.

432

Ready to move,

222

Reams' station,

113

Rebel letter,

316

Rebel prison, In a,

331-350

Rebel rations,

336

Records, Regimental,

3

Recruits, 76, 79, 80,

169, 188

Redgrave, S. C, 15, 62,

432, 492

Red tape,

215

Reed, 10th Vermont,

339

Reeves, Stephen, 6, 17,

432, 471

Regimental band,

290

Regimental books,

4

Regiment leaves Auburn,

19

Regiment, Smallest,

146

Reid, Whitelaw,

59

Relay House,
Reno, Gen.,
Retreat from Monocacy,
Reveille, Review of 6th Corps,

Page,
25, 135, 161
299 135 68
258
Rhodes, H. J., 221, 235, 433, 527
Rice, Dan., 31
Rice, J. W., 370, 456, 457
Rice, L. B., 6, 433, 471
Richards, Col., 104
Richardson, A. D., 110
Richmond, 250
Captured, 230
March through, ' 251
Richmond revisited, 355
Ricketts, Gen., 90, 130, 131, 150, 159,
175, 193, 302, 305
Riddleberger, 325
Riley, Anth., 181
Riley, Barney, 210
Roadside halt, 253
Robinson, Charles, 571
Robinson, Dr. H, 400
Robinson, J. D., 549
Rochambeau, Count de, 13
Rockville,Rodes, Gen. R. E,
Rodman gun,

Roe, A. M.,
Roe, A. S.,
Roe, N. A. M.,
Roessle, Henry,
Roll-call, Rooker, Henry,
Rooster crows,
Root's Battle Hymn,
Rorer, J. T.,
Ross, Sarah,
Rosser, Gen.,
Roster of the Ninth,
Rowland, Henry,
Roys, J. S.,
Rozier's bluff,
Ruffle, John,
Runyan, Chauncey,
Russell, Gen. D. A.,

55, 139, 318, 320
149, 152, 164
62, 64
13, 433
4, 361, 369, 433
294
160, 503
68, 195
407219 132
286428 168453
516284
57, 66
471 274
151, 164

612

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Page.
Sabin, Surgeon S. A., 6, 15, 203, 291, 309,
413, 434, 455
Death of Lincoln, 241
Safford, Major, 156
Sager, J., 53, 291, 293, 370, 425, 456
Sailor's Creek, 231
Battle of, 232-237
Origin of name, 235
St. Charles' College, 135
Sand storm, 219
Saxton, Charles T., 369
Scared boy, 43
Scares, 38, 42, 53, 55, 77, 398
Schiffer, 361
Schultze, Otto, 455
Scipio, 40
Scott, Gen., 391
Seribner, G. H, 450
Second Cayuga and Wayne Regiment, 9
Second Corps, 99
Sedgwick, Gen., 90, 105, 303, 304
Seelye, J. J., 292, 293
Segoine, Jesse, 12
Sergeant sews stripes, 218
Seward, Col. Aug., 395, 435
Seward, Frederick, 435
Seward, Mrs. Frederick, 392
Seward, Mrs. J. W., 390
Seward, William H., 4, 9, 21, 34, 40, 41,
42, 48, 53, 54, 60, 63, 136, 277, 434
Seward, William H, Jr., 4, 5, 10, 13, 15,
17, 18, 35, 47, 48, 49, 53, 54, 57,
58, 62, 64, 65, 83, 88, 109, 113,
114, 128, 132, 157, 159, 167, 275,
368, 370, 395, 397, 403, 435, 436,
454
"Seward's pets," 34, 41
Seymour, Gen., 200, 210, 213, 217, 218,
256
Seymour, Horatio, 41
Sharpshooters, 101
Shell burst, The, 53, 273
Shenandoah river, 137, 140, 172, 323
Shepard, R. B., 55
Shepardstown, 37
Shergur, C. L., 439
Cedar Creek, 6, 180-184

Page.
Sheridan, Gen., 109, 141, 145, 147, 151,
153, 155, 169, 170, 174
Cedar Creek, 175, 185, 193, 201, 231,
258, 437
Sheridan's cavalry, 91
Sherman, Gen., 3
Sherman, Miss Lodema, 444
Shorkley, P. T., 293
Sidney, Sir Philip, 316
Silver spring, 319
Sincerbeaux, E., 456
Sinclair, F. A., 6, 16, 76, 119, 439, 570
Sinclair, J. P., 185
Sinclair, James, 440
Sinclair, W. W., 16, 482, 571
Singing in camp, 259
"Six dollars 's better 'n thirteen," 261
Sixth Corps, 90, 99, 111, 134, 137, 138,
140, 149, 153, 155, 158, 167, 169,
170, 201, 223, 231, 257, 303-307,
315, 318
Paper, 244
Review, 258
Skinner, Jeremiah, 102
"Skirmishing," 110
Slap-jacks, 114
Sleeping under fire, 98
Slocum, Col. J. S., 298
Small-pox, 62, 77
Small, Sergt., 347
Smith, Capt. A. J., 185
Smith, Albert L., 128
Smith, " 'Arry," 341
Smith, Col. B. F., 90, 101, 107
Smith, "Extra Billy," 247
Smith, Jimmy, 341
Smith, Capt. John, 108
Smith, Gen. Kirby, 258
Smith, Lewis, 456
Smith, Mortimer, 293
Smith, Col. P. B., 247
Smith, Gen. W. F., 303
Smithfield, 146
Smocker, Frederick, 293
Snicker's gap, 41, 137, 158
Snickerville, 137
Snow, First, 199
Before Petersburg, 207

INDEX.

613

Page.
Snyder, A. J., 492
Snyder, Major G. W., 297
Snyder, J. L., 492
Snyder, James W., 6, 12, 13, 15, 49, 51,
60, 66, 78, 95, 100, 106, 136, 157,
160, 168, 174, 210, 440, 454, 457
Cedar Creek, 178, 190, 193, 198,
His horse dies, 198
Gets spurs, 201
On March 25, 221; April 2, 223
Sailor's Creek, 235, 241, 260
Farewell, 263
Snuff-dipping, 250
Socks wear out, 209
Soft bread, 117
Soule, Ira, 293
Soule, Ira T., 294
Sova, Alvin N., 128
Spottsylvania, 84
Springs in Virginia, 325
Squier, C. Y., 571
Squires, Sarah, 431
Squyer, C. W., 16
Squyer, Irvin, 15, 18, 198, 199, 440, 454,
559
Stacey, Alfred E., 6
Cedar Creek, 188, 442
Stacey, Anthony, 158, 188, 442
Stacey, George, 189, 442
Stafford, E., 78, 515, 516
Stamford, D. J., 129
Stanton, E. M., 42, 58, 119, 419
Stanton, Col. J. F, 113
Staunton, 145, 327, 328
Staunton river, 243, 244
Steamer George Leary, 360
Herman Livingston, 205
J. W. D. Prouty, 82
John Brooks, 82
Salvador, 118
State of Connecticut, 82
Thomas Powell, 157
Winona, 118
Stephens, N. T., 18
Stern, H. C, 458
Stewart, John F, 492, 493
Stone, D. H, 211, 516
Stoneman, Gen., 313

Stonewall Jackson,
Stout, Wilmer,
Stoyell, George C,
Straight, Col.,
Strasburg,Strickland, N. F, 15,
Strother, D. H, quoted,
Sturge, Philip, his horse
Creek, 190,
Stuart, J. E. B.,
Sunday in camp,
Sunday's work,
Surgeon's call,
Surrender of Lee,
Sutler ordered away,
Swift, George W., 444,
Swift, S. F.,
Sword presentation,
Syracuse,

Page.
42, 122
181
15, 278, 504 354
155, 156
444, 471, 472 163
at Cedar
444, 527, 559
38, 42, 55, 91 37
226
68, 69
238219
515, 516, 559
15, 18, 504
403 262

Taft, E. P., 15, 16, 47, 48, 58, 59, 94, 131,
132, 157, 167, 444, 454
Tallman, F. A.,
Tallman, Frank,
Tall soldiers,
Taps,Taylor, J. N,
Taylor, Major,
Taylor quoted,
TennaUytown,
Tent in the rain,
Thanksgiving, First,
1864,
Thanksgiving and prayer,
Thatcher, J. H,
Third Battalion joins,
Third Division thanked,
Thoburn, Col. Joseph,
Thomas, Charles,
Thomas, Col. C. K., 123, 126, 141, 300,
302, 315
Thomas, S. S., 300
Thoroughfare gap, 54, 55
Threetop mountain, 155
Thurlstrup's picture, 153
Tidd, John, 285
Tifft, J. W., 482
Tifft, John, 504

6,

294

6,

368,

446
257 69

225,

236 104
227

39, 136,
'er,

158.

260 9242
202 57
151

»

156,

163100193151

614

NINTH NEW YORK HEAVY ARTILLERY.

Tindall, P. P.,
Toiles, Col. C. W.,
Tompkins, Col. C. H,
Torbert, Gen.,
Trading with rebels,
Tree cut off by shell,
Trouble over food,
Tucker, J. Randolph,
Tucker, William H, Cedar
Turner, "Dick,"
Turner, George,
Twenty-second Corps,
Two harvests,
Tyler, Gen. E. B.,
Tyler, Governor J. H,
Tyler, President John,
Typhoid fever,
Union volunteer saloon,
Urbana,

Creek,

Page
537, 538 197
104, 120153
215, 216, 219 102
268234 189
353341 138
294 123
300 108 5923
139, 316

Vaill, Lieut,
Valley, The Shenandoah,
145, 163, 164
Left,
Valuable papers,
Vandenburgh, Major,
Vanderbilt, A. H,
Vandervoort, M. L.,
Van Liew, John,
Verdi, Dr.,
Vermont Troops, 10th,
1st Heavy,
Brigade,
Veteran Association,
Vickery, J. J.,
Vidette, Vishion, H. W.,
Visiting at Cold Harbor,
Voorhies, George B.,
Vosburg, T.,
Wadsworth, James S.,
Wagon trains,
Walker, Col. A. F,
Walker, Mayor J. M.,
Walker, W. V,

98
141, 142, 144,
204, 324 87
303
369 102
294 402
122, 124138 145
367-389 61
116, 199, 211 369
103, 104
493
15, 537 41
196, 198, 199 188
244 369

Page.
Wallace, Gen. Lew, 123, 124, 129, 131,
270, 271, 300, 301
War, not Sunday school, 87
Warn, Charles S., 447
Washing shirts, 12 1
Washington, 25, 26, 30, 32, 36, 55, 58,
134, 137, 138, 139
Washington reservoir, 40
Washington, George, 82, 85, 153
Statue of, 252
Wasson, W. R., 15, 49, 370, 454, 455
Water was saved, The, 106
Watson, George, 408, 437, 447, 493, 549471295
9, 44 7083
47
230 119 60

Watson, John,
Watterson, Henry,
Wayne, Anthony,
Wayne county man, Trick on,
Webster, Daniel,
Weight of guns, etc.,
Weitzel, Gen. G.,
Weldon railroad,
Welles, Gideon,
Welling, Joseph, 11, 14, 15, 16, 21, 25,
29, 35, 40, 41, 47, 48, 54, 56, 86,
83, 88, 156, 286, 395, 447, 454
Westfall, S. J., 418
"What are we here for?" 268

Wheater, B. E.,

312

Wheeler, Adjt.,

173

Wheeler, H. H,

286, 448, 504

Whistler, J N. G,

270, 272, 411

Whitbeck, J. W.,

449

White's ford,

323

Whittier quoted,

139

'Whole ribbel army,"

201

Wilcox, Gen. O. B.,

230

Wilcox's Landing,

108

Wilderness,

84

Wiley, Lieut.,

178

Williams, L. D.,

492

Williams House,

115

Williamson, J. J.,

197

Williamsport,

146

Willow spout,

327

Wilson, David,

347

Wilson, Gen.,

113

Wilson's Cavalry,

149

Winchester,

42, 142, 143, 145, 323

INDEX.

615

Page.
Page.
Winchester, Battle of,
149-155
Woodstock,
156
Wing, E. B.,
294
Woodward, S.,
15, 527
Wing, S. P.,
294
Woolen gloves,
324
Winsor, Columbus,
316
Work, Henry C,
117
Winter house, Plan of,
46
Worms in hominy,
72
Winter quarters, 44,
45,
208,
212, 213
Worthington, R. C,
16, 580
Wirz, 124
Trial of, 270
Wisconsin 5th Infantry, 197
Wise, John S., 247
Wolcott, Governor Roger, 4
Wood, A. S., 4, 5, 15, 16, 48, 49, 126, 129,
166, 174, 225, 235, 241, 368, 369,
370, 403, 449, 454, 455, 492, 580
Wood, William, 5, 15, 62, 64, 161, 166,
184, 201, 207, 225, 226, 235, 236,
370, 451, 454, 527
Wright, Gen. H. G., 90, 96, 109, 113, 140,
169, 170, 193, 217, 224, 226, 240,
254, 296, 303, 304
Letter on Cedar Creek, 177
Yard, B. J., 6, 158, 201, 213, 516, 549
York, N. G, 6
York's diary, Sergt., 348
Young, Edmond, 538
Youngest member, vide Dennis
Crowley, 582
YALE UNIVERSITY

163800b

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