Jasper County Democrat, Volume 12, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1909 — MILITARY RECORD OF JOHN CASEY. [ARTICLE]

MILITARY RECORD OF JOHN CASEY.

The Soldier Life of One Indiana Man Written By Himself for the Special Benefit of the Living War Veterans and All Those Interested in the Life of a Soldier From 1861 to 1865. I was born in* Madison county, Ohio, Nov. 25, 1843, and at the age of 5 years emigrated with my parents to Huntington county, Ind., In the year 1848, among panthers, wild cats, catamounts, wild turkeys, deer and other wild game. I remember my grandfather at the age of 75 years, killed a deer and we dined sumptuously on venison. In the year 18 5 0 we moved into Wabash county and resided on a farm between Lagro and North Manchester, where my father taught school. We afterwards lived one mile south of North Manchester on the Eel River. We departed from that place in the year 1859, emigrating to Jasper county, and located nine miles north of Rensselaer, and again my father taught school.

I was then 16 years of age when we left North Manchester. I enlisted in John Goetz’s shoeshop and was sworn in by Recruiting Officer Harrison Cooper, in Rensselaer, Dec. 12, 1861, taking the oath of allegiance to support the United States government 3 years, or during the war, unless sooner discharged according to military authority. During the ceremony of being sworn in to be subject to military authority those present were Harrison Cooper, Wesley Duvall, Daniel Duvall, Wm. Barkley, Reason Goddard and Thomas Clark, and I am now the only living survivor in the year 1969, to remember the important occasion of the taking of the oath of allegiance in the presence of witnesses, who have gone into the shadow of death from whence they will never return. I left my hoqie early on the morning of Dec. 12, 1861, walked 9 miles through snow knee-deep. Without dinner or supper I left Rensselaer on foot at 7 o’clock in the evening, hungry and penniless, to walk to Francesville alone in the dark. I was tired, hungry, lonesome and full of meditation. I felt that responsibilities greater than I could anticipate or imagine were yet to come. I considered myself a greenhorn from the country sowing “gawk seed” that in all probability would sprout as soon as I entered camp.

While I was Imagining circumstances and conditions to their last extremity, and when near the Headley Brown farm, I suddenly discovered two men earnestly talking in the German language. I overhauled them as quickly as possible and made their acquaintance. One was Martin Vanburen Zoboroski, the other was Henry Plott, his brother-in-law. We arrived at Francesville and boarded the midnight train. -I felt rather peculiar under the circumstances, hungry, penniless, and among strangers, traveling on a first class passenger train. I reminded Zoboroski, in a few well chosen remarks to aid' me if he possibly could, or I would get the bounce from the conductor. But before I received his answer a man placed his hand on my

shoulder and asked if I was a soldier boy. I replied that I had been sworn into the service In Co. K. ,48th Ind. He smiled and said he was authorized to. pass me through to camp. I was* greatly relieved and felt better than if I had fell down stairs or had a tooth extracted without pain. We traveled north to the southern crossing, changed cars and went through Laporte and South Bend to Goshen, where we formed in line under our pass man, Felix R. Donnelly, chief musician 48th Ind. Infantry. , After we left the train at Goshen we marched out to Camp Ellis un-

def our pass man, who Informed me that he was a democrat and lived at Remington. We arrived at Camp Ellis at noon on the 13th of December, 1861, washed and immediately dined sumptuously on bread, beans and coffee. I had fasted from breakfast on the 12th until noon of the 13th, and not a wink of sleep from the night of the 11th. On the night of the 14th of December, I was a, soldier In uniform and was soon < drilling under Lieut. John Miller, an old and experienced war veteran, who could fight any old .way, rough and tumble, prize or In line of battle, and as brave a man as ever wore the Blue. He informed me that he was a democrat also. Our company doctor, J. H. Loughridge, was also a democrat, who had formerly been assistant surgeon of the 9th Ind., in the 3 months service. Our colonel, Norman Eddy, who was actually as brave as Andrew Jackson and equally as strong a democrat, and who was wounded in the battle of luka, Miss., and sent home, and was then, after the war, elected Secretary of State on the democratic ticket. Our first captain, David Snyder, a lawyer from Rensselaer, was also a democrat, so you see our officers were practically all democrats. We left Camp Ellis on the evening of February 8, 1862, and many farewells forever were made by the boys to the citizens, who had congregated to see them start for “Dixie Land to take their stand to live or die in Dixie Land.” We were carried by rail on the Lake Shore railroad via Kankakee City, 111., over the Illinois Centr&l to Cairo. Arriving at Cairo on the evening of the Bth we remained on the cars all night. In the morning we went to view the Ohio river, where it empties into the Mississippi. Across the Mississippi heavy timber could be seen in the distance in the state of Missouri, and across the Ohio we gazed upon the state of Kentucky, but we were In the state of Illinois, in old barracks, in mud knee deep; among the very best quality of Insects of different kinds in their natural condition. We discovered the most prominent tribe of insects to be fleas—harmless and innocent (?) We separated from them by being loaded on steamboat and steaming up the Ohio to Paducah, Ky. Here we landed Feb. 10 and camped in an old brick tobacco warehouse the first night. The next day we were in tents. A blizzard raged and it snowed, blowed, sleeted, and because of the cold many of the boys suffered with camp measles terminating in pneumonia and resulting in the death of 15 or 20 men. We guarded Paducah from rebel cavalry invasion. We were frequently on picket duty, but we were liable to be detailed at any time on guard duty because of the wine-bibbers, whose business was to have business where they hadn’t any. But it was our business to arrest them and send them to the guard-house until they could be either bucked and gagged or be made to dig stumps for a week or so, so as to sober them up ready for a raid on some whiskey shop again. But the rebels never attacked Paducah to our certain knowledge.

We had considerable pleasure and amusement waiting for a paymaster to be sent to pay us. I sold my overcoat for 25 cents to defray my necessary and Incidental expenses until the arrival of the paymaster. Finally he came and we soldiers drew our salaries at ’the rate of sl3 per month. We received our pay April 27, 1862, and were paid in gold. We received orders from the War Department to vamoose, and we vacated Camp Paducah and were loaded on a steamboat with a quarrelsome Illinois regiment. An altercation there ensued between Dr. Loughridge and an Illinois captain, and Lieutenant Miller came to the rescue. It resulted in the Lieutenant's knocking three Illinois men down, when the officers rushed in and order was restored. In the melee one of our company, Jacob Burget, drew* his gun on one ’ Illinois man, but the cartridge missed fire and the only regret was that Jacob was placed under arrest until- he should sober up. We went up the Tennessee river to Hamburg Landing, a 300 mile trip, and on the following evening we were at Pittsburg Landing. Here we disembarked and went at double-quick to where canhonadlng was made a specialty, about 5 miles out, through mud knee-deep. This was under Gen. Halleck in command of the Union army, headquarters at Pittsburg Landing, Mississippi, and Gen. Grant second in command. Grant was under a cloud for some disobedience of his at the battle of Pittsburg Landing, probably too much bravery in time of battle.

Gen. Haljeck had command of 100,000 soldiers and we were ready for the seige of Cornlth, where Gen. Beauregafd had command of 100,000 men, confederates, with his headquarters at Cornlth, Miss. We slept without tents and were drenching wet with dew every morning. We carried 100 rounds of amunltlon, 40 in cartridge box and 60 in our haversacks, three days rations and a canteen of water, one oil colth, frying pan and other cooking utensils. To lighten our load we threw away our blankets. On account of the mud we slept on our oilcloths at night with the blue,

starry sky for our covering. We had plenty of room to exercise our wearied limbs after marching and counter-marching day ,by day and night after night, constantly thrown into line of battle, marching over almost impassible roads, cut to pieces by countless wheels and hoofs, churned to mortar—and the roads were actually obnoxious to smell, so sour were they and in such a horrible condition. We marched, were slammed into mud and jammed into muck holes in dark nights; fast in scrub pines, night after night and day after day. Deloyed as skirmishers, double-quicked to the front, “about face," “retreat” through the woods over old thrown out,, worn out plantations, until one day a terrible deafening noise shook us up. The earth trembled with explosions in front at Cornith. On May 29, 1862,’ received the news that the enemy under Gen. Beauregard had made good their escape,/ burning all ammunition and provisions with all surplus and commissary stores. Hogsheads of molasses were poured into the, Streets and in running order on the* sidewalks and in the gutters, Beauregard’s army was on the retreat, leaving us nothing to capture but empty air, excessive heat and dusty roads.

Although our regiment was thinned with disease and death we followed hard after the rebels as they retreated toward Tishing county, Miss., and we followed hard after them. I was sunstruck at Holly Springs, Miss., in General Pope’s grand review in June. I was sent In ambulance 20 miles to the Mississippi general hospital, 20 miles west of Hamburg Landing, Tenn., thence forwarded by steamboat to Evansville, a distance of 300 miles. In hospital No. 4 I suffered untold, excruciating rheumatic pains. When discharged I weighed about 95 pounds, and to some extent resembled an Egyptian mummy. I was discharged Sept. 20, 1862. I returned home via Vincennes, Terre Haute, Indianapolis, Lafayette, Bradford and Rensselaer. I re-enlisted in Co. A, 87th Ind. Inf. at Rensselaer. Was conveyed in Wesley Duvall’s hack to Bradford, thence by rail to Indianapolis, where I resided >?at the Little’s hotel for about a week, being examined and accepted by a board of physicians and given a ten day furlough. I returned home to enjoy New Year’s, 40 degrees below zero with snow drifts over the double stake and rldered rail fences, and it so cold that stock froze to death. I returned to Indianapolis and remained in Camp Carrington until we left for Louisville, Ky., by way of Jeffersonville, crossing the Ohio river after night find were transported by rail to Nashville next morning. We were lodged in the Zollicoffer house, containing 305 rdoms. It was built for a hotel by the rebel general Zollicoffer, who was killed by Col. Frye. We left Nashville, Tenn., traveling by rail through Bridgeport and Huntsville, to Chattanooga, Tehn., where we joined the 87th Ind. Inf., at the foot of Lookout Mt. We were introduced to the battle-scarred heroes of Chicamauga, Co. A., in command of Capt. James A. Burnham, the regiment in command of Colonel Gleason, who afterwards was promoted to Brigadier General, and Colonel E. P. Hammond then took command of the regiment. We resigned our citizenship and went into camp as high privates in the rear ranks, with the exception of one of our boys who saw fit to exalt himself to be Lieutenant D. H. Yeoman at Chattanooga. In camp our dining table was the ftarth, our daily rations plain, common and very scarce. The aristocracy of fashionable society marched through Georgia in front of Chicamauga bayonets to the tune of double-quick time. Wlm. T. Sherman was our commander-in-chief of the Union forces. We very quietly, at bugle call, fell into line .and marched to Rengold, Georgia,' and camped. We picketed Missionary Ridge. Camp guard and picket duty required our immediate attention all the time. We placed considerable confidence in the society of our commander-ln-chlef, “Old Bill Sherman,” who was a natural-born soldier and a brave yet common appearing man, with fine military genius. He was dubbed “old Crazy Bill” and “Copperhead Bill” by some northern aristocracy whose loyalty was questionable on account of feather beds, luxuries, pie and pound cake in large quantities, besides greed, gain and speculation mixed with selfishness had soured their stomachs and then they lived all the way from 500 to 1,000 miles in the rear of Sherman’s army and knew nothing about Sherman or the experiences of soldiers’ lives, sufferings, hardships, etc., incident to camp life. The real facts of the case were that they were not in the swim with the Union soldiers in camp, on guard, picket-duty, drill, march, forage, skirmish and battle, and we never heard of their making any effort to get there Ell—they lost that loyal job.

While we were constantly on picket duty on Missionary Ridge, watching for rebel attack, we could dally see rebels from the summit. Buzzard’s Roost, and Tunnel Hills were "visited by our regiment in two lively skirmishes, all day long. We retreated both times to camp, considerably faster than we anticipated, fpr we struck a hornet's nest at Buzzard’s Roost. The air resounded with the whistle of rebel bullets and the thunder of the heavy artillery. We received a numb®r of cannon balls from the rebels.

All ( that saved us was that we were commanded by Brigadier General Gleason to hug the ground, and we hugged, too, and the rebels fired too high. We outwitted them both times, retreating into Camp Rengold. Finally on the oth of May, 1864, we reconnoitered Buzzard’s Roost, Tunnel Hills, Dalton being constantly in line of battle and skirmishing lively all the way to. Rocky Face, Ga., where we were engaged in a one day’s scrap with the rebels. We fell back into the road leading south, marched all night and were brought into line of battle at Ressicca, on the extreme right. The battle ended with 3,000 killed and wounded on the Union side and the rebel general, Johnson, retreated to a different fighting territory in and around Atlanta, Ga. The bear-fighting general, Hood, marched to Nashville, Tenn., Intending to invade the * Northern states, and was met by General Thomas, receiving a complete defeat. Hood’s army (rebel) demoralized and almost annihilated, was disbanded. General Sherman retraced his steps back to Rome, Ga., and we received our back pay at Kingston. Cigars were from 5<J cents to $1 each. We marched to the city of Atlanta and literally burned the city to the ground. We left the ruins of Atlanta via Milledgeville. Our regiments weie completely severed from communication with the outside world. We began to tear up the Weldon railroad, burning the ties in piles. Throwing the rails in the fire we bent them, after they became sufficiently heated, so as to render them useless. We were constantly in line of battle, skirmishing with the fighting rebel Joe Wheeler’s cavalry. But we marched right along surrounded by rebels, who gave us considerable annoyance and were the cause of the loss of much sleep. We succeeded In making them stand back until we arrived at Savannah, Ga., a city occupied by confederates under General Handee.

We were scarce of provisions and our company was detailed on a foraging expedition into Florida, where we succeeded in loading our wagons with hams, sweet potatoes, etc., among the palm leaves, palmettoes, magnolias, pines, ana cypresses, and peanuts. On the return to camp we were fired on by rebel cavalry. We at double-quick for several miles, escaping by a hair’s breadth. We landed in camp in Spent condition with .plenty of provisions. We had “saved our bacon,” and our foraging expedition was soon forgotten. Savannah surrendered by Handee evacuating the city on Dec. 20, 1864. We entered the city unmolested, camping in the west side. Hot biscuits were $1 per dozen. We were 18 miles from the Atlantic seascoast and we lived on rice and oysters, which were distributed in the shell, and we used sledge hammers to open them. We left the city of Savannah after Wm. Sherman had presented it to Abraham Lincoln as a Chrismas gift. We were in camp probably a month for rest, crossing the Savannah river on pontoon bridges Jam 20, 1865, we built corduroy roads as we traveled through the rice fields and cypress swamps. We met several guerrillas frequently. Major Steele of the 101st Ind., who with 15 privates while foraging near Fayetteville run on to 35 armed rebels, captured them and took them to camp as prisoners of war. Major Steele is now governor of the National Military Home, Grant county, Ind. Our army arrived at Fayetteville completely fagged out with our arduous march through the swamps of South Carolina. We double-quicked from Fayetteville to Bentonville, N. Carolina, forming in line of battle on the extreme left, knee-deep in mud in a swamp. The battle of Bentonville ended with the rebels on the retreat. We extricated ourselves from the mucky swamp mud and marched on to Greensboro, met with Generals Terry and Gilmore, 40,000 strong, consolidated under General Sherman, 60,000 strong. Sherman now had 100,000 men and Joe Johnston 100,000 rebels In opposition. tye left Greensboro and marched through the woods skirmishing all the way to Smithfield, took the town and some rebel cannon and prisoners and marched on to Raleigh, North Carolina. We arrived there on the 14th of April 1865. .

General Robert E. Lee surrended to General Grant on the 9th of April, 1865; General Johnston to General Sherman, April 20. Sherman’s headquarters at Raleigh, N. Carolina; Johnston’s at Greensboro, N. Carolina. The war was virtually over and we began our perilous march from Raleigh, N. Carolina—a race march between Jeff C. Davis commanding the Western troops and General Camby’s eastern New York troops, covering 165 miles from Raleigh to Richmond, Va., in six days of the extremely hot weather. Many fell completely exhausted with the heat. Jeff C. Davis won the race and camped near Libby prison, Richmond, Va. We were at Raleigh, N. C.,* I was on guard duty when Capt James A. Burnham announced to me that Abraham Lincoln had been ‘assassinated. The sad intelligence cast / gloom, of sorrow and sadness ovjfr all. We marched through RichniUhd to Alexandria thence crossing jfthe long bridge over the Potomac yfiver we passed the steps of the Apltal on Penn. Ave., on Shermany grand

review, May 23, 1865. We camped until pay-rolls were made out and signed, then we were transported through Maryland to Parkersburg, Virginia down the Ohio thence past Bleunarnarrets Island. I saw three states where they cornered, West Virginia and Ohio on the one side and Kentucky on the other. We passed by Cincinnati on our way to Louisville, Ky., where I was transferred into Co. A, 42d Ind. Infantry and was given 10 days furlough., I celebrated the 4th of July, 1865, In Rensselaer, then returned to Louisville, Ky., and went into camp for a few days. Then crossed the Ohio river at Jeffersonville, and went to Indianapolis into Camp Carrington for an indefinite period. I was paid off, receiving my discharge from Co. A 42d Ind. I was discharged by general order No. 24, Aug. 25, 1865. Returning home completely worn out with army life, a citizen once more, never more to fall into line with bayonet, load at will or at command, or to sleep on arms or to stack arms according to the superior officers, who leisurely rode on horses. In many trials, difficulties and exposures we were subject to military authority then, in obedience to commands. But now we stand fast in the liberty wherewith we saved this country from destruction and slavery and let the oppressed go free for all future.

This was accomplished- by the private soldier, the bone and sinew of this country, who left farm and fireside, to fight for one common cause—the preservation of the Union and the freedom of all mankind, in a land shadowed by the wings of an allwise and merciful God. Here is the estimate of Sherman’s army on the march to the sea: 60,000 men; 65 cannon; 2,500 wagons drawn by 4,600 mules;, by rail 3,700 miles; by Ignd 5,300 miles; total 13,600 miles. Individual side excursions together with all drills, camp guard and picket duty, says a very moderate estimate averages for each individual man 10,000 miles. This is a truthful narration from information, observation and experience.

JOHN CASEY,

Fair Oaks, Ind., March 30, 1909.