Office, who has such subjects in hand, and he tells me that the record
has been accepted and will appear in the official register when
published, and that the authority for the silver rings will be
published in the next General Orders, which cover changes in
organization and in which I believe silver rings are generally
authorized.
“With best wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, believe
me,
“Yours sincerely,
“(Signed) CHAUNCEY P. WILLIAMS.”
A separate silver engraved ring will be authorized to be placed upon the
Lance of the National Color for each of the following engagements:
CIVIL WAR, 1861–1865.
Blackburn’s Ford, Va., July 18th, 1861.
Bull Run, Va., July 21, 1861.
Rappahannock Station, Va., March 28, 29, 1862.
Yorktown, Va., April 16, May 4, 1862.
Fair Oaks, Va., June 1st, 1862.
Savage Station, Va., June 29, 1862.
Gaine’s Mills, Va., June 27–28th, 1862.
Peach Orchard, Va., June 29, 1862.
White Oaks Swamp, Va., June 30, 1862.
Glendale, June 30, 1862 (Va.).
Malvern Hill, Va., July 1st, 1862.
Antietam, Md., Sept. 17th, 1862.
Charlestown, W. Va., Oct. 16th–17th, 1862.
Snickers Gap, Va., Nov. 2d, 1862.
Hartwood Church, Va., Nov. 17th, 1862.
Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 11th–15th, 1862.
Deserted House, or Kelly’s Store, near Suffolk, Va., Jan. 30, 1863.
Suffolk, Va., April 11th–May 4th, 1863.
Chancellorsville, Va., May 1–3d, 1863.
Holland’s House, near Carrsville, Va., May 16, 1863.
Blackwater, Va., June 15th–18th, 1863.
Gettysburg, Pa., July 1–3d, 1863.
Auburn Mills, Va., Oct. 14, 1863.
Bristoe Station, Va., Oct. 14, 1863.
Mine Run, Va., Nov. 26, Dec. 2d, 1863.
Wilderness, Va., May 5–7th, 1864.
Po River, Va., May 9–10th, 1864.
Spottsylvania (angle), May 8–21st, 1864.
Landron House, Va., May 18, 1864.
North Anna River, Va., May 22–26th, 1864.
Totopotomoy Creek, Va., May 27–31, 1864.
Cold Harbor, Va., June 1–12th, 1864.
Petersburg (Assault), Va., June 16, 1864.
Welden Rail Road, Va., June 21–23–26–29th, 1864.
Deep Bottom, Va., July 27th–29th, 1864.
Strawberry Plains, Va., August 14–18th, 1864.
Reams Station, Va., August 25, 1864.
Boydtown Plank Road, Va., Oct. 27–28th, 1864.
Hatcher’s Run, Va., Dec. 8–9th, 1864.
Hatcher’s Run or Dabney’s Mills, Va., Feb. 5–7th, 1865.
Skinner’s Farm, Va., March 25, 1865.
Crow’s House near Petersburg, Va., March 31, 1865.
Hatcher’s Run, Va., March 31, 1865.
Siege of Petersburg, Va., June 17, 1864–April 2d, 1865.
Sutherland Sta. Boydtown Plank Rd., Va., April 2, 1865.
Sailor’s Creek, Va., April 6, 1865.
Farmville, Va., April 9, 1865.
Appomattox Court House, Va., April 9th, 1865.
And for the Spanish-American War, 1898.
Also on the Lance of the State Color for meritorious services, as
follows: Quarantine Riots, 1858; Draft Riots, 1863; Fire Island, 1892;
Brooklyn, 1895.
I am also indebted to Colonel Conley for the following copy of the
Roster of the commissioned officers of the regiment at the present time
(January 7th, 1910):
FIELD AND STAFF.
Lieut. Colonel Commanding—Louis D. Conley.
Majors—Michael Lynch, John E. Duffy, Philip E. Reville, F. L. Oswald.
Captains—John J. Phelan, Thomas F. McGuire, William M. Ford, Bernard
J. Glynn, John W. Elmes, Thomas J. Barry.
First Lieutenants—Patrick J. Mulcahy, Elwyn G. B. Riley, Felix A.
Donnelly.
Second Lieutenants—Percival E. Nagle, Rhinelander Waldo. Chaplain—Rev.
James D. Lennon.
LINE.
Captains—Co. “A,” Michael J. Dwyer; Co. “B,” Edmond M. Dillon; Co.
“C,” Felix J. McSherry; Co. “D,” John P. Everett; Co. “E,” John J.
Scanlon; Co. “F,” Patrick J. Maguire; Co. “G,” Bernard F. Cummings;
Co. “H,” W. Clayton Woods; Co. “I,” Charles Healy; Co. “K,’’ William
J. Costigan.
First Lieutenants—Co. “A,” William B. Stacom; Co. “C,” T. Harry
Shanton; Co. “E,” William E. Morris; Co. “F,” Michael A. Kelly; Co.
“G,” Edward Kirkpatrick; Co. “H,” Thomas J. O’Reilly; Co. “K,” James
E. Dillon.
Second Lieutenants-Co. “B,” Jeremiah A. O’Leary; Co. “C,” John E.
Chicquette; Co. “E,” James L. Doyle; Co. “G,” John E. O’Brien.
Any sketch of the 69th would be incomplete if it failed to call
attention to the Veteran Corps, an organization which has always kept in
close touch with the regiment and has done much for its welfare
throughout all these years. Not many of the heroic followers of Corcoran
and Meagher are within its ranks today, but a few, thank God, are still
happily left among us. Each year their diminishing ranks are being still
further thinned by the inexorable ravages of time. They are but few
indeed, and all the more for this reason we delight in honoring them.
Brave veterans, may you long be spared to illustrate by your simple
lives the virtues of patriotism and courage, and to inspire the soldier
sons of the Republic with a desire to emulate your daring and sacrifice.
Captain O’Connell, the President of the Corps, has kindly furnished me
with the names of the survivors at present upon the roll of those who
followed the colors from ’61 to ’65:
Captain James J. Smith.
Captain John O’Connell.
Captain Garrett Nagle.
Captain John R. Nugent.
Captain Thomas M. Canton.
Lieutenant Richard R. Bermingham.
Sergeant John Lonegran.
Private John Kevill.
Private Thomas Smith.
Private Thomas Burns.
Private Richard Keyes.
Private Richard Finnan.
Private Patrick Barrett.
Private Charles E. Neilson.
Private John Fallon.
For very many years the writer has been favored with the friendship of
the 69th Regiment; it has conferred honors upon him, of which he is very
proud. He had the privilege of delivering the oration upon the occasion
of the laying of the cornerstone of the new armory, and was called upon
to preside at the memorable ceremonies attending the formal opening of
the completed building. The great consideration at all times shown him
will be ever gratefully remembered, and it is his hope that this paper,
prepared at the request of the American-Irish Historical Society, may
serve in slight degree to perpetuate the well-earned glory of an
historic and gallant corps, which we trust may long remain a notable and
reliable unit in the military forces of the United States. Neither the
elements of social disorder laboring from within to undermine the fabric
of our Constitution, nor the international complications possible to
arise, by which our people may be subjected to the perils of foreign
war, can menace our beloved country with permanent danger as long as the
manhood of the Nation is animated by the spirit and courage associated
with the history and traditions of the 69th Regiment.
[Illustration:
JOHN LOUIS SHEEHAN, LL. D.,
Of Boston, Mass.
Author of paper on Thomas Jonathan (Stonewall) Jackson.
Member of the Society.
]
THOMAS JONATHAN (STONEWALL) JACKSON.
_A Paper Read at the Twelfth Annual Meeting of the American-Irish
Historical Society, January 8, 1910, at Hotel Plaza in New York, by John
Louis Sheehan, LL. D. of Boston University School of Law._
In scanning the pages of American history, one pauses at the name of
Stonewall Jackson. In imagination the reader goes back more than half a
century, to fields of fierce conflict where a nation was drenched in
human blood. He hears the cry of the torn and mangled, the roar and
shriek of the bursting shell, and when for a moment the flash of cannon
clears away the smoke of battle, there is seen the form of one admired
by all, the ingenious, the courageous, the redoubtable Jackson.
Nerve and a spirit of independence appears in his great grandmother,
Elizabeth Cummins, a woman over six feet tall, who quarreled with her
father and left for America, after throwing a silver tankard at his
head, while he was keeper of “The Bold Dragoon” in London. On her
arrival she married John Jackson, a man of Irish birth. Later on, when
young Jackson compared notes, he found that his ancestors came from the
same parish in Londonderry as those of President Andrew Jackson. The
married couple settled on a farm in northwestern Virginia. It was out of
this stock that our hero was born about January 21, 1824.
Jonathan Jackson, the father of Thomas Jonathan, retained little of the
mettle of the early pioneers. His health, credit, and fortune were
gambled away, and he died leaving his widow and four children to the
care of his relatives. Stonewall was three years old at this time. Four
years later, called to the bedside of his mother, he witnessed all that
was mortal of her pass out of this life.
The orphan went to live with his uncle, Cummins Jackson, who gave him
complete freedom in the open air. The boy became a good rider and grew
fond of all out door sports. These days spent among remote kin were
looked upon by him as the saddest of his life; he never cared to talk
about them for this reason. Yet his temper as a boy was cheerful and
generous. He had a high regard for truth, and his sense of justice was
very strong. He was quick to resent an insult, would never yield to
defeat, but when fairly treated was always gentle and kind.
He was eighteen years old when he became a constable of Lewis County.
This office he held for a time, though the age required by law was
twenty-one. “But since a desire for knowledge had been the passion of
his youth,” it is needless to say that he was glad to resign on
receiving an appointment to the military academy at West Point. On his
arrival at Washington, the congressman from his district, introduced him
to the secretary of war, as a young man with a limited education, with
“an honorable desire for improvement.” His conversation must have
pleased the secretary, for he said: “Go to West Point; and the first man
who insults you, knock him down, and have it charged to my account.” The
term at the academy having already began, the youth had to hasten to
West Point. Before leaving he climbed the roof of the Capitol, and
looked out over Washington. Nobody noticed him there, nobody looked for
him in that great city; but there came a time when folks did look for
him, and when the inhabitants shook at the mere mention of his name;
yes, when the mere threat of an attack caused the greatest fear at
Washington, and disturbed the whole United States.
It is said that he was a “gawky” youth, with an ill-looking jaw, wearing
homespun clothes, when he presented himself to the officers at West
Point. His appearance led the cadets to attempt fun at his expense. In a
measure they were disappointed. After many trials they decided that the
young fellow had come to stay. But Jackson did not make great progress
in his studies. He could do the necessary riding and running, but he was
slow in his book learning, and always two or three lessons behind his
class. He barely got through his mid-year examinations, yet this pass
gave him courage, and he studied even after the taps “for lights out.”
The end of the first year, however, found him on safer ground.
When his class was graduated at the end of four years, Jackson stood
seventeenth among the seventy. The world was to hear of that class
later, for in it were many destined for distinguished honors; among them
were Generals A. P. Hill, Pickett, Maury, D. R. Jones, W. D. Smith, and
Wilcox of the Confederate Army, and Generals McClellan, Foster, Reno,
Stoneman, Couch, and Gibbon of the Federal Army. Jackson himself was no
longer an awkward boy, for the training and system at West Point had
wrought a change which clung to him through life. He was kind and
courteous, but not altogether sociable and had only a few good friends.
He was now twenty-two years old, with the brevet rank of second
lieutenant of artillery. Our country had already declared war against
Mexico, and when his whole class was ordered to the front, Jackson went
to New Orleans from whence he sailed to Mexico. General Winfield Scott
was there, and Jackson joined his army at Vera Cruz. From this time on,
fortune placed him in the centre of the stage. He took part in nearly
all the great battles of this war. He was many times mentioned for
bravery. At the storming of the Castle of Chapultepec, Captain Magruder
recommended him for promotion in the following words: “I beg leave to
call the attention of the Major General commanding, to the conduct of
Lieutenant Jackson of the First Artillery. If devotion, industry, talent
and gallantry are the highest qualities of a soldier, then is he
entitled to the distinction which their possession confers.” At once he
was brevetted a captain, and a little later made major. It is said “no
other officer in the whole army in Mexico was promoted so often for
meritorious conduct or made so great a stride in rank.”
On September 14, the American Army occupied the city of Mexico. A
garrison was finally left to guard the city, and Jackson spent pleasant
days in this life of ease among the Mexican people. He learned their
language, and took part in some of their pastimes. It was here that
religion grew upon him. He began the study of the differing forms of
creeds and service taught by soldier chaplains, Mexican priests, and
citizen ministers. The Archbishop of Mexico explained to him the system
of the Church of Rome, but Jackson was quite undecided when he had
listened to them all, and left his selection to a later day.
In 1848 the army vacated the city. Major Jackson was sent to Fort
Hamilton, on Long Island, where two uneventful years quickly passed. He
was next ordered to Fort Meade, near Tampa Bay, Florida, where he stayed
for six months. A pleasant change awaited him, for he was elected
professor of Natural and Experimental Philosophy and Artillery Tactics
at the Virginia Military Institute, where he went in March, 1851.
It was at Lexington, where the Shenandoah flows through the “Valley of
Virginia,” that Jackson spent the next ten years, teaching the cadets,
and very interesting work he found it. He loved every inch of the
beautiful grounds, and enjoyed every hour of those days. It was here
that he met Doctor White, a Presbyterian minister, in whom he found a
congenial “spiritual commanding officer.” After examination of all the
creeds, Jackson was baptized “a member of Doctor White’s congregation,”
and began straightaway, with a zeal that was all his might, the business
of leading a veritable “religious life,” and this life he lived to the
letter, as far as it is possible for man to live it in this world.
“Every act, it seemed to him, was fit occasion for a prayer,—prayer
before he drank a glass of water, in the class-room, a blessing on his
scholars, on mailing a letter, an appeal for the person to whom it was
sent,—silent prayers in most cases; for there appeared little of the
Roundhead in this simple man, who could speak out when he thought it
necessary, but shrank from uncalled for show.”
In 1853 Jackson was married to Elinor, daughter of President Junkin, of
Washington College. Less than one happy year were they together, for she
died in childbirth, and Jackson sank in despair.
There have been many descriptions of this Major Jackson. He is described
as being “tall, erect, muscular, with uncommonly large hands and feet,
and with a diffident manner of meeting people that was exaggerated by
his habitually awkward movements. He walked, it is said, like a
dismounted horseman; in the saddle sat loosely, in a kind of slovenly
ease, unless, as later, in battle, he was moved by excitement, when his
whole body became rigid with martial lines, and he rode with a
distinction as imposing, almost, as that of ‘the man on the horse
himself.’ The heavy (bearded) jaw, however, was not square, but oval,
and Jackson’s eyes, which were large and blue, had a trace of soft light
in them not accounted for in this picture of an iron warrior.”
In 1856 Major Jackson visited Europe. He scanned every inch of the
“beaten path,” and in gratifying his curiosity went to the Battlefield
of Waterloo. While he felt that Napoleon was the greatest of commanders,
he was sure that he made an error in choosing the Chateau of Hugomont as
the vital point of attack on the British line; it should have been the
village of Mont St. Jean.
In this far away land, his thoughts wandered back to the country of his
birth, and to a dear little girl he had known before his marriage. He
made her his wife a year after his return. They led a plain, simple,
Christian life.
Jackson, a keen observer, saw at last the dark clouds of rebellion on
the horizon. These signs meant much to him, and, like many another, he
was greatly concerned.
Though Jackson took no active part in the secession arguments, he
nevertheless came to the definite conclusion that the northern states
were using the power of the Washington government for the private
advantage of their section, and were seeking to oppress the south. He
believed that the Lord had ordained slavery, but apart from this he
stood for “the right of the sovereign state.” Said he: “The South ought
to take its stand on the outer verge of its just rights, and then resist
aggression, if necessary, by the sword,” and when the war came at last,
there was no question in his mind on which side he was to fight. He
thought of the days under the “Old Flag,” and what those days had been
to him; yet after all, he felt that the “act of his state” absolved
him,—Virginia was with the Confederacy.
The feeling was now running high in the South. At a meeting of the
military academy, where Jackson was called upon to speak, he arose
during the cheers of those present, and said: “Soldiers, the time may
come when your state will need your services, and, if that time does
come, then draw your swords and throw away the scabbards.”
It was on a Sunday morning that Governor Letcher sent the order for
Jackson to march his cadets to Richmond. Then he turned them over to his
superior officer. Promotions were taking place, commands were given out
to some who had had no war experience. He was now getting anxious, when
he was about to be sent to the engineers’ department. Friends from his
district interfered with such effect that he was given a commission as
colonel of Virginia troops, and the command of Harper’s Ferry.
General Beauregard held a position about sixty miles away across the
Blue Ridge Mountains. Near Manassas Junction and the Bull Run water, was
the Union General McDowell. President Davis received on July 17
Beauregard’s telegram: “The enemy has assaulted my outposts in heavy
force—send forward any reinforcements at the earliest possible instant,
and by every possible means.” The first Virginia Brigade of Johnson’s
army marching with Jackson were reserved in the woods at Bull Run to
support the left. McClellan made his first attack on the twenty-first at
this point. The battle had waged but a short time, when it looked bad
for the Confederate side. Federal troops were rapidly moving to the
front of the stream, and the Confederate line gave way. Jackson steadied
his men as the Carolina and Georgia troops rushed into the ravine. They
listened not to the shouting of their generals, Johnson and Beauregard.
The enemy turned to destroy Jackson’s line, and complete their victory,
when General Bee cried, “General, they are beating us back.” The deep
lines stood out on Jackson’s firm face as he replied, “Well, we will
give them the bayonet.” Bee rode up to his men and shouted, “Look, there
is Jackson standing like a stonewall.” This rallying cry went through
the lines, the men turned and advanced, and Jackson gave the order to
charge,—“and yell like fury.” The Federal troops fell back, and this,
the first great Confederate victory, was won.
Contrary to custom Jackson did not go into winter quarters at
Winchester. He wanted to go ahead. He felt that the duty of a soldier
was to seek out the enemy and fight him. This, he said, was the only way
to shorten the war. Accordingly he prepared to attack the Federal forces
at Bath and at Romney, up in the northwest. But the winter was a severe
one, and his men suffered greatly. The way was covered with ice and
snow. Thy had to cut through the untraveled roads; the horses could not
get a footing on the ice, and two miles a day were all they could make.
His men were dissatisfied; others spread the news in Winchester of
Jackson’s ill luck, and he was criticised severely. General Loring wrote
to Richmond of the danger of an attack on Winchester, and the secretary
of war telegraphed Jackson to recall his general. Jackson was displeased
at this. He felt on the whole that his campaign was successful. He was
indignant at the action of the war department, and, ordering General
Loring to return to Winchester, resigned from the army. General Johnson
delayed the letter, and wrote to Jackson, approving of the Romney and
Bath expeditions. Private citizens petitioned him not to resign, for the
Confederacy needed him. The “Governor of Virginia sent a kind of
ambassador to treat” with him, and later President Davis refused to
consider the acceptance of the resignation, and the governor personally
withdrew it. Jackson, with “views unchanged,” remained with his command.
General McClellan had now made up his mind to capture the Confederate
capital. General Banks commanded the right wing at Harper’s Ferry. His
plan was for Banks to force out all the southern troops from the valley,
then fall in with the army before Richmond. McClellan, thinking that
Jackson had fled from the valley, drew some of the Banks forces to him.
Jackson immediately returned and attacked the enemy at Kernstown, near
Winchester. The firing was hot and bloody, and the Confederate troops,
under Gannett in the centre, retired from the field, and the whole army
fled after them. One-fourth of Jackson’s command was lost, but he was
satisfied that the Federal loss was greater than his own, and that the
object of the attack had been gained. Banks had to stay in the valley,
the regiments which started to join McClellan were recalled, and in the
following April, President Lincoln withdrew McDowell’s whole corps to
defend the Capitol at Washington.
Jackson’s successful operation had gained much for the cause of
secession, and the Confederate government, to help him carry out his
plans, determined to let him have all the troops it could spare from the
defense of Richmond.
In May, 1862, Jackson found himself at Bull Pasture. On the eighth day
Milroy hit the “Stonewall Brigade,” and brought on the battle of
McDowell. During the three hours of fighting Jackson lost heavily in
killed and wounded. When night came on, the enemy lighting misleading
camp fires, retreated under the protection of Freemont. The Federals
reported a victory in this battle, and “God blessed our armies at
McDowell yesterday,” was the despatch Jackson sent to President Davis.
Ewell was immediately sent for, and Jackson started out for General
Banks.
On May 23, the Union forces held Fort Royal against him, then fled to
Banks, who was on a quick run to beat Jackson into Winchester. Banks
won, and planted his batteries on the outskirts of the town. Jackson
shelled him, and Ewell’s brigade drove the Federals through the town.
Jackson rested here for two days before marching on to Harper’s Ferry.
He wanted to invade the North, but Lee insisted that he first help him
drive the enemy away from Richmond. When Jackson received word to go
back into the mountains where he would be safe he answered: “Give me
fewer orders, and more men.” He evidently did not appreciate the danger,
for Lincoln had already ordered Freemont to join McDowell and Shields
and capture Jackson. A long march was ahead of him, and there was no
time to lose. His infantry which was called “foot cavalry,” on account
of its reputation for fast marching, had to travel forty miles to
Strasburg. Freemont could not reach them in time to do harm. Shields
took a wrong road, and could not repair bridges in time to overtake
Jackson, who, after a few skirmishes, reached Port Republic for a two
days’ rest.
On Sunday, June 8, Shields pierced his lines, and Jackson was almost
taken prisoner. Ewell and Freemont began the fighting at Cross Keys.
Jackson crossed the stream and joined them. Shields beat him back, and
it was only the arrival of Confederate reinforcements that saved the day
for Jackson. He made a flank attack, and Shields retreated. The
“Stonewall Brigade” now got a much needed rest of five days.