crash through the tree tops above our heads. This was not of long
duration, until a rebel line of infantry came out of the woods and
charged the fort. The fort reserved their fire until the rebels got
close up to it, and I began to fear that it would be taken, when all at
once it let loose with artillery, and a galling infantry fire from a
line of troops that we had not seen. Such a noise I never heard. The
smoke and the gathering twilight hid all the combatants from view, but
we could tell from the sound of the guns that the rebels were falling
back, and that the Union infantry was following them up. Directly all
firing ceased, and we knew that the enemy had been repulsed. At this
time we drew two days’ rations of beef and flour, but before we had time
to cook it we were ordered to fall in, and under a heavy guard began
marching to the rear. The whole rebel army came pell mell, almost a
stampede. The cavalry and artillery filled the road, the infantry going
through the fields. The cattle they had stolen in Maryland were also
driven through the fields, the drivers yelling and swearing, making the
air hideous with the din. A fine residence of a United States Senator
was burned to the ground.
All this made an impression upon my mind that I will never forget. I
learned afterward that after their repulse at Washington, the word was
passed that General Hunter was advancing from Harper’s Ferry to attack
them in the rear. We marched all night and forded the Potomac at Edwards
Ferry early the next morning. We waded the river, which came up to my
arm pits. I being small. We camped near a big spring not far from the
river, where we rested and cooked what little we had. The next morning
two days rations were issued, and cooked, and we again took up the march
passing through Leesburg, Va., and on through Snickers Gap, getting to
the Shenandoah river after dark. Here we camped for the night. The next
morning they allowed us to bathe in the river. We resumed the tiresome
march and pressed on to Winchester where we halted in the edge of the
town. While here we drank from a spring the coldest water I ever saw. We
then marched to Kernstown where we encamped for two days. Here Joseph
Rowland and Joseph Hays of my company made their escape. This left
eleven of our squad still prisoners. Sergeants James Nichols and Rees
McCall; Corporals James and William Harrison, brothers and Privates W.
W. McCracken, Thomas Broaders, Philip Frank, Wm. Houser, James Cruit,
Peter Garratt and myself. The stop here gave us a much needed rest, and
we again drew our two days’ rations of beef and flour. Two days’ rations
may sound big, but a hearty man could eat it all at one meal without
discomfort. I do not remember the exact amount, but know that it was not
near enough to satisfy our hunger.
We again resumed our march bound for Staunton up through the beautiful
Shenandoah valley, passing through New Market, Mt. Jackson and Willow
Springs. At Staunton we boarded the cars and rode to Charlotte. Here we
went into camp and drew what they called rye bread and tainted salt
beef. The bread was the worst I ever saw. It was dough inside with a
thick hard crust, that could hardly be broken, when it was broken the
dough rolled out. The next morning we were again taken by the cars to
Lynchburg. Here we were placed in a tobacco warehouse. The floor was
covered with dried tobacco juice and licorice, at least that was what
the boys said it was. I did not use the weed. We remained here a few
days, I don’t remember how long, I only recollect the stinking meat
issued to us.
While here I passed my sixteenth birthday, the 26th of July. On the
27th, we went on to Petersburg and Richmond Junction, thence to
Danville, arriving there on the 28th. We were assigned to Prison No. 7,
an old tobacco warehouse. The first floor was used as a hospital, the
second, third and fourth stories for prisoners quarters. I was put in
squad No. 7 on the second floor. We were fifty men to a squad in charge
of a sergeant whose duty it was to draw rations for the men and to
detail two comrades each day to carry water from the Dan river, about
200 yards from the prison. Here the hard prison life began. There was a
cook house near the prison, the cooks being Union soldiers. The rations
were corn bread made of corn and cob ground together, sometimes with
salt, often without. Once in a while we had bean soup made from black or
nigger peas, as they called them. A little bacon in the soup full of
skippers. I could not eat it, it was so filthy, I only ate a small piece
of the corn bread each day.
I cannot go into detail, each day was like another and very monotonous.
We suffered from the heat when we first went into this prison. There
were five squads of 50 on our floor, and when we all lay down at night,
there was no room to spare, we were packed like sardines in a box. To
economize space we would lie in rows across the building and when we
turned over all would turn. On a hot night the stench was fearful. We
remained here during July and August using water from the Dan river.
This was stagnant, in pools, for the river had almost dried up in the
summer. The rebels would march us past as nice a spring of good cold
water as ever flowed and would not allow us to get it, but take us to
the river, where we skimmed the green scum from the surface with our
buckets and dip water from the hot, stinking pool. The hot weather
created thirst, and the prisoners drank it as fast as it was carried to
them and cried for more. If our guards were not in the humor we would
have to wait until they were ready, consequently there was great
suffering from thirst. About the last of August, Smith Miller of Company
E of our regiment became suddenly insane, and was taken to the hospital
where he afterward died. Philip Frank of my company was also sent to the
hospital where he died. Many of the men became sick and we were all
growing weaker day by day. In September an order came to exchange a
certain number of the sick. When the doctor came to examine them, I took
Samuel Jones to him, Jones could not walk, so Joe Shepard and I carried
him down. The doctor passed him and then asked me, “Now what is the
matter with you?” I told him, “Nothing, only I want something to eat.”
The doctor replied, “If you would say so, I will pass you.” I said, “No,
take some poor fellow that was sick, I am not sick, and I do not intend
to die in prison.” The boys of my company that were released at this
time were James Nichols, Reeves McCall, James and William Harrison and
Peter Garrett. The two Harrison boys died at Annapolis, Maryland, on
their way home. Disease and exchange now cut our number down, but our
condition did not improve, we were growing weaker every day for want of
food. In October I was sick with diarrhoea and went to the hospital. The
sick were better cared for, and the nurses were detailed Union soldiers.
The doctors were Rebels, and did not have much regard for the prisoners.
I remained in the hospital but did not get any better. In October Thomas
Broades was brought into the hospital, paroled on sick leave, and
afterward died at Annapolis. Later in the year William Houser was
brought over to the hospital, but only lived a few days.
Between Christmas and New Years Day I took the pneumonia and the doctor
told me, “Well, little Yank, you will have to die,” I told him, “I will
never leave my bones in the southern confederacy.” He put a fly blister
on my chest and the next morning I was better. Then I had inflammation
of the bowels, and he swore I would die. He had no medicine to give me,
but put another fly blister on my stomach. The blisters broke in the
night and the water run all over me. In the morning I again felt better
but soon erysipelas set in, where the blisters had been. He then said I
must be painted with iodine. This the nurses refused to do, saying that
I would die, and did not see the use of torturing me, but let the boy
die in peace. The doctor said it must be done. They asked me about it, I
told them if they would let Edgar Hulbert of the Twenty-third O. V. I.
who was a nurse, paint me I would never say a word. He did the job and I
kept my promise. About a week later I was up and walking around. I
improved rapidly, and on the 25th of January I was returned to the
prison. About this time the United States sent some clothing to us, but
not enough to go round. I drew a blouse and my comrade McCracken a
blanket.
It was now very cold in the prison, some would sleep under blankets
while others marched around to keep warm. We kept this up until becoming
exhausted, we would rouse the sleepers and take their places. This was
kept up continually day and night, as long as we remained at Danville.
About the 10th of February we were placed in the cars and carried to
Richmond, Va., and put in Libbey prison. We suffered terribly from the
cold on this trip. We were weak and our clothes were worn out. I was
dressed in the blouse spoken of, remnants of a pair of trousers and a
pair of socks that I had taken off a dead man. My pants were so badly
worn that I would not be presentable in good society. But comrade
McCracken had his blanket and we snuggled under it in one corner of the
car and done the best we could until we landed in Libbey.
There has been a great deal said about Libbey prison, and truly too, but
it was the best one I was in, we had a warmer place to stay and a
greater variety of food, although the rations were extremely small. Here
we talked about being exchanged, we thought we had been brought here for
that purpose. On the morning of February 20th, a Rebel officer came to
the prison and told us to get ready for parole. There was a glad lot of
poor boys, all was excitement. The officer went away and did not return
until afternoon when he returned with other officers and clerks and
called us up in line. We took the oath of parole to do no duty for the
United States Government until regularly exchanged. This we gladly took.
That night we had a big time, nobody slept, in the morning we were going
back to God’s country and home. Comrade McCracken sold his blanket for
fifty dollars (confederate) and bought six pounds of flour with it. We
made flap jacks and baked them on a stone, ate and talked about what we
would eat when we got home.
In the morning we were taken on board the rebel flag of truce boat, I
was very weak, but Joe Shepard the good Samaritan of our regiment helped
me aboard, and we started down the James river to Harrison Landing. Some
one shouted “there is the old flag.” In an instant everybody was alert,
and on looking down the river we caught a glimpse of “Old Glory” through
the tree tops on one of the boats of our fleet. Such a time I never saw,
we were the happiest boys on earth. We cheered, we shouted, we cried, we
prayed, we were so happy. Many were going back to die, but they were
glad to get where they could die under the dear old flag. We landed at
Harrison Landing where the 25th Corps (colored) was stationed. It looked
queer to me to see them on the skirmish line opposing the Rebels. Each
fellow had his “gopher hole” to dodge in, one big black fellow picked me
up like a baby and carried me back through the lines. They all came
running to us with something to eat, those great black fellows with
white hearts. My man carried me as far as he could go, and I walked a
short distance to the river, where the transport “New York” was waiting
for us. We went aboard and had a good meal of soft wheat bread, pickle
pork, coffee with sugar and condensed milk, I thought I had never tasted
anything so good. We arrived at Annapolis on Washington’s birthday,
February 22, 1865.
I have tried in my own feeble way to tell something about my prison
life. I have written it from memory and there may be some errors of
dates, and etc. An old man’s memory is sometimes faulty. I have not told
of all the horrors that I have witnessed, no tongue can tell nor pen
describe what I have seen in these hells. To tell all would make a book,
what I have told is true. I was discharged March 29th, 1865, at Todd
Barracks in Columbus, Ohio.
WILLIAM R. BROWNING
_Private, Company I. 149th O. V. I._
_Chillicothe, Ohio._
INCIDENTS
While we were in camp at Chain Bridge we occupied the crest of a hill or
ridge that sloped gradually to the south, making an ideal camping ground
for the army. As night drew on camp fires were kindled and twinkled by
thousands over the slope while the soldiers prepared their supper.
Stories of their adventures and songs served to pass the evening. When
the time came for “lights out,” a drum corps on the right began playing
“The girl I left behind me.” A brass band in the centre struck up “Home
Sweet Home.” These were all the tunes we recognized, for every band and
drum corps in camp began playing. Pandemonium seemed to have broken
loose, as the great volume of sound came up. Tunes could not be
distinguished, the discord was terrific. It gradually died away as band
after band ceased playing. A deep silence came over the plain, the stars
blinked in the summer sky. The army was asleep.
OBSERVATION ON THE MARCH.
Once on our march toward Snickers Gap I saw a squad of soldiers taking a
cow from a farm lot, they had tied a rope around her horns two were
tugging at the rope, and others were pushing. The woman of the house and
her children were crying and begging them to let her alone. The argument
was still on as we marched along.
On this same march we passed a field where a fight had taken place a day
or two before. The dead had been buried and the wounded removed, but the
field was full of dead horses. The stench from the swollen carcasses
lying under the sweltering rays of the hot July sun was terrific. We
hurried past as fast as possible, breathing a sigh of relief when we
came again into the pure air of the mountains.
HARPER’S FERRY.
Harper’s Ferry was the gateway to the south. It was captured and retaken
many times during the war by both Union and Confederate armies. Situated
at the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers, with Loudon and
Maryland Heights surrounding it, it was a natural fortress. The town was
the target for both sides, and many of its homes carried the marks of
shot and shell. The United States Arsenal which was burned early in the
war, stood with roofless walls and tottering chimneys a silent monument
of the ravages of the conflict.
A pontoon bridge spanned the Potomac river a short distance above the
railroad bridge, over which the armies passed. When we marched across
the pontoon, orders were given to “break step,” least the swing of the
time step would break the bridge. This bridge was laid on boats that
were lashed together side by side, and anchored in the river, on these
stringers were laid and a floor on the stringers, rails were placed on
the edge to keep the wagons from slipping over. This, however did not
prevent some from going over, for I saw two wagons with their teams
lying overturned on the bottom of the river.
While in the town we went into the old engine house called “John Brown’s
Fort” where he put up his stubborn fight against the Virginia militia.
The loop holes through which he fired were still there. Every time we
passed through this town was on a Saturday, so we nick-named it
“Harper’s Weekly.”
SHOOTING DESERTERS.
A chain of forts encircled Baltimore, Maryland, from Fort No. 1 on
Baltimore street to Fort No. 12 in Druid Hill Park. Details were made
from the men at our fort for guard duty at these outposts. One guard at
each fort to remain all day, his duty being to keep a strict watch. One
day, (I being on duty at Fort 11), a squad of twelve cavalrymen came on
a full gallop down the road past the fort. Just as they came opposite to
where I was standing guard, the officer in command shouted, “There they
are, fire.” A volley from their carbines followed and two men who were
in a field running through the high wheat threw up their hands and
tumbled over dead. I heard afterward that they were deserters trying to
escape from Lafayette Barracks. The discipline was severe, some may
think too much so, but it was necessary in order to control the great
variety of characters that made up the army. When our company first came
to Fort No. 1 we found the guard house full of rough men of the New York
Artillery, and we were detailed to guard them. Of all low, rough New
York toughs, these were surely the worst. They took great pleasure in
guying the boys fresh from home, and their actions were disgusting.
Luckily they went away in a short time. One night two of them attempted
to break guard and escape. Our boys who were on guard fired at them, and
alarmed the garrison. A search squad was at once formed and the two men
were found lying on their faces in the ditch surrounding the fort,
nearly frightened to death. They were taken back to the guard house
saying, “they did not think the century plants would shoot,” but they
did. These fellows had a better opinion of us after that episode.
During our first march the boys began to pick up from the fields various
articles that they considered valuable as relics, intending to carry
them home. Bayonets and cannon balls seemed to be favorite articles for
collection. After carrying them for a few miles they began dropping them
one by one. We found out in a very short time that the less we had to
carry the better we could march.
I was fortunate in bringing home, and still have my cap box, eagle
plate, visor of my cap a tin flask and testament and hymn book. A
testament and hymn book was given to every soldier. But the most prized
is the engraved and engrossed card of thanks given by the president of
the United States, under seal of the Government, and signed by the
martyred friend of every Union soldier, Abraham Lincoln. A captain in
our regiment brought home a beautiful sword that belonged to one of
Mosbys’ men, and was found on the field after the fight at Berryville,
Va. It was a beautiful piece of work, ivory hilt, gold mounted, with a
scabbard inlaid with gold and silver designs. It was highly prized by
the captain, and no doubt would be more highly prized by the man who
lost it at Berryville.
CONCLUSION.
The hundred days service was hard, but it had a humorous side. Many were
the pranks played by the boys. Many pleasant hours we spent together,
and our experiences are told and laughed over today. At Fort No. 1 we
had our own string band, and every evening we had dancing or singing led
by Captain Peabody or Lieutenant McKee, some played cards, others went
down into the city taking in the markets, theatres, etc. At one time
down town a gentleman asked some of us, “Boys, what regiment do you
belong to?” We answered, “The 149th Ohio.” He mused awhile and said,
“One hundred and forty nine, that means a hundred and forty nine
thousand, my goodness boys do men grow on trees in Ohio?”
When we left Baltimore our hardships began, the first day’s march nearly
used us up, starting from Washington at noon, we crossed the Potomac at
Edwards Ferry at 5 o’clock, our feet were blistered as we hobbled along,
the first night we sank to rest, a tired, discouraged body of men. Our
accoutrements were heavy, our guns a burden, but a canteen filled with
water seemed heaviest of all, the string over the shoulder felt like it
would cut clear through. Our appearance after two or three marches would
have made Rip Van Winkle on awakening look like a dude in comparison.
We were ragged, tattered and torn, our shoes worn out, and the sacred
soil of old Virginia was ground into our system, from the dust that we
continually lived in. We thought the turnpikes of the Shenandoah valley
were the hardest in the world. But they were not too hard to sleep on,
when the weary soldier dropped in his tracks, the moment a halt was
made. I have seen the men marching sound asleep only awakened when their
heads came in contact with the tail board of the wagon in front.
This was the common experience of all soldiers and we did not complain,
we often said we would rather meet the enemy than to endure the fatigue
of the march.
The events I have tried to describe happened forty-seven years ago. Many
who were with us then have answered the last roll call and passed over
the majority. We who remain keep their memory green by strewing their
graves with flowers on each recurring Memorial day, while those of our
comrades who are sleeping in unknown graves in the south are not
forgotten in our annual tribute of flowers. Soon the last old soldier
will have gone to his rest, but his work will endure in a restored
Union, a nation that commands the respect of the world. We did what we
could, man or angels can do no more, we did not realize at the time in
what a great work we were engaged. I am glad that I was permitted to
live in those days, and take a little part in the great events that
resulted in a reunited country, whose flag is honored wherever it flies.
“OUR COMRADES”
Where are the boys we marched with?
Where is my old bunk mate?
The majority crossed the river,
The few on its margin wait,
We will soon hear the call of the bugle,
There is another river to cross,
The boatman will ferry us over,
May we all meet again without loss.
[Illustration:
GEORGE PERKINS
_Adjutant A. L. Brown Post No. 162 Grand Army of the Republic._
_Past Commander A. L. Brown Post No. 162 Grand Army of the Republic._
_Past Chief Mustering Officer, Department of Ohio, G. A. R._]
149TH REGIMENT OHIO VOLUNTEER INFANTRY ONE HUNDRED DAYS’ SERVICE
This regiment was organized at Camp Dennison, O., from the 8th to the
11th of May, 1864, to serve one hundred days. It was composed of the
Twenty-seventh Regiment, Ohio National Guard, from Ross county, and the
Fifty-fifth Battalion, Ohio National Guard, from Clinton county. On the
11th of May the regiment left the state of Baltimore, Md. Upon arrival
it was assigned to duty at various forts in and around the city, and
remained there until the 29th of May, when it was ordered to the eastern
shore of Maryland, and distributed at different points. About the 4th of
July the regiment was ordered to Monocacy Junction, and on the 9th took
part in an engagement with the enemy. The regiment lost in killed and
wounded about thirty, and in prisoners over one hundred. After the
battle of Monocacy it took part with the Sixth and Nineteenth Corps in
the marches in Maryland and Virginia. Portions of the regiment were with
the One Hundred and Forty-fourth when it was attacked by Mosby’s
guerrillas, at Berryville, Va., August 13. The regiment returned to Ohio
August 20, 1864, and was mustered out on the 30th, on expiration of its
term of service.
FIELD AND STAFF.
Mustered in May 11, 1864, at Camp Dennison, O., by Robert S. Smith,
Captain 2d Cavalry, U. S. A. Mustered out Aug. 30, 1864, at Camp
Dennison, O., by William Stanley, 2d Lieutenant 10th Infantry, U. S. A.
═════════════╤════════╤═══╤════════╤════════╤══════════════════════════
Names │ Rank │Age│Date of │ Period │ Remarks
│ │ │Entering│ of │
│ │ │ the │Service │
│ │ │Service │ │
─────────────┼────────┼───┼────────┼────────┼──────────────────────────
Allison L. │Colonel │.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Mustered out with regiment
Brown │ │ │ 1864 │ │ Aug. 30, 1864.
Owen West │Lt. Col.│.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Mustered out with regiment
│ │ │ 1864 │ │ Aug. 30, 1864.
Ebenezer │ Major │.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Prisoner of war; mustered
Rozelle │ │ │ 1864 │ │ out Sept. 15, 1864, at
│ │ │ │ │ Washington, D. C, by
│ │ │ │ │ order of War Department.
William A. │Surgeon │.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Mustered out with regiment
Brown │ │ │ 1864 │ │ Aug. 30, 1864.
Benj. F. │ Ast. │.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Mustered out with regiment
Miesse │ Surg. │ │ 1864 │ │ Aug. 30, 1864.
T. Q. │Adjutant│.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Mustered out with regiment
Hilderbrant│ │ │ 1864 │ │ Aug. 30, 1864.
David C. │R. Q. M.│.. │ May 2, │100 dys.│Mustered out with regiment
Anderson │ │ │ 1864 │ │ Aug. 30, 1864.
William │Chaplain│36 │ May 2, │100 dys.│Promoted from private Co.
Morris │ │ │ 1864 │ │ C May 18. 1864; mustered
│ │ │ │ │ out with regiment Aug.
│ │ │ │ │ 30, 1864.
George L. │ Ser. │31 │ May 2, │100 dys.│Promoted from private Co.
Wolfe │ Maj. │ │ 1864 │ │ H May 8, 1864; mustered
│ │ │ │ │ out with regiment Aug.
│ │ │ │ │ 30, 1864.
Austin H. │Q. M. S.│30 │ May 2, │100 dys.│Promoted from private Co.
Brown │ │ │ 1864 │ │ C May 9, 1864; mustered
│ │ │ │ │ out with regiment Aug.
│ │ │ │ │ 30, 1864.
Edward F. │ Com. │23 │ May 2, │100 dys.│Promoted from Corporal Co.
Beall │ Ser. │ │ 1864 │ │ A——; mustered out with
│ │ │ │ │ regiment Aug. 30, 1864.
James F. │ Hos. │32 │ May 2, │100 dys.│Promoted from private Co.
Sproat │ St’d. │ │ 1864 │ │ F May 11, 1864; mustered
│ │ │ │ │ out with regiment Aug.
│ │ │ │ │ 30, 1864.
═════════════╧════════╧═══╧════════╧════════╧══════════════════════════
COMPANY A.
Mustered in May 8, 1864, at Camp Dennison, O., by Robert S. Smith,
Captain 2d Cavalry, U. S. A. Mustered out Aug. 30, 1864, at Camp
Dennison, O., by William Stanley, 2d Lieutenant 10th Infantry, U. S. A.