The 1st Illinois Cavalry and the Battle of Lexington, Missouri

The 1^st Illinois Cavalry and the Battle of Lexington, Missouri

                                                                By Rich Hanson

    The 1^st Illinois Cavalry was mustered in at Alton, Illinois in July of

1861.  From there it was ordered to St. Charles, Missouri, where a then

 little-known Colonel from Galena, Illinois, Ulysses S. Grant, was in

command.  They camped there about a month, learning to drill despite

not having been supplied with weapons or uniforms of any kind.  The

Department was under the overall command of the noted explorer John

 C. Fremont, who was based in St. Louis and turning out to be a gullible

mark for sharpers and corrupt contractors.  According to George H.

Palmer, a Monmouth College alumni who enlisted and kept a

journal in which he recorded his experiences, when the regiment returned to St. Louis and were encamped at Jefferson Barracks, they were issued swords and one-barreled horse pistols that were found to be worthless.

     On August, 25^th, 1861, the regiment was ordered to proceed to Lexington, Missouri, some 140 miles from St. Louis.  They arrived there on September 1^st.  After resting a few days they were ordered to move to Warrensburg along with Colonel Peabody’s 13^th MO.  On the 2^nd day of the march a courier arrived with orders from Colonel Mulligan for most of the regiment to return to Lexington.  Rebel General Sterling Price was marching north toward the Missouri River.  It was believed that he intended to attack the Missouri capitol (Jefferson City) in order to re-instate a Confederate government there.

     The 1^st Illinois arrived back in Lexington on September 10^th.  Colonel Mulligan, being the senior commander, assumed overall command of a Union force consisting of some 2700 men.  Price and his army had followed them closely, making camp at the Fairgrounds just south of town.  Price’s army outnumbered the Union force by nearly five to one, and to make the situation worse for the boys in blue, they had little in the way of artillery except for 5 small brass pieces and 2 small howitzers.

    The afternoon of Wednesday the 12^th, Price ordered his men forward.  The reconnaissance in force, some of which weaved among the tombstones of Machpelah Cemetery, took considerable casualties as a hot reception had been prepared for them by Colonel Peabody and the 13^th Mo.  The Federals only lost 4 killed and a number of wounded during this assault, which might have even ended more disastrously for Price’s men had a Union Officer not had issued a premature order for his troops to fall back.

     Both armies confronted each other warily for the next few days.  Finally Price made his move on the morning of the 18^th.  Ordering his men forward, they quickly drove in the Federal pickets, and their advance allowed them to set up four artillery batteries, totaling 13 guns to be set up.  They then unloosed 9 hours of their explosive fury upon the besieged Federals.

     Once described in a Lexington newspaper as “the largest and best arranged dwelling house west of St. Louis,” the Anderson House had been commandeered by the Federals and turned into a hospital which now housed over a hundred patients.  Noting its dominant position on the battlefield, Confederate General Thomas Harris ordered his men to take the position.  Angered at what he believed to be a violation of the rules of war, and seeing that given its position just outside the Union west line that his men were taking casualties from the Confederate sharpshooters firing into the Union trenches from the upper floor of the building, Colonel Mulligan ordered his nearby troops to retake the building.

     George H. Palmer was a member of that group.  He’d spent the

previous rainy night holding the reins of his horse, along with the rest of

his company, who were being held in a reserve position.  Finding this

 duty to be monotonous, he gave the reins to a companion.  As he

shouldered a musket, and accompanied the assault on the hospital. 

Palmer vividly records the adventure in his journal…

     “I joined them in the charge.  We reached into the building and drove the enemy from the lower floor, some of them running toward the river and some of running up the stairs.  They kept up a fire from the upper story and from the direction of the river so that many were killed and wounded of our party.  After getting possession of the lower floor we were no better off than we would have been had we nothing at all of the house.  I saw the officers trying to get their men to go up the broad stairway to drive the enemy from the upper story.  With urging and ordering and threatening no one offered to take the lead up the stairs.  It looked like a desperate attempt.  I was now filled with dash and enthusiasm.  I ran forward and jumped onto the second step of the stairs and turned to the men and said “If you will follow me I will lead you!  We must drive them out!”  They cheered and came forward like dear brave men that they were.  And on we went with a yell and a rush.  We went to the doors which were closed and locked.  I knocked open one door with the butt end of my musket and stepped into the room, there were five Rebs there, 2 of whom raised their guns to shoot me.  I yelled at them to surrender which they did after seeing the men behind me”

     George Palmer was later awarded a Medal of Honor for his heroic

initiative in this action, but what occurred immediately after this incident

is still a subject of controversy.  Having taken five prisoners and their

arms, he ordered them out of the room.  Getting them down the stairs, the

soldiers on the ground floor spotted them, and frustrated and angry at the

havoc that the sharpshooters had wrought upon their comrades, they

rushed and bayoneted or shot all five of Palmer’s prisoners.  Palmer later

recalled it as “horrible sickening butchery,” and he came close to

becoming a victim of their fury as well as he pushed aside bayonets in a

futile attempt to save them.  The justification given by others for the

murder of these men though were that they had violated the rules of

combat by taking a hospital and using it as a shelter to fire from.  The

Union assault incurred some 30 dead, some of whom were sacrificed

because the attackers had to be prudent in their fire to prevent killing

their sick and wounded comrades.  It was later said that some of the

rebels were crouched and firing from behind sickbeds occupied by

bedridden Union soldiers.  Despite the heroics and the bloodshed, the

Union forces only held the hospital for a little over an hour.  Harris

ordered his men to retake it, which they accomplished with their superior

numbers.  The Anderson House still stands on the battlefield today, the

scars of rifle and cannon shot bearing testimony to the fierce fighting that

 centered around it.

     Palmer had praise for the brave fighting done by the Missouri Regiments and their Colonels Peabody and White, but in his journal hurled withering scorn upon his commanding officer, Colonel Sam Marshall, who he labeled as “inefficient.”  Palmer noted that he saw him two or three times during the battle. The brave leader was laying in the deepest trench that he could find while the battle was raging.  Palmer watched his commander at one point urinate while he was on his hands and knees, being too afraid to raise himself to stand upright while the fighting went on.

     The next day the Confederates consolidated their gains and kept the besieged Unionists under a heavy bombardment.  By this time thirst was also a foe that the bluecoats had to deal with.  Wells within the Union lines had gone dry, and the Confederates were situated to deny access to either the river or to a nearby spring. 

     On the evening of the 19^th Confederate General Thomas Harris

discovered some hemp bales in a nearby warehouse.  He came up with

 the ingenious idea of converting them into a moveable breastwork.  The

bales were all soaked in the river overnight to render any heated rounds

fired into them from the Union guns incapable of setting them ablaze.

 The hemp bales were rolled toward the Union line, the Rebels using

them as cover as they pressed ever closer. In some cases they were

stacked two high to provide additional protection.  It was time for a

desperation move if the defenders would be able to hold on.  George

Palmer was a part of it, and he describes it in his journal..

     “Things began to look bad for us.  My company was ordered to charge mounted these breastworks (a thing perfectly absurd) We were armed with horse pistols and sabres.  We would have to ride all the way under the enemy’s fire and would have to jump or make our own horses climb over our own ditches to reach the enemy’s infantry who were strongly posted behind hemp bales with two pieces of artillery in position behind the bales.  We mounted and at the command forward rode out of the ravine.  The Charge ended just as I supposed it would.  Lt. Douglas rode at the head of the column.  I was near him.  The head of column had no sooner debouched than a terrific fire met it.  Douglas received a wound in his leg and went at once to the rear.  Two men and several horses were shot, the column hesitated then became confused, and went back to cover, which I thought a very wise thing to do.”

     By early afternoon this rolling fortress had been pushed close enough

to the Union lines to where it became obvious to Colonel Mulligan that

the Confederates could rush and overrun his greatly outnumbered force.

 He opted to surrender at about 2pm.  The surrendered Union soldier

were then compelled to listen to a speech by deposed pro-Confederate

Governor Claiborne Jackson who harangued them for entering his state

without being asked to and for waging war upon its citizens.  The Union

troops were then paroled by General Price with the exception of Colonel

Mulligan, who refused parole.  Price was so impressed with the

Colonel’s demeanor during and after the battle, that he loaned him his

own horse and buggy and ordered that he be safely  escorted to the Union

lines. 

     Colonel Estvan, one of the Confederate leaders, paid tribute to the Bravery and tenacity of the Union defenders.  He observed that “cut off from all help, short of provisions (water), opposed by a force three times its number, even the bravest might feel discouraged.  But Colonel Mulligan met our attacks with undaunted bravery, and when we approached too near, he sallied forth and drove us back.  It was only after fifty-two hours of uninterrupted fighting, when all its means were exhausted that Mulligan, finding his small garrison was worn out by exertions and without a chance of relief, resolved, after holding a council of war, to hoist a white flag as a sign of capitulation.”

     George Palmer was among those who were collected as prisoners and paroled, but he slipped away before he had to take an oath that he would not fight against the Confederacy until he was duly exchanged.  The fact that his regiment had never been uniformed worked to his advantage.  His informal dress made him look more like a Rebel, so he took advantage of this and slipped away in the confusion before the oath was administered.

     The next morning (the 21^st) he and his comrades began their march north to the Hannibal and St, Joseph Railroad.  He complained that the Rebels started them off without a mouthful of food, although they had captured enough supplies when they took Lexington where they could have distributed them 2-3 days rations.  He, like so many of his fellow soldiers, was forced to beg for food during the 40 mile march to the railroad.  From there they travelled to Quincy, Illinois, and from there to St. Louis.  The regiment was mustered out in October of 1861 by order of the Secretary of War.  Palmer sourly observes in his journal that “when this regiment was organized it was one of the finest regiments in the Volunteer Army.”  He paused, then wrote and underlined for emphasis the next six words.  “It was ruined by its Colonel.”

    Thus perished the 1^st Illinois Cavalry.  Not with a bang, but with a

stroke of a bureaucrat’s pen.  Hard luck and poor leadership can be

written on its obituary as the reason for its early demise.

Notes

     Many thanks to Phil Reyburn for the packet of information he supplied me.  I could have fleshed out other personalities as well, but given the suggested word limit, it seemed natural to let George H. Palmer take center stage.  His Civil War Journal is accessible online, and the man’s literate and cogent observations really helped to bring the battle to life.  I also accessed the following

“The Patriotism of Illinois” 1865

“History of First Cavalry “ Adjutant General’s report

 “Monmouth Review Atlas” 10/04/1861

“First Battle of Lexington”  Wikipedia

    

His Command Was Never Known to Retreat

General Franklin C. Smith    by Rich Hanson

     Circumstance can lead to some unusual historical coincidences.  Given the number of men that Knox County sent to fight for the Union during the Civil War, it was likely that some individuals who demonstrated superior leadership skills would rise to the rank of General given the large number of troops it took to suppress the Rebellion.  Four men who achieved that rank are buried in Knox County.  You’ll find two (Philip Sidney Post and Arthur A. Smith) buried in Galesburg’s historic Hope Cemetery.  What is unusual is that the other two (David R. Clendenin and Franklin C. Smith) share a cemetery as well, on the outskirts of the village of Oneida, Illinois. 

     Franklin C. Smith is perhaps the least known of the four Generals.  It’s unjust obscurity, since during the Civil War he led a regiment, the 102^nd Illinois Infantry, which compiled an impressive fighting record. 

     Smith’s life began in Portageville, New York, on July 14^th, 1824 to Cyrus and Lovina Smith, originally from Vermont.  His father was a veteran of the War of 1812.  No doubt the stories related by his father and other veterans of the wars against Great Britain stirred in young Franklin a desire to serve his country someday in a similar manner.  He pursued his early education in Portageville, and then studied for a year at Madison University (now Colgate) in Hamilton, New York.  With that training under his belt, he then taught for a number of years in the town of his birth.  Tiring of teaching, he turned to contracting, and soon gained a creditable reputation in that line of work.  He took a great interest in the construction of the Geneseo canal, and he did extensive work on the Erie Canal besides undertaking other large contracts, soon acquiring a reputation for possessing much natural mechanical ingenuity and talent in civil engineering.  This occupation, which also included a number of railroad contracts, occupied roughly fifteen years of his life.  During these years he also found time to study law under a lawyer who was the former partner of President Millard Fillmore.  Although he chose not to pursue a career in law at this time, the training he received would serve him in good stead later in his career.

     In 1856 he married Sarah M. Gilbert of Batavia, New York, by whom he would have three children.  After residing in New York for three years, during which time he also served as Assessor of Internal Revenue from 1856-57, he took the advice of some of his family members who had preceded him, and moved west to seek his fortune.  He settled in Oneida, Illinois in 1859.

     He’d hardly had time to get settled in his new community when the Civil War broke out.  He recruited Company I of the 102^nd Illinois Infantry, one of 6 companies (A B D F H and I) of this regiment that were raised in Knox County and organized in Knoxville.  The rest of the regiment was filled by Mercer, Warren and Rock Island County men.  On September 2^nd, 1862, when the regiment was mustered into service, William McMurtry was chosen to be Colonel of the regiment, and Franklin Smith Lieutenant Colonel.  The 102^nd was then ordered to Peoria and from there to Louisville, Kentucky. From there they were part of the Union force that pursued CSA General Braxton Bragg and his men from October 1^st through 16^th.  During the time period of October 16^th through November 26^th they moved to Gallatin, Tennessee via Frankfort, Bowling Green and Scottsville.   William McMurtry didn’t remain the regiment’s commander long, being mustered out toward the end of October.  A letter from Allen Wilson, a soldier in Company K, who did not survive the war, falling victim to a lethal fever, wrote to his sister Louisa Jane….

     “What little time we have had for drill, we have had no one who knew how to drill us.  In the first place we had old Col. Abe McMurtry and to say the best of him he was an old drunken ass that knowed nothing nor cared less.  We disposed of him and elected Col. Smith Colonel of our regiment who was known to be the man to drill us and prepare us for battle.  He knew nothing of military tactics and taken no pains to inform himself and the natural result of it is we are not drilled.”

     Wilson’s criticism of his commander was not echoed by Stephen Fleharty, a member of the 102^nd, who in one of his letters to the Rock Island Argus, letters compiled into the volume Jottings From Dixie by Phil Reyburn and Terry Wilson, wrote that

     “Through the changes in army life, I am again disconnected from the 102^nd, having been detailed as clerk at Gen. Paine’s headquarters.  The regiment is in very good condition at present.  There is a general harmony between men and officers.  Our Colonel, F.C. Smith takes a deep interest in the welfare of his men, and is an excellent commanding officer.  The morale of the regiment has greatly improved since he has been placed in command.”  In another letter he wrote that…

     “Colonel Smith, our commander, is using every means in his power to insure the effectiveness of his regiment, and persons joining his command can depend upon having an able leader.” 

     Colonel Smith remained in command of the regiment until the end of the war.  Stationed in Gallatin until June of 1863, the regiment then moved to Lavergne, Tennessee, where it did railroad guard duty at Lavergne and Stewart’s Creek until February 25^th, 1864.  After being assigned to scouting duty from Lookout Valley to Deer Head grove in Georgia, Smith’s unit was part of the Atlanta Campaign as part of The Army of the Cumberland.  This campaign took until September 8^th, and added some impressive battle tags to the regimental flag.  Some of the more fierce engagements included the battles of Resaca, New Hope Church, Allatoona Hills, Big Shanty, Kennesaw Mountain, Lost Mountain, Peachtree Creek, and the Siege of Atlanta.  At Resaca, on May 15^th, 1864, the 102^nd took part in a daring charge across a ravine against a Rebel fort, which they captured, Smith being one of the first men to enter the fort.  On June 16^th, 1864, near Pine Mountain, Georgia, Colonel Smith suffered a leg wound that would lay him up for 6 weeks.  Sergeant Major Fleharty in another letter to a Rock Island newspaper writes of the wounding of his commanding officer.

     “The skirmishers commenced their work at an early hour the next morning, and in a short time our Colonel was wounded in the left leg.  He had proceeded to the skirmish line to post a number of sharpshooters, and as he was about to return was singled out by a rebel sharpshooter, who evidently discovered his rank.  The ball struck above the knee and passed through the limb, barely missing the bone.  The men were intensely excited when the Colonel came in, limping and leaning upon the arm of one of his men.  They gathered around him with anxious inquiries,-to all of which he replied: “I am only scratched a little, boys.”  He was unwilling to admit the serious nature of the wound, and was with difficulty persuaded that it was necessary for him to be taken to the rear.  He felt as if he were leaving his own children in an hour of great peril, and the men realized that they were being deprived of a commander who has ever been true to them. 

     Colonel Smith has been traduced by slanderous writers at home, since he assumed command of our regiment.  It was represented that he was unpopular with his men.  If his cowardly enemies could have witnessed the scene when he bade us goodbye, they would have been forever silenced.

     As a military commander he has won for himself a fine reputation.  Calm and cool in action, he handles his regiment in all occasions with masterly skill.  Unlike many other commanders he has ever looked upon his men as citizen soldiers; not hirelings.  While enforcing proper discipline, he has never been tyrannical.  He cannot be with us again during this campaign.”

     On August 10^th, 1864, as soon as he was able to walk, Colonel Smith returned to his regiment, proving Sergeant Fleharty to be a poor prophet.  After the fall of Atlanta, General (future 23^rd President) Benjamin Harrison was granted a furlough to return home to Indiana.  Colonel Smith was raised to the command of the brigade which included his 102^nd.  He retained command throughout the March to the Sea and the capture of Savannah.  After Harrison’s return he was granted a furlough to return to visit his family in Oneida.  During this time, on March 13^th, 1865, Franklin C. Smith was awarded the rank of Brevet Brigadier General in recognition of his “gallant and meritorious services during the war. Now “General” Smith, he rejoined his regiment on April 13^th, 1865, near Raleigh, North Carolina, missing the Battle of Bentonville, but just in time to share in the Army’s collective grief at the assassination of their beloved President Lincoln.  After bring present to witness the surrender of Joe Johnston’s army on April 26^th, he marched with his brigade to participate in the Grand Review of the Armies in Washington D.C on May 24^th 1865.  Benjamin Harrison, the brigade commander, gave Smith and his 102^nd the honor of marching at the front of the brigade during the review.  He also had the opportunity to meet with President Andrew Johnson, who treated him with great respect and complimented him on the valuable service that he’d rendered to his country.  The 102^nd rightfully deserved the praise.  It lost 119 men during its Civil War tenure; 51 men killed or mortally wounded by the Rebels, and 68 to a more insidious foe; disease.

     Franklin Smith returned to Oneida and became prominently connected with the construction of the Fort Scott and Western Railway.  The collapse of this ambitious venture embarrassed him financially, since he had dipped into his own funds to pay his employees in order to keep the struggling line afloat.  He moved his family to Galesburg in 1874, and drew upon the legal training that he’d had earlier in his life to work in the office of the Honorable J.C. Stewart.  During 1877-78 while Stewart was serving as mayor of the city, Smith filled the office of City Attorney.  He followed that profession for a number of years, and his opinions on law matters were said to be models of clearness and perspicuity.  General Smith also became involved in the building of the Central Illinois Railroad.  During President Grover Cleveland’s administration he was appointed to work in the Revenue Office in Peoria, and from 1883 to 1885 he served as Galesburg’s Superintendent of Streets.  It was remarked upon at the time of his death, in Galesburg, on August 19^th, 1891, that “he was ever loyal to the public trusts reposed in him, and he was equally faithful in the discharge of every private duty.”  An 1899 History of Knox County pays him the wonderful compliment of stating that “this command (Smith’s 102^nd) was never known to retreat.”

             Sources:

Hunt and Brown’s Brevet Brigadier Generals in Blue

History of Knox County, 1899 and 1912

Phil Reyburn’s and Terry Wilson’s Jottings From Dixie: Letter of Sergeant Major Stephen Fleharty

Franklin C. Smith Find A Grave Memorial

Rootsweb.ancestry.com  Allen Wilson Letters

Wikipedia   102^nd Illinois Volunteer Infantry

Charles F. Matteson's Four Years of Civil War Service

     One of the many stones you’ll encounter while walking through Galesburg’s Hope Cemetery is that of Captain Charles F. Matteson.  Upon seeing his stone, let your mind take you back to April of 1861, just after the rebels fired upon Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor, forcing the Fort’s surrender on April 14^th.  This act of war prompted President Lincoln to call for 75.000 men to help to put down the Rebellion.

     Illinois patriotic fervor was at a white heat, and Knox County wanted to send their share of brave young men to the front.  On the morning of April 18^th a meeting was held at Dunn’s Hall to arrange for the formation of one or more companies.  Charles Matteson was one of the men chosen to draw up enlistment papers.  This was more difficult than was anticipated, since the committee had no models of such papers to draw on.  Finally coming up with a form that satisfied the members of the committee as meeting its needs, the members of the committee, including Charles, were the first subscribers to the document, with the exception of one member, a Mr. Delano, who was deemed too old to serve.

     Once a group of men were signed up, they were taken to the Police Magistrate’s office where they were administered the oath that bound them to serve as volunteers.  By one in the afternoon more than 125 men had enlisted, and a meeting was held at Gordon’s Hall at 114 East Main Street, where the company was organized and elections were held for officers.  Francis M. Smith was elected Captain.  Charles F. Matteson, 3^rd Sergeant.

     Charles Matteson at this time was a blue-eyed, 5’9” 26 year old blonde-haired gentleman who was single, and worked as a clerk.  He had been born in Floyd, in Oneida County, New York, in 1835.  His parents moved to Warren County, Illinois in 1837, and eventually settled in Galesburg in 1850. 

     A telegram was immediately sent to Governor Yates stating that a company had been organized and that they were waiting for orders.  Word came back that Illinois had filled its quota, and that they were to wait for another call for troops.  Arrangements were made to in the meantime quarter the members of the company that didn’t live in town in an old barn on Kellogg Street, between Tompkins and South Street.  The citizens of Galesburg provided blankets and other necessities.

     The company remained there until May 1^st when it was moved to the fairgrounds at Knoxville.  They made comfortable billets out of the horse stalls, and took their meals in the “Floral Hall,” with R. M. Hale acting as caterer.  The company remained there until May 7^th, when Governor Yates ordered the several companies that had been formed in the 5^th Congressional District to assemble in Peoria and be organized into the 17^th Regiment of Illinois Infantry.  On the morning of May 13^th they met at the Galesburg Depot and took the train to Peoria.  At 4 pm they were sworn in.  Leonard F. Ross of Lewistown was elected Colonel of the newly formed regiment, and Charles Matteson 2^nd Sergeant of his company.

      On May 27^th Sergeant Matteson was again part of a committee.  This one drafted a resolution from his company, calling themselves “The Galesburg Invincibles,” thanking the citizens of Galesburg for the many kindnesses that they showed the men while they were quartered there, and for the flag bestowed upon them.  They pledged that

          “The flag, the gift of our lady friends, shall be our rallying point, the remembrance of its fair donors our encouragement, and the principles it suggests our incentive to fight, and sooner than surrender it in disgrace to the enemies of our country, we will wall it about with the bodies of the dead and pour out our last blood in its defense.

     The 17^th first travelled to Missouri, where Charles Matteson participated in a battle in Fredrickson, Missouri, on October 21^st, then the assault on Fort Donelson from February 13^th – 16^th, and in the heavy fighting near Shiloh Church in Tennessee on April 6^th and 7^th, where he was twice wounded.  He stayed with the army for the siege of Corinth, but then was ordered north to help recruit and train a new regiment. 

     During the stay in Missouri, the 17^th was stationed at Cape Girardeau during the winter of 861-62, before the move into Tennessee.  Washington Davis, in his book Campfire Chats of the Civil War, recounts a story that Charles Matteson related to him.

          During the winter many of the boys fell sick with that greatest scourge of the army, the measles.  Among the sick was one “Bob,” full of the driest wit imaginable.  Bob was very sick, so much so, that we thought he was going to “turn his toes to the daisies” – a poetic form of saying that one was going to the Great Hereafter.  I was a sergeant in his company, and as such it was one of my duties to visit the boys, and in cases like his to learn, if possible, what disposition they wished made of their personal property; also to take any last message for their friends at home, and to say to those friends that johnnie or Jimmy was the “best, most faithful, honest and obedient soldier in the company,” and that since he was gone we did not know how we should get along without him, etc. etc.  As Mark Twain says, “It soothed them” and did not hurt us at all.  Well, I had received Bob’s “Last Will and Testament,” what I was to say to the boys for him, bade him goodbye, telling him to keep a stiff upper lip, that I would have the whole company come down when we “planted” him, which should be done up in the best style, and started for the door, when the nurse called me back, saying “Bob wants to tell you something else.”  I returned to the cot and inquired,

          “Well, Bob, what is it?  Is there anything else?

          “Yes, Charlie, I wish”—and he spoke very slow and labored, with a pause after almost every word;--“I wish—you would tell—one more thing for me.”

          “Of course I will,” I said; “what is it?”

          “I wish you would tell ‘em, when they plant me, to place me with my face down, my head to the east, and a clam shell in each hand.”

          “All right,” said I, “I’ll do it.”  Now I knew if I did not ask him why he wanted to be buried so, it would be the death of him in less than an hour, as there is nothing more fatal than an undeveloped joke.  “But why so, Bob?” I asked.

           “Well, I think, Charlie, if old Gabe would put off that horn business of his a reasonable length of time, I could tunnel through under the Mississippi, and come up from Illinois, for I’d hate like hell to rise from Missouri.”

           The relieved and satisfied smile that crept over his tired face, and the merry twinkle of his eye, satisfied me that Bob’s request would not be complied with then.  He served out his full term of enlistment, and still lives in the state that he was so anxious to rise from.  I think the effort saved his life.”

     Leaving Bolivar, Tennessee about the 27^th of July, he reported to Canton, Illinois with Lieutenant Stockdale.  They were both ordered to drill the companies of the 103^rd that had gathered there until they were ready to move to Peoria.  He and Stockdale were then ordered to Peoria to continue working with the regiment.  On October 2^nd of 1862 he was elected 1^st Lieutenant of Company G of the 103^rd, and moved out with the regiment when they were ordered to Mississippi.  He served with the company on the M. & C. Railroad, then with the 1^st Division at the rear of Vicksburg and at the siege of Jackson, Mississippi.

     Charles Wills, by this time, had formed a favorable opinion of his 1^st Lieutenant, and wrote admiringly of him in a letter home.

          “I think I have an excellent company, though I have but few men that I ever knew before.  Charley Mattison is my first lieutenant, and John Dorrance my second.  The 1^st lieutenant is able, willing and industrious.”

     He continued to see action, rejoining his regiment, he participated in the Chattanooga Campaign and the Missionary Ridge assault.  Then he served on Colonel Dickerman’s staff during the Dalton Campaign. 

    Continuing to accompany Sherman’s army as it moved toward Atlanta, he was appointed Assistant Quartermaster of the 4^th Division of the 15^th A. C.  This made him responsible for procuring clothing for the men of that division, and placed him for much of the time in charge of the division’s advance ordinance train.

     When the 4^th Division was broken up, Lieutenant Matteson’s ability to handle logistical assignments earned him the responsibility of being placed in charge of all the hospitals of the Army of Tennessee at Marietta as Assistant Quartermaster A.C.  Then he was ordered to take charge of the trains of that Corps until the army reached Savannah in December and Fort McAllister was taken.  Then his responsibilities increased again.  He was named Assistant Quartermaster of the Military Division of the Mississippi and Master of Marine Transportation at Savannah.  In this capacity he received all of the supplies that came in from the North, and also overseeing the Marine Machine shops and all captured property of the marine nature, Savannah being a major seaport.  He also re-pressed and shipped some 32,000 bales of captured cotton north under the direction of Samuel Draper, the Collector of the Port of New York. 

     On March 14^th of 1865 he was sent to Morehead City, North Carolina, where he performed similar duties, with the addition of railroad transportation to the front at Goldsboro and Raleigh.  After Joe Johnston’s surrender he was ordered to Alexandria, Virginia to accept similar responsibilities.  After he was finally relieved of those duties, he took a ten day leave, then joined his regiment at its encampment north of Washington D. C., finishing the war in command of his company.  He travelled with them to Louisville, Kentucky, where on June 6^th, 1865 he received his promotion to Captain.  Later that June he was mustered out with the rest of his regiment.  The Union had no further need for their services.  During his four years of service, Captain Matteson had fought in 28 battles and many other skirmishes.

     Captain Matteson was proud of his war record.  He was a member of the George H. Thomas Post No. 5, Grand Army of the Republic of Illinois, and served as its commander for a year.  He made a point to attend the annual Veteran’s Encampments, both State and National, whenever he could, despite the expenses he incurred in order to travel to them.  He also was part of a committee again.  This time in 1904 to help compile a book of Reminiscences of the Civil War from Diaries of Members of the 103^rd Illinois Infantry. 

      In 1908, in Chicago, at the home of his brother, Dr. Arthur E. Matteson, nephritis did what Rebel bullets failed to do, and fell the gallant veteran.  His illness had been a long and debilitating one.  He had been confined to his room for the past two years, and during the last year he had been unable to lie down.  When he could sleep, he slept in a chair, and throughout that time he had to endure constant physical pain.  His brother arranged to have him cremated, and his ashes buried in the family plot in Galesburg. 

    The Military Order of the Loyal Legion published his obituary, and in it paid tribute to the man.

          “It matters little to society when some men die; men who have added nothing to the benefit of their fellow man: when they are gone we feel no sense of loss.  But there are other men, and companion Matteson was one, by whose living the world has been the gainer.  He was endowed with a rare personality.  He had a large and generous nature and was ideal in his friendship.  He was of a positive and insistent character; his honesty and well-sustained self- respect was in evidence in all times and under all circumstances.

           Companion Matteson’s unfailing loyalty and his pride in his country presented itself in such a confident and forceful manner as to make him an inspiration to others.”

Sources

Campfire Chats of the Civil War             Washington Davis, 1884

Army Life of an Illinois Soldier                  Letters and Diary of Charles W. Wills

Memorials of Deceased Companions      Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, 1912

Reminiscences of the Civil War                 from diaries of the members of the 103^rd Illinois Inf. Illinoiscivilwar.org

Charles F. Matteson Papers                      Galesburg Public Library Special Collections

Illinois Civil War Detail Report                   Civil War Soldiers and Sailors system search/    Illinois.gov/genealogy

Peoria Daily transcript 5/28/1861

 

Etched in Stone: The Story of John Shook

In a lonely rural cemetery in Western Illinois, a young casualty of the Civil

 War is buried.  His is a story and a site that deserve to be better known.  Recently

 one of John Shook’s descendants, Alfred Marion Chard, has self-published a

 
beautiful volume containing the “Civil War Letters of John Shook” through

 Blurb.com. The volume is pricey, but the treatment of the material is superbly

rendered, justifying the purchase price..  The letters and the wonderful stationary

and illustrated envelopes from that tumultuous time are rendered in color, and Mr. Chard

 has transcribed the letters as well to make them easier to read.  He’s done a good job

describing the events that the letters refer to, and relating what little information that’s

known about young John Shook.

     Quotations from young John’s letters can perhaps give you a slight glimpse of

 the young man’s character.  I’ll go easy on these as to not quote too extensively

 from Mr. Chard’s volume.  The book is available through purchase or inter-library

 loan.  The numbering used to indicate the letters below are the numbers Mr. Chard uses

to refer to them in his volume.

 

Letter #9 talks of young Shook’s initial impressions of how long the war would be.

         

          “it is a general opinion that we will never get into a battle and most every body

     thinks that the war will end in about three monthe more.  This is my third letter that

     I have rote to you since I have been in this camp and I have not received any

    answer yet.  I do not no whether it is because you have not got mine or what.  We have

     to live on hard cracker hard anuff to nock a bull down with and full of live sockto.

     But for all of this we get along fine and have plenty of fun.  There has been one or

     two ridgements left here in the past week.  Give my regards to the rest of the folks and

     tell them to right to me. So no more at the present but remains your affectionate son.”

   
 Letter #31 talks of the Battle of Pea Ridge.

           “…you wished to hear from my company to know if any of theme was killed in

     the battle of pea ridge.  I should have wrote to you sooner and let you knowed, but

     I supposed you had saw it all in the papers.  there was 1 killed and 1 wounded.  Wm

    Gipson had his right arm taken off.  There is no prospect of us getting to the army in

     less than a month or two.  I have nothing more worth writing at the present.  Yours

     untel death..”

      Letter #36 was written in Mississippi after day out in the field.  One gets a good

 sense of the fog of war and the rumors and fears that men fell prey to.

           “…..about a week ago our company and company B were orderd out on a

     scout to support a battra.  We martched down near Boonville where we encamped

     untell a few days ago when our scouts informed us that the enemy was gathern all

     around us and it soon became evident that we would have to fall back or else we

     would be cut off and be taken so we fell back about 5 miles but we had scarsley got

     out of camp 2 miles untell there war a rebbel battery planted in our old camp.  But

     however we lay in our new positoun undisturbed untell about tenoclock yesterday. 

     Some of the boys wer off a blackburring and some one place andsome and other.

     I wer a burry hunting amg the rest and I had got out a mild from camp and had

     found some fine burrys and wer a macking good use of them when I heard some

     cavalry a coming a long the road.  I suspisiond them so I scadadeld into the brush

     ubtell they passed & they proved to be cesesh so as soon as they got passed I maid

     my way back to the company & I just got back and they wer faling into line.”

     From that point every few minutes a cavalryman would come galloping up with a

 new report, but after several miles of marching, counter-marching, and being ordered

 to fall back and form battle lines on a few occasions, Shook and his comrades finally

 pitched camp, still looking over their shoulders anticipating an attack.  It never came.

Young John ended his letter thus…

          “…so we were orderd back where we now lay but how long we will lay here I

     do not knowfor we ar a looking  for to be attacted every minit and if they don’t soon

     attact us or leave we will them.  I do not have time to write any more at the present.

     Yours untell death.”

     Letter #49, the last of John Shook’s letters, is written from the Union camp on

 Millcreek, TN.  In it he writes of the impending battle that seems certain to occur.  He

 waxes philosophical about how his army experiences have changed him as well.  In less

 than a week the Battle of Stone’s River will take place.

        ….”we have stood out in line of battle at leaist half of our time for the last week, and

     We ar looking to be called out in lin every minit.  They are a cannonading out on the picket

     line write livelyand have been for the past 2 hours.  Whether it will bring on a general

     engaingement or not I do not know.  I think that if they dont soon attact us we will soon

     move on theme.  You stated that mother did not know my likeness and she thinks I  have

     changed.  So the likeness was the best one I every had taken all excepet one part of the

     neck is shaded to mutch.  I do not dont but I am changed or at leaist I am very much

     sunburn.  You cannot itspect that I look as I did when I left home for I have hardly

     saw the inside of a house since I left home and there has been over a month at a time

     that I have not seen the inside of a tent and I believe that I was a better man when I left

     home than I am now or every will be again…”

      He ends this final letter with……

                     …”the nuse just came that we wer agoing to move forward tomorrow.  William

     Kingsland send you his best respects.  Nothing more at the present yours untell death.

                                                                                                          Farewell

                                                                                                                  John Shook”

 

      Farewell John Shook.  “Yours until death.”   He ended so many of his letters with that

 morbid closing.  It’s almost as though the young man had a premonition that he would not

  live to the end of the war.  He was, indeed, wounded mortally at the Battle of Stone’s River.

 

     Now, on to John Shook’s final resting place. As with much of history,

 time is its worst enemy.  The inscription on the weathered white obelisk is slowly

wearing away.  Before the ravages of weather or vandals consign this stone’s story

to memory, though, a student of Civil War history might resolve to make a pilgrimage

 to Salter’s Grove Cemetery, situated near the border of Warren County, barely

 in Henderson County, Illinois.

  

The cemetery rests amidst a pastoral setting of farmland now, two intersections

 south of Highway 34, but as you look at John Shook’s monument, let your mind

  carry you back to the end of December in 1862 when Union and Confederate armies

 were squaring off near Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

  John Shook’s birthdate is given as March 13, 1842.  That made him less than

twenty-one years old as he stood shivering with his regiment on that cold December

morning of the 31^st.  Despite his youth though, he was already a veteran who had

survived the bloody battle of Pea Ridge and.  New Year’s Eve would be

 the first day of the Battle of Stone’s River.  As John’s obelisk tells us,

he was wounded there later that day.  His regiment was the 36^th Illinois Infantry;

information also etched on his stone.  His monument even tells us that he served in Company C.

          On the 31^st John’s regiment had bravely slugged it out against their determined

 Confederate foes.  The 36^th Illinois suffered 46 killed, 151 wounded and 15 missing,

 eloquent testimony to the ferocity of the fighting in their sector of the battlefield.

     John’s obelisk goes on to relate that he was taken to Nashville after the battle.  He died

there on January 17^th, 1863. Reading further on the one side of the stone, we find that John’s

 father made the long, heart-rending journey to Tennessee to be with his wounded son, and

eventually to bring his son’s body home.  In the dead of winter, driving a buckboard with

his son’s coffin behind him, or gazing disconsolately at the bleak winter landscape from the

  window of a train, the landscape must have looked to him like a world devoid of life, of hope. 

 He no doubt wondered bitterly, as any parent would, what his son had died for. 

 Did his sacrifice mean anything at all?  The stone goes on to tell us that young John Shook

 

was interred in the frozen ground of the cold, wind-swept cemetery on February 13^th, 1863.

     John’s father no doubt wanted his son’s death to have some meaning, something more

 

than the poignant details of his son’s wound, suffering and death, and the trip that he

had made to Tennessee to bring his boy’s remains home.  He wanted something to fling

at the Copperheads who were so vociferous in Illinois, men who had no love for the

 Lincoln administration; men who couldn’t appreciate the patriotism that drove his son to

 fight for the Union.

  Carved on the opposite side of the obelisk are his son’s bitter words.

  Words that his father wished to have carved in stone as well for the world to view…

 and take note of.

          “The last opinion of JOHN SHOOK on the rebellion

          was that if our once proud America is lost

           it will be by the traitors of the North

           when they get in power and betray us

           while we are fighting in the South.

     In this rural Illinois cemetery we can read a tale of sacrifice, of grief and of bitterness.

 It’s a poignant portrait of a casualty of war that is etched eternally in stone.