EXPERIENCES OF A PRIVATE
SOLDIER OF THE CIVIL WAR
PART TWO
By George Morgan
Kirkpatrick
These letters which were
written prior to, during and after the war, together with miscellany are self explanatory.
Evansville,
Ind.
Dec.
30th, 1860
DEAR SISTER:
I take my pen in hand
for the first time in my life to inform you how I am getting along, at present.
I have had a hard spell
of sickness. I am as saucy as ever. I am going to school
now to get my education for I‘m going to make a drayman of myself.
I am going to send my kisses
to you, and hope to come see you. Tell Fletcher that I want to see him, for he
must be a man by this time.
Excuse this bad writing
and spelling, for now I must bring my script of paper to a close.
Give my best respects to
each and all.
Yours truly,
G.M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
“Washington"
Evansville, Ind.
"Why dont you take it?" Dec.
15th, 1861
Miss M. J.
Kirkpatrick.
DEAR SISTER:
I take my pen in hand to
let you know that I am well at present, and have been well since I left home.
I like a soldier's life
better every day. We had a muddy time of it coming up here. The
mud was knee deep. We camped three times.
I have told the boys I
would like to go farther away from here as there is a fine camping ground in
view.
(Les Laurence is now
sailing in the door of my tent.)
We have fine times here,
drilling all day. We have fireplaces in the tents, which makes them
warm, and there is plenty of straw in my tent.
I have only been on
double duty three times since leaving Henderson. I have been in the
guard house but once since enlisting.
Leslie L. send his
regards to all. He is fat and saucy and more devilish than
ever. He says he wishes he could get home Christmas.
George Deats sends best regards to Julia, and says he is going to
get married as soon as the war is over.
I like
this place first rate. There are about one thousand troops
here. I broke a tube in my gun and Liuet. Ohlmstead sent Luke down town to get it fixed. He
allowed it would cost about 30c out of my pocket money.
I would really like to
come home Christmas. I often think about Dad. Here I do
as I please, and if they don’t like it they can take less of it.
Our Captain is going to
be our Chaplin. Ohlmstead is Captain; Timble, our first Lieutenant, and our second Lieutenant is
not elected.
Give my best to all the
good looking girls there, and tell them that I expect to get home some
time. So no more at present.
Yours very truly,
GEORGE KIRKPATRICK
(it
is time for dress parade).
Write soon. I
am glad to hear from Dad.
*
* * * *
Shelbyville,
Tenn. April
6th, 1862
DEAR SISTER:
I take my pen in hand to
let you know that I am well and hope that this finds you in that state of
health. I received your letter yesterday and was glad to hear from
you and the folks.
I have not got tired of
soldiering yet and don’t think that I Will. We are now at Shelbyville,
about 60 miles from Nashville. When I last wrote you I did not know
that were going to leave so soon, and I
said that I was going over to see Bill. An soon as I sealed the
letter, I went up to the Cook’s tent, and there sat Bill.
I hardly knew him as he
is so fat. He said they had a hard time coming from Louisville,
through the mud.
We had a pretty hard
time coming here from Nashville, -and went out the road toward Alabama. After
we were five miles from town we had orders to go back, and so we went back and,
started for Murfreesboro, thirty miles distant.
We stayed there about
three weeks, and the last week Co. "A" had to go ten miles toward
Nashville to guard a Railroad bridge.
We were there seven days
and we eat a barrel of potatoes every day.
Then orders came that
our regiment was to start from there at one o'clock. We had to catch
up with the others who had ten miles the start of us. We started to
Shelbyville, thirty miles away and reached within ten miles of it that day, and
made it the next day.
It is one of the prettiest towns I ever
saw. I don’t think that we will stay here long for we will go about
a hundred miles the next trip.
You want to know what I
want done with my money, I want Dad to use it until I get ready for it, and I
don’t know how song that will be.
Tell Dad I want to come
home and see the folks, but that I am not as keen about it as he said I would
be. He said I "would be tired of soldiering inside of a
week." Well that week has not come yet.
One more thing! You
must tell Jule to write as I wrote last.
No more at present.
I remain your
affectionate brother,
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK
*
* * * *
Ringold, Ga.
May
6, 1862
DEAR SISTER:
It is with pleasure that
I write you…..
Well we have got out to
the front, and the Rebs are doing well. I
think it will not be long before we will enter their lines aid try their
constitutions and see what they are made of, and for the last time. We would
have stayed at Chattanooga but when our Colonel came to the regiment, (I
refer to McIntire) he told the General that his regiment should not work at
such a job, so they sent us out to the front, and here we are.
There are plenty of
Yankees-150,000 of them and that is quite a good many-quite a squad-and I think
that they will clean out the Rebs this summer.
They don’t take any more
prisoners now, and they kill all they get, and we do the same. That
will end the war quicker than anything else.
I liked to have got
killed about a week ago. I tell you it was hard. I was running after
one of the boys, and I fell into a grave and I liked to have dug one for
myself. I have not done any duty since.
We have a nice camp
ground. We are camping on Chickamauga Creek, and it is a nice little
town. The Rebs are in sight, but every thing is all right. I hope we may be able
to clean up the whole of them this summer.
Give my best respects to
each and all, I remain your brother, until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
"On to Shiloh" Fayettsville,
Tenn.
May
11, 1862
DEAR SISTER:
I......... am well and hope this finds
you in the same state of health.
The weather is fair
here, but the sun is so hot that when I am on guard I can light my pipe in the
sun. Today is Sunday there is preaching here.
I am sitting on the bank
of Elk River in the shade now, feel too lazy to walk. This is a bad
place for sickness. Our, regiment cannot turn out over 150 men or
200 men to fight.
Captain Atchison went to
Huntsville for the mail and it had been taken by Secesh,
so I expect that the letter I sent you has gone to Dixie for 90 days. I
sent all the news in it.
Tell Christ Granli that he will see a different boy when, I come me
home. I do not drink beer or whiskey nor any other kind of stuff. . . . . Tell Dad that I am not tired
of soldiering, and I think I can stand it as long as any of the rest of his
sons can.
Give my best respects to
all inquiring friends.
I remain your truly
until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Fayettsville, Tenn.
May
9, 1862
DEAR SISTER:
I take my pen in hand to
inform you that I am well at present.
………..I have not
received your letter as we stayed at Shelbyville, and the division went on to
Huntsville. When the mail came, it went on to the division. They
do not want to sort the mail here.
After I wrote you, half
of our regiment had a fight out at Wartrace. We
have moved on thirty miles toward Dixie, and I am glad. The rest of
our division had a large fight and we will be in it pretty soon, for we have
marching orders for Huntsville. I guess we will get a little mud as
we go forty miles in hilly land, climbing up and down, packing our knapsacks.
I have had the fever but
am well now. Our company is in town as a police guard, and I am at
camp. The first I heard of Bob being home vas from Jule's letter, which by chance, I happened to get by first
nail which we got since I wrote you...........I will tell you the reason why I wrote-I want you to
get me a dollar's worth of postage stamps and I will pay you for them when the
war is over, or sooner. Be sure to send them, for I gave a dime for
this one stamp, and could hardly get it at that price.
You need not send any
envelopes nor paper as I have plenty. Stamps are all that I want and
I will write you every day. Tell Alec to write, and tell me
everything for I am keen to hear from Indiana.
Best respects to all,
for I don’t care whether I get home or no any more. I
remain your obedient servant.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * * *
June
4th, 1862
Huntsville,
Alabama
Miss M. J. Kirkpatrick:
I was glad to get your
letter and to hear from home, the first time for a long, long, time. I
have had good health, generally speaking ever since coming to Tennessee.
I like soldiering very
well yet. We had a very good march from Fayettsville
to here (Huntsville). We are encamped about a half mile from
town. This is the prettiest town I ever saw. It is as big
as Evansville.
Our company and two more
went down the Tennessee River, and we had some fun. We crossed the
river and went five miles on the Cedar Mountain to hunt the Secesh. We
could not find any though so we got some hams and shoulders of meat and
chickens and came back.
We stayed there three
days. There has been a fight, where we crossed the river. We
are back at camp, now. I think we get paid off tomorrow, and I
expect to send a little money home......I will send home all that I can spare.
We can’t get provision
very easy now. We have to haul it sixty miles.
We have not been in a
fight lately. I was surely sorry to hear that Bob was wounded and
had to come home Tell Bob that I wish he had a new eye, and that gun of his and
that he was in his old regiment!
Then that would help to
put the war right through. My respects to one and all. So
no more now. I remain your brother until death.
GEORGE KIRKPATRICK.
to M. J., Kirkpatrick.
*
* * * *
"Our gunboat
boys"
Huntsville,
Alabama.
August
11, 1862.
DEAR SISTER:
I am well. I
was glad to get your letter and to hear from home. I was on prevost guard yesterday. I tell you we have had
a hard time.
We have been living on
half rations for about a month, but that do not make me “tired of soldering.”
O yes! I saw Bill Kirk
about a month age. His division passed through here and stayed
awhile. I saw John and Ben Massey and all the Gardgels
out of the fifth regiment. Bill told me to send his best respects to
you and all the folks.
We have been living on
corn and chickens and peaches all the time and apples are plentiful. We
don’t have to work, for things are different and negroes
do the work and we are getting to eat.
The boys would like to
have a discharge to get home to see their mammies. I would to, if I
knew it would crush the rebellion. I am a better soldier than you
perhaps think. You may think I am in the guard house every day, but
that is not so. I am just as good a boy for behaving as you can
find. I have never missed a guard yet, and am on guard every other
day.
It is so awful hot here
that you can mix up flour and lay it in the sun and it will bake quicker than
if you put it into the oven. We don’t need fire any more, we cook
all by the sun.
Tell all the folks in
the country I want to see them and talk to them about this
war, and get them to enlist, for this is worst time in the world.
Well now, Martha give my
best respects to all the girls and boys and tell them I am the same old George
and always intend to be.
I remain your
affectionate brother, until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
"The Whole Union
Forever."
Perryville,
Kentucky
Oct.
9th, 1861(2?)
On
the march through Kentucky.
DEAR SISTER:
I received your letter
at Louisville, but had no time to write there. Now we are one
hundred and five miles from Louisville. We had a little fight back
here a piece and lost heaps of men.
Our captain was killed,
also three men, Jack Riggs was one of them. It was a terrible time
for us, and in all we lost 3000 men and 90 men were either killed or wounded in
our division.
I heard many a ball
whistle past my ear, and one of them took off my hat rim. Still I
was not scared; I shot away 52 cartridges.
Tell Dad I am not tired
of soldiering. There were about twelve wounded in our company, four
killed, and four taken prisoners and paroled, but I escaped. I want
to tell you I made the Secesh Jump!
Cook sends his best
respects, and says he is glad he got out safely. Tell Bob I've seen
the elephant, so no more at present.
I remain your brother
until death. (In haste)
GEORGE KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
"Major General
Curtis."
Nashville,
Tenn.
December
6, 1862
DEAR SISTER:
I seat myself once more to
write you a few lines to let you know how I am getting along and hope that
these few lines find you well also.
We are camped on the
Cumberland River, and do not know how long we will stay here. I
think we will have a hard time this winter.
I wish I might have been
at the party. I would have felt like fighting two years longer in
this war........... I am
glad you got so much wood cut.
There are so many
soldiers here; but in the most desolate place in the country, between Bowling Green and here. There is not even a fence
rail to be seen, and pretty nearly every house is burned down. But I
will say one thing again, and that is "I am not tired of soldiering
yet," and that is one thing that I will stick to, but I am coming home
this winter if nothing happens.
There are stirring times
here at Nashville. We have had a long march since we left here, and
expert to have another one before we get home. I think if the
President does free the negroes, we will get home, for
the men will not fight for the negroes.
Give my best to all the
girls and folks. I remain, your brother until death,
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK
*
* * * *
“The Eagle and
Stars
Nashville,
Tenn.
And Stripes”
December
20, 1862
DEAR SISTER:
I am with my regiment……..four miles from Nashville. I
want you to send me a Christmas gift. You may send it
by express. I will remember you someday when I can do so.
There is someone of the
regiment there at Nashville who will get it to me, so Martha, you and
Julia and all please fix up a box of good stuff, and send it as quick as you
can to me, won’t you? When I get my pay, I will send you double what it cost
you to send it. All the boys are hoping for a box like that from home.
Remember, Martha, I will
be looking for the box. I wonder if you received the ten dollars I
sent home from Green River, Rolling Fork? I
sent it last payday.
I must close now, and
remain your brother "until death,”
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK
*
* * * *
"Ohio.
Murfreesboro,
Tenn.
"E Pluribus
Unum." March
8, 1862(3?)
DEAR SISTER:
I was glad to hear from
you, and that Dad had sold the place. We have had our pay, and I can not send much home to you, for we had to settle for all
of our clothing this time.
We are working on the
breastworks now and we cannot tell how long we will be here. Please
write soon and tell me whether bad got a place or not.
I will send a little money to you for a present.
I remain your brother, until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
The Eagle and
Flag. Huntsville,
Alabama
"UNION."
June, 1863
DEAR SISTER:
I like this place very
much. Since I wrote you, our company has been out on picket ten day-just got
in, and are going in the morning.
We received our pay
yesterday……….Stone and I have
been partners since we joined at Camp Vanderburg. He
wants to buy him a new watch and I think I will lend some money to him.
There is not much
stirring here just now………I kept my coat and everything I had, and I am going to
send my dress coat home, and also a pair of trousers. I want you to
lay them away in the drawer and have them for me, and I will get my likeness
taken, and send to you.
I have no time to write
for we are under arms and have been for twenty-four hours. We are
called minute men, and we have to be ready at a moment's notice, night and day
to go anywhere we are called. We had to sleep last night with our
accoutrements on, and knapsacks rolled up.
So no more at present,
from your brother until death,
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
P.S. Give my respects to
all my friends.
*
* * * *
Deckerd, Tenn.
August
5, 1863
DEAR SISTER:
…………..Sorry to hear
that Alfred was not able to help himself, being so low. Nothing to
do now but drill a little at present……………Bill is camped about a mile
from here. He is well and so is John.
……….I think we will
not stay here long for the cars are running to the Tennessee River and I thing
(think?) we will move shortly. There is a call for some regulars,
and if they get only up in our regiment, I am going.
They get $100 bounty,
and $13 a month. If I go, I will go in battery, and they will fill
up the old regiment with conscripts. Then the
"Forty-Second" will be a pretty regiment with conscripts in it.
They will not let
anybody in unless he has been in the service six months. What money
I sent home was not very much. Dad can go to the express office to
get it.
Closing I remaining your brother until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
Co. A. 42nd Indiana
1st Brig. 2nd Div. 14
Army Cumberland.
*
* * * *
Town on Lookout
Mountain.
Trenton, Georgia
Oct.
5, 1863
DEAR SISTER:
. . . . .We left Stevens and went to the River and crossed
it, marching six miles after dusk. We camped on the river, and got
up next morning and went up opposite Bridgeport and camped there. Next
morning we started up the mountain, and were all day going up.
We camped there, and had
to go two miles after water. The mountain is so steep that you could
throw a rock down and hear it going for an hour.
Next morning we marched
about ten miles across the mountain and camped for the night. That
morning we helped the wagons down the mountain and camped about seven o'clock.
There is only our
division on this road. Our Brigade went out to have a scout for the Rebs. They are not far distant and I expect that
we will have some fighting to do. There is no telling what rout we
will take, but I think we will try to outflank them at Chattanooga.
We are not far from the
Atlanta Railroad. All the boys are well and in good spirits. We
have to pack our knapsacks over the mountains. That is
nothing. I would rather march than lay in camp for weeks. We
can get to see some of the country this way. There is nothing but timber here……Write soon and direct to
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
Co. A 42nd Regmt Ind. Vols.
1st Brig. 2nd Division
14th A. C.
*
* * * *
Chattanooga,
Tenn.
Oct.
15th, 1863
"The U. S.
Christian Commissions sends this as the soldier’s messenger to his home. Let
it hasten to those who wait for tidings. Soldiers letter……….Chaplain U. S. A."
DEAR SISTER:
I did not hear from you
for four weeks. I wondered what was the matter…….We have had a hard time of it since I last
wrote you. We have been in a fight, but I suppose you have heard
about it, before now.
I had the luck to escape
this time, but there are lots of the boys who did not...........Short was one, and three other
sergeants also. We do not know whether Cook was killed or not. There
were eighteen out of our company that are missing.
We have been working on
fortifications since being here, and have been on a foraging expedition. We
had to go forty miles to get corn, and it was hard to get at that. We
have scarcely anything to eat, but I am well and all the boys are in good
spirits.
They are consolidating
the brigades. They have put our bridge in the 1st division,
14th A.C. The 20th and
21st A.C. are put together which makes the 4th A.C.
now, and Gordon S. Granger commands.
Now I must stop
writing. BUT TELL DAD I AM NOT TIRED OF SOLDIERING!
I remain your brother,
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Chattanooga,
Tenn.
Nov.
2, 1863
DEAR SISTER:
I take this opportunity
to write you to let you know that I am still alive, but that is about all, for
we get nothing to eat worth mentioning. I have got down so weak that
I can’t do my duty any more, and the horses and mules are dying off at the rate
of two hundred a day. So are the soldiers.
The rations I drew today
were one cracker and a half, one half spoonful of coffee, and a little piece of
meat for two days. That was all I got and I could sit down and eat
all of it and not have half enough. Now when it gets down to that
small rations, it seems to me the Army is pretty near gone up. I
cannot do my duty on such rations.
The Rebels hold Lookout
Mountain. We can’t get boats up with grub. We are
surrounded by Rebels and they have captured all our mules and trains. Six
mules, 60,000 men and six women comprise our force, and NOTHING to eat!
When we get Lookout Moutain, we will be able to get boats up. Then
Hooker is coming up on the other side, of the River. He has been
fighting three or four days trying to get the mountain. That is
pretty hard to do, for it is four miles high, and the Confederates have siege
guns on the top of it.
Sister Martha, it is
pretty hard, but I have to stand it. I love this country as well as
any man ever did. While at first I came out for the adventure of it,
in a way, for I thought that soldiering was so nice at Camp Vanderburg on the old fair ground in Evansville. Indiana, and
that it was that way all the time, I have seen differently, and I
am really fighting for love of my country and flag.
I have seen the elephant
at Perryville, Ky., Stone River, Chickamauga, Mission Ridge, and Lookout
Mountain. Today I paid my brother-in-law, Luke Short, $14.00 for 14
crackers that he had saved, and I have stuck it out, and I am going to stick it
out as long as this war lasts!
When my three years are
up, and I stay at home awhile, if I can keep my health, if the war is not then
over, I will enlist again, that is, if God spares me, long enough to see my
three years through!
Father used to tell me
when I was home and would not eat the crust of biscuit that I would see the
time when I would like to get it. At the time I did not believe
it. But now, I think of that very often when we get nothing for
three days at a time.
Our pickets and the
Rebels are so close on Chattanooga Creek that I could throw a stone and hit
them, but we do not dare talk. Sometimes our pickets sit on a log across the
creek and play cards like two brothers.
Our regiment, the
"Forty-Second Ind." is on picket every day; but today I was not
out. I had no shoes. I stood picket one night barefooted,
and refused to do so again. They put me in guard house, with no one
to guard me. So I picked up four old mules and moved the
Quarter-master James Vickery, over the River.
Later I drove the four
mules, hauling logs with them to build a fort, on the spot where the Post
Office now stands in Chattanooga. The poor mules starved to death in four
days. I must quit writing now, I remain your brother until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK,
42nd Ind. Vet. Vol. Inf.
1st Brigade lst. Div. 14 A.C.
*
* * * *
Chattanooga,
Tenn.
December
20th 1863
DEAR SISTER:
It is with exquisite
pleasure that I take my pen in hand to inform you that I am in good health and
in hopes that these few lines find you the same. The Company is all
well too, and the weather is good now, only rather cold. We have
been at work nearly every day.
Today is Sunday, and it
is a day of rest so I will write to you. I just wrote to
Dad...........The
Captain has re-enlisted and is trying to get us all in; also Colonel Wilder of
the "Seventeen" is here trying to get all of the Indiana regiments
in, and I think that they will get the biggest part our regiment in.
I think about coming
home, what it would mean, I could make two dollars where here I cant make 50c a day-if God spares me!
Please send me some
stamps.
I remain your brother,
until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Big
Shanty,
June
29, 1864
DEAR SISTER:
These few lines will let
you know that we are down in "Rebeldom" I
got to the regiment today for the first time in two months. I think
that if you were here just for a little while you would wish this infernal war
was over!
To hear the shells
coming whizzing over, and the little balls come pecking around you cannot
imagine how they do sing! In this cruel war every man has to run his
chance.
I suppose you know
Thomas Trimble got killed in the skirmish the other day, and his brother,
Captain Trimple (sp?) came
up with me, and never knew it until he got to the company. He took
it very hard.
I expect we will have
hard fight before we get through, but I can stand it, for I have done it
before. There is no more news, so I will close. I remain
your brother, until death.
I want all the people to
know we are fighting for our country. Not one of the Kirkpatricks has ever flinched from duty.
UNDER THIS JACKET THERE
BEATS A GOOD HEART, AND AS LONG AS THE FLAG WAVES OVER MY HEAD, I WILL FIGHT
FOR IT, UNTIL I AM DEAD. So help me God!
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Near
Atlanta, Ga.
July
29, 1864
DEAR SISTER:
I now sit down in the
presence of the enemy to write you, answering your letter of the 20th...........We are fighting all the
time. I can't write often, besides I had no paper. I
can’t tell you everything that has taken place. We have been
fighting ever since I last wrote. I have not been out of hearing of
the whistle of a bullet or the roar of a cannon since then.
We left Peach Tree
battle ground, six miles from here on the 22nd of July and came through the
Rebel breastworks that 6000 niggers built for the protection of Atlanta.
our brigade was in front of Thomas corp. 14, 1st
brigade, 1st division. We stopped to rest for a few minutes. Thomas
and all his staff were standing there talking. "Leather
Britches," a German officer who had gotten leave of six months from the
Kaiser to raise a battery to fight for this country at Pittsburg, was sitting
on his horse near General Thomas. In my hearing he said that this
place looked like the battle-field of Bull Run, and he would not be surprised
if it would not be another Bull Run.
A courier rode up and
handed General Thomas an order that told him that Atlanta was evacuated! Orders
were that he should march his troops immediately into the city.
General Thomas turned to
"Leather Britches" to have his bugler blow "Forward!" The
bugler, a French ex-soldier with one leg off at the thigh, turned on his
saddle, and blew, "Boots and saddle
forward!" with a French bugle.
The battery had come up
to the front to be ready and the "Forty-Second Ind." started after
Thomas. We had not gone 100 yards when some Rebels in a two story
brick house fired a volley, and the General never got off, but seemed to fall
off his horse.
Our bugler bugled for
our regiment to deploy as a skirmish line and the fight was on. At
the same moment McPherson's Corp was ambushed by all the Rebel forces, after
going through the same thing we did, ten miles from our 14th Corp.
It proved later that
there were not as many Rebels in our front. There were mostly
citizens of Atlanta, as we captured 600, but not one soldier. We
could distinctly hear the roar of the battle of Atlanta where McPherson was
killed.
Now the Rebels were
massed on both sides of the road, and when McPherson's Corps, marching into
Atlanta as they thought, there was a desperate battle. Our men
buried 400 Rebels, and 200 Union soldiers, and we captured 1,500 Rebels
Yesterday the left flank
moved to the right, and had a big fight and captured 700 prisoners from
them. I can’t tell you how long we will stay here. They have it
in the papers that we have Atlanta, but it is a great mistake.
Now at the present
moment I am sitting on the bank of the breastwork with a piece of cracker-box
for a desk, and the cannon and skirmish line and an orderly beside me making
fun of my writing etc.
Since I have been up to
the regiment at Bog Shanty, I have shot 2000 bullets out of my Springfield
rifle. We are two miles from Atlanta and shelling the city with hot
shot. You must not believe what the papers say.
I am yours truly,
"until death."
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK,
Private.
Co. A., 42nd Regt. Ind. Vet.
Vol. Inf. 1st
Brig. 1st. Div. 14th A. C. Dept
of the Cumberland
*
* * * *
"The U. S.
Christian Commission."
General
Hospital, No. 8, ward 6
Nashville,
Tennessee.
DEAR SISTER:
You already know that it
was on the 11th of this month that I was wounded. My
wound is getting along all right. You would not know me now, as I
have gotten down very poor, being that the wound was a very bad one. It
went through the left breast. It was hunting for my heart, but could
not find it.
I am getting plenty of
food, and can eat like a horse. I have not walked around any yet for
the wound is so near my heart, and it pains me. I just had it
dressed and it pains badly.
Do not look for me home
soon. Write soon,
Yours truly,
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Sent as a soldier's
messenger to his home. Let it hasten to those who wait for tidings.
"For God so loved
the world that he gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
General Field Hospital,
No. 6. Sept.
8, 1864
New Albany, Indiana.
DEAR SISTER:
It is with pleasure that
I take my pen in hand to inform you of my present situation. I
am here living as well as though I were at home. After staying in
Nashville ten days, I was transferred to Louisville, on a hospital train, was
there two days, and got a transfer to New Albany, Indiana.
My wound is getting
along all right. I have had almost no treatment for five days...........I feel nearer home here in my own
State. Do not look for me home soon, but may look for me at
Evansville, as I have a transfer there to the hospital. I wish you
would come down to Evansville in a week or so to see me.
I wont be able to go home on a furlough. My
wound is near the heart, and has not begun to heal yet, and I have to stay
where I can have it tended to. I wont
be able to leave for a good while yet. A rib was broken, and some
bones worked out of the wound. A good old German doctor attends me,
and I get enough to eat.
I remain your brother
until death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
O, blood red clouds,
cramping the sinking sun,
Drinking his waning life
away, Burn on.
And then a grave,
swallowing one by one,
Rob on, rob on,
till all that is begun,
And the pale universe
into the Gulf sinks down!
*
* * * *
Evansville,
Ind.
December
4, 1864
Hospital
No. 1 ward 2
DEAR SISTER:
I am now well and am
going to the front in a few days. I have been working in the kitchen
for the last week, and I get plenty to eat, but it is hard work.
I want to go out to
Nashville and help fight again. I may get wounded again, but I want
to go just the same. The hospital is full and I am needed here to
help with the cooking.
My wound is nicely
healed but I have not gained in flesh. I remain your brother until
death.
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Indianapolis,
Ind.
May
23, 1865
Miss Martha Kirkpatrick
DEAR SISTER:
………..We are leaving
tomorrow…….you may answer this as my mail will follow me. I
am to give up my present position, and go to Columbus, Ohio.
We will leave for good
this time, and I am glad bad place for the regiment- it is so hot. Maybe
we won’t go to any better place, for we will have to guard Rebs.
I turned in my gun over
to have it hauled there, as my arm is so I
cannot pack it yet……
Please give my respects
to all, your brother,
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK.
*
* * * *
Miscellany,
Poems, et altera.
"CHICKAMAUGA."
By
George M. Kirkpatrick
I was a hoosier farmer boy,
Who ran away from his employ,
And enlisted, like so
many more
To paint my bayonet with
gore.
For I had caught that kind
of itch
That often comes to
boys, and which
There's nothing in the
world can cure
Like Army life-so quick
and sure.
What the others did I
must try too.
I had my eye teeth cut
clean through
Before I saw my home
again
Or got half through my
first campaign.
I thought it must be
mighty fine
To march, all uniformed
in line;
Behind a noisy drum and
fife
That thrills all
youthful souls with life;
To have the girls in
rapture gaze
And clap their lovely
hands in praise,
As we went marching down
the street,
With jaunty air and
haughty feet,
A musket on right
shoulder laid, In grand review, on dress parade.
It fairly made me burst
with pride
To think what swathes
we'd cut-how wide!
And then 'twould be such lots of fun
To make those Johnny
Gray-backs run;
Go marching through
their captured towns
And see them trembling
at our frowns.
For who could stand one
moment where,
We'ed fling our banners to the air?
But-making Johnny Graybacks run
Didn't prove to be such
lots of fun.
And taking Rebel forts
and towns
Took more than angry
looks and frowns-
As we found out in
proper form
The first day's outing
in the storm.
*
* * * *
MEMORIES
The company of crowds
may dull the edge of memory's blade,
And keep our thoughts
from wandering unto mistakes we've made;
But when the dim lights,
burning low find us all alone,
Tis then we reap the
harvest of the worthless seed we've sown.
'Tis often thus in solitude, I leave the beaten
track,
And on the wings of
memory to happier days since gone;
I see my youthfull friends, and home, and faces long since gone;
I hear the songs we used
to sing; they haunt me when alone.
I feel again the
hopefulness, of life when just begun.
Alas! the
hopes have faded like the dew before the sun;
And looking down the
road of life that once I thought so fair,
I see the shattered
columns of my castles in the air.
I hear my mother's
lullaby, I see her tender face;
I see her sitting by the
hearth in the old familiar place;
And from the fountains
of my heart the silent tears will flow;
I live again in memory,
the days of long ago.
I seem to hear the music
of some long forgotten ball;
The strains upon my
memory, with mystic rhythm fall;
the misty distance I see, or think I see
A face that in the old,
old days was very dear to me.
The fairy, white-robed
vision floats before my tear-dimmed sight,
Then fades away to
nothingness within the deeps of night;
But throbbing in my
saddened heart I feel the same old pain
As when we parted
silently to never meet again.
And so they come and so
they go, these visions of the past-
Those silent, sad
reminders of days too sweet to last;
But let them come, these
fantasies of hopes and joys long gone.
For though they're sad,
they all are sweet to me, when all alone.
*
* * * *
"LONGING"
By George M. Kirkpatrick
Back to the old home,
viewing scenes of childhood,
There's where I knew no
care nor pain;
There in my childish
glee, under a woodland tree,
Oh, how I long to go to the
old home once again !
When in my dreaming,
visions rise before me,
They seem to take me
back once more-
Back to the spot so
dear, with my mother standing near
Yes, I can see her as in
the days of yore.
Chorus
Back to the old home,
take me;
There in my childhood I
roamed;
Back to the scenes of
those joyous days,
Back to the dear old
home.
Tho' I'm old now, still I love to linger on happy tho'ts of bygone day;
When thro' the woods I
wandered far from the dear old home,
Gathering the scented flowers
that grew along the way
Now I'm alone, no loving
hearts to soothe me-those that I
loved have gone before.
But while my loved ones
wait, there at the golden gate,
Take, oh take me back to
the dear old home once more!
*
* * * *
POSTWORD
George M. Kirkpatrick
was born in German Township, on a farm, January 5, 1846-the youngest of fifteen
children.
He enlisted in Co. "A”
Forty-Second Ind. Vol. Inf. in July 1861. Six brothers,
four brothers-in-law, three nephews and twenty-seven cousins were in the Civil
War on the side of the Union, while six cousins were in the Rebel army.
His father arrived in
Evansville in 1812, when Hugh Mcgarry lived in a
house built on poles, on Main Street at about 7th or 8th street. It
was the only house then built there.
........His father had
seventy-six grandchildren in 1862. He and his wife were married five
miles from Fort Branch, on a farm, in 1820. His father was on the
grand jury for about forty years after Vanderburg
County was founded, or taken from Gibson or Posey.
This record, dated Sept.
25, 1924, Evansville, Ind. states that Mr. Kirkpatrick had been living in
Chicago about fifty years at the time, and had visited, every year the reunion,
of Co. A, of whom the following were then living: George G. Bernard, Shuttler, John Albacker, and
Joseph Phar of Princeton, out of one-hundred eighty three men who enlisted, and
who were drilled by Captain Ohlmsted, and Col. Chas. Denby at the Old Fair Ground, with flint-lock muskets, four
others were, Captain Atchison, Trimble, Messick,
McCutcheon.
*
* * * *
SERVICE
By George M. Kirkpatrick
PERRYVILLE, October 8,
1862
STONE RIVER, December
31, 1862, and Jan. 1, 1863
CHICKAMAUGA, September
21st to 23rd, 1863
LOOK OUT MOUNTAIN,
November 23, 1863.
MISSIONARY RIDGE,
November 24, 1863.
RESSACA, May 14, 1864
DALTON, May 24, 1864
KENESAW, June 3, 1864
PEACH TREE CREEK, June
24, 1864
ATLANTA, August 11, 1864
*
* * * *
HISTORICAL NOTES
By George M. Kirkpatrick
"42nd Regiment
Indiana Veteran Volunteer Infantry.
1st Brigade, lst Division, 14th Army of the Cumberland.”
The
"Forty-Second" was enlisted at Evansville, Ind., Oct. 8th, 1861, at
the old Fair ground, marched to Henderson, Ky.; to Calhoun; to Owensburg on the Ohio River; embarked on steamboat, down
the river and up the Cumberland river to the relief of Fort Donelson;
then to Nashville, Feb. 25, 1862; then to Murfreesboro; Shelbyville; Fayettesville and Huntsville, Ala.; Whitesburg Landing, and
from thence crossed the Tennessee River going twenty-five miles through the
country, burning cotton gins; back to Huntsville; to Decard
station; to Shelbyville; Murfreesboro; Nashville, Bowling Green, Ky.; and
Louisville, Ky. Sept. 25, 1862.
Leaving Louisville, for
the battle of Chaplin Hills at Perryville, Ky., where our loss was 166 officers
and men killed, wounded and missing. From there we marched to Crab
Orchard, Ky.; then to Lebanon, Glasco, Bowling Green, and to Nashville; thence to Stone River
battle, Jan. 1, 1863.
We lost 150 officers and
men, killed, wounded and missing. We left Murfreesboro, June 25,
1863. Thence to Hillsboro, Winchester and Dechard
Station, Tenn., July 4, '63. Thence to Hillsboro, Winchester and Dechard Station, Tenn., July 4, '63; from there to
Stevenson and Brigeport, Ala., crossed Lookout
Mountain, Dug Gap, Pigeon Mountain, Georgia; then down to Chickamauga Battle,
where we lost 107 officers and men.
After this we went to
Chattanooga, and re-enlisted January 4, '64, for three years more. This
is called "veteranizing." In order to
re-enlist for three years more, having seven months more to serve, we, as a
regiment, had to vote, and it required three quarters to do so. Now as an
incentive to enlist we were ordered as Guard for the Eighth Indiana Battery
heavy artillery, to the relief of Knoxville Tennessee.
As it had been raining
for five or six days, the roads were bad. We had to chose between going up there and
re-enlisting for three years more or during the war, receiving four-hundred
bounty, all back pay and three months pay in advance.
After voting on it night
and day for forty-eight hours, we could not receive enough men, by two votes.
We had to form in line
every two hours and it pouring down min. At two o'clock at night, we
became desperate, and we got one man, who had been badly diseased, and was not
fit for service, to get in line; also one man with two fingers off his right
hand, who would not pass either, we made them get into the line.
One of us went behind
him and put our good right hand under his arm, and held it out so that the
doctor could see our two hands (?), eyes and teeth, by the light of a lantern
with a tallow candle burning in it-and THAT IS WHAT WE DID TO GET TO REENLIST.
Now, incidentally, New
York City had agents there, who offered us $800 cash to be quoted to their city
to fill their call for new recruits. But not US! We
voted to a man, to be quoted at home, where our fathers, brothers and friends
were being drafted in the service. We were promised money from our
state, county and town to help fill the state call. However we did
not get a cent, but we did prevent some of them from being drafted. Every
seventh man had to go.
When we returned to
Nashville, we could not get cars to ride in, so we had to march back to
Chattanooga a hundred and seventy-five miles.
We started on the
Atlanta campaign in May and were over three months in fighting. A hundred
thirty-seven miles to Atlanta. For three months there was not one
hour, we could not hear a bullet whistle around us, which is not pleasant to
say the least
I was only 15 years old
when I joined the army and nineteen years old when I returned, having fought
in 25 battles and 100 skirmishes; marched and, was transported 6000 miles, was
wounded five times, received $11.00 per month, and later $16.00. I never held
an office and am proud of it!
In my company was a
little drummer boy, 10 years of age, who served out his three years. His
father had been a lieutenant.
Each company had 100 men
in it. Ours did also, when we first went to the front, but when we
got out, there were only TWELVE of the original one hundred left.
We used to figure out
that it required 3000 bullets to every man who was killed, and considering how
many bullets each soldier had shot at him, there seemed only a slim chance to
escape from them. But even so, notwithstanding, sickness was our
worst enemy. To every one who died of wounds
seven died of sickness, so you do not have any choice as a soldier, but
sometimes would even welcome death, in preference to marching and exposure to
the weather and other hardships.
When at home, people
would ask us where we went when it rained and how the rebels looked. Those
seemed like foolish questions. For about two years we had no
tents. Each man had a piece four feet square with buttons on one
side and button holes on the other side. Two men would put theirs
together, and put up two little forked sticks, two feet high, and put a stick
across, and the two pieces buttoned together. Would form what we
called a pup tent, and which the officers called a shelter tent. My
partner and I were six feet two and one half inches tall, and when we got in
bed, two feet two and a half inches had to sleep out of doors!
*
* * * *
INDIANA CHICKAMAUGA
COMMISSION
Oakland
City, Ind.,
July
24, 1913
Mr. George M.
Kirkpatrick:
"The U. S.
Christian Commission."
MY DEAR COMRADE:
I remember you well and
I was glad to hear from you. You were a member of a good company,
and one that was always ready to do its part...... I think that Captain Ohlmstead,
if he had lived would have made a fine field officer, and maybe have attained
the rank of a general.
I am glad to see you at
the head of a Grand Army Post.
I don’t know what to say
about a Reunion of our old regiment, on the 20th of September, at our monument
in the Great Chickamauga Park.
I am a member of the
Indiana Park Commission, and I would be glad to meet with old members of our
regiment, and if I thought that we could gather any of the members of the
regiment together, I would be glad to make such a request through the papers,
in about
these words:
'THE FORTY-SECOND
INDIANA REGIMENT REUNION IN THE CHICKAMAUGA PARK.”
There will be a reunion
of the members of the Forty-Second Indiana Volunteer Infantry held in the
Chickamauga Park September 20, 1913. Fifty years from the date set
for this reunion, our regiment was in the very hell of battle on that
ground. COMRADES, this will likely be the last opportunity we will
have of visiting the scenes of that terrible battle.
WILLIAM COCKRUM,
Lt. Col. 42nd Ind. Vols.
*
* * * *
Grand
Island, Nebraska
February
8, 1913(4?)
George M. Kirkpatrick,
DEAR COMRADE:
The photos are fine……I
remember that on that Sunday morning-September 20, 1863, 1 felt very little
honor for any of the men. Why they ran away without any orders, and
in such a hurry, and I asked myself where were our officers, great and small?
I know two soldiers who
were not scared to death. I was just as cool lying there between two
fires as I am now, and you were the only one out of one hundred that had
bravery enough in, the face of death and the hail of bullets to stop and try to
get wounded comrade out of that hell of a place! You could not help
me. I told you to run and save yourself or we would both be killed,
that I was done for any how. You were shot
through both arms, and the blood running from the wounds in your arms
struck me in the face, and I never knew where the blood came from until fifty
years after, when we met at the spot again.
You left me in the hands
of the Rebs and by saving yourself, you were able to
fight many days afterwards (not behind a pile of knapsacks) I sometimes wonder
if maybe it would not have been as well if you had not written me and met me at
the battle field, Sept. 20, 1913.
For fifty years I did
not know whether you were alive or not (after you ran through that old fence
row of briars and bushes on the jump), but since we have begun writing and
since the trip to Chattanooga in 1913, you are hardly out of my mind when
awake. Write often for we must keep in close touch during the rest
of our short lives.
If those fellows behind
the knapsacks had had the gritt you had, they might
be alive today. I saw Tom Denison and many others run by me in the
hands of the Rebs, and Tom.....died in Andersonville...….
R. P. McCutcheon
Late Co. A 42nd Ind.
Vet. Vol. Inf.
1st Brigade, 1st
division.
Army of the Cumberland.
*
* * * *
I will go back to
Evansville, Indiana when George Kirkpatrick and myself with many others,
enlisted in Co. “A,” 42nd Indiana Infantry, for three years or
during the war. We were with the regiment in all its battles,
skirmishes, etc. Our command belonged to the Army of the Cumberland.
On the 19th of
September, 1863, we met the enemy under General Bragg at Chickamauga. At
that time we were in the 14th Corps, with Gen, George H. Thomas, Commander.
We supported our battery
all day Saturday. Seven horses were killed within fifty yards of us,
and how many men, I cannot say. We rested all night on our arms, and
at day-light, we marched to the extreme right, where we met Longstreet’s men.
We sent our skirmishers
along the Lafayette Road. They were soon driven in. The
fight was now on in earnest. After firing into the enemy, many
shots, our army fell back. I saw them coming about two-hundred yards
away, and I thought I would give them one more shot.
Just at that moment, a
musket ball hit me in the left hip, crashed through the bone, and there it
stopped, and it is there to this day.
I fell down and George
Kirkpatrick ran to me to get me out of that terrible hail of bullets. He
knelt down to cut the cartridge box off from me, when a bullet passed through
both of his arms, cutting the front of his shirt off.
I then told him to run
and save his life, that he would be killed if he remained, and that I was done
for anyway.
(He left me and served
to the end of the war, and was wounded five times.)
In fifteen minutes the
enemy were passing over me. They were very kind to me, the officer--
giving me water from their canteens. In the afternoon, the enemy
lifted me into their ambulance, and took me to their Field hospital, where
there were six hundred and thirty wounded. They very tenderly laid
me on the ground. I was the only Yankee there, and I was a show for
the country people. They came for miles to see a live Yankee. I
lay there for two months, then was put on the cars and taken to Atlanta, Georgia.
I was put into a
military prison, with four or five hundred wounded Federals, and remained there
three months, all the time on my back.
I was exchanged February
20, 1864 At Rossville, Georgia. There were thirty of us, all badly
crippled. We were hungry and nearly naked.
WHEN WE SAW THE UNITED
STATES FLAG FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FIVE OR SIX MONTHS, THERE WAS A SHOUT WENT
UP, OF JOY THAT WE HAD AT LAST GOT TO GOD'S COUNTRY AGAIN. Some of
them prayed, some swore and others cried-for we were now safe.
I was sent home on
crutches and have been a cripple ever since.
Fifty years after the
battle, I got a letter from the Comrade. (I thought he was dead all the time)
asking me to meet him at Chickamauga on September 20th. 1913.
We met, went to the
battlefield, found the place where we were both wounded fifty years
before. We placed ourselves on the ground in the same position and
place we were in, on that terrible morning of Septmeber
20, 1863.
The foregoing is an
account of our experience in battle, and duties of a private soldier, but the
half can never be told.
WE SIMPLY DID OUR DUTY
AS AMERICAN CITIZENS.
R. P. McCUTCHEON,
"Co. A, 42nd Reg." Indiana
Infantry.
*
* * * *
G.
A. R.
A DREAM
It was said of the old
soldier, that going down into the river of death, he came up on the other side,
and that all the hosts came out with banners and trumpets to meet him, and not
until we scarred vets receive our final welcome into the City Beautiful, will
we know the pathos of our years on the land.
Gone are our youth and
beauty; after four years in the army
Many of us come forth,
shot through and through, invalided, or broken forever. For sixty
years our life has been one long Gethsemane, one bleak via delores, when every day the Angels of success,
offered a cup of bitterness, over-flowing.
Now our long martyrdom
is nearly over; some of us say we are old and broken; but how can a soldier be
old, who has brought liberty, eternally young and beautiful, into being?
How can a veteran be
poor who has achieved eternal riches for all the people of the South?
How can an old soldier
be obscure when he is lifted up and made glorious in the presence of the
assembled millions, of his native land?
Already for a multitude,
the signal is hung out from the battlements of Heaven. Here shall
we fold our tents, and steal away after all the thunders of battle have died
away in distance. Life’s battles are fought, and we shall encamp in the
Promised Land and hang out our signal of everlasting victory.
Going in, we shall not
be unwanted, not unknown, for will not our comrades-in-arms stand expecting and
awaiting us? Will not the patriots and heroes and the martyrs who
bled at Marathon, and more who bled at Valley Forge, or struggled at Gettysburg
stand waiting to receive us?
We have a right to come
in, and to be greeted by Grant and Lee and all the heroes who died that the
Union might live; and be the great emancipator, the martyred President, and
when the last roll is called and the last page in this chapter of Liberty is
written, it shall be said.
"I saw an old soldier
come up out of the valley of the shadow of death, and all the heroes come forth
to meet him and greet him, and with banners and trumpets, they brought him
HOME."
GEORGE M. KIRKPATRICK
National Soldiers Home,
Virginia.
*
* * * *
Songs of Heaven
I do not think the
heaven to which we go
Will be so strange that
we shall feel afraid,
But, rather, that the
sweetest things we know
Will flourish undecayed.
I do not think the songs will all be new,
Or we should hunger for
the sweet old lays,
Whose echoes oft have
bid our souls be true,
Amid the loftier praise.
To think the choirs will
hush their anthem when
The fear for earth the
homesick pang;
And we shall sing to
listening angels, then
The songs our mothers
sang!
-Christian
Work-
*
* * * *
EDITORIAL NOTE
Mr. Kirkpatrick, years
ago, engaged his comrade, Reverend Joshia L. Albritton, who preached the funeral sermon of James A.
Garfield, to officiate at his funeral. Asked what text he wished
used, he specified the seventh verse of the fourth chapter of second Timothy.
"I have fought a
good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the
faith."
THE END