other representative men of that country. It was a great day for
Boston.
Of all the places I visited, I think I had the best time at Ports-
mouth, New Hampshire, the home of my Uncle Israel. I went
there alone, by stage from Wells. My oldest three cousins were
about my age, "Sadie" being two years and George three months
older and "Caddie" two years younger than I. We children
played in the attic, which was the size of the whole house, and
what good times we had there. We were allowed to make just
as much noise as we pleased and I will not deny that we made
an awful racket. I have often wondered since how the grown
people stood it.
Our favorite game was to play cars by putting boards on
lengths of stovepipe and running them across the floor. The place
was full of discarded clothes and furniture, which we used in our
plays. Caddie would let us dress her as we chose and I remem-
ber that one day we dressed her as a negro, blacking her face,
neck and hands with some sort of blacking that Aunt Clara had
great difficulty in washing off. The happiness I enjoyed there
made me decide that if my father and mother died I was going
there to live with Uncle Israel and be his boy. I have made
many visits to this uncle's house since 185 1 and always found a
warm welcome and had an enjoyable time. The family is now
scattered ; the father and mother and two of the youngei children
have been called hence, but the three who were my playmates in
185 1 are still here.
Trip East in 1861.
My next visit to the East was in 1861. At that time I mace
the whole journey by rail, but do not remember how long it took.
Sleeping cars had just been introduced, but had no resemblance
to modern sleepers. They were ordinary day coaches fitted with
three bunks, one above the other, with no conveniences. The
charge for occupying the lower berth was $1.25; for the middle
one, which was narrower, 75 cents, and for the upper one, which
was still narrower, 50 cents. There was as much difference in all
•■•-
42 RECOLLECTIONS FROM
other equipment of railroad and cars, compared with the present
equipment, as between the sleepers of that day and of this. The
air brake, the Miller coupler, the continuous rails and easy riding
coaches were unknown. The cars were of very light weight and
were extremely uncomfortable. They were loosely coupled to-
gether, so that starting or stopping was accompanied with a bump
or a jerk, nearly throwing one out of his seat. There were no
air-brakes, brakemen stopping the train with hand brakes. The
roadbed was not properly ballasted and the cars were so light
that while in motion they rocked and swayed at a great rate. The
rails were short and very light in comparison with modern rails
and were not fastened together, so that when the car wheels
passed over each joint there was a jar and a bump. The fastest
train did not dare to exceed thirty miles an hour and this was
considered a very high rate of speed. Ordinary trains made
about twenty. The roads were short connected links, and did not
carry through cars. All passengers had to change at each inter-
section, and this was also true of the freight cars, no cars going
over any other road.
I will write of only a few of the incidents of this trip. The
first battle of Bull Run was fought while I was at the home of
my Uncle Israel, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in 1861. The
history of that time recites the intense excitement which that
battle caused.
When I made my second trip my father's parents were both
dead. Grandfather Kimball died October 28th, 1852, and Grand-
mother, October 15th, 1859. The winter of 1855-56 she spent
at Fort Wayne visiting her three son?, but making father's home
her headquarters. The journey from Boston in those days was
a long and difficult one for a lady nearly seventy-four years old,
but she was very smart and active.
Mother's parents were both living when I made this trip, but
had removed to the large house in Wells, built by my great-grand-
father, David Hatch, who died April 22d, 1845. It was m fi ne
condition when, with my son Harry, I visited it July 7th, 1910.
Grandfather and Grandmother Hatch had the measles at the
same time. He died from it April 27th, 1862, but she recovered
and died of pneumonia February 28th, 1871.
Cousin Edward A. Hatch was at Grandfather Hatch's with me
and we had a happy time together. I also visited Uncle Stephen
Kimball in another part of the town of Wells. He owned and
A BUSY LIFE 43
lived on the farm formerly owned by his father, Wilbraham Kim-
ball. It was on this farm, in a house just back of their house,
that my father and his nine brothers were born. This farm has
been sold out of the Kimball family, all of the buildings torn
down, and the place has become so overgrown with bushes and
trees that I failed to find the spot where the house had been when
I searched for it on July 7th, 1910. In recalling the events of that
never-to-be-forgotten trip, it makes me sad to remember that of
all the members of the various families which I visited, but three
of the adults are now living — mother's sister, Aunt Rebecca
Wells ; Aunt Sarah Hatch, the widow of mother's brother, George
W. Hatch, and mother's sister, Aunt Sarah Peirce. Quite a num-
ber of the children are living, but many have gone to the beyond.
44 RECOLLECTIONS FROM
CHAPTER V.
The Campaign of i860.
My father was always very much interested in politics and was
well informed and ready to give a good reason for his beliefs.
He was opposed to slavery and to any attempt to perpetuate it.
We lived on the direct line of the underground railroad and I
have frequently seen runaway slaves being carried by our house
on their way to Canada. Father was greatly excited over the
John Brown raid and the Free Soil Campaign, and I was brought
up in that sort of an atmosphere.
My first very clear recollection of a Presidential campaign was
that of John C. Fremont and James Buchanan in 1856. It was
very exciting, but not so much so as that of i860, in which Lin-
coln was elected. Fort Wayne had a large foreign population
and was strongly Democratic. The best Republican speakers were
sent to it and I heard most of them — John Sherman, Caleb Smith
(afterwards Lincoln's Secretary of the Interior), Carl Schurz
(who had just been driven out of Germany), Oliver P. Morton,
and many others. I also heard Stephen A. Douglas, one of the
Democratic candidates. What with the speaking, processions, the
Wide-awake torchlight processions, things were exceedingly
lively. I marched, hurrahed, and did all that a seventeen vear
eld boy could to secure Lincoln's election.
After Lincoln's inauguration and the commencement of the War
of the Rebellion, the Southern sympathizers in Fort Wayne be-
came very active. Not only did they do everything in their power
to keep men out of the army, but they organized three companies
of Knights of the Golden Circle, an organization armed, equipped
and sworn to fight for the South. Governor Morton and General
Carrington had spies in their companies who kept them informed
of their doings, and a counter organization was created through-
out the State, called the Union Club. We had two of these clubs
in Fort Wayne, fully armed, drilled and ready to fight when or-
dered. I was secretary of one of these clubs, having joined Janu-
ary 23d, 1863. Things were redhot and I wonder now that we
A BUSY LIFE 45
did not have an actual war in the city. Our guns were furnished
by General Carrington. This was the earliest secret Union organ-
ization formed in this country. The following incident, which
occurred on May 2d, 1863. shows the temper and disposition of
the Knights of the Golden Circle in Fort Wayne.
The Union men had a grand rally with some noted speakers
and a great crowd present. When the speaking was over and a
large number had left the grounds, the Southern sympathizers
organized a mob with clubs and any other weapon they could get
and assaulted every Union man whom they found on the streets,
a great many being badly injured. They then went to the railroad
station to assault some of the speakers from out of town, but
missed them. They then tried to stop the excursion train, shot
the conductor and badly injured the fireman because the conductor
refused to stop. I had gone home when the riot commenced and
saw none of it. While the election of 1864, Lincoln's second elec-
tion, was very exciting, I do not think it could compare in stren-
uosity with the election of i860.
The First Regiment Recruited in Fort Wayne.
How quickly the war was on after Lincoln's inauguration !
The attack on Sumter, the calling for seventy-five thousand vol-
unteers, and instantly the whole nation was a camp. The first
regiment raised in Fort Wayne was a one year regiment, the 12th
Indiana, commanded by Colonel Bass, an officer of the Mexican
War. At the end of its first enlistment it was re-enlisted for
three years, and in its first battle after re-enlistment, at Richmond,
Kentucky, its colonel was killed. Regiment after regiment was
organized at Fort Wayne until the close of the war. I will speak
of my own enlistment as a private in Co. E, 55th Ind. Vol. Tnfty.,
in its proper place.
My Employment as a Teacher in the Public Schools of
Fort Wayne.
After my return from my trip East in 1861 I re-entered the high
school, taking up advanced studies with Rev. George A. Irvin,
the Superintendent of Public Schools, and afterwards with Rev.
Robert Lowry, D. D., pastor of the First Presbyterian Church.
46 RECOLLECTIONS FROM
Shortly after the reopening of the schools, at my recitation one
day Mr. Irvin said he had heard such good reports of my country
schools that he would like to have me teach in the city schools
and asked me whether I thought I could manage the intermediate
school in the Clay Building. The school had gotten the upper
hand of their teacher and she could do nothing with them. I
told him that I thought I could. He said he did not want me to
try and fail, for if I did it would affect my whole future as a
teacher. I told him I was ready to take it. He said he would
think it over and let me know later what he concluded to do,
and then he asked me to go to the room and send the teacher
to him and remain there until she got back. Some of the boys
attempted to misbehave after she left, but I told them that I
was to be there but a few minutes and they must not dare to
misbehave while I was there, and my looks and attitude were such
that they concluded not to try me.
They had been in the habit of throwing books, shoes and other
missiles at each other during the school session, and in fact did
not stop at any disorder. Under such conditions study and les-
sons were out of the question. The teacher was thoroughly cowed
and afraid to do anything with them. I was ordered to take the
school commencing with Monday, January 27th, 1862 (I then
lacked some months of being nineteen years old). Mr. Irvin gave
me full authority to do what I thought proper to re-establish dis-
cipline.
In those days teachers were allowed to punish under the super-
vision of the Superintendent. The school had about sixty boys
and girls, discipline entirely destroyed, and they were ready for
anything. I knew that there was but one thing to do : I must be
master. They started their pranks as soon as the school was
opened and I started my discipline. I used a rattan and thrashed
twenty or thirty the first day and laid it on so that they felt it
good and strong and did not want any more of it. It took me
about two weeks to get the school into perfect order and after
that I had the best behaved school in the city. Mr. Irvin kept
his hands off, but he knew what I did and was greatly pleased
with the way I mastered the trouble. For two weeks I paid little
attention to lessons, for under the circumstances lessons were sec-
ondary. After discipline was established no one would want a
brighter, more studious lot of boys and girls than I had.
Some time in the same year Mr. Irvin transferred me to the
A BUSY LIFE 47
grammar school in the same building, a school for older boys and
girls. The same conditions existed in that school ; they had com-
pletely mastered their teacher. I did not have the slightest trouble
in bringing my new school under control, for they knew how I
had secured discipline in the other school and did not want me
to repeat it with them. Of course, disorder would break out oc-
casionally, but it gave me no serious trouble, and I continued as
its teacher until the close of the next school year, June, 1863, when
I refused reappointment and secured a clerkship in the Internal
Revenue Bureau of the Treasury Department in Washington.
Between the two school years I served three months in the army,
of which service I will now write.
48 RECOLLECTIONS FROM
CHAPTER VI.
My Army Service.
The war was becoming more and more serious and the belief
that it would end in ninety clays had proved fallacious. The
usual term of enlistment was for ninety days, six or nine months
or a year, but up to June, 1862, few had enlisted for longer
periods. In May and early in June of 1862, Captain Charles
Emery, of Fort Wayne, began to raise a company for three
months service. Many of my friends had already enlisted in va-
rious regiments. When this company was raided I got the war
fever, as did my friend, Lovetus Algernon, or as we familiarly
called him, "Non" Ferris, the brother of Anna L. Ferris. One
of us said to the other (I do not know which made the proposi-
tion), "If you enlist, I will," and the other replied, "If you enlist,
I will," and we both joined Captain Emery's company, which be-
came Co. E, 55th Ind. Infty.
The company was enrolled June 9th, 1862, and elected Charles
Emery, captain, Brutus A. Bourie, first lieutenant and Wil-
liam L. Thompson, second lieutenant. Captain Emery, who had
known me ever since he came to Fort Wayne from Kennebunk,
Maine, offered to make me a non-commissioned officer, but I
refused, telling him I wanted to serve as a private. Captain
Emery re-enlisted after this service and was finally discharged
after the close of the war as lieutenant colonel. He died in Wash-
ington, where his half brother, Senator Perkins of California, had
given him a position in the United States Senate. I do not know
Bourie's after service, but he died at Fort Wayne. Second Lieu-
tenant Thompson was killed at the battle of Richmond, Kentucky,
the only battle in which our regiment was engaged. Our com-
pany lost ten or twelve men killed and wounded in that battle. I
do not know how many died from disease. When I left the City
Hospital at Frankfort, Kentucky, on furlough, Charles Griswold,
one of my company, was there, very sick with typhoid fever,
from which he afterward died. One of my companions, named
Gill, was severely wounded in a singular way and much fun was
made of him on account of the position of his wound. On the
60H.
^U
A BUSY LIFE 49
Union side the battle was fought with raw troops. The 12th and
55th Indiana, with one Kentucky regiment, were the only regi-
ments which had been drilled. All the other regiments had just
been recruited and had had their guns but a few days. The 12th
Indiana was a one year regiment, which had just re-enlisted for
three years. The rebels were old troops. Our army did all right
until they had to manoeuvre, then they broke and the rebels had
it all their own way. Captain Emery ordered his company to
retreat, each one for himself, firing as they ran. When loaded,
they would get behind any protection they could find and fire at
the advancing enemy. The comrade referred to lay on his stom-
ach behind a log to fire, and naturally his feet stuck up with the
heels to the front. As he thus lay a bullet struck him in the heel
and went the length of his foot, making a very severe wound.
That stopped his retreat and he was captured, but paroled. His
comrades made all manner of fun of him for getting wounded in
the heel.
Lieutenant Thompson was hit three times during the retreat,
the last time through the heart. Captain Emery and many of the
members of our company were taken prisoners. After taking
from them everything of value, especially their boots, shoes and
other clothing, they were paroled. In place of the clothing thus
taken the rebels gave them their wornout clothing. When Cap-
tain Emery reached Indianapolis, where the regiment reassembled
after the battle, he had on one old boot and one old shoe, and his
other clothing was a sight. The retreat became a rout and it
is said that some of our company brought up at Cincinnati and
others at Louisville. Our time had expired, and we gathered at
Indianapolis to be mustered out and paid off. I rejoined my
company at Indianapolis, as is explained hereafter.
To return to my own service. After our company was organ-
ized we went to Camp Morton, Indianapolis, and with companies
recruited in different parts of the State, formed the 55th Ind.
Infty. At Indianapolis we, with the 56th Indiana, guarded the
six thousand prisoners taken at Fort Donaldson. The first night
our company was in camp the boys were having a high time when
taps w T ere sounded. This was, of course, the signal for all lights
to be put out and the soldiers to go to bed, but they knew nothing
about taps or the rules of army life and continued their good time.
Presently the officer of the day, with a file of soldiers, came into
our encampment and called out, "Fall in ! Fall in !" So the boys
[4]
50 RECOLLECTIONS FROM
all fell in and were marched off to the guard house. When Cap-
tain Emery found it out he went to the officer commanding Camp
Morton and got the boys out on account of their "greenness."
Our service at Camp Morton was quite severe, for the guard
was a small one and the prisoners were very insecurely guarded,
the prison being only an open space enclosed by a high board
fence. The sentinels were stationed on the outside of this fence
with one soldier on the inside at each of the two main gates and a
few more at different posts on the inside of the inclosure. A
squad was constantly patrolling the interior of the grounds. The
prisoners slept in large barracks scattered throughout the camp,
but were not locked up and were perfectly free to go wherever
they pleased within the grounds day or night. The patrol was to
keep them from congregating and breaking out. I have wondered
many times since why they did not escape, as they could easily
have done, as the guard was far from strong. They must have
been deterred by the fact that while the bulk of them could escape
many would be killed in the attempt.
I cannot now remember how often I was on guard duty, but
with so small a guard the duty came very frequently, and each
turn was more than twenty-four hours. The trick of duty was
two hours on and four hours off. The distance around the ground
was more than a mile and the sentinels were posted very near
together so that no prisoner could climb the fence and escape
between the sentinels. We were not allowed to stop our march
for a moment. The beats were of the same length and we
marched from one end to the other, all facing the same way and
all turning at the same moment. Our guns were heavy Enfield
rifles with very large bayonets. The cartridge contained a ball
and two buckshot. I have some of the cartridges in my cabinet.
We had no tents to protect us when on guard, and when it
rained when we were off duty we would lie down in as dry a spot
as we could find, with our woolen blanket and our rubber poncho
as our only protection. I remember one night when I was awak-
ened by a torrent of rain pouring into my face and a small river
of water running under me, as I had unfortunately chosen a
hollow for my bed. I removed my sleeping place very suddenly.
The prisoners had great fun with the sentinels. One trick was
to throw pieces of wood or bones over the fence at them or pre-
tend to climb the fence so as to make the sentinels fire off their
guns and cause excitement among them and bring the officer of
A BUSY LIFE 5*
the guard to the post. I have known this to he done to others
many times when I was on guard, but fortunately never had it
happen to me, and I have often heard the sentinels fire under such
circumstances. The sentinel on the beat next to me was knocked
over by a beef bone thrown at him. One very dark night I was
one of a squad of about twenty-five, under command of a lieuten-
ant, patrolling inside the camp. We were armed with loaded
Enfield rifles with fixed bayonets, and each had, in addition, a
large army six-shooter, as we were liable to be attacked at any
moment. We would start from one of the main gates, make the
circuit of the whole camp and return to our starting point, and
after a short rest make the round again. The camp had been a
forest and many of the trees were still standing, making it very
dark, and it was full of logs and stumps. We tried to keep to
the roads and paths, but the prisoners put obstructions of all kinds
in our way over which we were constantly tripping, and, armed
as we were, this was not only dangerous to ourselves but to others
of our party. One of their favorite tricks was to stretch clothes
lines across our path just high enough to catch us under the chin.
Whenever we fell or stumbled we could hear all around us from
between logs and stumps the giggles of the prisoners.
One incident might have ended in a tragedy had it not been
discovered. On starting on one of our rounds I noticed the posi-
tion of the sentinel on the inside of the main gate. On our return
I noticed that he occupied the same position. The roadway
through the gate had been dug down so that there was a bank
on either side. This sentinel was sitting (this was a violation of
his orders) on the bank, his feet in the roadway, his gun lying
across his knees, his head resting on his hands and his elbows rest-
ing on his knees. I saw that he was asleep and called the attention
of the lieutenant to him. He crept up to him and took hold of his
gun, then woke him. It was an exceedingly dangerous thing for
him to do, for, had the sentinel awakened, he would, without
doubt, have shot him. The offense was one punishable with death.
The sentinel was sent to the guardhouse under arrest and another
left in his place. In a few days we were suddenly ordered to go
to the front on account of Gen. John Morgan's raid toward Cin-
cinnati and I never knew what was done with him.
During all the time we were at Camp Morton we were being
constantly drilled, both in the manual of arms and in manoeuvers.
Finally on July nth, 1862, came the order for which we were
52 RECOLLECTIONS FROM
anxiously awaiting, to leave for Louisville and the front. It came
just at night and the boys went wild over it. Among other things
they did was to climb the large black walnut trees among which
cur tents were pitched and put lighted candles in their tops, each
company trying to put their candles higher than any other. The
regiment left for Jeffersonville the next morning, July 12th.
There they crossed the Ohio to Louisville. The leaving was so
hurried that it was impossible for the quartermaster to get ready
to go with the regiment. I had been detailed on July 8th or 9th
to duty with the quartermaster. He and his force left Indianapo-
lis the same night at ten o'clock and reached Louisville Sunday
morning, July 13th. The work we had to do was very pressing
and laborious, the weather was exceedingly hot, and we had noth-
ing to eat from Saturday morning until Sunday night, when the
quartermaster gave us our supper at a hotel. During that time
I drank water very freely. That night we spent in the depot at
Louisville and in the night I was taken with bloody dysentery.
The next morning we followed the regiment to Frankfort, where
they had gone into camp in the meadow bordering on the Ken-
tucky river. I lay in the depot at Frankfort all day, getting
worse every moment. The regiment expected to be ordered away
at once and there was no army hospital there. It was finally de-
termined to arrange with some Union family to take me in their
house and care for me. Our orderly sergeant arranged this with
a family named Henderson, living near the railroad depot. The
son of the family gave up his room to make a place for me. The
room was a small bedroom directly over the hall door and my bed
was beside the window, so that I could hear and see everything
that went on in the street. Governor Magoffin, the rebel governor
of Kentucky, lived just above our house and passed on the other