A Union man by the name of Glover, residing in one of the counties west of Quincy, Illinois, owning a number of valuable horses, and having fear of their appropriation to rebel uses, concluded to place them in the hands of a company of Home Guards in the neighborhood for safe keeping. A day or two afterwards, while Glover was absent from home, a rebel called at his house to inquire for him. His wife was in the garden adjoining a cornfield, some distance from the house, when the rebel approached her, and made several inquiries, to which she gave no very satisfactory answers. He then insisted on being informed were Glover was, and, with revolver in hand, threatened instant death if not told. He also demanded of her to deliver up a valuable gun owned by Glover. The two started for the house through the cornfield, and on the way, Mrs Glover succeeded, without being observed, in getting possession of a large corn knife that had been left in the field, and watching the opportunity, took a favorable moment for striking a blow, which she did most effectually, the knife severing the skull, and killing the rebel instantly. Mrs. Glover had a small child with her in the garden, which she left when starting for the house, intending to return for it immediately. Having despatched the rebel, she returned to the garden, when she discovered several other rebels in ambush, a short distance from her. She took her child, and being yet unperceived by them, sought a place of concealment until they should retire. They soon emerged from their hiding-place, and searching for their companion, they found his lifeless body where he had been stricken down, and bore it off, greatly to the relief of Mrs. Glover.
Monthly Archives: February 2010
One of the Pike County boys at Louisiana (Missouri) found an old negro in the woods who had heard that secession property was to be confiscated, and therefore commenced by executing the order upon himself. He surrendered to the invader, and gave a history of himself, concluding by saying. “Gorry, massa! I’ll brack your boots, brush your close, bring your water–do anything you want me, if you’ll only confiscate de ole ‘oman!”
Just before the advance of the national army towards Richmond, General Sherman’s brigade, consisting of the Thirteenth, Sixty-ninth, and Seventy-ninth New York, and the Second Wisconsin regiments, was encamped near Ball’s Cross-Roads, not far from a church known as Ball’s Church. In the church-yard is the grave of a little child belonging to a Union family by the name of Osborne. The grave is surrounded by a picket fence, upon which there was no inscription. This being observed by Captain Haggerty, of the Sixty-ninth, he went to the trouble of placing upon it a board bearing the age and name of the little one. In a few days the brigade marched for the fatal field of Bull Run, where the gallant Haggerty met a soldier’s fate, while acting as Lieutenant-Colonel of his regiment. After the return of the troops to the Potomac, Ball’s Cross-Roads and the Church were used as outposts, and quite a number of soldiers who were from time to time stationed in the neighborhood, placed additional inscriptions upon the fence commemorative of the departed officer. One of these read as follows:
“Bull Run was where Haggerty was killed. Will they do as much for him as he did for this poor child?”
The incident was related by private B. F. Morgan, of company A, Thirteenth regiment. Mr. M. visited the spot afterwards, in company with the mother of the child, as her escort. She was greatly affected on seeing what had been done.
The best piece of satire upon the leniency observed by the authorities, in the early part of the war, in reference to rebels found committing depredations, is contained in te following story: Some of the soldiers belonging to General Cox’s army, stationed in Kanawha, Virginia, caught a large rattlesnake, which manifested a most mischievous disposition, snapping and thrusting out its forked tongue at all who came near it. The boys at last got tired of the reptile, and as nobody wanted such a dangerous companion, the question arose, “What shall we do with him?” This question was propounded several times without an answer, when a half-drunken soldier, who was lying near, upon his back, rolled upon his side, and relieved his companions by quietly remarking: “D—n it! swear him, and let him go!”