Chapter X: Canto X

1861-1865.
CIVIL WAR.

Eighteen hundred one and sixty,
Rolls its direful weight upon us;
Now the horoscope of nations,
Opens wide its omens to us.
In the mystic stars of fortune,
Of the western constellation,
Of the grand, united countries,
On the continent of freedom,
The astrologer now gazes
On a weird and crimson shadow.
Stars of fixed and cruel brightness,
Stars of fitful gleam and shining.
Stars of strange and faint illuming,
Reads the national magician;
Stripes of gory hue adorning,
All the mammoth constellation;
Stripes extending down the shadow
Of the shifting, warning picture.
What broad stream pursues its flowing,
Through the fateful, dark camera?
What bedews the starry emblem,
With the startling shade of crimson?
'Tis, alas! the fearful shadow,
Of contention and of vengeance;
'Tis the strife of human passion,
In the hapless land of freedom;
'Tis the clash of angry foemen,
Steel to steel in fierce encounter;
'Tis the symbol of a struggle,
In the brave, aspiring nation.
Not the tramp of foreign armies,
On the soil we bought with bloodshed,
Not the aid to captive strangers,
In the distant, unknown countries;
But the war at home and fireside,
The assault of friend and brother,
The array of kith and kindred,
In one grand, domestic quarrel.
And the soldiers went in legions,
Went in tens and tens of thousands,
Swarmed upon the fields of battle,
Crowded tent and camp and barrack.
And the city of Lancaster,
Ever foremost in her duty,
Gave her mite of men and warriors
To the ranks and to the hardships,
Gave her fighting men to suffer
In the civil war that deluged
All this mighty West Republic
In eighteen hundred one and sixty.

First we note the conquering armies,
With their brave, victorious leaders,
Who enlisted in the service,
From the county of old Garrard.
General Landram was promoted,
In the rising scale of glory,
From the easier gradations,
To the topmost roll of honor.
Born within the hillside city,
Architect of his own fortunes,
Native industry and talent
Led him up to high position.
Poet, pensman, and musician,
Writer, editor, and lawyer,
Social leader and controller
Of the city's hours of leisure,
He put by these modest duties,
To adorn the post of soldier;
He ascended as commander,
In the conquering Union armies.
His command--"Nineteenth Kentucky,"
Of the Infantry--the footmen,
Was the charge at first entrusted,
Numbered eighty men from Garrard
Of the officers and privates,
Company H. begins the roll-call.
Morgan Evans, first a Captain,
Was promoted soon to "Major,"
And was killed when bravely fighting,
Fell before the Vicksburg trenches,
Fell in May (the twenty-second)
Eighteen hundred three and sixty;
And his body lies distinguished,
By a shaft of pure white marble,
In the quiet cemetery
Of his native hillside city.
Here the "Blue" and "Grey" are resting,
'Neath "the laurel" and "the lily,"
"Love and tears" the one, adorning,
"Tears and love" the other, mourning.
Captain Alexander Logan,
Lives to chronicle his story.
First Lieutenant T. A. Elkin,
On the staff of Colonel Landram,
Drilled a band of Zouave urchins,
In the lance munition tactics,
Ere he joined the army proper,
Ready for its earnest duties.
By promotion he was Captain
Of the Cavalry--the horsemen,
And survived a soldier's perils,
Made a creditable record.
Stephen Hedger,[5] First Lieutenant,
Was advanced from rank of Second.
Now the Sergeants, nine in number,
Are the chief among subalterns;
Joseph Vaughn, and John H. Bussing,
James D. Price, and A. M. Bishop,
A. Kincead and Henry Innis,[6]
Wilson Duggins, John L. Connor,[6]
And Hugh Burns, the last recorded.
Then nine Corporals are written
On the fresh and modern record;
John C. Vaughn, and George S. Pollard,
Thomas Alverson, James Chumbley,
William Rigsby, and James Griffey,
Gideon Duncan, James H. Dismukes,[6]
Lastly, Alexander Duggins.
For the fifty-eight remaining
In the ranks, vide Appendix.
The great Mississippi Valley
Was their theatre of action.
At the city of New Orleans,
Eighteen hundred five and sixty,
Colonel Landram was commissioned,
Brigadier Commanding General.
When the armistice was sounded,
When the hero, Lee, surrendered,
And the companies disbanded,
At the trumpet proclamation,
Then the city on the hillside,
Summoned home her noble chieftains,
Once again to routine quiet.

Colonel Faulkner was a leader
In the conquering Union army,
Was the only son descended,
From his military father,
Who led forth his men to battle,
In the war of eighteen thirteen.
In the chronicle before us,
We read, "Colonel John K. Faulkner,"
Of command "Nineteenth Kentucky,"
Of the Cavalry--the horsemen.
First comes Captain Robert Collier;
Then is Captain Joseph Thornton,
First Lieutenant W. M. Kerby,
First Lieutenant E. H. Walker;
James L. Baird, and Thomas Dunn, are
Next in order as Lieutenants.
Sergeants six in number follow
In the company's statistics;
Curtis Pierce, and James M. Rothwell,
J. M. Carpenter, S. Rothwell,
John McQuery, P. H. Fletcher;
Then the Corporals, eight in number:
Robert Baugh, and James T. Dollens,
A. T. Conn, and James D. Adams,
J. H. Anderson, James Perkins,
G. W. Dollens, A. J. Hammock,
John F. Kennedy, the farrier,
And James Sims, the company's saddler.
See the Privates, forty-seven,
In Appendix of my ditty.

Of the first Kentucky Cavalry,
Company G had two commanders,
First, was Captain Thornton Hackley,
Then came Captain Irvine Burton.
William Carpenter, First Lieutenant,
Second Lieutenant, Henry Robson,
Second Lieutenant, Daniel Murphy,
Sergeants: James F. Spratt, T. Wherritt,
Eugene Miller, W. B. Saddler,
J. H. Kennedy, James Ross, and
A. M. Saddler, William Sherod.
Corporals: John L. Pond, R. Hukle,
Joseph Hicks, and Miles M. Chandler,
John E. Wright, and Hiram Roberts,
James O. Lynn, and Robert Rainey,
John T. Brooks, the ninth in number.
Fifty-seven private soldiers,
Filled the columns. (See Appendix.)
General Lovell H. Rousseau[7] was
Yet another gallant warrior,
Of whose glittering escutcheon,
All the city's pride is boastful;
Lawyer, politician, soldier,
He in Congress represented
Louisville and all the district,
And won military prowess,
In the nation's civil combats.

Colonel William Hoskins glories
In unsullied reputation,
Both as citizen and soldier,
Both as friend and as companion.
Served the Union in its struggle,
Served his county's legislature;
Is a genial, polished courtier,
Ever welcome at the fireside,
Ever welcome in all circles.
Whether lifting up his voice in
Measures for the public welfare,
Whether shouldering the bayonet,
For the bloody field of battle,
Whether drawing strains of music,
From the violin's sweet echoes,
Colonel Hoskins wins a greeting,
Claims a welcome in all circles.
Major M. H. Owsley, leader
In "the Cavalry" of Kentucky,
Was advanced from rank of Captain
In eighteen hundred one and sixty.
Since those times of manly trial,
He has step by step ascended,
From the youthful lawyer's office,
Up the grade of politicians,
To the bench of legal power.
A. G. Daniel, Junior, Captain
Of the Home Guard nightly patrol,
Served the Government thereafter,
In responsible positions.
W. A. Yantis ranked Lieutenant,
Led the military music
On the march of Wolford's cavalry.
R. L. Cochran was Lieutenant,
Also, R. Leslie McMurtry,
Officers from brave Lancaster,
In the army of the Union.
Other men perchance from Garrard,
From the inland hillside city,
Took up arms to save the Union,
Fought the desperate seceders.
Far and near the slogan sounded,
Long and loud the fatal summons,
Till around each fireside lonely,
Soon a "vacant chair" was standing;
Till the only free retainers
Were the women and the children;
Till the crippled and the aged
Were the guardians of the homesteads.
* * * * *
How the shadows of the picture
Darken o'er the southern landscape!
How the "Lost Cause" sheds a gloaming
On the erst illumed horizon!
All about the stricken region
Hangs the doom of vanquished power;
All throughout the conquered country
Sounds the knell of fruitless bloodshed.
Mothers mourn their slaughtered first-born,
Wives lament their martyred husbands,
Sisters guard the worn grey jackets,
Maidens prize the blood-stained tresses.
Farmers, planters, cultivators--
All the men of thrift and profit,
Grieve above the desolation,
Deep bewail the fruits so bitter.
Furrows in the soil may ripen,
With a renovated harvest;
Furrows in the heart are open,
With a ceaseless, arid planting.
Wind and rain and shower and sunshine,
Soon give back the laborer's treasure;
None of nature's sweet restorers,
Bring alas! the mourner's idols.
From the North were foreign legions,
Swarming on to bayonet charges;
From the South the fostered nurselings
Of the native born American.
Every drop of blood a rending
Of the ties of pure affection;
Every pillowed head a token
Of "Somebody's Darling," stricken;
Every "Picket Guard" on duty,
Joined in dreams an absent "Mary,"
Every hospital and barrack,
Held the hope of some fond household.

Captain Matthew David Logan,
Major and Lieutenant-colonel,
Long a citizen of Garrard,
Long a practicing physician,
Led a band of Southern-Rights-men
To the troubled land of Dixie;
Bore the "Bonnie Blue Flag" above him,
Held the Stars and Bars unfurling.
Forest, Breckinridge, and Morgan,
Gallant gentlemen and soldiers,
Were his comrades in the struggle,
Were his mighty fellow-suff'rers.
His career through countless hardships,
His successes and his losses,
His adventures without number,
Culminating in the northern prisons,
At Fort Delaware, Columbus,
Morris Island, Fort Pulaski,--
All these woes and hopes defeated,
Left their gloomy impress on him,
Added years of bitter pining.
May the dove of peace brood over
Every blighting grief and trial,
May all past despair and anguish
Hold abeyance till the Judgment.
The Confederates were rallied,
Oft in haste and stealth and darkness.
All the archives of their columns
Are obscure, or lost forever.
See Appendix, for the gathering
Of the names that float about us,
Whether officers or privates;
Let the blanks be duly pardoned.
H. D. Brown,[6] was First Lieutenant
Of command of Captain Logan;
J. T. McQuery was Lieutenant;
James McMurray was a Sergeant,
And the Sergeant, Joseph Arnold,
Was promoted while in service.
Sergeant D. A. King is numbered
With the officers belonging
To the gallant Third Kentucky,
Of the Cavalry--the horsemen.
Other names are linked together
In my song's replete Appendix.

Captain Michael Salter mustered
Company E--the Third Kentucky,
With Lieutenant L. B. Hudson,
Fellow-officer and leader;
Samuel Curd, the Orderly Sergeant.
Captain Salter's fearless spirit,
His bold exploits and his daring,
Led him into bonds and capture,
Till he languished long in prison,
At the Johnson's Island stronghold.

James and William Jennings, brothers,
Natives of remote Lancaster,
Skillful surgeons by profession,
Cast their fortunes in the balance,
In the trembling Southern balance.
One survived the toil and peril,
One was sacrificed to rapine.
On the scattered army records
Of the "Dixie Boys" of Garrard,
Captain H. Clay Myers is written,
And Captain Jack W. Adams:
Also S. F. McKee, another
Scion of a race of soldiers,
Claims a place within my canto,
In the "grey" and "faded" columns.
Major Baxter Smith was foremost,
In events of risk and danger,
Was a son of brave Lancaster,
Served the South in many battles.
Morgan's men were soon recruited,
By Confederates[8] from Garrard;
History furnishes already,
Stormy raids and dashing charges,
Led within the fruitful borders
Of Kentucky's fair dominion.
Thrilling incidents unnumbered,
Mark the story of the struggle,
Mark the hideous distortion
Of the nation's sunny temper,
Tell the sad and fatal meaning
Of this Cain and Abel quarrel,
When the slain in myriad numbers,
Filled the "furrows" in "God's Acre."
When the "seed" of Death's "rude plowshare"
Yielded bounteous "human harvests."
Each forgot the sacred lesson,
Thou art still thy brother's keeper;
Each essayed in vain to smother
In the ground the cries of bloodshed.
Family feuds are wounds that fester,
Home dissensions breed sore anguish,
Yet the love that binds the members,
Spreads the mantle of forgiveness;
And from every wound that severs
Parent stems and sturdy branches,
Springs a shoot of vital growing,
Flows a blessed balm of healing.
Thus may North and South uniting,
Soothe the pangs of heartstrings broken,
Leave the fierce and naming fires,
In the crucible to smoulder.
Let the ashes crumble, crumble,
To the dust of buried vengeance.
Let no moon wax o'er Lancaster,
But may shed her beams in gladness;
Let no moon wane o'er the city,
But illumes with love and pardon.

[5]Stephen Hedger, while Postmaster at Lancaster in 1874, was shot and
killed by Ebenezer Best.

[6]Dead.

[7]Deceased.

[8]See Appendix.