Uncle Daniel's Story Of Tom Anderson, and Twenty Great Battles

  Produced by David Widger

  UNCLE DANIEL'S STORY

  OF "TOM" ANDERSON

  And

  Twenty Great Battles.

  By John McElroy

  1886.

  "UNCLE DANIEL" IS PRESENTED TO THE PUBLIC. A TRUTHFUL PICTURE, IN STORY, BASED UPON EVENTS OF THE LATE WAR. THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED TO THE UNION SOLDIERS AND THEIR CHILDREN.

  The Author

  New York, Jan. 1st, 1886.

  UNCLE DANIEL'S STORY.

  CHAPTER I.

  DARK DAYS OF 1861.--A FATHER WHO GAVE HIS CHILDREN TO THE COUNTRY.--RALLYING TO THE FLAG.--RAISING VOLUNTEERS IN SOUTHERN INDIANA.

  "The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect and rely upon myself."--Charlotte Bronte

  ALLENTOWN is a beautiful little city of 10,000 inhabitants, situated onthe Wabash River, in Vigo County, Ind., in the vicinity of which severalrailroads now center. It is noted for its elevated position, generalhealthfulness, and for its beautiful residences and cultivated society.Daniel Lyon located here in 1850. He was a man of marked abilityand undoubted integrity; was six feet two inches in height, wellproportioned, and of very commanding and martial appearance. In 1861,he was surrounded by a large family, seven grown sons--James, David,Jackson, Peter, Stephen, Henry and Harvey--all of whom were welleducated, fond of field sports and inclined to a military life. Themother, "Aunt Sarah," as she was commonly called by the neighbors, wasa charming, motherly, Christian woman, whose heart and soul seemed to bewrapped up in the welfare of her family. She was of short, thick build,but rather handsome, with dark brown hair and large blue eyes, gentleand kind. Her politeness and generosity were proverbial. She thoughteach of her seven sons a model man; her loving remarks about them werenoticeable by all.

  Daniel Lyon is at present 85 years old, and lives with one of hisgranddaughters--Jennie Lyon--now married to a man by the name of JamesWilson, in Oakland, Ind., a small town conspicuous only for its rareeducational facilities.

  Uncle Daniel telling his Story 017]

  On the evening of the 22d of February, 1884, a number of the neighbors,among whom was Col. Daniel Bush, a gallant and fearless officer ofthe Union side during the late war, and Dr. Adams, President of ------College, dropped in to see Uncle Daniel, as he is now familiarly called.During the evening, Col. Bush, turning to the old veteran, said:

  "'Uncle Daniel,' give us a story from some of your experiences duringthe war."

  The old man arose from his easy-chair and stood erect, his hair, aswhite as snow, falling in profusion over his shoulders. His eyes, thoughdimmed by age, blazed forth in youthful brightness; his frame shook withexcitement, his lips quivered, and tears rolled down the furrows of hissunken cheeks. All were silent. He waved his hand to the friends to beseated; then, drawing his big chair to the centre of the group, he satdown. After a few moments' pause he spoke, in a voice tremulous withemotion:

  "My experience was vast. I was through the whole of the war. I saw much.My story is a true one, but very sad. As you see, my home is a desolatewaste. My family consists now of only two grand-children; wife and sonsare all gone. I am all that is now left of my once happy family. My God!My God! Why should I have been required to bear this great burden? Butpardon this weakness in an old man. I will now begin my story.

  "In the month of ------, 1861, my nephew, 'Tom' Anderson,--I called theboy Tom, as I learned to do so many years before, while visiting at hisfather's; he was the son of my eldest sister,--his wife, Mary, and theironly child, a beautiful little girl of two years (called Mary, for hermother), were visiting at my house. Their home was in Jackson, Miss. Oneevening my good wife, Tom, his wife, my son Peter, and I were sitting onour front porch discussing the situation, when we heard a great noise acouple of blocks south of us. The young men stepped out to see what thetrouble was and in a very short time they returned greatly excited. Acompany of men were marching down the street bearing the American flag,when a number of rebel sympathizers had assaulted them with stones,clubs, etc., and had taken their flag and torn it to shreds. It seemedthat a Mr. 'Dan' Bowen, a prominent man in that part of the State, hadbeen haranguing the people on the question of the war, and had denouncedit as 'an infamous Abolition crusade,' and the President as avillainous tyrant,' and those who were standing by the Union as'Lincoln's hirelings, and dogs with collars around their necks.' Thislanguage stirred up the blood of the worst element of the people,who sympathised with secession, and had it not been for the timelyinterposition of many good and worthy citizens, blood would have beenshed upon the streets."

  Here Col. Bush asked:

  "What became of this man Bowen?"

  "I understand that he now occupies one of the highest positions thepeople of Indiana can give to one of her citizens. You see, my friends,that we American people are going so fast that we pass by everything andforget almost in a day the wrongs to our citizens and our country."

  "But to return to what I was saying in connection with the young men.Tom Anderson was in a state of great excitement. He said he had almostbeen mobbed before leaving home for entertaining Union sentiments, andfeared that he could not safely return with his family. My son Petersuggested that, perhaps, they (being young) owed a duty to their countryand could not perform it in a more satisfactory manner than to enter theservice and do battle for the old flag. To this suggestion no reply wasmade at the time. I said to them:

  "'This seems to me a very strange condition of things, to see aGovernment like this threatened in its permanency by the very peoplethat have controlled and profited most by it.' Tom replied:

  "'Uncle, I have given a great deal of thought to this subject. You knowI was born in Ohio. My father was an Episcopal minister, and settled inMississippi while I was but a boy. My father and mother are both buriedthere, leaving me an only child. I grew up and there married my goodwife, Mary Whitthorne. We have lived happily together. I have had a goodpractice at the law; have tried to reconcile myself to their theories ofhuman rights and 'rope-of-sand' government, but cannot. They are very_different_ from our Northern people--have _different_ theories ofgovernment and morals, with _different_ habits of thought and action.The Pilgrim Fathers of the North who landed at Plymouth Rock were men ofindependence of thought; believed in Christianity, in education anduniversal liberty. They and their progeny have moved almost on a linedue west, to the Pacific Ocean, infusing their energy, their ideas ofgovernment, of civil liberty, of an advanced Christian civilization,with a belief in man's equality before the law. These ideas and thoughtshave become imbedded in the minds of the Northern people so firmly thatthey will fight to maintain them; will make them temporarily a success,and would make them permanent but for their habit of moving so rapidlyin the direction of business and the accumulation of wealth, whichprepares the mind to surrender everything to the accomplishment of thissingle object. The Southern inhabitants are almost entirely descendedfrom impetuous, hot-blooded people. Their ancestors that landed atJamestown, and later along the Southern Atlantic coast within ourborders, were of an adventurous and warlike people. Their descendantshave driven westward almost on a parallel line with the Northern peopleto the borders of Mexico, occasionally lapping over the Northern line.Their thoughts, ideas, manners and customs have been impressed upon thepeople wherever they have gone, by the pretense, always foremost anduppermost, as if a verity, that they were the most hospitable andchivalric of any people in America. Their civilization was different.Their arguments were enforced by the pistol and bowie-knife upon theirequals, and slaves su
bjected to their will by the lash andbloodhound--the death of a man, white or black, being considered no morethan merely a reduction of one in the enumeration of population. Theyhave opposed common schools for fear the poorer classes of whites mighthave an opportunity of contesting at some time the honors of office,that being the great ambition of Southern society. They would not allowthe slave to be educated for fear he might learn that he was a man,having rights above the brute with which he has always been held on apar. The aristocracy only were educated. And this was generally done inthe North, where the facilities were good; and by sending them from homeit kept down the envy and ambition of the poorer classes, where, if theycould have seen the opportunity of acquiring knowledge it might havestimulated them to greater exertion for the purpose of storing theirminds with something useful in extricating themselves from an obedienceto the mere will of the dominating class. Those people, one and all, nomatter how ignorant, are taught to consider themselves better than anyother people save the English, whose sentiments they inculcate. They arenot in sympathy with a purely Republican system of Government. Theybelieve in a controlling class, and they propose to be that class. Ihave heard them utter these sentiments so often that I am sure that I amcorrect. They all trace their ancestry back to some nobleman in somemysterious way, and think their blood better than that which courses inthe veins of any Northern man, and honestly believe that one of them inwar will be the equal of five men of the North. They think becauseNorthern men will not fight duels, they must necessarily be cowards. Inthe first contest my judgment is that they will be successful. They aretrained with the rifle and shotgun; have taken more pains in militarydrill than the people of the North, and will be in condition for warearlier than the Union forces. They are also in better condition in theway of arms than the Government forces will be. The fact that they hadcontrol of the Government and have had all the best arms turned over tothem by a traitorous Secretary of War, places them on a war footing atonce, while the Government must rely upon purchasing arms from foreigncountries, and possibly of a very inferior character. Until foundriesand machinery for manufacturing arms can be constructed, the Governmentwill be in poor condition to equip troops for good and effectiveservice. This war now commenced will go on; the North will succeed;slavery will go down forever; the Union will be preserved, and for atime the Union sentiment will control the Government; but when reversescome in business matters to the North, the business men there, in orderto get the trade of the South, under the delusion that they can gainpecuniarily by the change, will, through some 'siren song,' turn theGovernment over again to the same blustering and domineering people whohave ever controlled it. This, uncle, is the fear that disturbs me mostat present.'"

  "How prophetic," spoke up Dr. Adams.

  "Yes, yes," exclaimed all present.

  Col. Bush at this point arose and walked across the floor. All eyeswere upon him. Great tears rolled down his bronzed cheeks. In suppressedtones he said:

  "For what cause did I lose my right arm?"

  He again sat down, and for the rest of the evening seemed to be in deepmeditation.

  Uncle Daniel, resuming his story, said:

  "Just as Tom had finished what he was saying, I heard the garden gateopen and shut, and David and Harvey appeared in the moonlight in frontof the porch. These were my second and youngest sons. David lived somefive miles from Allentown, on a farm, and Harvey had been staying at hishouse, helping do the farm work. They were both very much excited. Theirmother, who had left. Mary Anderson in the parlor, came out to enjoy thefresh air with us, and observing the excited condition of her two sons,exclaimed:

  "'Why, my dear boys! what is the matter?'

  "David spoke to his mother, saying:

  "'Do not get excited or alarmed when I tell you that Harvey and I havemade a solemn vow this evening that we will start to Washington city inthe morning.'

  "'For what, my dear sons, are you going?' inquired the mother, muchtroubled.

  "'We are going to tender our services to the President in behalf of theUnion. Harvey is going along with me, believing it his duty. As I waseducated by the Government for the military service, I deem it my dutyto it, when in danger from this infamous and unholy rebellion, to aid inputting it down.'

  "Their mother raised her hands and thanked God that she had not taughtthem lessons of patriotism in vain. She laid her head upon David's manlybreast and wept, and then clasped Harvey in her arms and blessed him asher young and tender child, and asked God to preserve him and return himsafely to her, as he was her cherished hope. Peter, who had been silentduring the entire evening, except the bare suggestion to Tom to enterthe service, now arose from where he was sitting, and extending his handto David, said:

  "'My old boy, I am with you. I shall commence at once to raise acompany.'

  "David turned to his mother and laughingly said:

  "'Mother, you seem to have taught us all the same lesson.'

  "His mother's eyes filled with tears as she turned away to seek Mary.She found her in the parlor teaching her sweet little daughter herprayers. My wife stood looking at the pretty picture of mother and childuntil little Mary Anderson finished, kissed her mamma, and ran off tobed; then entering the room she said:

  "'Mary, my child, I am too weak to speak. I have held up as long as Ican stand it,' and then burst into tears. Mary sprang to her at once,clasping her in her arms.

  "'Dearest auntie, what is the matter? Are you ill?

  "'No! no! my child; I am full of fear and grief; I tremble. My sons aregoing to volunteer. I am grieved for fear they will never return. Oh!Mary! I had such a terrible dream about all the family last night. Oh!I cannot think of it; and yet I want them to go. God knows I love mycountry, and would give all--life and everything--to save it. No, Iwill not discourage them. I will tell you my dream when I have morestrength.'

  "Just then my blessed old wife fainted. Mary screamed, and we all rushedinto the parlor and found her lying on the floor with Mary bending over,trying to restore her. We were all startled, and quickly lifted herup, when she seemed to revive, and was able to sit in a chair. In a fewmoments she was better, and said:

  "'I am all right now; don't worry. I was so startled and overcome at thethought that so many of my dear children were going to leave me at onceand on such a perilous enterprise.'

  "To this Peter answered:

  "'Mother, you ought not to grieve about me. Being an old bachelor, therewill be but few to mourn if I should be killed.'

  "'Yes; but, my son, your mother loves you all the same.'

  "Just then a rap was heard at the window. It being open, a letter wasthrown in upon the floor. I picked it up. It was addressed to 'Thos.Anderson.' I handed it to him. He opened it, and read it to himself, andinstantly turned very pale and walked the floor. His wife took his armand spoke most tenderly, asking what it was that troubled him.

  "'Mary, dear, I will read it,' he said, and unfolding the letter, heread aloud:

  "'Jackson, Miss., June -- 1861.

  "'Dear Tom--You have been denounced to-day in resolutions as a traitor to the Southern cause, and your property confiscated. Serves you right. I am off to-morrow morning for the Confederate Army. Good-by. Love to sister.

  "'Your enemy in war,

  "'JOS. WHITTHORNE.

  "'Mary sank into a chair. For a moment all were silent. At last Tomexclaimed:

  "'What is there now left for me?"

  "His wife, with the stateliness of a queen, as she was, her black hairclustering about her temples and falling around her shoulders and neck,her bosom heaving, her eyes flashing fire, on her tip-toes arose to herutmost height. All gazed upon her with admiration, her husband lookingat her with a wildness almost of frenzy. She clenched both hands andheld them straight down by her side, and exclaimed in a tone that wouldhave made a lion cower:

  "'Would that I were a man! I would not stop until the last traitorbegged for quarter!'

  "Tom flew to her a
nd embraced her, exclaiming:

  "'I was only waiting for that word.'

  "She murmured:

  "'My heavens, can it be that there are any of my blood traitors to thiscountry?'

  "The household were by this time much affected. A long silence ensued,which was broken by David, saying:

  "'Father, Harvey and I having agreed to go to Washington to enter thearmy, I wish to make some arrangements for my family. You know I haveplenty for Jennie and the babies, and I want to leave all in your handsto do with as if it were your own, so that the family will have suchcomforts as they desire.'

  "David's wife, Jennie, was a delightful little woman, with two beautifulchildren--Jennie, named for her mother, and Sarah, for my wife. I saidto David that I would write to his brother James, who was a widower,having no children, to come and stay with Jennie. I at once wrote James,who was practicing medicine at Winchester, Va., that I feared it wouldbe 'unhealthy' for him there, so to come to me at once. This beingdone and all necessary arrangements made, David and Harvey bade all anaffectionate farewell and started for their farm, leaving their motherand Mary in tears. As their footsteps died away their mother went to thedoor, exclaiming, "'Oh, my children! will I ever see you again?' "Thatnight we all joined in a general conversation on the subject of the war.It was arranged that Peter should start next morning for Indianapolis tosee the Governor, and, if possible, obtain authority to raise a regimentunder the call of the President. This having been decided upon we allretired, bidding each other good night. I presume there was littlesleeping in our house that night save what little Mary did, the poorchild being entirely unconscious of the excitement and distress in thefamily. The next morning Peter took the train for Indianapolis, Tom wentdown town to ascertain the latest news, and I took my horse and rodeout to David's farm, leaving the two women in tears, and little Maryinquiring: "'What is the matter, mamma and aunty?' "I rode on in a deepstudy as to the outcome of all this trouble. I came to David's house,unconscious for a moment as to where I was, aroused, however, by hearingsome one crying as if in despair. I looked around and saw it was Jennie.She stood on the door-step in great grief, the two children askingwhere their father had gone. "'Good morning, my daughter,' I said, and,dismounting, I took her in my arms, and laying her head on my shouldershe sobbed as if her heart would break.

  "'O! my dear husband, shall I ever see him again? O! my children, whatshall I do?' was all she could say.

  "I broke down completely, this was too much; the cries of the littlechildren for their papa and the tears of their mother were more than Icould stand. He had never left them before to be gone any great lengthof time. I took Jennie and the children into the house. There was aloneliness and a sadness about the situation that was unendurable, andI at once ordered one of the farm hands to hitch the horses to the wagonand put the family and their little traps in and get ready to take themto my house, and turned David's house over to his head man, Joseph Dent(he being very trusty) to take charge of until David should return. Withthese arrangements I left with the family for Allentown. On our arrivalthe meeting of the three women would have melted the heart of a stone.I walked out to the barn and remained there for quite awhile, thinkingmatters over to myself. When I returned to the house all had becomequiet and seemingly reconciled. For several days all was suspense;nothing had been heard from any of our boys; I tried to keep away fromthe house as much as possible to avoid answering questions asked by thewomen and the poor little children, which I knew no more about than theydid. But while we were at breakfast on the morning of ------, Jenniewas speaking of going out to her house that day to look after matters athome and see that all was going well. Just at this moment a boy enteredwith a letter, saying:

  "'Mr. Burton sent me with this, thinking there might be something thatyou would like to see.'

  "Mr. B. was the Postmaster, and very kind to us. He was a true Unionman, but the opposition there was so strong that he was very quiet; hekept the American flag flying over his office, which was burned on thataccount a few nights later, as was supposed, by Southern sympathizingincendiaries. These were perilous times in Southern Indiana."

  "Yes! Yes!" said Col. Bush. "We had a taste of it in Southern Ohio, whereI then resided; I know all about it. The men who were for mobbing usat that time are now the most prominent 'reformers,' and seem to be themost influential persons.

  Uncle Daniel continued:

  "I opened the letter and read it aloud. It ran substantially as follows:

  "'We arrived at Columbus, O., on the morning of ------, when there was some delay. While walking about the depot I chanced to meet your old friend the Governor. He was very glad to see me, and said to me, "Lyon, you are the very man I am looking for." I asked, "Why, Governor? I am on my way to Washington to tender my services to the President in behalf of the Union." The Governor answered, "You are hunting service, I see. Well, sir, I have a splendid regiment enlisted, but want to have a man of some experience for their Colonel, and as you have been in the Regular Army and maintained a good reputation, I will give you the position if you will take it. I grasped him by the hand and thanked him with all my heart. This was more than I could have expected. So, you see, I start off well. We are now in camp. I am duly installed as Colonel. Harvey has been mustered in and I have him detailed at my headquarters. He seems to take to soldiering very readily. I have written Jennie all about matters. I hope she and my darling children are well and as happy as can be under the circumstances.

  "'Your affectionate son,

  "'David Lyon.'

  "He did not know that I had them at my house, and all were assisting oneanother to keep up courage. This letter affected the whole family, andcaused many tears to fall, in joy as well as grief; joy that he hadsucceeded so well at the beginning, and grief at his absence. Thatevening Jennie received her letter from the 'Colonel' as we now calledhim, all becoming very military in our language. Her letter was of thesame import, but much of it devoted to family affairs. This made Jenniehappy. We all retired and rested well that night, after pleasing thechildren by telling them about their father being a great soldier, andthat they must be good children, and in that way cause their mother towrite pleasant things about them to their good papa."