Pulaski County, Indiana Military History [Civil War]: Part 1

From Counties of White and Pulaski, Indiana: Historical and biographical By Weston Arthur Goodspeed, F.A. Battey & Co., 1883. 

Introduction

From the time of the first settlement in Pulaski County until the great rebellion of 1861, with the single exception of the brief but brilliant campaign in the land of the Montezumas, nothing had transpired to disturb the peaceful pursuits of social life and the steady observance of civil liberty and law. Mothers and maidens had never felt the anguish of separation from loved ones at the stern call of a nation at war. Children had grown to manhood without ever seeing a soldier in military dress, and their loving hearts knew nothing of the sad, wild, glorious things which go to make up war, save what they had read, or what they had been told by their grandfathers who had been with Harrison, or perhaps with Washington.

Photograph from Images of America Pulaski County, by Karen Clem Fritz, Arcadia Publishing, 2009. Original photo from Alyce Onken. Francesville veterans of the Civil War, photo believed to be in the early 1900s.

The old militia system which had been so efficient and popular during the old Indian wars on the frontier, and directly after the close of the war of 1812-15, had loosened its hold upon the public mind during a protracted period of profound peace. Prior to the war with Mexico, a more or less nominal organization was effected and carried on in Pulaski County, and annual musters were enjoyed by large and motly crowds, more intent on frolic and roystering than improvement in military discipline. The cities and larger towns of the State were the only places where military drill was appreciated, and where strict discipline and military pride attained a proficiency nearly equal to that which prevailed in the regular army.

An enactment of the State Legislature, in 1831, provided for the enrollment of all able-bodied militia, and the formation of regiments in the various judicial districts; but the law was largely inert, owing to a lack of sufficient interest due to the sense of public security which the peaceful times afforded. In about the year 1842, or early in 1843, however, a militia organization, called the “Winamac Rifle Rangers,” was completed at the county seat, and, on the 15th of April, 1843, an election of officers took place at the house of Eli Brown, with the following result: For Captain, Rufus Brown, 26 votes ;John P. Miller, 8; First Lieutenant, Stephen Bruce, 33; Second Lieutenant, Frederick Klinger, 20; John R. Price, 13; Thomas H. Keys, 1; Ensign, Job J. Holmes, 15; Thomas H. Keys, 6; Luke Hacket, 1. The one receiving the highest number of votes for each office was declared duly elected.

Soon after this, the company met for parade, on which occasion hundreds were present to see the evolutions of the company, and enjoy the sport. But within two or three years the military fire died out, and was not again kindled until the Mexican war, when another organization was partly completed, but soon abandoned.

In 1852, owing to the unsettled state of internal public affairs, the system was again revived by legislative enactment, and each Congressional District was required to thoroughly organize its militia. This law met with general public favor and response. The County Commissioners directed the Auditor to procure from Indianapolis the quota of arms due the county under the law. This was accordingly done, and the arms were distributed to the members of the new company of militia.

For a few years, until the novelty wore off, the militia mustered quite often; but about the year 1857, the arms were returned to the capital of the State, and no other call to arms was made until 1861. After this war, or in 1876, the militia was again organized, and guns were obtained from the State; but in 1879, the system was again abandoned, and the muskets were returned to Indianapolis.

Mexican War

So far as can be learned, no man, then a resident of Pulaski County, served his country in the war with Mexico. A company was organized at Logansport, with Stanislaus LaSalle, Captain; W. L. Brown, First Lieutenant; D. M. Dunn, Second Lieutenant; G. W. Blackmore, Third Lieutenant. Another was organized at Crown Point, with Joseph P. Smith, Captain; William H. Slade, First Lieutenant; Samuel N. Whitcomb, Second Lieutenant.

Doubtless, each of these companies contained men who, some time in the past, made Pulaski County their abiding place. The following is as perfect a list as could be procured by the writer of the men who served in the Mexican war, and who have since resided in the county. There may be some mistakes in this list: John P. Liming and his son, Andrew Liming, the latter now a resident of Van Buren Township, also served in the last great war; Zemariah Williamson, who died in the service, and whose father secured his land warrant of a quarter-section in Van Buren Township; Peter Lane, who formerly lived near Winamac; Mr. Updegraff; O. H. P. Grover, an early resident of Winamac, who served in the Logansport company in the First Indiana Regiment; Charles Humphrey; J. B. Agnew, a resident of Winamac and one of its most prominent citizens, who lost his leg in a skirmish with Mexican guerrillas; Mr. Phipps, John Hodges, E. P. Potter, Charles Hathaway, G. H. Barnett and Francis H, Snyder. Doubtless, this is but an imperfect list. It would be interesting to give a more extended account of the military services of each of the above men, but this is impossible, owing to their scattered location.

Andrew Liming, yet living on the same farm, obtained from the Government in virtue of his military warrant, was in the Third Indiana Regiment, and participated in the battle of Buena Vista. He was a young man then, in the prime of life, and recalls vividly the details of that decisive battle. He denies positively the alleged cowardice of Indiana troops—a stigma that was unwillingly borne by them until wiped out by scores of gallant achievements during the last stupendous war.

He insists that the Second Indiana, which was posted on a plateau about 200 feet high, and on the extreme left of Gen. Taylor’s battle line, did not leave the field until ordered to retreat by the Colonel; and even then the momentary disorder into which the men were thrown was wholly due to the fact that they had not been drilled to retreat—an important and vital omission in the military education of a true soldier.

His own regiment, the Third Indiana, was posted to support Washington’s battery, which was so well served that, when Santa Anna endeavored to force the pass in solid column, the storm of shot and shell was so terrific that his swarming legions were sent flying back in full retreat. Then it was that the Mexican commander flanked to the right and fell upon Taylor’s left, forcing the Second Indiana back across a deep ravine, and gaining the rear of the Government troops.

Another important point insisted upon by Mr. Liming, who was so situated that he could see all the movements of both armies, detracts somewhat from the credit usually accorded Jefferson Davis (ex-President of the Confederacy). He states that Davis had nothing to do with repelling the charge of the Mexican Lancers after the Government troops had been flanked, except, perhaps, the moral effect which the presence of his men afforded. The command of Davis was back some four hundred yards from the front, and simply served to support the regiments which forced the Mexicans back across the plateau.

The boys who went to Mexico must not be forgotten under the shadow of the last great war. It was no holiday undertaking to go from the comparatively cold climate of the Northern States to the hot and peculiar climate of Mexico. The appalling sacrifice of life from disease abundantly attests the peril which the men assumed for the country’s good. Many were left there in lonely, deserted and forgotten graves, and the rugged cactus comes and kisses with its crimson blossoms the silent mounds where they sleep; the rich flowers of the stately magnolia shed their fragrant perfume around; the long festoons of silvery moss hang pendant above the quiet graves; the rustling wind and the dancing rain pay their passing tribute to the glory of the departed; and over all the strange, bright birds of that sunny clime chant the sad requiem of death. The boys are gone, but their names are living jewels in the bright casket of memory.