Biographical sketches and anecdotes of a soldier of three wars

Preface

There is no necessity of a long preface here, but I will merely state that while time was hanging heavily on my hands, I often called upon my old friends and acquaintances, and conversations often drifted to my past experiences ; this led my friends to urge me to put my experiences into book form so that the public might have the benefit of them. This I finally concluded to do. Not that my experiences were so much more startling, or more wonderful, than those of thousands of others, but of their being so varied and extraordinary, and extending over so long a period and during a time when our country's conditions were so far different from the present, that I deemed it worthy of recording, especially as it was so urgently desired by my friends. Hence this publication, which I hope will please, if it does not edify.

I have tried to relate the anecdotes, matters and events as closely to memory as possible, and if anything conflicts with history, I give it as I saw it, and liave related as little as possible of historic matter, that I might not write anything conflicting with history.

The Author.

Affectionately Dedicated

To MY Dear Wife, Mrs. J. D. Elderkin, who shared my joys and my sorrows, and followed my fortunes through camp and field, and in the busy walks of life, as well as mv oem and joy of domestic life.

MAJOR J. D. ELDERKIN.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES

AND

ANECDOTES

OF

A SOLDIER OF THREE WARS,

AS WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

THE FLORIDA, THE MEXICAN WAR AND THE GREAT REBELLION, TOGETHER WITH SKETCHES OF TRAVEL, ALSO OF SERVICE IN A MILI- TIA COMPANY AND A MEMBER OF THE DETROIT LIGHT GUARD BAND FOR OVER THIRTY YEARS.

BY

JAMES D.'^ELDERKJN,

DETROIT, MICH, MAY 1, 1899.

38137

Copyright, 1890,

By J. D. EL.DERKIN,

Detroit, Mich.

wocopu a ^»ic::lV£0, l:'s^8r of Cc^J

Biographical Sketches and Anecdotes,

BY

MAJOR J. D. ELDERKIN,

A VETERAN OF THREE WARS.

MY BIRTH PLACE AND BOYHOOD DAYS.

I was born near Salmon River, N. Y., December i6, 1820, and was brought up at Baldwinsville, town of Lysander, Onondaga Co., N. Y. My father was a carpenter and joiner, and a sound Jackson Democrat. He Hved to seventy years of age, and could have run a footrace the day before his death. He was of Scotch lineage, and the sturdy Scotchman could be seen in his every move. Up to my fourteenth year I remained at home helping my father and attending school some; but being of a restless nature, I left home at fourteen years of age, or in 1834. I remained away about a year. During this year of absence I spent most of the time as a driver on the Erie canal.

A STARTLIxNG EXPERIKNTCE.

My first experience was a startling and dangerous one: A man from Baldwinsville, whom I knew well, and who was part owner of a boat, employed me as a driver. The captains name was Tarbox. We were carrying lumber from Fulton to Albany. The first morning I started out nearly put an end to my career as a canal driver, and also of my life. We had loaded the boat while in the Oswego river, and were about to enter the canal. When the captain told me he would take charge of my team and I should go on the boat and cast off the towline. This was in consequence of our entering a lock, which would take us from the river into the canal. The team I was driving was a young and spirited team. I went to the bow of the boat to execute the order and stood with my back to the cabin, ignorant of what might take place. The team gave a sudden jerk and detached the plank I was leaning against and I was hurled into the river. The boat hit me on the head and back and doubled me up. The depth of water saved my life. Had it been in the canal, it would have killed me. At any rate, it was a narrow escape, as I could not swim a stroke, but soon struck bottom and fished myself out by wading ashore.

After we unloaded at Albany and started on our return trip we went very slow, only using one horse and not running nights. The forward cabin was used for the horses and the after cabin for a dining-room and sleeping room. For a long distance the canal runs parallel with the Mohawk river, and is very high, sometimes fifty feet above the river. On this occasion, as we were passing through Little Falls, we were just coming out of a lock, when the towdine broke and the horse went down the embankment. It killed the horse and nearly killed me. I felt the effects of the fall for years after.

The above represent a few of my many narrow escapes; and no wonder, for Prof. Lyman E. Stowe, the astrologer, and an old comrade, tells me I was born in the sign "Sagittarius,'' the sign of accidents, and that I was destined to experience many narrow escapes from accidents. Whether or not there is any truth in astrology I do not know, but certain it is that I have met with a great number of narrow escapes from serious injury and death from accidents.

After a year of tough experience for a boy I returned to lialdwinsville; but upon returning I found no home, my mother having died before my first departure, my father's family was scattered, and I found no place to go when I returned, so I immediately went to my brother John's house. My brother John was an architect and builder — just starting out in business life.

One morning I went over where he was working, and finding him laying out timber, I thought I might make myself useful, and so picked up a corner chisel and began mortising timber. My brother came over and called my attention to the nature of the timber, and cautioned me, saying: "Be very careful or you may break the chisel." I replied: "All right; but I think there is no danger." But, alas! a moment after the chisel snapped. I was so dumbfounded I knew not what to do. Such a chisel, in those days, cost several dollars, and I had no money to purchase a new one for him, and I could not face him with the misfortune, and so fled. I did not see him again for thirteen years, until I returned from the Mexican war. He then came to Detroit to see me, and almost the first words he said, as he shook hands, was: "The last time I saw yon, 1 just got a glimpse of your coat tail as you flitted around the corner." And he laughed at me heartily.

After the incident of the chisel I thought I had no place on earth where I was welcome. I now started out on a life of wandering, which lasted for many years. Having no money. I was compelled to take a little of the experience of a tramp. I\Iy first employment was on the Erie canal, near Schenectady, X. Y., as a driver of a horse and cart. I stopped here for a short time and again commenced my wanderings for a better position. I got employment for a time in a hvery stable, and afterwards, for a time, at the Mansion House, Utica, N. Y.; but I soon started on again. Having but very little money, I soon ran out of funds, and my experience as a tramp began to be severe indeed, until one day, while wandering in the streets of Schenectady a kindly old gentleman asked me if I would like a bowl of clam soup, as I was standing outside smelling the soup. I replied that I w^ould, and I think I never eat anything I thought tasted quite as good. While in the restaurant a couple of United States soldiers came in. I asked them if they knew of anv one that wanted a l)ov for work, and the\- in turn asked me how I would like to 1)ecome a soldien I replied that T would like it. I thought anythingwould be preferable to the life of a tramp I was living.

I was nineteen years of age, for this was in 1839 r but the officer told me I would have to claim I was twenty-one years old or I could not enlist. This, of course, I did, ,' and a few^ days later became one of Uncle Sam's soldiers.

When quite a lad, I liked to play the flute, and one of the pleasant memories of my boyhood days was of sitting on the banks of the Seneca river, with my feet in the water, and wdiile playing the flute the fish would nibble at my toes and perform other amusing antics while seemingly attracted by the music of my flute. And while my calls on the fish were quite regular, if I chanced to be late I would find them actually jumping out of the water, as if to see if I were coming.

This practice with the flute turned out to be of great service to me wdiile in the army, as my music was. always in demand.

We remained at the recruiting office \vith Lieut- Prince, the recruiting officer, for about two months, and then went to Bedloes Island, where we. remained for two or three davs.

The only incident of note to me that transpired here was the loss of my last suit of underwear, which I washed and hung on the line, keeping my eyes on them while they dried. But, alas! I went to dinner, to return and find my underwear gone. This loss was nearly irreparable for a time, as I could not draw on the government to replace them until we arrived at some regular barracks. But through the kindness of Sergt. Head, who gave me a suit of his own, I was saved from the winter blasts that howled through the rigging of the ship St. Mary, which we now boarded to be taken to New Orleans.

We were two weeks making our trip from New York to New Orleans. For the most of the way the weather was very bad; it was so bad that the cooks could not get us a warm meal, and we lived on hardtack and raw pork. But at last it cleared up and we were bowling along in the Gulf of Mexico under a spanking breeze and a magnificent setting sun, when I noticed a little black speck of a cloud arising above the horizon not large enough to make a man a shirt, as the sailors say; but in less than five minutes the sky was overcast and a blizzard struck our good ship and threw her on her beam's end and the sails partially under water, when I heard the captain's cry, as he came from the cabin: "Let go the halyard.'' The o-ood ship righted, but her ballast was so shifted that she rode the rest of the way into port nearly on her side, showing her bottom to the sun. Of course none of us ever expected to reach port, but we were saved, or I could not narrate this incident here.

We remained at New Orleans but two days, when we took a steamer down the Mississippi river to the mouth of the Arkansas river, thence up past Little Rock to the Grand river and to Fort Gibson, which was then in the wilds of Arkansas and Indian Territory, and was in the Cherokee nation. Here I joined my regiment, the Fourth United States Infantry, Company D, and this regiment was my home for fifteen years. The regiment was under the command of Maj. Stanford. We remained at this post two years.

Perhaps a few incidents of our camp life there will interest the reader:

Lieut. was the adjutant of our regiment; a

very fine appearing man, but not well liked by the men, and we will let the reader judge of his merits by one of his dastardly acts.

m

The Grand river rises away up in the Rocky Mountains, and is a stream of beautiful, clear, cold water. On the west side of the river the Creek nation was stationed, and on the east side the Cherokee nation. These Indians were well mixed with the whites, and consequently well civilized. Just above the fort the river was crossed by a ferry. A hawser was stretched across the river and a large flat boat used for the ferry. This was attached to the hawser by ropes and pulleys. By drawing- the bow of the boat well up stream the swift current propelled the boat across.

The charges for crossing the river, to white men, was one dollar. The Indians could cross free. I was detailed as corporal of the squad that had the boat in charge, and hence was in position to take particular note of the incident I am about to relate.

The chief of the Creek nation was the father of the noblest and most beautiful maiden I ever saw. She

was half white and every inch a lady. Adjt. fell

in love with and married her, and lived with her two years, and it was then currently reported that he cruelly abandoned her; but he paid the penalty with his life, as he was shot through the heart at the battle of Monterev, Mex.

Many a time I have watched that fine pair ride over the lovely prairies on a wolf hunt. I have watched the beautiful plumes in her hat waving in the sunlight as far as the eye could reach.

She often crossed the river from the fort to see her father, when she would invariably call me to her and I say: "Now, corporal, here is a dollar for my fare. Put it in your pocket. Do not give it to the adjutant, as , I am an Indian and have a right to go free; so you f keep the dollar for yourself." The perfect ladyship of this beautiful woman was remarked by the whole regiment, and their indignation was expressed at her cruel abandonment.

While stationed at Fort Gibson we built the military road to Fort Smith, ninety miles below us. To protect the men from malaria, the government served a gill of whisky daily to each man; but, of course, there were men in the regiment who hankered for more, and could never be satisfied until they could drink no I more. So on pay days they would soon be found intoxicated if they could possibly get the whisky to get drunk on. On one occasion, just after pay day, Capt. Buchanan, of Company B, an officer everybody liked, Avas officer of the day.