In due time, with little delay en route, the artillery reached Columbus, homeward bound. The tanned and ragged volunteers, fresh from fields of glory, were welcomed with great enthusiasm at the state capital. They had done well their part and their fame had gone before them, losing nothing in its travels. They were looked upon as the saviors of their country and people of every grade and rank were proud to do them honor.
It may well be imagined that the boys were in a hurry to get home, and the formalities necessary to their release were hurried as fast as possible. The officers and men were paraded for muster and were mustered in and out of the United States service at the same time. Then all were paid off in gold. The amount received did not, it is true, raise them at once to a condition of opulence. Less than fifty dollars apiece didn’t look very large for more than three months of such toil, hardship and danger, but for the time, with the gold chinking in his pocket, each man felt as if he owned a bank. Their financial condition was in marked contrast to the state of chronic insolvency in which they had been so long, for they had had no funds with which to patronize the sutler except such as was sent them at irregular intervals by friends at home. Whenever one of them got ten dollars he was looked upon as a Rothschild or a Vanderbilt and loans were negotiated with a rapidity that soon exhausted his wealth. As a general thing when a man got any money it was quickly absorbed by the liquidation of his debts. After the interview with the paymaster at Columbus there was a universal squaring of accounts.
The horses and other property belonging to the state were turned over to the authorities, and the “regiment” was soon ready to start for Cleveland. The men had been permitted to bring with them from Western Virginia (as a recognition of their valor and conspicuous services), the piece of artillery captured at Carrick’s Ford, and four long-eared mules which the rebels had used as the propelling power of the cannon in their migratory wanderings. These trophies were guarded with zealous care, for the boys were proud of them, as they had a right to be. At Columbus they were objects of the greatest curiosity and interest. War, right at home, was then a new thing to the people of the country and anything of this nature was regarded as a nine-days’ wonder.
While at Columbus a telegram was received by Colonel Barnett from Amasa Stone, Esq., of Cleveland, inquiring at what time the artillery would arrive in Cleveland. The friends of the warriors as well as the citizens generally desired to know in order that they might give them a fitting reception. The dispatch was duly answered as soon as the time of departure could be definitely fixed. At length all things were ready, and after midnight of July 28th the happy artillerymen, with their trophies of cannon and mules, left for Cleveland. How the boys shouted and yelled as the train “pulled out” of the depot and sped away toward “home, sweet home!” In fact they didn’t do much but yell all the way to Cleveland. Their coming had been heralded along the route and at every station crowds of people greeted them in the most tumultuous manner. If the boys could have charged dime museum price for looking at the gun and mules from rebeldom they would have made their fortunes.
Meanwhile elaborate preparations were going on in Cleveland to welcome the returning volunteers with open arms. They were expected to arrive during the forenoon and before 9 o’clock a great multitude of people thronged the railroad and its approaches. It was something like the crowd that, more than three months before, had assembled to bid them farewell and God speed. Shortly before the arrival of the train the city militia and the fire department marched down Champlain street and formed in line near the railroad.
At ten o’clock the train came in sight and as it drew up to the point of debarkation at the foot of Vineyard—now known as South Water—street a mighty volume of cheers went up from the assembled multitude—cheers for Colonel Barnett, cheers for the brave soldiers, and cheers for the cannon and mules that the boys had captured from the “seceshers.” As the men stepped from the cars they were clasped in the arms of loved ones, who wept tears of joy at the safe return of sons and brothers and husbands. Then came the hearty and effusive greetings of friends and acquaintances, amidst constant cheering and the music of brass bands. It was a glorious reception, creditable alike to the people of Cleveland and to those who so well merited the demonstration.
After the hand-shaking and words of welcome were over the returned soldiers formed in procession, a conspicuous object in the column being the rebel 6-pounder, to which were attached the mules lately in the Confederate service. Two of the soldiers served in the capacity of muleteers, each bestriding the “nigh” animal of one of the teams. The novel outfit was prodigiously cheered along the entire line of march.
Escorted by the city organizations, the fire department and an immense throng of people, the “veterans” marched up Superior street to the Public Square, General A. S. Sanford acting as marshal. The whole street was thronged with men, women and children, with smiles of greeting upon their faces and shouts upon their lips. The windows and balconies were filled with ladies, who waved their handkerchiefs in kindly welcome and clapped their hands as the “brown soldiers come back from the borders” went tramping by. Company D, Captain P. W. Rice, carried a rebel flag captured at Philippi which was loudly cheered—not because it was an emblem of treason but because it was captured by Cleveland volunteers.
Arrived at the Park the artillerymen were formed in a hollow square, surrounded by thousands of people, and were addressed as follows by Judge Samuel Starkweather, who had been chosen to extend a formal welcome home:
To the Light Artillery and Colonel Barnett, their gallant and noble commander.