Reminiscences of the Cleveland Light Artillery

by Anonymous

The Chicago company owed its existence in a great measure to the Cleveland Artillery. It grew and prospered, and early in the war became the nucleus of the First Regiment Illinois Light Artillery, as the Cleveland company did of the Ohio regiment. Indeed, it may fairly be said that the influence of the Cleveland Artillery was a wide-spread, and a potential factor, through the removal of its members from time to time, in awakening an interest before the war in that arm of the military service. During the war there was no inconsiderable number of artillery officers who entered the army from other states, whose first instruction was received years before, while members of the old Cleveland battery. Its complement of men was usually from seventy-five to one hundred, and during the twenty years and more of its existence many of these dropped out of the ranks and were widely scattered, their places being filled by others. The seed thus sown produced an abundant crop of artillerymen.

General Barnett tells that in the fall of 1863 he was directing the march of some artillery through one of the valleys between the mountain ranges near Chattanooga. The weather was cold and wet and the roads wretched. He came upon a Missouri battery stuck fast in the Tennessee mud. Gun carriages and caissons were sunk to the hubs and obstinately refused to budge an inch, despite the floundering efforts of the panting horses and the picturesque profanity of the drivers. Animals and men were wet and bespattered, and about equally discouraged. The captain, in a despairing condition, sat on his horse surveying the scene, apparently caring little whether there were any stars left in the old flag or not. Gen. Barnett doubled teams with him and at length succeeded in “yanking” him out of the mire. In conversation with him the general learned that the captain was an old-time member of the Cleveland artillery, and it was in consequence of what he learned in that company that he was induced to raise a battery and go to war in earnest.

In October, 1847, A. S. Sanford was elected captain of the Artillery and continued in that position for four years. David L. Wood was then again chosen and continued in command until a short time before the breaking out of the war.

The Cleveland Light Artillery was so successful and popular that in 1851 it was doubled in strength and its armament was increased to four guns. At this time there was no organization of the militia of Ohio, and very little had been done by the state authorities to foster and encourage the military spirit. Few could then have believed that ten years later the tocsin of war would be sounded, and that more than three hundred thousand men from Ohio alone would march to the tented field—and not for holiday or “feather-bed” soldiering, either. It is safe to say that Ohio will never again be found in a state of such unreadiness—but may the good Lord deliver us from any more war! The survivors of the First Ohio Light Artillery will all devoutly say Amen to this. Like all the rest who served in the Civil War, they know when they have had enough.

After much urging and coaxing the state authorities did at length consent to lend a helping hand. When the Cleveland Artillery was enlarged to a four-gun battery the state furnished the guns and harness. The company supplied everything else, including caissons, uniforms, and equipments of every kind. It still retained its status as an independent organization. In fact there was no law of Ohio authorizing artillery companies in any shape, and the small aid that was grudgingly extended to the Cleveland battery was more of a gratuity than anything else.

But the company continued to prosper just the same. Its membership was composed of excellent material, including young men from many of the best families of the city. All were earnest and ambitious in their efforts and they soon reached a high state of skill and efficiency in handling their guns and in all the details of the tactics in which they were instructed. They had showy uniforms for public occasions, with plenty of red in them, suggestive of sanguinary scenes, and presented a really gorgeous appearance when parading the streets. They won the applause of the multitude, the smiles of the fair, and admiring yells from the small boys. For in those ante-bellum days a cannon on wheels was regarded with unspeakable awe; and a man in military dress awakened the liveliest emotions in the popular mind.

In February, 1852, the company was first called upon for military duty. On the 17th of that month a serious riot occurred at a medical college situated at the corner of Prospect and Ontario streets. The trouble grew out of the exposure of some human bones from the dissecting room. A citizen who imagined them to be the remains of his daughter, whose body he thought had been stolen for dissection, gathered a formidable mob of excited people and moved upon the college with the avowed purpose of razing it to the ground and of hanging the doctors and students to the nearest lamp posts. The sheriff soon found that he had more on hand than he could manage and ordered out the Light Artillery to his assistance. The members of the company responded with alacrity and promptly appeared upon the ground, unlimbering their pieces they double shotted them in full view of the rioters, who were warned that if they did not instantly disperse the guns would be fired. The men stood at their posts, ready to fire at the word, but the rioters broke and fled from the scene, in a slate of confused demoralization. For precautionary reasons the battery remained on duty, “holding the fort,” for forty-eight hours, by the end of which time the excitement had abated and there was no repetition of the hostile demonstration.

This incident clearly showed the value of such a body of trained men, to meet emergencies liable at times to arise in a rapidly growing city, where sudden excitement, often without reason, leads unthinking men to acts of lawlessness, which set the civil authorities at defiance. The company had fairly won its first victory, fortunately a bloodless one. Its members were highly complimented for their prompt response to the call and their cool steadiness in the face of the excited mob. It was an occasion to test the stuff they were made of, though not to be compared with the scenes of carnage that some of those men faced without flinching in after years.

The people of Cleveland began to feel a pride in the Light Artillery, and to give the company substantial support and assistance. Again it became necessary to have more commodious quarters, and sufficient funds were contributed by the citizens and the members of the company to build a new armory. The building was erected in 1852, near the present junction of Ohio and Hill streets. The use of the ground on which it stood was given by Mr. John Walworth.

The fame of the company went abroad throughout the land and invitations were received from far and near to attend large public gatherings. In 1852 an excursion was made by lake to Sandusky, at the request of citizens of that place, by whom the artillerists were handsomely entertained. In September of the same year the anniversary of the Battle of Lundy’s Lane was celebrated by an immense assemblage of people with great pomp and ceremony at Niagara Falls. The Cleveland Light Artillery, accompanied by a large number of its friends, went by steamer to Buffalo. There the horses were hitched to guns and caissons and the company marched to the Falls, attracting much attention along the route. The battery took an active part in the celebration, dividing the honors with Major Fay’s “crack” Buffalo company of artillery. In 1853 the Cleveland company attended by special invitation a large encampment of the New York state militia at Syracuse, commanded by General Swan. The battery was warmly received and was a prominent feature of the encampment.