The Seventh Regiment: A Record

by George L. Wood

After the bodies of the fallen braves had been laid side by side, the remaining few of a once full regiment gathered around and mourned,—the silence alone being broken by the tears and sobs of a band of warriors, grieving for the loss of their chieftains. Was such a scene ever witnessed? Those forms, now cold and bloody, had often led them on the field of carnage, to victory and glory; under their leadership the regiment had been made immortal; and now, in all their pride, and glory, and chivalry, they had gone down to rise no more. No wonder, then, that their brave followers paid their last tribute to all that was mortal of their renowned leaders. It seemed to these mourners, in their loss the regiment itself was blotted out—that it would no more be known and honored—that its sun had forever set. But no, many a brave heart, that stood in that circle, was to be made a sacrifice to his country; many more hearts were to be left crushed and bleeding for the loved ones fallen in battle. When the last tear had been shed, and the last vow made over these fallen braves, the regiment moved away in profound silence.

While this scene was being enacted afar off among the hills of Georgia, the peaceful valleys of Ohio were echoing with the lamentations of friends at home. The hearts of the people of the Western Reserve were bound by the strong ties of kin and friendship to this gallant regiment, which had but just made its great sacrifice, and they were all in mourning. When the news came of this great disaster, it could not be believed; the friends of the fallen would not give them up. And it was not until a dispatch was received that their bodies were on the way home, that it was generally believed. At last, when the people realized that the sad news was indeed true, meetings were called by the representatives of all branches of trade and industry. Resolutions of respect were passed, and preparations made to receive the dead, on their arrival, in a becoming manner.

When General Hooker learned of the death of Creighton and Crane, he raised both hands, in surprise and grief, exclaiming, "My God! are they dead? Two braver men never lived!"

General Butterfield, chief of staff, gave orders to remove the bodies to the rear. They were conveyed to Chattanooga by Sergeant Tisdell, where they were met by Quartermaster Loomis, and privates Wetzel, Shepherd, and Meigs. General Slocum testified his appreciation of their worth, by accompanying their bodies as far as Tullahoma. When the news reached him of their death, his grief was so profound, that the stern veteran burst into tears.

They were taken to Nashville to be embalmed. But little, however, could be done for Creighton, as he had bled inwardly; his body was therefore put into a metallic case. Crane's body was embalmed, and placed in a plain, but neat coffin, till it should arrive in Cleveland and be transferred to a burial case. Dr. Newbury, of the Sanitary Commission, rendered much service in this work, after which he accompanied the remains to Louisville. From this place they were forwarded to Cincinnati by train, where they were met by the special escort from Cleveland, consisting of Colonel Hayward, Lieutenant-Colonel J. T. Sterling, Lieutenant-Colonel Frazee, Captain Baird, Captain Molyneaux, Captain De Forest, Captain Wiseman, Surgeon Cushing, and Quartermaster Chapin.

On Sunday morning the train dashed into Cleveland, and stopped at the foot of Superior-street. Two hearses were in waiting. One for Colonel Creighton, drawn by four white horses; the other for Lieutenant-Colonel Crane, drawn by four black horses. Each was draped by American flags and the usual insignia of mourning.

The remains of Colonel Creighton were now removed from the car to the hearse, and conveyed to the residence of Mrs. Creighton, on Bolivar-street. The remains of Lieutenant-Colonel Crane remained under guard, till the return of the escort, when they were taken to the residence of the widow.

This bright Sabbath will long be remembered. But a few short Sabbaths before, the coffined dead left the city of their homes, possessed of life and hope: looking forward with pride and happiness to the termination of an honorable career in the service of their country. And often in their night vigils, over the dying embers of their picket-fires, had they conversed on the subject, passing the long night in dreams never to be realized. The remaining few of your followers have, indeed, long since returned; and although the hearts and feet of these brave warriors were heavy with the tramp of weary months, yet your slumber was not disturbed. Long years shall roll away, in which war's tumult and carnage shall cease; but you shall only be known among men by your good deeds left behind, and perpetuated in the hearts of your countrymen.

On the 7th of December the bodies of Creighton and Crane were brought from the residences of their families and taken to the Council Hall, for the purpose of lying in state, to be seen by the public. The same hearses were used as on the arrival of the bodies from the South.

The Council Hall was elegantly and appropriately decorated. In the centre, within the railing, a handsome canopy had been placed, with roof of national flags, draped with mourning emblems, suspended from the ceiling, and trailing at the corners to the ground. Wreaths, loops, and festoons of black and white edged the canopy. On the inside, from the centre, hung a large pendant of mourning emblems, beneath which was the bier on which lay the bodies of the gallant dead.