John L. Rogers Interesting War Experiences
Narrow Escape #43
Ironton Register – September 8, 1887
Submitted by Peggy Wells
“Halt, there, John L. Rogers, didn’t you have a “Narrow Escape” in the army?”
“Yes, I had a few,” he said.
“Well, please reach down in your memory for a good one, for the Register.”
“I have one already in mind. Some of the boys wanted me to give it to the Register, but I thought I’d wait till you wanted it right.”
“Now is the time,” said the reporter; “let us have it.”
“I belonged to Company G 4th Ohio Cavalry. In the Fall of 1862, probably in October, a battalion of 300 of us was sent to Lexington, Ky., under Capt. Robby, to watch the enemy in that region. We reached the place just at dusk. Lieut. Shoemaker, of Dayton, Ohio, had charge of the patrol of which I was and was stationed in the Court House. While the Regiment went into camp just outside the city.
All went well till about 4 o’clock the next morning. We were getting ready to start with the relief when to our great dismay, we heard musketry on the street and in the direction of our battalion camp. Then we struck out to the livery stable to get our horses but soon saw we were cut off on every side. We then hastened back into the Courthouse, barred the door, and took our stand in the second story. There were just thirteen of us, and we fixed for a fight. We put our cartridges on the window sills and got ready for action.
“It was just dawn when Col. Morgan came marching up the street with his regiment. Now don’t get disgusted if “I” is prominent all the way through. This is a personal experience. I said, “There they come, don’t shoot,” said the Lieutenant, “they are Home Guards, don’t you see their blue overcoats?” And sure enough, there were the blue overcoats. Just then, a voice rang out from the head of the regiment, “Come down out of there, you d— Yankees, or we will bring you down.” “Home Guards, h—, they are rebels,” I said, and bang went my carbine, followed by eleven others. Then the fun began.
Our firing was damaging to the foe, while theirs was harmless to us. The rebs soon retreated out of range, and then after some skirmishing, the firing ceased for a time. Then a white flag came down the street, and the bearer demanded that we surrender. We refused, and skirmishing began again, during which a reb fell dead who attempted to haul down our flag.
After a while, under another flag of truce, came a second demand to surrender, which was refused. The third flag came up the street and stopped opposite the Court House. Four men were with it – two rebel officers, the Mayor of Lexington, and Capt. Robby, who was a prisoner.
Down the street were three cannons, and at their mussels, three of our men tied to show us they were prisoners. We chided the boys for their bad luck and company. The reb officers again demanded our surrender, and we said, “Never.” Then the Mayor said, “Soldiers of the United States, you have done your duty.
I am the Mayor of Lexington, and Gen. Morgan has captured all the troops outside the Courthouse and is here with his whole army, and says if you refuse to surrender this time, he will burn the city and shell the Courthouse. In the name of the citizens of Lexington, I ask you, as brave soldiers, to surrender, to save the city from ashes.”
Then Capt. Robby said, “Yes, boys, you must surrender.” We said, “Never – as long as a man is left.” Then the rebel officer said, “Gen. Morgan says he will parole you all at once, and you shall have all your private property and be treated like gentlemen.” So, we held a short council of war, and as our ammunition was about gone, we agreed to surrender and Lieut. Shoemaker, an as brave a man as ever wore a saber, announced the fact.
We went down, opened the door, and filed out with our carbines and sabers in our hands. Our first greeting was a wild yell, “throw down them arms.” The street was full of rebel troops in the battle line as if they expected to be attacked by thirteen poor scared boys. We pitched our arms into a pile and filed into line on the sidewalk facing John Morgan’s army.
Gen. Morgan rode up and said, “Is this all the men in the Courthouse? Take off your hats, and let me see if you have horns. You look to be real human beings, but what sort of devils are you to keep an army of 7000 at bay for six long hours? Go back to your post, get your paroles there, go home, and stay there, for God’s sake. I don’t want to fight your kind – you have killed and wounded of my men more than three times your number.” One of the killed was his cousin, who he said was the best officer he had.
“As he renewed his orders to “go get the paroles,” I said, “General, our clothing and other private property is at the livery stable; you said we should have it.” “Yes, that’s all right,” said the General, and he called out a guard to take us to the livery stable. There we found our saddles piled in a heap and skinned of everything. I had a picture of my father and mother in my saddle pockets that I wanted very badly, and I told the Quartermaster he would find my name on my saddle. “What is your name,” he asked, and I told him.
Then he called out to a tall fellow: “Hello, Jim, come here and see one of your Yankee relations.” “Not much,” said I. “Why?” asked the Quartermaster. “Because,” I replied, “there is no d—n rebel related to me.” “What,” said the Q.M., “say that again.” I said it again, for I was pretty mad, and the blamed scamp out with his big revolver cocked it, looked pale, and said, “go away, you black livered Yankee, or I’ll blow your head off.” I, like a fool, said, “crack away – you are an infernal coward to pull that on me.” “Go away,” he screamed with the pistol right in my face when Will Deering and Clum Wakefield pulled me away, or I believe he would have shot me right there.
“Well, we didn’t get any private property. The rebs. attended to that before we got there, so we returned to the Courthouse and got our paroles. Then after a big dinner at the hotel, which Gen. Morgan ordered for us and paid for himself, we started overland afoot for the Ohio river at Covington. Our party members started afoot: Orderly Sergeant Isaac Moore, Elisha Thornton, Columbus G. Wakefield, William Deering, Elizur C. Newton, G. W. Gould, Henry Arnett, and myself. We were three days on the road, and it was hard for a soldier to get anything to eat along that route.
“On the second day, we came up to a colored man with a wagon and two mules. We pressed him into the service for a ride. We were all right for a few miles when four men rode up behind the wagon and stayed with us till we got near some small town. I had forgotten the name when the big man told one of his associates to change with the darkey, and drive the team himself, to which we demurred.
Soon, when the team reached a certain point in the town, the big man ordered the negro to stop. He had gone as far as he could go. Let the soldiers get out and walk now. We remonstrated, but the big man said it was no good. He was the Sheriff of that county and would put us in jail if we didn’t get out, and here came about 25 citizens, some with shotguns and some with revolvers.
One little fellow who seemed to be the leader said: “Give ‘em to us – – – ‘em; we’ll fix ‘em.” “You will,” said I, “- – what are you? d – guerillas?” At this, he swore he “could whip any – – Yankee in the Yankee army.” I wasn’t then as I am now. I weighed 185 pounds and wanted to tackle the fellow, but the Sheriff said, “Get out of here – go away,” Thornton and Moore pulled me away, and we went on.
“We were fearfully hungry, so about sundown, we stopped at a house on the road and got a splendid supper. I thought they would want to pay, and as we hadn’t done anything, I concluded to get done first and go on, letting the other boys wrestle with the bill, but I hadn’t gotten far till I was called. It was Moore’s voice. He said they wanted to pay and for me to come back and do the talking.
I found the boys talking to a man at the gate post. That was the doctor, who was talking for the lady of the house who was sick. I explained our situation, and he said it was not his affair – to go and talk with the lady. So I went in the sick room and told the woman the circumstances, and she said we were welcome if Gen. Morgan had captured us – to go home and not fight against the South anymore, and so we went on and finally got to Cincinnati footsore and weary.
“Here we tried to get a boat home, but having no money, found no room. A long walk stared us in the face, but I couldn’t see it. Coming to the steamer, C. B. Levi, with steamers up for Gallipolis, I went aboard and found that Capt. Sam Hempstead was Captain. I told him our situation, and he took my hand, shook it kindly, and said, “bring up the boys, and we will do the best we can for them.”
So I brought up the boys and Capt. Hempstead gave us all staterooms, saying if anybody had to sleep on the cots, it would be the other passengers. When supper was ready, we found places reserved for us at the table, for the boat was full of passengers; and the Captain said, “Give these boys all they want, for they have been at the front.” We got it and good beds where we slept soundly and dreamed of home.
“At Portsmouth, John Campbell came aboard and was soon engaged in talking to the boys. When he found our fare was not paid, he walked up to the clerk’s desk and paid the bill in full. That’s the loyal and generous man John Campbell is.
“Our arrival at home surprised our friends, but after our happy surprise was over, we were ordered to report at Camp Chase. While thinking of the girls we left behind us, Elijah Thornton bantered me to go home and marry the girls we left behind, and I took the dare, and we made sure of our girls. When we returned to Camp Chase, we were ordered to the front again, and we got there just in time for Stone River.
“Three of that party have gone to join the great army above – Wakefield, Gould, and Arnett – but the remainder of us are still here to talk over those exciting times we passed through, especially the narrow escape at Lexington.”
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