--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - J. H. Ward collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 5 number: 8 published: 1902-06 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'J. H. Ward, "Forty Years Ago—Memories for Decoration Day," *Improvement Era* 5, no. 8 (June 1902): 590–593.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0508unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0508unse start_page: 590 end_page: 593 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1902-06) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0508unse publication_year: 1902 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1902, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Forty Years Ago—Memories for Decoration Day FORTY YEARS AGO SOME PASSING MEMORIES FOR DECORATION DAY. BY J. H. WARD, A UNION SOLDIER, AND EDITOR SALT LAKE CITY BEOBACHTER." Forty years ago the world had not heard of Decoration Day. Perhaps it would never have been known, had it not been for the sympathetic heart of woman. Several years after the long and bloody strifeknown as the Civil War had ceased, some southern women, in grateful memory of their departed strewed one beauti- ful May day heroes, their graves with flowers; and, feeling that per- haps their northern sisters would gladly perform a similar service on the graves of northern heroes, now sleeping in southern graves, if they had the opportunity, these noble southern women strewed flowers also on the graves of Union soldiers. This act awoke a chord of sympathy throughout the land, and Decoration Day with its sad yet pleasant memories is the result. The hard fighting of the war began in 1862. At Fort Donel- son, at Shiloh, on the Virginia Peninsula, and in the Shenandoah Valley, in the early part of that year, great armies wrestled in ter- rible combat. Only a few of the actors of that period survive to greet the fortieth Anniversary of those great battles. Among the few survivors of that time may be mentioned the name of Gen. Nelson A. Miles. It was a favorite saying of Napoleon, in the days of his greatness, that he dated his nobility from the bloody con- flict on the bridge of Areola. So too Gen. Miles' fame dated from Fair Oaks, Va., in 1862. Gen. George B. McClellan, or Little Mac, as the soldiers called FORTY YEARS AGO. 591 him, was the ideal war-leader of forty years ago. He was young, chivalric and enthusiastic. His men believed in him; and, in the spring of 1862, he led the Union armies to the very gates of Rich- mond. Rut the leadership of Gen. Robert E. Lee, the famous Confederate general, and his enthusiastic southerners, brought about reverses that held the Army of Virginia in check for nearly three years. It was also at Fair Oaks that Gen. Joseph Hooker earned his sobriquet of ''Fighting Joe," and Gen. Kearney, afterwards so well known as an Indian fighter, first distinguished themselves. Kear- ney's regiment was late in getting upon the field, and when he asked Gen. Howard what point he should attack, Gen. Howard re- plied, "Anywhere, my dear Colonel, there is lovely fighting all along the line." While these things were going on to the east of the Allegha- nies, other important events were transpiring in the west. The battle of Mill Spring, Ky., had been fought, in January, 1862, and the forces from Ohio, Illinois and Indiana were preparing to meas- ure strength and skill with the Confederates from Kentucky and Tennessee, at the battle of Fort Donelson. The writer of this article, then a youth of nearly nineteen years, was often employed in bearing dispatches from one part of the vast Union camp to an- other. One day, as he dismounted at the headquarters of General Buel, he perceived Buel in earnest conversation with another officer. The messenger stepped forward, doffed his hat, and gave the mes- sage to General Buel. The other officer was Colonel afterwards General Ulysses S. Grant, who at that time had not yet distin- guished himself. Grant fixed his eyes upon the youth, and, as his penetrating look met the eyes of the boy, he asked, "What is your name?" at the same time placing his hand upon the boy's shoulder. The youth replied, "Harvey Ward." Grant added, "All right, Harvey, never be shot in the back." It was a trivial circumstance. Years passed. The youth became a man, and the cares of middle age fell upon his shoulders; sometimes formidable foes rose up be- fore him, but the memory of those words kept ringing in his ears, "Never be shot in the back." Yes; never flee before an enemy; never be shot in the back. Soon after this, came the battle of Fort Donelson, and then, 592 IMPROVEMENT ERA. as if the strength of both armies were exhausted, no stirring events transpired for several weeks. Then came the battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, a little town on the bank of the Tennessee river. The battle really commenced on April 5, became general on the morning of April 6, and closed by a signal victory for the Union forces on April 7. The regiment to which the writer belonged was at that time stationed at Iuka, Miss., a little railroad station about forty miles distant from Shiloh. The news came on the sixth of April that a battle was raging, and orders that the soldiers at Iuka should proceed immediately to Shiloh. The march com- menced at three o'clock that afternoon. The soil of that country is mostly yellow sand, covered here and there with stunted pines. Scarcely fifteen miles of the journey had been traversed before the writer's feet were so sore that walking was very painful. What was to be done? To lag behind meant almost certain death. In this emergency, a comrade wrapped with paper the feet of the writer, and then, after his socks and shoes had been again put on, he poured into his shoes about a half pint of brandy. For a few minutes the pain was severe, but soon the soreness was all gone, and he completed, with his regiment, the march of forty miles, ar- riving at Shiloh about eight o'clock the next morning, having made the journey in seventeen hours. At that time, Grant and the Unionists had the worst of the battle. They were down in the valley between the river and the hills; while the Confederates rained down upon them a furious storm of shot and shell. Grant, cigar in mouth, and mounted on his bobtailed, grey horse, was riding back and forth trving to encourage his men. The hills and pines pre- vented the Unionists from seeing our approach. Grant would not acknowledge defeat, but it was noticed that he no longer smoked the cigar, he simply chewed it, and rode desperately into the thick- est of the fight. The Confederates saw our approach, and thought to play a game of bluff. A deafening yell of victory rose from their lines. But Grant was unterrified. A few moments later, the Iuka boys opened fire. The Confederates seeing that their game of bluff did not succeed, scattered in all directions; some surren- dered, others made good their escape. A few days later occurred the battle of Corinth. The Con- federates had thrown up earth-works around the town. In cap- FORTY YEARS AGO. 593 turing one of these earth-works, three flag-bearers were shot down. There was, at that time, a young soldier in the Twenty-third In- diana Volunteer Infantry named John Morgan. At that time he was not over sixteen years old, and small in stature, and his com- rades declared he would never have succeeded in getting into the army if he had not had high heels to his shoes. Well, seeing the standard bearers fall was too much for the enthusiastic John. He seized the fallen flag, jumped over the breast- works, and, with a deafening yell, his comrades followed. The breast-works were taken! It is needless to further describe John Morgan. He was well known as the intrepid missionary leader in the Southern states during many years. He now rests in peace, and the old and tat- tered flag which he that day carried is still to be seen in the Museum at Salt Lake City. Many of the youth of Zion remember him today! ,.:~ ,.'^ But it was not all tragedy. There was also comedy in the happenings of those days. A few lines from one of the popular songs of the time may not be out of place Say, darkies, have you seen my Massa With a moustache on his face, Going down de road sometime this mornin', Like he's goin' to leave the place? Chorus — So the darkies say, ha, ha, And the Missus says, ho, ho, It must be now the kingdom's commin' And the year of jubilee. He saw the smoke 'way up the river Where the Linkum gunboats lay. He took his hat and left mighty sudden, And I 'spect he's run away. He's five feet one way, six feet tother, And he weighs three hundred pound; His coat's so big, he couldn't pay the tailor, And it won't go half way round. Forty years have passed away since then. The Mississippi