Ozaukee County's
War History
by Daniel E. McGinley

as extracted from THE PORT WASHINGTON STAR
January 30, 1897



Co. H, 24th Wisconsin
Chapter 1

In the early part of August, 1862, Gustavus Goldsmith, a former Port Washington boy, who having been a resident of Detroit, Mich., when the war began, had enlisted in one of Michigan's three months regiments, had been wounded in the first battle of Bull Run, and having recovered from the wound came to Port Washington and opened a recruiting office in the old "Union House." Heading his list was the name of a Milwaukee friend, Nathan E. Neustadtl, who had agreed to go as a member of his company, provided more recruits could be enlisted at Port Washington.

It was the second year of the war. The repulse at Bull Run, and the disasters west of the Mississippi and on the Virginia peninsula had been offset by the victories in western Virginia and the grand successes of Grant at Ft. Donelson and Shiloh, but the strength of the rebellion was growing apace, and the outlook for the Union armies was gloomy enough. Survivors of a series of sanguinary battles on the Virginia peninsula, which showed McClellan's inefficiency as a commander, and the great battle of Shiloh, where a great victory was snatched from defeat and the northern soldier clearly proved his ability to cope with his boastful, fire-eating southern brother, came back to Ozaukee county, and the story of the suffering, endurance and heroic valor of the boys who had gone to the front from the county, rekindled the slumbering fires of patriotism in many a breast and made the few loyal men and boys that were left eager to join their old neighbors in the struggle for National unity and universal freedom.

In Port Washington, as elsewhere in the loyal states, nearly every young man and boy that had any patriotism in his makeup, and physically able, were eager to go to the front in answer to President Lincoln's call for volunteers that summer. War meetings were held where men who claimed that age or physical disabilities barred them from going to the war, waxed eloquent in their fiery denunciations of treason and secession, and in giving their views of the duty of every able-bodied citizen, advising all such to lose no time in marching down to Dixie, there to throttle armed treason, dying if need be for Freedom and her flag. And, oh! how they dilated upon the glories of such a death upon the field of battle, and how the names such fortunate (?) individuals would be ever enrolled in the annals of fame, enshrined in the hearts of their countrymen and revered by lovers of liberty in all climes and ages! Such is human nature. But the loyal men and boys were ready to go, and between August 9th and 15th, thirty-four young patriots, all unmarried, enrolled their names on Goldsmith's list. The following is a list of the names of those heroes:

Gustavus Goldsmith, John N. Kiefer, Edward R. Blake, Wm. Becker, Henry Bichler, Charles Bisch, William Bold, Michael Daily, John Eder, Frank Ellenbecker, Franklin Hoyt, Mathias Jacquinet, Wm. H. Kaehler, Charles Klein, John B. Klopp, Leopold Meyer, Nicholas Oswold, Erastus C. Parr, Alanson C. Powers, Charles J. Powers, Leonhard Ruppelt, John P. Sands, John State, Abner P. Stone, Daniel Sullivan, Allen A. Turner and John B. Warling, of Port Washington.

Oliver Sabisch and John Sheehan, of Saukville.

Nicholas Dommes, Peter Schlimm and Joseph Weiskopf, of Belgium.

Horace F. Marsh, of Grafton.

Andrew Wachtman, of Cedarburg.

In the third week in August, the squad left Port Washington by the steamer "Sea Bird," its destination being Camp Sigel, at Milwaukee. Escorted by a brass band and a large number of relatives and friends, the squad marched from the hotel to the pier where the steamer was waiting, the music of the band mingling with the sobs of the mothers, sisters and sweethearts of the gallant volunteers who had come to bid their loved ones farewell, many for the last time on earth. The goodbyes having been said, the boys boarded the steamer amid the blessings, prayers and sobs of their friends, and were soon steaming out upon the lake, the crowd on the pier waving them goodbyes as long as they could be seen, while the sad strains of "The Girl I Left Behind Me" was wafted across the water from the band. In writing of that occasion, one of the survivors naively remarks: ìThere were only four boys left in Port Washington that were able to go to the war, two of whom were killed by accidents before the war was over.î Death lurked in the rear also, it seems.

Reaching Milwaukee, the squad marched to Camp Sigel, a beautiful encampment on the bluff north of the city (now a part of it), and overlooking grand old Lake Michigan, whose cool breezes were often welcome to the boys during the hot August and September days they spent there. Here the Ozaukee boys were joined by two squads which had been recruited in Milwaukee, one by Henry W. Gunnison, a survivor of the Lady Elgin disaster, and the other by Courtland P. Larkin. The three squads were formed into a company numbering 110 men, which was assigned to the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, then being organized in Camp Sigel as Company "H". Gunnison was commissioned captain, Goldsmith first lieutenant, Larkin second lieutenant. The sergeants of the company were J.G. Tannutt, Geo. Cook, Allen A. Turner, Allen Hatch and John B. Warling. The field officers of the regiment were Colonel Chas. H. Larrabee, Lieut. Col. E.L. Butrick, Major E. C. Hibbard, and Adjutant Arthur McArthur, Jr.

Rev. Francis Fusseder, a patriotic Catholic priest then stationed at Port Washington, said to the members of Company H from that place: "Boys, if you are all going to the war, I'll go too." He applied to Gov. Solomon for a commission as chaplain of the Twenty-fourth, received it, and when the regiment left the state for the front, Chaplain Fusseder marched proudly under its colors in the regulation uniform of blue. He served faithfully with the regiment in the field until July 28, 1863, when owing to bad health, he resigned and went home. But after being at home a year, and feeling much better in health, he again went to the front in July, 1864, this time as chaplain of the Seventeenth Wisconsin, which he found in the trenches in front of Atlanta, Ga., and with which he served until it was mustered out at the end of the war, participating in the siege of Atlanta, battles of Ezra Church, Jonesboro, and Lovejoy Station, the march to the sea, the march through the Carolinas, the march from Raleigh to Washington and the Grand Review in the latter place. After leaving the service, he returned to Port Washington, and later moved to some other parish. When in street dress, the white arrow badge of his old division in the 17th corps was his most valued and conspicuous ornament. He died a few years after the war, his death no doubt hastened by the exposure of his army life.

On the 21st of August, Company H was mustered into the service of Uncle Sam for ìthree years unless sooner discharged.î During their short stay in Camp Sigel, the members of the Twenty-fourth spent most of their time in drilling and otherwise learning some of the rudiments of a soldier's education. The non-commissioned officers were supplied with copies of ìHardee's Tactics,î and could be daily seen on the parade ground putting the ìawkward squadsî through the mazes of the drill.

On the 2nd and 3rd of September, the Ozaukee boys of Company H were greatly surprised by numerous and unexpected visitors from among their old neighbors and friends, and it was not long before camp and city were crowded with fugitives from Ozaukee and several other counties, who had fled there for protection from the Indians, it being the occasion of the famous "Indian Scare". It was surprising to note how much the Copperheads, who previously had experienced much difficulty in finding language disdainful, abusive or vile enough to express their opinions of them, now thought of the boys in blue. They were the first to fly to the protection of the ìLincoln Hirelingsî when danger was supposed to be near. The tales of arson, pillage and bloodshed told by the fugitives that came to the camp were enough to make the blood run cold in any one who believed them, but their stories were later proven to be the fruits of their terror stricken imaginations.

Having received uniforms, arms and accoutrements, the Twenty-fourth left Camp Sigel for the seat of war on September 5th, 1862, 1000 strong. Headed by the "Light Guard Band," of Milwaukee, its own brass band of twenty pieces, and a drum corps of about the same number, the regiment marched through a pouring rain and plenty of mud through the city to the railroad depot, where a crowd was in waiting to see it off. Loaded down, as new troops usually were, with overcoats, blankets, bulky knapsacks, etc., etc., the boys were nearly exhausted when they reached the depot, and with the perspiration running down their faces, their clothing saturated with water and spattered with mud, they looked as though soldiering was anything but a pleasant life. The Twenty-fourth having been largely recruited in that city was known as the "Milwaukee Regiment," and on the day of its departure, a large number of the people collected at the depot to bid the boys goodby.

Boarding the cars and waving their many friends a last adieu, the boys of the Twenty-fourth were presently rushing southward at the heels of an iron horse, and passing through Chicago that night sped onward through Illinois and Indiana to Jeffersonville on the Ohio opposite Louisville, Ky., where the regiment pitched its tents on the north bank of the river. Remaining here but two days, the regiment was loaded upon flat coal cars, and run up to Cincinnati, Ohio. The good people of that city were found in a sort of panic, a rumor having reached the city that a large army of rebels were marching toward the city through Kentucky, and were near at hand. Gen. Lew Wallace was on the opposite side of the river hurriedly collecting Union troops near Covington, Ky., to oppose the threatened invasion of the Buckeye state, and the Twenty-fourth was ordered to report to him.

The residents of Cincinnati were so pleased to see the big Wisconsin regiment that had come to protect them that they turned out and gave it a royal welcome. Tables laden with good things to eat were set in the streets through which the regiment marched, and hundreds of young ladies dressed in white acted as waiters. After the boys had eaten all they desired, the fair waiters took their haversacks and emptying them of the strong-smelling bacon and mouldy hardtack, refilled them with the best things from the table. The boys were of the opinion that those young ladies would make excellent commissary sergeants. That day, Sept. 11, the regiment crossed the river on a pontoon bridge that spanned the river between Covington and Cincinnati, and encamped three miles south of the former place. While it was crossing the bridge, a nice picture of the regiment was taken from the Kentucky bank which was later lithographed and sold to the members at a dollar each. While on the bridge, Capt. Gunnison is said to have remarked: "Here we cross the river 1,000 strong; and we haven't spades enough to bury the dead!"

In this campaign, the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin first met the Eighty-eighth Illinois. These two regiments were later assigned to the same brigade, and served together during the remainder of the war. A picket line was thrown around the camp, and within a month of their departure from home, our boys were "at the front" and beginning their war experiences in good earnest. Letters were written to loved ones at home, giving sketches of camp life and their travels so far, always showing the bright or ludicrous side of everything, and trying cheer up their friends at home. Here the regiment suffered its first loss by death, First Asst. Surgeon Chas. Mueller dying of disease. Surgeon Herman E. Hasse, of Milwaukee, served with the regiment from its organization to its musterout, and is highly spoken of by its survivors.

The rebel army which had so frightened the people of Cincinnati failed to "show up," and the Twenty-fourth and its new friend the 88th Illinois, were ordered to Louisville, whither they went by boat down the Ohio, reaching that place on the 20th of September. Here, in organizing an army to meet the rebel General Bragg, the 24th was brigaded with the 36th and 88th Ill., and 21st Mich. in the 37th brigade, Col. Greusel, 11th division, Gen. Phil. H. Sheridan, and 3rd corps, Gen. C. C. Gilbert. While in camp near Louisville, a painful and lamentable accident -- one of those "didn't-know-it-was-loaded" affairs -- happened in Company H. John Eder was cleaning his gun and not knowing that it was loaded, snapped a cap on it to clear the "vent," thus exploding the charge and sending the ball through the foot of Wm. Becker, of Port Washington, who sat about ten feet away. Becker was sent to the hospital and never returned to the company, being discharged March 26, 1863, a cripple from the effects of the wound. Poor Eder felt very badly over the result of his carelessness, but he was a good soldier and died heroically in the battle of Stone River.

Accompanying the army southward in pursuit of Bragg, the Twenty-fourth left Louisville on the 1st of October. It was a very warm day, and like all green troops, our boys were loaded down with extra clothing, etc., but they were not long on the road when they were forced to lighten their loads by throwing away everything that they could possibly spare. Each man had started with an extra red flannel shirt, and the roadside was soon ornamented with red flannel shirts. In the rear of the Twenty-fourth that day, marched the 36th Ill., its members short on underwear and they promptly picked and appropriated the wearing apparel thrown away by our Wisconsin boys.