Ozaukee County's
War History
by Daniel E. McGinley

as extracted from THE PORT WASHINGTON STAR
January 23, 1897



Heroes of '61
Chapter 4

The Grafton Boys

Of the members of the Ozaukee Rifles from Grafton and Port Washington, I am unable to write as familiarly as I have done of the Waubeka and Saukville squads, as I was not so well acquainted with them and have been unable to collect the desired data regarding their lives.

The town of Grafton was represented in the Rifles by a gallant squad of twenty-seven sturdy soldiers, a large majority of them hailing from Port Ulao and vicinity. Heading the list we find the names of Richard P. and John L. Derrickson, father and son, both natives of Pennsylvania and both fairly well educated. The father was forty-five and John nineteen at the time of their enlistment and both were above the medium size. I have told in previous chapters of how the father became the first lieutenant and John the orderly sergeant of the company; of how John, having been wounded at Shiloh, was discharged on account of the wound, re-enlisted in the 35th Wisconsin, served until April, 1866, and died some years after the war. I have also alluded to how Lieut. Derrickson misused his men at the time of the consolidation of the companies of the regiment, but as he has been dead a number of years it is well to let the matter pass.

Ephriam, William and George D. Cooper, the first two brothers, and the last two father and son, were natives of New York state, and fine specimens of American manhood. Their ages were thirty-eight, forty-five and seventeen respectively, and the brothers were both married men. All were brave, sterling soldiers, and all gave their lives for their country. Ephriam had said before leaving home that he never would turn his back to the foe in battle and he heroically kept his word, dying on the first line at Shiloh. William was one of the victims of the siege of Corinth, dying June 13, 1862, and George fell a victim to the fever epidemic at Lake Providence, La., July 25, 1863.

Two more of the Grafton squad were killed on that fatal morning at Shiloh, William Clark and Thomas Manning, both exemplary citizens and valiant soldiers. Wm. Clark was born in New York state in 1838, and was a tall, broad-shouldered, genial fellow. He, like Ephriam Cooper, had declared that the rebels would never force him to show his back to them, and he too heroically kept his promise and died fighting for the old flag. Thomas Manning was a fine looking portly Englishman of forty-five years, and a pleasant, courteous gentleman. He died fighting bravely for his adopted country, and his name belongs on the roll of American patriots. He too left a widow.

Another hero of the Grafton squad was John Murphy, who poured out his life's blood at Shiloh, and who, mortally wounded and unable to walk or stand continued to load and fire his gun; and as the regiment fell back from one position to another, crawled back on his hands and knees, dragging his gun with him and continuing the fight at the next position, although literally covered with his own blood, as described in a former chapter. This young hero was a native of that birth-place of many heroes, Ohio, was twenty-two years of age and unmarried. Throughout that war, so replete with deeds of heroism and endurance, I doubt if many incidents can be found to surpass the heroism of John Murphy on Shiloh's crimson field.

The only natives of Maine in the Rifles were two Grafton boys, the brothers Robert A. and William W. Coleman, the former married, and each 5 ft. 11 in. in height. Robert was twenty-four and William eighteen, and both were brave good soldiers. Both participated in the battle of Shiloh, siege and battle of Corinth, battle of Iuka, and in all campaigns in which the regiment took part, and both escaped the bullets of the foe until the Atlanta campaign. Robert was a tent-mate of the writer at Vicksburg, and used to then wear a breast strap or cartridge-box ěslingî which he had picked up on the battlefield of Corinth and which had a bullet hole through it directly over the wearer's heart. When asked why he wore the grim relic, Robert would answer that if he ever received a fatal wound in battle he wanted the bullet to strike him exactly in that spot. When the regiment went home on veteran furlough it turned over its old rifles and accoutrements, and drew new ones when it returned to the front. In this way Robert lost his relic, but he was granted his wish. In the assault on the rebel's position on Bald Hill, near Atlanta, Ga., July 21, 1864, while men fell like grass before the scythe, Robert was struck by a minie in the exact spot he had indicated when stating his wish, and throwing up his gun and shouting: ěHurrah for the Stars and Stripes,î fell dead. Brave, jovial, black-eyed ěBob,î I can now see him as plainly as he appeared to me on that fatal morning before the assault, full of life and merriment. Few better soldiers died that day than Robert Coleman. William was wounded at Lovejoy Station the following September, and went home with a crippled hand. He is now dying of consumption in California, the result of exposure in the army. Of the remaining members of the Grafton squad, I have no more to tell than has been given in previous chapters.

Port Washington sent twenty-nine of her citizens to the front in the Rifles, and right ably did they represent her. At the head of the list is Capt. G. C. Williams, of whom the writer does not wish to say more than he has written in former papers. He is long dead, and let him rest. Two of the sergeants, Milo M. Whedon and Lorenzo D. Osgood, hailed from ěPort.î Whedon was born in Vermont in 1821, came west in the early 40ís and was one of Port W.ís earliest merchants. He was quite well to do in the early 50ís but met reverses and his property dwindled away until he had little left when he enlisted. He was not a success as a soldier, being too ambitious for unearned promotion, and when the Rifles was consolidated with Company G, he secured a detail on detached services at some headquarters, and never returned to the regiment, being mustered out Nov. 8, 1864. He did not return to the county, and died in the Soldiersí Home, Washington, D.C. in 1887. Lorenzo D. Osgood was a native of New York state, a married man of twenty-nine years of age. He was a tall, patriotic, brave man, but after the battle of Shiloh the prevailing sickness took such a firm hold on him that he was discharged at a date unrecorded, (probably in June, 1862) as incurable, and although he lived many years after the war he never recovered from that disease, which eventually killed him. I have been unable to gather further information regarding this hero, who sleeps in a cemetery near Port Washington, and would feel grateful to any one who would furnish me with more of his history.

A pathetic incident of that awful first morning at the battle of Shiloh, was the deaths of William A. and Stoel H. Tousley, father and son, aged forty-one and eighteen respectively, who were killed at about the same time, in the terrible struggle for the possession of the regiment's camp. All that I have been able to learn of them is that they were natives of New York state, and laborers. Whether they left any relatives at Port Washington or elsewhere I have been unable to learn. But they died as true patriots and heroes, and their names and services should not be forgotten.

An interesting, intelligent family group was the Wildman family, Thomas, Thomas E. and Samuel H., father and sons respectively, all natives of Ireland. They were all stalwart, patriotic men, but unfortunately two of them soon succumbed to the exposures and hardships of camp life, and never lived to see Dixie. They were living comfortably and happily on a farm near Port Washington when the war began, and were uncompromising Unionists. The oldest son, Thomas E., enlisted in the rifles Sept. 30, and Samuel on Nov. 23, 1862. Their ages were twenty-five and twenty-one years respectively. A month or two after the company reached Camp Randall it was joined by the father, a man far past the meridian of life whose change of a comfortable home for a canvas tent in the snow, was too much for his constitution, and in a few weeks he returned home to the fond wife and mother in his coffin. Two or three weeks later Samuel surrendered to the dread reaper, and his body followed his father's to the shores of Lake Michigan, within sight of which they sleep side by side under the starry folds of the flag of their adopted country, for the preservation of which they gave their lives. Thomas E. made an excellent soldier, was wounded at Shiloh, returned to the regiment and participated in all the battles and campaigns in which it was engaged, returned home after the war, and a year or two later moved to Minnesota, where he married and settled upon a farm. But it was not many years before the effects of the exposures and hardships of his army life had their effect, and he went to join his father, brother and comrades in the eternal camp in the unknown regions beyond the grave.

A big, noisy, red-faced son of Germany was Nicholas Colling of Port Washington, the butt of numberless jokes, practical and otherwise, during his term of service. Nic. Colling - ěFlanner Month Nic,î as the boys nicknamed him - was born in Prussia in 1825 was a character in more ways than one, and possessed more the volatile Irish characteristics than those of the phlegmatic Teuton. He was a noted fabricator, a lover of good living and of a jovial company, was generous and kind hearted to a fault, willing always to share his last crust, and often showed more heroism in serving his friends than he ever exhibited upon the field of battle. He was a great coward when he heard the bullets zipping around his ears for the first time at Shiloh, and ran like a deer for the river, but in time he overcame that failing, although it was a hard struggle to do so. The writer well remembers seeing him, while the regiment stood in line awaiting the signal to advance to the assault at Dennesaw Mt., take his money and small keepsakes from his pocket and hand them to the lieutenant in his rear, with long verbal instructions as to their disposal, and a loving message for his loved ones at home, provided he was killed in the action. His trembling, pathetic tone of voice, and his whole demeanor plainly showed how badly he was scared; but having ěmade his will,î as the boys termed it, he resumed his place in the ranks and went into the fight that day and on many other occasions before the war ended. One thing at which Nic became very proficient was the foraging for something to sustain the ěinnerman,î and it became such a fixed habit that it clung to him after his return to the peaceful shades of Port Washington, and he was accused of foraging chickens, etc., from his neighborsí premises. But he finally ěput his foot in itî when one dark night he carried home a bee hive from a neighbor's premises honey, bees and all. That was too much for the honest denizens of our county seat, and Nic ěserved his timeî behind the bars. While the regiment was at Vicksburg, Miss., Nic. had a tumor cut from his back by the surgeons, and the writer surprised him one day many years after the war, exhibiting the wound made by the removal of the tumor, as ěthe place where a grape-shot had passed through his body!î Poor Nic was found dead in bed one morning in January, 1880, and his funeral was one of the largest ever held in Port Washington for many years, the fire department of which he had been an active member, and a large number of his neighbors turning out to honor his memory.

Of the remaining members of the Rifles I have nothing further to write than has been written in former chapters in which I have tried to tell of their heroism and valuable services. If they or any of their friends feel slighted at their not being given a place in the ëpersonal sketches,î they must not blame the writer, who has spent much time and labor in fruitlessly searching for further information regarding their services and lives. In writing the foregoing history of the Ozaukee Rifles, and the personal sketches of some of its members, I have endeavored to tell the truth, and if historical inaccuracies have crept in it is through my ignorance of the facts. I am aware that both history and sketches could be easily made much better, but I have done my best under the circumstances, and give them to the public in the hope of doing justice to the memory of the brave men whose heroic deeds they chronicle, and of interesting the young people of today in the past history of their county and state.

Next week a sketch of Co. ěHî 24th Wisconsin will begin in these columns.