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Two unidentified soldiers in Union captain's uniform and lieutenant's uniform, holding foot officers' swords, wearing frock coats, over-the-shoulder belt for sword attachment, and red sashes.
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The funeral procession for U.S. President Abraham Lincoln slowly moves down Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. on April 19, 1865, five days after he was shot by Confederate sympathizer John Wilkes Booth and ten days after the Confederate surrender at Appomattox Court House, Virginia effectively ended the war.
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The Battle of Chickamauga was the most profound Union defeat of the Civil War and had the second-highest number of casualties after the Battle of Gettysburg. Jacob Miller was thought to be one of them and was left lying on the battlefield by his unit, a sacrifice to the cause.
On September 19, 1863, Private Jacob C. Miller of Company G, 113th Illinois Infantry was struck in the forehead, directly between the eyes by a musket ball while holding the line on Brock Field. The rest of his company had to retreat from their position near the Confederate line and left Miller lying on the ground, bleeding from his head, sure that he had already met his maker. He remembered hearing his Captain say,
According to an account written by Miller, he stated that hours later he awoke and fear of becoming a Confederate prisoner forced him to get up and try to make his way back to his side. He felt his wound and realized that his left eye was out of place and as he tried to move it back into position, he had to first move the crushed bone back together. He bandaged it with a bandana. His right eye was swollen shut. Miller used his gun to help him rise to his feet. He had to use his fingers to pry his eye open to get a look at the area around him. His head and face were covered in blood, so much that his Captain didn’t even recognize him when he caught up with his unit.
Medical personnel in triage sorted the wounded into those with minimal injuries, those who needed immediate medical attention, and those who were wounded to a point that could no longer be saved. Those who were mortally wounded were made as comfortable as possible until their death. Miller was carried to the hospital tent via stretcher and laid on an operating table. A nurse gave him water and laid a wet towel over his wound. The surgeons examined him and determined that surgery would be a waste of time and only cause him more pain. They expected him to die very soon.
The next day, a list was made of the soldiers too injured to be moved. They would be left at the site and risked being taken prisoner by the Confederates. Miller was determined that this would not be his fate. He had the nurse fill his canteen with water and he snuck out of the tent, making his way along the road, traveling away from the sounds of cannons and muskets.
At one point, he traveled off of the roadway and slammed his head against a low hanging tree limb. It knocked him onto the ground and he laid there, resting, and trying to get his bearings. Shortly after, a line of ambulances traveled down the roadway. The drivers would slow to see if he was alive, but kept going. Finally, one stopped. As he rejoiced in the safety of the ambulance, Miller blacked out.
On September 21st, Miller awoke to find himself in a building with hundreds of other injured soldiers in Chattanooga, TN. Miller sat up and wet his head with the water from his canteen. Some nearby soldiers stared at him in amazement. They came over and told him how he was left for dead in Chickamauga as they were sure that he had already succumbed to his wound.
On the 22nd, Miller finally had his wounds washed and bandaged by a doctor. He and some comrades loaded up in a mule wagon to head to the train bound for Nashville, TN. After a while of riding in the wagon, he had to get off as the jostling of the wagon caused so much pain in his head that he couldn’t stand it. It took them four days to get to the train station, and Miller’s right eye had opened, so he was actually able to see to get around.
Arriving in Nashville, Miller was given medical attention and later transferred to Louisville, KY, and then to New Albany, Indiana. In every hospital, surgeons refused to operate on Miller’s head, despite his pleas, for fears of killing him.
As Miller had been initially reported as dead by his Captain, his name was printed on the paper as being among the deceased. It was only two months later that his family finally received word that he was actually alive.
Miller received a furlough and returned home. He could not work due to his injury, but he received a monthly pension from the government for his service. He married and had a son.
Miller was awarded the Medal of Honor for his gallantry in the charge of the “volunteer storming party” in Vicksburg, MS, in May of 1863.
He was able to find two doctors to operate on his wound, who removed the musket ball, or so they thought. 17 years after Miller was shot in the forehead, buckshot fell out of his wound and 31 years after, two more pieces of lead fell out.
Miller stated in his account,
“Some ask how it is I can describe so minutely my getting wounded and getting off the battlefield after so many years. My answer is I have an everyday reminder of it in my wound & constant pain in the head, never free of it while not asleep. The whole scene is imprinted on my brain as with a steel engraving.”
Private Jacob C. Miller lived an astonishing 54 years with an open wound in his head. The wound never healed, but luckily did not penetrate his skull, exposing or damaging his brain. There are noted occasions where his injury is blamed for inducing a stupor that could sometimes last weeks when he developed a cold, which increased the amount of pressure on his brain. He also suffered from bouts of delirium over the years. He died on January 1, 1917, at the age of 88 in Omaha, Nebraska.
https://historyofyesterday.com/the-...vived-being-shot-in-the-forehead-4787200f16bb
On September 19, 1863, Private Jacob C. Miller of Company G, 113th Illinois Infantry was struck in the forehead, directly between the eyes by a musket ball while holding the line on Brock Field. The rest of his company had to retreat from their position near the Confederate line and left Miller lying on the ground, bleeding from his head, sure that he had already met his maker. He remembered hearing his Captain say,
According to an account written by Miller, he stated that hours later he awoke and fear of becoming a Confederate prisoner forced him to get up and try to make his way back to his side. He felt his wound and realized that his left eye was out of place and as he tried to move it back into position, he had to first move the crushed bone back together. He bandaged it with a bandana. His right eye was swollen shut. Miller used his gun to help him rise to his feet. He had to use his fingers to pry his eye open to get a look at the area around him. His head and face were covered in blood, so much that his Captain didn’t even recognize him when he caught up with his unit.
Medical personnel in triage sorted the wounded into those with minimal injuries, those who needed immediate medical attention, and those who were wounded to a point that could no longer be saved. Those who were mortally wounded were made as comfortable as possible until their death. Miller was carried to the hospital tent via stretcher and laid on an operating table. A nurse gave him water and laid a wet towel over his wound. The surgeons examined him and determined that surgery would be a waste of time and only cause him more pain. They expected him to die very soon.
The next day, a list was made of the soldiers too injured to be moved. They would be left at the site and risked being taken prisoner by the Confederates. Miller was determined that this would not be his fate. He had the nurse fill his canteen with water and he snuck out of the tent, making his way along the road, traveling away from the sounds of cannons and muskets.
At one point, he traveled off of the roadway and slammed his head against a low hanging tree limb. It knocked him onto the ground and he laid there, resting, and trying to get his bearings. Shortly after, a line of ambulances traveled down the roadway. The drivers would slow to see if he was alive, but kept going. Finally, one stopped. As he rejoiced in the safety of the ambulance, Miller blacked out.
On September 21st, Miller awoke to find himself in a building with hundreds of other injured soldiers in Chattanooga, TN. Miller sat up and wet his head with the water from his canteen. Some nearby soldiers stared at him in amazement. They came over and told him how he was left for dead in Chickamauga as they were sure that he had already succumbed to his wound.
On the 22nd, Miller finally had his wounds washed and bandaged by a doctor. He and some comrades loaded up in a mule wagon to head to the train bound for Nashville, TN. After a while of riding in the wagon, he had to get off as the jostling of the wagon caused so much pain in his head that he couldn’t stand it. It took them four days to get to the train station, and Miller’s right eye had opened, so he was actually able to see to get around.
Arriving in Nashville, Miller was given medical attention and later transferred to Louisville, KY, and then to New Albany, Indiana. In every hospital, surgeons refused to operate on Miller’s head, despite his pleas, for fears of killing him.
As Miller had been initially reported as dead by his Captain, his name was printed on the paper as being among the deceased. It was only two months later that his family finally received word that he was actually alive.
Miller received a furlough and returned home. He could not work due to his injury, but he received a monthly pension from the government for his service. He married and had a son.
Miller was awarded the Medal of Honor for his gallantry in the charge of the “volunteer storming party” in Vicksburg, MS, in May of 1863.
He was able to find two doctors to operate on his wound, who removed the musket ball, or so they thought. 17 years after Miller was shot in the forehead, buckshot fell out of his wound and 31 years after, two more pieces of lead fell out.
Miller stated in his account,
“Some ask how it is I can describe so minutely my getting wounded and getting off the battlefield after so many years. My answer is I have an everyday reminder of it in my wound & constant pain in the head, never free of it while not asleep. The whole scene is imprinted on my brain as with a steel engraving.”
Private Jacob C. Miller lived an astonishing 54 years with an open wound in his head. The wound never healed, but luckily did not penetrate his skull, exposing or damaging his brain. There are noted occasions where his injury is blamed for inducing a stupor that could sometimes last weeks when he developed a cold, which increased the amount of pressure on his brain. He also suffered from bouts of delirium over the years. He died on January 1, 1917, at the age of 88 in Omaha, Nebraska.
https://historyofyesterday.com/the-...vived-being-shot-in-the-forehead-4787200f16bb
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Gustav Albert Schurmann in service, American Civil War era
Gustav Albert Schurmann was born in 1849 in Westphalia, Prussia. The following year his father, a talented musician, took his family and fled revolutionary Europe, emigrating to the United States and settling in New York City. As Gustav grew up, his father taught him how to play a variety of musical instruments.
After the Confederates fired upon Fort Sumter in 1861, war fever engulfed the country. That spring, 11-year-old Gustav was working the streets of New York City as a shoeshine boy, and like thousands who swarmed the recruiting stations eager to enlist, the young boy was swept up in the excitement and sought to join any regiment that would take him as a drummer boy. His father had volunteered as a musician in the 40th New York Volunteer Infantry, later known as “The Mozart Regiment” because of the high percentage of musicians in its ranks, so young Gustav sought to join that regiment as well.
Rejected at first because of his age and small size, Gustav’s father asked the 40th New York’s colonel to at least hear the boy’s drumming. The lad being a musical prodigy who took after his father, the demonstration convinced the regiment’s commander to change his mind and add Gustav to the unit’s muster.
Gustav’s regiment served in the Peninsula Campaign, during which the boy was loaned out to General Kearney for a day as an orderly during a grand review. Impressed by the lad, the general ordered him to gather his gear from his regiment, and assigned him to his headquarters staff as orderly and principal bugler.
General Kearney was killed in August of 1862, and his replacement, General Birney, retained Gustav as orderly and bugler. After the Battle of Antietam, the boy was assigned to General Stoneman’s III Corps staff, and promoted to Corps bugler.
After the Battle of Fredericksburg, Gustav was appointed to the staff of General Sickles, who promoted the then 14-year-old to sergeant as a reward for gallantry displayed in combat.
During a grand review of the Army of the Potomac in April of 1863, Gustav caught president Lincoln’s eye, as well as the eye of the president’s youngest son, Tad. The two became fast friends, and Gustav was invited to the White House. Granted an extended furlough, young Gustav spent a happy period with Tad Lincoln and the rest of the president’s family.
During the Battle of Chancellorsville, Gustav again displayed conspicuous courage, for which he was awarded a medal. Soon thereafter, at the Battle of Gettysburg, the lad again exhibit his bravery and coolness under fire when General Sickles’ leg was shattered by a cannonball. Applying a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding, young Gustav helped save the general’s life, and went back with him to the hospital, and thence to Washington. There, president Lincoln figured the boy had already used up to too many of his lives, and ended his Civil War service, ordering him back home to attend school in preparation for West Point in a few years.
During Gustav’s Civil War career, he served as a bugler for five different generals, saw plenty of action, was recognized for his courage and awarded medals, befriended the president’s youngest son and was guested at the White House. All in all, a generous dollop of the adventure and excitement the lad had sought when he enlisted.
Following his discharge, Gustav returned to New York City. Lincoln’s assassination ended his West Point prospects, so he went on with his life. He settled in NYC, worked for the city in various departments, married, and raised a family. He died in 1905, at the age of 56.
Gustav Albert Schurmann was born in 1849 in Westphalia, Prussia. The following year his father, a talented musician, took his family and fled revolutionary Europe, emigrating to the United States and settling in New York City. As Gustav grew up, his father taught him how to play a variety of musical instruments.
After the Confederates fired upon Fort Sumter in 1861, war fever engulfed the country. That spring, 11-year-old Gustav was working the streets of New York City as a shoeshine boy, and like thousands who swarmed the recruiting stations eager to enlist, the young boy was swept up in the excitement and sought to join any regiment that would take him as a drummer boy. His father had volunteered as a musician in the 40th New York Volunteer Infantry, later known as “The Mozart Regiment” because of the high percentage of musicians in its ranks, so young Gustav sought to join that regiment as well.
Rejected at first because of his age and small size, Gustav’s father asked the 40th New York’s colonel to at least hear the boy’s drumming. The lad being a musical prodigy who took after his father, the demonstration convinced the regiment’s commander to change his mind and add Gustav to the unit’s muster.
Gustav’s regiment served in the Peninsula Campaign, during which the boy was loaned out to General Kearney for a day as an orderly during a grand review. Impressed by the lad, the general ordered him to gather his gear from his regiment, and assigned him to his headquarters staff as orderly and principal bugler.
General Kearney was killed in August of 1862, and his replacement, General Birney, retained Gustav as orderly and bugler. After the Battle of Antietam, the boy was assigned to General Stoneman’s III Corps staff, and promoted to Corps bugler.
After the Battle of Fredericksburg, Gustav was appointed to the staff of General Sickles, who promoted the then 14-year-old to sergeant as a reward for gallantry displayed in combat.
During a grand review of the Army of the Potomac in April of 1863, Gustav caught president Lincoln’s eye, as well as the eye of the president’s youngest son, Tad. The two became fast friends, and Gustav was invited to the White House. Granted an extended furlough, young Gustav spent a happy period with Tad Lincoln and the rest of the president’s family.
During the Battle of Chancellorsville, Gustav again displayed conspicuous courage, for which he was awarded a medal. Soon thereafter, at the Battle of Gettysburg, the lad again exhibit his bravery and coolness under fire when General Sickles’ leg was shattered by a cannonball. Applying a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding, young Gustav helped save the general’s life, and went back with him to the hospital, and thence to Washington. There, president Lincoln figured the boy had already used up to too many of his lives, and ended his Civil War service, ordering him back home to attend school in preparation for West Point in a few years.
During Gustav’s Civil War career, he served as a bugler for five different generals, saw plenty of action, was recognized for his courage and awarded medals, befriended the president’s youngest son and was guested at the White House. All in all, a generous dollop of the adventure and excitement the lad had sought when he enlisted.
Following his discharge, Gustav returned to New York City. Lincoln’s assassination ended his West Point prospects, so he went on with his life. He settled in NYC, worked for the city in various departments, married, and raised a family. He died in 1905, at the age of 56.
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Brilliant photos - and terrible times. Denmark/Germany had a war at the same time (dont ask who won) - photos, equipment and people look very similar to those shown here.
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Apparently, the Danish king was presented with the possibility of buying the GATLING machine-gun around this time. When demonstrated, the king said something like" You must be mad! This device would ruin my kingdom in five minutes!"
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The full twenty-three member band of the 3rd New Hampshire Infantry Regiment posed in front of tents with their instruments. Members include Billy Seabrook, a former slave hired as drum carrier and servant, and Nathan M. Gove, an eleven year old drummer boy. The image was taken by Henry P. Moore between 1862 and 1863 in Hilton Head, SC.
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Confederate Army soldiers marching on their way to Antietam Creek, heading south on N Market Street, Frederick, Maryland, (CSA) the Confederate States of America, during the American Civil War, on September 10th, 1862.
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