Freemasons of New York State in the Civil War
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Root, Augustus I., (Col.) (killed in battle), Central City, 305 http://www.15thnewyorkcavalry.org/chapters12.htm http://www.bivouacbooks.com/bbv5i4s2.htm Augustus I. Root of Batavia, NY was commissioned Captain of Company K*, 12th New York Infantry in May of 1861. His regiment was engaged at Blackburn's Ford and was stationed in reserve during the Battle of 1st Bull Run. The regiment served throughout the Peninsula Campaign and Seven Days Battles before again being engaged at 2nd Bull Run where Root was seriously wounded. He was mustered out with the regiment on 17 May 1863 at Elmira, NY. Root returned to service as Major of the 15th New York Cavalry. Quickly promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, he served with his regiment in West Virginia and the Shenandoah Valley before rejoining the Army of the Potomac in the March of 1865. Lt. Col. Root was killed in battle at Appomattox, VA just hours prior to Lee's surrender. Included here are two accounts published in his hometown newspaper regarding the 1st and 2nd Battles of Bull Run. * Note: Captain Henry Alanson Barnum, was of Company I. He was later promoted to Major General and is also interred at Oakwood Cemetery, Section 12, one lot south of the plot of Central City Lodge No. 305, of which he was a Brother, on a knoll overlooking it. The Daily Republican Advocate Batavia NY - 27 Jul 1861
Mr. James M. Willett - My Dear Sir: - As we have been on the battle field since I wrote you last, and have been branded as cowards by the newspaper correspondents, I propose to give you a slight detail of the battle we had on the 18th, and leave it for you to judge whether the newspapers are right or not. The brigade the 12th is connected with left the Chain Bridge on the 16th, at 3 o'clock P.M., and marched to Vienna, a place about 7 miles from the bridge, and encamped for the night. We started again early on the morning of the 17th for Fairfax Court House, which was about 7 miles further on, expecting to have a brush with the rebels there; but when we arrived we found the "birds had flown," so all we had to do was to follow them, not expecting to find them till we got to Manassas Gap Junction. We marched a few miles further and encamped for the night. Early on the 18th we were up and off; marched about 10 miles and came up to Bull\s Run, and found the enemy ready to meet us. We found them in a piece of woods containing about 20 acres, and had no idea, of course, as to how many we were to meet, but were ready to take our chances, let there be more or less. Carlisle's Battery, of Pennsylvania, being with us, took a position and commenced throwing shot and shell at them, which they returned quite vigorously at first, but in about half an hour the firing ceased. Gen. Richardson ordered the infantry to clear the woods. The 1st regiment of Massachusetts and the 2d of Michigan, to go in on the right, and the 12th NY to engage them in the front. We marched in about 15 rods, and before we knew where we were, we were fired upon by the enemy from a masked battery and musketry, which were so close that the power burnt the men's faces. The men dropped on their faces and returned the fire, and then retreated a few paces, loading as they went, and received the second volley, not only in front, but from the right and left. At this time a Captain in the left wing of the regiment gave the order to retreat, unbeknown to the Colonel, and left with six companies and about two thirds of mine. As I did not hear the order, I was surprised in a few minutes after to find that my men had gone. I ran back and rallied a few of them that I found, and returned, but finding it useless, retreated. The first volley the rebels fired went over the men's heads, or the most of it. After that the men were lying flat on the ground, and but few were killed or wounded. It has been ascertained that there were from 10,000 to 20,000 men concealed there. I had three men wounded, one, Wm. Lathrop, mortally. He was struck by a ball in the shoulder, it coming out at the spine. He lived until Friday afternoon. His family are at East Pembroke, I believe. Will you be kind enough to see that they are informed of his death in a proper manner? You can say to them that everything was done that possibly could be under the circumstances. I detailed three men to take care of him, who were with him most of the time. He arranged his matters with one of his attendants, but as both of my Lieutenants were so overcome with the heat on the day of the battle that they were obliged to be carried off the field, and have not been able to do anything since, I have not had tome to attend to anything else than the company, but will see that his matters are attended to immediately. Wm. Graham was wounded in the abdomen by a bayonet. He is doing well and will live. Alanson Vercillus was slightly wounded by a buck shot in the shoulder. None were killed - I have much more I wish to write, but am too tired to do it now. Most Respectfully Yours, Capt. A. I. Root Republican Advocate - Batavia NY - 16 Sep 1862 - Capt. Root. Taken from the 'Syracuse Courier.' - Capt. Augustus I. Root, of Co. I, 12th Onondaga Regiment, is at home the second time, suffering severely from wounds received in the recent battles. We called upon him at his rooms in the Syracuse House, yesterday, and although dangerously wounded, and in considerable pain, we found him as cheerful and pleasant as though nothing had happened. He has a severe bullet wound in the right side, and another on the left hip, having been hit twice, no doubt by some rebel sharpshooter. From his own lips we gathered the following particulars of Saturday's battle, in the vicinity of Manassas, which will be interesting to the public. Daylight of Saturday morning, the 30th ult., found the Twelfth Onondaga Regiment five miles west of Manassas Junction, with orders to march immediately for Centreville. By sunrise the regiment was well on the way, and had made about half the distance when it was ordered into a corn field, with the balance of Gen. Butterfield's brigade, and prepared for battle. After laying there an hour or two, Col. Weeks received orders to take command of the brigade, and move forward. Capt. Root was ordered by the Colonel to take command of the regiment, which took him very much by surprise, and he received it with regret, inasmuch as it would take him away from the head of his company. Capt. Ira Wood was taken ill the night previous to the battle, and was not with the regiment. There were but eleven line officers in the regiment, and Capt. Root could not take one of them to his assistance. Adjutant Watson, a man in whom he had every confidence, and whom he reports as having done his duty nobly, was the only assistant Capt. Root had during the battle. The regiment moved a few rods into a piece of woods, and halted. Capt. Root cheered up his men, scanned them closely, found them resolute and determined, and was convinced that they would make a "bully fight." The first duty assigned the regiment was to charge upon a rebel battery. On emerging into the open field, which was only a few rods in advance, Capt. Root ascertained that there were two brigades besides that of Butterfield's on the charge with him, and speaks of it as the most exciting and beautiful sight a man ever witnessed. The brigade moved forward in fine style till within about forty rods of the enemy, when the advance was checked on account of the heavy fire from the rebel batteries. Two regiments being between the Twelfth and the front line, the boys had no chance to fire upon the enemy. As they could not stand thus, exposed to a raking fire, they pushed through the ranks of the other regiments, formed into line of battle, and went to work in earnest. The fire from the enemy was terrible, and none but veterans could have withstood it for a moment. The ranks of the Twelfth were being thinned out very fast, and the force sent against the rebel batteries was not strong enough to take them. Reinforcements not coming up, the order was soon issued along the whole line to fall back in good order, and then commenced a scene that beggars description. The enemy opened upon the retreating column with redoubled vigor, piling the dead and wounded in heaps upon the battle field. Capt. Root says he has been under heavy fire several times, but never experienced anything like what the rebels dealt out on that occasion. The smoke from the explosion of shell was so thick that it was impossible to see but a short distance, while solid shot, grape and cannister, and bullets from Mine rifles and muskets were showered upon them by the bushel. In fact, it hailed iron missiles, and it seemed a miracle for a man to escape with his life. Capt. Root had got back about three rods, and was congratulating himself upon having escaped without a scratch, when he was hit in the left hip by a rifle ball. Thinking this was all he was to get, he kept on with his men, but had only proceeded a few steps further when he was struck in the right side by a ball, the force of which knocked him forward, and he fell into a small ditch, half filled with water. He made an effort to get out, but found he could not move, and shortly afterwards found himself in the hands of the enemy. He had been in the ditch but a short time when a rebel approached, and relieved him of his sword, belt, and pistol. In about the space of half an hour the same audacious fellow returned and coolly inquired of Capt. Root if he had some ammunition he would give him for the pistol. This appeared to him as a good joke, and he told his rebel visitor that he was sorry to say he could not accommodate his reasonable and very modest request. In a short time a fellow came along and relieved the Captain of his hat, a new one, leaving an old, dilapidated one in its stead. Capt. Root begged his new visitor not to carry off his shat, but he jocosely remarked that "an even exchange was no robbery, so he would trade with him." As the "secesh" hat had probably been worn before the rebellion broke out, joke No. 2 struck our philosophical friend, the Captain, as a better one than the first, and he acquiesced, with a smile. Aside from these two little incidents, Capt. Root says that the enemy, into whose hands he fell through the chances of war, did everything they could to make him both comfortable and cheerful. He lay in the ditch during the entire night. Just after daylight the following morning, there came up a tremendous shower, which at once put our brave friend in fresh trouble. The water began to collect in the ditch, which threatened to drown him. He made a desperate effort to move out, but found it impossible. His wounds had become swollen and painful, and his joints stiffened. He was so weak that he could not make a noise or raise an outcry. The water was rising rapidly in the ditch were he lay, when four rebel scouts happened to come that way, and saw him. They picked the Captain up and carried him to an old shanty about ten rods distant, and left him under shelter, expressing their wonderment and regret that he should so soon be on the field again to fight them, after his first wounds of only a few months before. Capt. Root remained there until about noon of the next day, when our ambulances, having obtained permission to cross the rebel lines under a flag of truce, arrived, and he was taken charge of, and put into one of them, where he remained until Wednesday night, was removed to Alexandria, and from thence to this city by railroad and steamboat conveyance. The long journey has been a painful one to him, but with the kind care and devoted attention that he is receiving, we hope to see him about in a short time. http://www.15thnewyorkcavalry.org/chapters_9_&_10.htm Col. Augustus I. Root, than whom no braver man ever drew sword, while out on a reconnaissance towards the front, accompanied by several of his men, was shot down by the enemy in the streets of Appomattox in front of the Court House. His body was found the morning after the surrender, lying in the road where he fell, stripped of all outer garments. His remains were temporarily buried near by, and eventually taken up and forwarded to Syracuse, NY, where they now repose in that's city's beautiful cemetery. COMMUNICATIONS FROM COMRADES THE LAST CHARGE MADE IN THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC; THE LAST SHOT FIRED, AND THE LAST UNION SOLDIER WOUNDED by Albert O. Skiff, Captain, Co. A, 15th N.Y. Cavalry, from The 15th Cavalry Regimental History, compiled by Chauncey S. Norton; printed in 1891
Letting my thoughts wander back o'er the cruel days of bloody war, I find that the remembrance of the 8th of April, 1865, is still written upon the tablets of my memory in characters so vivid that it has failed to become erased by the years, which since that time having winged their flight into the past, and as such reminiscences always warms up and sends rushing through our veins the sluggish blood that has been lying dormant for over twenty-four years, once more it brings to mind the time when to our ears came daily the shrill notes of the bugle, the clanking of the sabre, the rumbling of the wagon trains, the stern words of command, and lastly the wild carnage of the battle-field. And as I have never seen it mentioned in any account written of Lee's surrender that a number of the Union troops found their way to Appomattox Court House, on the eve of the above named day, I now put myself on the skirmish line for the purpose of describing the event which occurred at that time, I myself being a participant of the scene. The sun had not yet descended beneath the limits of the western horizon when Sheridan's corps reached Appomattox Station. There meeting some resistance, a charge was made that soon dispersed the rebels, who were drawn up in line to protect the depot and also the wagon trains which extended from the station to the Court House, the distance being about two miles; and while the 15th New York Cavalry were capturing that, the rest of the command were securing four immense railroad trains. Some of the teams had become so completely entangled as to form a barricade, and to avoid the confusion we were obliged to leave the road. How vividly it all comes back to me now! I remember I was riding beside Col. Root, and leaning forward in my saddle to move a top rail we leaped the fence side by side. Soon after our horses regained the road we charged past wagons after wagon, cannon after cannon, and mule team after mule team; on towards Appomattox, little dreaming the fate in store for us. Night had settled down wide and still. The sky above us was completely overcast by thickly flying clouds, through which now and then a few glimmering stars cast a pale and sickly radiance, causing the darkness of earth to become denser and making more ghastly the grey gloom of heaven. Banishing from our minds all thoughts of fear and trepidation we madly galloped on and soon dashed into the streets of Appomattox. When we reached this place the party consisted of about a dozen troopers of the 15th New York Cavalry, among which number were Col. A. I. Root and myself. In the distance we could distinctly hear the heavy tramp of marching feet and the officers issuing their quick, decisive orders of command, which rang out sharp and shrill upon the chill evening air. Col. Root leading the onset, we charged immediately in front of the Court House; there receiving a volley of rebel bullets, we were instantly driven backward. In a moment all was confusion, and after exchanging several shots we were obliged to retreat. I was just at the point of turning about when a riderless (white) horse sprang to my side. I grasped the reins of his bridle, and as my eyes fell upon the empty saddle I realized that another true and noble life had been sacrificed at the shrine of our suffering country, and the bullet which had pierced the brave and manly heart of our gallant colonel had secured to the cruel and relentless war another ghastly victim. I shall never forget the scene through which we passed while making our retreat. The wagon train was completely enveloped in flames, and the boys turning themselves into teamsters, the leader of which was that gallant soldier, Sergeant Gibbs, hitched the mules to the cannon and drew them rapidly to the rear. Leading Col. Root's horse back over the ground which his brave master had passed but a moment before, I gave him to Adjutant Mann, who was the Colonel's most intimate friend. When we informed him of our loss the tears rained down his cheeks in torrents and his manly frame shook with heartfelt sobs, for he realized, as did the rest of us, that we had lost a friend who was both brave and noble and of whom his country might well be proud. His body, stripped of all outer garments, was found in the streets the morning after the surrender, and was conveyed to the home of a staunch Confederate lady at her own request, her womanly heart being full of reverence and respect for the gallant man whose intrepidness cost him his life. She had the body interred in her own door yard and kept his grave covered with a profusion of beautiful flowers. A year latter, when his remains were conveyed to the home of his early childhood her tears fell thick and fast, for she had learned to love the grave of the manly hero and had taken special pride in keeping as a sacred spot the final resting place of our daring Colonel. And as another mark of esteem and honor, attributed to his memory, a G.A.R. organization in Syracuse, N.Y., is called the "Root Post, No. 151" after the "bravest of the brave." Among the relics placed in their room is a fine painting of the colonel presented by Major Michael Auer of the 15th New York Cavalry, and in a prominent place may be seen the well known saddle which carried Col. Root to his last charge, and who, after giving his life for his country's sake, sleeps peacefully among the thousands of brave comrades who fell while "fighting for home and native land." The following extract, taken from the Elmira Morning Telegram, of 1 Mar 1885, shows our position on the night of April 8th, also the exact place where Col. Root was killed. Major T.U. Williams, of Lynchburg, Va., who is now a leading lawyer of that place, who had charge of the rebel skirmish line at Lee's surrender, said: "A Federal Colonel and half a dozen soldiers did a foolhardy act the evening before the surrender. They galloped through the town immediately in front of Lee's headquarters. A saw their dead bodies the next morning lying by the roadside. It was supposed that they were intoxicated. I did know the Colonel's name but it has passed from my memory". But the above narrative, written in reply to this correspondence, tends to infer that Major Williams was mistaken, and that he did the memory of a brave and gallant soldier a great injustice when he says that we were "intoxicated" and the act was "foolhardy," for we made that charge at the command of Gen. Custer, who expected it to be obeyed. Doing as all soldiers do, we went as far as we could. But we overlook all this seeming injustice when we read the following manly explanation, written by Major T.U. Williams, and appearing in the Telegram 12 Apr 1885: "I have seen the letter of Capt. Albert O. Skiff in your paper of March 29th; in which he says I have done injustice to the memory of a brave and gallant soldier. In the information I gave your correspondent, whose letter was published March 1st, in reference to the persons whose dead bodies I saw lying in the streets at Appomattox Court House, I meant only to say that a little after dark, the evening before the surrender, I saw the soldiers lying in the road, one of whom I was told was a colonel, and when my informants told me of the daring bravery of the men, we thought they were foolhardy and perhaps intoxicated. I hasten to say that I am glad to be corrected. Far be it from me to intentionally do injustice to the gallant men who fought on the other side. It was I who proposed to the Telegram's correspondent the toast - "To Grant and Lee; health for the living and respect for the dead." And now in view of the critical health of living heroes, allow me to say I, with thousands of braver and better Southern men, repeat the sentiment - "To the health of the living and memory of the dead." Please say to Capt. Skiff that I am sorry to have done the seeming injustice to his gallant friend, Col. Augustus I. Root. Yours truly, T. U. Williams W  e will now go back to the eve of the 8th of April, 1865, where I had given the colonel's horse into the hands of Adjutant Mann, after which our regiment retired into a piece of woods near Appomattox Station to rest for the night. The lights from the burning wagon train enabled me to find my supper, which consisted of two or three dozen warm wheat biscuit tied up in a pillow case and abandoned by some poor Johnny Reb in his haste to escape. Having satisfied my hunger, for wheat biscuits in those days were a rarity, I looked about me and seeing the moss-covered roots of a large tree standing near by I took my horse by the bridle and lying down slept soundly until the shrill notes of the bugle told us another day had dawned and duty urged us onward.
T  ime can never erase from my memory the sensation of fear and dread which took possession of me as I mounted my horse that morning. In all my four years experience I had known no felling to equal this. Perhaps the sad fate of Colonel Root may have had something to do with it, but I felt as I rode out that morning that to me it was to prove an eventful day. All mortals are more or less superstitious, but the sensation which then stole over me I could not shake off. But as the stern command of our officers rang out on the morning air we knew that the movement was forward.
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