Civil
War Poem
by D. T. Crawford
[of the IL 131st Regiment Co. I
Sent to his wife, Celia Jane Crawford in 1863]
Dawson T.
and Celia J. Crawford are
listed on the 1860 Hamilton Co., IL Census
Come sit you down my dearest dear and
listen unto me,
These lines I am composing are starkly wrote for thee.
We are stationed here at Young's Point, in Louisiana State,
Awaiting new orders from all out generals great.
We have some noble generals who try to win
the ay,
But we had one sore engagement; we had to flee away.
It happened close to Vicksburg, in the Mississippi State,
On the Banks of the Yazoo, December the 28th.
It was on Sunday morning, just at the break
of day.
Our noble General Sherman marched his men away,
Though he did not march them very far before he made a stand.
He was attacked by General Lee and all his Rebel band.
Here they had a bloody contact, it's true
to you I'll tell,
And many Union soldier true, in this battle fell.
How many were our losses, I ne'er could ascertain,
But a thousand true good soldiers lay bleeding on the plain.
It was on Wednesday evening, the new came
into camp,
That our men were bound to leave, ere this new to you was dam.
Then General Sherman, he replied, retreat the best you can,
For we will show those Vicksburgillians what is a Union man.
So he called up his forces and on the
steamers went
And was ordered up the river before we pitched a tent.
For McClerand and he had come down, to take us in command,
And ordered us up the Arkansas for to make a stand.
On the eleventh day of January 1863
Our fleet all lay close by them as snug as it could be,
For our men had them surrounded; they did quickly understand,
For they seen they had not outlet, by river or by land.
So they fired on our gunboats, but found it
wouldn't do
Then they turned upon our forces of the red, white and blue.
Commanded by one Churchill, they thought they gained the day,
But many a Rebel Soldier soon in those ditches lay.
O, now the battle's ended, called the
"Battle of the Post"
And very few of the Union boys on our side were lost.
But prisoners we have plenty, ten thousand or more
While all their dead and wounded lie bleeding in a gore.
O, now we have marching orders, for all the
Southern Land,
And now it is back to Vicksburg for to make a stand.
And the river, it is rising, and the weather, it is fine,
And I hope we'll gain a victory there, we'll always bear in mind.
My name is D. T. Crawford from the Illinois
State
A soldier in the army, enlisted here of late.
I was born in Louisiana and raised in old Kentuck,
Here is to health to Union soldiers, prosperity and luck.
Contributed by Mary Lou Jacobson  |
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Civil War Poem
by Wes Garvin
In honor of a Franklin County,
Illinois lad who joined an Iowa Regiment, then marched off to glory,
never to return again. He gave his all for love of God, Country and
Family. Private Roberson was the Great, Great Grandfather of Mr. Garvin.
PRIVATE MATTHEW L. ROBERSON,
19TH IOWA VOLUNTEER INFANTRY
(Service from Aug 1862 - Dec 1862)
Clad in blue and standing
tall,
he was the proudest one of all.
With knapsack high he bent
quite low,
for his childs', his love would show.
A parting kiss and promises
made,
farewell to wife he finally bade.
Shouldering musket he joined
the ranks,
while marching off, the crowd gave thanks.
Glancing back at his dear
Sally,
return I shortly, I shall not dally.
Twas in the year of '62,
certain victory was what they knew.
No Rebel ball or bayonette,
sent the Dark one whom he met.
Was not the sabre that made
him tary,
Nay, was the creeper of dysentary.
Last thoughts were of his home
so clear,
and his Sally, oh so dear.
Before I take this endless
sleep,
one last time for thee I weep.
As I now enter the eternal
bed,
all are gone, they have been shed.
With eyes now closed, and
heartbeat stilled,
they cover him oer in old Springfield!
Contributed by Wes
Garvin.
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