A Sad Duty After Perryville
One of the saddest tasks for any
officer serving in the Civil War was the post-battle duty of writing home to
the families of the men who had lost their lives in an engagement. Civil War
regiments were, by and large, raised as companies within local communities; the
men were neighbors, friends, business partners, and even rivals. They knew one
another “outside of work” and this aspect made the bonds felt within the
regimental home, even a new regiment like the 50th Ohio Infantry,
particularly strong. When a soldier was lost, the tragedy was not just one
borne by the company but by the larger community as a whole.
Upon
First Lieutenant Oscar Pratt of Co. A of the 50th Ohio fell the sad
task of informing Drusilla Topper that her 25-year-old husband had lost his
life at Perryville. “Throughout William’s connection with this regiment, his
conduct has been uniformly kind and obedient, never murmuring when extra duty
was required or when long marches were necessary. He was uniformly beloved by
everyone in the company,” Pratt related. The English-born soldier had married
Drusilla on Christmas Day in 1860 and the couple welcomed their first born the
previous year; Topper’s death left Drusilla a widow and young George C. Topper
an orphan. Drusilla would remarry in 1870 and George would live to be 96 years
old.
Lieutenant Pratt’s letter was published in the October 25, 1862 edition of the Ashtabula Weekly Telegraph.
Battlefield of Perryville, Boyle Co.,
Kentucky
October 10, 1862
Mrs. William Topper of Ashtabula, Ohio,
I
scratch an opportunity from the many duties of camp life to convey to you the
sad intelligence of the death of your husband. The circumstances are as
follows: on the 8th day of October, we took our breakfast at daylight in the
morning and immediately marched for Perryville which we reached at 2 p.m. of
the same day. We were immediately deployed into line of battle in support of a
battery of artillery (19th Indiana Battery); the battery moved its position and
of course we followed it and took a very exposed position on the top of a hill,
fronting a wooded hill and valley, in which the enemy in considerable number
was posted. It was intended to dislodge the enemy and the infantry was intended
to keep the battery from being taken.
At precisely 3 p.m., we were ordered to
the crest of the hill and ordered to lie flat on our faces until the exact
position of the enemy could be ascertained. While we were in the above
position, the bullets were whistling thickly over our heads and the shells were
exploding in every direction around us, but from the security of our position,
none of us at this time were hurt. Soon the fire from the battery became too
hot for the Rebels to bear, and they began to advance to take it. Then it was
that we were ordered to rise and fire. Every man of my command came up as
coolly as veterans and taking deliberate aim, fired away.
Just before we were ordered to rise,
all of our regiment except our company and the one immediately on our left,
were ordered into a piece of woods that lay on our left, so we were left to
ourselves with two companies under the command of one captain. Our fire was so
deadly that after the ninth or tenth round the Rebels broke and run. No one
behaved better or more bravely than your husband. He would walk up to the top
of the hill, take deliberate aim at the Rebels, then fire and fall back. He was
in the front rank and never swerved. After maintaining their fire for three
full hours and having succeeded in driving the Rebels back, we suddenly found
they were flanking us on the right and left and at the same time were advancing
in front so we had to stand the fire of three columns. All the horses in the
battery were shot except what belonged to two guns, when a retreat was ordered.
We retreated slowly down the hill, forming again at the foot and rallying to a
new front, supported by the 80th Indiana, here we fired three rounds and here
it was that William was hit.
At this time the Rebel flag was only
about 20 yards distant from us and it became necessary for us to either get out
of the way or be taken. As we had no ammunition, we chose the former and again
fell back, William, at the word retreat, started up to fire at the Rebel flag
bearer and the flag came to the ground. Almost immediately he was struck by a
bullet in the right foot and was severely wounded, the bullet going clear
through the foot, just between the instep and toes. He said nothing, but
stopped to pull off his shoe, but it was hardly done when a Minie ball struck
him in the left breast just above the heart, killing him instantly. He never
spoke from the time he was first hit. The last words he said were “I guess that
fellow won’t fire anymore” as he killed a Rebel, and said this to me as he went
under cover of the hill to reload. The Rebels held possession of the
battlefield all night of the 8th and plundered the bodies of everything, even
taking off their shoes and stockings. They missed the ring on his finger,
however, which I enclose to you.
Throughout William’s connection with
this regiment, his conduct has been uniformly kind and obedient, never
murmuring when extra duty was required or when long marches were necessary. He
was uniformly beloved by everyone in the company. We went into the fight with
over 60 men and came out with only 38. A number, however, were taken prisoner
and four were killed outright. Amos Spiller has been detailed as one of the
burying party; he will mark William’s grave so it can be found.
Private William Topper's grave at Camp Nelson National Cemetery. |
Source:
Letter from First Lieutenant Oscar A.
Pratt, Co. A, 50th Ohio Volunteer Infantry, Ashtabula Weekly
Telegraph (Ohio), October 25, 1862, pg. 3
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