Showing posts with label Alfred Bing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alfred Bing. Show all posts

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Lieut. Bing, of Co. C, 2nd regiment . . .

. . . is expected here to-day.  He has been quite ill, and is now coming home to recruit.  This is his first visit home, we believe, since he left here last May as a non-commissioned officer.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Friday Morning, May 2, 1862, p. 1

Friday, June 17, 2011

A Brave Boy

An incident is related of young Spellitich, at Fort Donelson, a member of Co. C, and a son of Mr. Felix Spellitich, of this county, that ought to be recorded.  When our forces arrived at the entrenchments he clambered on top, stopped there, took off his overcoat, laid it down, then his under coat, laid that down deliberately, put his ammunition on top of the pile, then stood and coolly took aim at the enemy.  Each time, when about to fire, he would say “You scoundrel, you shot my captain,” or words to that effect, and every time he pulled the trigger an enemy bit the dust.  Seeing his dangerous position, exposed as the boy was, a prominent object for the enemy’s marksmen, Lieut. Bing ordered him down, but he either didn’t hear, or didn’t want to, and kept on blazing away as if the fate of the army depended on his maintaining his position.  When he came down, he was entirely unharmed.  Young Spellitich is about nineteen years old, and is a native of Hungary.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Wednesday Morning, March 5, 1862, p. 1

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

From The Iowa 2d Regiment

FORT DONELSON, Tenn.,
Feb. 20 1862

EDITOR GAZETTE:– Last Thursday morning we found ourselves on the Cumberland river slowly approaching the scene of contest.  At ten o’clock we stopped to wood.  Col. Tuttle said “come boys” and in a moment a lively scene presented itself as officers and men all turned out to prevent our being delayed while wooding.  We all feared we would be too late to participate.  In a few moments we were on our way up the narrow deep stream, the trees on the bank putting forth their buds in the warm sunshine.  We thought we had seen the last of cold weather this winter.

Thursday night we arrived at our destination and felt grateful that we were allowed to remain on board till morning, as it had stormed, rained and snowed and frozen up in a manner that would have done credit to an Iowa climate.  We marched at once to the left wing of the assailing army, taking two days rations and leaving our knapsacks and blankets aboard the McGill.  You that have seen the cold blustering weather of Iowa can imagine our reflections as we flocked around our fires?  We had no axes and could not find much loose wood.  All night long it snowed and blowed and we bade sleep good-bye.  We were half frozen, and in the best kind of a humor to hurt somebody.

The next day passed gloomily away till about one o’clock when Col. Lauman and Gen. Smith appeared and the order was given to “fall in.”  We were informed that it was expected that the left wing of the 2d Iowa should take the outer works at a charge bayonet without firing a shot.

The order was given and we marched out in an open field and ranged in line of battle for the breastworks, half a mile distant.  We kept a good line until we were half way up the hill to the breastworks.  Here the timber had been felled and formed an almost impassible obstacle to a line of infantry.  Their fire opened upon us, when the boys rushed forward over logs and through the brush up the hill in a manner that would have given a gymnast credit.  Their fire was well aimed and took effect on many of our brave comrades.  George Howell, of company C, was the first to fall, and others followed rapidly.  Capt. Slaymaker fell some 25 yards from the breastworks and died most gloriously, flourishing his sword over his head as he raised upon his elbow, cheering his men forward, telling them to “Charge, Charge, go on, go on, give it to them,” until he expired.  Not for one moment did the column falter, but on they rushed leaping over their dying comrades regardless of their sufferings, of danger, of every thing but the  success of our arms.  Revolving rifles poured a shower of bullets into our ranks by direct and flank fire, from behind their embankments.  In fifteen minutes from the time we had the order to fall in our men were over the works, fighting a hand to hand fight with the few of the enemy that dared brave our bayonets.  The right wing soon came up and fired at us after we had carried their embankments.  Other regiments followed, but as we were in the advance I cannot tell anything of them.  Lieut. Holmes fell on the inside of the breastwork while in advance of the men and was carried from the field.  Sergeant Doolittle fell while gallantly carrying the colors with the advance.  Corporal of company I, raised the banner to support it but a moment, when he fell.  Corporal of company F, grasped it and raising it aloft, feeling at the time that he was sealing his death warrant.  It was a courageous action in one so young to hold his life so cheaply.

In a few moments the enemy had retreated through the woods to an inner work. – Some of the bravest lingered and fired from behind trees.  Numbers of men and officers had fallen.  We were reforming one line when Gen Smith. Came up and told the men, “that we could go through,” and asked if we would go.  He was answered by cheers, and away we went on the run across the hollow to the top of the next hill.  Here we halted and opened a fire on them taking aim and picking off the rebels from behind the trees.  The Col. was stunned by a cannon ball.  Maj. Chipman had been wounded in the beginning of the engagement and the few remaining officers could not control the men if they had wished to. – The enemy had adopted the Indian style of fighting, and the 2d soon convinced them that that was a game that was understood by all parties.

No one is conscious of such music as we heard that day, except those who have been on the battle field.  The cannon ball, grape shot, Minnie ball and musket ball, each as a tone of its own.  Not for a moment did it cease, and many a note was sounded much closer to our ears than was agreeable.  Yet all were cool, loading and firing with precision.  Men fell dead without a groan while their comrades fought on as if it were an every day affair.  Lieut. Bing held his ear close to a soldier’s mouth to hear what he had to say, a Minnie ball whistled between them, cutting the Lieut’s hair.  The sentence remained unfinished.  The artillery was brought up and our men were withdrawn to the breastworks, while our cannon opened on their batteries. – Then we carried off our noble Capt.

We held our position till night when hostilities ceased.  The 2d remained all night and thought that that was the severest part of our work.  All needed sleep, but there we stood, no supper and shivered and stamped our feet all night long.  It was a beautiful night, with the full moon in a clear sky, but so cold that our whiskers were gray with white frost and filled with ice.  It was a long night, but not for a moment would we think of leaving what had cost us so dear.  Our left wing made the charge.  We alone had driven them from their works and held them until reinforcements could be brought up.

The 7th Iowa, 14th Iowa, 25th Indiana, and 52d Illinois were on hand, but the enemy did not attempt to make a charge on us.  Our presence, after one bayonet charge, was all that was required to hold the position.  The enemy was completely discouraged.  Sunday morning we prepared to try the next fortress, having replenished our cartridge-boxes.  Cheer after cheer went up from the enemy’s camp.  Far away over the hills we heard their shouts, and supposed that reinforcements had forced through the lines above us to their relief.  Judge of our surprise when an officer came, as fast as his horse could run, shouting, “They have surrendered!”  Shout after shout went up as he passed, loud enough to wake the dead.  Would that it had but for a moment, that they might know that they were not sacrificed for Liberty’s cause in vain.  What joy filled our hearts when we were ordered to lead the army into the fort, and plant our banner on its ramparts.  It was a greater honor than we had dared hope to win; and when we beheld it flying aloft of their white flag, we experienced the greatest pleasure imaginable.  The Confederates appeared joyous, and received us with cheers, and as we filed back past our troops, regiment after regiment cheered for the 2d Iowa.

Sunday night we slept soundly in the log huts within the fort.  Our killed all died in a few moments, with the exception of Capt. Slaymaker, all were buried on the battle-field, on the top of the hill.  Their graves are marked by a board, bearing name, camp, and regiment.  Our men all died bravely.  Not a shriek nor groan mingled with the din of battle.  They dying quietly expired, and the wounded were borne from the field without the least exhibition of their great suffering.  Their bravery detracted much from the horrors of the scene.  It was not like the many descriptions of battles that I have read.  But for the pools of blood we might have supposed our comrades were sleeping.

Sunday morning I for a few moments left the company as they stood on the breastworks, and strolled over the battle ground.  It wanted some hours of day and the full moon shone peacefully upon the [corpses].  I have read of the glaring eyes and gaping mouth of dead soldiers, but here lay my friends asleep; the eyes are closed, the mouth retains its natural position.  This is not like the dead of our homestead.  I could not but kneel by some of those that I thought must still be alive, but their foreheads were cold; they slept the sleep that knows no waking.  There in the silent repose lay friend and foe side by side.

One of the rebels, a religious character, saw their fire take deadly effect on our little band of 300 men, saw them rush boldly into what appeared certain death.  His heart failed him and he was convinced that they were in the right or they would not face death in that manner.  He surrendered, when he might have escaped.  While planting our flag on the fort a negro remarked to his master, “Why massa, you said these ar’ folks is Yankees and they jes looks like you is.” From what he had heard he supposed we were men in the form of demons.  We have possession of Clarksville, and the 2d will move their [sic] tomorrow.

N. A. H.,
Company C, 2d Iowa.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Friday Morning, February 28, 1862, p. 2

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Young Spellitich

We received the following letter yesterday from Lieut. Bing. It has been so long since we received the article referred to that we do not remember its author’s name. We publish the Lieutenant’s letter that the facts in the case may become known:

PITTSBURG LANDING, Tenn., April 3, 1862

MR. SANDERS – Dear Sir: In your paper of the 18th ult. there appears to be a communication signed “A Comrade,” which I observe has attracted considerable attention. The writer of it drew altogether on his imagination for his facts. But since the article has been brought to the notice of Gen. Halleck and the State authorities, I deem it my duty to ask you for the name of the author, in order that he may be punished for lying.

I will just say in conclusion, that young Spellitich did behave with remarkable coolness and bravery for one so young – so much so that I thought proper to make special mention of him in my official report. He did throw off his overcoat, etc., and fought till the close of the action with a coolness which could not easily be surpassed; but the store about his standing on the breastwork and depositing his ammunition in a pile, and wrestling a rifle from a rebel, etc. has no foundation in fact.

Respectfully, Alfred Bing

– Published in the Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Saturday, April 19, 1862