Corporal John G. Stoughton
Chenango American, Greene, NY, July 23, 1863
Letter from the 114th Regiment
Before Port Hudson, LA, Monday, June 29, 1868
....You have e'er this reaches you, received a list of the killed, wounded and missing, through official sources, and I will not undertake to furnish names. I will speak of only one of the members of Co. E, Corporal John Stoughton who has been missing since the fight of Sunday, and who, it is feared, fell upon that fatal field. The last seen of him, he was loading and firing from the cover of a stump and probably fell at that point; though no trace of him has been found. He is missed from the ranks of his company, where he was very much esteemed. When our people removed the dead from the field, the features of the fallen had so changed, and the stench was so intolerable, that a search could not be made with any success, and they were buried will all that their pockets contained that would help recognize them.
Letter From the 114th Regiment
Chenango American, Greene, NY, July 30, 1863
We are glad to learn that John G. Stoughton was not killed in the battle at Port Hudson on the 14th ult., as we noticed last week. He was taken a prisoner. We are permitted to publish the following letter from him.
Donaldsonville, La., July 11, 1863
Dear Sister: I received yours of May 3d, while encamped in the woods near Port Hudson and begin to think it about time to answer it. You will excuse me this time I guess, when you hear what tedious times I have had for the last three weeks.
We were called up about one o'clock on the morning of June 14th, and marched around to the left. Just as we got there the fight commenced. The 4th Wis., 28th Conn., and 91st N.Y., deployed as skirmishers and charged on the fort. Payne's Brigade and our Brigade were to support them, but it was an awful place to charge, logs, ravines, pitfalls slightly covered with brush, and the steady and terrible storm of bullets and buckshot made it slow work, and by the time the 114th charged up the slope, the ground was covered with the dead and wounded. Col. Smith was mortally wounded, Capt. Tucker killed, and when Lieut. Searles, (being in command of the Regiment) rallied us for the last charge I thought the chances rather against me, but determined to reach the parapet of the fort unless ordered to halt by a bullet. Of all that started I believe I was the only one that jumped into the moat unhurt; but as it appeared I jumped out of the frying pan into the fire, for the works were so constructed that the rebels could rake the moat form several directions. After jumping into the moat I was completely at the mercy of the enemy as they could put bullets at me from several directions. I ran up into a corner where I thought to be tolerably safe, and calculated to wait until a sufficient force came on, and then charge over the parapet with them, but they did not appear. Here I found a dozen men and a Lieut, who being badly wounded and at the mercy of forty rebels, had surrendered. They ordered me to sit down and keep still or they would all be shot. I thought under the circumstances "discretion the better part of valor," and therefore laid down and went to sleep. About 11 A.M. our forces had withdrawn and the Rebels leveled a sufficient number of rifles at our heads and bade us walk in, which we did with the best possible grace. After relieving us (about forty) of our extra side arms and accoutrements, they marched us up to the Provost Marshals Office, took our descriptive list and marched into a six sided enclosure built of spiles some twenty feet high. Here we found about thirty prisoners taken previous to this fight. They welcomed us very cordially and gave us corn to eat, that being all the provision present at the time. We were reinforced in the course of the day by ten or twelve more, but there was not a man from the 114th in the whole crowd except your humble servant, and therefore I had the responsibility of representing that glorious regiment, and of course I did it to the best of my ability.
After a few days they took us uptown near the headquarters of Gen. Gardner, and put us in a room not a quarter large enough; the windows were barred up sufficient to keep out the fresh air, and we had nothing to lie upon but the bare brick floor. If it had not been for our faith in Banks and our spunk, the time would have passed rather slowly. As there was nothing to sit upon, the officers in charge of us very considerately gave us permission to get a couple of benches from the church, and I made up my bed after that on one of them. Being destitute of dishes, having left my things in camp, I had to borrow of the more fortunate. After a while I bought a plate, made a wooden spoon, and happening to have some Confederate treasury notes, I bought a rebel blanket, price $5, and then considered myself fixed. We were divided into 4 squads of 21 each and a cook appointed from each. They were allowed to go out doors under guard to cook. Our regular rations now consisted of sour meal made into what we called mush, or hasty pudding, and molasses for breakfast, beans or stock peas (I believe they are raised only for mules and cattle) and a little salt junk for dinner and mush for supper. We also made corn coffee and parched corn whenever the commissary would condescend to give us any corn to parch. You may think this rather light rations, but we had no exercise at all and we kept our health to a man, but came out looking not quite so dark colored as when we were marching up and down the Teche last spring.
After a few days, the rations began to decrease, and from 28 pounds of meal a day we were reduced to 15, and the beef disappeared altogether. We expected Gen. Banks in on the 4th, sure, but were disappointed; but we knew they could not hold out much longer. The rebel officers offered to parole us, but we concluded we would stay with them and help them eat their scanty fodder. The sick, wounded and missing now averaged 100 per day, the beef and bacon had failed, and the news of the capture of Vicksburg, all combined, induced Gen. Gardner on the 8th to send out a flag of truce and negotiate a surrender.
We were set at liberty at 5 A.M., July 9th, and I immediately found myself on one of the transports that had come down from their anchorage a few miles above, putting down the beef steak, cold ham, bread, coffee, etc., at a rate not to be beat in this department. After satisfying the terrible cravings of my stomach, I with considerable difficulty got up the bluff to witness the surrender of 4,000 rebels and then began to look for Weitzel's old brigade and the 114th, which I soon found. Many were the exclamations of surprise at seeing me alive as I afterwards found the report had been circulated that I was dead and buried. I found all the boys in our company alive, but some 10 wounded.
At 5 P.M. Weitzel's division, consisting of our brigade and 4 others, embarked on steamers and landed here yesterday morning at 8 o'clock. Gen Taylor, taking advantage of the absence of our troops had got reinforcements and captured Brashear City (knapsacks and all) and the country from there up beyond Lafourche, and tried to take the fort at this place but was repulsed by the brave little garrison consisting of only 2 companies and a few convalescents of the 26th Maine. The rebels are only a few miles down the Bayou, said to be fortifying. I don't anticipate much of a fight, but think Warner, will bag the whole of them. We will probably go down to Thibodaux and Brashear and retake those places.
Since landing here we have pitched into the green corn, tomatoes and other vegetables at a rate that would probably astonish the natives if there were any around. We are having jolly good times now, and I think fasting 3 or 4 weeks has done me good. My appetite is rather hard to satisfy, but I shall get down onto my feed after a while, I think we are having nice cool weather now, and are enjoying life hugely.
I almost forgot to say the rebels killed a few mules to eat for a few days before the surrender, and of course I ate a little, just to be in fashion. It was first rate, a great deal better than poor Texas beef.
Well, I am getting short of paper and must close. Give my respects to all inquiring friends. Hoping the downfall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson will have a crushing effect on this miserable war, I remain your affectionate brother. John C. Stoughton
Mr. Stoughton was a veteran of the late war, and as a defender of the Union his manhood and patriotism shone out in their brightest luster. As a soldier he was one who deserved more than he received. He was faithful and true, and his bravery was beyond question. He was not one of those who sing their own praises, but he was always to be found at the post of duty. Whether that duty required him to face the pitiless storms of winter, or the shock of battle, it was bravely and uncomplainingly performed, and that he came out of the fiery ordeal with a noble record and a clear conscious is much to his credit. In Pellet's history of the 114th Regiment, to which our friend belonged, we find a short sketch of his career during those dark days which we deem worthy of publication, as follows:
"John C. Stoughton was born in Greene, N.Y., December 26, 1840. His parents were John and Mary Stoughton. At an early age he had acquired a fair education, and later, became a mechanic. When Company E was organized, he aided in recruiting its ranks and was appointed a Corporal. He soon advanced to the position of Sergeant, and at the first vacancy thereafter, appointed Orderly, or Frist Sergeant. On the 27th of March, 1865, he was mustered as First Lieutenant. Lieutenant Stoughton was always a good soldier. At the fatal charge at Port Hudson, on the 14th of June, 1863, he was one of the few who went over the rebel works, and fell into Confederate hands. The only ration issued to him for some days was four ears of corn per day, as an allowance for 24 hours. He afterwards was supplied with mule meat, which he still protests was "first-rate eating," for the kind. The Confederates offered him a release on parole, but he declined saying "the rest of the Yankees will be here in a few days. His prediction was verified, and on the 9th of July, he was privileged to rejoin his company, when he learned, to his surprise, that he had been dead and buried for three weeks. Such was the report that had found credence. Again, at Cedar Creek, Virginia, he was captured while engaged in "picking off" rebels, but escaped by aid of the deception of a rebel hat and blanket, and rejoined his company the day following. Lieutenant Stoughton was in every engagement of his regiment, and his military history is replete with adventure and his record an honorable one."
Of his immediate family, a wife, son and daughter survive him. With their deep sorrow at the loss of the loved one, how crushing must this blow fall upon the venerable head of his mother--a mother who leaned her rich love upon an only son. But the taps have sounded and he has gone to joint he great army above, and is now in the presence of the Grand Commander whose banners are emblazoned with immortality.
The funeral took place at the old homestead on Jackson street, Sunday afternoon at 2:30 o'clock, Rev. Alex H. Rogers officiating; burial at Sylvan Lawn. A large number of citizens were present, as well as large delegation from Banks Post G.A.R., and Ocean Engine co. organizations of which the deceased had long been a member, testifying their respect for the heroic life of the dead.
After a few days they took us uptown near the headquarters of Gen. Gardner, and put us in a room not a quarter large enough; the windows were barred up sufficient to keep out the fresh air, and we had nothing to lie upon but the bare brick floor. If it had not been for our faith in Banks and our spunk, the time would have passed rather slowly. As there was nothing to sit upon, the officers in charge of us very considerately gave us permission to get a couple of benches from the church, and I made up my bed after that on one of them. Being destitute of dishes, having left my things in camp, I had to borrow of the more fortunate. After a while I bought a plate, made a wooden spoon, and happening to have some Confederate treasury notes, I bought a rebel blanket, price $5, and then considered myself fixed. We were divided into 4 squads of 21 each and a cook appointed from each. They were allowed to go out doors under guard to cook. Our regular rations now consisted of sour meal made into what we called mush, or hasty pudding, and molasses for breakfast, beans or stock peas (I believe they are raised only for mules and cattle) and a little salt junk for dinner and mush for supper. We also made corn coffee and parched corn whenever the commissary would condescend to give us any corn to parch. You may think this rather light rations, but we had no exercise at all and we kept our health to a man, but came out looking not quite so dark colored as when we were marching up and down the Teche last spring.
After a few days, the rations began to decrease, and from 28 pounds of meal a day we were reduced to 15, and the beef disappeared altogether. We expected Gen. Banks in on the 4th, sure, but were disappointed; but we knew they could not hold out much longer. The rebel officers offered to parole us, but we concluded we would stay with them and help them eat their scanty fodder. The sick, wounded and missing now averaged 100 per day, the beef and bacon had failed, and the news of the capture of Vicksburg, all combined, induced Gen. Gardner on the 8th to send out a flag of truce and negotiate a surrender.
We were set at liberty at 5 A.M., July 9th, and I immediately found myself on one of the transports that had come down from their anchorage a few miles above, putting down the beef steak, cold ham, bread, coffee, etc., at a rate not to be beat in this department. After satisfying the terrible cravings of my stomach, I with considerable difficulty got up the bluff to witness the surrender of 4,000 rebels and then began to look for Weitzel's old brigade and the 114th, which I soon found. Many were the exclamations of surprise at seeing me alive as I afterwards found the report had been circulated that I was dead and buried. I found all the boys in our company alive, but some 10 wounded.
At 5 P.M. Weitzel's division, consisting of our brigade and 4 others, embarked on steamers and landed here yesterday morning at 8 o'clock. Gen Taylor, taking advantage of the absence of our troops had got reinforcements and captured Brashear City (knapsacks and all) and the country from there up beyond Lafourche, and tried to take the fort at this place but was repulsed by the brave little garrison consisting of only 2 companies and a few convalescents of the 26th Maine. The rebels are only a few miles down the Bayou, said to be fortifying. I don't anticipate much of a fight, but think Warner, will bag the whole of them. We will probably go down to Thibodaux and Brashear and retake those places.
Since landing here we have pitched into the green corn, tomatoes and other vegetables at a rate that would probably astonish the natives if there were any around. We are having jolly good times now, and I think fasting 3 or 4 weeks has done me good. My appetite is rather hard to satisfy, but I shall get down onto my feed after a while, I think we are having nice cool weather now, and are enjoying life hugely.
I almost forgot to say the rebels killed a few mules to eat for a few days before the surrender, and of course I ate a little, just to be in fashion. It was first rate, a great deal better than poor Texas beef.
Well, I am getting short of paper and must close. Give my respects to all inquiring friends. Hoping the downfall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson will have a crushing effect on this miserable war, I remain your affectionate brother. John C. Stoughton
Obituary
Chenango American, Greene, NY, December 31, 1871
John C. Stoughton, a well known and respected citizen of this village [Greene, Chenango Co., NY], died at his mother's residence on Thursday night of last week, after a short illness of one week. He had been engaged in the carpenter business, and about ten days previous to his death had worked in the rain, assisting to raise the frame of a house. It was there that he probably contracted pneumonia, the disease that ended his earthly career. It is said that he was rather presumptuous in not calling a physician until two days after being confined to his bed, thinking, no doubt, that he had only a hard cold, thus allowing this insidious disease to fasten firmly its death dealing power upon his lungs, baffling the skill of his physician and the care of gentle nursing. Mr. Stoughton was a quiet, unassuming man, and an honorable, upright citizen. He left this world with the friendship of many, and the enmity of none.Mr. Stoughton was a veteran of the late war, and as a defender of the Union his manhood and patriotism shone out in their brightest luster. As a soldier he was one who deserved more than he received. He was faithful and true, and his bravery was beyond question. He was not one of those who sing their own praises, but he was always to be found at the post of duty. Whether that duty required him to face the pitiless storms of winter, or the shock of battle, it was bravely and uncomplainingly performed, and that he came out of the fiery ordeal with a noble record and a clear conscious is much to his credit. In Pellet's history of the 114th Regiment, to which our friend belonged, we find a short sketch of his career during those dark days which we deem worthy of publication, as follows:
"John C. Stoughton was born in Greene, N.Y., December 26, 1840. His parents were John and Mary Stoughton. At an early age he had acquired a fair education, and later, became a mechanic. When Company E was organized, he aided in recruiting its ranks and was appointed a Corporal. He soon advanced to the position of Sergeant, and at the first vacancy thereafter, appointed Orderly, or Frist Sergeant. On the 27th of March, 1865, he was mustered as First Lieutenant. Lieutenant Stoughton was always a good soldier. At the fatal charge at Port Hudson, on the 14th of June, 1863, he was one of the few who went over the rebel works, and fell into Confederate hands. The only ration issued to him for some days was four ears of corn per day, as an allowance for 24 hours. He afterwards was supplied with mule meat, which he still protests was "first-rate eating," for the kind. The Confederates offered him a release on parole, but he declined saying "the rest of the Yankees will be here in a few days. His prediction was verified, and on the 9th of July, he was privileged to rejoin his company, when he learned, to his surprise, that he had been dead and buried for three weeks. Such was the report that had found credence. Again, at Cedar Creek, Virginia, he was captured while engaged in "picking off" rebels, but escaped by aid of the deception of a rebel hat and blanket, and rejoined his company the day following. Lieutenant Stoughton was in every engagement of his regiment, and his military history is replete with adventure and his record an honorable one."
Of his immediate family, a wife, son and daughter survive him. With their deep sorrow at the loss of the loved one, how crushing must this blow fall upon the venerable head of his mother--a mother who leaned her rich love upon an only son. But the taps have sounded and he has gone to joint he great army above, and is now in the presence of the Grand Commander whose banners are emblazoned with immortality.
The funeral took place at the old homestead on Jackson street, Sunday afternoon at 2:30 o'clock, Rev. Alex H. Rogers officiating; burial at Sylvan Lawn. A large number of citizens were present, as well as large delegation from Banks Post G.A.R., and Ocean Engine co. organizations of which the deceased had long been a member, testifying their respect for the heroic life of the dead.
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