When Johnny Comes Marching Home

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by Lillian M. Henry




  “When Johnny Comes

  Marching Home”

  Lillian M. Henry

  AuthorHouse™

  1663 Liberty Drive

  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.authorhouse.com

  Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

  © 2017 Lillian M. Henry. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

  Published by AuthorHouse 04/06/2017

  ISBN: 978-1-5246-7288-1 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5246-7286-7 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5246-7287-4 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017904474

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

  and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Part One

  Under Fire 1862- 1863

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Part Two

  Separate Paths 1863-1865

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Part Three

  1864-1865 Resolutions

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part Four

  Marching Home 1865-1868

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  A story about the American Civil War as it was experienced by members of the David H. Hickok and John Houston Kunkle Families

  A fictionalized account of how it might have been for them … based on known facts with a large dash of imagination

  Dedicated with thanks to

  Jean and her enthusiasm for digging into the past

  “When Johnny Comes Marching Home”

  Prologue

  Aboard the Plain Joan

  Approaching Boston Harbor,

  Massachusetts Bay Colony

  Sometime in early summer, 1635

  Twenty-seven year-old William Hickok craned his neck with the rest of the passengers lining the rails of the sturdy little craft that had brought them all these long miles across the Atlantic Ocean. The ripe scent of water-soaked earth assured them that land was near while the flocks of gulls wheeling and screeching overhead sounded like heavenly music to their ears.

  “America,” he whispered. “A strange land filled with wonders beyond imagining, forests of trees, animals never before seen, humans unlike any we’ve ever known…have I made the right choice?”

  He studied the faces of the others clustered along the edges of the wooden deck hoping no one had heard him. The array of hand-built wooden structures that could be seen leaning somewhat haphazardly against one another was separated by the muddy narrow street that led up the hill from the harbor. Signs of new construction were everywhere. William looked at his companions and saw the same expression of disbelief upon their faces. Among the others he could read relief, see a few smiles, but mostly awe, apprehension, even fear; only a few had any idea of what to expect next.

  The craft hove to, sidling up to the dock by letting the current take it. The great canvas sails flapped alarmingly as the wind was spilled from them by the agile men in the rigging. Horns blared, shattering eardrums and the chilly air, while the shouts of dockhands, sailors and the waiting relatives of some of the passengers created a cacophony of sound loud enough to confuse the mind.

  William was not expecting to be met. He and the small group of men accompanying him gathered their few belongings, answered the necessary questions by the church magistrates and thankfully made their way to the crowded street. More shouts mixed with the creaking of cart wheels, snorting horses and the clatter of cargo being dropped to the wooden planks of the dock assaulted all their senses and they quickly made their way through the chaos of the waterfront to the inn they’d been told was just up beyond the cluster of small buildings they could see ahead.

  Finding themselves in what appeared to be a comfortable bar room they ordered a pitcher of ale and some meat pie. One of his companions sniffed suspiciously and laughed as the pink-cheeked waitress placed the heavily crusted pie in front of them. “One must wonder just what sort of meat this might be, don’t you think?”

  The others laughed as well and one replied, “What does it matter? After that shipboard gruel even the thought of meat tastes good.” Salivating with appreciation he shoveled one of the steaming slices onto his pewter plate.

  William eyed his companions with affection. The wooden armchair he had settled into soothed his weary back and the young Englishman relaxed for the first time in what seemed like a year. The voyage had taken more time than he had expected but that was lost now in his excitement to push on. He and his friends still had a way to go to reach their destination in a place called Newtowne. From what he had been told a small group of earlier settlers had moved north and a bit westward from this place now named Boston hoping to find ample and more congenial surroundings than this English outpost formerly known as The Massachusetts Bay Colony had to offer. However, he was amazed to see the size of the settlement that he had learned was just over five years old.

  The place was buzzing like a beehive and he’d been informed that more people were arriving regularly. I hadn’t realized so many folks were so anxious to leave home, he thought to himself. He was well aware of the dissension among the groups in England that disagreed over how they should conduct their worship of the Creator. Strange how some people have no tolerance for others that don’t agree with their way of thinking. I guess that’s part of the attraction here, if you don’t like what you find just pick up and go somewhere else. I wonder what the natives that were already here think of that. He took a quick glance around the crowded room but saw no one that looked like he might be an Indian. I wonder when we’ll meet one, he thought with a shiver.

  The waitress was refilling his mug and William noticed his new friends watching him. His cheeks flushing red, he grinned and lifted his mug. “To our success,” he offered as a toast and a diversion, he hoped. I’d be smart to keep thoughts like that to myself, he thought as he took a long draught.

  All fell to the meal with gusto and devoured the pie not caring what the filling might have been. When finished sopping up the last of the juices, they enquired of the proprietor and learned to their relief that they’d been eating venison and their destination was not all that far away. However the day was fading fast and they should be on their way. Reluctantly shoving back their chairs they settled their bill and refrained f
rom trying to hug the pert little barmaid who was looking better and better by the minute. She dipped a small curtsey in their direction as they made their way out the door into the street and hid a grin while tucking their generous tip into her be-ruffled bodice.

  From what William had already seen he knew this town was too crowded to suit him. The buildings were jammed together like peas in the pod. The questions they’d been asked in the barroom and comments they overheard gave them the impression that a number of people were moving out into the countryside as rapidly as possible. Not all of the newcomers were dedicated religious Puritans trying to create the perfect society in this wilderness. It was becoming obvious that if you weren’t one of them you likely didn’t belong here. In addition to that, the fact that many of the native tribes inhabiting a great deal of this area had been decimated by some deadly disease not too many years ago had left much of the surrounding land ready to be taken by anyone with enough gumption to lay claim to it. Quite a few of his shipboard acquaintances had indicated they were ready and willing to do just that.

  Feeling better after the food and rest William and his group jibed at each other over their awkward gaits as each tried to regain his land legs in order to climb the steep and muddy hill to the establishment they‘d been told would outfit them properly. The dingy shop was stuffed with articles none of them had ever even imagined existed. The men haggled with the proprietor over the prices but quickly realized they had no choice. William grinned ruefully beginning to understand how really ignorant he was. Since the duffel he’d brought from London was full, he filled the deerskin sack he was purchasing with what the shopkeeper was assuring him he would need to get established. Surveying the array he wondered if he hadn’t been foolish to even think of undertaking the journey.

  The proprietor smiled, noting the shadow of apprehension cross the young man’s face. “If you’ll take my advice sir,” he began, “you and your friends might be wise to also purchase a good long knife and firearm. It’s not so much the Indians you know, although not all of them are friendly, but the bears and catamounts can be a bother even along these well traveled roads, especially while the sun is going down and the animals set out to seek water. This time of year it still gets dark early.” William nodded, handling the heavy knife he’d been given to examine. He’d never seen one quite like it and didn’t want to think what he might have to use it for. He also was fascinated by the pistol, never before imagining owning such a thing. Checking his purse he decided to buy both. His companions smiled approvingly and patted their hips indicating they’d armed themselves as well. Satisfied that he was now properly provisioned, William counted out his coins, thanking the man for his advice.

  “Good luck and Godspeed, gentlemen,” the shopkeeper smiled offering his hand all around. “There’s some ahead of you been in Newtowne for awhile now. Place was settled by the Dutch fellows who fish these waters. Group from here moved on up not too long ago and I hear most of the Dutch are movin’ out. You’ll have to see if the place suits you. One thing we’ve got for sure is lots of land for the takin’.”

  Settling the pack on his back William slung the duffel over his shoulder and bade the man goodbye. Following his companions out the door he took another long look at the crowded street and the imposing looking fort that sat atop the hill. The hustle and bustle dismayed him. All those cramped and crowded days at sea had resulted in a craving for solitude. He hung back, letting the others go ahead. It was with a sigh of relief that he crested the slope and looked back down for a moment.

  It felt good to stretch his legs and loosen his muscles. He was in no hurry and willingly let the others set the pace. The first miles went quickly but as the sun started to fade below the horizon he gave some thought to what the innkeeper said about the animals and wondered where they would spend the night. He supposed if the village had been there as long as the man had said there would be accommodations for travelers. Drawing in a long breath he sighed, concerned that he might have to share the bed with the others.

  Upon reaching their destination William and his companions were accepted and quickly established themselves in Newtowne* and abided there for several years. At some point in time he and a new group moved further west to another Dutch settlement also named Newtown but was located in Connecticut.

  This Newtown had been renamed Hartford in 1635 and as William and these settlers made their way along the river to the rocky promontory known as Dutch Point, the blockhouse with its two cannons installed by the former residents were still in evidence.

  Ever curious, William was restless there as well and decided to become one of the early inhabitants of a nearby area that came to be known as Farmington. Along the way he met and married a woman named Elizabeth who ultimately presented him with two sons, Samuel, born 1643 and Joseph, born 1645. William died shortly after Joseph was born and Elizabeth married William Adams. With him she had Benjamin, born 1649 and Elizabeth, born 1652. Elizabeth died in August of 1655 just a month after her second husband passed away. The children were now orphaned and ultimately placed with other family members.

  ***

  *(its name was changed to Cambridge in 1638)

  The Hickok Genealogy

  1635-1921

  Children of William Hickok(s) and Elizabeth Unknown

  (The direct ancestors of the subjects of this story are highlighted in red)

  I.Samuel Hickok, oldest son of William and Elizabeth married Hannah Upson about 1667 and moved to Waterbury, Connecticut as one of the first group of settlers about 1677 where he died about 1694. He and Hannah had a family of eleven children.

  2.Joseph Hickok, second son of William and Elizabeth, married Mary Carpenter. He moved to Waterbury in 1680 and then to Woodbury in 1686. Together they had five children, three sons and two daughters. When Joseph died in 1687 his brother, Samuel and two neighbors were appointed overseers.

  3.Joseph and Mary’s son, Benjamin, married Hannah Skeel of Woodbury. Benjamin distinguished himself as a member of the General Court of Woodbury and was referred to as Deacon. He and his wife died in Southbury, he in 1745 and she in 1746. They had nine children. Four were daughters and five were sons.

  4.Benjamin and Hannah’s son, Justus, married Lois Munn of Woodbury, He married second Mabel Hinman.

  5.Justus and Lois’s children of numbered seven, five sons and two daughters. The sons were actively involved in the Revolutionary War. David answered the call at the Fort William Henry Alarm in August of 1757 and later with the Woodbury forces during the Revolution. Gideon was one of the “Minute Men at Danbury Connecticut. After the war he and his second wife, Ann Buckingham with their children and his son, Francis by his first wife Hannah Hinman moved to Greenville, in Green County New York. Justus’s son Reuben died in Vermont during the war. His son Justus also known as Titus went to New York State.

  6.The fifth son, Asa married Hester Hinman, most likely Mabel’s niece. Asa served with the Woodbury troops and later moved to Barryville, New York and ultimately to Pennsylvania to become a school and music teacher sometime after 1814.

  7.Asa and Hester’s children were:

  Justus who married Mary Wells

  David Hinman Hickok married Betsey Rice

  Hannah married James Eldred

  Reuben

  Louisa

  Annis marries Francis Garrett

  8.David and Betsey’s children

  Asa Royer married 1st MaryAnne Woodburn

  m. 2nd unknown, m. 3rd Hellen Lovett

  Thaddeus married Sallie, moves to Michigan during the Civil War and thence to Iowa

  Daniel mar. Amanda Canfield, he was a singer and musician, He also went to Michigan and mar 2nd unknown in Illinois

  Louisa mar. William Carter – moved to Michigan during the Civil War

  Reuben mar. Jane

  Justus mar. Mary Elizabeth Peckett


  Died at age 90 in Rush, PA. singer, farmer and blacksmith

  Esther moved to Michigan, mar Caleb Mills (doctor)

  Mary Ann mar. Erastus West (blacksmith)

  John M. mar. Emily Light.

  Went to Michigan during the Civil War

  died in Montrose, Pa 1900

  These people are aunts and uncles of Asa Royer’s children

  9.Children of Asa Royer and Mary Anne Woodburn

  David Mulford. marr. Jennie Gibson

  Horace, dies young

  Edwin Minor dies in fire in Oil City PA

  Elizabeth Ann marr. Unknown Shew, marr 2nd William Nichols

  Asa Wallace mar. Rebecca Kunkle

  Willie, d.y.

  Cora Edith, dies at age ten

  Mary Etheline, no further information

  Guy Clifton marries Isabel Mary Hooper

  Asa Lee Hickok, marries Alcora Stark

  Thomas Cyrus mar. Mary Ella Lake

  Son dies age 4 days.

  Ethelyn m. Lafayette Baldwin

  Merle

  May marries Herbert Hizer

  Lee marries unknown

  Eldene marries Harry V. Owen

  “When Johnny Comes Marching Home”

  Part One

  Under Fire

  1862- 1863

  Two hundred-and-thirty years later:

  Asa Wallace Hickok, son of Asa Royer Hickok, grandson of David Hinman Hickok, eighth generation descendant of William is re-imagining the story of this journey by his ancestor and realizing, perhaps for the first time, the effort William and the generations of Hickok sons and daughters had put into forming and establishing this country that had grown into The United States of America. Now bedding down for the night before the battle he will fight tomorrow he understood that he and his brothers were being called upon once again to defend it against those who would destroy the hard-won union.

 

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