We know that the regiment suffered between
fifty to sixty casualties, including eight killed, during the Turkey Creek
fight. I would like to look at an experience of one of the wounded men,
Velorus W. Bruce, who was a private in Company A. He was a student at Adrian
College before enlisting at age nineteen on 2 August 1862. In his own words
written twenty five years later:
On reaching Turkey Creek, about
eight miles from Lenoir Station, the Johnnies overtook us and Company A, with
one or two other companies, were deployed as skirmishers, and while falling
back across the creek we filled our canteens with fresh water. On ascending
the bank of the creek I was wounded through the knee joint of my right leg and
immediately fell into the hands of the enemy. A dozen or fifteen other
comrades were wounded at the same time one being Israel Mapes of Company A,
and Corporal Knight and Ezekiel Sargeant of the same company were killed.
Knight receiving his death wound in the forehead while carrying the colors,
and Sargeant, dying unconscious from his wound in the breast, lying beside me
and touching elbows during the following night.
While lying wounded Bruce feared that his foot would swell and make it
difficult to get his boot off. He held the foot up to one of the first
Confederates who came along, and asked him to pull off the boot. The rebel
stopped, laid down his gun, pulled the boot off, handed it to back to Bruce,
picked up his gun and went on.
Soon after that, Bruce
noticed a company of Confederates coming across the creek and filling their
canteens with fresh water. He noticed that one had a cedar canteen, made of
staves, heads and hoops like a barrel, like one which Bruce wanted to send
home as a relic. Bruce said that he...
...kept
my eye on this Confederate, and when he came along I stumped him for a trade,
and there, lying on the field wounded, I traded canteens, and now have the
much coveted relic at my home in Big Rapids, Michigan.
The dead and wounded laid on the field until
dark, when some of Bruce's comrades, who had been captured, but not wounded,
came under guard and carried them to a farm house, just across the road from
where they had fallen. This would be just down the road from the Virtue
Cemetery where the Seventeenth marker is located.
The farm was owned by a loyal Union widow,
Mrs. Nancy Serena Galbraith who had two sons in Federal service in the First
Tennessee Infantry Samuel (19) and Thomas (17). She also had four small
children (David, 13; Abram, 11; Ann, 7 and Matthew, 5) and a daughter Lourinda
(18) at home. Her husband, Samuel Gaston Galbraith had died in 1857 months
before the birth of Matthew.
Bruce stated that she...
...gave up to us the best room in her
house, and on the following day the daughter, with a neighbor woman, went with
ropes and brought bundles of straw on their backs a mile and a half to make
beds for us wounded boys to lie on. Bed ticks were filled and laid in rows on
each side of the room, with an alleyway between to the large fireplace. Our
wounds were dressed and my leg amputated by the Confederate surgeons, just 24
hours after we were wounded, and two of Mrs. Galbraith's boys, Abram and
David, buried my foot in the back yard.
They remained there nearly a month, and Mrs. Galbraith furnished from her own secreted stores "all we had to eat during our stay there, except one ration of flour which the Confederates gave us." Mrs. Galbraith and the older daughter did their cooking and washing, and took care of them as "our mothers and sisters would have done if they had had the opportunity."
On Thanksgiving night the young women of the
neighborhood dropped in to make their Thanksgiving a memorable one. It was a
surprise visit, and they brought a large dish of molasses candy with them, and
passed it to the men as they sat up in bed.
We had a genuine candy pull in Dixie on
that Thanksgiving night in 1863.
When Longstreet was forced to retreat because
of the approach of General Sherman's troops, Bruce and his comrade's were
"recaptured" and taken to Knoxville hospitals.
When I fell, wounded, and my comrades could not carry me off the field, and could only ~ judge of the nature of my wound from my appearance as they saw me fall. Lieutenant C.D. Todd wrote home to his folks that Bruce was 'mortally wounded and left in the hands of the Rebels.' This news was immediately conveyed to my folks and was the last they heard of me until after I was recaptured. They gave me up for dead, and President McEldowney announced my death in chapel exercises and pronounced quite an obituary, but I lived to surprise them all and spent three years in school at the college after the war. My first letter, after I was wounded, was to my mother, and she received it on Christmas eve, and she assured me that it was the merriest Christmas of her whole life-the dead was alive, the lost was found.
Bruce returned home on a furlough and received a discharge from the army at St. Mary's hospital in Detroit on 27 March 1864. On returning home he was presented with one hundred dollars to procure an artificial limb, a patriotic gift from the citizens of Adrian. He immediately went to Cincinnati and procured the limb.
Also after getting home, he made application to the government for compensation for Mrs. Galbraith, for the provisions she furnished and the "care she and her family gave us during our fortunate stay in her house." He furnished proofs substantiating the claim, and about two weeks after furnishing the proofs, Bruce received a letter from the daughter, Miss Lourinda, informing him that they had just received $357 from the government for taking care of us boys. It was a surprise to them, coming just in the nick of time, when they were wondering where their next meal was coming from. He had not previously informed them of the effort in their behalf.
1888 he visited the family twenty five years after he was wounded, and had a "most royal visit" with the children as their "sainted mother" had gone to her reward in heaven four years before on 29 September 1884.
Today, the area just beyond the ford at Turkey Creek is being threatened with more development. I suggest that you make an effort to contact the local historical society to see is any help is need to preserve at least a small portion of the area.
"An
Adrian Boy."
In Remmiscent [sic] Mood on Days Long Past.
Tells Again the Story of the War as He Saw It.
As a College Boy V.V. Bruce Enlisted For Service.
A Tale That Grows Not Quite Old with Age.
V.W. Bruce, who visited old acquaintances here last week, returned to the city Thursday, from a family reunion at the home of his brother Chas. W. Bruce, of Hudson, and he favored a representative of The Telegram with the following interesting reminiscence of his service in the Civil War.
I went out from Adrian college in Company A, Seventeenth Michigan Infantry, August 2 1862, which regiment was assigned to Burnside's Ninth army corps, and was in the army of the Potomac until the spring of 1863, when we went west into Kentucky, then to Vicksburg, and returning north went into East Tennessee by way of Cincinnati, Lexington and Cumberland Gap, going into winter quarters about 25 miles west of Knoxville, where we built neat log shanties.
On the night of November 15 we were aroused at midnight and ordered to pack up and get ready to march immediately, and burn our shanties. The late order made us very indignant for we thought we were comfortably settled for the winter. But Longstreet had withdrawn his corps from the Confederate army before Chattanooga and started for East Tennessee, and we went to the Tennessee River, near Loudon, on the 14th to prevent his crossing. On arriving there we received orders from Gen. Grant to fall back from Knoxville and fortify and hold that city and he would send a force up in Longstreet's rear. Before daylight on the morning of the 15th we had commenced said retreat, and at sundown reached Lenoir Station, where we burned our shanties. The Confederate forces were close upon us, and were halted and sent into camp for the night by a shot from one of our cannons. Our regiment was immediately thrown out as pickets, and the night was a sleepless one for us.
On the morning of the 16th the pickets were ordered in about daylight, and we found our regiment rear guard for the day, supported by our brigade, and the balance of Burnside's force was well on the way to Knoxville. We cut down the wheels and set fire to three or four of our supply wagons, which we could not take with us, and started on after our army. On reaching Turkey Creek, about eight miles from Lenoir Station, the Johnnies overtook us and Company A, with one or two other companies, were deployed as skirmishers, and while falling back across the creek we filled our canteens with fresh water. On ascending the bank of the creek I was wounded through the knee joint of my right leg and immediately fell into the hands of the enemy. A dozen or fifteen other comrades were wounded at the same time one being Israel Mapes of Company A, and Corporal Knight and Ezekiel Sargeant of the same company were killed. Knight receiving his death wound in the forehead while carrying the colors, and Sargeant, dying unconscious from his wound in the breast, lying beside me and touching elbows during the following night.
While lying on the field, wounded, I feared that my foot would swell and make it difficult to get my boot off, after my wound became sore, therefore, I held my up my foot to one of the first Confederates who came along, and asked him to pull off my boot. He stopped, laid down his gun, pulled off my boot, handed it to me, picked up his gun and went on.
Soon after the above incident, I noticed a company of Confederates coming across the creek and filling their canteens with fresh water, and I noticed that one had a cedar canteen, made of staves, heads and hoops like a barrel. I wanted such a one to send home as a relic, therefore I kept my eye on this Confederate, and when he came along I stumped him for a trade, and there, lying on the field wounded, I traded canteens, and now have the much coveted relic at my home in Big Rapids [Michigan].
We laid on the field until dark, when some of our own comrades, who had been captured, but not wounded, came under rebel guard and carried us all to a farm house, jus across the road from where we fell. The farm was owned by a loyal Union widow, Mrs. Nancy S. Galbraith, who had two sons in our army in ~he First Tennessee Infantry. She also had at home four small children and a daughter 18 years old. This widow gave up to us the best room in her house, and on the following day the daughter, with a neighbor woman, went with ropes and brought bundles of straw on their backs a mile and a half to make beds for us wounded boys to lie on. Bed ticks were filled and laid in rows on each side of the room, with an alleyway between to the large fireplace. Our wounds were dressed and my leg amputated by the Confederate surgeons, just 24 hours after we were wounded, and two of Mrs. Galbraith's boys, Abram and David, buried my foot in the back yard.
We remained there nearly a month, and Mrs. Galbraith furnished from her own secreted stores all we had to eat during our stay there, except one ration of flour which the Confederates gave us, and she and her older daughter did our cooking and washing, and took care of us as our mothers and sisters would have done if they had had the opportunity.
On Thanksgiving night the young women of the neighborhood dropped in to make our Thanksgiving a memorable one. It was a surprise visit, and they brought a large dish of molasses candy with them, and passed it to us boys as we sat up in bed, and we had a genuine candy pull in Dixie on that Thanksgiving night in 1863.
Sherman's forces finally came up in Longstreet's rear and hustled the later out so fast that he could not take us with him, hence we were recaptured and taken to Knoxville hospitals.
When I fell, wounded, and my comrades could not carry me off the field, and could only judge of the nature of my wound from my appearance as they saw me fall. Lieutenant C.D. Todd wrote home to his folks that Bruce was 'mortally wounded and left in the hands of the Rebels. This news was immediately conveyed to my folks and was the last they heard of me until after I was recaptured. They gave me up for dead, and President McEldowney announced my death in chapel exercises and pronounced quite an obituary, but I lived to surprise them all and spent three years in school at the college after the war. My first letter, after I was wounded, was to my mother, and she received it on Christmas eve, and she assured me that it was the merriest Christmas of her whole life-the dead was alive, the lost was found.
I returned home on a furlough and received my discharge from the army at St. Mary's hospital in Detroit, March 27, 1864, and on returning home was presented with the money ($100) to procure an artificial limb, a patriotic gift from the citizens of Adrian. I immediately went to Cincinnati and procure the limb.
Soon after I returned home, I made application to the government for compensation for Mrs. Galbraith, for the provisions she furnished us and the care she and her family gave us during our fortunate stay in her house. At the request of the government I furnished proofs substantiating the claim, and about two weeks after furnishing the proofs, received a letter from the daughter, Miss Laurinda, informing me that they had just received $357 from the government for taking care of us boys. It was a surprise to them, coming just in the nick of time, when they were wondering where their next meal was coming from. I had not informed them of my step in their behalf.
I visited the
family just 25 years after I was wounded, and had a most royal visit with the
children, the sainted mother having gone to her reward in heaven there or four
years before.
Source: Undated [printed after 1888] article in The Telegram [an Adrian,
Michigan newspaper] found in the papers of Sergeant William A. Smith, in
Company A, Seventeenth Michigan Infantry. Smith was also from Adrian,
Michigan. Smith's papers, relics and some of his military belongings are now
in the private collection of Don Troiani, collector, painter and uniform
expert in Connecticut.
