Herrold Family Off To War

As some of you know, one of my COVID-19 “lockdown” projects has been to explore how many of my forbears served in the Civil War. That number is already nearly 190, and I expect to add many more. We have extracted and saved a lot of information. But it takes a long time to enter the data into our genealogical database because many new names spark additional research. (We use “Reunion” software to store the data on a Mac).

So far, we’ve found many great stories. And the last few days brought one that seemed worth posting now. According to the National Park Service database, over 200 men named “Herrold” (or “Herold,” alternatively) served in the Civil War. (Almost all of them fought on the Union side.)

As it happens, at least a half dozen of those veterans were my fourth cousins. (Not real close, but not that distant either.) More to the point, that Herrold generation supplied fourteen closely related soldiers to the Union Army. To see how closely related they were among themselves, I decided to pick a source and let the software work it out. I finally chose Henry Herrold (1838-1922) as the focus. I picked him because, in 1863, he married his second cousin, which helped tie some threads together.

Also, he was part of the family that had moved the furthest west. This particular Herrold branch is believed to have come to the American Colonies from Germany around 1750, settling in an area about fifty miles east of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. A half century later, part of the family moved west to clear homesteads in a region about seventy miles southeast of Columbus, Ohio. They then split further, with some going to a region about forty miles west of South Bend, Indiana. That was probably around 1845, about ten years after that town was formally established.

The fourteen who enlisted for the Civil War included Henry’s brother and an uncle, with the rest being first or second cousins. Among them were four brothers, all of whom joined the 9th Indiana Infantry Regiment. In fact, that regiment had five Herrold’s serving in it, three of them in the same company. Two other Herrolds served in the 35th Indiana Infantry Regiment. And, late in the war when he was just old enough, yet another Herrold enlisted in the 138th Indiana Infantry Regiment. Six related Herrolds who remained in Ohio ended up serving in six different Ohio regiments. 

9th Indiana Infantry Regiment. National Archives.

 The 9th Indiana took part in most of the major battles in the western theater, including: Shilo, Chickamauga, Lookout Mountain, Nashville, and at least a dozen more. It also served at the sieges of Corinth, Chattanooga, and Atlanta. The 35th Indiana largely fought alongside the 9th, in many of the same actions. The 138th Indiana, organized late in the war, was assigned to guard duty along vital railway lines in Tennessee and Alabama.

Except for two called up for guard duty late in the war, the Ohio regiments also saw hard action, including at the Battle of Antietam, and closed with the Siege of Petersburg and the Appomattox Campaign.

This family generation risked a lot to preserve the Union and free the slaves. Half of them were married, either before or actually during the war. Between them, they had ten children at the time of the war (and many more later). They did not escape unscathed. Two died early in the war, Jonathan Herrold being killed in action at the Battle of Stones River (central Tennessee, 1862). Since he had three brothers in the regiment, one in the same company, it’s entirely possible one of them saw him go down. The family of Joseph S. Herrold did see him before he died. He was allowed to go home, probably to recover from wounds, but expired in January 1862.

Records state that another Joseph Herrold was wounded at the Battle of Shilo, but was able to recover. Sadly, those kinds of files can be a bit spotty. Thus, notes indicate that David Herrold was discharged early (May 1861) due to “disability,” but do not say whether that was due to wounds or illness. It was perhaps not totally a blessing that he lived another half-century. He spent his final three years in and out of a veterans’ home/hospital, where he died in 1916.

Overall, records suggest that seven of these Herrold veterans suffered from the lingering effects of their service in the war. We have no such evidence for the remaining five. Of course, that was long before the mental health impacts were recognized. Still, considering the carnage, the family may have felt fortunate that so many survived.

Incredibly, these fourteen soldiers made up all but two of the related generation who were of the right age. One of the two cannot be accounted for, and may have died as a child. The other would have been just 18 years old at the start of the war. Perhaps the family discouraged him from signing up just so there would be another grown-up male around to help with their various homesteads.
                                                                                                                                      

References: Census records, city directory listings, and other genealogical sources were consulted extensively. Online sources included Ancestry.com and others.

Frederick H. Dyer, A Compendium of the War of the Rebellion, The Dyer Publishing Company, Des Moines, Iowa (1908).

Genealogy & History: Cousin Connections to the Civil War

During research for one of my true crime articles, I discovered just how much data about veterans of the Civil War is available online. There are a great many sites, and one of the easiest to use is a database hosted by the National Park Service at this URL.

So, just for fun, I decided to search the DB for “Filby” (and the various alternative spellings). All told, I got over thirty hits after the obvious duplicates were weeded out. A quick review of the list turned up three names that were already in our Filby genealogy file (Reunion software, on a Mac). I decided to widen the search … and have already found over a dozen relatives who fought in the Union Army. And we’re still working on it.

One of the most interesting links focused on my five-times removed grandfather Thomas Filby (1779-1822). He had a brother, Samuel (1798-1873), who had three sons who fought in the Civil War. They were Thomas (1840-1905), Samuel, Jr. (1844-1898), and William (1847-1919). These men were, of course, my first cousins (five times removed).

Thomas and William enlisted in 1862 and, on November 23, 1862, were mustered into Company C, 18th Pennsylvania Cavalry Regiment. William must have blatantly lied about his age, with his brother backing him up. The unit had relatively easy duty to begin with, serving as part of the defensive garrison for Washington, DC. They were actually fortunate for them, since they had been equipped with castoff swords, obsolete carbines, and (apparently) no revolvers.

18th Pennsylvania Cavalry, ca 1863. Library of Congress.

At the beginning of 1863, the 18th Pennsylvania Cavalry was transferred into northern Virginia, where they encounter the famous Moseby’s Rangers. A regimental history states that Moseby considered their arms so inferior that “it did not pay to capture them.” In fact, Thomas was captured while on picket duty … but was soon released. The Army finally upgraded their weaponry in the spring when they became part of the Army of the Potomac.

In late June, the regiment saw its first serious action at the Battle of Hanover, about 13 miles east of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. At the subsequent Battle of Gettysburg, the regiment participated in one major charge, then spent the rest of the time skirmishing with Confederate scouts and probes. The regiment saw almost continuous action from then on, including at The Wilderness and the Battle of Cold Harbor.

They were then transferred to the Shenandoah Valley for that campaign, where they again saw hard action. Thus, on October 19, 1864, the regiment took part in the Third Battle of Winchester, which, according to the National Park Service, many historians consider “the most important conflict of the Shenandoah Valley.”

A few weeks before that battle, Samuel Filby enlisted in the 50th Pennsylvania Infantry Regiment. The 50th had seen brutal action in many theaters before rejoining the Army of the Potomac for the major battles of 1864. They had taken heavy losses and needed reinforcements badly. Tough as the Shenandoah Campaign was for his brothers, Sam probably had it worse. For the 50th played a major role in the Siege of Petersburg. After taking part in the final breakthrough there, the regiment joined in the pursuit leading to General Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9, 1865.

Meanwhile, the 18th Pennsylvania Cavalry was still busy in the Shenandoah Valley, adding more battle stars to its record. Thomas, however, had been injured in an accident and was too disabled for combat duty. He was reassigned to the “Veteran Reserve Corps.” All told, the regiment fought in around fifty significant actions. Around 300 soldiers died in action or from disease. Probably over 200 men suffered crippling wounds, injuries, or sickness. Some, like Thomas, were transferred to the Reserve Corps, but most received medical discharges. The regiment also lost over 250 men to desertion or missing in action. Shortly after the last Confederate units surrendered, remnants of the 18th were consolidated with another depleted regiment to form a new “provisional” cavalry regiment.

William Filby was discharged in July 1865, about a month after Samuel. The Reserve Corps still had duties guarding government facilities and property during the post-war demobilization. Thus, Thomas Filby was not discharged until August. Having survived the war, the three brothers returned to Greene County, in the southwest corner of Pennsylvania. They married, and began raising families. All went into farming, although William also worked as a carpenter for a time.

Thomas, of course, had survived an injury during the war, but none of the brothers really escaped unscathed. Thus, William filed for “Invalid” status on his military pension in 1879, when he was in his early thirties. Samuel followed with the same request four years later, when he was less than forty years old. Finally, Thomas filed for Invalid status in 1888. He was less than fifty years old. Still, only Samuel died relatively young … in 1898 when he was 54 years old. Thomas Filby died in 1905, and William in 1919.

Pennsylvania Monument at Gettysburg. National Park Service.

I don’t expect to find anyone famous in our continued search, although William did attain the rank of sergeant. Two of them – Thomas and William – do have their names inscribed on the Pennsylvania Monument at the Gettysburg National Military Park. Still, the project is already fascinating and who knows what else might turn up? We’ve only found one Filby who joined the Confederate Army, and he changed sides at his first opportunity.

And yes, we’ve already found several other Filby relatives who died as Union soldiers, or did not long survive the end of the war.

                                                                               

References: Extensive use of census, military, and other records available at Ancestry.com

Samuel P. Bates, History of Pennsylvania Volunteers, 1861-5, State Printing Office, Harrisburg (1870).

History of the Eighteen Regiment of Cavalry, Pennsylvania Volunteers, Wynkoop Hallenbeck Crawford Company, New York (1909).

Some Words of Explanation (RE: Shoshone-Bannock Reservation)

The “On This Day” item for June 14 states that the original boundary definition for the Shoshone-Bannock Reservation (now the Fort Hall Indian Reservation) “made no sense.” The hand-drawn map looked impressive, but it did not (could not, in fact) match up with the written description. But officials didn’t know that, and at least some thought the information was based on an actual survey.

The Shoshone-Bannock Reservation was one of two described in an 1867 letter from the U. S. General Land Office (GLO) to the Acting Secretary of the Interior, Judge William T. Otto. That, and a letter from the Office of Indian Affairs, became the basis for the Acting Secretary’s recommendation to President Andrew Johnson. The President’s very brief Executive Order (indirectly) approved the following border description:

Judge William T. Otto,
Acting Secretary of the Interior, 1867.
Library of Congress.

The boundaries as defined by the local Indian agents, as per separate diagrams of the above reservations are:
1st. The Boise and Bruneau Bands of Shoshone and Bannock Reservation: “Commencing on the south bank of Snake River at the junction of the Port Neuf River with said Snake River; thence south 25 miles to the summit of the mountains dividing the waters of Bear River from those of the Snake River; thence easterly along the Summit of said range of mountains 70 miles to a point where Sublette road crosses said divide; thence north about 50 miles to the Blackfoot River; thence down said stream to its junction with the Snake River; thence down Snake River to the place of beginning,” embracing about 1,800,000 acres and comprehending Fort Hall on the Snake River within its limits.

It is unclear how the original authors of this statement arrived at that description. Perhaps it grew from talks with tribesmen and trappers. It was certainly not based on an actual survey. The same has to be said for the “separate diagram” (map). In any case, more and more whites settled in the region over the next few years. And these white ranches and towns were often visited by Indian bands, who tended to wander around despite the treaty. Naturally, the settlers asked: Are we on the reservation, or not? The Indian Agent could not be sure.

Finally, complaints from agency officials induced the GLO to do something. A contract was awarded to surveyor John B. David on April 5, 1873. The initial leg of the survey was straightforward. Based on the river junction at that time, David placed the western boundary at 112º 44.3' West. A run south along that line for 25 miles ended at a point not quite two miles southwest of Bannock Peak.

Survey crew, ca 1873. Library of Congress.

I used a modern topological map (below) to illustrate the border he surveyed. The party would have traced the straight solid line that has been superimposed on the left side of the map. The heavy line on the far right shows the course of the Bear River. The Bear continues south until it empties into the Great Salt Lake

Surveyor David faced a quandary … two quandaries, in fact. First, the line running along 112º 44.3' W does not cross a divide between the Snake and Bear river watersheds. (Nor will it, even if you extend the line further south.) Secondly, the “Sublette road” landmark (about three miles east of today’s Lava Hot Springs) is only about 40 miles, not 70, east of the point near Bannock Peak. It is not quite on a line pointing exactly east either, but that was a lesser problem.

Both the range David was in (the Deep Creek Mountains) and the next to the east (the Bannock Range) run in a north-south direction. Neither has any substantial “summit” (divide) that would take the survey party in an easterly direction, per the Reservation description. David’s field notes are not now readily available, but historian Brigham Madsen accessed them for his 1980 book on the Northern Shoshoni. He offered the following quote from the surveyor’s report: “Believing it to be the meaning of my instructions to follow said divide, rather than an Easterly direction, I did so.”

With that, we can infer what he decided by where he actually ran the survey line. The Bannock Range recedes into a kind of saddle directly to the east of where the straight south line ended, offering no summits that might lead to somewhere useful. But a distinct ridge re-forms to the south of the swale. From there, the survey party could remain in the mountains, needing to cross only two narrow valleys to go east.

So David traced a straight line at about 15º south of due east. A run of 24 miles (dashed line on the map) brought them almost to the ridge. The party then turned in a southerly direction, using the crest as a general guide. The Bannock and Portneuf ranges are quite rugged, so the surveyors would have found it much easier to run straight-line segments over the lower slopes. For the next twenty-five miles or so, they used the high ground to make a loop around the south end of Marsh Valley, “bridging” over to the Portneuf Range at Red Rock Pass (near Zenda).

Deeper into that range, a hogback running in a north-northeasterly direction provided a guide for the surveyors. After eight to nine miles on a straight course, they would have encountered a ridge where they could look out on the Bear River valley. At last they were at an actual Bear River divide. A careful check of their east-west position (longitude) would have told David that they were east of “where Sublette road crosses said divide.” So then the party headed in a north-northwesterly direction until they were directly south of the Sublette landmark.

From there, the surveyors headed north until they hit the northernmost loop of the Blackfoot River. They found that the “about 50 miles” between Sublette road and the river was closer to 36 miles.

The original description appears to have been largely a guess, based on vague notions about the regional geography. Thus, the new southern and eastern borders were quite different from those in the original diagram … the one approved by President Johnson. Still, the 1873 line became the definitive description of the Reservation, and the starting point for what came later.
                                                                                 

References: Executive Orders Relating to Indian Reserves: from May 14, 1855 to July 1, 1912, U. S. Office of Indian Affairs, Government Printing Office, Washington, D. C. (1912).

Brigham D. Madsen, The Northern Shoshoni, The Caxton Printers, Caldwell, Idaho (1980).

Report of the Commissioner of the General Land Office to the Secretary of the Interior for the Year 1874, Government Printing Office, Washington, D. C. (1874).

Idaho History Books

The topic for today – problems with cattle drives – gives me a chance to plug my books ... one in particular.

If you want to learn more about the development of stock raising in Idaho, then you need a copy of my book Before the Spud: Indians, Buckaroos, and Sheepherders in Pioneer Idaho. The book covers the history from the "first stockmen of Idaho" – Shoshone and Nez Percés horse raisers – and carries forward to about 1910, followed by a brief survey of the state of affairs today. Learn more about the book at my South Fork Revue blog under Before the Spud.

 While you're at it, also check out Idaho Mining History: Boise River Gold Country. That book tells the story, in words and pictures, of the settlement of the mountainous regions drained by the Forks of the Boise River after gold was discovered there.

You might also find Idaho: Year One, An Idaho Sesquicentennial History of some interest. Using contemporary published articles and letters from the gold camps, the book captures the day-by-day excitement and uncertainty as hopeful prospectors poured into the area.

My fourth book, American Sherlock: Remembering a Pioneer in Scientific Crime Investigation, is also indirectly involved with Idaho history. It presents the biography of Luke S. May, who ran his detective agency out of Pocatello for about four years before moving on to Seattle.

All four books are available at Amazon.com or you can order them through other booksellers.