Valuable and Good Service

In Cressy Corners cemetery there is a monument to an insane man. It's almost seven feet tall and is still imposing in spite of its list. It commands a view of the rolling hills, meadows, and cornfields of Barry County, Michigan. It simply reads "I.M. Slawson, 1833-1885." Next to it is a robust iris plant, a small marker which says, "Father," and a worn sandstone headstone for Slawson's mother, Clarissa Jump. Between the stones stands a small American flag. The flag and the cornfields hold the clues for why a man who died of insanity might be honored by such an imposing monument.

Slawson's final days were briefly described by the weekly newspaper published in the county seat of Hastings, the Hastings Banner (8 October 1885, p. 5):

Ira Slawson, of Johnstown, formerly of Prairieville,

having shown violent symptoms of insanity, was brought to

this city Tuesday, and placed in jail until quarters can be

secured for him at the asylum.

Two weeks later, the Banner (22 October 1885, p. 5) says of Slawson's October 17th death:

Ira Slawson, the insane man who was being held in

jail until room could be found in the asylum, died of a

congestive chill about 9 o'clock Saturday night.

It seems ungenerous that nothing is said about his service with the Army of the Potomac during the Civil War, particularly in light of the columns the paper devoted to George McClellan at the time of his death the following month. But a review of Slawson's pension records, particularly the pension application written by his wife, Naomi, suggests that Slawson did not talk about the war. Indeed, the probate court records, which contain an application for Slawson's admittance to the Michigan Asylum for the Insane at Kalamazoo, reveal the great restraint utilized by the Banner in reporting the "violent insanity." They conveyed the facts without going into the details which would have further embarrassed Slawson's family.

Ira Miles Slawson was born in Potter, Yates County, New York, on March 30, 1833, the son of Rufus Slawson and Clarissa Jump. His military record reports that his eyes were hazel, his hair light, his complexion ruddy, and his height 5' 9". He joined the 23rd Infantry Regiment of the New York Volunteers in Elmira, N.Y. on 16 May 1861. In November of 1861 he was one of the volunteers hand picked by Col. John Gibbon and transferred to Battery B of the 4th U.S. Artillery. With that unit he served at the battles of Second Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam (which the southerners called Sharpsburg) and Fredericksburg before being transferred back to the 23rd New York in January of 1863. He mustered out with the 23rd New York on 22 May 1863.

On August 26 of 1864 he signed up again as a substitute for Mortimer J. Hoyt, this time with the 71st New York at Avon, and on October 9, 1864 he was assigned to the 120th New York. On 30 March 1865 he was given a field promotion to 2nd Lieutenant in the 39th New York, a fact on file in the New York Archives but not the National Archives. He served with the Army of the Potomac throughout the end of the war, and was with them at Appomattox when Robert E. Lee surrendered on April 9th.. He mustered out with the 120th New York on June 3, 1865 near Washington D.C.

On October 17, 1866 he married Naomi Meeks. They moved to Prairieville, Barry County, Michigan, where he served as town clerk in 1871. He farmed in Prairieville, where their four children were born, and the family eventually moved to Johnstown. On October 6, 1885, he experienced an episode of violent behavior and began attacking anyone who came near him. He was restrained and jailed in Hastings, pending transfer to the asylum in Kalamazoo. He remained irrational, and died on Oct. 17th, before the transfer. It was their 19th wedding anniversary.

On 26 April 1887 Naomi Slawson filed a claim that her husband died of the concussion received from the heavy firing at the Battle of Antietam. The situation did not look promising. Naomi had an affidavit from Dr. Chandler which confirmed that he had consulted with her husband for 19 years, and that ". . . he had a great nervous debility and a great rattling or buzzing sensation in his ears and head sounding to him like the rattling of loose tin. And that such condition existed since the Battle of Antietam . . . and that it was caused from the over charging of the gun that he had charge of in that Battle." The one soldier of Battery B she knew of, George Leddick, could verify that her husband was at the battle, but not that he was wounded or injured. Slawson had not reported his injury to the surgeon. She knew of no other soldiers or officers in this Battery, and Naomi began to advertise around the country.

Battery B was a regular army artillery unit. At the beginning of the war, many of its members resigned to join the confederacy. Their commander, John Gibbon, decided to stay with the federal army, while his three brothers in North Carolina joined the south. In order to fill the ranks, Gibbon solicited volunteers from the state regiments. He personally selected the men who would join his regulars based on their fitness and intelligence. Gibbon was promoted to general soon after and placed in charge of the unit Battery B supported, a unit which would earn the name "Iron Brigade" under his leadership at South Mountain.

Slowly, Naomi Slawson's search began to pay off as word spread among "the boys" that the widow of Ira Slawson needed help. From Minnesota Henry B. Foster sent his affidavit in November of 1888. He stated:

. . . Our guns were twelve-pounder brass guns and

the officers always told us not to stand solid on the ground

when firing, but to stand on our toes and it would not affect

us so bad. At the Battle of Antietam Slawson was the one

that held the sponge staff at the mouth of the cannon and I

don't think he had time to think how he should stand for the

rebels was on one side of the road and we on the other. I

was driving a wheel team at the time and the two drivers

ahead of me had run off and left me alone. When the

hardest of the firing was over I called to Lieut. Stewart to

send some one to take the lead team. Just then Slawson

came close to me. He had a cloth tied over his head. I

asked him if he was wounded. He said no but there was

something in his ears that kept ringing and hurt his head.

We had to talk very loud to make him hear. After the battle

was over we camped on the field two or three weeks and

sometimes he would act in a strange way, as if he did not

know any person, and he complained about his head

hurting him.

Foster added in a follow up letter:

. . . Slawson was at the front of the cannon as

sponger. There was two Texas brigades made a charge on

our battery, and it was one continual firing of our guns till

they were driven back and this was the end of the battle.

While the firing was the hottest I left my team to help carry

ammunition. As soon as we had refurbished them I went to

my team but found both of the other drivers was gone. I

thought they was killed or wounded. I called to Lieut.

Stewart and told him. Just then Slawson came close to us

with a cloth or handkerchief tied over his head, and on one

side of it was all bloody. I don't remember which side it

was. Stewart told him to get on one of the teams but he

could not hear and had to make signs to him. Whether it

was his ears or the cloth why he could not hear I could not

tell. But I have seen some of our men bleed at the nose and

be deaf for a number of days after a hard battle, and . . . you

know that them twelve pound brass guns is the worst kind

to be close to when firing. As soon as Lee crossed the river

back to Virginia we went into camp on the battle ground

and I think we stayed there about three weeks, I remember.

The reports show that on the morning of 17 September 1862 the six Napoleon 12-pounders of Battery B were offering covering fire for the Union forces advancing and then retreating across Miller's cornfield. Simply mention the Cornfield to anyone who has studied the Civil War, and they know you are speaking of Miller's cornfield at Antietam. The Confederate troops, including Hood's Texans, used the corn to mask their movements as they approached the cannons. Battery B was expected to hold that ground until reinforcements could arrive. They were supported only by the infantry that stopped to assist them as they withdrew until the 20th New York was sent up.

James Stewart, the Scottish second lieutenant who had first joined Battery B in 1851 as a private, submitted the following account in his battle report:

I was ordered by General Gibbon to bring my

section forward and place it in position, about 75 yards

distant from and to the left of the turnpike, for the purpose

of shelling the woods, distant from 800 to 900 yards,

directly in my front.

After shelling for some time, General Gibbon

ordered the section to be still farther advanced to a position

in front of some straw-stacks, about 30 yards to the right of

the turnpike. As soon as I came into battery in this

position, I observed large bodies of the enemy from 400 to

500 yards distant, and ordered the guns to be loaded with

spherical case, 1 1/4 and 1 1/2 seconds, because the ground

was undulating, and not suitable for canister. After firing

two or three rounds from each gun, the enemy partially

broke, ran across a hollow in front of the section, crossed to

the left of the turnpike, entered a corn-field, and under

cover of the fences and corn, crept close to our guns,

picking off our cannoneers so rapidly that in less than ten

minutes there were 14 men killed and wounded in the

section.

About this time Captain Campbell, commanding the

battery, brought the other four guns into battery on the left

of my section, and commenced firing canister at the enemy

in the corn-field, on the left of the turnpike. In less than

twenty minutes Captain Campbell was severely wounded in

the shoulder, his horse shot in several places, and the

command of the battery devolved upon me.

General Gibbon was in the battery, and, seeing the

advantage which the enemy had, ordered one of the guns

which was placed on the turnpike to be used against the

enemy's infantry in the corn-field, General Gibbon acting

both as cannoneer and gunner at this piece. The fire was

continued by the entire battery for about ten minutes longer

in this position, the enemy part of the time being but 15 or

20 yards distant. The loss of the entire company whilst in

this position was 1 captain wounded, 2 sergeants, 4

corporals, 32 privates killed and wounded, and 26 horses

killed and 7 wounded. While in this position the battery

was supported by General Gibbon's brigade and a part of

the Twentieth New York Volunteers.

Battery B's bugler John Cook was 15 years at the time of the battle. He was holding Captain Campbell's horse when the bullets hit the horse and Captain Campbell. After dragging the Captain to safety, he returned to find Lt. Stewart and to convey Campbell's message that Stewart was now in command. Bugler Cook then took a sling loaded with ammunition from a dead cannoneer, went to one of the cannons, and continued to serve it for the rest of the engagement. As the rebels came closer, they used double loads of canister. Johnny Cook's name appears on the list of casualties at the end of the battle.

As a result of their performance at the Antietam cornfield, Battery B was given the nom de guerre of "Bloody B." It had the highest casualty rate of any artillery battery, which was not overrun, in the federal army. It was a point of honor to the men of the battery at the war's end that a confederate hand had never touched one of their Napoleons. Lt. Stewart was always proud of his men, but he had a special place in his heart for the boys who had stood with him at Antietam.

The Battle of Antietam was notable for several reasons. It was the first time the Red Cross took the field. Clara Barton and her associates saved many men that day with their supplies of clean bandages and bright lamps. Since it was the first major battle that the Union could claim as a victory, Lincoln felt it was an appropriate time to issue the preliminary draft of the controversial Emancipation Proclamation. Finally, in terms of human lives and suffering, it was the single costliest day of the Civil War.

On 3 June 1889, two years after Naomi Slawson had applied for the pension, an affidavit was sent by Ira Slawson's tent and mess mate:

. . . I knew Ike Slawson as "Mustache Ike". He

bunked and tented with me. The Battery was attached to

what was called the "Old Iron Brigade." Our Guns were 12

Pound Howitzers. We always were told to never stand

solid on the ground. At the Battle of Antietam the firing

was so severe that said Ira M. Slawson after the Battle

often complained to the boys about his head hurting him

and severe pain also. Said Slawson was a faithful and

efficient soldier and rendered valuable and good service.

Affiant is informed that said Slawson died of an affection

of the head, and it is not at all improbable that it was due to

the injury of his head caused by the excessive firing at said

Battle of Antietam.

In his follow up letter he added:

. . . I remember him well tenting and messing with

me before and after Antietam. I know after the Battle of

Antietam he often complained of his head paining him and

said it came from the heavy firing at Antietam. . . . If you

will hunt up the soldiers of 20th N.Y. State Volunteers you

will find among them plenty that remember a man with the

spring staff at the muzzle of the guns with his head tied up,

beckoning the regiment to come on. Only last year I met a

soldier in Washington that belonged to the 20th New York

that asked me the name of that soldier that had his head

tied up with a white cloth and called and beckoned the 20th

N. Y. to come on at your risk.

(signed) John Cook

On 7 January 1890 the U.S. Army awarded Naomi Slawson a widow's disability pension, agreeing that the cause of death was the concussion Ira Slawson received at the battle of Antietam. She was able to use the money to help raise her three daughters, her son Claude already being over 16 and ineligible for support. The probate records reveal the annual records of a competent woman who managed her farm and household well. She married John H. Smith in 1910, and remained active in her church, several clubs, and as a lecturer for the Pioneer Society of Barry County until her death in 1922.

It's hard to say what inspires children to devote themselves to service. But it is reasonable to assume that the eldest daughter of Ira and Naomi, Mary Maud Slawson, witnessed the suffering of her father as he carried on with his life and decided to help relieve the sufferings of others. Born on the 8th anniversary of the Battle of Antietam, Mary was to play an important role in the establishment of the Red Cross in Urbandale, a suburb of Battle Creek, Michigan.

In the same year Naomi was awarded the widow's pension, 1890, Augustus Buell published the history of Battery B in The Cannoneer. Ira Slawson is mentioned in the book twice. The final reference states: "Private William Hogarty, who had lost his left arm at Fredericksburg, was promoted to be Second Lieutenant in the Veteran Reserve Corps, and Corp'l Ira Slawson received a commission in the New York Volunteers. Both these young men were detached volunteers from the 23rd New York, and had served with the Battery since October, 1861." Buell reports that Capt. Stewart, ret., is living in Carthage, Ohio, a fact which would have shortened Naomi's search considerably.

When the Battle of Antietam was fought in 1862, the Congressional Medal of Honor had been authorized but had not yet been issued to anyone. In the 1890's, many veterans of the early years of the war received the medal for their acts of courage above and beyond the call of duty. Of the members of Battery B, William Hogarty and John Cook received their Medals of Honor for their valor at Antietam. As John Cook was 15 years old at the time of the battle, he may have been the youngest soldier to ever earn the medal.

Later in 1890 Naomi Slawson is mentioned in The Hastings Banner, as on 17 September, 28 years to the day after the Battle of Antietam, she gave away her daughter Mary's hand in marriage. Mary went on to have two children who ultimately became teachers. She would not live to see that day. In 1918, she died of the flu as she helped the Red Cross battle the epidemic in Battle Creek and nearby Ft. Custer. One of the afflicted young soldiers at Fort Custer was her son Carl, who survived.

As the Battle of Antietam saw the birth of the Red Cross and began the end for Ira Slawson, perhaps the death of Slawson and the pursuit of the widow's pension lead to the first meeting of Mary and the young man who was to become her husband. For the man she married was the notary public who attested to the testimonies on several of the affidavits contained in the pension file of Ira Slawson: Jason E. Tobias, my great grandfather.

It is over 110 years since those last weeks in October when Ira Slawson lost his battle to keep his sanity. After the war he endured the spells of the ringing and rattling in his head. His neighbors would note that sometimes he would seem affected and "not right in the head," although he tried to hide it from them. Physicians who have reviewed the data suggest that he suffered internal bleeding in his head from the concussion, and over the years the pressure built up and finally caused his violent behavior. It is mentioned in the application for the insane asylum that one of his pupils was dilated and the other was not--a symptom of concussion. At the end, Ira was praying constantly and attacking anyone who approached him. Perhaps he saw himself as Cyrano de Bergerac, fighting off death and all his old enemies whom he had eluded for so long. After a week and a half of struggling against his restraints, the God he never abandoned took His soldier home.

Today the sun shines on the leaning monument, and the wind makes it harder to read as it slowly erodes the surface. To the north the corn waves in the breeze on the land Ira Slawson used to farm. The loudest sound heard is an occasional thunderstorm. Nearby lie other veterans and comrades from the Civil War, and there are also men who served in other times and other places. The monument stands quietly in its simplicity, revealing little but suggesting much of the valuable and good service rendered by the one who lies beneath it. Between the stones, placed there by people who honor him without knowing him, stands an American flag. Through the long dark nights and the cycle of years, it has stood by one who stood by her.