On May 25, 1998, we will once again gather on Memorial Day to honor those who gave their
lives in defense of our country. Memorial Day, originally known as Decoration Day, was
first observed on May 30, 1868. This year, Civil War re-enactors will participate in the
parade and the wreath laying ceremonies. It will be a tangible reminder of our county's
role in that war. History books unfold the story of the Civil War and its many battles in great
detail. Although Shelby County gave much to the war effort, it was spared as the scene of
any bloodshed. Not by much, however. A drama was played out on the streets of Sidney in
September of 1864 that nearly cost the life of the Democratic candidate for Vice President
of the United States. This is the story of what has come to be known as the Battle
of the Cannon.
From the time the first
shots were fired to begin the Civil War, most Americans believed the conflict would be
over in less than 90 days. Early Confederate successes, however, created the somber
realization that it would be a long war. As the fighting dragged on into 1864, and the
number of casualties mounted, a significant amount of anti-war sentiment developed in
parts of the North. Mercer County was a known center of anti-war activity. By the fall of
1864, after three long years of battle, the anti-war movement had gained a fair amount of
popular support. The country's chief anti-war activist was Congressman Clement L.
Vallandigham of Dayton (photo at right). He led a movement known as the 'Copperheads' (so named because of
the Indian heads cut from Indian head pennies they wore on their lapels).
Vallandigham was a highly controversial
character. From the beginning of the war, he was an outspoken pacifist. To the Republicans
in Congress, he defiantly stated: "Money you have expended without limits, and
blood poured out like water. Defeat, debt, taxation, and sepulchers--these are your only
trophies." While running for the Democratic nomination for governor of Ohio, he
urged soldiers to desert the army. As a result of his statements, he was tried and
convicted by a military tribunal of treason in the spring of 1863. His sentence: delivery
through enemy lines into the hands of the Confederates. Vallandigham later disappeared,
and surfaced in Canada, reminding one of the travel plans of a 1960s Vietnam War
protester.
Vallandigham was back in Ohio by the summer of 1864. People had not
forgotten. Lincoln said, in reference to him: "Must I shoot a simple-minded
soldier boy who deserts, while I must not touch a hair of the wily agitator who induces
him to desert?" One can only imagine the degree to which Vallandigham was hated
by the Union soldiers. The presidential campaign of 1864 shaped up to a major test of
Lincoln's policy on the war. The Democrats nominated George McClellan for president and
George H. Pendleton, a close friend of Vallandigham, for vice-president.
Amid this highly charged atmosphere, plans were laid by local Democrats for Pendleton
and Vallandigham to speak in Sidney on September 24, 1864. A crowd of several thousand
people turned out for the event. That same day, by coincidence, a regiment of Union
soldiers from Michigan was in Sidney, having stopped here to change trains. The regiment
had been discharged from service in Kentucky.
The 11th Michigan Volunteer Infantry had seen plenty of action during the war, and had
survived heavy fighting at Stones River,
Mission Ridge, Chicamauga and Atlanta. The boys were ready to return to
their homes. All that separated them from their families was the next train.
Col. Melvin Mudge was the surviving senior officer of the 11th Michigan during the war
years. Unfortunately for Vallandigham, the event in Sidney was not the first time the
troops of the 11th had encountered him. The battle of Stones River was one of the fiercest
battles in the western theater of the war. Just after the battle, the 11th Michigan was
assigned to guard duty, with Mudge in charge. He received a secret order at 2 o'clock in
the morning for his men to transport Vallandigham, who had just been convicted of treason,
across enemy lines to live with the Rebels.
Many years later, Mudge recalled: "None of my detail knew who they were
guarding until the next day... The feeling was so bitter against him... I remember the
next morning, when the army was informed by the morning papers, the murmur and indignation
of the troops that he had been permitted to pass through our lines." That is the
reason, Mudge remarked later, "...why the 11th Michigan, above all others, should
not have been at Sidney..."
The 11th had been mustered out of the army
about a month before, and when the regiment crossed the Ohio river, the amount of control
the officers exercised over the men was tenuous, at best. After traveling to Indianapolis,
the men changed trains and journeyed to Sidney, where they were slated to catch a
northbound train for Sturgis, Michigan. Just outside of Sidney, the train stopped so that
Mudge could consult with his quartermaster, whom he had sent ahead to check on
transportation arrangements in Sidney. The worried quartermaster reported that of all
people, Vallandigham was scheduled to speak in Sidney that very afternoon on the same
platform with Vice- presidential candidate Pendleton. Mudge knew there would be trouble.
The
Democrats in Sidney, looking forward to hearing the distinguished Democratic speakers,
were unaware of the potential powder keg that was headed to Sidney from the west, in the
form of the 11th. The Michiganders arrived in Sidney at 9 am on September 24. As Mudge
cautiously unloaded his men from the train onto the platform, he learned that they could
not catch a northbound train until 4 PM. Seven hours in town with Vallandigham and
Pendleton was a recipe for disaster. The regimental history of the 11th Michigan records
that the editor of the town's Republican newspaper, the Sidney Journal, met the men
of the 11th, invited them to lunch served by the young ladies of Sidney, and reminded the
soldiers to cheer for Lincoln during Vallandigham's speech.
No sooner had the men disembarked, than the train from Cincinnati carrying Pendleton
and his cohort arrived from Dayton. Immediately, a cannon was fired in honor of the
speakers for the day. At the first report of the gun, Mudge's men surrounded him saying,
as he later recalled, "That cannon is being fired in honor of Vallandigham. For
God's sake Colonel let us charge that battery." Mudge struggled to keep control
of his men, assuring them that he would take charge of the situation.
The Democrats in the town remembered things differently. In editorials that appeared in
the Shelby County Democrat on May 26 and July 28, 1893, the editor commented that
the people of Sidney were receiving the Vice-presidential candidate in "a proper
and orderly manner. Mudge led the (soldiers) in cheering for candidates to whom
they knew the crowd in town that day were politically opposed, and tried to provoke that
crowd by calling for groans for one of the prominent speakers." Some of his men
were "intoxicated."
As the speakers prepared to ride to the place where the assembly was being held, the
soldiers, armed with their weapons, lined the street where the carriage was passing. As
the speakers went by, the men commenced firing squibs and blank cartridges, with the real
possibility of a bullet or two being mixed in. Col. Mudge recalled "I did not
think the carriage could pass the line, and the occupants survive."
Mudge quickly bolted in front of his men, shouting "Now boys three cheers for
Lincoln, now groans for Vallandigham." His men took off their hats, and thus
stopped loading their rifles. At the same time, with a nod of his head, he directed the
driver of the carriage to take a right turn down a side street, avoiding the rest of his
regiment. By this act, Mudge felt he had saved the lives of Vallandigham and Pendleton.
Before his men knew what had happened, the
carriage deposited the two frightened men into the interior of one of Sidney's hotels.
Members of the Michigan regiment recalled searching the hotel from top to bottom, not
finding the two, and thinking they had escaped out the back. Disaster had been narrowly
averted. Outside, frustration and anger among the Union soldiers was building.
At the
same time, the cannon was still booming at the railroad depot. Mudge marched his men to
the other depot, to wait for the next northbound train. In doing so, the 11th passed the
depot where the cannon was still firing. As they marched by, a number of the soldiers
broke ranks, surrounded the cannon, dismantled it quickly, and seized two nearby flag
stands.
There was a young industrialist named Philip
Smith in Sidney at the time of the war. He was in the foundry business. Smith's
foundrymen had cast a 500 pound cannon. It is unclear if the piece was to be used for
engagements or for purely ceremonial purposes. In any event, it was Smith's cannon that
had honored Vallandigham, and it was Smith's cannon that was now in mortal danger of being
kidnapped.
Mudge addressed his men, telling them that he had no love for the traitor Vallandigham,
but "...as a defender of this country and its laws, I cannot and will not allow
you to engage in any mob violence here today." Telling them that committing any
outrages In Sidney would hurt Lincoln's chances for reelection, Mudge concluded: "We
must not make martyrs of these men. You have already captured their cannon, of which I
neither approve nor disapprove."
Those present from Sidney remember these events somewhat differently. In later
accounts, the local version went as follows: The soldiers quickly rushed to the hotel, and
demanded Vallandigham's surrender. More than two thousand local citizens immediately
rallied outside the hotel, armed, and waited for the soldiers to attack. Mayor S.B. Walker
rushed to the scene, and urged the Union boys to put down their arms. Everyone was
relieved. Everyone except Philip Smith. He had not succeeded in the competitive foundry
business without forging a determination never to lose. He wanted to get his cannon back.
It is safe to say that as far as Philip Smith was concerned, the great Ohio-Michigan
rivalry had just begun.
The Democrat reported the rest of the story almost thirty years later in its May
26, 1893, edition. Smith and a friend, Frederick Martz, traveled to Sturgis, Michigan to
take back the cannon. Shortly after word of their arrival in town spread, members of the
disbanded 11th nearly mobbed them. Still determined, Smith sought refuge in the law. He
hired a local attorney and obtained a court order entitling him to his cannon. As he left
his lawyer's office, Smith observed a team of horses and a rider, dragging his cannon
behind them coming down the street. Smith and Martz dashed off in pursuit, and arrived
shortly at the shore of the local lake.
They watched helplessly as the
Michiganders dumped the cannon off the back of a boat they had rowed a quarter of a mile
out in the lake. After the departure of Smith and Martz, the local soldiers hired a diver
to retrieve the cannon from the water. According the memoirs of Daniel Rose, a veteran of
the 11th Michigan, it was used in local Fourth of July celebrations, weddings and reunions
for years afterward, until it burst during a celebration in Centerville, Michigan in 1891.
An
article in the Shelby County Democrat on May 26, 1893, reported on the demise of
the cannon. It ended with this statement: "Mr. Smith is of the opinion that he is
entitled to a piece of the gun, and will endeavor to get it." Thus ended Sidney's
only brush with hostilities in the Civil War.
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This is the flag of the 11th Michigan Volunteer Infantry. |
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