Tucker, John Henry

JOHN HENRY TUCKER. Private 38th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), July 31, 1862; killed at Port Hudson, La., May 27, 1863. JOHN HENRY TUCKER was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, February 19, 1835, the son of Ebenezer and Eliza Bradley (Foster) Tucker. In his autobiography in the Class-Book he thus narrates an adventure of one of his ancestors, which linked the family traditions very closely with the Revolutionary War: "At the burning of Charlestown, in 1775, a number of families embarked in a boat to escape from the conflagration. The boat was full, and as the sailors pushed off from the shore a little girl appeared on the shore; she was the daughter of one of the women in the boat, and had been inadvertently left behind. Throwing herself into the water, the little girl endeavored to get on board, but the sailors, declaring the boat was already full, would not stop for her. Some one of the women, however, catching her hand, drew her some way through the water, and at length succeeded in getting her into the boat. That little girl, named Sally Trow, was my father's mother. What the event would have been had not the little girl been thus providentially saved, cannot be told. This little girl's father, my great-grandfather Trow, was a Captain during the war; but, incurring disease from exposure, was obliged to resign his commission, and, returning home, died before the close of the war. He was at the battle of Bunker Hill." Tucker attended school in Cambridge, and finally left the High School, as he supposed forever, in April, 1851. His mental and spiritual experiences are narrated by himself so earnestly and simply in the Class-Book, that extracts from this autobiography, written at the age of twenty-seven, will be freely made. " In February, 1850, my attention was called seriously to the subject of religion. I felt the necessity of personal piety as I never had before; and then it was, as I humbly trust, that my heart was changed by the Holy Spirit, so that, ever since, my life has been entirely different from what it was before. A complete change was wrought in me, affecting my motives as well as my outward conduct. I took an interest in many things which before I had been averse to, and I began then to have something of an aim in living, which I had not been conscious of before. Previously I had been inclined to wander from the path of rectitude, and found more delight in doing wrong than in doing right; but now I had a desire to lead an honest, upright life. In May, 1850, I became a member of the Old Cambridge Baptist Church. "I remained at the High School till April, 1851, when my father thought it best I should leave and learn a trade. Accordingly I became an apprentice to my brother, who had just established himself in business, to learn the carriage-painter's trade. Obliged to do the drudgery which, owing to the peculiar nature of the business, is very hard and disagreeable, I was much discontented for a while, and more than once partially determined to give it up, and go into something else; but as I had agreed to stay until I was of age, I finally made up my mind to be contented, and learn the trade as well as I could. As I learned more of the business, by degrees it became pleasant to me, and in due time, my apprenticeship being over, the man with whom I had worked when I became free (my brother having changed his business) offered to employ me as a journeyman at good wages; so that I probably gave him satisfaction as a workman. "In January, 1855, I joined the Mechanic Apprentices' Library Association, a society formed, as its name implies, for the benefit of the apprentices of Boston and vicinity. Here I enjoyed the privilege of reading many books which I could not get elsewhere, and, as I was fond of reading, I appreciated it highly. The few months that I was a member of this Association was the pleasantest part of my whole apprenticeship, and often have I regretted that I did not know of its existence earlier, so that I might have had the benefit of a longer membership. So anxious was I to attend the meetings of the Association, and to get books from the library, that I considered it no hardship to walk in and out from Boston in the evening twice, and often three times, a week. My connection with this institution has had a great deal of influence upon my life.... I began to entertain the idea that possibly I might at some time go to college..... " I had the honor of being elected by them to deliver the address upon the occasion of the Thirty-sixth Anniversary of the Association. I did not think that I was a suitable person to perform this duty, since I was comparatively a new member, having belonged but nine months, and had never addressed a public assembly. Accordingly I was reluctant to accept the office of orator for that occasion;,but as it seemed the universal desire that I should attempt it, I finally consented to do it, and on the evening of February 22, 1856, I delivered the address in Meionaon Hall, Boston. The subject of the address was, 'The position of the Mechanic in Society, and the Claims presented to Young Men to enter upon a Mechanical Occupation.'.... The address was afterwards printed in a pamphlet, which is the only composition of mine which has appeared in print, if I except a few short articles in the newspapers, such as, for instance, a few words upon the nomination of John C. Fr6mont for the Presidency, in the Boston Daily Chronicle, and a short reply to a correspondent in the Watchman and Reflector, who had censured antislavery lectures, and a few others which are scarcely worth alluding to. "About the time that I was twenty-one years of age I thought more seriously of renewing my studies and attempting to get a better education. I thought a good deal upon the subject, and finally concluded that I would try, thinking that, if after a few months I did not succeed as well as I expected, I could give up the idea and go back to my trade. Accordingly, when my apprenticeship had expired, with this plan in view, I only agreed to work four months as a journeyman, and in July, 1856, began upon a course of study with the intention of trying to enter college in two years. Soon finding that it was almost impossible to get along alone, and ascertaining that I could enter the High School without any difficulty, where I should have the advantage of studying with others, as well as the advantage of having the instruction of a competent teacher, having made the necessary arrangements, I entered the school in December of the same year. "..... After leaving college I think I shall study theology, intending to become a minister of the Gospel; and if I carry out the plan which I have in view, the instruction and discipline acquired while in college, I have no doubt, will prove of service to me. " The only society that I have been a member of while in college is the society of 'Christian Brethren,' to which I have belonged during the whole course. " I hope, with the blessing of God, to be successful in getting an education, and afterward to accomplish in an humble way some good in the world."
Having given up the trade to which he had applied himself so assiduously, and entered college as a preparatory step to a theological course, it is needless to say that Tucker proved himself an earnest, hard-working student, and when he graduated carried with him the wisdom and knowledge that can be gained only by faithful study. His plans for the future were now matured, and he was ready to enter the Theological Seminary at Newton, Massachusetts, when a conflict of duties arose in his mind, which is best described in a letter to a friend. "All of us ought to be willing to do what we can for our country. I did not deem it necessary to go while men enlisted so readily. Now the time seems to have come. Men are needed faster than they seem ready to volunteer. The same reasons apply to my not enlisting now that applied a year ago. I left my trade with a deep conviction that it was my duty to prepare myself to be a preacher of the Gospel. This conviction has never left me, and I have not hitherto felt it would be right to turn aside from the pursuit-of this object. But now the country is plunged into war, a terrible war, by Rebels who are seeking to overturn the government, and degrade it from being the freest government the world ever knew, to be a mere slave oligarchy. If they succeed in their hellish design, and this government is overthrown, then perishes all civil and religious liberty, our national life ceases, and nothing is left worth having. Since this is the case, the question arises, Is it not the duty of every man, to whom God has given strength and ability, to do what he can to prevent this, even to shouldering the musket and taking the field to meet force by force? If, as we are sometimes told is the case, God has placed the institutions of civil and religious freedom in the hands of the people of this nation, then do we not serve him by maintaining these institutions? And if we prove recreant to our trust, shall we not justly merit his displeasure? Life is sweet, and I suppose it is sweet to me as to most people; but I do really feel willing to offer my services to my country, place myself upon her altar, fight, and, if need be, die in her defence [sic]. I have thought it proper, in thinking of the matter, to consider that it was more than a possibility, even aproaching a strong probability, that, if I went to the war, I should be maimed, disabled for life by wounds, or contract disease which would render me a helpless dependant upon friends, if I was not killed; and I have asked myself if the cause demanded this of me. I admit that it does of many young men, but does it of me, situated as I am, about to commence a course of theological study? I have patriotism enough to lead me to make any sacrifice of time, substance, life itself, for my beloved country. I wish to go to the relief of my fellow-citizens, almost worn out with their severe campaign. It seems ignoble for me to remain here at home, resting in inglorious ease, while many better men than I am, or can ever hope to be, are bravely defending my country's rights and honor. Shall I be any the less doing right, by becoming a soldier and helping to fight my country's battles, than are those thousands of clergymen and good men of the North, who are doing all they can to induce young men to enlist?" He wrote in his journal at this time: "It is not congenial to my tastes to go to war, but it seems now as though all who love their country ought to be willing to take up arms in its defence.... I hope I shall be faithful in the performance of my duty when on the battle-field." On the 3ist of July, 1862, he enlisted as a private in Company F of the Thirty-eighth Massachusetts Volunteers, and was mustered into the United States service on the 13th of August following, passing his time, meanwhile, in hurried farewell visits to friends in Maine and New Hampshire. On reporting at Camp Cameron, being then disabled by a painful sore upon his right hand, he received a furlough, which was afterwards extended till the departure of the regiment; and he was thus enabled to take part in the many war meetings in Cambridge and vicinity, and his stirring appeals were eloquent, because heartfelt. When the regiment reached Camp Belger, near Baltimore, the need of a chaplain was severely felt, and some concerted action was taken, but to no effect, except to draw out and bind more closely together a band who thenceforward constituted the "church" of the regiment. Services were held every Sunday morning by the Colonel, and in the afternoon by a private soldier. Other meetings were instituted, and continued till the regiment was so depleted in numbers, by sickness and death, that but a very few of the original attendants remained. In these meetings Tucker was always prominent, dividing the charge with the comrade before mentioned; and as he added the influence of his private life to that of his exhortations, he was well known in the regiment as "the peacemaker." In a paper which he had read before the Irving Literary Association in Cambridge, a short time previous to his departure, he had contrasted the causes of the Revolutionary War with those of the present struggle; depicting in a striking manner the steadfast determination of the heroes of former days to overcome all obstacles and make every sacrifice; and declaring that of such material alone should the new army of liberty be composed. Being himself of a strong constitution (though short in stature), inured in some measure by the toil of past years to the arduous service he was now to perform, and, above all, being of a cheerful, uncomplaining spirit, disposed to compromise with every necessary inconvenience, he was far better fitted for the severe duties, exposure, and accumulating privations of the campaign in Louisiana than might be supposed. He went through the first advance on Port Hudson and the Teche campaign, without losing a day's duty or being once under the surgeon's care; though he had a narrow escape at Fort Bisland, where a shot from the enemy marked in its course the very spot where he had just been resting, and from which he had but slightly moved. In a letter to a messmate, who had been left behind at Algiers on account of sickness, he writes: "If we should be called on again to meet the enemy, I hope it will not be till after you are with us, so that, as we have been together so long ' in city and in camp,' we may have it to say, that we have been on the battle-field together. But I am not very anxious, individually, to again go into battle; not that I am afraid, but really I cannot understand the pleasure of shooting at these unfortunate men, who are fighting against us more from necessity than from choice. If there is any other way of bringing them to terms, even by marches so long that our past ones would be but pleasant walks, surely, for the sake of humanity alone, it is preferable." On the morning of the second day of the fight at Bisland, he received the news of the death of a brother at home; and a few days after he parted with another, an elder brother, who had enlisted in the same regiment, and was then serving as hospital steward, having had a practical medical experience of several years in Cambridge. Their parents were destined to lose three sons within the short space of four months. Members of the same church, they were earnest colaborers in every good cause. Now, for the first time since leaving home, they must forego each other's presence and assistance; now for the first time were they to meet sickness and suffering without that precious antidote, - so precious when away from home, - a brother's watchful care. They parted, to meet no more on earth; the one, on his way to the hospital and to the grave; the other, marching on to the battlefield. The Army of the Gulf, having driven the Rebels out of sight, left Alexandria, and arrived in the rear of Port-Hudson on the 23d of May, 1863, and after a skirmish on the 25th, in which the Thirty-eighth Massachusetts was engaged, a general assault was ordered on the 27th. On the morning of the 27th the Thirty-eighth was ordered to support Duryea's battery, which was in position on the edge of the woods in front of the Rebel works. In a short time after the troops were thrown forward, the skirmishers, having worked their way up to the ditch, were seen running up the embankment, and the fire from the enemy had almost ceased. In the words of an eyewitness: — "It was generally believed that the outer line of works had been abandoned, and the regiment, issuing from the rear of the battery, formed in line of battle, and charged on the double-quick; but, on account of the ravines and fallen timber on each side the roadway, the line of battle could not be maintained, and the order was given, 'By the right flank,' which movement was immediately executed. Another regiment, in advance, through some misapprehension, did not move forward, and the two commands were badly mixed up, the colors being nearly side by side. By this time, the breastworks were fully manned, and a volley of musketry met the advancing column; but there was no hesitation, when, to the surprise of the regiment, the order came to 'lie down.' Accustomed to obey orders promptly, the men dropped at once, some in the roadway, others in the ravines to the right and left. And now the enemy had it all their own way; safe behind their works, they took deliberate aim at every man in that exposed position who showed signs of life." Company F was in the direct line of fire, down the road from the works, and it seemed a miracle that but few were wounded. Tucker was the first on the list. He was struck by a ball in the left shoulder; and, after being helped into a ravine a few rods to the rear, remained there for two hours before it was possible to get a stretcher so far to the front to convey him to the field hospital. His nearest comrades meanwhile endeavored to make his last hours as easy as possible. Upon the surgeon's examination it was found that the ball had glanced inward from the shoulder-blade to the lungs, and no care could save or help him. He died in an hour after he was brought in; dying as quietly as if falling asleep. In answer to a comrade he said that his hurt was very painful; yet from beginning to end there was not a groan, not a murmur. A peculiar coincidence of dates should be here mentioned. On the 3d of March previous, the company to which he belonged wished to send a letter of condolence to the family of their former First Sergeant, afterwards Sergeant-Major, then just deceased. Tucker was on the committee, and not knowing that another member was then writing the letter, wrote a hurried draft for one in his diary, taking the precaution to write on pages several months ahead. After his death, his friends were astonished, when reading his daily notes, written up to the night before the battle, to find upon turning the leaf that his own hand had unintentionally inserted an obituary most appropriate for himself, under the date of May 27, speaking in warm praise of " his worth as a friend, his excellence as a soldier," and expressing "the hope that his example of cheerful endurance of the discomforts of a soldier's life and faithful performance of a soldier's duty may not be lost upon us." The following extract from a letter written by a comrade to the Cambridge Chronicle, met a heartfelt response from all who knew him, either in the regiment or at home. " Our first attack upon Port Hudson cost us the life of one well known in Cambridge for his literary acquirements and Christian labors..... No one came into the army with purer motives of patriotism; no one more devoted to the cause of his country; and no one more prepared for entrance into 'that undiscovered bourn.' A friendship of many years was made yet closer by the intimacy of camp life; and our connection as messmates and chosen friends, sleeping under the same blanket, reading the same books, taking the same walks, acquainted with each other's friends at home, and having many tastes in common, justify me in asserting that I never knew a truer friend, a nobler or more self-sacrificing patriot, a more modest possessor of true merit, a more honest fulfiller of all supposed obligations, a better example of true manly character, or a more upright Christian and faithful exponent of true Christianity." In the following spring, the Irving Literary Association, of which he had been an active and a loved and honored member,- twice holding its highest office, -made arrangements for bringing home the bodies of the brothers Tucker, and were aided cheerfully and liberally by the Class of 1862, and by the church which had lost two faithful members. By the assistance of the friend and messmate before mentioned, now an officer in the Eighty-eighth United States Colored Troops, the arrangements were successfully carried out, after once failing by reason of an unexpected attack from a large force of the enemy, which drove in the pickets, and scattered those who were searching for the grave, where a summer's growth had utterly transformed the spot. The remains of the two brothers arrived in Cambridge, Friday, May 6; and two days after, impressive services were held in the Old Cambridge Baptist Church, by Rev. Mr. Annable, who took for his text the dying charge of King David to Solomon, "Show thyself a man." The past and present members of the Irving Literary Association attended in a body, accompanied by college and regimental associates of the deceased. The military organizations of Cambridge performed escort duty, and many citizens assembled to do honor to the memory of the brave. Side by side before the altar lay the two coffins; and side by side, in the cemetery, lie the two graves, with the inscriptions, " HOME AT LAST.' " REST IN PEACE."