Cemetery's are full of stories, most of which
have become forgotten, except for those of a few people whom have become famous,
even if only locally. Beneath most stones rest ordinary individuals, some of whom
have an extraordinary story to tell. Take for example, Andrew Longley, a young man
of nineteen, who on February 25, 1864, mustered into Company C, Ninth Regiment of the Indiana
Volunteers, as a private for a three-year enlistment to fight for the Union Army during
the American Civil War. He was a farmer and lived with his parents Levi and Julia Longley
on eighty acres just a few miles south of Elkhart, where the home still stands today.
We know this. Andrew was born August 3, 1844. He was five feet six inches tall, had blond
hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and was never married. Less than three months into his service,
he was fighting near Dalton, Georgia, in the first battle of the Elanta Campaign, known
as Rocky Face Ridge by the North and Buzzards Roost by the South. He began on May 7, 1864.
One hundred thousand Union forces, led by Major General William Tecumseh Sherman, marched
into Northwest Georgia with the sole purpose of destroying Confederate Army General Joseph
E. Johnston's vastly outnumbered army of half as many troops. Hurling rocks when they ran
out of ammunition, the Confederates fought valiantly until they were overcome by the
Federals on May 13, six days after the battle began. But it was on May 12, the day before
the end of that battle, that Andrew Longley was shot through his left lung by a mini-ball
that lodged in his left shoulder. After being wounded, he was taken to a hospital in Chattanooga,
Tennessee. In Chattanooga, the hospital chaplain sent
a letter to Andrew's parents, May 16, 1864. Mr. Levi Longley, Dear Sir, your son Andrew
is a patient at this hospital. He was wounded late in the battle at Rocky Face Ridge. He
was wounded in the left shoulder. The ball, I think, is still in the shoulder. There was
no fracture, it is simply a flesh wound. He is doing remarkably fine, is in good cheer
and fine spirits. He has good nurses and a skillful surgeon. And by God's blessing,
we'll get along well, respectfully and truly, our F. DeLore chaplain.
In Chattanooga, Andrew Longley sent a letter home to his parents, May 23, 1864.
Dear Father and Mother, I am thankful to say that I can write a few lines to let you know
that I am gaining very fast. I feel tolerable easy today. I think I'll go to Nashville in
a few days. I was wounded the twelfth of this month at Buzzard Roost. He hit me in the left
shoulder. The ball lodged in my shoulder. Mother, you must have a big garden, for I
think I will be there and I will live in the garden. You must not be uneasy about me, for
I am along. From Chattanooga, Andrew was moved to Totten
General Hospital, Tent 50, and Louisville, Kentucky. From Louisville, Andrew sent a letter
home to his parents, June 6, 1864. Dear Father and Mother, I take the present
time to write you a few lines to let you know that I am gaining slow and gaining towards
home. I have to go to Louisville, Kentucky. If I was across the river, I'd be in Indiana.
I'm going to try to get a furlough in about a month when my wound heals. You must not
be uneasy about me, for I will get along all right. Well, I must quit, for I can't think
of much to write. Please write soon, for I have not heard from home for about a month.
A month after he was wounded, Andrew sent one more letter home to his parents from the
hospital in Louisville, June 17, 1864. Dear Father, I received your ever welcome
letter this morning and was very glad to hear from you. My shoulder blade is broken. The
ball is still in my shoulder. I am very weak and cannot get any food here that I can eat.
They have no variety here of anything, and what they do have is miserable. I cannot get
a furlough here, but if you were here, you could get me out. You'll find me in Tent
Fifty at Totten General Hospital.
Western Union Telegraph Company, to Levi Longley, Delcard, Indiana, from Louisville,
Kentucky, June 21, 1864. Very dangerous, can't be moved, may not live
more than three days.
On June 23, 1864, 42 days after he was shot during the Battle of Rocky Face Ridge, with
a bullet still lodged in his shoulder, Andrew Longley died of pneumonia. Levi Longley had
arrived at Andrew's side only moments after his son had died. He claimed the body, and
personal effects consisting of one wool blanket, one pair of shoes, one pair of pants, and
one shirt. The army placed the body in a sealed metal casket that it was shipped north to
Elkhart by train. Andrew was originally buried in the Oakland Cemetery south of Elkhart,
but about 1910 relatives moved his body to another cemetery, where his mother had recently
purchased plots. Andrew's sister, Frances Anna Longley, was the mother of Bernard Moore,
who owned an Elkhart well-drilling company. At the Oakland Cemetery, he placed the casket
carefully on his horse-drawn wagon, and made the two-mile journey to Prairie Street Cemetery,
where Andrew was reburied. At monuments such as this one, the owners have left us their
names, but some have left us their stories.
