DUNCAN & ELLIS LINES continued

INDEX

SIXTH GENERATION

36. Silas Parrish (later changed to Duncan)

37. Rosetta Ellis


 		 

In ABT 1847 (36) Silas Duncan and his family removed to Milford, Jefferson, WI. After his wife died, he lived there until about 1851, when he left his three sons with friends and moved north to Parfreyville (Crystal Lake), Waupaca, WI. He was there in 1860, when his son (37iv) James "Eugene" Duncan, looked him up. Silas' second wife, Elizabeth Mills, apparently died the following winter. Elizabeth was b. in MA, according to the 1860 Census. Ruth M. Sherman, b. 1818/19 MA, was also a member of the household in 1860, and a John Forbes b. 1851/52 was living with the Duncans in 1870. Silas married the third time the following Spring, shortly before two of his sons enlisted and fought at Shiloh. Around 1870, (36) Silas and his third wife, (36[2]) Anna travelled to North Dakota with (37iv) Eugene's family and members of the Nelson, Forbes and Clarke families. They lived there for several years before returning to Wisconsin. While there, Eugene's wife, (37iv[1]) Emily wrote to (37iii) Charles & Lydia Duncan, who were then living in Wood Co., WI:

"Dear Brother and Sister: I should have written before but we have had so much trouble. Rhoda is dead, poor girl. She suffered every thing. She was very patient... Oh Lydia, I hope you will never see the trouble we have seen in Dakota. When Mother ([36{2}] Anna) and (36) Silas came here there wasn't a person for miles. We came next and then John (Forbes [1851-1908], Emily's brother). He left Rhoda (Mrs. Forbes) at Aunt Fanny (prob Nelson's until he could build. Oh Lydia, it was so hard to see poor little Arthur die and no doctor. Poor little darling, it was so hard to give him up. Mother came over and stayed with us the night he died. John and Mr. Peabody came down that night with a load of lumber. He (prob. (37iv_f) Arthur) drove with Eugene and John to Lisbon and was going to stay with Mother and me but he got lost and wandered all night in the cold rain. You don't know what it is to be lost on the parairie in the night.

"Eugene was gone two days. Aunt Fanny and Burt (Nelson, Fanny's brother) came back with him. It snowed and rained so hard they had to hold a quilt over her head all the way. The water was so deep in some places it would run in the bottom of the wagon box. The wind blew so hard I expected every minute the house would go over. I have never seen one happy moment since the baby died. I know if we had stayed in Centralia we would have him yet..."

-- Dear Cousins, 1961 E. T. Tobey Co., compiled by Pearl Duncan Larmoyeux
 

 
 

American Civil War Soldiers Record c/o Ancestry.com:

S h i l o h

(37iv) James "Eugene" Duncan composed the following poem about the Battle of Shiloh, in which he and his brother, (18) Henry Alfred Duncan, fought:

  • There's a lone place beside the mild Tennessee
  • That shall live long in history rare.
  • 'Tis a spot where each willow, each flower and tree
  • Stand mourning the dead who lie there.

  • The green mounds to view, the stranger well knows,
  • Enshrine now a once patriot band;
  • And honor comes up in memory of those
  • Who died under Hallack's command.

  • Ah yes, there beneath the sod and the mould
  • Lie the honored remains of the dead;
  • And pages of valor shall yet be unrolled
  • Of those who for country have bled.

  • 'Tis a story oft' told, in the years that have fled,
  • Yet I think of it now as alone.
  • My spirit bows down when I think of the dead
  • In the graves of the soldiers unknown.

  • I think of my comerades who fell on the sod
  • At my side on that terrible day,
  • And I still hear the cries of the wounded, "O God!",
  • As they sank in the midst of the fray.

  • I was only fifteen, and knew not at all
  • The consequent perils of war;
  • But I knew that our country had issued the call,
  • And I shouldered the musket to stand or to fall,
  • Regardless of bullet or scar.

  • 'Twas morn' when the April sun shone on the few
  • Scattered guards 'round the host in repose,
  • When the first fatal shot and smoke rose to view
  • As a sign of advancing foes.

  • The answering guns from our pickets broke out
  • In volleys that seemed but as one.
  • We could tell on our front, by the rush and the shout,
  • That the battle of Shiloe was on.

  • On came the wild foe, that outnumbered our host,
  • Like a storm o'er the face of the deep;
  • And the musketry roll on the smoke-laden air
  • Told hundreds had gone to their sleep.

  • All day did the long roll of musketry peal,
  • While oft, in the midst of the fray,
  • The awful commands, which rose like a knell,
  • Forward! Forward! re-echoed it's spell,
  • In the hearts of the blue and the gray.

  • All day rose the cries of the wounded; all day
  • Rose the groans of the dying. Ah, then
  • Was the time when nothing on earth can portray --
  • The patriot hearts of the men.

  • The sun, in its path, shone down from on high
  • On a field that with blood had turned red.
  • It parched the dry lips of those ready to die,
  • And poured its hot rays on the dead.

  • At twilight, it sank like unquenchable fire
  • From view, behind Fasse, it's shield,
  • And the Queen of the Night, in mourning attire,
  • Stepped down as a guard o'er the field.

  • For the darkness that fell over all had a spell
  • Of terror to those who lie serene --
  • Unminded, unnursed amid hunger and thirst,
  • With pillows scarce better than stone.

  • Still, still the night deepens, and dark overhead
  • The clouds gather fast in their might;
  • And heaven's artillery, awful and dread,
  • Follows quick at each flash of the night.

  • I think of those there, in whose awful despair
  • lie wounded in scattered array:
  • Their help is their God, their bed is the sod,
  • Their thoughts are the horrible day.

  • There, on the field, lie the young and the old:
  • Some wounded, while others, at rest,
  • Seem gone with content as their hands, stiff and cold,
  • All pallid, lie crossed on their breast.

  • The rain drops that fell, in a bountiful flood,
  • Was like baptism fell from on high:
  • On those who were first baptized in their blood,
  • By the Lord were baptized from the sky!

  • For the wounds of the fallen was cleansed, and the thirst
  • Was quenched in that pitiful hour,
  • And hope in the heart of the hero is nursed:
  • That hope, which for country is power!

  • Morn dawns on the field, and new life awakes
  • With hope, on each exultant breeze;
  • And the deafening peal of the soldiers' hurrays
  • Echoes out through the rain-laden trees.

  • A few hours more, and the combat is done:
  • Stirred far beyond country and seas,
  • The flag of our country, the Stars and the Stripes,
  • Triumphantly waves on the breeze.

  • The battle is over, yet little we know
  • How soon we may fall on life's way;
  • But let us remember, wherever we go,
  • the flag of our country, and say

  • That while, by degrees, our ranks growing thin,
  • Let us cherish each other and feel
  • That we are all brothers, in one common cause,
  • And live for humanity's weal:

  • For it will not be long we can stand side-by-side,
  • And speak of those duties fulfilled,
  • Nor point to that flag, the soldiers' own pride,
  • Which so often our heroes have thrilled.

  • For Silence will spread her dark cloak on the dead;
  • On earth, we will gather no more:
  • Our bivouac grand will be pitched in that land,
  • Where the sound of the cannons' no more.

-- Written by James Eugene Duncan, 1905

INDEX

PARRISH & NATIVE AMERICAN LINES continued

ELLIS & STUBBS LINES continued

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