DOB/DOD: October 14, 1845 (Montville, CT) – November 17, 1901 (New Haven, CT); 56 years old
MARITAL STATUS: Elvira A. Grover (1846-1929)
CHILDREN: One son, Charles N. (1869-?). Three daughters, Eunice G. (1873-), Emma G. (1874-), and Ola S. (1890-).
ENLISTMENT: August 6, 1862, in Montville, Connecticut, at just 16 years old.
DISCHARGE: September 24, 1864.
FAMILY: Born to William H. (1821-1901) and Clarissa A. Stanton Palmer (1820-1880). Two brothers, William H. (1843-1916) and Charles S. (1852-1862). Two sisters, Clarissa M. (1847-1882) and Marian E. Palmer Markham (1849-1928).
OTHER: One of five members of the 21st Connecticut to receive the Medal of Honor.
A descendant of Private Matthew Turner (1733-1824), who served in Captain George Markham’s Connecticut Troops in 1781. A member of the Sons of the American Revolution.
MEDAL OF HONOR CITATION
AWARDED FOR ACTIONS DURING: Civil War
BRANCH OF SERVICE: Army
UNIT: Company F, 21st Connecticut Infantry
DATE OF ISSUE AND PRESENTATION: October 30, 1896 (34 years later)
AGE ON THE DAY OF THE EVENT: 17
CITATION:
The President of the United States of America, in the name of Congress, takes pleasure in presenting the Medal of Honor to Corporal John Gideon Palmer, United States Army, for extraordinary heroism on 13 December 1862, while serving with Company F, 21st Connecticut Infantry, in action at Fredericksburg, Virginia. Corporal Palmer was the first of six men who volunteered to assist the gunner of a battery upon which the enemy was concentrating its fire and fought with the battery until the close of the engagement. His commanding officer felt he would never see this man alive again.
From Beyer, W. F., & Keydel, O. F. (2000). Deeds of valor: How America’s Civil War Heroes won The Congressional Medal of Honor. Smithmark Publishers.
An example of dashing bravery and courage, which General Daniel E. Sickles designates “a heroic act,” was furnished by Corporal John G. Palmer and Private Wallace A. Beckwith of Company F, Twenty-first Connecticut Infantry. The story is interestingly told by Corporal Palmer:
“At the time of Burnside’s great battle of Fredericksburg, I was a boy seventeen years of age and a member of Company F, Twenty-first Connecticut Infantry. We were held in reserve in the streets of the city until the last afternoon of the desperate fight. At 4:30 P.M., we received a hurry order to go to the support of the Second Division. Away we went, glad to take an active part, as we had been under fire more or less for two or three days. As soon as we cleared the streets of the city, we were exposed to a perfect shower of bullets and exploding shells from a general attack which was now taking place all along the front. Amidst this terrible fire we formed and moved rapidly towards the line of battle, our company marching for two or three blocks through the backyards of houses and dwellings. We had a most lively time pulling up and scaling numerous fences to keep up with that part of the line which was meeting with less obstructions. We advanced to the scene of operations until the right of the regiment reached the railroad at the depot, the line extending to the left through some brick kilns. A light battery of four pieces, situated on a low ridge in front of the left of the regiment, was shelling the enemy, whose fronts were near, as fast as they could fire their guns.
“We were ordered to lie down, which we did in short order, and settled ourselves into the soft clay of the brickyard, which offered some degree of shelter from the iron and lead which were flying so furiously around and dangerously near our heads.
“After a time, the fire slackened. Our assault had met with a bloody repulse. Maneuvers were immediately ordered with a view of making one more grand final charge and ending the battle.
“As the attack ceased and the firing had become desultory, I raised up on my elbows; the colors of the regiment brushed my face. Pushing the flag aside, I glanced up and down the line. Our regiment appeared like two rows of dead men, everyone except the colonel, with his head face down in the mud as low as possible.
“Presently, the captain of a battery came running towards our regiment and hurriedly saluting the colonel, said: ‘For God’s sake, colonel, give me six men, quick, tho know something about firing a gun. I haven’t men enough left to work my battery in the coming charge.’
“Our colonel faced the colors and repeated the call. Though I was the youngest member of the company, I had heard and seen enough for several days, and especially during the previous hour, to know the seriousness of the situation, to realize the probable consequences of the act, and to compare the exposure on the knoll with the safety of the shelter of the brick kilns.
“It took but a few moments for me to determine what to do. By the time the colonel had pronounced the word ‘men,’ I stepped from the ranks, closely followed by Comrade Beckwith and four others. We had but a few moments to look over the field and receive instructions from the sergeant when the captain, reading the signals from the church belfry, gave the order to stand by the guns, ready for action.
“The troops that were selected to make the final attack moved forward to the charge.
“Suddenly, the enemy opened with every gun and musket that could be brought to bear. As we occupied the only rise of ground on our side and were the only battery in action on our left, we found that several of the enemy’s batteries were paying us particular attention and that we had to take their concentrated fire. The battle grew more fierce.
“Twilight came on; twilight passed to darkness. It was a grand and awe-inspiring spectacle – one mighty and thundering roar.
“Around us rained a perfect shower of bullets, which completely riddled a board fence in front of the knoll. They struck the guns and splintered the spokes of the wheels.
Shells exploded constantly over and around us and knocked down several of my comrades. Many officers and men were killed, and a great number, including several in my own regiment, were wounded in our immediate rear. We kept our little battery
barking. Our commander said that our shells were bursting squarely in the ranks of the enemy, but our army could not accomplish the impossible. The heights were too strong with earthworks, cannons, and men, and the assault ended the battle for the night.
“We lived through the entire attack uninjured. Sunday morning, the captain of the battery thanked us heartily for our services and told us to return to our regiment. Our colonel said, as he received us: ‘I am proud of my men.'”
Fredericksburg. – In December 1862, General Burnside, superseding McClellan as commander-in-chief of the Union Army, directed an attack against Fredericksburg, Virginia, on the southern bank of the Rappahannock. The town is situated on the steep slopes of one of the three wooded terraces in the narrow valley. The battle took place on the second terrace, while on the third, the enemy under Lee had gathered a force of 90,000 men.
Burnside, stationed at Falmouth, was occupied from December 11 to 13 in building bridges and throwing across the river the two divisions of Franklin and Sumner. On the 13th, assaults were made by these divisions, which were repulsed with great loss. Hooker, ordered across, had the same experience. The Union troops were gathered at Fredericksburg and withdrawn across the river.
Burnside’s losses amounted to 13,000 men, while the Confederate loss was not more than a third of that number.
From the Hartford Courant November 19, 1901
John G. Palmer, superintendent of the Arawana Mills in Middletown, died Sunday morning at the home of his son-in-law, Harvey Howard, in New Haven, where he had been for a few days for treatment. He had suffered for some time from cirrhosis of the liver. He was a prominent businessman, a member of the board of trade, and, for several years, a member of the board of education. He had also served on the common council. He was born at Montville, October 4, 1845, and enlisted as a corporal in Company F, Twenty-first Connecticut Volunteers on August 6, 1862, and was discharged on November 30, 1865, at Charleston, South Carolina, by expiration of term of service, having been transferred to the Second Company Provisional Cavalry, Veteran Reserve Corps, September 24, 1864, at Washington, D.C. Mr. Palmer was in the Battles of Fredericksburg, Virginia, the sieges of Suffolk and Bermuda Hundred, and was disabled January 24, 1864, at Brandon Farms, Virginia by a left inguinal hernia, and was in several hospitals before he was discharged. Corporal Palmer was one of the few men who was especially honored by Congress by receiving the Medal of Honor for distinguished bravery in battle aside from regular duty. This was won by bravery at the Battle of Fredericksburg. Phillips’s Massachusetts Battery was at an important point, and all its men were killed or wounded. Volunteers were called for, and Mr. Palmer served on that battery during the battle and helped to save the day. The following are the principal points in his military record: He served in three branches of the Army: Twenty-first Connecticut Volunteers, Phillips’s Massachusetts Battery, and Second Company, Provincial Cavalry, Veteran Reserve Corps. He served with this company as President Lincoln’s bodyguard in the latter part of the war. He was detached by special orders, No. 8 War Department, on January 5, 1865, to accompany Major General D.E. Sickles on a diplomatic mission — to Bogota, United States of Colombia. He also served in a confidential position with General Sickles in Boston until September 1865. Afterward, he was at Charleston, South Carolina, until he was discharged. Mr. Palmer was a member of Mansfield Post, Grand Army of the Republic, of Middletown, and in 1893, was an aide on the staff of the National Commander. Last year, he was President of the Twenty-first Regimental Association. He was also a member of St. John’s Lodge, No, 2, A.F. and AM [Free and Accepted Masons], and Mattabesset Council, Royal Arcanum, of Middletown. Mr. Palmer is survived by a father, W. H. Palmer of Middletown; a brother, ex-Senator W. H. Palmer of Norwich, an uncle, I.E. Palmer of Middletown, with whom he had been associated since the close of the War, a wife, two daughters, Mrs. Harvey Howard of New Haven, and Miss Ola of Middletown, and a son, Charles. The funeral will be held this afternoon at his home on Lincoln Street, Middletown, with Reverend E.C. Acheson officiating, and the interment will be in Indian Hill Cemetery.
Buried in Indian Hill Cemetery, 209 Vine Street, Middletown, Connecticut; GAR plot. Photos by Jeff DeWitt.
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