Henry Jordan Rogers, son of Asa Graves and Sarah Ann Paulina Rogers, died May 11, 1912 of locked bowels, at his home near Goodlettsville, Tennessee, and was buried in Spring Hill Cemetery, near Nashville, Tennessee.
CONFEDERATE SOLDIER
WRITTEN BY BENJAMIN DUGGAN ROGERS, ABOUT HIS BROTHER AND FELLOW CONFEDERATE SOLDIER HENRY J. ROGERS
Henry Jordan Rogers, second son of Asa Graves and Sarah Ann Paulina Rogers, was the best Rogers I ever saw. He was born a good boy, he lived a good life – a Christian gentleman who never utterd an oath in his life. I cannot remember the time when we did not wear each others clothes, and I, being the younger, he gave way to me at all times. We grew up like twins, going to school together. One hot day in 1864, I went home from school with a neighbor boy and while there, Confederate soldiers of our organization came by and told us Wheeler was camped in Lebanon. Early the next morning I took horse to schoolhouse and gathered my books to go to army. As I mounted to leave he said, "Tell Mother to get my clothes ready, I am going with you".
I told Mother I was going to the army and delivered brother Jordan's message. My mother burst into tears and said that I had given her more trouble than all of her boys put together. I hung my head in shame and rode forth to buy an extra pistol; went to a friend and gave him one hundred dollars for a Colt navy pistol for brother Jordan. Approaching home near sundown, I met my father leading a fine horse with cavalry saddle and bridle which he had paid the sum of one hundred and fifty dollars for brother Jordan. That night Mother and sisters prepared our clothes, packed our saddle bags and haversacks. Next morning, we kissed mother and the girls, bade them goodbye and joined Company B, Fourth Tennessee Cavalry and rode elbow to elbow, knee to knee on the march, in the bivouac and in the battle with the older soldiers. All but two of these boys lived up to the test. On October 2, 1864, B.D. Rogers was desperately wounded. He had been shot on the skirmish line and returning through our lines passed Jordan who was loading and firing.
He said, "Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Are you bleeding?"
"No."
"Get to rear."
I went to the regimental hospital, had a row with surgeon and he refused to dress my wound. I mounted my horse and rode into the village of Saltville, Virginia, to the house that had been general headquarters. That night, after the battle when the enemy had withdrawn, my cousin, Tom Eddins and brother Jordan hunted me up and found me on second floor without pillow or blanket and with a rising fever and exhausted. He sat by me on the floor and watched all night; gave me water and bathed my head. Next morning, early, Jordan helped me downstairs to bench on front porch. I insisted that he bring my horse and let me ride in line of march; he objected. Col. Breckenridge of the ninth Kentucky who was seated on porch overhearing conversation between brothers, became interested and asked to see wound.
He told me that I could not go and must go to the hospital. Tom Eddins, coming up about this time to see how I had spent the night assisted brother Jordan in taking me to depot, lifted me into boxcar, seated me on the straw and hurried off to join the regiment in pursuit of the enemy – which pursuit for three days proved futile. On seating me in car, there were a number of dead men on right and left. I turned blanket down on one, only to find a friend and acquaintance, lieutenant Tom Welt of White County, and the next was Captain George Carter, another friend and acquaintance of White County, both of which had been killed the day before.
I was carried thence to Emory and Henry College (hospital) and turned over to the tender mercies of J.B. Murphy of Murfreesboro, and Dr. Montague of Virginia. On the third or fourth day, the Confederates retreating across the mountains, General Dibrell and his Tennessee friends came up to the hospital to see boys wounded. Amongst others, Brother Jord, Tom Eddins, and Dick Stroud were gathered round my bed. General Dibrell who knew us well said, "My boy, where did they hit you?" I showed him and he wept, "My boy, what can I do for you?" I replied, "Leave one of the boys with me a little while." "Do you want your brother?" "No, General, he'll have to fight for both of us from now on." So he left my good friend Dick Stroud who nursed me a month. Brother Jord was a hard rider and never kept horses long. I, having a fine horse, gave it to him and it was afterward killed under him. From that day to the close of the war, he was known as one of the most desperately brave soldiers in entire regiment; never missed a battle, a charge, a forlorn hope during his ten Months service; he had three horses killed under him. He was mustered out at Thomasville, Georgia in April 1864, with a marvelous fighting record; got home the twentieth day of May. I got home the twenty-ninth day of May following. Brother Jord was engaged to Nora Willis, an orphan girl, reared by D. D.C. Kelly's mother. The Kelly's objected. He was married to Nora the first week in June "65". He lived a hard working, God-fearing man till May 1912, when he went to his reward.
Benjamin Duggan Rogers
Lebanon, Tennessee
CONFEDERATE SOLDIER
WRITTEN BY BENJAMIN DUGGAN ROGERS, ABOUT HIS BROTHER AND FELLOW CONFEDERATE SOLDIER HENRY J. ROGERS
Henry Jordan Rogers, second son of Asa Graves and Sarah Ann Paulina Rogers, was the best Rogers I ever saw. He was born a good boy, he lived a good life – a Christian gentleman who never utterd an oath in his life. I cannot remember the time when we did not wear each others clothes, and I, being the younger, he gave way to me at all times. We grew up like twins, going to school together. One hot day in 1864, I went home from school with a neighbor boy and while there, Confederate soldiers of our organization came by and told us Wheeler was camped in Lebanon. Early the next morning I took horse to schoolhouse and gathered my books to go to army. As I mounted to leave he said, "Tell Mother to get my clothes ready, I am going with you".
I told Mother I was going to the army and delivered brother Jordan's message. My mother burst into tears and said that I had given her more trouble than all of her boys put together. I hung my head in shame and rode forth to buy an extra pistol; went to a friend and gave him one hundred dollars for a Colt navy pistol for brother Jordan. Approaching home near sundown, I met my father leading a fine horse with cavalry saddle and bridle which he had paid the sum of one hundred and fifty dollars for brother Jordan. That night Mother and sisters prepared our clothes, packed our saddle bags and haversacks. Next morning, we kissed mother and the girls, bade them goodbye and joined Company B, Fourth Tennessee Cavalry and rode elbow to elbow, knee to knee on the march, in the bivouac and in the battle with the older soldiers. All but two of these boys lived up to the test. On October 2, 1864, B.D. Rogers was desperately wounded. He had been shot on the skirmish line and returning through our lines passed Jordan who was loading and firing.
He said, "Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Are you bleeding?"
"No."
"Get to rear."
I went to the regimental hospital, had a row with surgeon and he refused to dress my wound. I mounted my horse and rode into the village of Saltville, Virginia, to the house that had been general headquarters. That night, after the battle when the enemy had withdrawn, my cousin, Tom Eddins and brother Jordan hunted me up and found me on second floor without pillow or blanket and with a rising fever and exhausted. He sat by me on the floor and watched all night; gave me water and bathed my head. Next morning, early, Jordan helped me downstairs to bench on front porch. I insisted that he bring my horse and let me ride in line of march; he objected. Col. Breckenridge of the ninth Kentucky who was seated on porch overhearing conversation between brothers, became interested and asked to see wound.
He told me that I could not go and must go to the hospital. Tom Eddins, coming up about this time to see how I had spent the night assisted brother Jordan in taking me to depot, lifted me into boxcar, seated me on the straw and hurried off to join the regiment in pursuit of the enemy – which pursuit for three days proved futile. On seating me in car, there were a number of dead men on right and left. I turned blanket down on one, only to find a friend and acquaintance, lieutenant Tom Welt of White County, and the next was Captain George Carter, another friend and acquaintance of White County, both of which had been killed the day before.
I was carried thence to Emory and Henry College (hospital) and turned over to the tender mercies of J.B. Murphy of Murfreesboro, and Dr. Montague of Virginia. On the third or fourth day, the Confederates retreating across the mountains, General Dibrell and his Tennessee friends came up to the hospital to see boys wounded. Amongst others, Brother Jord, Tom Eddins, and Dick Stroud were gathered round my bed. General Dibrell who knew us well said, "My boy, where did they hit you?" I showed him and he wept, "My boy, what can I do for you?" I replied, "Leave one of the boys with me a little while." "Do you want your brother?" "No, General, he'll have to fight for both of us from now on." So he left my good friend Dick Stroud who nursed me a month. Brother Jord was a hard rider and never kept horses long. I, having a fine horse, gave it to him and it was afterward killed under him. From that day to the close of the war, he was known as one of the most desperately brave soldiers in entire regiment; never missed a battle, a charge, a forlorn hope during his ten Months service; he had three horses killed under him. He was mustered out at Thomasville, Georgia in April 1864, with a marvelous fighting record; got home the twentieth day of May. I got home the twenty-ninth day of May following. Brother Jord was engaged to Nora Willis, an orphan girl, reared by D. D.C. Kelly's mother. The Kelly's objected. He was married to Nora the first week in June "65". He lived a hard working, God-fearing man till May 1912, when he went to his reward.
Benjamin Duggan Rogers
Lebanon, Tennessee
Henry Jordan Rogers, son of Asa Graves and Sarah Ann Paulina Rogers, died May 11, 1912 of locked bowels, at his home near Goodlettsville, Tennessee, and was buried in Spring Hill Cemetery, near Nashville, Tennessee.
CONFEDERATE SOLDIER
WRITTEN BY BENJAMIN DUGGAN ROGERS, ABOUT HIS BROTHER AND FELLOW CONFEDERATE SOLDIER HENRY J. ROGERS
Henry Jordan Rogers, second son of Asa Graves and Sarah Ann Paulina Rogers, was the best Rogers I ever saw. He was born a good boy, he lived a good life – a Christian gentleman who never utterd an oath in his life. I cannot remember the time when we did not wear each others clothes, and I, being the younger, he gave way to me at all times. We grew up like twins, going to school together. One hot day in 1864, I went home from school with a neighbor boy and while there, Confederate soldiers of our organization came by and told us Wheeler was camped in Lebanon. Early the next morning I took horse to schoolhouse and gathered my books to go to army. As I mounted to leave he said, "Tell Mother to get my clothes ready, I am going with you".
I told Mother I was going to the army and delivered brother Jordan's message. My mother burst into tears and said that I had given her more trouble than all of her boys put together. I hung my head in shame and rode forth to buy an extra pistol; went to a friend and gave him one hundred dollars for a Colt navy pistol for brother Jordan. Approaching home near sundown, I met my father leading a fine horse with cavalry saddle and bridle which he had paid the sum of one hundred and fifty dollars for brother Jordan. That night Mother and sisters prepared our clothes, packed our saddle bags and haversacks. Next morning, we kissed mother and the girls, bade them goodbye and joined Company B, Fourth Tennessee Cavalry and rode elbow to elbow, knee to knee on the march, in the bivouac and in the battle with the older soldiers. All but two of these boys lived up to the test. On October 2, 1864, B.D. Rogers was desperately wounded. He had been shot on the skirmish line and returning through our lines passed Jordan who was loading and firing.
He said, "Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Are you bleeding?"
"No."
"Get to rear."
I went to the regimental hospital, had a row with surgeon and he refused to dress my wound. I mounted my horse and rode into the village of Saltville, Virginia, to the house that had been general headquarters. That night, after the battle when the enemy had withdrawn, my cousin, Tom Eddins and brother Jordan hunted me up and found me on second floor without pillow or blanket and with a rising fever and exhausted. He sat by me on the floor and watched all night; gave me water and bathed my head. Next morning, early, Jordan helped me downstairs to bench on front porch. I insisted that he bring my horse and let me ride in line of march; he objected. Col. Breckenridge of the ninth Kentucky who was seated on porch overhearing conversation between brothers, became interested and asked to see wound.
He told me that I could not go and must go to the hospital. Tom Eddins, coming up about this time to see how I had spent the night assisted brother Jordan in taking me to depot, lifted me into boxcar, seated me on the straw and hurried off to join the regiment in pursuit of the enemy – which pursuit for three days proved futile. On seating me in car, there were a number of dead men on right and left. I turned blanket down on one, only to find a friend and acquaintance, lieutenant Tom Welt of White County, and the next was Captain George Carter, another friend and acquaintance of White County, both of which had been killed the day before.
I was carried thence to Emory and Henry College (hospital) and turned over to the tender mercies of J.B. Murphy of Murfreesboro, and Dr. Montague of Virginia. On the third or fourth day, the Confederates retreating across the mountains, General Dibrell and his Tennessee friends came up to the hospital to see boys wounded. Amongst others, Brother Jord, Tom Eddins, and Dick Stroud were gathered round my bed. General Dibrell who knew us well said, "My boy, where did they hit you?" I showed him and he wept, "My boy, what can I do for you?" I replied, "Leave one of the boys with me a little while." "Do you want your brother?" "No, General, he'll have to fight for both of us from now on." So he left my good friend Dick Stroud who nursed me a month. Brother Jord was a hard rider and never kept horses long. I, having a fine horse, gave it to him and it was afterward killed under him. From that day to the close of the war, he was known as one of the most desperately brave soldiers in entire regiment; never missed a battle, a charge, a forlorn hope during his ten Months service; he had three horses killed under him. He was mustered out at Thomasville, Georgia in April 1864, with a marvelous fighting record; got home the twentieth day of May. I got home the twenty-ninth day of May following. Brother Jord was engaged to Nora Willis, an orphan girl, reared by D. D.C. Kelly's mother. The Kelly's objected. He was married to Nora the first week in June "65". He lived a hard working, God-fearing man till May 1912, when he went to his reward.
Benjamin Duggan Rogers
Lebanon, Tennessee
CONFEDERATE SOLDIER
WRITTEN BY BENJAMIN DUGGAN ROGERS, ABOUT HIS BROTHER AND FELLOW CONFEDERATE SOLDIER HENRY J. ROGERS
Henry Jordan Rogers, second son of Asa Graves and Sarah Ann Paulina Rogers, was the best Rogers I ever saw. He was born a good boy, he lived a good life – a Christian gentleman who never utterd an oath in his life. I cannot remember the time when we did not wear each others clothes, and I, being the younger, he gave way to me at all times. We grew up like twins, going to school together. One hot day in 1864, I went home from school with a neighbor boy and while there, Confederate soldiers of our organization came by and told us Wheeler was camped in Lebanon. Early the next morning I took horse to schoolhouse and gathered my books to go to army. As I mounted to leave he said, "Tell Mother to get my clothes ready, I am going with you".
I told Mother I was going to the army and delivered brother Jordan's message. My mother burst into tears and said that I had given her more trouble than all of her boys put together. I hung my head in shame and rode forth to buy an extra pistol; went to a friend and gave him one hundred dollars for a Colt navy pistol for brother Jordan. Approaching home near sundown, I met my father leading a fine horse with cavalry saddle and bridle which he had paid the sum of one hundred and fifty dollars for brother Jordan. That night Mother and sisters prepared our clothes, packed our saddle bags and haversacks. Next morning, we kissed mother and the girls, bade them goodbye and joined Company B, Fourth Tennessee Cavalry and rode elbow to elbow, knee to knee on the march, in the bivouac and in the battle with the older soldiers. All but two of these boys lived up to the test. On October 2, 1864, B.D. Rogers was desperately wounded. He had been shot on the skirmish line and returning through our lines passed Jordan who was loading and firing.
He said, "Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Are you bleeding?"
"No."
"Get to rear."
I went to the regimental hospital, had a row with surgeon and he refused to dress my wound. I mounted my horse and rode into the village of Saltville, Virginia, to the house that had been general headquarters. That night, after the battle when the enemy had withdrawn, my cousin, Tom Eddins and brother Jordan hunted me up and found me on second floor without pillow or blanket and with a rising fever and exhausted. He sat by me on the floor and watched all night; gave me water and bathed my head. Next morning, early, Jordan helped me downstairs to bench on front porch. I insisted that he bring my horse and let me ride in line of march; he objected. Col. Breckenridge of the ninth Kentucky who was seated on porch overhearing conversation between brothers, became interested and asked to see wound.
He told me that I could not go and must go to the hospital. Tom Eddins, coming up about this time to see how I had spent the night assisted brother Jordan in taking me to depot, lifted me into boxcar, seated me on the straw and hurried off to join the regiment in pursuit of the enemy – which pursuit for three days proved futile. On seating me in car, there were a number of dead men on right and left. I turned blanket down on one, only to find a friend and acquaintance, lieutenant Tom Welt of White County, and the next was Captain George Carter, another friend and acquaintance of White County, both of which had been killed the day before.
I was carried thence to Emory and Henry College (hospital) and turned over to the tender mercies of J.B. Murphy of Murfreesboro, and Dr. Montague of Virginia. On the third or fourth day, the Confederates retreating across the mountains, General Dibrell and his Tennessee friends came up to the hospital to see boys wounded. Amongst others, Brother Jord, Tom Eddins, and Dick Stroud were gathered round my bed. General Dibrell who knew us well said, "My boy, where did they hit you?" I showed him and he wept, "My boy, what can I do for you?" I replied, "Leave one of the boys with me a little while." "Do you want your brother?" "No, General, he'll have to fight for both of us from now on." So he left my good friend Dick Stroud who nursed me a month. Brother Jord was a hard rider and never kept horses long. I, having a fine horse, gave it to him and it was afterward killed under him. From that day to the close of the war, he was known as one of the most desperately brave soldiers in entire regiment; never missed a battle, a charge, a forlorn hope during his ten Months service; he had three horses killed under him. He was mustered out at Thomasville, Georgia in April 1864, with a marvelous fighting record; got home the twentieth day of May. I got home the twenty-ninth day of May following. Brother Jord was engaged to Nora Willis, an orphan girl, reared by D. D.C. Kelly's mother. The Kelly's objected. He was married to Nora the first week in June "65". He lived a hard working, God-fearing man till May 1912, when he went to his reward.
Benjamin Duggan Rogers
Lebanon, Tennessee
Family Members
Siblings
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Dr Joseph Anderson Rogers
1840–1912
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Martha Virginia "Soucy" Rogers Bennett
1842–1927
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Benjamin Duggan Rogers Sr
1847–1927
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Sarah Elizabeth Rogers Major
1849–1933
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James W. "Jim" Rogers
1852–1936
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Asa John "A.J." Rogers
1855–1928
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Thomas Stroud Rogers
1858–1876
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Mary Hatton "Mollie" Rogers Jackson
1863–1949
Children
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