William Lafayette Cannon: A Man Changed by War

William Lafayette Cannon: A Man Changed by War

by Adison O’Connell

DGS 2022 Writing Contest Submission: Your family’s black sheep

My great-great-great-great grandfather, William Lafayette Cannon, was of Scottish descent; however, family history indicates that my ancestors immigrated from Ireland to the United States in an attempt to escape religious persecution. On October 9, 1892, William was born to Elizabeth and Isaac Cannon. He was the firstborn of eleven children who would spend their lives in Graves County, Kentucky.

William was twenty-five years old when he married the woman of his dreams, Margaret Caremy. One year later, Demittry Ann was born, and the couple fell in love with their first child. She had the bright smile of her mother and the twinkling eyes of her father. Fortunately, she did not seem to inherit his beard.

On a cold February morning, Margaret passed away at age twenty-five due to a heart attack. In addition to the hardships of being the single parent of a newborn and an impoverished farm owner, he received a draft letter the next day. The tension of the Civil War hung in the air like a thick sheet while William cared for his daughter until the time of his departure. It is assumed that a family member or friend cared for Demittry until William’s homecoming.

During this time, battles between the Confederate and Union sprouted up across the country. These skirmishes occurred routinely, troops and regiments developed strategies, soldiers destroyed acres of land, and people mourned their loved ones. William felt a moral dilemma between leaving his daughter and protecting his country but knew the outcome of desertion would not bode well for his family.

On February 21, 1864, the Battle of Ellis Bridge transpired. The Federals of the Second Iowa Cavalry advanced on Kentucky’s First Regiment in West Point, Mississippi. Unlike many cavalry riders, William did not realize that his horse would not benefit him in this battle. The guerrilla warfare techniques employed by General Sherman’s troops made it easier for snipers to attack. As William’s opponents surged forward, shots rang out in the early morning silence. Clouds of dust hazed the sunrise, and William froze on his horse as time seemed to slow around him. He gathered his wits and charged forward, hoping that this day would not be his last. As he finally discovered a hedge to shoot from, he felt the swiftness of a bullet sting the air. It pierced his horse, knocking her from underneath him. He had loved that old girl, but he knew that it was an era of survival, not grief. The bodies strewn across the earth could only be seen as an obstacle course as he exited the scene. He may have been discharged, but it would have been understandable if he had fled after such a close call.

William, emaciated and dirty, walked at least 221 miles home to Kentucky. When he walked through his beloved hometown, he was unrecognizable to his previous friends and acquaintances. As he traversed the lush spring grasses, he hoped that at least his daughter and parents would recognize him. When Isaac, Elizabeth, and Demittry opened the door, all they saw was a befouled shadow of a man. It is believed that only the dog recognized his old friend.

Approximately one year later, William married a woman named Lydia and had seven children: Marion, Sally, Mary, Kittie, William, Earnest, and Robert. Lydia passed away on Robert’s sixteenth birthday, and William resided in Robert’s home until his death. When Robert called for breakfast one morning, he did not receive a response. William was discovered kneeling next to his bed, hands clasped in a prayerful position. It was later determined that he died of a stroke at age ninety-two. Perhaps this was the dawn of many faithful generations to come.

©2022 Adison O’Connell
Published by Dallas Genealogical Society with the author’s permission