My first story of the new year was set to be a routine profile of a soldier who had survived repeated misfortune during his service, but as I examined his life, I discovered that two of his family members had authored their own unique tales, ones that also deserve attention. These new finds transformed this story into something bigger and more compelling than planned.
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Charles Lyman Rugg was born on October 12, 1842, at the York Street home of his parents, Lyman and Amelia Rugg, in Newport, Ky. Lyman worked as a barkeeper.
In 1850, 8-year-old Charles lived in Newport with Lyman, Amelia, and three siblings. His father soon found work as an agent with the Pennsylvania Central Railroad Company.1
Lyman, a New Hampshire native, had been a 49er, one of the multitudes of men who sought wealth in California during the famous mid-century gold rush. He had led a group of men on the long overland trail to the West Coast, perhaps starting in St. Joseph, Missouri, a popular departure point for people headed west. Despite meeting with some success in his search for gold, however, he did not bring any home. The John Adams, the steamboat carrying him back from California, hit an obstacle in the Mississippi River and sank.2
This unfortunate ship, constructed in Cincinnati, suffered this catastrophe in the early morning hours of January 27, 1851, killing 130 passengers and crew members. The boat had been carrying cargo while also “full of passengers, many of them returning from the California Gold Rush,” like Lyman, who “narrowly escaped a watery grave” in this tragedy and “was only rescued by being dragged through a hole cut into the hurricane roof.” He had found enough precious metal to make him “very wealthy,” but he had to abandon the sinking ship, “leaving his gold to perish” at the bottom of the cold water.3
Lyman had enjoyed considerable good luck in surviving this accident, but when he needed more serendipity four years later, his well of fortune ran dry. Early one morning, he took a ferry from Newport across the Ohio River to Cincinnati only to meet his downfall “by accidentally stepping from the ferry… during a dense fog.” While taking that finalstep, he misplaced his foot and fell off the boat, striking his head on the wharf. This rendered him unconscious, and the water carried him downstream before he sank into the depths, his body “seen no more.”4
Charles, his mother, and his three siblings persevered through this nightmare and in 1860 lived together in Newport. Charles was now 18 years old.
When the Civil War started in 1861, he remained at home for more than a year, perhaps feeling obligated to support his family, but on August 18, 1862, he joined the 71st Indiana Infantry as a sergeant in company K.
This regiment had formed in Terre Haute, Indiana and mustered into the service in Indianapolis after which its men left for Lexington, Kentucky.
Once in central Kentucky, these brand new troops - completely unseasoned, untrained, and undisciplined in military matters, leaving them totally unprepared for combat - almost immediately “saw the elephant” when they fought in the battle at Richmond, Ky. on August 29 and 30, one of the most thorough Confederate victories of the war.
The 71st assumed its fair share of the humiliation that the Rebels dished out in this contest. One account of its experience there includes the foreboding title Disaster for the 71st Indiana at the Richmond Races and describes their troubles as “an exceedingly unpleasant tale of dauntless courage, inept leadership, and even brutality.”
According to that account, after the fight ended, a captain in the 71st rounded up a handful of officers and a couple hundred enlisted soldiers from the regiment. These survivors constituted less than 25% of the force the unit had carried into this fight, as the battle cost the 71st over 150 killed and wounded men. Hundreds of others, including Charles, became Confederate prisoners, though just temporarily as the enemy paroled them within a week. The parolees were free to rejoin the regiment but could not fight again until they were officially exchanged for enemy prisoners of similar rank, a common procedure to handle prisoners both opponents early in the war.5
The men returned to Indianapolis to await exchange. After this occurred, they took the field again in December of 1862, and, as before, marched into Kentucky, where, as before, ill fortune awaited.
The 71st was still in the Bluegrass State as Confederate General John H. Morgan undertook his "Christmas Raid," and the hard-luck regiment endured another defeat when Morgan and his men captured it at Muldraugh Hill, Kentucky on December 29. In a repeat of their Richmond nightmare four months earlier, the bluecoats were paroled by their enemy and travelled back to Indianapolis where they settled in nearby Camp Burnside (or Burnside Barracks) to await exchange.6
One of Charles’ regimental colleagues in another company reported:
“Morgan took our side arms and the men's blankets and overcoats which tends to keep up well his reputation as a horse thief.”
He added: “The men are in good spirits notwithstanding the fact that we have been meanly, badly, shamefully, and outrageously treated.”7
Charles’ experience likely resembled this account.
That unfortunate day proved to be the last time the regiment marched under the 71st Indiana banner, as once back in Indianapolis it reorganized into the 6th Indiana Cavalry, effective February 22, 1863. This was the regimental name Charles later listed on his pension application and that appeared on his headstone.
An obituary relates that Charles served as an aide-de-camp under Colonel James Biddle during that “celebrated Morgan raid.” This role was akin to what today would be a personal assistant, helping an officer with tasks such as completing paperwork, drafting communications, and delivering messages to other officers, even sometimes on the field of battle while the fight was raging. It was a position that required a literate and trustworthy man to hold it, and a story explained why Charles may have received this assignment: “His tact and shrewdness always had the confidence of his superior officers.” That was the exact type of soldier whom officers would want in such a role.8
In August of 1863, these newly minted cavalry troops were exchanged and headed back to the field under Biddle’s command. This time, their luck improved for several months. They served in Kentucky, Virginia, and Tennessee until May of 1864 when they joined the Union’s campaign to take Atlanta.
As this undertaking stretched into summer, George Stoneman led a cavalry raid against the Confederates in late July and early August, hoping to damage railroads and liberate prisoners held at Andersonville Prison. The 6th Indiana was part of this raid, but Charles’ good fortune expired again when Confederates captured him late on August 2 or in the early morning of the 3rd during the Battle of King’s Tanyard (a.k.a. Jug Tavern), a Confederate triumph during which the victors captured more than 400 Union soldiers.9
This time, immediate parole was not an option as the harsh realities of the long, violent war had led both sides to stop the exchanges and start sending captives to prison camps. Both sides prioritized the care of their own men over that of captured enemies, contributing to the crowded and unsanitary conditions many prisoners faced. Civil War prisons justifiably earned a reputation as being unhealthy, unsafe facilities that no soldier wished to visit.
The southerners marched Charles and their other prisoners to Athens, Georgia. From there, they moved the Yankees to their new unwelcome homes. Charles spent time in prisons in Macon, Georgia and Columbia, South Carolina, but was blessed enough to survive his year-long confinement. He mustered out of the army on September 15, 1865, in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.
During his service, Charles had earned three promotions, first to sergeant major (the highest-ranking non-commissioned officer in the regiment) in January of 1863. Just one month later, on February 18, 1863, he became a 2nd Lieutenant and transferred to company D. He later was promoted to 1st Lieutenant on October 16 of the same year and held that rank for the rest of his service.
Charles’ military experience affected his postwar years. “Hardships in the army brought on paralysis, from which he never recovered, and which, no doubt, shortened his days.” Unfortunately, no record mentions the extent of his condition or how it affected his daily living. It is conceivable that his time in prison had left him with health issues for the rest of his days.
In the months following the war, he settled in Danville, Illinois, finding employment in the wool industry, but this venture failed and he returned to Newport where he “received an appointment as Deputy United States Marshal.”10
In 1870, he worked as a clerk and lived with his mother Amelia and older sister Jeannie in Newport. His health issues may have prevented him from starting his own family, and five years later, more such problems surfaced, as he suffered a bout of pleurisy, an inflammation of the lining of the lungs that can cause severe chest pains.11
On January 18, 1880, Charles, still just 37 years old, “passed silently from earth,” bidding “a fond farewell to all his friends as a parting word.” Pulmonary consumption, “a wasting disease with destruction of the lungs,” had been his final, unbeatable enemy.12
His sister Virginia (a.k.a. Jenny) served as the administrator of his estate.
Obituaries naturally praise their subjects, but the admiration for Charles was especially effusive, describing him as a “kind-hearted, whole-souled and lasting friend.” He was “the soul of honor, and would have almost suffered death before he would have been guilty of a mean act.”
He was intelligent, a “fluent speaker” who possessed “a vast amount of information on almost any subject” and was “a natural born wit” who “always looked on the ‘bright side’ and was ever a welcome and sociable companion.”13
Accounts consistently noted his amiable personality, as he was “of a free and engaging disposition, clever and good-natured.” His life had been a “chapter full of adventure, in every sphere of which a manly, genial nature has shone.” He was among that group of people skilled at making friends, being “familiarly known to every man, woman and child” in Newport, where he had spent most of his years. Furthermore, “he was liked by all and leaves many friends to mourn his early cutting off.”14
One story waxed poetically: “If goodness of heart be a key that unlocks the portals of Paradise they opened wide to admit the spirit of this good fellow.”15
A later article remembered his army service, noting that he had “gained distinction” in the war.”16
His funeral took place at the Presbyterian Church on Newport’s Columbia Street. A “large concourse of relatives and sympathizing friends” attended, as did the local Solders’ and Sailors’ Memorial Association.
Charles’ coffin “was strewn with beautiful floral offerings from his companions in life.” Among his pallbearers was former Civil War soldier David R. Lock, recently the Police Chief of Newport.17
He was buried in Evergreen Cemetery.
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| From findagrave.com memorial 88210502 |
A few weeks later, members of the memorial association gathered to honor their former colleague. They presented a “lengthy paper, giving date and data of his services, trials and hardships that he underwent during the war.” It concluded kindly, but wordily:
the remembrance of his many excellencies will live in the hearts of our comrades while life lasts, and mingle our sorrows at the grave of a friend whose exalted patriotism and manly bearing was acknowledged by those who paid the last sad tribute to his remains.18
Charles had obviously been a well-liked neighbor and friend, a popular member of his community.
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He was not the only Rugg who fought for a cause. His older sister Virginia had been “an ardent suffragist all her life” and was “one of the most ardent suffragists in Kentucky and one of the leaders of the movement in this country.”
Newspapers covered her efforts in this long fight. She had initially “gained national reputation by her answer to one of the last statements made by Susan B. Anthony.” Anthony had asked of her followers: “If I have lived to any purpose, carry on the work I have to lay down.”
In response, Virginia vowed: “The work you have laid down, my friend, we’ll carry on to the end.”19
In September of 1893, the Campbell County Equal Rights Association met at her house on York Street. She also served as one of Newport’s representatives at the Equal Rights State Convention a few hours south in Lexington in the following year.20
She held “considerable property in Newport,” but carried her campaign beyond the local scene, having “made several lecture tours throughout the country.”21
She was not a passive participant in this struggle. She “led the crusade with a strong appeal to her sister suffragists to resist not only unduly-high assessments, but also all payment of taxes until they secure their rights.”22
Her own experience had shaped her views. At the start of October of 1908, she visited the county’s tax assessor and made “a vigorous protest against an increase in the assessment of her property.” She argued that taxes on property owned by women – who could not vote – violated the Revolutionary War maxim of “no taxation without representation,” and agreed with the Revolution’s leaders who labelled that scenario “tyranny.”23
She quickly grew “indignant” at the public servant because even though she was a college graduate and a property owner, she “was refused a vote.” She threatened to take this issue to court “unless she obtained her rights as she saw them under the law.” The official promised to take her case into careful consideration, perhaps just brushing her off for the time being.24
Her determination to resist the “excessive taxation of her property” inspired her sister suffragists to do the same.25
In waging this battle, she was not only keeping a promise she had made her dying mother but was also going against the counsel of friends who had warned her she would not attract a husband if she continued her crusade. That threat did not bother her in the least, as she insisted that she was not “on the manhunt and that, while her name was Rugg, she was not the kind to be walked on.”
Her years of work showed that she had also fulfilled this vow, not just behind closed doors. “Miss Rugg’s lecture, ‘Woman and the Ballot,’ has attracted much attention.” It criticized the idea some men held that the ballot would be “unsafe” if entrusted to women. “She also says that the patriotism of the country depends almost entirely upon the teachings of the mothers and the so-called old maid school teachers.”26
She was among a group of local women who proposed the formation of an organization called “The Woman Taxpayers’ League” to support this mission. It intended to be “not only local, but national in its scope.”
Other groups kept this goal in mind as well. A meeting of the Susan B. Anthony Club had declared war “on the present system of taxation without representation of women property owners,” a sentiment Virginia shared and had expressed. Whether she helped craft this meeting’s statement may be a fair question to ponder.27
She joined multiple organizations to spread her beliefs. “She is a member of the Covington Equal Rights Association, the Franchise Club, of New York City, and the Susan B. Anthony Club, of Cincinnati.”28
She resolutely expressed her determination to continue the fight. “I am a Colonial Dame and a Daughter of the Revolution,” she asserted. “My grandfathers fought King George rather than pay unjust taxes, and I, too, will resist this injustice with all my strength.”29
She also spoke at a meeting of the afore-mentioned Susan B. Anthony Club in 1905.30
In 1911, she rewrote the words of a popular Civil War tune to trumpet her ongoing drive for change. Though her new lyrics may not roll off the tongue as smoothly as the originals, The New Dixie Land clearly expressed her goal. Even in this artistic form, she kept her eyes on the prize.
Its lines include: “Tis woman’s cause, she must be free To fight the wrong with help from thee,” as well as “live or die for freedom.” Other words and phrases reinforcing her will, such as “fight,” rally,” and “hooray for woman’s vote” also populate the song.31
In 1915, Virginia again exhibited her writing ability, composing an homage to Charles entitled A Soldier’s Reverie, which the Kentucky Post printed on May 31. She penned it in his voice, as if he were telling the story in 1915, recalling sights, sounds, and sensations from the oh-so innocent days early in the war. The narrator wistfully recounts the “sweet, sad memories” of that distant past before returning to a melancholy present.
This ode to “the days of the long ago” honored Charles yet fit his Civil War brethren as well. It was a sentimental journey to an ideal past and back, a public demonstration of both Virginia’s literary skill and her affection for her brother.32
Four years later, a reading of this work was one piece of a Memorial Day service in Evergreen Cemetery, an ideal occasion for such a tribute.33
On August 18, 1920, the decades of work by Virginia and her colleagues finally came to fruition when the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution went into effect, granting women the right to vote.
Virginia, in her final years as the 1920s arrived, had lived to see this historic day, but whether or not she tasted the fruits of her labor by casting a ballot is uncertain. In these years, her eyesight had failed her, leaving her completely blind and forcing her “to give up most of her activities.”
Around this same time, her church’s pastor moved to Ashland, Kentucky with his family to assume leadership of a different church, and Virginia, now elderly, went with them, appreciating the friendship they provided. Perhaps they served as her caretakers as well. She passed away in that city on March 27, 1923, and her body was shipped to the Cincinnati Crematory for a brief funeral followed by cremation. Her ashes were buried in the Rugg family plot in Evergreen Cemetery.34
This activist lived to age 87, a long lifetime that had witnessed many significant changes, including the one she had so doggedly pursued. Hers was a lengthy, meaningful life, capped with ultimate success after many years of toil.
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| Kentucky Post, October 3, 1908 |
The Ruggs left behind an intriguing legacy in Campbell County, a one-of-a-kind slice of local family history, from the adventures of the California Gold Rush to the dangers of Civil War combat, into the challenges of delivering access to the ballot box to women. Theirs is a story worth telling.
2The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 19, 1880, and Dollar Weekly Times [Cincinnati] September 13, 1955, as transcribed on findagrave.com memorial 209268250, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/209268250, lyman-h-rugg
3The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 19, 1880, Dollar Weekly Times [Cincinnati] September 13, 1855, as transcribed on findagrave.com memorial 209268250 https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/209268250/lyman-h-rugg and https://encyclopediaofarkansas.net/entries/john-adams-steamboat-17737/, Accessed November 1, 2025
5https://dan-masters-civil-war.blogspot.com/2020/10/disaster-for-71st-indiana-at-richmond.html, Accessed October 29, 2025
6https://sparedshared23.com/2022/05/18/1861-64-orlando-jay-smith-to-j-o-jones/, Accessed December 30, 2025
7Smith, Orlando Jay. “Letter to Uncle J.O. Jones.” December 30, 1862. Accessed December 30, 2025 from the Spared & Shared collection at https://sparedshared23.com/2022/05/18/1861-64-orlando-jay-smith-to-j-o-jones/
8The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 19, 1880
9https://www.georgiahistory.com/ghmi_marker_updated/battle-of-kings-tanyard/, Accessed November 1, 2025
10The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 19, 1880
11The Cincinnati Daily Star, March 17, 1876, and https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/21172-pleurisy, Accessed November 6, 2025
12The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 19, 1880. https://academic.oup.com/book/29492/chapter-abstract/265442012?redirectedFrom=fulltext, Accessed October 31, 2025
13The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 19, 1880
14Cincinnati Commercial, January 19, 1880, and The Kentucky Journal, January 20, 1880, and The Cincinnati Daily Star Jan 19, 1880
15The Kentucky Journal, January 20, 1880
16Kentucky Post, November 30, 1911
17The Cincinnati Daily Star, January 21, 1880
18The Cincinnati Daily Star, February 14, 1880
19Kentucky Post, November 30, 1911
20Cincinnati Commercial Tribune, September 15, 1893, and The Cincinnati Tribune, October 23, 1894
21Kentucky Post, October 3, 1908
22Kentucky Post, October 7, 1908
23Cincinnati Enquirer, October 2, 1908, and Kentucky Post, October 3, 1908
24Cincinnati Enquirer, October 2, 1908
25Kentucky Post, October 6, 1908
26Kentucky Post, October 3, 1908. Her death certificate listed “retired school teacher” as her occupation, explaining the “old maid school teachers” phrase, as she again used a piece of her own life in her argument.
27Kentucky Post, October 7, 1908
28Kentucky Post, November 30, 1911
29Kentucky Post, October 7, 1908
30Cincinnati Enquirer, December 10, 1905
31Kentucky Post, November 30, 1911
32Kentucky Post, May 31, 1915
33Kentucky Post, May 17, 1919
34Kentucky Post, March 28, 1923, Cincinnati Commercial Tribune, March 28, 1923, and https://www.usgenwebsites.org/KYCampbell/evergreenRo.htm, Accessed December 28, 2025
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