Shrouded Veterans: Honoring the Highest-Ranking Jewish Officer Killed in Action

On November 20, 1864, Washington, D.C., lawyer Simon Wolf penned a passionate letter to the editors of the Evening Post in response to the prejudice and bigotry faced by his Jewish brethren. “My heart is sick, my brain weary, and my hopes dampened by these manifestations, not alone in the social, but radiating from the highest official circles,” he declared. Rebuking local politicians and even some metropolitan journals for labeling Jews as cowards, Wolf provided evidence that “some of the grandest acts of heroism performed during this war were done by Jews.”

Wolf specifically named his cousin, Marcus M. Spiegel, colonel of the 120th Ohio Infantry. “[He] was severely wounded, serving under Grant in the famous and immortal Vicksburg campaign, who was advised and entreated to resign, but who gave a decisive no, saying that he embarked in this contest to see his country free and united or his life ended, and who at last fell by a rebel bullet in that fatal Red River expedition, May 4, 1864.”

The son of a rabbi, Spiegel emigrated to the United States from Germany in the late 1840s and worked as a clerk in a dry goods business before the Civil War. In November 1861 he enlisted in the 67th Ohio Infantry, rising to the rank of captain. On October 2, 1862, he was appointed lieutenant colonel of the 120th Ohio Infantry. By February 1863, Spiegel was promoted to colonel and led the regiment during the Vicksburg Campaign. In May, he suffered a slight wound to his left knee, followed by a second wound in July, this time to his upper left thigh near the groin. By March 1864, Spiegel had returned to his regiment in Louisiana.

Spiegel regularly corresponded with his wife, Caroline, and revealed that what he witnessed in Louisiana had transformed him into a devout abolitionist. “I have learned and seen more of what the horrors of Slavery was than I ever knew before and I am glad indeed that the signs of the times show, towards closing out the accursed institution,” he wrote. “I am [in] favor of doing away with the institution of Slavery.”

On May 3, Confederate cavalrymen concealed behind the levee near Snaggy Point ambushed the City Belle as it transported the 120th and other troops to Alexandria. They unleashed murderous volleys as the side-wheel steamer rounded a bend. Due to the low water level of the Red River at the time, the soldiers aboard the steamer could not see their attackers. Well-placed cannon shots tore away a portion of the roof and damaged the boiler. “The scene on the boat was terrible, the balls passing through the boat as if it were paper,” John C. Gill, assistant surgeon, recalled. “The wheel was shattered to pieces while the pilot was at it. He, poor man, was shot three times, once with shell and twice with minnie balls, which caused mortal wounds.”

Spiegel entered the cabin, ordering all the men who had concealed themselves to go out onto the hurricane deck and return fire. “When he (the Colonel), came to where I was standing, he received a mortal wound, in the bowels,” Gill recalled. “He fell, exclaiming, ‘My God! I’m done for this time, my military career is ended!” The assistant surgeon went to Spiegel’s aid and examined his wound, recalling that he “found nearly two hands full of intestines protruding through the wound.”

Roughly 200 soldiers from the regiment surrendered, while the remainder escaped by jumping overboard when the 150-ton steamer neared the opposite shore and scaling the steep riverbank. Several soldiers waded through four feet of water to the land, carrying their mortally wounded colonel. Captain James B. Taylor later spoke with Surgeon Byron Stanton, who was with the wounded Ohioans that had been captured. Once they located a nearby log house, Stanton and Gill treated Spiegel as best they could, having no medicine for the wounded or morphine to ease the pain of the dying.

“[Spiegel] was in full possession of his mental faculties from the time he received his mortal wound till within a few minutes of the time of his death, and that he fully realized the impossibility of his recovery,” Taylor wrote to Caroline on June 28, 1864. “He talked much of his family. His wife and children were the burden of his conversation. Immediately after he fell he remarked: ‘I am gone this time, God be with my poor Family and Regiment.’”

The 35-year-old father of four died the following afternoon, becoming the highest-ranking Jewish officer killed during the war. His comrades buried his remains on Wilson’s Plantation, near Wilson’s Landing, 30 miles below Alexandria, the next day.

Taylor and others from the 120th who had escaped visited the site where the victims of the disaster were interred. A camp rumor that Spiegel had not actually been killed prompted Taylor and the others to open his grave to confirm it was their colonel. “[W]e opened the grave and recognized the body,” he told Caroline.

Taylor forwarded to her the resolutions unanimously adopted by the officers and soldiers of the regiment after Spiegel’s death, which read:

No Officer could take more interest in the welfare of his men, than did he; nor could any be more esteemed. His name is inseparably connected with the History of this Regiment. He led it into different engagements in each of which it was his misfortune to receive a wound of some kind, severe or slight.

Through sunshine and storm he was with us. In the Camp, on the march or on the Battle Field, the Colonel was ever among his men and had a word of cheer for all. — Nor was a knowledge of his character and efficiency as an officer limited to his own Regt. No Regimental Commander in the Corps was more generally known — and he only known, to be respected. At different times he has elicited the highest encomiums from Brigade, Division, and Corps Commanders, and it is doubtless as well known to you as to any other that he had been highly recommended by prominent Generals in the field for promotion to the rank of Brigadier General of Volunteers. The honorable mention which had been made of his services was such as to create a belief that his promotion were not far distant.

But, Afflicted wife & fatherless children, be of good cheer. Mourn not without Consolation. True, his remains rest in an Enemy’s Country. But if there be one spot more than another where the grass will grow greener when the returning spring comes and where the autumn leaves will fall more lightly, it is upon the grave of the Patriot Soldier who has sacrificed his life in the service of his Country. For —

“If there be on this earthly sphere

A boon, an off’ring heaven holds dear,

‘Tis the last libation Liberty draws

From the heart that bleeds & breaks in her cause.”

Despite plans to disinter his body, the precise location of Spiegel’s remains was eventually lost due to the shifting of the river. Instead, a cenotaph with his portrait carved into it was placed at the Jewish Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, Illinois, where Caroline is buried. Spiegel had helped organize the Hebrew Benevolent Society, which founded the cemetery, and served as its president before the war. The cemetery is one of the oldest in Chicago and the oldest existing Jewish cemetery in the city.

Over time, his portrait and epitaph eroded, becoming so badly weathered that the details of his likeness were smoothed, his features unrecognizable, and the words illegible except for the faint “M.M. Spiegel” at the bottom of the marker. In 2024, the Jewish American Society for Historic Preservation and Shrouded Veterans successfully placed a private headstone at the base of Spiegel’s original marker to ensure the colonel was properly honored for his service and sacrifice for years to come.

Shrouded Veterans is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization dedicated to rescuing the neglected graves of 19th-century veterans, primarily Mexican War (1846-48) and Civil War (1861-65) soldiers, by identifying, marking, and restoring them. You can view more completed grave projects at facebook/shroudedvetgraves.com.