Edward W. Mouck, Co. I, 9th Pennsylvania Reserves

Edward Wright Mouck – was born in Finleyville, Washington County, Pennsylvania, April 22, 1839; died February 19, 1882, aged 42 years.

In 1845 his parents removed to Pittsburgh, and two years thereafter to McKeesport, where he spent his boyhood, received his education in the public schools and McKeesport Academy, laid the foundation for his future teaching, and taught his first school.

At the age of 17 he was elected principal of McKeesport public schools, which position he held until 1860, when he was called to the principalship of Johnstown public schools, in Cambria county, Pennsylvania. At the triennial convention of school directors which convened the following spring, Mr. Mouck was urged to become a candidate for Superintendent of schools of Cambria county; and had it not been for the fact that Mr. Mouck had only been a resident of the county for about nine months, his election would have been certain.

He returned to McKeesport at the close of his work in Johnstown, and on May 4, 1861, enlisted as sergeant in Company “I” 9th Regiment P. R. V. C. In January, 1863, he was promoted to a First Lieutenancy. On account of ill-health he resigned July 1863, and returned home to his parents. He remained at home but a short time. Rest having restored his health, he reenlisted in the 3rd Regiment Pennsylvania Artillery, remained faithful at his post to the close of the war, and received his honorable discharge July 25, 1865, at the age of twenty-four.

In more than four years of his army life, he was sick on a few months – honorably filled the duties of his post both as private and officer – passed through the following battles without wound or scar: – Mechanicsville, Gaines’ Mill, New Market Cross Roads, Malvern Hill, Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam, Fredericksburg and Gettysburg. You may serach the army records of hundreds of young men – none more noble, brave and true will you find than that of Prof. Mouck.

After his return home from his army life he remained with his parents for a short time, when he again resumed his favorite profession – teaching different grades of schools in the country until 1872, when he was elected to principalship of the Canonsburg public schools, Washington County, Pennsylvania. He held this position until 1875, when he accepted a position as compositor and associate editor on the Canonsburg Herald.

In this position he manifested great skill, and proved himself entirely competent by the judicious exercise of his fine judgement and high sense of honor. However, with all his success in this new field, he felt to a certain degree discontented. Although he loved the duties of his recent undertaking, yet he was not satisfied. The school-room and school-room duties were found uppermost in his conversation.

In 1877, he again took charge of the Canonsburg schools. He became a canidate for the County Superintendency of the following year, but he was unsuccessful. HIs defeat did not discourage him. He knew that the strong and active element in his support would in three years gather sufficient strength to secure his election to this important position.

In May 1881, he again came before the Directors as a candidate for County Superintendent, was elected and commissioned, and had served but nine months when the injuries recieved at Mansfield terminated his earthly career.

Mr. Mouck left his home on a Thursday afternoon, with the intention of visiting schools. He told a gentleman who sat with him in the cars, that the bad roads prevented him from visiting as many of the country schools as he would like, and that his present visitations would be confined to schools near the railroads. It appears that he was about to board a train when he missed his footing; another train passing that moment, struck and ran over him. He was taken to the West Pennsylvania Hopsital, where the injured arm was amputated an inch or two below the shoulder.

Suffering intense pain for three long weeks – calmly, resignedly, manfully did he bear his sufferings. Many times during the period of his serverest pains he would speak of the education of his little girls, and his future plans concerning his work as County Superintendent. Even a few days before his death he said that he hoped God would spare his life, for he felt that he could go into his field of labor and do ten times more work, though he had but one arm.

The education of his children and the protection of his family were among the last words he uttered. As the dreaful hemorrhage was slowly closing his eyes in death the words, “wife,” “home,” “children,” were faintly yet distinctly heard. In one little rally a moment before his last breath, he exclaimed “Doctor, what is the cause of this terrible weakness?” When he was told that he was bleeding to death, again was heard, “wife,” “home,” “children,” and the fatal hemorrhage hushed his voice forever.

Thus ends the career of one who was at his death Superintendent of Public Schools, Superintendent of Sabbath-school, and Commander of the Grand Army Post of Canonsburg.

I will say nothing of our friend’s defects. Of the dead say nothing, unless you can say something good. All men have faults. Mr. Mouck had his, and it may be that the few faults he had may have been an advantage to the general effect of his character, as the shadows of a picture help all the light. He is now wrapt in light. He knows. He is satisfied. God bless him! Our cherished friend and teacher – he has only left us to linger a little and then to follow. Gone with his work rounded and complete. Long, sad and frequent will be the visits of wife and children to that spot which is to them, as it were, the central point of the universe, and speak the name of him was once so quick to hear every sound of their voices, but who will never answer them again on earth.

The soft summer breezes will bear on their wings ten thousand times the words, “father,” “husband,” do that little heap of earth in Oak Spring Cemetery, the spot where rest the mortal remains of one who purified family conceptions of purity, and beautified the ideal of every excellence. The grief of those who remain is sacred, and into the privacy of whose sorrow not stranger nor friend can enter.