Jonathan H. Lockwood was born on February 19, 1808 in Belmont County, Ohio, one of 13 children of David and Rebecca Lockwood. His father, David, was a Revolutionary War veteran who served in the New York Continental Line.
Jonathan followed in his father’s military footsteps, becoming a major in the Ohio Militia in 1832. In 1835 he married Sallie Thompson. They had two children before Sallie died in 1839. Lockwood remarried in 1844 to Jane Alexander, and the couple had four children.
They lived in Moundsville, (West) Virginia. Jonathan was a good businessman. He became a partner in Lockwood, Burley and Company, a milling, mining and merchandising business. He built a three story hotel, and was one of the founders of the Marshall County Agricultural Society. By 1860 he was worth over $20,000, a substantial sum at the time.
In September of 1861 Lockwood was commissioned Major of the 7th West Virginia Infantry, and was quickly promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. The regiment was assigned to Nathaniel Bank’s Department of the Shenandoah, and in March of 1862 Lockwood became Provost Marshall of Winchester, Virginia.
At Antietam the 7th West Virginia took part in the bloody fight for the Sunken Road. Lockwood emerged unscathed, but two days later a volley of sharpshooters put 3 bullets through his horse and one through his canteen, according to Lockwood, “spilling his applejack.”
At Chancellorsville on May 4, 1863 Lockwood took command of the regiment when Colonel Snider was forced to leave the field. He continued to command the 7th West Virginia at Gettysburg (see monument at Gettysburg), once again having his horse shot from under him. But this time he was also hit by “grapeshot” which struck his saber scabbard, driving part of the scabbard into his abdomen and causing a hernia.
Shortly after Gettysburg heavy casualties forced the regiment to be consolidated into a battalion of four companies. Colonel Snider mustered out due to wounds, and Lockwood continued to command the battalion as a lieutenant colonel.
On February 6, 1864, he was again wounded at Morton’s Ford, struck by a piece of shell in his right shoulder. He returned to command and at Spotsylvania on May 12, 1864 he was wounded in the head leading his battalion over the Confederate breastworks, causing paralysis to his side. He fell from his horse, adding back injuries. He never returned to the field, and mustered out on December 6, 1864.
Returning home to Moundsville, in September of 1869 he filed for and was granted a veteran’s pension of $30 per month for being unable to perform manual labor and to provide for his family’s subsistence. But his businesses continued to do well, and he was still worth $12,570 according to the 1880 census. He also worked to help organize the Moundsville G.A.R. chapter.
Lockwood died in Moundsville on March 28, 1892, at the age of 84. Although the official cause of death was heart failure, his family insisted it was due to the strangulated hernia he had suffered from since the war, complications from his Gettysburg wound. His wife, Jane, applied for and received a widow’s pension, although others claimed that he had been an “unusually young looking man and vigorous for one his age.”
“Colonel J. H. Lockwood died at his family residence in the lower part of the city last Monday at 1:30 o’clock… The funeral services, which were very impressive, were performed by Rev. G. W. Grimes, of the M. E. Church. Mr Lockwood was Colonel of the Seventh Regiment West Virginia Infantry, or what is better known as the “Bloody Seventh” and many were the the hard fought battles in which they took an active part. The members of the G.A.R. attended his funeral and marched to the cemetery in a body, carrying with them the care-worn and battle-scarred flag of his regiment, which had long been treasured by him. On request of the Citizen’s Committee, the schools and court were closed as a tribute of respect, while from the stores and private dwellings flags were displayed draped in mourning… His remains were taken to Mt. Rose Cemetery, where he was laid to rest amid a scene of sorrowing and weeping.”
– Moundsville Echo, April 1, 1892