Part 3

Reveille sounded at 3 o'clock on the morning of October 12th. Tents were struck and with one day's cooked rations Co. G fell into line. About 7 o'clock the regiment started for Fairfax Court House, a distance of fifteen miles. Four hours consumed in striking tents, eating and getting away, was pretty easy soldiering; but they were learning a little all the time, those boys.

The road from Long Bridge to Fairfax had always been a long one for new regiments, and to Co. G, particularly so, on this march. Fifteen miles is not a great march for veterans. But heavy knapsacks, cartridge-boxes, haversacks and canteens and the rifle and bayonet, made quite a load for new troops. Co. G started forth boldly in the misty rain and made their first acquaintance with the slippery Virginia mud. All went well for a few miles and then the column began to lengthen. Apparently the faster the colonel led the head, the slower moved the foot of the regiment, and when he reached Fairfax with the colors and a handful of men, the rear was but half way there. Brave Co. G, not to be out-straggled by the others, spread over as much of the country as possible, and when they drew near the town, Gen. Sigel was at the picket line to receive them. So interesting an occasion and one so novel was rare even in those days. The captain of Co. G, was at the camping place to receive them as they dragged in and reported themselves. And he spoke to them, cheerily, "Hurry now, and get the blank-blinkety-blank tents up. You have done blankety-blink well to-day, boys." Co. G knew all that and accepted the compliment. Stoical chaps, with aching shoulders.

One, and perhaps the greatest impediment to rapid marching that day, were the heavy knapsacks, although the cartridges, rations and canteens of water, weighed upon the shoulders of the boys with no kind results. But the knapsacks, crammed with necessary clothing, books, toilet articles, whetstones, hatchets, and much other stuff, three-fourths of which was dispensable, bore heaviest of all. All new regiments were similarly afflicted. Experience, however, taught in the army as at home.

Col. Brown, it is meet to record, was thoroughly disgusted with this first march of his men on a complete war-footing. Yet he was blameable. He should have known that forty pounds of regulation outfit was a full load, and that thirty pounds of additional weight in albums, revolvers and gim-cracks handicapped his heroes on the road. Even without sacrificing those stores of novelties, if the colonel had moved slowly, halting frequently and resting his men, he would have saved himself great humiliation. But he was getting schooled, learning something that he had overlooked or forgotten, at every public exhibition of his knowledge. He had called the men at Hamilton "my soldiers." One bright lad remarked "If he is our father, who in Hamilton is our mother?" He was indeed a fatherly sort of a man in some ways. As to their regimental mother, she never addressed her children, but was ever ready to enfold them within her bosom, and before three years had gone by, they became well acquainted with Mother Earth.

For some reason it was always harder on the boys marching under Col. Brown. Quite a contrast were Lt. Col. Arrowsmith and Major Carmichael, who were no less prompt than Brown; but they appeared to understand the men better. They realized that the short legged men were on the extreme left of the companies. That the tall men led the companies, and consequently unless all took the same length of step the line soon began to draw out; as on the historic march just mentioned.

The exercises at Fairfax resembled the ordinary routine, varied with exercises in firing blank cartridges. Men were here detailed for the first time for duty on outposts. A picket was stationed not far from the camp, who were given strict orders. With loaded pieces they stood post, rain or fair, in continual expectation of the arrival of the entire rebel army. No rebels appeared. Gen. Lee held no special grudge against Co. G.

While no rebels attacked Co. G at Fairfax there was another sort of gray-back came into camp. The colder weather of autumn and the dismal rains came on, adding greatly to the usual discomforts of tent life. Men began to sicken, others were homesick and consequently careless of their persons. Of course Co. G boys were mortified when the first specimens appeared and such a boiling of underwear as followed, checked the increase of the pest. The pediculus is in question.

Co. G were now being represented in the hospital. Sergeant Jarvis kept around as long as he was able, showing wonderful nerve, but finally was obliged to leave the company and never returned; being discharged, he was taken home by friends where with good nursing he recovered. In November, J. M. Ainsworth died in hospital at Washington, and Alfred Wilder died in hospital at Fairfax. Orderly Sergeant Moore was taken sick and left the company permanently.

So much sickness in the regiment suggested the need of better quarters and camp was changed. The men were ordered to build fire places and chimneys. An old building was sacrificed to supply bricks as well as lumber to use for flooring.

Fairfax was noted for many incidents worthy of note. Singular it was that so many of the boys cut their hands when procuring wood. In a few instances the forefinger of the right hand suffered. The surgeons became suspicious, after a while, for those accidents in most cases, appeared to be of an intentional character. The mania was not popular, the victims were not discharged. But ever after, such men were spoken of as those who were wounded at Fairfax. Co. G frowned upon such tricks so effectually that only one or two of its members caught the mania.

While at this camp the regiment was assigned to the 11th Corps under Gen. Franz Sigel, in the first brigade of the third division. Gen. Carl Schurz commanded the division and Gen. Alex. Schimmelpfennig, the brigade.

The 11th Corps was reviewed by Secretary Chase, at Fairfax, when Co. G marched proudly forth with expanded chests and flashing eyes to the brazen notes of "Hail to the Chief;" every one of them being a chief on his own mountain, he appeared to receive the music as a personal compliment; but after hearing it a few hundred times, later on, they leaned more fondly to "The Girl I Left Behind Me."

The 11th Army Corps was termed a German corps while in truth at least three-fifths of them were born in this country, and Poles, Hungarians, Scandinavians and Italians were to be found in the eleven so-called German regiments. Sigel had been praised for his good work at the Second Bull Run fight, and unfortunately being a German officer prejudice was aroused against him, and of course the corps commanded by him were considered "Dutch." It was a bad day for the North when Sigel was removed from that corps of willing fighters.

In Schimmelpfennig's brigade were the 74th Penna., 61st Ohio, 68th N.Y., 157th N.Y., and 82nd Ill., regiments, the last two new regiments. Sigel, Schurz, "Schimmel" and Col. Hecker of the 82d Ill. had all seen service in Germany and Hecker was one of the leading revolutionists there in 1848, in fact Hecker, Sigel and Schurz fled for refuge to America. Especially did Co. G feel honored to be placed in the division led by Carl Schurz, the patriot, statesman, gentleman and soldier. And so the brave Co. G were to go "marching on" with the "Dutch," but unfortunately never to fight "mit Sigel." They shared in the dangers of the 11th Corps. They shared in the severely unjust criticism the corps received.

The absence of ready means for trading purposes was beginning to be felt in Co. G. Now and then a fellow could produce a little money and was content. As the boys saw their money disappear into the sutler's till, they were said to then have bought pocket-books--as their cash was disappearing they began to save, like true soldiers; and when the last dollar was gone they regretted their foolishness, like all the world. They were at school and in the freshman year; shortly, the sutlers will have a story to tell.

Money of the war was greenbacks and postal currency in fractional parts of a dollar. As soon as the war began the speculators hoarded the silver and the people were soon obliged to use the bills of state banks, and shin-plasters issued for fifty, twenty-five and ten cents, by merchants and others, redeemable at their places of business. Ordinary postage stamps were circulating in small amounts enclosed in diminutive envelopes and passed around as change. So when Co. G went to the front such of the boys as had bills on state banks, found them useless. And the tormenting postage stamps were often found stuck together from the perspiration of one's body. Although mustered for pay Co. G had not yet seen a paymaster. So they drew on funds at home, if they had any, and in traffic received the beautiful new 50s, 25s, 10s, 5s and 3-cent paper currency; an event worthy of remark. The greenback came out late in 1861, and McClellan's men and others received them who previously were paid in gold.

A sad accident occurred while the company was at Fairfax. It was on a pleasant day, October 30th. The boys were at platoon drill when they were interrupted and returned to camp. One of their comrades had been shot. His name was Henry Richardson, who being detailed on fatigue duty was at work arranging for a hospital tent. A detail from the 26th Wisconsin regiment returning from picket duty, had discharged their guns into an embankment a half mile distant and in line with the 157th. A stray ball went over the bank and struck Richardson on the side of the head, killing him instantly. There was not a great deal of mirth in camp the evening following the accident. And when the bright moon came up, a line was quietly formed and followed the ambulance down the road to the picket line, the fifes and muffled drums playing the march for the dead. Members of the regiment had subscribed money and the body was taken to Washington by Sergeants Hemstreet and Gates, there embalmed and forwarded to Canastota. And for a long time, the deep shadows of the oaks, the white cover of the ambulance and slow stepping body of men who marched to the solemn music, was an impressive scene and one seldom commented upon. In the language of one of the boys, "It was bad enough to be shot at by rebels," without additional risks from the rifles of their friends.

In the latter part of October orders came to pack up the superfluous clothing, which included of course albums, quarto dictionaries, library books of all kinds, hardware, etc., already toted so far in the knapsacks. The object was not so much to lighten the loads of the men as to increase their speed. Gen. Sigel had not forgotten that memorable march from Arlington in which Co. G succeeded so well in lagging behind. And so it happened that a cart load of boxes filled with the surplus wardrobes and toilet articles and bric-a-brac of Co. G, were stored somewhere in Fairfax and to be left there as prey for looters.

The first day of November marching orders came and the boys took the road for Centerville. At one of the first resting places the knapsacks began to drop and in their place the popular blanket roll was hung over the right shoulder, thus supplying a nice pad for the rifle to rest upon while marching. The same scene of disburdening occurred at every halt, until the men were reduced to easy marching order, and at every halt the ground was littered with the goods. Germans following who were better fitted for the task, loaded themselves like pack horses; and what the Germans did not take was culled over by the teamsters. What cared Co. G, their shoulders were now relieved.

The first day's march was through Centerville and down the hill to Bull Run, encamping near Stone Bridge, a locality noted for the scene of slaughter there but a few months previous. Coffee was boiled in turbid water from the stream and the boys bivouaced under the stars. The boys of Co. G thought hard and rapid that night as they gathered like frogs along the margin of the stream and bathed the pouching blisters which adorned their heels. No matter what they thought of other matters, the men of G were never known to lack in respect for one of those old army blisters; and the more the blisters smarted, the more they were respected.

Co. G were tired and even the snorers of the company were quiet. There was Jerome Forbes a capital snorer; he was soon promoted to a lieutenancy and probably then gave up snoring. And Hub Suits who bunked with Jerome, was an excellent second. But they all slept quietly that night for those fields were reminders of serious conflict. Around them lay a good-sized army, victims of two great battles: lay as fallen soldiers are buried on the battlefield, in shallow trenches or above the ground with a thin cover of earth over them; their fleshless skeletons protruding to mock the so-called glory in war. And only the stars looked down compassionately. Those sleeping forms of the living also were offerings, and of the 157th, every ninth man was to be lain on the nation's altar before the close of the war. Still they slept on, perhaps dreaming of home, of mothers, wives, babes. What a miserable trade is war?

It was on that terrible field the chaplain of the regiment received the acceptance of his resignation. He was a good man,--had served the gospel but little to the men. He declared later, that he was discouraged. He never did any harm, if he did no good. Co. G were very sorry to lose the chaplain, for they felt the dignity of the regiment was well guarded so long as a man of peace was with them. No, no, Co. G had done nothing to discourage the chaplain; possibly he was shocked by those long-rolls on Arlington Hights.--But the bugle sounds the reveille.

"It appears to me people are in the habit of rising early in this part of the country," remarked Doc White, as he gazed upward into the constellated arch.

"Yes," spoke John Miller, "and I must carry that grist to mill to-day."

"You'll carry it on your back, Miller," called out another, in memory of a knapsack.

"Co. G, fall in for roll-call!" sang out the orderly sergeant.

The line of march this day lay toward Thoroughfare Gap. Not far from Hay Market the column halted and were drawn up in double-column on the center.

"Attention-n-n!" yelled Col. Brown. "My men, the enemy are supposed to be near. They have been seen to-day. You may shortly be called into action and I expect every man to do his duty. Remember, the eyes of Cortland and Madison counties are upon you. Attention! By division, right wheel! For-w-a-r-d, March!"

Off into a field and skirting the woods, moved Co. G. Another wheel and to the left, and the advance began. They moved briskly and steadily along, until one of those narrow wash-outs peculiar to Virginia soil, yawned fully four feet in width before them. Over went the divisions like sheep, the major in the lead, for alas, the horse ridden by the colonel--the old cow--refused to take the ditch. Fortunately the eyes of Madison county were not present at the circus which followed. Thump! thump! went the colonel's heels against the ribs of the cow; then he whirled and dashed at the obstacle again. All the time Co. G were on a still hunt for wandering rebels. And when the colonel, by making a wide detour, succeeded in overtaking his men, they were well across the field and had not bagged a single johnny. The company generously shared their disappointment with Colonel Brown, just the same as though he had kept his place with the column. The colonel had been foiled--and that, his first Virginia ditch. In fact that was not a day really rich with glory for Madison and Cortland counties.

As the field manoeuvre was over, the column again took the road--it was doubtful if there was a force of rebels within twenty-five miles.

Toward night Thoroughfare Gap (an opening through the Bull Run mountains) was reached and Co. G bivouaced in the oak woods with an abundance of leaves for bedding. Two nights they slept on the ground without tents--no great hardship in good weather; but the second day at the Gap the shelter or dog-tents arrived; the day following they were pitched, after a fashion.

While at the Gap the entire division of Gen. Schurz appeared to have run wild. Every house, the fields, all property was exposed to the looting soldiers, who were well supplied with government rations but craved chickens, fresh mutton and tender beef, honey, home-made bread, jams, and jellies. The camp of the 157th resembled a market. Cattle and sheep were lowing and bleating in pens, fowls were plenty and dressed carcasses, hams and many other articles and things hung from the trees. Guns were popping and stray bullets flying, for the brave boys had discovered the presence of the saw-back hog, a species common in the South, usually running at large. They had first met him on the road while marching in, when the big saw-back with long snout to the ground claimed the middle of the road, and got it too; going down from the head of the regiment to the rear, the ranks opening graciously to allow him to pass. And he minded little the bayonet jabs pushed at him as he sped as only his family can run. But many a saw-back fell that day, of all ages, from roaster to patriarch.

After some hours of such ill-becoming looting, strict orders were issued and guards thrown out about the camps. A few hours later the doctors were busy with sick men who had gorged on honey and fresh pork.

Thoroughfare Gap witnessed several contests during the war and many times the cavalry, either of yanks or johnnies, saw each other's heels flying through that winding defile with warm spurs. And the place was remembered ever after in the annals of Co. G, as the camp where much property was stolen and also the locality where Dan Brockway left his little leather-covered trunk.

Dan was formerly a peddler of various kinds of flavoring extracts, ink and bluing. For some funny reason he carried a stock of his essences with him into the army; a strange freak indeed. He had lugged that package thus far, patiently bearing the compliments of officers and men as they urged him to keep in place. He was one of the smallest men in the company, but it took one of the largest and the strongest to land him on his back at square-hold. Brock was always good natured and always busy.

The day came for another moving and the captain said in a firm, but pleasant, way,

"Brock, you must get rid of that blinkity-blim box of yours. Do you understand me?"

Brock understood, as when the captain spoke that way he was in earnest. So the box of beautiful extracts, cinnamon, peppermint and the rest, was left at a house near the gap and is there still, perhaps, for Co. G never saw it again.

The 11th Corps had been thrown forward to guard the supplies for McClellan's army then on the march from Harper's Ferry. Large quantities of stores came up and were in waiting for the advancing columns, and as soon as the Army of the Potomac had gone into camp near Warrenton the 11th Corps was moved to New Baltimore.

Orders for marching came Nov. 7th, a chilly, cloudy day. Before the march of twelve or fourteen miles was half concluded, snow began to fall and Co. G pitched their tents at New Baltimore, in a brisk snow storm, and in a cornfield. Corn stalks were plenty and served for tent-flooring. It was a blundering piece of work, ordering men to camp in a muddy cornfield while a few rods distant was a desirable rise of ground, to which they were removed within a few days. The 157th had many experiences among corn stubble, until the boys came to counting upon such a bivouac as sure whenever one was found conveniently at hand. Blame was unjustly attached to Col. Brown for those cornfield camps.

The continued bad weather caused much sickness among new troops, and consequently the army was weakened. McClellan advised going into winter quarters, but the Northern press howled, "On to Richmond!" and the administration removed McClellan and placed Burnside at the head of the army.

The troops were drawn up to bid farewell to Little Mac. His progress could have been traced by the cheering of the men. McClellan was popular with the rank and file of the Potomac army. Had his advice been taken and a vigorous campaign opened in the spring, thousands of brave men might not have fallen in vain, with other thousands of sick besides, not to mention the heavy losses in stores and equipments. Those campaigns conducted to gratify a clamoring press were not popular after Gen. Grant took command of the Army of the Potomac. As soon as Gen. Burnside was well established in his new command he began his move on Fredericksburg.

At New Baltimore the regiment was for the first time joined by the lieutenant colonel, Geo. Arrowsmith. Col. Arrowsmith had seen considerable service and when the regiment was organized his name was pressed for the colonelcy over his former tutor, Brown. The appearance of the lieutenant colonel was pleasing. He was a tall, strongly-built man, his face was pleasant and his voice was clear and strong. The men enjoyed being under his command, because there was an air of confidence about him not possessed by the inexperienced officers. There was no hesitation when Arrowsmith gave an order, for he gave none new to the men without first explaining and making it clear. At Fairfax, Brown had captains and even sergeants attempt to evolute the battalion, while he kept one hand on the machine that it might not blow up. But Arrowsmith had none of that nonsense, and for some reason it ceased soon after he came.

November, 1862, was very trying for the people at home as well as the soldiers in the field. The election of Horatio Seymour as governor, encouraged the Peace Party. At the front was Burnside surrounded by officers and men antagonistic to him, who growled at his appointment and criticized his every move. The malcontents among the corps commanders favored McClellan and if not he, they wished to have some one beside Burnside, who was a good man, and all he lacked to make his plan successful, was hearty co-operation among his subordinates.

As already stated the men were growing more sickly. The hospitals were filled and many were ailing in their tents. Co. G, amid all the misery and the growling and incipient disloyalty, remained steadfastly loyal. Its heroes marched up and took their quinine, or they marched away to picket-duty. But they were being thinned out and details came heavier and heavier upon those who remained well. The principal malady was dysentery, which weakened the men quickly, but being of a mild type in most cases, there were few fatalities.

The return was begun Nov. 17th over soft roads, slippery with mud, made worse by the rain which began to fall about noontime. After dark the men bivouaced in a field of corn-stubble, rain falling and small rivulets running down between the rows. The boys were served with boiled potatoes, warm from the kettle and graced and blessed by Billy Mallows, the cook, who growled and snarled while he cooked, until the very potatoes rolled their eyes at him. Thankful was he that night that he was soon to leave the emblazoned service, as he soon after did to give place to one of the best company cooks in the regiment.

At this cornfield camp near Gainesville, a whisky ration was served to the men. They had fixed their bayonets and driven them into the ground, strapping a third gun across for a ridgepole on which to lay their tents; then spreading a rubber blanket on the wet ground they made their beds for the night; a bad arrangement in case of alarm and against orders, but they could do no better in the dark.