Part 6

The wounded from Chancellorsville were brought over and placed in tents not far away, conveniently near for visiting. John Pfleiger, wounded below the knee, suffered from a painful wound. Hank Whaling was grazed below the stomach with a piece of shell. He had but recently recovered from an attack of measles when he went into the fight, and his voice had left him, so that he spoke in whispers. When he was struck, the shock restored his voice, and he yelled, "Hub, ---- ---- I'm hit!" He finally recovered from the effects of the bruise, and saw more of the war.

When money is plenty among soldiers in camp there are always traders of various kinds on hand. A maker of tin-types set up his shop nearby and drew quite a trade. Some of those old pictures are still in existence and they are fondly treasured. Occasionally a proud son of Lenox borrowed the coat of an officer to appear smart in the picture he was to send to his deary. By far the greater number appeared before the camera rough and unpolished; sometimes in blouses, with pipes in their mouths, and caps tilted on their heads. Not at all like the frozen figures of Hamilton days.

One result of the recent battle was the depletion of the color-guard. While at dress-parade one evening Col. Brown delivered one of his measured speeches.

"Men are needed to fill out the color-guard," he said. "Candidates for vacancies can send in their names to the adjutant. I want none but brave men. The post is one of great danger. The appointment means promotion."

A subdued growl went down the line, for the speech was a commentary. Brave men! Just one man in Co. G sent in his name, and he did it to avoid guard duty. A few weeks later and a private soldier of Co. G carries the flag off a bloody battlefield. Where were those brave corporals? The sergeant was down, several of the corporals were wounded. The brave color corporal from Co. G was scratched and left the field with all its glory behind him and he never returned to the company.

One beautiful day the battalion was taken out for a drill in charging. Col. Arrowsmith commanded half the men and Major Carmichael the others. The boys were moved about, here and there, until at last they started over a sharp knoll and the divisions met, with bayonets fixed at a charge and the officers and men cheering. Company A's captain and the lieutenant commanding B, crossed swords and the fire flew for a few moments. Both were quite warm over the matter. The voice of Col. Arrowsmith stopped the threatening storm. It is safe to say, neither of those swords ever again came so near drawing blood. For the officers' swords in the infantry, usually, were applied to switching off the tops of grass and daisies, or killing snakes; few of them ever tasted gore.

Dress swords were issued to the orderly sergeants and to duty sergeants also. They were carried only for a short time. One or two campaigns and superfluous equipments disappear. Usually, their rifles were sufficient for the boys of Co. G. Those nice little swords would have answered for toasters when sharpened sticks were scarce.

In the first weeks of June orders came for the men to be supplied with extra rations and eighty rounds of cartridges. Gen. Hooker intended the men should carry plenty of powder and ball.

Sick and wounded were sent away, and with the sick went Lieut. Hemstreet, who had resigned. The sutler also struck his tent and followed after the man of the picture gallery, seeking a quiet, out of the way place.

Even the men who peddled the Washington newspapers (for ten cents, which cost them but two and a half cents) they, too, flitted.

The ins and outs and the ifs and wherefores of those days are mystifying literature. In the North the so-called Peace Party were seeking by every means in their power to bring the war to a close. That party had but recently in a convention held in New York, declared "That under the Constitution there is no power in the Federal Government to coerce the states, or any number of them by military force."

Horace Greeley compared those resolutions to the fourteen reasons offered by an Irishman in court, as to why his father was not present. The judge decided on hearing the first one--that the father was dead and couldn't come--was conclusive, and waived the remaining thirteen.

So amid the jangle of peace in the presence of war, on June 12th, the 157th moved out and marched to Hartwood church. A short rest at Potomac Creek was made memorable by a generous donation of cigars by Col. Arrowsmith, who was temporarily in command. Col. Brown was detached for a day or two and led a brigade of the first division.

The march, June 13th, was nineteen miles in a hot sun, over dusty roads. The men suffered greatly that day and were glad when Catlett Station was reached.

Co. G pitched their shelters, dug small trenches under the drip of the tents and prepared for a wet night, for the sky looked very black, the air was hot and lightning was playing in the distance. Camp was made in a heavy growth of young timber where plenty of fuel was found, coffee was made and the weary sons of Lenox turned in, tired, tired.

When the storm broke the much quoted and yet ever fearful Virginia lightning flashed out spitefully, thunder boomed and the rain came down very heavily. Amidst the racket an occasional shout was heard from some person who had failed to provide for bad weather--"My roof leaks!" or "the cellar of my house is afloat!"--ordinary occurrences.

The march on the 14th was eighteen miles, across the Manassas Plains to Centerville and camp was made near the old camp ground of the preceding winter.

The corps rested at Centerville two days, lying in readiness for a battle. And a rest was needed. Such extreme hot weather began to tell upon the men. Many of them were suffering from blistered feet; and a few men had been overcome by the heat.

On the 17th of June Co. G were again on the road, at night stopping in a sheltered hollow by the waters of Goose Creek.

This day's march of but seventeen miles, was exceedingly severe. Dust rolled up, filling the eyes, penetrating nostrils, and even the mouths of the men. They were thirsty, but the steady, close-file marching made it lively work for the boy who fell-out for water. The guns were loaded and flankers thrown out and uncertainty and discomfort appeared on every hand. Toward noon, a bend in the road led down between two thick fields of timber. The dust seemed finer and lighter than ever, and the rays of the sun darted down into that oven of a place, most viciously. Suddenly the regiment opened right and left, other regiments did the same, the men staggering into the fence corners, everything looking blue and misty before them; while a thumping noise sounded in their ears.

Directly the boys heard the voice of "Little Schimmel," who appeared to have been in the rear, as officers were marching left in front. Forward he came, shouting--

"Halt the column! Mein Gott, what for they kill all my men? Halt the column!"

Soon the general came back, cheering up the boys with a promise of coffee in the shade. Co. G rallied and found, just ahead, the shady grove. An hour's rest, and they were again ready for the road.

As they filed down into a cosy camping place by the creek that night, the men resembled the gray-back johnny rebs, more than they did boys-in-blue. They resembled men who had been rolling in the dust. However, it was not long before Goose Creek was thoroughly appropriated for bathing purposes.

While the gallant G are resting at Goose Creek, in a camp located on elevated ground, the good people at home are worrying about them. Lee's advance-guard has been seen in various places across the Potomac. A force of rebels have pressed into Pennsylvania and the whole north is excited. One hundred thousand militia from Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia and Ohio, and twenty thousand from New York have been ordered to Harrisburg. All the troops about Washington have been placed under orders. The greatest anxiety exists as to Lee's point of attack.

Vallandigham has been tried for seditious utterances and is to be sent over the lines to his Confederate friends. The party clamoring for peace is unceasing in their efforts. But the great heart of the loyal North is true.

Lee, it came about, had great hopes that this effort would be of practical worth to the cause of secession. The Confederate government hoped his success would benefit their cause abroad. And with a united South and a divided North, the rebels were to come out, ultimately, with honor. Such was the hour of preparation, of anxiety and of hope.

On June 21st heavy cannonading was heard in the direction of Aldie, and Howard's corps were placed under waiting orders, but they did not move.

Co. G were taking the world very comfortably, eating dew berries and milk and saving up strength for the next grand movement in the programme.

June 25th quite a number of convalescent men returned to the regiment from the hospitals at Washington. Among them was Durell Moore, a boy of Co. G. All of those boys looked rather pale for vigorous campaigning.

"Jerome," said Durell, as the orderly handed him a gun and accoutrements, "these things will be the death of me." It was a thoughtless remark lightly spoken but one that was noted. He was the first man (so said) in the company, killed at Gettysburg.

The afternoon of the 25th camp was broken and the corps moved down to Edwards Ferry, on the Potomac, and bivouaced in a fine field of clover. Engineers were out on the river laying a bridge and the noise of moving teams and falling planks lasted long into the night. Co. G had now become convinced that the whole weight of the contract did not rest upon them, and content and sleepy, too, they lay among the clover blossoms on the hillside, their feet to the river and their faces turned toward "God's country." They gazed at the North star and talked of home. Then sweet sleep came.

Early on the 26th the corps began crossing over the bridge of boats. A bridge laid under the supervision of Capt. C. B. Reese of the Engineers, a Canastota boy.

As the head of the regiment struck Maryland soil the boys cheered. They sang "John Brown's Body," until the chorus rolled from the end of the line. Then was heard the old hymn, "We're Going Home to Die no More." Alas, yes--nearly one out of six of them was to be left dead at Gettysburg, and scores of them writhing in pain.

They were in a new country. Virginia's neglected acres gave way to fields of corn and waving wheat yellow and nearly ready for harvest.

Monocacy was passed and the column filed through a narrow gorge and took the road to Jeffersonville. The boys of G felt well and indulged in much nonsense, similar to this--

"When are you going to cut your wheat, Steve?" inquires Doc White.

"I expect to begin the first of the week," replies Harrington.

"Orderly," says Zerne to Jim Johnson, "I think I see a rebel at that house over yonder. You will take Loucks and Wise and surround them."

"---- ---- ---- ----!" from Jim.

And so they moved along. Think kindly of them, reader; they are rough, but their hearts are right. They have followed a tedious road for many miles to fight for Lenox, for humanity--South and North--to save the Union and free the Negroes. The little part they have in the great drama entitles them to recognition, and to a mite of sympathy.

Rain set in toward night making the roads slippery. Plenty of new-mown hay was at hand, also good, seasoned rails in abundance. Maryland farmers grumbled some at such wanton destruction. It was a Union officer who pointed to his empty sleeve and said to the complaining farmer--

"Your crops will grow again, your woods will supply you with rails. This sleeve will always remain empty."

Starting out on a cloudy morning, the 27th, the column passed through Jeffersonville; the brigade band stationed by the roadside treated the boys to a little cheering music.

Reaching the streets of the small town Co. G were excited to see here and there a handkerchief waved to them. Out of the ranks sprang one of the boys.

"Come back here, what are you doing?" called out several.

"Nothing great--only wondering how it seems to walk on a sidewalk."

Near night they reached Middletown. The band unlimbered and went into action, the boys straightened up and kept step. Ladies waved flags and little boys shouted. Quite a number of houses kept closed blinds, which very likely opened when the boys-in-gray marched past and then other blinds were closed.

Beyond the town camp was made in a region ripe with dry rails and fresh hay. It was at this bivouac where Col. Arrowsmith interposed for his men as already stated.

Next day, June 28th, was Sunday and the church bells rang. Co. G were called up and formally notified that Gen. Hooker was satisfied Gen. Lee and his army had crossed into Maryland.

"You will reduce yourselves to light-marching order. Those who have blankets will tear them in two," said the captain.

Light marching order! Indeed, very little remained to be sacrificed. Many of the boys were reduced to the last shirt. To lighten up a few ounces, nearly every man went to a convenient brook and a crowd of them were soon busy, bathing and washing that last shirt. Long before those garments were dry, a headquarters bugler sounded the "Assembly." Clutching their washing from the bushes, the boys hastened to camp and were soon on the road again; some of them vainly trying to dry their shirts by throwing them over their knapsacks and tying the sleeves under their chins, thus gathering more dust than before washing. And the shirts went into the ditch.

It was a short march to Frederick, which was reached early. A delegation of small boys were out to meet Co. G, and as they marched around the outskirts of the town the rail fence was lined with little boys and girls, the boys on the top rail gazing at the free show. At one point where the children were collected, a tempting rail-full of all colors came in view.

"See the little--here--here--r--rebs! Doc," exclaimed one to his neighbor.

"Get back into the ranks, Loucks!" called out a half dozen. "You wouldn't hurt a child, would you?"

"I believe in taking them when they are young," growled Lute Loucks, one of the kindest-hearted of boys.

He had jumped toward the children with his rifle clubbed. Of course the ridiculous caper raised a laugh, in which the children joined merrily. Those jolly fellows were the life of the march.

There was Al Bridge, his face always prepared for a smile, his ways were pleasant and his heart was light. Jim Travis and Dan Grovestein skylarking all day on the road and going into camp at night kicking up their heels. Charley Ricker, another young boy who appeared too frail for the road, yet tough as whit-leather; Hugh O'Brien, with his stories of the fairy order, or of his experiences along the Erie Canal; Nick Ecker, not much of a talker, but a loud laugher, and others who trudged along enjoying the fun. They were a good crowd to be with, kind to each other. Rarely were angry words heard among them.

In fact, the entire regiment enjoyed an excellent record for good order. At times the camps of some of their neighbors were very noisy, especially when they were having a high old time; but that sort of thing was not permitted in the 157th and if ever it did occur, it was conducted in a manner worthy of the occasion.

Gen. Hooker had asked to be relieved and Gen. Meade took command of the Army on June 28th, 1863, at Frederick, Maryland.

When the 11th Corps filed out into the road on the morning of June 29th, they opened ranks to let Gen. Meade and staff pass; the boys were braced up for loud cheering and waving of caps, but the general took a different route and Co. G moved along on the Taneytown road, just enough rain falling to keep the road "greasy," as the men said. But a good long march was made and Emmettsburg was reached before night, the troops camping near the town.

The morning of the 30th, Schurz's division were moved near the town. The quarters of the 157th were on grounds adjacent to the Convent of St. Mary's. It was an unpleasant day. There were many changes being made by the new general.

The 11th Corps was passed by the 1st Corps at Emmettsburg and went into camp a half mile distant. Gen. Reynolds of the 1st Corps ranked Gen. Howard. Had the 11th Corps been thrown forward, instead of the 1st Corps, perhaps they would have made as fair a showing as the 1st Corps on the pages of history. They certainly were as good men as there were in the army.

Pickets were detailed from the company while lying at Emmettsburg. When the boys returned to camp, they were well supplied with home-made bread and other good things.

Wednesday, July 1st, the 11th Corps resumed the route to Gettysburg. Before the column is ordered to move, a glance along the lines of the 157th will be interesting.

The regiment left Hamilton something like nine months before, with over eight hundred men. Now they are drawn up in line and number three hundred and eighty-six muskets. Reports have been given of their sufferings from sickness and in the Chancellorsville fight, and desertions, which have combined to reduce the regiment to the present figures.

They have been pictured as cleanly, well-dressed men. Now they appear neglected. Their clothes show hard service, the shoes, especially important, are getting hard wear. Rapid marching and lightening of knapsacks has reduced the boys' underwear; few of them have but the one shirt, which is in use. That big chap in Co. C is unable to hide, with his blouse, the fact that he has sacrificed his last shirt for the cause. But they are the boys of Cortland and Madison and even though they are out in the rain and the mud, their pulses are regular, and their powder is dry.

The corps moved leisurely along the Taneytown road until near noon. At Marsh Creek, Battery I passed the regiment, its support. Soon after, heavy cannonading was heard and orders came to double-quick the men.

For two miles or more the fast walking and trotting was kept up until the boys drew near Gettysburg. They had come about twelve miles, and were approaching the town from the southwest.

On the hills beyond and west of the village, the 1st Corps were hotly engaged. Citizens were met coming from their homes in the town, in some instances laden with light articles. They were frightened. No wonder.

As the boys went through the streets men and women were gathered in little groups here and there, with pails of water, which the boys gratefully swallowed and hastened along.

Outside the town and north and east of the Pennsylvania College, between the Carlisle and Mummasburgh roads, Battery I was already in position and ready for work. The 157th was stationed in rear and to the right of the battery, near the Carlisle road, in a small field of growing corn.

A rebel battery took position a half mile distant and opened on Battery I. Shells came rapidly, pieces struck among the 157th quite freely. The faster came the shells the more Co. G hugged the soft earth. That sort of thing continued for a time, until Capt. Dilger had dismounted several of the rebel guns, when the others were limbered up and driven to a new position. In the meantime one of the corporals of the color-guard was killed and a lieutenant was wounded in the hand.

An order came to Col. Brown to advance his men. They started forward in double-column on the center and--to use the colonel's expression--with "alacrity."

"Battalion, halt!" somebody yelled.

The batterymen were shouting and Co. G were wondering why they were being taken through a battery while it was firing.

"About, face!"

And they returned and moved to the left of the battery and then forward down the slope, the boys of Battery I firing over their heads.

Proceeding forward two hundred yards, the regiment deployed in line of battle. A line of rebel skirmishers were coming over the rise in their front. The rebs to the number of fifty or so, threw down their guns and came forward and surrendered. Several men were detailed to take the prisoners to the rear.

Off on the right, skirmishers were very busy. Shells were flying toward them from two rebel batteries.

"Battalion, double-column on the center--March! Right wheel!"

Then it was, under lively shelling, those much-abused fellows quarter-wheeled to the right, as steadily as if on their quiet parade ground.

Again they went forward and over a rail fence, into a field of wheat standing ready for the reaper. Then came the order to deploy column.

"Co. G, not a man of you fire until you reach the line, and then give them a volley!" shouted Capt. Frank.

The boys had met the enemy again and some of them were falling. Peter Agan, the first man hit in the company, fell with a ball through his thigh. Another man fell forward and bellowed like a calf and as the company went forward he crawled to the rear and deserted--unhurt.

Into line went Co. G. They formed on the colors, steadily and ready.

"Co. G, give it to 'em!" called out the captain and a grand volley was sent toward the line of rebel heads which were bobbing up and down over the wheat, twenty rods distant. Then the fighting began. It was murderous while it lasted--only about twenty minutes.

At one time Col. Brown ordered a charge and the line surged forward for a few rods. Again they halted and stood up for a time and took their medicine like men, giving back their best. Along that line the boys were falling in all shapes. Then some one shouted "get down into the wheat!" And thus was the fighting continued in Indian fashion. Zip! zip! came the bullets, scattering about the ripe wheat wastefully.

"What did you-uns stand up like that for, and be shot down?" asked a reb of one of Co. G's boys, a prisoner.

Capt. Frank, Capt. Backus, Capt. Adams and Capt. Briggs were down--the two former, killed. Other line officers were killed or wounded. The gallant Lieut.-Col. Arrowsmith was dead. It was a question of but a few moments when his entire regiment would be disposed of, and the colonel looked about wistfully for an approaching aide.

A staff officer finally came riding rapidly toward the field. He reached the line of fire and his horse fell. It was Capt. Klincker of "Schimmel's" staff. Klincker dismounted, waved his hand to Col. Brown, then unfastened his saddle and with it started for the rear.

Col. Brown ordered a retreat. The scattered remnant of his regiment, their organization broken, a sorry sight, left the field.

Joe Hart, of Co. G, as the order came for retreat, arose from the wheat. Near him lay the colors. He picked them up and started for the rear. He succeeded in reaching the fence, when he was shot through the leg. Joe tossed the flag over the fence to Ir Sayles of G, who carried it from the field.

Col. Brown rallied his men near the town, and a few shots were fired, and then continued their retreat.

Capt. Frank was killed, Lieut. Gates badly wounded, Co. G had lost nearly one-half its numbers and the few still on an army footing were exceedingly lonesome.

The streets of the town were soon blocked with ambulances, horsemen and men afoot. The exulting rebs were pouring into town in steady pursuit. Batteries from a distance were sending shells after the retreating Yankees. It was no time to stop and visit.