Part 3

Co. K participated with the Regiment in all the five days of action, being more or less under fire the entire time. Our first experience in line of battle was on a by-road leading out from Plank Road, about a mile east of Chancellorsville. Thick woods in our rear. Dense pine thickets in front. Fences were leveled. Shells crushing in tops of trees behind us. Balls occasionally zipping nearby, and enemy coming nearer, but could not be seen. In those moments of trial, what a study in human nature! The rebels came on in heavy columns. Our skirmishers are driven in. Orders given to fall back, and our going back through that brush was a terror. No order could be maintained. But once out of timber and on road, we were soon right again, and ever after were ready for the Johnnies. We had been initiated, practically blindfolded. In that first day of May and several days following Co. K was tested in nearly all phases of engagement, its chief work being constructing entrenchments and _abatis_; and in the hottest conflict on the third day, in support of Knapp's battery. In this particular service K had some protection in an embankment of a cross road, while shot and shell passed over in dreadful profusion. Capt. Stockton had shelter only by a little sapling, which was cut off a few feet above him, Lieut. Col. Frazier remarking, "rather a close call, Captain."

To a soldier in his first battle there are strange feelings and peculiar experiences. That the members of K shared in these may be indicated by a quotation from Corp'l Cooke's writings to me: "On the 1st day of May, '63, I saw the first wounded man as we marched out to support the skirmish line to the right of plank road east of Chancellorsville. The sight of the blood running down the man's face made me blind; but it soon passed away, and I never experienced the sensation again during the war, though I saw many worse sights. It was then the Company had several new experiences--lying in front of a battery to support it (in the open ground, just east of C.) lying in the woods at night while an occasional long-tailed, comet-like shell would shriek over us, while we buried our noses in the dirt and leaves; the wild experience of supporting the battery behind it, while it seemed all the artillery of the enemy was playing upon it. That Sunday artillery duel was the most terrific experience to me of the whole war. Yet, strange to say, there were but few casualties in K worthy of mention. That being our first battle many things were vividly impressed on my mind: the digging of trenches; the attack on Howard (by Jackson) that _thundering_ Saturday night; the filing by of the 11th Corps the next morning; the disabled cannon swung under axles; the women pale and frightened, fleeing from the burning Chancellorsville houses, creeping along our trenches to find a place of safety; the band shelled while playing the "Star Spangled Banner"; the dragging off by hand (by detail from the 140th) the remnant of our battery in front; the falling back to a new line, and finally the retreat."

Much of our maneuvering was done in woods and tangling brush, very annoying. K withstood its baptism in battle well, and met the discomfiture, defeat and retreat of our army in very good spirits, sharing in the "ups and downs" in the march in rain and mud. Many expressed regret as we recrossed the river, for better things had been expected.

On the north side Lieut. Sweeney and Geo. McConnell were met, returning from their visits home. This was on the morning of May 6th. The march thence back to our old camps was made much "as you please," characteristically like American soldiering; but we got there O.K.--for supper, and that after considerable rustling. One thing was manifest, K had parted with many of its possessions in extra clothing, comforts, etc., and some essentials were lost. The fact is, when we were up in support battery on the 3rd, our knapsacks left by order, at trenches, were ransacked by camp followers. [See the Transcriber's Note at the end of the text] fact is, when we were up in support of battery on the 3rd, our knap- Wheeler, in arm; McCalmont, in foot; Briggs, in back; Chester, in leg; and J. W. Nickeson, thumb shot off. Corp'l W. L. Pry, in falling back to hospital, overcome with fatigue, accidentally shot himself in hand.

Comrade McClurg (who was with the Pioneer Corps, which, while laying pontoons, was shelled by the rebs and had to seek shelter till our cavalry drove the rebs away) reports that he cut slips from apple trees behind which he took refuge and sent them by letter to the man on his home place, and that today he eats apples from a large tree grown from the slips grafted on the two branches of a young tree then recently planted. (On a visit, in June, '04, the writer saw with much satisfaction this tree.)

On the 11th day of May, for sanitary effect, our camp was moved about a mile, and K soon had herself in summer array. On the 13th K was assigned to a new place in line and camp, other Companies, too, being changed. (C, B, K, I, A, H, G, D, F, E.) This changed K from left to right centre. On the 14th, the Orderly with a volunteer squad beautified the Company street, planting out little pines, etc.

On the 20th day of May, '63, Wm. A. Ruffner was discharged on surgeon's certificate of disability. And on the 21st K suffered the loss of Corporal W. L. Pry. The accidental wound had been followed by the amputation of the hand, and from some cause or other, it was deemed necessary to make another amputation. This time the whole arm. But the shock and loss of blood were too much. At 2:30 p.m. he died. Arrangements were made to embalm the body and ship it to Cross Creek, Pa., for interment. Serg't B. F. Powelson was given a three days' pass to accompany the remains as far as Washington, D.C. D. McC. Pry was promoted Corporal to fill the vacancy caused by the death of his uncle.

George Morrow, in the hospital at Washington, D.C., was reported as discharged on May 23rd, '63, on surgeon's certificate of disability. But a few days afterward there came the sad news of his death in the hospital. Thus seven of our number had already succumbed to death through sickness, and one from a wound.

To relieve the severities of soldier life friends at home had sent many extras in food and delicacies to the members of the Company and Regiment in camp.

The recollections of the closing days of May and the early days of June, too, to us are very vivid: the rigid drilling, the rumors of movements, and of Lee's army heading northward, the breaking up of camp streets with accumulated beans, rice, etc., that the same might not fall in the enemy's hands. And now we number ourselves for campaign and conflict.

On our roll are now but 79 names. Exclusive of those on detached or special duty and the sick, only about 55 or 56 were ready for the line.

When on June 14th the army started north, Co. K bore up bravely in marching through dust and heat, and now and then wading streams. How vivid our recollections of that awful dust--when in evening coming down to the valley of the Occoquan and before wading it, it rested on our knapsacks (according to Serg't Shindle's measurement) a quarter of an inch deep! Blistered feet! The waters of the Occoquan soothed them. Nor do we forget that big spring near Fairfax Station, like the water from the rock smitten by Moses, a source of delight to thousands for several days. The boys, too, of K shared in the sights and soldier enjoyments at Centerville. Here on the 19th or 20th of June our Company positions were again changed in the Regiment. Now from C on the right stand C, F, G, D, K, I, B, H, E, A. K now is the color Company, the third position of honor, and this it held ever afterward.

While on duty a few days at Gainsville the boys of K improved their opportunities in securing some change in diet, and the First Sergeant tried his hand in trading coffee and sugar for some extras for the larder; and were Lieut. Cook and Smith Graham living they could testify to his success. The Sergeant's repeated efforts as well as successes in this, they say, were due to that fine looking "gal," Evelyn Harrison Marsteller, at the Marsteller Mansion.

From this on in all our movements we were kept in constant readiness for action, as the army was held between Washington City and the enemy, ever alert, picketing and skirmishing, marching regardless of rain or swollen streams, through sections devastated by the armies, over battlefields with their terrible sights. And boys of K, can you forget the night at Gum Tree Springs, when after that hard day's marching and watching, you bivouacked, and how it rained all night? Nevertheless it was a good sound sleep from ten or eleven till four in the morning, on a bed of two flat rails, (the "Orderly" was lucky to get such) one end on a stone or broken piece of rail and the other on a bank, the water streaming beneath, each one for himself, wrapped with his scant remnant of hard-tack and coffee, gun and ammunition, in a gum blanket or piece of tent, and the cap drawn down over the face. Never were sleep and rest sweeter! And the early hours found us pressing on towards the Potomac, over swollen streams. How timely those good rail fences on the heights, overlooking the river at Edward's Ferry. And how readily every one in K obeyed the order to _take only the top rail_, until the Company had its share of blazing fires to dry and warm us! Then that never-to-be-forgotten night when we crossed on the pontoon bridges. K's turn came after hours of waiting, and at 2 o'clock in the morning we found ourselves in "My Maryland." All were practically asleep on march or halt. Oh, those plagued stops or halts through all that weary night! Yes, you remember your Orderly Sergeant's mishap--how, in one of those miserable stops, he fell asleep, having dropped down by a bush on the roadside, a half mile or so from the river--no sooner down than asleep, and did not wake up by the usual call of comrades; and so two hours passed in that innocent sleep, and he got completely lost from the Regiment, and remained so (as everything was moving onward) till evening of second day, June 28th. Fortunately he found James Arthurs, of K, who drove the Regimental wagon. Not knowing anything better, he stayed by the stuff till Arthurs received orders to take much needed rations to the Regiment, which was found in bivouac, just south of Frederick City across the Monocacy. And the lost was found, and the "Orderly" was welcomed with profound rejoicings, no one knowing what had become of him, the last any one could remember aught of him was while crossing on the pontoons. And does any one with K on June 29th forget that march of 35 miles by the 2nd Corps to hill just northeast of Uniontown, Md.? We trow not. How we enjoyed the rest and the foraging (from fresh pastures) on the 30th, and Gen. Hancock's order of congratulation and thanks. Here Cummins and others from the hospitals joined us. And vivid, too, is each one's remembrance of the march of 30 miles we made on afternoon and night of July 1st, our Brigade being rear guard.

Of the 79 now on K's roll as we take our position on the battle line on the morning of July 2nd, 22 are absent--in hospital or absent sick--Silas Cooke, George Ralston, Peter Andrews, D. J. Butterfoss, J. W. Day, Jos. C. Frazier, George Hanlin, J. W. Nickeson, Wm. Stollar and Marshall Wright. On detached or detailed duty--John F. Gardner, James Arthurs, M. Daugherty, J. H. Fordyce, Ben McCullough, J. L. Noah, Ezra Conaway, Enoch Mounts, J. K. McCurdy, Robert McClurg, Nat. Seese and Jas. Worstell.

Each one participating in the fighting at Gettysburg is able to tell his story of that wonderful conflict. It was fought for the most part on open ground and much could be seen. But the average soldier's vision was confined largely to his immediate surroundings. Yet individual testimony goes far ofttimes to settle matters over which there arise differences in opinion. Co. K stayed well together until the hasty retreat, and its path seems clearly defined. So distinct were the impressions thereof on the memory of the writer that, on a visit to the battlefield in 1898, the only time I ever visited it, 35 years after the conflict, I could start in where we marched in and follow our route from start to finish. Could stand where we stood in line as we emerged from the strip of timber, and where Col. Roberts fell and our right wing suffered so heavily, and could see afresh our changed position to meet existing conditions. Since called to this work, I have resurrected from the old trunk the almost daily writings I kept during my term of service--the most of which I was able to save amid the vicissitudes of marches and battles. They strengthen and verify my recollections. And I will here submit an extract from my "Journal Notes," taken at the time, which gives my impressions of, and a glance at my experiences in that terrible vortex of battle in which we were on the evening of July 2, 1863.

"Gen. Hancock now sends his 1st Division to the relief of Sickles. It moves in with rapidity in fine order. The battle rages terribly. We pass the Trostle house where the Massachusetts battery has nearly been swept away--up on the Emmitsburg road west. But soon we are marched back by and south of Trostle's, form line of battle and pass on south, through corner of wheat field, on edge of which Gen. Zook is mortally wounded--on through strip of timber, over or around huge boulders. It is almost six o'clock when we are in line of battle, facing south and west--Col. Roberts killed in front of Regiment--right wing in open field under severe enfilading fire, suffer terrible losses--Lt. Col. Frazier, as soon as he realizes situation changes front of right wing to face Peach Orchard--our Company on left. We fire continuously. Serg't Boyd and I pass to left of Company as all are doing well their duty. We fire from big rock into bit of timber dark with smoke. I fire some 17 rounds. Boyd calls out, 'Orderly, they are falling back.' I fire a load I had just put in. Boyd has disappeared. I start back seemingly alone, going out about the way I came in--soon come up with others, but I do not know them--all running for dear life and Johnnie bullets rattling all about us. Crossing an open space, I could see the rebels close upon us to my left--they order me to surrender--but I can't see it--I'll run the risk, as I could see our lines to the right and some timber in front into which I soon pass, and get out of range. Could hear the rattling of the muskets of our lines. It was a bloody battle, but Co. K and the whole of the 140th acted nobly."

Back a little distance I found a few of our boys, and we found our way back to our field hospital. Through much of that night I assisted at the hospital. I held the arm of Lieut. Vance of Co. C while his hand was amputated. That to me was a most dreadful night. I slept soundly a few hours in the morning. Then joined the remnant of our noble Regiment on the line they held that eventful 3rd of July.

When the smoke of battle in that fearful conflict in evening of 2nd of July, and that world renowned battle of the 3rd, most of which we saw distinctly, had passed away, K numbered her dead five: Serg't T. C. Hayes, Thomas J. Carter, Robert W. Hull, Wm. H. Miller and Jesse Sprowls. All good and true soldiers. I deeply felt the loss of "Clif." Hayes, my blanket mate, warm-hearted, noble-spirited, ever faithful. These were buried on the 4th, as best we could. I superintended the burial of Hayes and Carter. Hayes' remains were soon removed to the home graveyard in Cross Creek Village, Pa. Comrade Magill tells me that the remains of Carter were interred in the National Cemetery, Gettysburg, but that it is erroneously marked Carpenter.

Lieut. Cook and Serg't Shindle were taken prisoners. And our list of wounded were: Serg't Alexander, in arm and hand; Wm. Hanlin, in hand and leg; Robert Virtue, severely in breast; Robert Meldoon, in face and leg; Johnson Toppin, in shoulder; Ben Earnest, severely in face; Isaac Chisholm, in thigh; Jos. Corbin, in leg; Colin Nickeson, in breast.

Corp'l Wm. R. H. Powelson was promoted to be sergeant in place of Hayes, and James K. P. Magill to be corporal in his place.

One instance should here be related in K's favor. J. B. Allison, a private of this Company, was the instrument of saving the colors of our Regiment. I give it as he told it to me in a recent letter: "As we were falling back from our position near and in sight of the Peach Orchard, at Gettysburg, our color-bearer was severely wounded in the back. He fell forward, and raising himself partly up called to me to _save the flag_. I lifted him partly up and drew the flag staff from under him. I kept the flag in my possession for say a half hour, until I came up with the scattered group of the Regiment. I gave the flag into the hands of a corporal of Co. E (I don't remember his name). I believe he was finally made a captain." This, I am told, was Corporal Power.

The "fiery ordeal" of Gettysburg as a test found some wanting in true courage. And one faint heart in K was sifted out. George Star was missing when with our Corps we took up our march southward after Lee. And we had to report him _a deserter_, under date of July 15, '63. Comrade Mounts reports that Star was seen three years after and reported himself as having traded suits with a farm lad a short distance out from Gettysburg, and gone west.

K's readiness in coping with obstacles and meeting present emergencies was manifest when on July 17th the race to head off Lee's army being ended, we quietly turned in east of "Maryland Heights," below Harper's Ferry, to rid ourselves of a month's accumulated dirt together with the usual accompaniment, and the wholesale and retail slaughter of the _pediculos vestimenti_ was immense. Then, when on next day we came upon nature's own sanitary provision in fields of dewberries and what some foraging on the farms of Loudoun valley brought us, we toned up our impoverished and abused bodily systems, and further fitted ourselves for the active work in the months to come, in which we pushed the rebels back through Culpepper to the Rapidan, and then, when they were reinforced, ran with them a race for Washington, with the brisk encounter at Auburn, or "Coffee Hill" and battle of Bristoe Station, heading them off effectually at Centerville, and in turn pushing them back across the Rappahannock, with encounter here and there, and last the early winter dash and conflict at Mine Run, where the Johnnies were strongly entrenched, and finally settling down in good winter quarters at Stevensburg and near Brandy Station.

K shared in enough of the spices of soldier life to keep the boys in good humor and give them a zest for the hardships endured. Will Powelson and others of the Candor mess got off easily, when mustered up to headquarters by the provo-guard, having in their possession a good-sized pig, by a caution from Gen. Miles not to ever be _caught_ again. They got even with the General by sending him a neat roast from a hind quarter. And Silas Cooke tells of the wading of the Rapidan in the latter part of November when it cut like a knife, and charging up the heights into the rebel breast-works, and drying ourselves in the sun; then of the race after the long-tailed lamb, and the row of fat porkers all dressed that morning by the rebels, left in their haste, and divided among us. Some of our boys will remember the "hot coffee made from the contents of a whiskey canteen, which blistered our mouths while we swallowed it to the music of the long roll, and did not know what was the matter until the owner of the canteen (who had come in late and hung canteen on top of others, and, in Will Powelson's haste to make the coffee, was first to be taken) let it out." But let it pass now--42 or more years have passed--what matters it now whose canteen it was? He may be living and be serving the God of his fathers faithfully as an elder in some staid Presbyterian church. The circumstances were then trying, and possibly some one needed a warming up. Comrade McCalmont assures us that the coffee was _warming_ and made the marching enlivening to some of them, as we forced our way along on, as Cooke adds, "the march along the railroad, the camp in the cut, the fearfully cold night, and the troops the next morning stripped for the charge (at Mine Run) on the frosty hillside, but called off on account of the cold, the long, gloomy night of retreat amidst fires on either side to keep us warm (and light our way). Retreat No. 2 for the 140th, and the last I believe." So in all this campaign K sustained a worthy record.

Some changes had taken place. Enoch Mounts was discharged Aug. 22, '63, on surgeon's certificate of disability; Robert Virtue, one of Cross Creek's best young men, died from effects of wounds received at Gettysburg, in the hospital at Baltimore, Sept. 9, '63. Joseph C. Frazier was discharged on surgeon's certificate of disability, Sept. 30, '63, having been in hospital a long time. John W. Nickeson was on account of impaired health transferred to the Veteran Reserve Corps, Nov. 15, '63. John M. Day was discharged Dec. 12, '63, at Convalescent Camp, Philadelphia, on surgeon's certificate of disability. Ben F. Earnest, who had been severely wounded in face at Gettysburg, but had been back on duty for some time, died rather suddenly in camp near Brandy Station, on Dec. 14, '63. Here K lost one of its most devoted members. Corporal J. F. Gardner and James L. Noah were on Dec. 17, '63, transferred by special order No. 328, Headquarters Army of Potomac, to the Corps Artillery Brigade. These losses brought K's list down to 65. Wm. Porter was promoted corporal in the vacancy caused by the transfer of Gardner. Capt. Stockton had been detailed to service in the General Recruiting Station at Pittsburg, Pa., leaving the Company on July 29th. And Lieut. Sweeney was appointed, on Dec. 29, '63, to duty at 2nd Corps headquarters; later he was assigned to duty at Gen. Barlow's headquarters, and in latter part of '64 he was appointed on the staff of Gen. Miles. Thus the Company was without a commissioned officer, and it remained so until about the latter part of June, '64.

In the latter part of December, '63, Serg't B. F. Powelson was given a furlough of ten days as a recognition of his services in looking after the Company's interests. And in the latter part of January he was assigned to recruiting service at Washington, Pa. And at close of this special duty he was granted leave to attend a military school at Philadelphia and to go before Gen. Casey's examining board at Washington, D.C.

During the winter K shared in picket and other duties and in the early spring reconnoissance to the Rapidan, "when we lay," says Silas Cooke, "and slept with the rain pouring down upon us from above and the water running under us--bones all aching--then back to camp."

During this time and up to the opening (May 1st) of campaign, K lost four more, as follows: James K. McCurdy was discharged Feb. 17, '64 by special order 78, War Department; Serg't Sam'l K. Shindle died March 17, '64, in Andersonville (Ga.) prison, buried in grave No. 1114. He taken prisoner at Gettysburg, was kept for a while on Belle Island, then in Charlotte, N.C., and finally was herded in that awful prison pen. Thus went out the life of one possessing many commendable traits as a soldier. Michael Daugherty died March 18, '64, Brandy Station, Va., from injury inflicted by the kick of a mule. He was buried in the National Cemetery, Culpepper, Va., Block 1, Sec. A, Row 4, Grave 17. He served well as a teamster in the Q.M. department. Isaac Chisholm was, on March 20, '64, transferred to Co. G, 9th Regiment, Veteran Reserve Corps.