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.
"Little Schimmel" remained too long to look after his men and nearly
was captured. As he spurred away his horse was shot. The general sprang
into a side street, which proved to be a cul de sac. He climbed a fence
and found himself in the garden of Henry Garlach. The rebels were
rapidly spreading over the town, and escape by the street was
impossible. He espied the Garlach woodshed. Near the outer door stood a
swill-barrel, and back of that was wood, cut for the stove. "Schimmel"
was a small man. He cleared a space behind the barrel, where he
secreted himself by piling wood about him. There was a small peep-hole
through the wood and when Mrs. Garlach came into the shed, the general
whispered to her, told her he was a Union officer and begged her not to
betray him. Rebels were going through the houses searching for Union
soldiers. They entered the wood-shed even. Although she was terribly
anxious lest the rebs should find a soldier secreted on the premises,
Mrs. Garlach did not forget that the general might be hungry. Her son
was a lad of ten or twelve years, and she whispered to him aside, then
handing him a large pail in the bottom of which rested a cup of water
and some bread, she said aloud for the benefit of some rebel soldiers
in the house--
"James, take this pail to the shed and get some swill for the pigs."
The boy successfully passed the food to the general, which was all he
had for sixty hours.
July 4th, when the Union troops reentered the town "Schimmel" came
forth, mighty stiff, but otherwise in fair condition. And when his old
regiment found him they wept; they hugged and kissed the little man;
better pleased than if he had been killed and buried ten feet deep in
honors. They believed he had been taken prisoner.
When Orderly Forbes gathered in all they could find of Co. G, he had
about a dozen men. (The word "about" is used because there were a few
detached men). The corps was once more in position on Cemetery Hill.
The 157th remnant lay with the reserve on the site of the present
National Cemetery. And lay they did, on July 2d, and very flat. The
rebels had concentrated their artillery fire upon that part of the
line.
Just at dusk this reserve was ordered out on the right. The men were
ready. The 157th followed the 61st Ohio, a veteran regiment; together
they numbered less than one hundred men. By some mistake the 157th
party became divided, a portion following Col. Brown and the others,
Capt. Place. It was a night without a moon, and in the shadowing woods,
very dark. Just as the 61st and the detachment of the 157th under Capt.
Place, "had reached the angle of our line," writes that gentleman, "a
volley was fired from behind a stone wall in the edge of the wood ...
the woods beyond were all ablaze with musketry ... several of the
detachment were killed or wounded. The officer commanding the 61st
ordered his men to file to the right and left as fast as they could.
Our men were ordered to follow. When out of range the boys were halted
and it was then discovered the colors were missing." The color-bearer,
Geo. H. Davis, of Co. A, had been wounded.
Capt. Place felt, as soldiers should feel, at such a time. And the eyes
of Cortland and Madison were upon them. Believing that they had been
fired upon by Union troops, Captain Place, with privates Marcus
Livingstone of Co. C, and Francis M. Gault of Co. G, went back to find
the flag, but they found that the rebels had advanced their lines, and
they were soon prisoners.
Once more did Co. G try to score a point for the old flag. One of their
boys had brought it from the deadly wheatfield, and was wounded.
Another had volunteered to accompany the gallant Place, and was
captured. Gault had a taste of rebel prisons from Richmond to
Andersonviile, returning to the company in April, 1865.
On July 3d the remnant of the 157th, then pretty well banged-up, were
withdrawn from the front and placed on provost duty at the quarters
occupied by Gen. Schurz.
The first roll-call after the battle occurred the evening following.
Thirty-nine privates, eight corporals and four sergeants answered to
their names. The entire regiment, July 2d, consisted of Col. Brown,
Major Carmichael, Captain Place of Co. C, Lieuts. Jenkins of Co. B and
Tallman of K, and fifty-six men. Other officers were present at the
time of the fight, but were not acting with the regiment.