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.
[Illustration: SILAS COOKE
(From a recent Photograph)]
The names of the following recruits had been added to the roll: William
A. Jackson, Florence, Pa., mustered in as a private, Feb. 29, '64; John
W. Tucker, Florence, Pa., mustered in as a private, March 1, '64; James
A. Cummins, Cross Creek, Pa., mustered in as a private, March 29, '64.
These additions made the number on our roll, May 1, 1864, sixty-four.
Excluding those on detached duty and the absent sick and Lieut. Cook, a
prisoner, and we had but 47 for all duty on the battlefield.
J. Smith Graham was promoted sergeant in vacancy caused by the death
of Shindle, and James C. Lyle took Graham's place as corporal. John
A. McCalmont served as corporal in the Color Guard. Lieut. Ray was by
detail in command of K from May 1st through May 8th. Captains Linton
and Kerr and a Lieutenant of Co. E also had command of K at different
times during the absence of her own commissioned officers. Corporal
Cooke says that Capt. Kerr had the command at Spottsylvania C.H.
As the writer was not with the Company when the Army of the Potomac
began its famous _on to Richmond_ under Grant in May, and until the
latter part of June, when the 140th was before Petersburg, he depends
mostly upon what the comrades who were present can furnish for K. And
he congratulates his comrades in having Corporal Cooke to aid in the
matter. He speaks for K up to May 12th, when a wound laid him aside
and he was no more with us. He tells us that in passing over the
Chancellorsville battleground he gathered some flowers, which he sent
home, and they are preserved unto this day. He tells us of the charge
the 140th made in the Wilderness, when the rebels were massing to
break the Union lines in a weak place. Col. Frazier, thinking we had
better be doing something as the balls were falling thick about us as
we lay in line of battle, received permission of Gen. Miles to go in
on a charge. The Colonel gave his orders, and, it goes for the saying,
they were executed. We went in on the double-quick (the double-quick
of the 140th was always a run), yelling like mad, halted as we reached
position beyond and over a small remnant of the Irish Brigade, then
fired front, then right, then left, then front until no enemy returned
our fire. Prisoners taken reported that we broke by these volleys
three lines of battle, and, night coming on, they gave up their
charge, thinking a large force was in their front. Gen. Hancock gave
us great praise for it. So quickly was it done that but few casualties
occurred. Cooke was hit on right thigh by a spent bullet, cutting
clothing and breaking a pocket knife, badly bruising but not disabling
him.
K took part in another charge on May 8th at Todd's Tavern, but suffered
terribly there. Comrade Isaac Miller says that it was known as the
"Cracker Fight," because Commissary Noble was in the act of issuing
rations of crackers when the onset came. Cooke says that the 140th
(except K and another Company) were on picket, under Capt. McCullough.
K and the other Company were lying in the edge of a woods, along which
a road ran, turning into the woods just where they lay; and the rebels
came up on the opposite side of the valley and opened fire. Gen. Miles,
riding along, was compelled to seek shelter. Abram Andrews of K was
struck and bruised some. As Gen. Miles passed on, Col. Brady thought he
would do something, and ordered part of his Regiment, lying to the
right, to charge out over an open field in our front and down into the
valley in open view of the rebels. Then he ordered our two companies to
charge out on the left of his men, and to cheer as we went in. And
there in one volley many of K fell. Cooke was first in file. The one in
his rear and six to his left were killed or wounded. The killed were
John Maloy and John W. Tucker. Many of the wounded were left on the
field, as the Union lines were pushed back. I cannot refrain from
relating what Isaac Miller told me in a letter written Aug. 19, '04. A
sad story, indeed! He was severely wounded in leg and thigh. Was at the
foot of the Company. John Maloy was at the head; and both fell and lay
the Company's length apart. Maloy was wounded about in same place as
Miller. They could not move, but could talk to each other. Miller lay
there for five days, then the rebels carried him back to a barn and
later to their field hospital. He plead for Maloy. But they said he was
too far gone. On the eighth day he died, so they told Miller; and then,
at Miller's appeal, they promised to bury him. Who could keep the tears
back when told of how one of our brave comrades thus gave up his life
in the service of his country? It is some relief to hear it whispered
that in those long days of suffering some ladies of the farm did what
they could to care for him and others like him. Let us hope it was so,
and that the angels of God's love comforted him.
Cooke says that Tucker fell before him at the rail fence where we
stopped to fire, pierced in the temple by a ball, and there George
Sprowls had his hair combed by a ball that took the cap from his head.
Cooke adds, "Then came the order to fall back to main line. It was a
beautiful but sorrowful Sabbath day. Then came the Po river excursion,
where the whole line in the darkness fired at a dog--the artillery
duel, where a number of our boys perished as we lay behind our battery.
Then the all night march through the rain and mud to Spottsylvania--the
massing of troops, and, at early dawn, the famous charge of the 2nd
Corps, through the open fields upon the rebel breast-works, over them
and along them to the right, capturing two batteries, three Generals,
with Johnson's whole Division as prisoners; on down works to right,
then out towards enemy's second line. Murky, foggy, no rebels to be
seen, but balls flying thick as evidence of their presence; when thud!
a ball took me in the right side and arm, whirling me round and down. I
was just crawling toward the protection of a small earthwork in the
rear of the main works when I looked up and saw George Ralston coming
along. He helped me back as far as the provo-guard, passing on our way
Jim Cummins, wounded through both thighs. It was the last seen of the
brave recruit of 16 years. Ralston left me sitting with my back against
a tree. Then a drummer boy helped me back to an empty army wagon used
as an ambulance. As chance would have it, Will Powelson, also wounded,
got into same wagon and rode to the Corps hospital. We kept together
until we got to hospital at Pittsburg, Pa., and remained together till
he went back to the Regiment. A splendid friend. That ride in an army
wagon with an ounce ball grinding around near my back bone was the most
excruciating experience I ever had. I have the ball yet. Can say I
caught one ball and stopped another in those two innings. How many I
struck out I do not know."