Chapter III: Part 3

Early the morning of the 29th, rebel cavalrymen were seen in the distance and a few artillery shots were thrown at them. Col. Brown rode forward to reconnoiter, soon returning hotly chased by the naughty johnnies.

The route taken that day was toward the Rapidan. Late in the afternoon the column arrived in the vicinity of Germania and lay until after night, waiting for a bridge to be laid, for the enemy had destroyed the crossing. When all was ready, Co. G marched down to the river. A narrow passage had been prepared, by laying planks from one abutment to another, down close to the rapid flowing water. Large fires were burning on either bank to light the way. Co. G went over, cautiously, without wetting a foot. John Schultz had resigned; had he been present, it is likely he would have turned turtle, the same as he plumped into the slip at New York. But the entire corps got over safely and went into bivouac on the cold, wet ground. No fires were allowed until daylight.

The halt after crossing the Rapidan is known in the annals of Co. G as the time and place where Brock was detailed to guard the fiddle of Ziba, the cook.

Now the boys were to march in the enemy's country. Before crossing at Kelly's Ford, the regiment was drawn up and reminded that the eyes of Cortland and Madison counties were upon them, which was no news to the heroes. Col. Brown's tone on such occasions sounded very solemn as though the eyes of those counties were sad.

The boys respected Col. Brown; they could not blame him for not showing a cheerfulness he did not possess. There was something about those speeches suggestive of a lack of confidence; it is believed the one delivered at Kelly's Ford was the last of the series. Col. Arrowsmith never commanded the boys in battle. The methods of Col. Carmichael will appear as the record develops.

April 30th opened misty and unpleasant. The road passed into the celebrated Wilderness, finally striking the Fredericksburg plank road. In the afternoon the destination of the 11th Corps was reached, and the men were bivouaced nearly in position for battle.

May 1st the historic order congratulating the right wing of the army was read to the men. "That the enemy must either ingloriously fly, or come out from behind his defenses and give us battle on our own ground." He came, he saw, and the result is history.

The troops were ordered to burn all clothing and prepare for light-marching order. The Army of the Potomac was preparing for a lively race toward Richmond. Such an order proved wise and timely, and much was destroyed that otherwise would have fallen into the hands of the enemy.

Towards night the 157th was moved forward nearer the plank road and ordered to strike arms and rest. Appearances favored a fight. Soon after dark a rebel battery threw some shells over the line and Co. G, for the first time heard the bang! pop! whi-z-z! of shelling; no one was struck. But few shells were thrown, when all was quiet again. Johnny reb. was only feeling for Co. G.

Many of the boys long remembered the whip-poor-will chorus in the woods about them, as they lay behind their guns that night. When the rebels opened fire the birds ceased at once. The enemy had spoiled the concert.

May 2d was Saturday. Fresh beef was issued to the men about noon time, and the company cooks proceeded to arrange their kettles for boiling the meat.

All this time Stonewall Jackson is approaching Hooker's right flank. Several officers from the picket line came in and reported to headquarters of Howard, that the enemy were working around on the right. Maj. Carmichael, of the 157th, was on the line; he was one of the brigade officers-of-the-day. Those officers by message and in person informed the commander of the 11th Corps that the enemy were moving in force.

Says Maj. Carmichael, "All these messages received the reply that we were green troops more scared than hurt."

About the time the officers from the picket line were trying to arouse Gen. Howard to action, Gen. Hooker sent him these instructions:

"The disposition you have made of your corps has been with a view to a front attack by the enemy. If he should throw himself upon your flank he [Hooker] wishes you to examine the ground and determine upon the position you will take. * * * He suggests that you have heavy reserves well in hand to meet this contingency. * * * We have good reason to suppose that the enemy is moving on our right. Please advance your pickets * * * in order to obtain timely information of their approach."

Howard's headquarters were lethargic; his troops were enjoying themselves.

Stonewall Jackson was a very busy man while Howard was reclining very comfortably at Dowdall's Tavern.

While the events just related were occurring the boys of Co. G were writing letters which the chaplain was to carry away and mail. One of those letters, written on a drum-head, portrays a scene as follows:

"Nearly all the privates in Co. G are on picket. It is a novel sight to see the men, who are in good spirits, taking their ease. Some chatting, some cooking, others playing cards, while many are writing: but the most of them are sleeping."

It was about this time that Jackson was conducted to a knoll overlooking the position of Howard's men. He saw the whole display of neglect--the absence of supporting columns and all. And he started his men forward.

Near five o'clock p.m. the storm broke. First a few shots and then a volley. From the extreme right came rushing a crowd of supernumeraries of all grades. Thirty thousand rebels had surprised the first division of the 11th Corps. A portion of the first and also of the third divisions were absent reconnoitering. Back came the first division upon the third, followed by the exultant enemy. The boys of the first division did all they could, but what could they do?

Col. Brown was ordered forward and then countermarched to a position east of the Hawkins house and behind some shallow rifle-pits thrown up the night before. Gen. Schimmelpfennig says, reporting to Gen. Schurz--

"The first line of our division in connection with Col. Bushbeck's brigade of Gen. Steinwehr's (2d) division, formed behind two of our regiments, the 82d Illinois and the 157th N.Y., (the first commanded by Col. Hecker and the second by Col. Brown) and occupied the rifle-pits. * * * Your two brigades and that of Col. Bushbeck, together comprising not quite 4,000 muskets, alone received the entire shock of the battle and held the enemy in check at least an hour. The three brigades above-named although both their flanks were turned, stood their ground until a sufficient time had elapsed for the other corps to come to their assistance and take position in their rear. * * * For the surprise on the flank and rear, in broad daylight, by a force outnumbering us four to one, the responsibility falls not on the third division. * * * General, I am an old soldier. Up to this time I have been proud of commanding the brave men of this brigade; but I am convinced if the infamous lies uttered about us are not retracted and satisfaction given, their good will and soldierly spirit will be broken."

Good, brave "little Schimmel," their soldierly spirit was not broken, and they were yours to lead for many a weary mile through stifling dust and burning heat.

The battle of Chancellorsville has gone into history and may be found therein by any person who wishes to follow the battle. So far as Co. G are responsible, little more need be said.

After the terrible experience near the Hawkins house, the 157th was withdrawn in excellent order and retreated, after some delay, to the rear of the newly formed line of battle. Adjutant McWilliams was dispatched in the gathering gloom, to find the proper road, and went straight into the rebel lines, and was forwarded to Richmond. Fortunately, the opposite direction was taken, and Col. Brown led his men safely out of the woods. They lay in reserve on Sunday and Sunday night, when the artillery of both forces shook the ground and filled the air with bursting shells. Early in the morning of May 5th the Army of the Potomac was withdrawn and in a miserable rainstorm dragged themselves across the Rappahannock and paddled through the mud back to their old camp on Accokick Creek. When they marched away they took the road--on their return they came across lots and found much easier traveling.

There was an important part played by Battery I, 1st Ohio Artillery, in the Chancellorsville fight that adds to the record of Schimmel's brigade, very much. Capt. Dilger, a Prussian officer, who commanded the battery faced the advancing men of Jackson until nearly cut off, losing one gun. He then retreated down the plank road. Sending four of his guns to the rear he retreated leisurely, firing as he went and clearing the enemy from the road.

But the gallantry of the boys of the 11th Corps was overlooked in the general casting of results. There must of course always be a scape-goat for blunders in war, and it would not have done to place the blame upon West Point graduates.

The losses of the 157th regiment in the battle of Chancellorsville fight, aggregated about one hundred. Co. G lost, Asa Lawrence, killed; John Pfleiger badly wounded and Henry Whaling slightly wounded,--the least number hit of any company in the regiment. Co. A lost the most men in that battle--one lieutenant and three men killed and sixteen men wounded and missing. Co. B came next, with three men killed and ten wounded.

It was sad to think, after computing the fatalities and speculating upon the fate of the missing, that away up in Lenox the people were reading in the newspapers that Co. G were not so great a success, after all. That their dear boys had "marched up the hill," exchanged shots "and then marched down again." As communities, would Clockville, Hoboken, Wampsville and Canastota have preferred to see their sons brought home on their shields rather than had Hooker made a failure? Perhaps so. Very likely. But Co. G were satisfied to live just as long as possible.

Nor did the galling tirades of War Critics cease with the passing of the moment. Before the War Committee of Congress, and in standard history, the bile of the enemies of the 11th Corps is spread the mark of Cain. Many of those critics are now dead, but their works do follow them. No Corps of the Army is so bitter in comment of this kind as the 1st Corps, and they did not reach the field until after Jackson was checked. Then there was still time to win laurels, fresh and brilliant. Ah, the world will never know why the corps did not come up in time to help Co. G whip the naughty Jackson.

One of the missing of Co. G was Dan Brockway, the bodyguard for Ziba's violin. A few days passed and the news came that Brock was a prisoner. But he was promptly exchanged and was soon present at roll-call.

"Brock, how about the violin?" asked one.

"Well it was this way, boys. I was in the tent, when the rebs came and told me to crawl out. They sent me to the rear."

"And the fi-f-f-fiddle," asked John Miller. "T-t-tell us about the--here--here--f-fiddle."

"Oh, I carried the fiddle with me. By and by along came a reb and wanted to borrow the thing. I told him it belonged to Ziba, and I didn't like to part with it. 'Oh,' says the johnny, 'I'll take good care of your fiddle; there's a right smart of we'uns can play.' So I let him take it and he never brought it back."

"I'll tell you what, b-boys, we oughter do. Jest take the b-blamed little cuss over there and exchange him for the here--here--fiddle. What do you say, boys--hey?"

It was a dreary reception the boys found on their return to their old shanties. Rain was falling and the interiors of the huts were thoroughly soaked. But they stretched once more their tent covering and moved in. Fires were started and fresh boughs laid upon the bunks, so it was not long before everyone was comfortable and the routine of camp once more established.

Then came fresh soft bread again and other food, denied to a campaigner. The sutler returned from his retreat to safe quarters. He had learned the tricks of the men and they had learned something of him. He was not a bad man, by any means. Occasionally a hole was cut in his tent, and canned food and tobacco disappeared from right under his eyes. In such matters of course, Co. G had very little to say.

There were a few boys in the company who were sharp in dealing with sutlers. They were pleasant comrades and did their duty, but if opportunity presented, they were not slow to act. One of them, usually was well supplied with fried pies, and pies sowed and pegged (suggestive of boot leather). This boy if asked how he obtained his truck, replied, "Oh, I coddled them." Poor boy, he fell at Gettysburg--a good soldier on duty, but a terror to sutlers.

There was another diversion upon which the pious element of Co. G frowned--poker playing. Col. Brown prohibited gambling. It was a still night and a dark one, when there was not a game of poker going on. And at "taps," which brought the officer-of-the-day around to see that all lights were out, blanket screens were arranged so that the light did not show through the tent roof. The click-clank of a sword as the officer approached, caused the light to disappear, and sure to be relighted as soon as expedient. With their caps between their knees, the candle propped up in a bayonet, and a hard-tack box for a table, they whispered back and forth and shuffled and dealt until some of those caps were filled with postal currency. But poker was not the only game played in the tents--euchre was a standard game.

Soon after the return from Chancellorsville the winter camp was abandoned, for sanitary reasons. Added to accumulated foulness nearer by, the half-buried corpses of a number of mules and horses out beyond the parade ground, were beginning to pollute the air.

The place had been home to the boys. Its associations to many were pleasant, to others, saddening. One of Co. G's boys had died while there and was buried in the little enclosure back of the camp. His name was Foltz. The surgeons said he died of home-sickness. His friends soon after removed the body.

But camp must be changed. Precisely as with some people renting houses, it is more convenient to move frequently, if they can thus avoid house-cleaning. Thus was it with the 157th, and a summer camp was established on Greens Farms, not far from the old one.

The new camp was neatly arranged, tents raised from the ground, company streets turnpiked and adorned with evergreens, and at the head of each street was an arch bearing the company letter in cedar sprigs. Fine water gushed from beneath a huge gum tree below the hill, supplies of all kinds were abundant and the men of Co. G kept in health.

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.

"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.

Out on the wheatfield lay Col. Arrowsmith, Captains Backus and Frank and Lieut. Lower, while thirty-three enlisted men, dead, marked the regimental alignment. Capts. Adams and Briggs, Adjutant Heenye, Lieuts. Smith, Waters, Gates, Atwater and Fitch, and acting lieutenants Harrington and Benjamin, wounded. Of enlisted men more than two hundred were wounded, some of them slightly, many severely. Two officers and twenty-one men died of wounds, making causality list foot nearly two hundred and sixty men, and fifteen officers.

Capts. Stone, Place and Charlier were captured, also Lieuts. Coffin, Powers and Curtice. Capt. Stone died in prison at Macon, Ga. Capts. Place and Charlier were exchanged eight months later, or in March, 1864. The three lieutenants were sent to Macon, and later to Charleston, S.C., where they were impounded with other officers under fire of the Union guns; but when six hundred rebel officers were sent down to Morris Island to be placed under fire, the Charleston commander removed the Yankee officers to a pen in rear of the city. And while Co. G had no representative among those officers, their hearts went out to them, and thus are they here remembered.

Eighty-six men were prisoners. Of those, thirty-seven accepted the parole offered by Gen. Lee and with about seventeen hundred others, were escorted to Gen. Couch's lines near Carlisle; the other forty-nine went to Richmond. There were ten of Co. G, prisoners, six of whom took the parole--two went to Richmond. The paroled prisoners were sent to Carlisle, Pa., where they were kept for awhile in fine style, and ultimately were returned to their regiments without exchange. The company took into the fight about forty muskets.

KILLED.

Capt. Harrison Frank.
Albert D. Bridge.
John A. Hart.
Luzerne E. Johnson.
Durell Moore.

WOUNDED.

Lieut. Frank E. Gates, groin.
Corporal Jas. B. Hooper, arm.
Corporal Nicholas Binges, side.
Private Amos Avery, shoulder.
Private Peter Agan, leg.
Private Robert Farrington, arm.
Private Joseph Hart, leg.
Private Wm. Miller, hand.
Private Wm. Pease, leg.
Private James L. Travis, arm and shoulder.
Private John H. Roe, face.

Col. Brown was very much cast down over his losses. Who to blame, will never be known. There was a horrible blunder and some one was blamable. The 157th never should have been sent out against Dole's Brigade of Georgians. They had fought two regiments alone and unaided. A wonder that any of the boys left that wheatfield unhurt.

That was only one of the many little blunders of the war. The North kept on bleeding and her officers never lacked words for defense. Nothing new and withal, consistent. The soldiers were there to give their lives, if need be, and a good soldier will not hesitate over so trifling a matter. There was glory in the air, though. One could fairly taste it when Lee turned back for Virginia with his heart heavy. The cause of secession and human slavery had started down to destruction and the people of the North rejoiced.

Yet there were many desolate homes in the North. The babes of the South and the babes of the North clung to their mothers' knees and asked them why they wept--mercifully were they denied a share in the glory of the hour. Aged parents sat in the corner and mourned, until they were reunited with their slaughtered boys. Ah, the fatalities in that war were not confined to the boys in blue.

The wounded men of the regiment were gathered together and cared for by surgeons of both armies, while the battle was pending. When the Union army gained possession of the village, everything possible was done to alleviate suffering. Nurses came from all directions: many women and among them Sisters of Charity. Theirs was a noble work.

Very feeble are words to express the tender care of the women nurses in the war. The youngster who pores over war history will drink in all the horrors of battle scenes, or feed his imagination with cannon smoke. He will not care to gather the groaning victims and bear them from the field. Then, the sickening odors of human blood which one scents everywhere. Yet, amid those dreadful scenes those nurses went. They bathed the fevered faces, they moistened the parching throats. From hastily appointed kitchens they supplied tempting broth, or by woman's magic produced cooling drinks.

The women of the war. History says little of them, but the hearts of thousands of soldiers are theirs.

July 5th the regiment was marched back toward Emmettsburg, eight miles. Next day the little band moved into that village. By calling in detached men and by the return of all available men, the command had reached the number of eighty. Col. Brown was assigned to duty elsewhere. Maj. Carmichael was on the staff of Gen. Schurz. The command of the 157th devolved upon Capt. Bailey, with two or three lieutenants. They made two companies of the battalion and the state colors waved above them.

The honor of Lenox had been sorely tried at Gettysburg and the reduced ranks of Co.'s B and G bent now under the weight of responsibility. Still there was no shrinking, they were yet on a war-footing even if their shoes were dropping from their feet.

They were not a very attractive little band of warriors as they shuffled and limped into Middletown about 10 p.m., July 7th. But they were very thankful for a rain storm which softened the roads and thus eased the bruised feet. It had been a rough march over the Chitocton Mountain, the sun pouring down hot, the pathway rough, with plenty of climbing. Thus they toiled over nearly twenty miles, encouraged on the way that shoes awaited them in Middletown; but they were disappointed.

A rest was given until the 9th and as the whereabouts of Lee was then known, the army was set in motion. On that day Co. G were on the road, their shoes were worn out and their feet very nearly so, but the boys made the best of it and dragged along in the hot, muggy atmosphere, over Smith Mountain, camping near Boonsboro after a very trying march of six miles only.

They lay at Boonsboro on the 10th, where shoes were issued. On the 11th the boys marched out on the Hagerstown Pike, in the advance and camped. Next day, July 12th, Major Carmichael assumed command. Col. Brown was temporarily at the head of a brigade in another division.

On the 10th Gen. Howard had issued his "General Order No. 18.--The General again thanks his command for what has been done during the last month.... The Eleventh Corps, as a Corps, has done well--well in marching, well in fighting. The sacrifices it has made shall not be forgotten--in the retrospect your General feels satisfied. Now we must make one more effort; let there be no wavering, no doubt."

That was a sickly sort of cheer to send to Co. G, the lonesome, the ragged and destitute. Yes, Gen. Howard, you are satisfied, but Co. G are not. They are forlorn. Their laurels hang over their brows, wilted and stale. You are not a vain man. But never forget, that a peacock may look "in the retrospect" and be satisfied. "Let there be no wavering, no doubt." Had that fine regiment but "wavered," General Howard, they would not now be so few.

Following is taken from Gen. Lee's "General Order No. 16," dated July 11th, 1863, to his defeated army: "Once more the eyes of your countrymen are turned upon you, and again do wives and sisters, fathers, mothers and helpless children lean for defense upon your strong arms and brave hearts." It was the production of an enemy, but just the sort of stuff to stir the blood of men. Lee knew if he showed lack of confidence in his men, he weakened them. But enough of this. The 11th Corps has fought hard and won a blackened eye on the pages of history. Occasionally they are "damned with faint praise," just to save the record of some general.

The 157th was at this time, July 12th, annexed to the first division of the 11th Corps, in the brigade commanded by Gen. Adelbert Ames.

On the morning of that day, with fresh accessions from hospitals and other sources, the 157th had increased its numbers to one hundred.