In the ranks: from the Wilderness to Appomattox Court House. The war, as seen and experienced by a private soldier in the Army of the Potomac

w^-

\ \L \

R. E. McBRIDE.

IN THE RANKS

FROM THE

Wilderness to Appomattox Court-House.

THE ^A^AR,

AS SEEN AND EXPERIENCED BY A PRIVATE SOLDIER IN THE
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.

By rev. R. E. M'BRIDE,

A tale of the times of old. The deeds of days of other years.

— OSSIAN.

CINCINNATI :
PRINTED BY WALDEN & STOWE,

FOR THE AUTHOR.

iSSi

^'^y^

THE NliVV YQP.K
PUBLi: UETIARY

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by

R. E. M'BRIDE,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress , at Washington.

c c c t e c'

PREFACE.

TN giving this book to the public we do so
-■- under the same plea which justifies those
pleasant gatherings called "reunions," where
men of the same regiment, corps, or army,
meet to extend friendly greetings to each
other, to friends, and all comrades in arms.

The writer has found it a pleasant task to
recall the scenes of fifteen years ago, when, a
mere boy in years, he had a part in the events
here recorded. He is conscious of a kindly
affection toward the men who were his com-
panions during those stirring times. Kind-
ness, thoughtfulness, forbearance, toward the
boy-soldier, are not forgotten. If he found
any thing different from these in his inter-
course with men or officers, it has passed from
memory, and he would not recall i>t if he could.

4 Preface.

We trust, also, that this work may have a
mission of utiUty to the generation that has
grown up since the war.

There is a certain ahnost indefinable some-
thing, which has been summed up under
the expression, "military traditions." This
comes not alone from formal histories of the
wars of the nation, but more largely from the
history which each soldier carried home with
him after the war was over. It meant some-
thing more than a certain amount of small
family vanity, when men used to say, **My
father was a soldier of the Revolution ; " "My
father fought at Lundy's Lane."

There lay back of this the stories told to
wondering little ones while they gathered
around the arm-chair of the soldier grand-
father. Here were planted the seeds of mil-
itary ardor that found expression at Gettys-
burg, Vicksburg, Atlanta, and the Wilderness.
It is thus the past of the nation projects itself
into the present. Our comrades that sleep
down yonder guard their country more effect-
ually than if, full armed, they kept unceasing

Preface. 5

watch on all her borders. Though dead, they
yet speak, — yes live, in the spirit which yet
lives in the hearts of their countrymen. The
cause they died for our children will love ; the
institutions they preserved at such cost, our
sons will perpetuate by intelligent devotion to
freedom and her laws.

Is it in vain, then, my comrade, that I sit
down in your family circle, and tell your chil-
dren the story of our hardships, trials, reverses,
victories?

This narrative is submitted to you almost
as first written, when intended only for the
perusal of my own family. In recounting
events subsequent to August 19, 1864, when
the One Hundred and Ninetieth is spoken of,
the One Hundred and Ninety-first is also in-
cluded, as they were practically one.

Since completing the work, the author has
learned that the report of the Adjutant-gen-
eral of Pennsylvania gives these regiments,
the One Hundred and Ninetieth and One Hun-
dred and Ninety-first, no credit for service sub-
sequent to the battle of Welden Railroad, in

6 Preface.

August, 1864. We give an explanation of
this in tiie closing chapter, and send forth this
volume, hoping that it may serve, in some
measure, to do justice to as devoted a body
of men as Pennsylvania sent to the field.
Seneca, Kansas, March, 1881.

CONTENTS.

Alexander, John,
Appomattox Battle,
Amusements,

Bethsaida Church,
Birkman, Capt., .
Boggs, Lieut., .
Baiers, Lieut.,

Carle, Col., .
Coleman, Mike,
Coleman, Sergt.,
Culp, Eckard,
Craig, Wm.,

Delo, Chaplain,
Dodds, Jasper, .
Dunn, Geo., .
Dillinger, .

Eshelman, Abe, .
Elliot, John, .
Execution,
Edgar, John,

93.

25
215
158

66
118

35
21

94, 100, 225
26, 68, 172, 182

47, 72

39

59
21

134
121

85
28

133
170

Contents.

Fort Federal Hill,
Fort Steadman,
Five Forks Battle,

Gaines' Mill Battle,

Ginter, . . . .

Ghosts,

Graham, Daniel, .

Gravelly Run Battle,

Grossman, Louis, .

Harris, Wm., .
Hatcher's Run Battle, .
Hartshorn,
Hayden, Lieut.,
Hop,

Jones, Capt.,

KixsEY, Capt.,
Kenedy, W. H. H.,

M'CULLOUGH, M. F.,
M'Guire, J., .
Miller, Ed.,
Moreland, C. L., .
]\Iortars,
Mushrush, Benj., .

North Ann River Battle,
Overdoff. .

PAGE.
112

162
188

20

217

49
60

172
40

135

148

73
73, 221

135
• 31

73.

I2C

•

224

31

.

135

182

63.

100

88

.

27

62

Contents. 9

PAGE.

Petersburg, 85

Pattee, Col., . . . -73. 85, 118, 179, 219

Peacock, Lieut., .118

Preston, Geo., 121

Quaker Road Battle, . . . . .171

RoBBiNS, 215

Rowanty Creek Battle, 148

Running the Gauntlet, 90

Rutter. Wm., 85

Ramrods, 93

Stanley, John, 3i> 69

Stewart, Joe, 25

Stewart, Capt., 22

Steen, David, 33

Shaffer, J., 68

Spottsylvania, 37

Walb, L. C, 204

Welden Railroad, 118

Welden Raid 124

White, Allen 31

White Oak Swamp Battle, 75

Wilderness Battle, 30

Woods, O'Harra, 22

Wright, Ernest, 218

Whisky, .....,,. 140

INTRODUCTION.

I HAVE long' purposed the following work,
designing to put in a form somewhat per-
manent my recollections of experiences in the
great war, believing it may be a source of sat-
isfaction to my children in later years. Al-
ready many of those scenes begin to appear
dim and dreamlike, through the receding years,
and many faces, once so clearly pictured in
memory as seen around the camp-fire, in the
march, and on the field of battle, have faded
quite away. These things admonish me that
what is done must be done quickly.

In the following pages you will find the
names of men otherwise unknown, because
their part in the great conflict was an humble
one, yet none the less grand and heroic. This
is written during the brief and uncertain in-
tervals of leisure that may be caught up here
and there amid the pressing work of the pas-
torate. You will not, then, I trust, under-
value it because of literary blemishes. It is

12 Introduction.

history as really as more pretentious works.
It is a specimen of the minutice of history, a
story of tlie war as seen by a private in the
ranks, not by one who, as a favored spectator,
could survey the movements of a whole army
at a glance, and hence could, must, individu-
alize brigades, divisions, army corps. It is the
war in field, woods, underbrush, picket-post,
skirmish-line, camp, march, bivouac. During
1864 no memorandum was kept, and a diary
kept during the spring of 1865 was lost, with-
in a year after the close of the war. Hence
I have depended on memory alone, aided in
fixing dates, etc., by reference to written
works. Beyond this, the histories consulted
Avere of little assistance, as their record of
events sometimes differed materially from my
recollection of them. In such cases I tell
my own story, as the object is to record these
things as they appeared to me.

In recording events of which I was not
myself a witness, I give the story as heard
from the lips of comrades. Such portions are
easily discernible in the body of the narrative.
You can have them for what they are worth.

" I can not tell how the truth may be,
I tell the tale as 'twas told to me."

In the ^anks.

Chapter I.

^WAR!'

IT is a little word. A child may pronounce
it ; but what word that ever fell from hu-
man lips has a meaning full of such intensity
of horror as this little word? At its sound
there rises up a grim vision 'of ** confused
noise and garments rolled in blood." April
12, 1 86 1, cannon fired by traitor hands,
boomed out over Charleston harbor. The
dire sound that shook the air that Spring
morning did not die away in reverberating
echoes from sea to shore, from island to head-
land. It rolled on through all the land, over
mountain and valley, moaning in every home,
at every fireside, "War! War! War!"

Are we a civilized people? What is civ-
ilization ? Is it possible to eliminate the
tiger from human nature ? Who would have

14 In the Ranks.

dreamed that the men of the North, busy
with plowing and sowing, planning, contriv-
ing, inventing, could prove themselves on a
hundred battle-fields a fiercely warlike people?
The world looked on with wonder as the}-
rushed eagerly into the conflict, pouring out
their blood like water and their wealth with-
out measure, for a sentiment, a principle, that
may be summed up in the one word — "na-
tionality." ''The great uprising " was not the
movement of a blind, unreasoning impulse.
A fire had been smoldering in the North for
years. The first cannon shot, that hurtled
around the old flag as it floated over the walls
of Fort Sumter shook down the barriers that
confined it, and th.e free winds of liberty
fanned it to a devouring flame.

The Yankee — let the name be proudly
spoken — as he turned the furrow, stood by his
work bench, or listened to the jarring clank
of his machinery, had mused with heavy heart
and shame-flushed cheek how a haughty,
brutal, un-American spirit had drawn a line
across the land, and said, ''Beyond this is
not your country. Here your free speech,
fi-ee labor, and free thought shall never come."
While this line was imaginary, he had waited

''War." 15

for better days and larger thought to change
the current of the times ; but when it was
transformed into bristUng bayonets and frown-
ing cannon, the tiger rose up within him, and
with unquestioning faith he took up the gauge
of battle. Men talked of the ''cold blood of
the North." That blood had surged impetu-
ously through the veins of w^arrior freemen
for a hundred generations. Here in the New
World it had lost none of its vigor. The
sturdy spirit that in other years ruled the
hand that wielded the battle-ax, still ruled,
when the hand was employed in subduing
mountain and prairie. The North was averse
to war, because it was rising to that higher
civilization that abhors violence, discards brute
methods, and relies on the intellectual and
moral. Such a people, driven to desperation,
move right forward to the accomplishment of
their object with a scorn of cost or conse-
quences unknown to a lower type. Hence it
is that the people of the North, without hesi-
tation, grappled with a rebellion the most for-
midable ever successfully encountered by any
government. For a like reason their great
armies, melting away like frost before the
sun when the rebel flag went down, mingled

i6 In the Ranks.

again with the people without jar or con-
fusion.

Turning away from a half million graves,
wdierein they had buried their slain, their
bravest and best beloved, they forgot all bit-
terness for joy that peace had come. No
people in the world had greater reason for
severity than the victors in this strife. War,
willful, unprovoked, without the shadow of
justification, had been thrust upon them.
This had been preceded by a series of usurpa-
tions the most unblushing ever endured by a
free people. These were a part of the plan
of a band of traitors, w^ho had plotted for
j^ears to overthrow the existing order of
things, and establish an empire with human
slavery for its chief corner-stone.

The "Golden Circle," with its center at
Havana, Cuba, its radii extending to Penn-
sylvania on the North, the isthmus on the
south, and sweeping from shore to shore, w^as
the bold dream of the men who plotted the
destruction of the American republic. Their
object was pursued with a cold-blooded disre-
gard of all right, human and divine, worthy
of the pagan brutality of the Roman Trium-
virate. Prating about the ''Constitution"

"War." 17

with hypocritical cant, they trampled upon
every safeguard of popular liberty, and at last,
in defiance of even the forms of law, plunged
the people of the Southern States into a war
with the government, which, even if success-
ful in securing a separation, could only have
been the beginning of woes, as their plans
would develop.

But notwithstanding the heinousness of the
accomplished crime, not a man was punished.
It is doubtful whether popular opinion would
have approved the punishment of even the
arch-traitor, Jeff Davis. The common sen-
timent was expressed by the oft-repeated
verdict: "Enough of blood has been shed."
Whether this was wise or not it is vain to
inquire. Perhaps the future will vindicate the
wisdom of the generous course of the govern-
ment. Thus far it has seemed like folly.
The South has shown a persistent vindictive-
ness unequaled in the history of any people,
a cruelty toward the helpless victims of their
hate that is shameful to the last degree. The
cowardly assassination of political opponents,
the brutal murder of black men, women, and
children, has been defended openly or covertly
by pulpit, press, and platform. If any disap-
2

i8 In the Ranks.

prove, their voice is not heard in condem-
nation of the wrong.

This may have resulted partly from the fact
that many of the people of the North, notably
many so-called statesmen, ignored common
sense and gave way to gush and sentiment.
There is nothing gained in this prosy world
by calling black white. The leaders of the
rebellion were guilty of the horrible crime of
treason, and we baptized it something else.
The result is manifest to all who are not will-
fully and wickedly blind to the facts.

Yet it is the part of duty to hope for the
speedy coming of an era of calmer judgment,
of real and healthy patriotism, when every
American citizen will claim our whole land as
his coimtry.

Beginning of the War. 19

Chapter II.

WHEN the civil war began, my home was
with the family of Mr. John Dunn, in
Butler County, Pennsylvania. The old gentle-
man was a Democrat, and at first had little to
say about the war. One evening he returned
from the village in a state of intense excite-
ment. He had heard of the disastrous battle
at Bull Run. It is no exaggeration to say that
he "pranced" around the room, chewing his
tobacco with great vigor, telling how many of
our ''poor boys" had been slaughtered by

the rebels. His apathy was at an end.

He could see where the line lay between
treason and patriotism, when once that line
was traced in blood.

At this time two Butler County companies,
C and D, of the Eleventh Pennsylvania Re-
serve Volunteer Corps, were in camp near
Pittsburg. The corps was sent forward to
Washington at once, and from that time till
the close of their term of service, they gal-
lantly represented the Keystone State in every

20 In the Ranks.

battle fought by the Army of the Potomac.
My brother, Wm. A., was a private in Com-
pany C. He enlisted June lo, 1861, and fell,
with many other brave men, at the battle of
Gaines' Mill, June 2^ , 1862.

From what I could learn from those who
were present, the following are the facts con-
cerning the disaster which befell the regiment
in this engagement, and my brother's death:

Late in the afternoon of the 27th, the
Eleventh moved forward to relieve a New
Jersey regiment, which had been fighting in
a piece of woods near the center of the line.
The rebels came swarming against them, line
after line, but were continually driven back by
the relentless volleys that blazed out from the
ranks of the Eleventh. Unfortunately, about
the time they became engaged, the line on
either side of them was driven back, and they
were left to contend alone against terrible odds.
Neither men nor officers knew their real sit-
uation until men began to fall, from volleys
poured into them from the flanks. Major
Johns went in the direction from which the
fire was coming, thinking that some of our
own troops were firing on them through mis-
take. He was made prisoner. Adjutant

Prison. 21

M'Coy was ordered to report the condition of
things to General Mead. On reaching the
open ground, he saw the battle flags of nine
rebel regiments on the flank and rear. He at
once reported to the colonel. Orders were
given to fall back, the intention being to hew
a way out through the enemy. At this point
my brother fell. Having just loaded his gun
as the command was given to move toward
the rear, he paused to give a parting shot.
A bullet struck him in the face, penetrating
the brain, and he fell dead.

The regiment, hemmed in on every side
by overwhelming numbers, with one-fourth of
their number killed or wounded, at last sur-
rendered. Company D lost eight men, killed,
in this engagement, besides a number mortally
wounded or permanently disabled. Of the
former was Jasper Dodds, who was wounded
in the knee by a rifle ball. After being re-
moved to Richmond, he v/rote a cheerful let-
ter to his mother and friends at home, no
doubt expecting to recover. He died July
1 8th. Jacob Baiers, then sergeant, afterwards
promoted to captain, was shot through the
lungs, and never wholly recovered. He con-
tinued in service, however, until April, 1864.

22 In the Ranks.

The regiment was exchanged in time to par-
ticipate in the second Bull Run battle, where
again their loss was terrible. Seven men of
Company D were killed or mortally wounded.
It is said that Jesse Fry and Boss. M'Cul-
lough were the only men of the company on
their feet and unhurt at the close of the battle.
Scarcely were their ranks somewhat filled up
by returning convalescents, when the other
great battles followed. On every field they left
their dead. "South Mountain," *'Antietam,"
'* Fredericksburg, " — these words you can see
in the muster roll, after that word which even
yet chills the heart, "killed." Captain Stew-
art was struck through the breast at Freder-
icksburg, and died in two hours. Young
O'Harra Woods was promoted for gallant
conduct in this battle. The honor was well
bestowed and nobly borne. He fell at Gettys-
burg, July 2, 1863, bravely leading his men
in that great battle. But why particularize;
brave men all.

'•'Theirs not to make reply.
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die."

Enlisting. 23

Chapter III.

BUTLER COUNTY, famous for rocks,
hills, buckwheat, psalm-singing, and soap
mines. Psalm singing? Yes. The sturdy
Scotch-Irish that grew among her hills, as a
rule, would sing to the Lord with no other
Avords than those of the warrior king and the
holy men of old. Have you heard their sol-
emn songs? I hear them to-night — it is not
imagination, not ** their songs," but "our
songs." A voice of singing floats down
through the years, very holy and very ten-
der; for now all the singers are "evermore
before the throne," except two, whose infant
lips could scarce pronounce the words :

" Lord, bless and pity us,

Shine on us with thy face ;
That th' earth thy way, and nations all
May know thy saving grace."

Yes, psalm-singing! But the soap mines?
We protest! We have hunted huckleberries
on her hills ; we have pursued the ground-hog
in her woods, the 'coon around her corn-

24 In the Ranks.

fields ; we have swum and fished in her spark-
ling streams ; from Dan to Beersheba we
have worked, played, done "many things we
ought not to have done," and left undone
many things it was our duty to do; but we
never saw a soap mine. We can testify
before all the world that the people of Butler
County make their soap in the usual innocent
and odorous manner.

Prospect, Butler County, a dreamy village
of the olden time. The houses accommodate
themselves to the cross-roads. . One road
stretches from the county seat westward ; the
other from the "stone house" goes winding
along toward Pittsburg. The houses have also
a contented, self satisfied look; the stores and
the tavern seem to consider themselves per-
manent factors in the world's machinery. On
a pleasant day an "honorable" or two might
be seen sunning themselves in front of store
or tavern, whittling, and adding dignity to
the surroundings.

In this quiet village one chilly morning
in December, 1863, the writer mounted the
stage-coach and went rattling over the frozen
ground toward Pittsburg, to enlist in the
volunteer service. Just seventeen years ago

In Camp. 25

that very morning I had begun the business
of life on rather Hmited capital ; and although
it had been improved with considerable suc-
cess, yet the kindly prophecies, particularly
of my copperhead friends, did not portend a
very lengthy nor brilliant military career.
The next day I made my way to the provost-
marshal's office, and, after due examination,
was pronounced all right, and sworn into
the service. If I lied about my age, oblig-
ing memory has written it over with some-
thing else, and it is gone from me. But I

think Captain , of Prospect, did the lying;

at least let us hope that he has sufficiently
repented of it long ere this.

I selected Company D, of the Eleventh
Pennsylvania Regular Volunteer Corps, and
was assigned accordingly. The recruits were
retained for some time at Camp Copeland,
then about the dreariest, most uncomfortable
place I ever saw ; shelter and provisions in-
sufficient, bad whisky and blacklegs abun-
dant. Joe Stewart, John Alexander, and my-
self tented together here. They had enlisted
for the One Hundredth Pennsylvania, the
*' Roundheads." Joe was an old acquaintance.
He served gallantly till the close of the war.

26 In the Ranks.

John was a noble boy and found a soldier's
death at Cold Harbor. After one of the
fruitless charges made there, when the Round-
heads came back foiled of their purpose,
John was not with them. In the darkness o!
night which quickly closed around, Joe went
out to search for him. As he was picking
his way steathily among the dead and dying,
he heard a well known voice calling softly
near by, *'Joe, Joe, is that }'ou ?" It was
John, lying there, shot through the breast.
He warned his rescuer to be very cautious, as
the rebel videttes were near. With much
difficulty he got him back to our lines. This
was the night of June 2d, and he died on
the 4th.

I left the latter part of Januar)^ to join the
regiment, then camped at Bristor Station, on
the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. With
me were two recruits for Company E, Abe
Eshelman and Mike Coleman. The former
was killed at Petersburg ; the latter, a live
Irishman, was mustered out at the close of
the war, after a year and a half of valiant
service for his adopted country. We went
by Harrisburg, Baltimore, and Washington,
thence by the Orange and Alexandria road,

In Front. 27

every mile historic ground, past Bull Run,
where, the soldiers say, the dead would not
stay buried, and finally we alight at Bristor
Station. On the right over there are the
Bucktails ; a little further toward the west the
Second is camped. Over the hill toward
Brentsville, past the artillery camp, is the
Eleventh.

Here I found John Elliot, who had served
with the regiment since its organization. He,
brother William, and myself had been boy
companions before the war, although I was
younger than they. I went into the mess with
him, S. L. Parker, and Benjamin Mushrush.
After being with them but a short time, I
was taken with that scourge of the army,
measles, and was removed to the surgeon's tent.
I was on picket when the disease made itself
felt. The day and night on which I was on
duty were stormy, rain and snow. As a
result, I had a lively time of it. The disease
left my voice so impaired that, for a long
time, I was unable to speak above a whisper.
During my stay at the surgeon's tent, I em-
ployed myself studying his books on surgery,
and acquired a knowledge on the subject
which was utilized at a later period.

28 In the Ranks.

John Elliot had enlisted April 25, 1861,
although not mustered into the United States
service until July 5th of the same year. He
felt that he should be mustered out at the
former date of 1864. As the time drew near
we conversed frequently on the subject, and
he was in some perplexity as to duty in the
case. The morning of the 25th found him on
picket. I prepared the morning meal for the
mess and then relieved him until he should
breakfast. Soon he returned in a more than
usually cheerful spirit. After chatting pleas-
antly for a time, he spoke of his term of
enlistment.

" I have that matter all arranged now," he
said, ''as far as I am concerned. I am not
certain whether the government has a right
to hold me any longer or not ; but I will stay
till it sees fit to discharge me. The country
needs soldiers this Spring. I would like to
visit home. It 's been three years since I saw
mother and the boys ; but it 's all right. God
has kept me safely through all these battles,
and I can trust him for time to come."

This was the substance of his language,
his exact words, as near as I can remember.
They are noble words ; as grand as ever fell

John Elliot. 29

from the lips of Christian hero. Many a time
afterward they were an inspiration to me.
His face was bright that beautiful Spring
morning with a joy that was not of earth.
The night watches had been spent commun-
ing wdth God, — yes, face to face. Had he
known that the midsummer sun would look
down upon his grav^e, would his decision have
been different? I think not. He knew too
much of war and battles not to count the cost.
From a Southern prison-pen his brave spirit
went up to God.

30 In the Ranks.

Chapter IV-

APRIL 29th we broke camp and proceeded
to near Culpepper Court-house. Before
leaving camp we sent our extra baggage, cloth-
ing, etc., to Washington, and, of course, never
saw them again. During the night of May
3d we marched for the Rapidan, crossing at
Germania Ford. The next evening we camped
ill order of battle near the Wilderness Tavern.
The following morning the division moved out
on a country road toward Robertson's Tavern.
Passing through woods, Ave came to an open
field, where line of battle was formed. The
Bucktails were in front, skirmishing. We
could see them on the ridge, and their oc-
casional shouts and rapid firing showed that
the batde had begun. For the first time I
heard the whistle of the rifle ball, as a stray
one now and then whistled over the line of
battle. After Avaiting thus for some time, we
moved back some distance, in the direction
from which we had come. Here I spoke a

Wilderness. 3 1

few words with John Elliot, the last we ever
exchanged. In the confusion which followed
he was made prisoner, and died at Anderson-
ville. Soon the noise of battle began to deepen
in our front and at the right. Hurried orders
were received ; the line moved by the right
flank, double-quick. The Seventh Regiment
deployed and vanished into the woods, for-
ward, and the Eleventh followed in line of
battle. Moving on through the thick under-
brush, the enemy was quickly encountered.
Their first volley was deadly. A ball struck
Boss. M'Cullough in the forehead. He fell
dead, a portion of his shattered brain lodging
on the arm of John Stanley, a boy of seven-
teen, Avho had come to us during the Spring.
John shuddered, shook it from the sleeve of
his blouse, raised his gun and began firing.
Captain Jones, of Company A, White, of
Company C, and many others, fell dead before
this first volley. Soon it was discovered that
the division was flanked. Our line was at right
angles with the position in which the subse-
quent fighting took place. To crown all, the
woods took fire, and soon the only problem
that remained was to withdraw as quickly and
safely as possible.

32 In the Ranks.

While this turmoil was progressing, to me
so strange and bewildering, the surgeon, Dr.
Lyon, came across me, and directed me to go
to a certain point at the edge of the woods,
east of the Wilderness Tavern, to help care
for the wounded. Thither I made my way.
As I passed on through the woods, I was soon
out of reach of the bullets, which had been
flying thick and fast. When I came to the
open ground, I saw more clearly than ever
the results of the battle, still going on in the
woods beyond. The multitude of wounded
and dying men crowded the road. Some were
limping painfully along; others were being
carried on stretchers, or helped along by com-
rades.

Reaching the designated place, I found the
field tents erected, and all full of suffering
men. I took charge of one in which were
twenty-seven wounded, several amputations,
and other bad cases. They lay with their
heads toward the canvas, a narrow path be-
ing left between their feet. All that could be
done for them was to give them food and
water, bathe their wounds, and render any
litde service by which their sufferings might
be mitigated. Their heroic patience aston-

Battle. 33

ished me. Men, torn and mangled, would
utter no groan, nor give any vocal expression
to the agonies which racked them, except
sometimes when sleep or delirium found the
overmastering will off guard.

Toward evening I learned that the regi-
ment was just beyond the Wilderness tavern;
and, getting relieved for a short time, I started
to go to them, as I had the extra coffee of
the mess. As I came in sight, they moved
hurriedly away toward the right, where the
battle was raging fiercely. It was useless to
follow, and I began to retrace my steps.
Pausing a moment on an elevated knoll, I
gazed on the strange scene that spread out
before me. From the right on the turnpike,
a line, somewhat curved, extended a distance
of three or four miles to the left. On the
right the line was enveloped in woods, in
which a terrific conflict was going on. Sedg-
wick's corps was standing between the army
and disaster. In the center, on elevated
ground, beyond some low woods,. I could see
a rebel line of battle, while the sharp fire of
skirmishers in front showed that here the lines
of blue and gray would soon smite together.
Further toward the left, a line of blue ex-
3

34 In the Ranks.

tended along the edge of a narrow field, fac-
ing the woods just beyond, into which it
poured incessant volleys, while the smoke that
rose up from the woods showed that an active
foe was there. Behind our line, flat on
the ground, lay a second one. A tragedy,
grandly, awfully sublime, was enacting before
me. A hundred thousand men Avere grap-
pling in deadly conflict. While I gazed the
line of battle slackened its fire ; the second
one rose from the ground ; then both swept
forward across the field and into the woods
beyond, bearing the enemy before them. For
a few moments there was silence, and then
the struggle was renewed as fiercely as ever.
I returned to the field-tents to go on with my
work of mercy among the suffering.

As night drew on the battle ceased, and
the men lay down to sleep where they had
fought, ready to renew the strife at the return
of light. In the tents there, while the army
beyond was resting, part of our nation's
heroes continued the contest through tl*e
solemn hours of night. They fought with
the giant Pain, and some of them went down
into the dark valley, and close by the chill
waters they faced the King of Terrors.

Heroes. 35

I slept none that night. As morning ap-
proached, I went to the edge of the Httle
opening which had been cleared in the woods
for the tents. While I stood here looking off
toward the scene of yesterday's battle, the
sound of a single rifle shot rang out on the air,
then another and another, and then a deafen-
ing roar of musketry burst forth and raged
along the whole line, continuing almost with-
out interruption all day.

In the afternoon Lieutenant Boggs and
David Steen were brought in wounded, the
former by a rifle ball in the thigh, the latter
severely bruised by a fragment of shell. He
had been wounded at Gaines' IMill and Fred-
ericksburg. After his return this time, I
heard him say that he had come to have
more dread of going into battle since he had
been wounded so often. Still he never shrank
from duty. He was killed the following Au-
gust at Welden Railroad.

Here I saw the only instance of impa-
tience on the part of a wounded man of
which I have any recollection. A young
fellow lay about the middle of the tent,
wounded in the knee, a ball having cut the
skin on one bide without injuring the bone.

36 In the Ranks.

His long legs were extended almost across
the narrow path along which I was compelled
to walk in passing from one to another. He
was grumbling and complaining, demanding
and receiving attentions in a gruff and un-
civil manner. He would also mutter threat-
enings of what he would do should I hurt
him in stepping over his crooked legs out-
stretched in my way. To all of this I paid no
attention and signs of ill-nature continued.
Finally, a bright young man opposite, whose
leg was amputated at the thigh, raised him-
self on his elbow and proceeded to express
his opinion of such conduct in language much
more forcible than pious.

From this place we moved some distance
to the left, where the tents were erected in an
open field. Here an incident occurred which
illustrates the false estimate placed upon the
civilization of the North by the masses of the
South. A wounded rebel, an intelligent-look-
ing young man, was brought in from the field
in an ambulance. We came with a stretcher
to carry him into the tent. He looked at
us with a frightened, helpless look, and asked:
*' You won't hurt me, will you ?"
I assured him we would be just as careful

- Spottsylvania. 37

as possible. He seemed surprised to be
treated with kindness, having been taught,
evidently, that the Yankee invader was a
barbarian. Removed to the tent, I exam-
ined his wound. A bullet had passed through
the ankle joint, and the only remedy was
amputation. He inquired how it was. It
seemed hard to tell him that he must go
through life maimed.

"That is a bad foot; but the surgeons
will do the best they can for it. You may
lose it." Some time after he was removed, I
suppose to have his foot amputated, and I
saw him no more.

The next move was to Spottsylvania.
Grant had grappled with his enemy, intend-
ing to hold on ''all Summer." The same
spirit seemed to animate his army, from Gen-
eral Meade down to the latest recruit in the
ranks. The lines of blue came out from the
smoking underbrush of the Wilderness, their
ranks torn and decimated, and closed in
around the bristling batteries and rifle-pits of
Spottsylvania Avith a relentless courage that
was sublime.

Here the tents were pitched in a little,
open lot, a house to the right as you faced

38 In the Ranks.

the position where the fighting was in prog-
ress. The tents were not sufficient to contain
the wounded, and they lay on the ground on
the outside by thousands. Those long rows
of suffering forms, gashed and mangled in
every conceivable manner, told a dreadful tale
of human wrath. That gallant division, the
Reserves, had preserved their well-earned rep-
utation for stubborn valor at a terrible cost.
Their greatest loss was sustained in a single
onset against the rebel position. The enemy
was posted in strong rifle-pits, beyond a nar-
row strip of swamp. Orders were given to
charge these works. The division moved
forward. They had never failed in such
an undertaking. Their charge had always
pierced the enemy's line. This had been
their record during three years of warfare.
But men can not accomplish impossibilities.
Baffled by the swamp, cut by the merciless
fire that blazed out from the pits, they are
driven back, rally, re-form and charge the
second and third time, and then retire to the
position from which they had come out.

The field-tents here were nearer the front
than before. Bullets and an occasional shell
whistled over us. My work was still the

Billy Craig. 39

same, caring for the wounded, assisting the
surgeon, or occasionally binding up a wound
myself.

During the second day, while engaged at
the farther end of the tent, I heard at the front
a familiar voice. As soon as I was disengaged
I went to the front end of the tent, eager to
learn from whom the well-known voice pro-
ceeded. There lay a large, noble-looking
young man, severely wounded in the thigh.
He was conversing quietly with a wounded
comrade by his side. Voice and face were as
familiar as if heard and seen but yesterday.
Puzzled and deeply interested, I did not speak,
but proceeded to bathe his wound. While
thus engaged, his eyes fell upon my face.
Looking at me intently a moment, his face
brightened, and he exclaimed :

"You are Rob M'Bride, aren't you?'

"Yes; and you are Billy Craig," was the
immediate reply.

As soon as he pronounced my name, it all
came to me in a moment. We had been
school-mates at Courtney's School-house. He
was then one of the "big boys," and I a lad
of nine or ten. I had not seen him since. He
was one of those large-hearted, royal souls,

40 In The Ranks.

that could find pleasure in little acts of kind-
ness, that bound me to him very closely. He
bore his sufferings with heroic fortitude. When
the time came to remove the wounded, and they
were being hurried away in ambulances and
rough army wagons, I went to Dr. Lyon and
told him of the case. He went with me to
an ambulance and ordered room reserved in
it for him. I then had him carried to it,
made him as comfortable as possible, bade
him good-bye and God speed, and saw him no
more on earth. He died from his wound some
time in June.

May nth, Lewis Grossman, of Company
C, was brought in, terribly wounded by a
shell. One arm and leg were crushed, and
he was otherwise bruised. I did not see him
until after the arm and leg were amputated.
He was a young man of great physical endur-
ance, or he would never have rallied from the
shock. He was as pale as a corpse when first
brought into the tent, but rallied in a little
while, and was able to take some refreshment.
When left to himself his mind wandered, and
he would talk as if he were engaged in the
quiet pursuits of peace. Unless prevented,
he would remove the bandages from the

Lewis Grossman. 41

stumps of his amputated limbs. When spoken
to, however, he would refrain from this, and
talk rationally of the present circumstances.
Dr. Lyon finally told me to give my atten-
tion entirely to him. This I did until he was
sent away. He told me how his wound was
received. He was in front, skirmishing. He
was in the road in front of a rebel battery,
and in the act of loading his gun. Perceiving
they were about to fire, he still delayed a
moment, thinking to get in another shot be-
fore leaping to the shelter of a large tree that
stood near. It was a costly delay.

The shell came screaming toward him,
burst, and dashed him stunned and mangled
to the ground. As he concluded this narra-
tive, he added, with the utmost seriousness :
*' But they have n't made much off me, after
all. I 've peppered them in almost every bat-
tle the Potomac army has fought since the
war began."

He got along finely, and there seemed
every prospect of recovery. When some of
the boys called on him at Washington, on
their way home in June, he requested them
to say nothing to his friends about the extent
of his wounds. But from some cause — per-

42 In the Ranks.

haps gangrene — he died August 3d, and is
buried in the National Cemetery at Arhngton.
Nearly opposite Lewis lay a young man of
very fine face and attractive appearance. He
was mortally wounded. Most of the time his
sufferings were very great, but no earthly skill
could bring any relief As death drew on,
his mind wandered. He was fighting his bat-
tles over again. He was not the poor, crushed
mortality that lay here. His spirit was over
yonder, where the cannon's sullen roar and
the awful din of musketry, the cheers of the
struggling combatants, told of a deadly strife.
Sometimes he was distressed and troubled,
sometimes exultant. Anon his face would
lighfe- up with the strange fire of battle, and he
would raise his arm and cheer. Once he said
quite distinctly: ''Here is a chance for a
brave man." Later he became calm, and
quietly fell asleep, to wake no more on earth
till the great day of God.

" Soldier, sleep, thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows no waking,
Dream of battle-fields no more."

One of the Bucktail Regiment lay on the
ground in front of the tent, shot through the
chest. He ^vas, perhaps, twenty-five years of

Dying. 43

age, large and well-formed, his face stamped
with the marks of intelligence. While en-
gaged near him, I saw another of that band of
heroes coming toward him with great strides,
an expression of anguish on his face which
I can not forget. He threw himself on his
knees by the wounded man, kissed him, then
covered his face with his hands, and his great
manly form shook with convulsive sobbings.
Tears trickled down the cheeks of the other.
Not a word was spoken until, after a while, the
storm of emotion had passed. Then they con-
versed calmly for a while, and parted with the
quiet dignity of brave men who say farewell
while the shadow of death lies dark around them.

A man was brought in shot through both
thighs. I did not know his name, but had
heard his voice among the worshipers in the
church-tent at Bristoe Station, and knew that
he was a man of God. After a brief exam-
ination, the surgeon announced that amputa-
tion would be necessary.

"Very well, doctor; get around to it as
quick as you can. I suffer terribly."

Another was shot in the thigh, the bone
shattered to the hip. When tb\d that the limb
must be amputated he objected.

44 In the Ranks.

** But you will die if it is not done."

'*I can't help that; it shall not be ampu-
tated with my consent."

Within twenty-four hours he was dead.
Whether wise in his decision or not, he met
the result without flinching or complaint.

A boy with his arm torn off by a shell ex-
pressed his only complaint in the words, "I
never can fight any more."

One evening, worn out by constant labor
and watching, I lay down in a vacant place
in the tent, from which a dead soldier had
been removed, to find rest for mind and body
in sleep. As I lay there thinking of the
dreadful scenes around me, of the wounded
and dying here, the dead just over yonder,
I began to wonder what would be the sensa-
tions of a man shot in the brain. Suddenly
there came a shock, as if the whole machinery
of life had stopped at once. How long a
time elapsed before consciousness was re-
sumed I do not know ; the interval may have
been momentary; but as a dim sense of being
stole over me again, I was quite convinced
that a stray shot had struck me in the head.
Rousing myself, I deliberately felt my head,
to learn the exact state of things. To my

Onward. 45

surprise and gratification, I found every thing
in due order. I leave it to those who are
skilled in the mysteries of the nervous system
to explain the phenomenon ; but you must
allow me to believe that I know something of
what it is to be shot in the head.

The time arrived, at length, when the field
hospitals must be moved because of the
changed position of the army. A heavy rain
began on the nth, and continued for some
days, making the roads almost impassable.
The wounded that remained were removed as
speedily and as mercifully as possible. Some
had to be left behind. Nurses were detailed
to remain with them. As night came on
every thing was in readiness, and the rest of
us were directed to take our departure without
delay. Two of us started together after dark.
We made our way through the mud and in-
tense darkness about twenty rods, to the edge
of a wood. We resolved to go no further,
come what might. Doubling myself up at
the root of an old stump, I was soon obliv-
ious to both rain and danger. Just as day
was breaking, I awoke, and arousing my com-
panion, we hastened away.

4-6 In the Ranks.

Chapter V.

THIS closed my experience in the hospital.
I was so worn out by the constant strain
which such labor made on body and mind,
that rest was imperative. During all these
days I could get no definite information of the
fate of John Elliot. The wounded reported
that he was missing, but whether among the
dead or living they could not tell. It was
difficult to drive away the thought of the
painful possibilities that imagination would
bring up. Had he been disabled that first
day in the wilderness and perished in the
flames of the burning woods? Had he been
mortally wounded, and died alone in the thick
underbrush which veiled so many tragic
scenes? Had death come more swiftly and
mercifully, or was he a prisoner and un-
harmed? Such were the questions that
might be solved by Inquiry among the mem-
bers of the company.

After some delay I found the regiment by
a little stream called the Ny. The spot on

Lost. 47

which they were camped, or rather resting
under arms, was within beautiful shelling
range of the rebel batteries, as I found out
afterward to my great discomfort and dismay.
Toward evening, Sergeant W. Coleman was
taken quite sick, and at his request I started
with him to find the hospital. After proceed-
ing some distance, he became so ill that we
could go no further, and some means of con-
veyance m.ust be found. A stretcher was
procured, and two men to carry him. To
these I confided my charge, and began to
retrace my steps. It was now after dark, a
clear, moonless night. Crossing the little
stream at the point where I had left the regi-
ment a few hours before, to my great disap-
pointment not a man could be found.

What to do was a puzzling question. The
resolution was finally taken to spend a few
hours, at least, in trying to find them. At
first I started in a direction bearing toward
the right, but soon met a column marching
toward the left Reasoning that if troops
were being moved to the left, none would be
moving at the same time toward the right,
I fell in with this column, determined to see
what the outcome would be. Soon the open

48 In the Ranks.

ground was crossed, and the column began to
bear to the right of its Hne of march, through
the woods. Presently I noticed that an unus-
ual silence was observed. Not a word was
spoken above a whisper, every noise and
clatter incident to the march were carefully
avoided.

Growing weary at length, and reflecting
that after all I might be going away from the
regiment instead of toward it, I dropped out
of the line and lay down against the root of
a tree close to the road, to sleep till morning.
Half sleeping and half waking I lay there,
dreamily watching that army of shadows glid-
ing stealthily by. Shadows they seemed as
they moved hurriedly along under the gloom
of the overhanging trees, as noiseless almost
as an army of spirits from Homer's nether
world. The mystery of this secret night
march served to quicken imagination, and I
could see this same column grimly marshal-
ing in ''battle's magnificently stern array" in
the dim light of the coming morning, ready
to burst upon some exposed point of the ene-
my's line.

Opening my eyes a little later, the same
ghostly procession was filing past, but in an

Ghosts. 49

opposite direction. This meant that, sooner
or later, my rest must be disturbed, or I
might be left in an exposed and dangerous
position. Present comfort, however, being the
stronger motive just then, prevailed, and I
sank into unconsciousness again. From this
I was aroused by some one shaking me by
the shoulder and warning me in a whisper
that I must wake up and come on. The
muffled ''tramp, tramp" had ceased, the rear
of that shadowy army was vanishing in the
darkness ; one solitary figure waited, delaying
a moment, to see if I was fully awake. Ris-
ing, I followed. Reaching the open ground
from which we had entered the Avoods, I
found myself alone and bewildered. Proceed-
iug some distance with rather a vague notion
of direction, I determined to make a final
halt till morning. All that was necessary to
make myself comfortable was to sink down
on the ground without removing any thing,
my knapsack fitting conveniently under the
back of my head, supporting head and shoul-
der as if intended for the purpose. Thus be-
stowing myself by the side of a rail fence, I
was soon sleeping soundly.

But my rest was destined not to be undis-
4

50 In the Ranks.

turbed. Something awoke me. What ! Was
this night given over to ghosts an.d spirits
intangible ? Again the forms of men were
ghding noiselessly about me. Above were
the twinkling stars, around were busy men,
and silence everywhere. With instinctive
cautiousness I lay motionless, furtively noting
the curious scene. A moment's careful atten-
tion explained it in part. One by one the
rails of the fence were taken up with the
utmost caution and borne away. They were
building breastworks somewhere. There was
work to be done, I thought, and preferred to
finish my much delayed sleep, if allowed to
do so. I lay motionless, only sufficiently
awake to dimly take in the situation. Twice
men came and stooped over me with their
faces close to mine, looked intently, and
turned away in silence. Congratulating my-
self on my good fortune, that I was going to
sleep the night out while others worked, I
gave myself again to repose.

When I awoke the sun had got fairly
started on his course, and was pouring his
rays full into my face. The events of the pre-
ceding night seemed like a dream ; but there
was evidence about me that m.y visitants had

Between the Lines. 51

not been as ghostly as they seemed. The
fence by which I had lain down had disap-
peared, and I was alone in an open field.
Utterly bewildered, I addressed myself to the
somewhat difficult task of deciding what must
be done. On either side of me could be seen
Avhat I knew to be earth-works, but not a liv-
ing thing was visible. The field gave evidence
of having been fought over, for the well-known
debris of a battle were strewn around. At
length my mind was made up to go to the
rear, find the division hospital, and get in-
formation.

But where was rear? Where was front?
Where was any thing ? After meditating pro-
foundly on these questions, I decided that my
course lay in the direction of the earth-works
on one side of the open ground. This was
the ''rear," and these works had been aban-
doned in the progress of advance. Proceeding
leisurely in this direction, I had not advanced
far until I was surprised by the boom of a
cannon behind me. A shell screamed over
my head, and exploded with a sharp ring
against the earth-works a few hundred yards
ahead of me. Looking back, I saw a Yankee
officer standing on the earth-work, glass in

52 In the Ranks.

hand, watching the effects of the shot. This
was a revelation. I was between the hnes, and
heading for the rebel works. That shot saved
me a trip to a Confederate prison-pen. Hastily-
retracing my steps, I lost no time in reaching
our lines, expecting each moment that an ar-
tillery battle would break out while I was be-
tween the combatants. The position was per-
haps a half-mile to the right of tliQ. spot where
I had last seen the regiment. No infantry was
visible, but no doubt there were troops con-
cealed in the woods near by. The sharp
ridges by which the open ground was broken
were occupied by artillery, the men standing
by their guns.

The day was before me, and I was resolved
to have a Httle more experience ; the more so
as I could make my observations in compara-
tive safety. Those guns frowning grimly over
the earthern redoubts meant mischief. I
would see an artillery fight ; my curiosity was
soon amply gratified. Standing near a vacant
redoubt, looking toward the rebel batteries,
suddenly a white smoke burst forth, followed
by the roar of cannon and the hissing shriek
of shells, as the noisy missiles came tearing
through the air toward us. After the first

About Shells. 53

discharge, the rebel fire was directed chiefly
to the right of the earth-work behind which I
had taken refuge, though shells kept striking
and bursting around. My position, however,
was favorable for a view of our own batteries,
and for observing the effect of the enemy's
fire. Sometimes the shells would strike the
ground, sending the dirt many feet into the
air, and go tearing across the field, touching
the ground and bounding again at intervals.
Others would strike the earth-works, or ex-
plode in the air, and hurl their fragments far
and near, whizzing and buzzing to the earth.

This noisy combat lasted for some time,
and ceased, — not because either of the com-
batants was seriously damaged, as far as I
could see, but because they were tired of it.

This will be as appropriate a place as any
to remark, that "shelling" is usually quite
harmless, except when the guns are served by
skilled artillerists, and under favorable circum-
stances. Unless the shell is exploded at the
proper distance and altitude in front of a line,
it is not likely to do any injury. A cannon-
ade which, to the uninitiated, would seem
sufficient to destroy every thing before it, will
be faced with the utmost equanimity by veteran

54 In the Ranks.

troops, if the artillerist have the range too
"long." It is always very annoying, how-
ever, as there is no telling when a shell may
prove a little "short," and distribute its frag-
ments for rods along the line. The men are
usually ordered to lie down, unless directly
engaged. The shell cleaves the air with a
frightful sound, that is but faintly described
by the word " shriek." Few men can refrain
from "dodging," as the dangerous missile
comes over with its unearthly sound. The
writer has frequently tried it, but can remem-
ber no instance of marked success, except
while engaged, or otherwise employed. Per-
haps the most disagreeable sound of all, is
when the guns are charged with grape and
cannister, and send their destructive contents
through the air with a grinding, groaning,
gnashing sound, that chills the blood of the
listener. This may partly result from associa-
tion, as such a charge is seldom used except
at close range, on a charging line. Then, if
directed by cool, determined men, the effect
is terrible. Those who have once heard this
sound can never forget it. It requires but lit-
tle imagination to fancy that the fiend which
was sending forth such loud defiance just now,

Grape. 5 5

has grappled with his adversary and is hissing
out his horrid rage in the midst of Titanic
strugghngs. A Httle experience will enable
you to determine from the sound what a gun
is firing; shot, shell, or grape. The artillery-
men usually have little fear of shell, but dread
a volley from infantry. With the infantry the
case is reversed. Generally the men preferred
the branch of service to which they were ac-
customed. Each did not envy the other.

The cavalryman rode all day ; but at night
he had to care for both himself and horse.
The infantryman had nothing to care for but
himself He would make his coffee, and sleep
all night, while the cavalryman must scout, or
picket front or flank. Sometimes the infantry
must spend a part of the night in throwing up
breastworks, or making a night march; but
usually he considers himself more certain of
rest and comfort than his fellow-soldiers of the
mounted force.

$6 Lost.

Chapter VI-

I NOW continued my search for informa-
tion as to the whereabouts of the regi-
ment. I had almost reached the Httle flat by
the Ny, at the point where I had last seen
my comrades the evening before, when, to my
astonishment, the roar of cannon broke forth
again, and the shells came hissing over my
head and bursting all around me. There was
not even a stump or stone for shelter from
the pelting storm of iron, and in the woods
just over the stream, the trees were being
torn and rent asunder as if by thunderbolts.
This was more of a joke than I had bargained
for. Reflecting a moment, I concluded to
take my chances among the trees. A slender
foot-log over the stream afforded means of
crossing. When about the middle of the log
a shell howled close to my head and dashed
through a tree with a fearful crash. Nothing
deterred, I sat down at the root of a sturdy
oak Avhich would shelter me from fragments,
at least, and waited for something to ''turn
up." The rebels evidently thought that troops

Found. 57

were concealed in the woods, and were deter-
mined to make it hot for them. They made
it hvely for me ; but unless that afforded them
some satisfaction, they might have saved their
ammunition.

Later I learned that the Reserves had
moved to the left. Passing along in that di-
rection, I came to a hill on which a battery
was planted. The men were standing by
their guns, ready for action. Close behind
these, on the face of the hill were the cais-
sons, and back of these, men holding the
horses, the men themselves sheltered in holes
which they had dug in the hillside. Things
looked decidedly breezy about that hill. My
curiosity to witness an artillery fight had been
fully gratified some time before; so I passed
on without delay, and soon found the object
of my search some distance further to the left.

Late in the afternoon of the 17th an
orderly galloped to headquarters, the bugle
sounded "fall in," and we were moving to-
ward the right at a rapid pace. Heavy firing
could be heard in the direction of our right
flank, and we were hurrying toward the
scene of action, to strengthen the threatened
point. We arrived about dark. The fighting

58 In the Ranks.

had almost ceased, and the enemy were hand-
somely repulsed. The attack had been made
on a body of inexperienced troops, mostly
heavy artillery, who were marching h'om Fred-
ericksburg to join the Army of the Potomac.
They were well-drilled and disciplined, and
made a gallant and successful fight, though
with heavy loss. In their first fight they had
faced Lee's best veterans, and defeated them.
The old soldiers were inclined to regard it as
rather a joke — the lively manner in which the
rebs welcomed them to the front. This dis-
position to see a bright, a laughable side to
every thing, may be set down as one of the
peculiarities of the Yankee soldier. In vic-
tory or defeat, success or disaster, ease or
hardship, some one of a group of soldiers
could find something from which to extract a
jest or on which to found a pun.

The next morning I went out over the
field. Details of men were engaged in bury-
ing their fallen comrades. The dead were
collected in groups, a trench sufficiently wide
and deep was dug, and they were laid side by
side as decently as possible, and covered with
two or three feet of earth. When it could
be done, the graves were marked. I have

The Dead. 59

seen this done by our men for the rebel dead,
when there was time and leisure for such care.

Under an apple tree lay a rebel who had
been shot in the forehead, a little above the
center. He must have been shot before sun-
set of the previous day. It was about noon
when I saw him, and strange to say, he was
still alive. He was unconscious, and prob-"
ably had been from the moment he was
struck.

In a negro cabin lay a young rebel soldier,
a fair-faced, handsome boy, shot through the
right lung. I inquired after his wants, and
made him as comfortable as might be. He
said he had not suffered for want of care.
Soldiers had been in frequently during the
day, and all had been very kind. He spoke
of this with great satisfaction. I notified Dr.
Lyon of the case, and he was taken care of

The next day we advanced some distance
toward the enemy. Skirmishers were thrown
forward, but no serious fighting took place.
As the skirmishers were going out, Chaplain
Delo dryly inquired if he might not accom-
pany them, 'giving as his reason that he
would like to get Captain Coder's horse killed
if it could be done conveniently. He had

6o In the Ranks.

charge of a horse belonging to the captain,
who had displeased him about something in
connection with the horse. There was no
opportunity of gratifying the worthy chap-
lain's wishes.

Again the army was in motion, leaving
behind now as useless what before had been
fought for so tenaciously. As we moved
away, the Eleventh was in the rear, nothing
between us and the enemy, but some cav-
alry, to cover the rear of the column, as the
army moved off to strike Lee from a new
position. We were passing over a wide, open
piece of country. The rebel cavalry and our
own had become hotly engaged, and a spir-
ited fight was in progress clear across the
open ground behind us.

About this time Daniel Graham became
quite ill, and was compelled to fall out of the
ranks. I remained with him to help him
along. The undertaking proved to be rather
a serious one. He would struggle bravely on
for a while, and then sit down panting and
exhausted. I carried his gun and knapsack,
and finally took him by the arm to keep
him up.

Meantime the battle going on behind us

In Trouble. 6i

drew nearer and nearer, and the bullets were
whistling around us with uncomfortable fre-
quency. At last Daniel became utterly dis-
couraged ; and, as he dropped upon the
ground to rest at one of his frequent halts,
he declared it was no use, he could go no
further. He urged me to leave him, and make
my escape.

** There's no use of talking that way.
After you rest a few minutes, we '11 try it
again."

**But I'm clear used up, and there's no
use of both of us being prisoners."

'• We *re not prisoners yet by a good deal.
We are going to come out all right. You
are worth two dead men yet."

But notwithstanding my brave words, I
was almost of his opinion, though not con-
vinced that the time had come to give up all
hope. It was my duty to stay Avith him as
long as there was any prospect of getting
him off.

Our cavalry was now nearly up to where
we were, and I announced that he must come
along. Helping him to his feet, we started.
Courage and strength now seemed to revive.
We made good progress, and were soon out

62 In 'niE Ranks.

of danger. In the course of an hour or two
he was able to take his gun again, and in the
evening we came up with the regiment.

In trying to recall the scenes of this period,
there are some that seem like the fragments
of a half-forgotten dream, distinct in them-
selves, but without any definite connection as
to time or place. They are but pictures, some
of them becoming faded and indistinct; others
bright and fresh, as if they had come from the
painter's hand but yesterday. I see a long
column of weary soldiers, winding along over
hill and valley, in the night, gliding past a
stately mansion, with beautiful grounds and
shaded walks, and every-where the freshness
and fragrance of Spring. Again I see a line
of battle stretching out across an open field,
the men resting lazily in their ranks. A little
to the left, near some shade trees, stands a
battery, ready for action, the guns pointing
toward some unseen enemy beyond. It is
noon, and the sunlight is pouring down upon
the scene, bright and clear.

May 23d we came to the North Ann. We
halted in open ground, before we reached the
river. Fighting was in progress at the front,
where the rebels were disputing the passage

Over the River. 63

of the river. While we waited here, a bat-
tery came thundering past at full speed, and
soon the roar of their guns told that they had
found something to do.

While this was in progress, we were or-
dered to move. The column was headed,
first to the rear, then toward our right. By
a rapid march we reached a ford, higher up
the river. Without delay we waded right
through. The water was swift, and three or
four feet deep in places. The bottom of the
river was stony, and the stones were slip-
pery. This, with the swiftness of the stream,
made the footing of the most active rather
precarious. A German, named Moreland, a
teacher by profession, and a man of fine qual-
ities, had joined the company but a little while
before. He was not very active at best, and
at this time had very sore feet. As we were
hurrying across, suddenly a wonderful splash-
ing and floundering were heard toward the
rear of the company, and Moreland's feet
were discovered twinkling above the surface
of the water, while with his head he seemed
to be making a critical examination of the.
bottom of the stream. At last he regained
his footing, puffing and blowing like a por-

64 In The Ranks.

poise, amid the cheers and horse-laughs of
his comrades.

Once across, no time was to be lost. We
had stolen a march on the rebels, and if we
would use our advantage we must be about
it. The movement was not long unknown to
the enemy. As fast as the troops reached
the high ground on the other side, they formed
line of battle, keeping the left flank covered
by the river, and facing down stream. As
the remaining troops crossed, they formed on
the right, the line as it formed advancing
downward and outward from the river, in a
curve.

The Eleventh was not far from the left.
They moved down the stream some distance,
and halted in the midst of a beautiful farm.
Before them was a valley, across which the
Bucktails were advancing as skirmishers, and
beyond this the ground rose again, and curved
off toward woods in the distance. Scarcely
had our line reached this point, when the en-
emy "came down like the wolf on the fold."
Judging from the promptness and vigor with
Avhich they assailed us, they evidently counted
on making our enterprise another Ball's Bluff
affair.

Orthodox Baptism. 65

As the Bucktails advanced, their rapid fir-
ing warned us that they had discovered the
advance of the enemy. Dust was seen rising
on the high ground beyond, and horses were
dimly seen. We judged that batteries were
coming into position. We were not long in
doubt. Suddenly a perfect volley of artillery
burst forth. The air seemed filled with the
shrieking shells and whizzing fragments. The
men could do no more than lie down and let
the storm rage. For some time we had not
a single gun in position to reply, and the
rebels poured in their fire without hindrance.
Soldiers who had been through all the battles
of the Potomac army, affirmed that they never
experienced such a noisy onset, except at Get-
tysburg. As quickly as possible our batteries
came into position, on both sides of the river.
Now the tumult was doubled. The earth
seemed to shake. When our artillery opened
in reply, the rebels turned their attention in
that direction; but on account of the awk-
wardness of their gunners, we were annoyed
almost as much as when under their direct fire.
On the right there was severe infantry fighting.
Of this we could hear little, on account of the
terrible cannonading going on around us. The
5

66 In the Ranks.

losses of the regiment were slight, owing to
the fact that the rebels overshot us. A few
were wounded, but I think none were killed.
The loss of the corps was about 350. The
rebel loss was reported at 1,000, including
General Brown, who was in command.

May was now drawing to a close, and with
it would close the history of the Pennsylvania'
Reserves. The 30tli found us in the vicinity
of Bethsaida Church. We were moving on
with those stops and starts which indicate
that the head of the column has met with
some obstruction. Skirmishing was going on
in front, and from time to time the boom of
cannon came rolling up from the left. We
were moving along a road which led through
open farm country, and through a strip of
woods, beyond which skirmishing was heard.
During one of the frequent halts, while the
men were resting, some standing, others sitting
or reclining at ease, a rifle ball came whistling
through the air, and struck with a sharp snap
in the rail-pile on which myself and others
were sitting. It struck betw^een Jim Shaffer
and myself. We both naturally squirmed a
little at the unpleasant nearness of the ma-
licious little messenger. The affair called

Defeat. 6^

♦forth laughter and jocular exclamations from
those around: **How are you JoJmnie T'
"Hit 'em again!" "Go in!''

The incident would not have caused any
special notice, had it not been so unexpected,
on account of our distance from the scene of
action.

Forward now through the woods, out upon
the open ground beyond, where the division is
forming for its last battle. Their left now rests
not far from where their right was when they
fought at Gaines' Mill, nearly two years be-
fore. They advance some distance. "Some
one has blundered." They have no support
on either wing. They are flanked, and, after
a brief struggle, are driven back. Some noble
men were lost here. Parks, of Company D,
is mortally wounded ; Daniel Graham is made
prisoner. In the retreat, two men carry back
John Stanley, wounded in the arm and side.
At the wood they rally. A fence is torn
down, and with this and whatever is near-
est at hand a breastwork is hastily impro-
vised. A few of the Bucktails have rallied
on their right, and thrown up a similar de-
fense of logs, rails, any thing that can stop a
bullet. Here the Hne seems to terminate:

6S In the Ranks.

but just beyond and a little back, is a brass
battery, concealed by bushes, every gun
charged with grape and canister. A house
stands close behind the line, in a recess of the
woods.

Now the enemy is seen advancing. Line
after line comes swinging out. Shells come
screaming over. One explodes in front of
Company D. Its fragments sever the flag-
staff close to Jim Shaffer's head, rip open
Mike Coleman's cap, tear off Culp's arm near
the shoulder. Another bursts in the house,
and sets it on fire. A woman, bearing a
baby in one arm and leading by the hand a
little child, comes out of the house, still un-
harmed. Frightened and bewildered, she is
passing along the rear of the line instead of
hastening away from it. A kind-hearted sol-
dier directs her toward a place of safety. But
now the rebel lines are within rifle range.
Volley after volley is poured into them, and
their ranks melt before the terrible fire. In
our front they falter ; but toward the right
they see a chance for victory. They will
swing around our flank, and crush us as they
did but an hour before. With exultant yells,
their left comes sweeping on, wheeling to en-

Victory. 69

velop our right. But now there bursts from
the underbrush a blast as if from the pit,
crashing, tearing, grinding, enfilading their
lines, leaving in its track a swath of dead and
dying. This is decisive, and the battle is won.

Over a hundred dead were counted in front
of the Eleventh and the few Bucktails on their
right. One man was struck with a charge of
grape, or by a bursting shell, and his body from
the knees to the neck was crushed and torn
into an indistinguishable mass.

John Stanley, who was wounded in this ac-
tion, was a brave, noble boy. Looking along
the company line, with its veterans of so
many battles, the remnant of a hundred as
brave men as ever followed a battle flag, you
would not have guessed that this boyish face
could be the calmest in the hour of trial.
During that month of battles, he was always
in his place, without bravado, but with un-
flinching courage, doing his duty. I saw him
at the woods, as they were taking him from
the field. His pale face was as calm as ever.
He never returned to us, nor did I learn the
result of his wounds.

The next morning the Reserves were with-
drawn from the front. Their term of service

JO In the Ranks.

had expired. The veterans and recruits were
reorganized, forming the One Hundred and
Ninetieth and One Hundred and Ninety-first
Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry. The others
started on their homeward march.

Of Company D, fourteen men returned —
five non-commissioned officers and nine pri-
vates. Eleven had re-enlisted. Thirty-five
were dead, of whom twenty-three had been
killed in battle or mortally wounded; and six
were prisoners in the hands of the enemy, of
whom two died.

Of the eleven veterans, only seven were
present, the others being wounded or prison-
ers. By the close of the war, forty of the
original one hundred and one had died in the
service. During the first three years, twenty-
four were discharged for wounds or sickness.
Such is the record of these heroic men.
Mingled feelings of joy and sadness were in
the hearts of all, as good-byes were spoken,
and they marched away. The war-worn vet-
erans, who now turned their footsteps home-
ward, and those who stood there, watching
their going that day, knew too well how cer-
tainly these "good-byes" might be "fare-
wells." I think I saw tears in a certain brave

Good-bye. 71

colonel's eyes ; and perhaps strong hands were
clasped with a little more than usual fervor,
as friend looked into the face of friend ; but
there was no " scene." These men were too
much in earnest for that.

72 In the Ranks.

Chapter VIL

THEN came reorganization. It seemed like
a " general breaking up." It was. In-
stead of the mere handfirl of men that stood
about the torn and tattered colors of the old
regiment but yesterday, nearly a thousand
were grouped together in the new organization.
They might all be considered veterans. Some
had been in service since the beginning of
the war; all had, at least, the experience of
the present campaign. It was generally felt
that the new regiment had in it some elements
of success not to be found in one brought into
existence under ordinary circumstances. The
officers of both regiments were tried men,
who had the confidence of all. Most of them
had risen from the ranks, and had received
promotion, step by step, with the approval of
their comrades. Sergeant William Coleman,
of Company D, was made first-lieutenant of
Company I ; and Lieutenant R. Birkman,
of Company E, was promoted to captain of
Company A, of the One Hundred and Nine-

The New. 73

tieth. These both served faithfully until the
close of the war. Lieutenant Hayden, of
Company — , of the Eleventh, was transferred
to the One Hundred and Ninety-first, and lost
a leg at Appomattox Court-house, the morn-
ing of Lee's surrender.

With organization still incomplete, these
two regiments were pushed forward to the
front, and had a share in the terrible fighting
at Cold Harbor. As soon as possible, how-
ever, the organization was completed, and the
two companion regiments became the Third
Brigade, Third Division, Fifth Army Corps.
William R. Hartshorn was commissioned col-
onel of the One Hundred and Ninetieth, and
Joseph B. Pattee lieutenant-colonel. The lat-
ter, a brave and capable officer, commanded
the regiment during its entire history, except
when absent, wounded, as Colonel Hartshorn
was absent, for some cause, most of the time.
I was assigned to Company C. Neri B. Kin-
sey was captain. Lieutenant Moses W. Lu-
core Avas in command until some time after
July, when Captain Kinsey returned. He
was severely wounded, in October, and dis-
charged the following March, on account of
his wounds. The regiment adopted the buck-

74 In the Ranks.

tail, in honor of the old "Bucktails," who
were more largely represented in the One
Hundred and Ninetieth than any other regi-
ment.

In the afternoon of June I2th, we received
marching orders, and soon tents were struck,
and we were on our way, none knew whither.
At this time we were short of provisions. I
had a very small quantity of coffee, but noth-
ing else, except fresh meat, which had just
been issued. When orders came to strike
tents for the march, I was engaged in cook-
ing a slice of fresh beef, by holding it to the
fire, spitted on a sharp stick. With an appe-
tite sharpened by a more than orthodox fast,
I was watching the operation most devoutly ;
and the savory odor which rose from the sput-
tering morsel awakened anticipations which
only a ferociously hungry man can imagine.
But I was doomed to illustrate the words of
the Scottish bard :

" The best laid plans of mice or men
Gang aft aglee."

With my half-cooked meat in my hand, I

swung on my knapsack, and we marched away.

The march continued, without intermission,

during the night, except now and then a

Chickahominy. 75

brief halt for rest. Towards morning we
crossed the Chickahominy, at Long's Bridge.
Here we halted for rest and breakfast. My
entire commissary outfit consisted of about
one teaspoonful of coffee. We had halted for
breakfast, and might as well go through with
the programme. I went to the river and pro-
cured about a pint of liquid from that famous
stream, and boiled the coffee Avith due cir-
cumspection, and drank the product.

The final member of the above sentence is
not inserted to inform the reader that we did
not eat the ''product; but, in explanation,
when we thought of that Chickahominy
water, the ''old man " stirred mightily within
us, and we greatly desired to say that it was
good, knowing well with what unction every
unfortunate that ever tasted it, would say, ' ' O,
what a he!" We would like also to insert a
few thoughts about G. Washington, who
could not tell a lie, but we forbear. We
drank that coffee as a war measure.

Our course was then toward the right, a
short distance along the river, soon bearing
away from it toward Richmond. During the
forenoon we reached White Oak Swamp,
where the enemy was encountered in strong

76 In the Ranks.

force. We moved out past some timber to
where the cavahy were skirmishing with rebel
troops posted in the woods beyond. Part of
the regiment deployed as skirmishers and
advanced to where the cavalry were fighting
and joined in the fray. The rest remained in
their rear as support. We lay down in a
slight depression of the ground about four
rods behind the skirmishers. As we were
getting into position a few were Avounded ;
but after arrangements were completed, we
lay in comparative safety. About three hun-
dred or more yards to the left, on a little
knoll, two guns were in position. Except
these, which seemed unsupported, I could see
no other force. Where the other troops were
or hoAV posted, I have not been able to make
out.

The day was warm, and after our night
march, the men were fatigued and sleepy.
Before long many of them were sleeping
soundly, unmindful of the bullets that were
whistling over. I do not know how long we
lay thus. There is a peculiar satisfaction in
sleeping under circumstances of danger. You
are no more exposed than Avhen awake, and
you don't have to do the thinking. Sud-

Battle. 'jj

denly I awoke to a consciousness that some-
thing had "broken loose." A volley of
musketry was poured into us from the rising
ground in front of our skirmishers, and the
bullets were hissing close above us. I lay
still a moment as they passed over, and then
sprang to my feet. The skirmishers were
giving way, still facing the rebel line of battle
that was charging forward. On the left, our
guns were belching forth grape and canister
into the rebel infantry, that came sweeping on
like ocean waves. I think these guns were
lost. The last I saw of them the rebel troops
seemed to roll right over them. We were
driven back to the woods. Here we checked
their advance, and held the ground till night.
A part of the Fifth Corps and one division
of cavalry had been thrown up in this direc-
tion to make a diversion, and also to cover
the flank of Grant's army while it crossed the
Peninsula to the James River, and placed it-
self before Petersburg. Hence there was not
much object in fighthig except to hold our
position for a sufficient length of time. In
the evening a heavy force of the enemy was
reported moving toward our left. For this
reason, or in carrying out the original pro-

^8 In the Ranks.

gramme, we marched in the same direction,
starting just after dark. As we fell back in
the afternoon, I found a haversack contain-
ing some hard-tack. This our mess divided.
We did not fail to commiserate the unlucky
chap whose loss was our gain. This was a very
unsatisfactory fight. It always seemed to me
like a scrub race. The rebels plunged in as
if they thought it was a 2.20 affair, at the
least. The march continued all night. About
two in the morning I concluded that the
thing had gone on about long enough, and,
without any ceremony, made my bed beside
a stump in a little opening in a strip of woods
through which we were passing. It was after
sunrise when I awoke. Breakfast was not an
elaborate affair, and was quickly dispatched.
It consisted of the vivid recollection of the
two delicious hard-tacks which I had eaten the
day before. It was light diet, but the best
that could be afforded. I found that the col-
umn, after keeping the road right on for some
time, had about faced and retraced their steps
to a point opposite where I had slept. A road
here led to the left of our original line of
march. This they followed a couple of miles
and camped. I found them without trouble.

Fancies. 79

Here we waited, with nothing to eat, till the
evening of the 15th, This is the only time I
ever felt the pangs of extreme hunger. Dur-
ing three days and nights of almost constant
marching and fighting, I had eaten one ration
of fresh beef and two crackers. It seemed as
if I was all stomach, and each several cubic
inch of that stomach clamoring incessantly
for "grub."

The boys amused themselves laying out
an imaginary bill of fare. The merits of
sundry inviting dishes were zealously dis-
cussed. Roast turkey was eloquently extolled
by one ; another set forth the attractions of a
table to which forest, mountain-stream, or
river had contributed delights. Sometimes
the grotesque imagination of some wild fellow
would conjure up a feast so full of horror that
a famished cannibal might well protest. In
striking contrast with this was the gentle
pathos of word and manner as some boy told
of dinner at the old farm-house among the
hills, where mother poured out the fragrant
coffee, rich with honest cream.

Note. — Some additional facts have been learned
regarding this affair. The One Hundred and Ninety-
first was on our left, beyond the battery. The attack

8o In the Ranks.

was made about four in the afternoon. The One Hun-
dred and Ninety-first had fallen back, and Colonel
Pattee had received orders to withdraw. Deeming it
hazardous to retire across open ground under such a
fire, he rallied the skirmishers on the reserve, and met
the charge of the enemy there. In a few minutes the
Colonel's horse was shot dead under him. After a
sharp fight the rebels broke, and we retreated to the
woods before they could rally. The battery was not
captured. A failure to hold our position here would
have compelled a general battle, and delayed the
flank movement to the James.

Heroes.

Chapter VIII.

ON the 1 6th we marched to the James
River. I do not know at what point.
The rest of the corps, together with the Sec-
ond, Sixth, and Ninth, had crossed at Wil-
cox's Landing. I think we must have reached
the river lower down. We were crowded on
board transports. Judging from the time we
were on board, we must have been carried a
considerable distance up the river. We landed
on the south side. Here we rested awhile. I
went down to the river to bathe and to wash a
shirt. Hundreds of soldiers were in the water,
plunging, splashing, diving, enjoying them-
selves like schoolbo}'s. After sharing in the
sport to my heart's content, I washed my
shirt. The process Avas simple enough. The
garment was well soaped, then held on a
large stone and pounded with a club or any
thing convenient. A final washing out com-
pleted the operation. This is the usual mochis
operandi during a campaign. When I have
described this process in these latter days,

82 In the Ranks.

some of my good friends have manifested an
unreasonable and unnecessary skepticism as
to the real and ultimate object of the pound-
ing. But I solemnly affirm that the purpose
is to expel the dirt from the garment.

There is a little animal. Every soldier
knows him. Noah Webster, LL.D., knew
him. Noah is good authority. He derives
his name from the Gothic verb litisan, to
devour.

The noble Roman knew him. He called
him pediathts. He is truly democratic in his
instincts and disposition.

HE IS A COPPERHEAD.

He loves a rebel. But a copperhead loves
a fat army contract. So does he. On this
line he is cosmopolitan. He has some splen-
did business qualifications. He is modest,
retiring, persistent, insinuating. He comes
to stay. He will stay if you let him. He

Shirt-washing. 83

sticketh closer than a brother. If you don't
Avant him you must skirmish for him. You
can not argue him out of it.

I once knew a warrior that cultivated him
contrary to army regulations. We protested.
They were firm friends, like David and Jona-
than.

One day stern Law, embodied in a corpo-
ral and a file of men with glistening bayonets,
took that man down to the running brook,
and, regardless of the frosty air and chilly
temperature, with a scrubbing broom they
cleansed and variously purified him, furnished
him a new outfit of regulation clothing, and
brought him back as bright and rosy as need
be. He made some remarks. They were
comprehensive, but not to edification, and we
will not reproduce them. If that veteran still
breathes the vital air, he voted for Hancock
last Fall.

This seems like a digression, but it is sug-
gested by the facts of the case. As before
remarked, I washed that shirt. When I be-
gan it was only an ordinary shirt. When I
got through it was a most extraordinary gar-
ment. There were ''millions in it." I skir-
mished, and washed a^Taln. The result was

84 In the Ranks.

astonishing. I thought of Moses, Aaron, and
Egypt, and wondered why Pharaoh did not
let the people go. It was a moving sight.
It may be there yet, or it may have followed
the army. I do not know. I retired from
the scene sadder, but wiser.

During the forenoon the march to Peters-
burg began. The day was very warm, and
the dust which rose as the column pressed on
rendered the hot air stifling. The. men suf-
fered greatly from thirst. I do not remember
any march more trying in this respect. Late
in the afternoon we halted to rest. There
was a strip of rough, broken ground on the
right, a kind of ravine, about half a mile
away. I went over there in search of water.
Not a drop could be found. Returning to
the column, I learned that there was water
some distance to the left. Here was a beau-
tiful spring of clear, cold water flowing in
abundance. My intention was to drink very
moderately ; but I forgot all about this when
I raised my quart cup, brimming full of the
delicious beverage, to my lips. Of course I
paid the penalty of my imprudence, and be-
fore dark was so ill that I was compelled to
leave the ranks. I kept up with the column

Petersburg. 85

until after dark, but finally gave up all hopes
of keeping with them, and camped till morn-
ing. The regiment, meantime, had reached
the vicinity of Petersburg, and during the
severe fighting there, had suffered some loss.
Lieutenant-colonel Pattee was dangerously
wounded. Lieutenant Steel, of Company A,
received a terrible wound in the face. Abe
Eshelman, formerly of the Eleventh, was mor-
tally wounded, and died a few days later at
City Point. The regiment was on a sandy
ridge in front of woods, facing the rebel works,
at a point nearly where the Norfolk Railroad
passed through their lines. Behind them,
in such a position as to fire almost over
them, was a battery of rifled guns, which kept
up a fire of shells upon the rebel works at
intervals day and night. The rebel batteries
responded at intervals of but a few minutes.
This position was also under a continual fire
from rebel sharpshooters, their balls reaching
as far as the woods beyond with fatal effect.
The second day we were here, June i8th,
William Rutter was mortally wounded. He
had picked up a piece of corn-cake in the
field back of the works. Some jesting remark
was made about the cake and the rebel that

86 In the Ranks.

made it, when he said he Avould go out and
get some more. He was sitting in the pit
beside me. He rose, still laughing, to carry
out his purpose ; but as his head and shoul-
ders were exposed above the pit, there was a
sharp "crash," and he grasped his left shoul-
der with his right hand and uttered a smoth-
ered exclamation of pain. A large rifle ball
had penetrated and crushed the shoulder joint.
He was taken back at once, and the arm am-
putated. It was reported that he did not sur-
vive the operation ; but I have since learned
that he lived till the 15th of July. We lost
a number of men in this way and on the
picket line.

The pickets were changed during the night,
usually between nine and ten o'clock. This
w^as the occasion for a lively time down on
the line, in which the artillery usually joined.
Sometimes this picket firing, with its accom-
paniment of booming cannon and screaming
shells, would rise almost to the dignity of a
night battle. In front, from the picket pits,
rifles blazed and flashed with their crackling
roar ; and farther back, the great guns belched
forth their lurid flames, casting a momentary
glare over the weird scene. The gunners

Mortar. Sy

would range their guns before dark, so as to
give the rebels a good one when the tijue
should arrive. Every device was resorted to
that would make this night-firing effective
and annoying to the enemy.

Not long after the siege began, and while
we were yet at this point of the line, w^e got
a mortar-battery — tw^o guns — into position „
One clear, calm evening, the Yankees pro-
ceeded to try a little of this new-fangled
music on our friends across the lines. The
mortars were planted some distance to the
right, and in such a position that we had a
fine chance for observation. The line had
been unusually quiet, as if the beauty of the
tranquil sunset hour had subdued for a season
the fierce spirit of w^ar in the hearts of men.
The sun's last ray had faded from hill-top and
tree, and twilight was settling down upon the
scene, when we heard on our right a strange,
grumbling, muffled roar; and w^ith a rushing
sound, we saw what seemed tw^o lighted tapers
mounting upward, describing a curve through
the air, and descending upon the rebel works,
followed by two sharp, ringing explosions.
There was a moment's pause, and then "boo-
oom," and again tw^o curves of light were

88 In the Ranks.

marked along the dark sky, and the great
shells descended upon the rebel works, ex-
ploding with a terrific crash. Still no reply
from the rebel guns. Again the mortars
boom out as before; but now, as if by a
preconcerted signal, the batteries for about a
mile along the rebel line cut loose at once,
a perfect volley of cannon, all centered on the
one point, around which the shells burst and
flashed like a thousand thunderbolts. Not a
cannon replied fi'om our lines ; only at inter-
vals, for a while, would growl out that ' ' boo-
oom," and above the flash of bursting shells
and flaming cannon would rise those two lit-
tle points of light, curving slowly upward and
then down, with a seeming deliberation that
contrasted oddly with the whirl and bustle be-
low. This continued a few minutes, and the
"boo-oom" ceased. The little mortar-battery
was "knocked out of time." Then there
arose along our line a great "ha-ha" — an
army laughing. Such was the spirit in which
the men had watched this unequal combat.
But the laugh quickly changed to a cheer, and
a hundred cannon roared out their savage thun-
der from either line. Graduall}' the noise of strife
died away, and an hour later the army slept.

Rifle-pits. Sg

As before noted, our rifle-pits extended
along a sandy ridge, the ground open in front,
sloping downward to the railroad. On our
right the ground was somewhat rough and
broken ; but immediately in front, at the rail-
road, the ground rose abruptly for several feet,
and then sloped gradually upward toward the
rebel works. Toward the left of this point,
the abrupt rise disappeared ; but in general,
the rebel works crowned elevated ground be-
yond, and the entrenched picket-lines of the
two armies were in the open ground between
the railroad and the rebel entrenchments. On
the right, as you would go down from our
trenches to the road, a kind of ravine ex-
tended tow^ard the rebel works, and was com-
manded by their rifles. A large and well-
manned picket-pit was established at its head,
from which they sent their bullets hissing
down almost without hindrance.

On the afternoon of June 19th, I think it
was, word came in from our picket-line that
ammunition was running short, and a fresh sup-
ply must be sent out. Myself and nine others
were detailed to perform this rather delicate
operation. The ammunition wagons were be-
yond the strip of woods in our rear, and we

90 In the Ranks.

must run the gauntlet of sharpshooters, and
risk odd shells in going and returning over
this route, before getting started from the
works. Taking each a piece of shelter-tent,
in which to carry cartridges, v/e started for the
wagons. If any man, that has been placed
in similar circumstances, can say that he felt
no unusual agitation, in view of the possible
consequences, I must be allowed to suggest
that he is got up on a different plan from my-
self The truth is, I was considerably shaken
up over the matter. It would seem quite
heroic to be able to say that I was glad of it,
when assigned to this dangerous duty. I am
free to confess I was not glad of it. When
selected for this purpose, I went through with
it. The world looks very bright, on a fine
June day, to a healthy boy of seventeen.
He is not particularly anxious to exchange it
for another, least of all byway of minie balls,
Avhen he has no chance to send back any in
return. To do our work without faltering, it
was necessary to count on a hurried burial
down there between the lines that night.
Whatever reckoning others made, this is how
it seemed to me, and we might just as w^ell
look the probabilities square in the face.

The Gauntlet. 91

Taking- as much ammunition as each could
conveniently carry, Ave returned to the rifle-
pits, and thence to the skirmish-line. For
some distance we had partial protection from
the rifle balls, by crouching low as we walked ;
but as we advanced we drew the fire of the
rebels more and more, as they discovered us
and our object. At last we reached the ra-
vine. It seemed as if a perfect stream of
bullets was hissing down it ; but we must
pass. One after another we dashed through.
As I passed, I turned my head to the right,
and glanced up the ravine. The pit, at its
head, seemed to smoke, from the rapid fire
of its occupants. As I turned my head, a
bullet clipped close to my face, and seemed
to touch my hair. Onward we went, at the
top of our speed, and soon reached the shelter
of the high bank by the railroad.

Here we rested a few minutes. All were
safe thus far. A fine spring bubbled out of
the bank. How cool and refreshing its water
seemed! Here Avere a number of men Avho
had been shot on the picket line, some dead,
others dying, one or two unharmed, caring
for the wounded, until night should permit
their removal. The sight of these mangled,

92 In the Ranks.

bloody forms here was grimly suggestive.
We must not tJiink too much. The most
dangerous part of our work still remained.
The ammunition must go to the picket pits —
must be carried there under the close range
of rebel riflemen. During our progress thus
far our pickets had kept up a sharp fire on
the enemy. As we started for the pits the
fight became more exciting. Both parties ex-
posed themselves more recklessly, the rebels
to shoot us before we could complete our
mission, and our men to keep them down and
make their fire less deadly. Bullets hissed at
every step. I went toward the left, past sev-
eral pits, I know not how far, and stopped at
one in which was a lieutenant. Forgetting
the situation for a moment, I stood upright,
and stretched myself for relief from the weari-
ness of carrying my heavy load. Instantly a
bullet whizzed past my head, and dashed into
a tree in the rear of the pit. Quick as a flash
the lieutenant jerked me down, and warned
me of the danger of exposure. After resting
awhile, I started to return. Back to the rail-
road, again our only protection was the rapid
fire and deadly aim of our riflemen. Thence
to the main line, the only point we dreaded

Safe Again. 93

much was passing the ravine. The return was
at last successfully accomplished. Notwith-
standing the severity of the fire to which we
were exposed but one of our number was in-
jured— mortally wounded, I was told. Had
it not been for the return fire of our own men
not one of us would have reached the picket
hne alive.

This was my first and only visit to the
picket line at this point. The same evening
I was detailed for guard duty at brigade head-
quarters, where I remained till after July 4th.

On this part of the line it was not the cus-
tom to station videttes in front of the picket
pits at night, as was usually done. A con-
stant fire was kept up day and night. The
boys used to invent various contrivances for
the special benefit of the "graybacks." I
have seen them work for hours to mold a
bullet of such form as would make a particu-
larly ugly sound, and then fire it across with
a double charge of powder. But the favorite
amusement was shooting iron ramrods. These
could be picked up by hundreds over the
battle-ground of the previous days, and, with a
little careful fixing, could be made to fly with
considerable accuracy. They were thought to

94

In the Ranks.

have peculiar penetrating power, if they could
be made to strike a picket pit with the sharp
end. As they would send such an unusual
missile whizdng through the air, they would
laugh and chuckle over the anticipated con-
sternation it would cause. One result often
prophesied was that they would ''string" a
goodly number of the enemy on the ramrod.
Whether such direful results were ever pro-
duced, we had no means of knowing.

Colonel Carle, of the One Hundred and
Ninety-first, then in command of the brigade,
had his headquarters in the woods about a
hundred yards in the rear of the line. Here
we were exposed to shells and stray rifle-
balls, w^iich occasionally reached us. The
only damage inflicted was the loss of a quart
of coffee, which was overturned by a fragment
of shell striking in our fire while we were pre-
paring dinner. About the same time one man
was wounded at division headquarters, a few
rods to our right.

It is remarkable how indifferent men be-
come to danger under such circumstances.
While myself and another soldier v^^ere en-
gaged in washing some clothes one day, at a
little stream to the right of this place, a bullet

Under Fire. 95

passed within a foot of our heads. The only
effect was to turn our conversation to the
subject of the range of rifles. It would nat-
urally be supposed that, under such constant
danger of death or wounds, men would be in
continual dread of what might happen. As a
rule, it is quite otherwise. Feelings of dread
and uneasiness gradually give way to a sense
of comparative security.

Coming under fire for the first time, a man
usually feels as if he were about as large as a
good-sized barn, and consequently very likely
to take in all the balls, shells, grape, and can-
ister, and such odds and ends, coming in his
direction. After a while he begins to realize
that he is not so large, after all, and frequent
and continued experience confirms him in the
view. That which unnerves the recruit is not
alone the fear of injury or death to himself,
but also the very nature of the terrible trag-
edy about to be enacted. He takes his place
in line of battle as they are forming for a
charge, knowing that hundreds of men who^
now stand with him there in the full flush of
life and health and the hopefulness of vigor-
ous manhood, in one hour will lie dead in
their blood, or be racked with the agony of

g6 In the Ranks.

shattered limbs or torn flesh. What man of
ordinary humanity can be unmoved by such
surroundings? No man should regard war
otherwise than with the utmost horror, nor
sanction it except as an awful, inevitable ne-
cessity. Some such feeling as this is in the
breast of most men on the eve of battle,
modified somewhat by the fact that the stern
necessity is present. The difference between
a recruit and a veteran is, mainly, that the
latter has learned to command, perhaps to
ignore, such feelings.

For my own part, I can remember few oc-
casions when such thoughts did not oppress
me during the waiting which is frequently in-
cident to the opening of an engagement.
These thoughts soon vanish amid the noise
and excitement of battle.

You may ask whether soldiers feel any
scruples as to shedding blood. I answer, first
and in general, kill is the game. You know
it, and prefer that the killing should be con-
fined as much as possible to the parties over
yonder. If this seems to you to be a cold-
blooded way of looking at things, please re-
member I am not representing the ideal, but
the real. Again, suppose the bullets are

Skirmishers. 97

coming thick and fast from the woods over
yonder, you soon discover that the only way
to stop them is to send in your own as close
as possible.

In firing, we always took aim, though
often we could not see the enemy on account
of trees or brush in which, they were con-
cealed. In such case we took aim at the
point where they were supposed to be, guided
by the smoke, a glimpse of a battle-flag, or
the glitter of a gun here and there. The men
were sometimes ordered to keep up a fire
when not an enemy could be seen. The One
Hundred and Ninetieth was generally sent on
the skirmish line. The men always preferred
this, and did not like it if this place was given
to another regiment. Those who were not
accustomed to skirmishing dreaded it. On
the other hand, our boys were uneasy if
placed in line of battle. As a matter of
course, the skirmishers took aim in fighting.
It was not seldom a question of marksman-
ship between two men, each the other's
target. We took advantage of every thing
possible in the way of "cover," the main
point being to go ahead, stir up every thing
in front, develop the enemy's position, drive

98 In the Ranks.

in his skirmishers. A line of skirmishers is
always thrown forward when the presence of
an enemy is suspected. They will soon dis-
cover what is in front. Advancing at a dis-
tance of five paces apart, the loss is not so
great as if a regular line were advanced in
the same manner. In the Summer of 1864
the One Hundred and Ninetieth was armed
with the Spencer rifle, an eight-shooter, and
well adapted to work on the skirmish line.

A Mutiny. 99

Chapter IX.

JUNE 23d the brigade was withdrawn from
this position for a day's rest. Our stay at
this point had been almost equivalent to con-
tinuous fighting. We had lost men every
day in killed and wounded. At headquarters
we had received orders to prepare to move.
After we were packed up ready to march,
there was still a little delay before starting.
Young Robbins and myself sat down Avith
our backs against a tree, taking it easy. As
we were sitting thus, a bullet came singing
over, and struck the tree close to our heads.
The ball was so far spent that it did not
enter the tree, and was picked up by Robbins.
We concluded this would do as a parting sa-
lute, and soon got out of that without any
lingering regrets.

On the morning of the 24th the brigade
moved to the left, and went into works before
occupied by men of the Second Corps, on
the Jerusalem plank-road. They should have
reached this position before daylight, but did

361201 A

lOO In the Ranks.

not. They could have reached the works
with very httle exposure by coming in a Httle
further to the right. Instead of this, the col-
umn Avas led by Colonel Carle through open
ground, less than eighteen hundred yards from
rebel batteries. These, of course, opened on
them with shell, causing considerable loss.
Moreland, of our company, was among the
killed. A shell struck him in the chest. The
men, without Avaiting for orders, but without
disorder, moved obliquely to the right, to
reach the protection of lower ground, which
there led up to the works. This called forth
such violent protest and condemnation from
Colonel Carle, that the result was a serious
mutiny in the One Hundred and Ninetieth.
Both officers and men felt that it was a blun-
der and an outrage to be thus needlessly ex-
posed ; and when Carle cursed them as cow-
ards, they resented it. Confusion followed.
The officers, almost to a man, refused to obey
orders, or do any thing, until the insult should
be retracted. The men were becoming dan-
gerous. Carle rode up to Adjutant Wright,
and ordered him to restore order, and take
the men on to the works. Wright replied
defiantly and profanely. Carle laid his hand

Fort Warren. ioi

on his pistol. Instantly a score of rifles were
leveled on him. Yells and curses resounded
on every side. He withdrew his hand, apol-
ogized to both officers and men, and the)^
moved on to the rifle-pits without further
trouble. Carle had the reputation of being a
good officer ; but it was said that he was
under the influence of whisky at this time. I
was with the brigade tent and baggage, and
knew nothing of this until I visited the com-
pany the next evening. Neither do I remem-
ber who was in command of the regiment on
this occasion. I think the colonel, lieu-
tenant-colonel, and major were all absent,
wounded. After we had been here a few
days, arrangements were made to desist from
picket firing ; and after this we were no longer
subjected to the peril resulting from this use-
less and barbarous practice. The loss of men
from this cause was said to be about eighty
a day in Grant's army, and was probably
not less on the other side. Where the lin.es
were so close, it was probably necessary and
justifiable.

I remained at brigade headquarters until
some time after July 4th, and was then re-
lieved and returned to the regiment. It was

102 In the Ranks.

then posted on the left of the Jerusalem road.
Our camp was on sloping ground, the rifle
pit at the foot of the slope. A few rods in
front rose a slight ridge, and beyond this, a
narrow fringe of timber shut out the rebel
works from direct view. In this timber, or
just beyond it, were our pickets. The well
from which we obtained our supply of water
was between our rifle-pits and the ridge
spoken of. Further to the left, our line ex-
tended into woods, where the timber had been
*• slashed" in front for several hundred yards.
Back of where Company C's camp was, on
the left side of the road as you faced the
works, we soon after began the construction
Df a, fort, called Fort Warren. It was four
hundred feet square, strongly and carefully
constructed. When finished, the ditch must
have been twelve feet deep. The rebels did
not get the range of our position at first, but
annoyed us a good deal at times by pitching
shells around at a venture. In a few days
they would strike the vicinity of the fort with
considerable accuracy, and kept at it with a
persistence which showed that they were cer-
tain of the locality. After the work had pro-
gressed some time we felt no concern about

"Hopping" Shells. 103

the shelling. If it became too lively, we
would stretch ourselves in the bottom of the
ditch, and wait for the thing to let up, with
great resignation, as we preferred this to
working.

The confederate gunners had a way of
sending shells "hopping" across, which was
rather uncomfortable. One evening they were
entertaining us in this fashion. The little
ridge in front of our pits generally prevented
shells from striking them, though the camp
on the sloping ground behind was exposed.
We had gone down to the works, waiting for
the rebels to get through with their fun,
which we regarded as comparatively harmless.
We could see the flash of the gun, and by
the time the shell would arrive, we would be
safely sheltered behind the pit. One of these,
however, struck the pit a few feet to my left.
We waited a few seconds, expecting to hear
it explode. Thinking the fuse had been extin-
guished, the men had risen up again and were
indulging in jocular remarks over the matter,
when, to our astonishment, the shell exploded
in the air about ten feet high and nearly over
the works, not far from where it struck.
Where it had been durine the

104 In THE Ranks.

seconds we could not imagine. Fortunately
no one was injured.

At this time, one of the men, who had
not yet had supper, became impatient and
started out for water. Just as he reached the
well a shell came bounding over and struck
him. A single exclamation of pain announced
the result. Some of the men were at his side
in a moment. A stretcher was procured, and
he was carried back to the ambulance stand,
to be taken to the hospital. The shell struck
him about midway between the knee and
ankle, leaving the fragment dangling by a few
shreds.

While engaged in constructing Fort War-
ren we alternated in work with a regiment of
colored troops. They were fine, soldierly
fellows, and stood the shelling quite as well
as any green troops.

At the entrance of the inclosure, of course,
there was no ditch, a space being left about
twelve feet wide. Passing along, one day, I
saw a young colored soldier standing on this
narrow passage between the ditches, curiously
examining a twelve-pound shell which had
been thrown over, and had failed to explode.
Addressing him and taking the shell in my

Striking Tents. 105

hands, I proceeded to give him a scientific
explanation of how the thing worked. After
expatiating at considerable length and in glow-
ing language on the prodigious effects of such
projectiles, I then unfolded to him the man-
ner in which this particular sample might be
exploded.

•'Do you see that thing?" pointing to the
fuse.

"Yes, sah, I sees him," replied the dusky
warrior.

" Well, now, if I spit on that — the thing will
go off See here — yeep ! yeep r as I spat on it
and hurled it into the ditch. With a yell
and a screech a Comanche might have been
proud of, that darkey "lit out." As he ran
he turned his head, and seeing me dancing a
war-dance to work off the extra hilarity which
his fright had occasioned, he pulled up and
joined in the laugh.

Work at this place continued about two
weeks. One morning we were roused up
before daylight and ordered to strike tents
quietly. In ten minutes the column was mov-
ing down the plank road toward the rear.
We went about half a mile and camped. The
next morning we again struck tents before

io6 In the Ranks.

daylight, and moving toward the front, we
formed line of battle in the rear of Fort
Warren. Here we lay till after sunrise, when
we returned to about the same place from
which we had started. What all this meant
was more than we could make out, but we
supposed that an attack was- anticipated.

We were then placed on picket still farther
to the left. We called it picket duty; but
as far as I could ascertain, we were the only
force in front of the enemy on this part of the
line. This ground had been fought over.
The Second Corps had been driven from here
June 23d, with heavy loss of men and guns.
From the manner in which the trees were cut
and splintered by bullets and cannon-shot, it
would scarcely seem possible for a human
being to remain alive on part of the ground.
The loss had been terrible. Many of the dead
had been buried in the trenches. Others, by
the score, were buried where they fell, in
rebel fashion, by throwing some dirt over
them where they lay. Now, after the lapse
of a couple of weeks, the dirt had washed
from them, in some instances. Here and
there you might see an arm, a leg, or a
ghastly head protruding from a slight mound

An Intruder. 107

of earth. If any man was enamored of the
glory of war, it was good for him to sit down
and meditate in such a field as this.

Two of the boys sat down to their dinner,
one day, near some bushes at the edge of the
woods. The coffee was poured out, the fry-
ing-pan, with its contents of fried meat was
beside the blackened coffee-cups. They were
squatted on the ground on either side eating
with a hearty relish, when one of them no-
ticed more closely the bushes just overhang-
ing the frying-pan, Avithin a few inches of it.
A human hand, dried, black, shriveled, pro-
truded from the leaves, the distorted fingers
in attitude as if about to make a grab at the
contents of the pan. You suppose they
turned away in horror at such an intrusion on
their feast. Why so? The dead were all
around us. When we slept at night behind
the trenches, we made our beds by them.
Under such circumstances human nature suf-
fers a reaction, and horrors become the com-
mon things of life. These young men did
nothing of the kind. With a light remark
suggested by the idea of such a party wanting
to rob them of their dinner, they moved the
pan a little, and finished their meal. This

io8 In the Ranks.

done, they examined further, and found it to
be the half-buried remains of a rebel soldier.
On a scrap of paper they found the name,
company, regiment, and State. The paper
also contained a request for the burial of the
body. They prepared a grave and buried him.
Then as a matter of coitrtesy and humanity,
one of them went out between the lines and
was met there by a rebel soldier, to whom he
related the circumstances, and requested him
to join in this becoming duty by preparing
a properly inscribed head-board. This was
cheerfully done, and the board set up at the
grave. In passing to and fro between the
lines other dead were found, and these, too,
were decently interred.

The days passed on pleasantly, and with-
out special incident. No videttes were kept
out, except in the night. None were needed,
as the ground was open and level between us
and the enemy. There was no picket firing,
and we had a very comfortable time of it.
We could watch the artillery "practice,"
which took place almost every evening, be-
tween the batteries on our right, without any
apprehension that they would practice on us.

One evening I sat on the rifle-pit, watch-

Artillery Practice. 109

ing this. Scores of the men were doing the
same, or were idUng the time away as suited
them best. The sun had sunk from sight ;
but as the shells would burst over the rebel
redoubt, which was then the mark of our ar-
tillerists, they seemed balls of silver, in the
rays of the sun, now invisible to us. Then
they Avould expand, and roll away in little
snowy cloudlets, almost before the sound of
the explosion would reach us. Suddenly a
great column of smoke shot upward from the
redoubt ; dark at first, but turning to a silver
whiteness, as the rays of the sun touched it.
A sound that seemed to shake the earth came
rumbling through the air. A shell had reached
and exploded the magazine. A laugh, with
a cheer here and there, ran along our heavy
picket-line. The rebels called out: "Stop
laughing, Yanks!" ''Stop that laughing!"
Whether this would have resulted in an
outbreak between the pickets, is uncertain ;
but a moment later a shell came screaming
across, about ten feet above the pits, pass-
ing a few rods to my right. Thinking this
was but introductory, the men dived for the
pits, and the laugh was suddenly and indefi-
nitely postponed. Then a general '' ha-ha"

no In the Ranks.

rose from the rebel pickets, and good nature
was restored.

Some time in July I was taken sick with
fever. I stayed a day or two at the surgeon's
tent, but can not remember much about what
occurred. I gave away every thing I had.
Fortunately I gave my gun to Joe Bovard,
who took care of it. I remember nothing of
this, but he told me so afterward. I have
also an indistinct recollection of being sent
away in an ambulance, of being very sick at
City Point, of the dull, dreamy indolence of
convalescence. I was then sent to Davis' Isl-
and, New York. I improved rapidly during
the voyage. I was here but a few days when
I received a furlough, to report at Philadel-
phia, September loth. The patriotic people
of Pittsburg had ample and gei^erous arrange-
ments to care for the sick and wounded sol-
diers that passed through their city. Arriving
there weak and dispirited, a gentleman met
me at the train, and took me to a place where
every convenience and comfort was provided.
I had looked so long on the forbidding, bloody
front of war, that it was a most pleasing rev-
elation to discover that back here was the
warm, lovinc: heart of Peace.

In the Hospital. i i i

Chapter X. .

I ARRIVED at Philadelphia the night of
September loth. There had been a seri-
ous riot during the evening, between the sol-
diers from the hospital and some of those
patriotic citizens who, although painfully loyal
at times, have a great antipathy to blue. I
reached the Citizens' Hospital without moles-
tation. The next morning a large crowd of
rioters gathered in the vicinity of the hospital,
and a murderous raid was anticipated ; but
they dispersed Avithout any demonstration.

From Philadelphia I was transferred, at my
own request, to Little York, Pennsylvania.
Although now quite recovered, I was detained
here some time, in the hospital drum corps,
as a musician. We went out one night, on
the occasion of a Republican meeting. We
started to parade the principal streets with a
transparency, the usual following of small
boys, etc. A crowd of patriots cheerfully
greeted us with stones, brickbats, and like
tokens of sympathy. We returned to head-

112 In the Ranks.

quarters In about twenty minutes, a demoral-
ized outfit. The bass drum was broken, one
drummer's head was peeled, the transparency
was smashed, and we were mad. The man-
agers gave us a dollar apiece ; we disposed of
our instruments, and started up street to look
for .any little incident that might afford balm
for our wounded feelings. Opportunities were
plenty, and many a cracked head bore testi-
mony to the zeal with which the great national
issues were discussed.

About the middle of October, myself and
a large number of other convalescents started
to rejoin our regiments, at the front. We
went by rail to Baltimore, and remained over
r'ght at Fort Federal Hill, to go on by
steamer, on the morrow. The "heavies,"
doing garrison duty here, were accustomed
to dealing with recruits, and counted on mak-
ing them step around in fine military style.
This crowd was composed of men to whom
soldiering was no novelty, and they had no
fancy for extras. Hence, when they were or-
dered, with much pomp and assurance, to fall
in line, in front of the barracks that evening,
for roll call, at nine o'clock, there was some-
thing of a scene. The anathematical display

Roll Call. 113

has rarely been equaled in modern times.
Perhaps twenty-five men out of several hun-
dred at last took their place in a sort of line,
with much gravity and feigned decorum, play-
ing green, standing in any thing but soldierly
attitude. Behind them, perched on the rail-
ing, windows, or wherever they could best see
the show, was about as unruly and uproarious
a crowd as could well be found. After vainly
trying to bring order out of confusion, the
sergeant, in great disgust, began to call the
roll. A name is called :

"Here! "

"Here!"

"Here!"

On all sides the word " Here " is bellowed
and screamed by a score of voices. The face
of the burly sergeant grows red with fury,
but he proceeds.

"John Smith."

Another chorus of hooting, jeering re-
sponse, and then, in a momentary lull of the
hubbub, a stentorian voice solemnly an-
nounces :

" He 's gone to long ago."

This rather startling announcement is hailed
with another outburst of laughter, yells, and

114 In The Ranks.

cat-calls, interjected with allusions to the ser-
geant, which were far from complimentary.
Finally, having exhausted his extensive vo-
cabulary of maledictions on that mob of
obdurate sinners^ this patriotic officer took him-
self away, and the boys turned in for the night.
The next forenoon we went on board a
steamer, but did not start down the bay till
toward evening. The vessel may be called
"steamer" as a matter of courtesy. The
thing went by steam, but I would not care to
ship a cargo of hogs on such a contrivance,
unless they were of the kind that ran vio-
lently down the mountain. During the night
the weather changed. A strong wind, with
rain, swept across the bay. I was asleep on
the deck when the storm came on, and awoke
thoroughly wet and cold. Leaving my water-
soaked blanket where it lay, I started to go
below. The door was closed. A soldier,
standing in the hatchway, suggested that by
our united efforts we could push it open. I
put my shoulder against the door, and he
braced himself against me, and we gave a
heave. The door went open and I went in,
plunging headlong into the crowd lying on
the floor, as close as packed herring.

Rascality. 115

Nobody swore, except those who were
most severely bruised by our feet. There
was an opening left in the side of the vessel,
about two feet wide by twelve feet long. In
the slow-going days before the war, this stately
ship was probably used for transporting cattle,
and the hole was made for the humane pur-
pose of giving the animals air. Now it let in
both air and water. I finally made my way
down into the hold, and there, with the coal,
dirt, and other thing-s, found a more acfreeable
temperature. We reached Fortress Monroe
the next evening. Here we were transferred
to another vessel, and went up the James
River, arriving at City Point the following
evening.

This trip was very unpleasant. Besides
the discomfort caused by the stormy weather,
we were not provided with rations. No
doubt provisions were furnished, and somebody
got the benefit of them. On the second day
those in charge of the vessel, in collusion
with the officer in charge of our escort, pro-
posed selling us lunch at the rate of fifty
cents for a slice of meat and a piece of bread.
Their enterprise did not pan out very well.
But few bought, preferring hunger to submit-

Ii6 In the Ranks.

ting to the outrage. During the entire trip I
ate not more than two ordinary hard-tacks.

Arriving at City Point, we were provided
with a substantial supper. Our hotel accom-
modations, however, were not strictly first-
class. Recruits and returning convalescents
arriving here were provided with lodgings
during their stay in a huge board structure
known by the expressive name of "The Bull
Pen." As to rooms, furnishings, and general
appointments, the government had been ex-
ceedingly frugal. In fact, the entire outfit
consisted of four walls, roof, and floor, joined
together on principles of the strictest econ-
omy. The floor was comfortably carpeted
Avith mud to the depth of about an inch and
a half. Tobacco chewings, cigar stumps, etc.,
added variety and flavor.

On this particular occasion the institution
was so crowded that you could not get room
to lie down, all to yourself. This was no
serious objection, as it furnished ample apol-
ogy for resting your feet on the other fellow's
stomach. Thieves found the ''Bull Pen" an
excellent place for plying their trade. The
recruits and substitutes finding entertainment
here usually had some money.

Thief.

it;

This night, after the h'ghts were out, and
all had been quiet for some time, I lay doub-
led up on the floor still wide awake. In such
a gathering there are usually some splendid
snorers. This crowd had some performers of
rare merit. My location was toward the end
of the building. Lying here, listening drows-
ily to the odd sounds about me, I heard a
slight commotion down toward the center of
the building, then a blow, and the cry of
''Thief!" Then more blows, a general rising
up of that part of the congregation, and a
pouring out of profane objurgations that was
surprising. The swearing and pounding went
on with great vigor for some minutes, those
not directly engaged cheering the others on
with hoots and yells. In fact, a free fight
was going on down there in the intense dark-
ness, every body thumping every one within
reach, thinking to spot the thief. Finally
some one struck a match. As its flickering
rays lighted up the gloom, they revealed a
dozen or so of disgusted combatants glaring
savagely on each other, and each Avanting to
know who was the thief Of course it was
impossible to find him now.

ii8 In the Ranks.

Chapter XI.

THE next day I reached the regiment,
then on the Welden Railroad, near the
Yellow Tavern. I say "the regiment." I
mean what was left of it. Instead of the
large, full organization I left in July, it was
now but a remnant. Four commissioned
officers of the One Hundred and Ninetieth
remained. These Avere Colonel Pattee, Adju-
tant Wright, Captain Birkman, and Lieuten-
ant Peacock. Of Company C, there were
but ten men, m}'self making the eleventh.

A terrible calamity had befallen them at
the time the Welden Railroad was taken from
the enemy, August i8th and 19th. The
brigade Avas sent forward to skirmish. They
advanced and drove every thing before them
till they struck the main force of the enemy.
Here they fortified and held their ground
without support until the afternoon of the
19th, when they were compelled to surrender.
A few escaped by taking the suicidal risk of
running through a gap in the rebel lines.

All That was Left of Them. 119

Mike Coleman, Captain Birkman, and a few
others escaped in this way. Mike told me
he heard men call "Halt! Halt!" on every
side ; but he looked neither to the right nor
left, and went ahead. Dave Steen was killed
in this battle. A ball struck him in the
breast, a little to the right, and high up, sev-
ering one of the large blood vessels. As he
fell, two of the men ran to him. He asked
for his Bible — his only words. Hastily open-
ing his knapsack, they handed it to him. Al-
most as his fingers closed on the holy book,
his spirit hastened away from that scene of
turmoil to the rest above. He was a brave
soldier and a true man.

After the ground had been re-occupied, as
it quickly was by men of the Ninth Corps,
his remaining comrades buried him, and
placed around his grave a rude framework to
protect it from disturbance. The few that
escaped, together with returning absentees,
represented the organization under Colonel
Pattee, who had now recovered from his
wound. During September and October the
regiment suffered considerable loss in fighting
along the left of our line at various points.

On one occasion they were ordered to ad-

120 In the Ranks.

vance and "feel" the enemy. The design
Avas merely to drive in his pickets, and com-
pel him to show his strength. As soon as
the command "forward" was given, away
they went with a yell, sweeping the rebel
pickets before them, and on into the works
beyond, before the enemy knew what was the
matter or could recover from his astonishment.
An attempt was made to recall them as they
went rushing on toward the rebel works ; but
signals and bugle-calls were unheeded. They
entered, and for a time held a part of the rebel
Avorks. Of course, this could not last long.
It was not the intention to bring on a general
engagement, and they were not supported.
In a little while they were driven back again
with serious loss. Captain Kinsey, of Com-
pany C, was severely wounded, and never
returned. In trying to bring Captain Kinsey
off the field, young Ov^erdoff was killed, shot
through the head. When he first came to
the company he was not very well liked ; but
his kind and pleasant bearing soon made
friends of all. From his first experience in
the Wilderness until his death, he was loved
and honored as a brave and fearless soldier.
In the latter part of November the Ninth

The Roundheads. 121

Corps was passing, one day, and I went over
to the road, and waited till the One Hundredth
Pennsylvania came along. Here were many
familiar faces. George Preston was there, his
face as honest and bright as in boyhood's
days ; and George Dillinger — or was his name
Hugh? Names become confused as the mind
runs back over so. many years. What I saw
there was but a section of the past slipped
forward, and given a different setting. My
earliest recollections were connected with
these faces, when, at church or school in the
pleasant Summer-time, in one we listened to
the good Irish pastor's ** sixteenthly " and
**seventeenthly " and **in conclusion" as se-
dately as our seniors ; and in the other we
took our regular flogging, as prescribed by
the lamented Solomon. The stalwart boys in
blue were the same boys still ; but now they
were the heroes of many a hard-fought battle.
The hurried questions and answers of that
brief interview touched upon as tragic scenes
as ever employed the pen of genius. They
told how one fell here, another there — dead
for the land they loved.

December 7, 1864, we started on a raid,
the object of which was to disturb the enemy's

122 In the Ranks.

railroad communications toward the south.
We followed the Jerusalem plank-road one
day's march, reaching Notaway River in the
evening, at Freeman's Ford. Our force was
a strong one, consisting of the Fifth Corps,
under General Warren, and a division of cav-
alry. With this force we felt quite at home
within one day's march of the main arm}-.
Once across the river, and at a greater dis-
tance, we might stir up all the game we could
take care of Such was the feeling expressed
by the soldiers as they discussed the situation
on the march that day, and indulged in con-
jectures as to our probable destination and
the outcome of the expedition. Of course,
the company wag had a hearing while he ex-
pounded his views as to what we would do to
the Confederacy or the Confederacy to us.
The soldiers had confidence in General War-
ren, and regarded him as a prudent and
efficient officer. He had the reputation of
being personally brave and fearless.

As evening approached, we turned to the
right from the plank-road, and halted in a
corn-field, not far from the river. As we were
about to break ranks we heard on our right
the clatter and snapping of gun-caps, which,

On the March, 123

in a regiment armed with muzzle-loading guns,
usually follows the command to prepare to
load. This sounded like business; but nothing
further indicating trouble occurred, and soon
the cheerful camp-fires enlivened the scene, and
we proceeded to make ourselves comfortable.

It was the general impression that we
would soon move on, and make a night
march ; but as time passed, the men made
down their beds, and addressed themselves to
sleep. About ten or eleven o'clock, orders —
perhaps delayed — were received for the men
to camp for the night, the march to be re-
sumed at two in the morning. It at once
entered into the fertile brain of Lieutenant
Peacock to extract a little fun from the cir-
cumstances. Going to a group of men sleep-
ing soundly under their blankets, he deliber-
ately roused them up and informed them that
they could sleep till two o'clock.

** Well, what the did you wake us up

for, to tell us that?"

"Why, you lunatic, aren't two sleeps

better than one ?"

Then would follow a volley of protestations
and modified blessings from one side and the
other.

124 In the Ranks.

At two in the morning we were again on
the march. We passed Sussex Court House
and a place called Gorman's Well. In the
evening we reached the North Cross House,
on the Halifax road, thirty miles from Pe-
tersburg. Here we struck the Welden Rail-
road, and the work of destruction began.
It Avas an exciting scene as the work pro-
gressed. There was an abundance of ties
along the road, and of these fires were built
beside the track. As far as the eye could
reach the track was a line of blazing fires and
busy, shouting men. A brigade would stack
arms on the bank beside the track ; then,
taking hold of the rails, would begin to lift
and surge on it altogether, shouting in unison :

"Ohe!"

^'Ohe!"

"Set her up T

*'Ohe!"

Soon it would begin to give, and quickly
would be hurled over from the road-bed with
a ripping, crashing sound, followed by the
shouts and cheers of the men. Then came
the process of detaching the part thus over-
turned from that still undisturbed, if tin's had
not been previously accomplished. Using a

Destruction. 125

length of rail as a lever, this was quickly
done, and in a surprisingly brief space of time
the rails of a half mile of road would be lying
on blazing piles of ties. As a general rule,
the rails were laid on the fire, and the heating
of the middle portion would cause them to
bend by their own weight, thus rendering
them useless. When there was time, the men
twisted the hot rails around trees or telegraph
poles, or wreathed them together in fantastic
shapes. We worked nearly all night. Toward
morning we halted in a field, and slept for a
couple of hours. Early in the morning the
work was resumed, and continued till evening,
with only brief intermission for dinner. It
rained during the day, and became very cold
toward evening. Night found us near a
stream ; I do not know whether it was the
Meherrin River or a tributary of that stream.
If the latter, it must have been near its junc-
tion with the river. The town of Bellefield is
on the Meherrin. We tore up the road to
that town. The town was held by a force of
rebel infantry, and also artillery to the number
of seven or eight guns.

A dismal storm of snow and sleet came on
in the evening, and we could only anticipate

126 In the Ranks.

a night of discomfort. Not long after dark
we were ordered to fall in, with only arms
and ammunition. The intention was to sur-
prise the rebel force at Bellefield, or, at least,
this was the belief of the men. If so, the
project was abandoned. We crossed the
stream, and tore up some more track, and
returned. At this time the only man lost by
the regiment during the raid was killed.

As we overturned a stretch of rail, as be-
fore described, he was caught under it as it
fell. In the darkness and confusion no one
noticed the accident but myself; and such
was the noise and shouting, it was some time
before I could make it known. As soon as
possible we lifted the rails and drew him out.
His chest was crushed by the great weight, and
he scarcely breathed after he was extricated.

We spent the night standing around the
fires. Sleep was impossible. The freezing
mud was ankle deep, and, as the sleety storm
swept by, it encased the outer world in an icy
covering. Muffled in rubber blankets, crouched
around the fires, to get what warmth and com-
fort they could, as the driving wind whirled
the flames this way and that, the soldiers
waited for the return of day.

Return. i 27

The next morning the return march began.
Flankers were kept out on each side of the
column, to guard against surprise, and to pre-
vent men from straggling out from the col-
umn, as it was known that rebel cavalry was
hanging on our flank and rear, ready to inflict
whatever damage they could. There was an
occasional dash on our rear; but this was
easily repulsed, and the day passed without
special incident.

We camped that night in woods, two days*
march from Petersburg. The storm still con-
tinued, but not so severe as during the pre-
vious night. I was fortunate enough to se-
cure a piece of board, by means of which I
provided myself comfortable lodging for the
night. That board was torn from the side of
a church near by. It was none the worse for
that. Perhaps that church never before did
any service in the cause of loyalty and the
Union. That night it kept some Union sol-
diers off the wet ground. The next morning
the march was resumed. Before we had gone
far, we made a discovery that was enough to
bring the blush of shame to the face of any
civilized man. Some of our men, who had
fallen behind in the march out, had been in-

128 In the Ranks.

humanly butchered. I suppose the citizens,
with their usual stupidity, thought we would
never return, and no day of reckoning would
come; and, finding these men in their power,
murdered them with a cold-blooded brutality
only equaled by the most degraded savages.
Some were found riddled with bullets and
stripped of their clothing ; some had their
throats cut, besides gunshot wounds. My
first information was from Mike Coleman,
who told me, with a look of horror in his
face, of the blood-curdling sight he had just
witnessed.

This discovery had a peculiar effect upon
the soldiers. Even those who were usually un-
demonstrative gave vent to their feelings in
hearty curses on the rebellion, and every thing
connected with it. The wish was freely ex-
pressed that Lee might intercept us, and bring
on the final battle between civilization and
barbarism. Up to this time there had been
no destruction of private property, except a
mill, which had been burned as a war meas-
ure, and a house, from which a cavalryman
had been treacherously shot; but now, either
with or without orders, the men began to
burn and destroy every thing within their

Retaliation. i 29

reach. Even the fences were fired when it
could be done. Not a single able-bodied man
could be seen along the route; they had fled
from the wrath to come.

The One Hundred and Nintieth was on the
flank most of the day. About the middle of
the afternoon, we reached a group of houses
and outbuildings, which might almost be called
a village. Here the head of the column halted,
and the flankers drew in near the road. A
large dwelling-house stood on the left of the
road, the side on which we were. The build-
ings on ^the other side of the road were al-
ready in flames, and men were preparing to
fire the dwelling-house. An old man was
looking out of a little out-door kitchen. He
was leaning on his staff, trembling with age,
cold, and terror. A woman, bearing in her
arms a babe but a few months old, came out
of the house. Her pale face and quiet bear-
ing, as she walked hurriedly away from the
door, touched the gentler nature in the sol-
diers' hearts, that was now dominated by the
tiger, which the sight of blood unjustly shed
had aroused. Sympathy was marked on every
face. Not an unkind word was spoken ; but

the house must burn. This general distress
9

130 In the Ranks.

must teach the lesson that even war has its
Hmit of barbarity.

That evening we recrossed the Notaway
River, and camped about a quarter of a mile
beyond, where we camped the first night out.
Here we were joined by troops that had been
sent down from Petersburg for that purpose.

A large house, perhaps a tavern, stood
near the road, nearly opposite the site of our
former camp. We had not been long in
camp till we saw this house, and the build-
ings connected with it, wrapped in flames.
From the fact that the place was not fired at
once, we supposed it would be spared. The
case was thus explained : When the men first
came to the house, they were informed, on in-
quiry, that there was no man about. The
woman who seemed to be the mistress of the
house, claimed to be a widow. Investigation
revealed a Springfield rifle and the uniform of
a murdered soldier concealed about the prem-
ises. This was sufficient. The house was
fired ; and, as the flames spread, a man ran
out from some place of concealment, and
tried to escape. He received the mercy he
had given.

During the night the sky cleared, and by

Keeping Warm. 131

morning the ground was frozen. You would
suppose that the soldiers suffered from the
cold. Most of them slept as comfortably as
you would at home, on such a night, covered
over with your quilts and blankets. How was
it done? Every man wore an overcoat, car-
ried one wool blanket, a rubber blanket, and
at least one piece of canvas tent, five feet
square. We " bunked " at least two together,
sometimes three. This gave two or three
heavy wool blankets, as many rubber blankets,
besides the shelter tents. If the ground was
wet, we put a rubber blanket and a piece of
tent under us ; otherwise, only one of these,
and the rest over us. Then, with a fire on
one side, and a log on the other, there was no
trouble about getting a good night's sleep.
Such were our sleeping arrangements this cold
night.

The march of the following day was very
trying, because of the roughness of the ground
and the extreme cold. In the evening we ar-
rived in the vicinity of Petersburg, and took
our place on the left of our lines, rather to-
ward the rear. The loss of the Union forces
during this raid was about one hundred, killed
and wounded.

132 In the R.\nks.

Chapter XII.

OUR camp was in woods. The ground
was somewhat flat and wet, but with
good facihties for draining. A deep ditch
was dug around the camp on three sides.
We had plenty of timber near the camp for
building tents. The tents built by the sol-
diers for Winter- quarters were generally about
nine feet by seven, built of logs, five feet
high. A ridge pole was fastened up at the
proper height, over which four shelter tents,
buttoned together, were stretched and brought
down to the top log on either side, and se-
curely fastened. This formed the roof The
gable ends were closed with pieces of shelter-
tent, boards, or some substitute.

A door about three feet high was left
in the side next the company street. A
chimney, with fire-place, was made at one
end. carried up a foot above the roof It was
built of clay and sticks. Usually the tents
were uniform in this respect, the chimney of
each at the same side of the tent. Two beds

An Execution. 133

or bunks, one above the other, were made of
poles covered with a layer of leafy twigs, if
possible. On these were laid wool blankets,
rubber blankets, extra clothing, etc., making
a very comfortable bed. Cracker boxes fur-
nished material for door, seats, and table.
The chinks between the logs were closed with
clay mortar. The Winter-quarters of a regi-
ment was simply a neat, cleanly village of
small log houses, with this peculiarity, that
only one row of houses faced on a street.

A military execution took place not long
after our return from the Welden raid. A
man had deserted to the enemy from a Mary-
land regiment, Avas captured, tried, and sen-
tenced to be hung. The troops were ordered
out to witness the execution. A hollow
square was formed around the scaffold, and in
due time the doomed man was led forth, ac-
companied by a guard, provost-marshal, and
chaplain. The prisoner promptly ascended
the scaffold, the sentence was read, and prayer
was offered by the chaplain. The rope was
placed about his neck, and an attempt was
made to draw the cap over his head. It was
found that the cap should have been put on
first, and they loosed the rope to change it.

134 ' ^N "^^^ Ranks.

At this point the trap-door gave way, and
precipitated them all to the ground. The
straps with which the prisoner's knees had
been bound were now loosed, so that he
could again ascend the scaffold. He sat on
the steps while repairs were made. When all
was ready he took his place on the trap-door,
first testing it with his weight, to see whether
it might again give way prematurely. The
cap was now drawn over his head, the noose
adjusted, and the trap sprung. After he had
hung for some time, we marched back to
camp.

Our stay at this camp was very pleasant.
The location was supposed to be unhealthy,
and they issued whisky and quinine to the
men for a while. This did more harm than
good.

My tentmates were George Dunn, Joe Bo-
vard, and Andy Shank. Joe Bovard had
been in the service from the beginning of
the war. He was over six feet in height,
a good-natured, manly fellow. George Dunn
extended upward to an altitude of at least six
feet and a half, besides running along the
ground an extraordinary distance before being
started in a vertical direction. Our tent was

A Hop. 135

larger than the ordinary, ten by twelve feet,
well daubed and comfortable.

One day Jim M'Guire solicited "the hos-
pitality of our tent for the purpose of enter-
taining some friends." This meant that they
wanted to have a high old time, and our tent
would be very convenient for that purpose
because of its size. Early next morning the
festivities began. Commissary whisky was
provided in abundance. ** Sport " (William
Harris) furnished music for the occasion,
which he extracted from an old fiddle pro-
cured from some unexplainable source. The
ball opened with a good pull all around from
the canteen. Ordinary forms of entertain-
ment and social enjoyment soon became stale
and they concluded to try the mazy dance.
Our tent was floored with puncheons, and the
racket which they kicked up was something
marvelous. Occasionally I looked in to see
how the thing was progressing. "Sport"
was perched upon the upper bunk, his chin
on the fiddle, his tongue protruding from his
mouth, and wiggling to and fro in time to the
the music, while on his face Vv-as a look of
solemn intensity, as if his life depended on
his efforts. The dances were necessarily

136 In the Ranks.

limited to "French Fours," but these were
rendered with great animation and in the
latest style of art. As George Dunn would
execute some of the fancy flourishes with
which their figures were profusely ornamented,
his head would bob against the canvas roof
This was suggestive. Procuring a stick of
proper size, I crossed over to the rear street,
and stood back of the tent watching my op-
portunity. Presently Dunn's head came bob-
bing against the canvas, and I brought the
stick down on it with a good, sharp crack.
The effect was all that could be desired.
There came an unearthly bellow, accompa-
nied, I grieve to say, with many exclamations
suggestive of the future prospects of the cul-
prit who had cracked the head of the festive
dancer. Out they poured through the little
door in hot haste to chastise the offender; but
he was nowhere to be found. FaiHng in their
search, they returned and resumed their exer-
cises.

Although the day was quite mild and
pleasant, there was some fire in the tent, and
a thin column of smoke rose lazily from the
chimney top. Thinking to add still further
the spice of variety to the occasion, I took a

' Ingratitude. 137

cast-off garment and spread it over the top of
the chimney, and awaited events.

Meantime within, the dance waxed warm
again. The fiddle shrieked, the government
stogies thundered upon the puncheon floor;
but soon it was evident that ail things were
not as they had been from the beginning.
Confusion first fell upon the fiddler. His
dulcet notes, as they whirled through their
lofty flight, reeled, and staggered, and fell, to
give place to anathemas, steady and well sus-
tained. Smoke filled the tent, and came
creeping out through every crevice. They
rose up as one man and cursed the chimney
with great vehemence. They came scram-
bling out of the door, wiping their weeping
eyes. A brief investigation revealed the
cause of their discomfiture. In dislodging
the offending garment from the chimney they
nearly wrecked that ornamental structure.
As soon as Shank saw what was the matter,

he at once announced that "that had

done it. He had played that trick on him
once before, when he was getting dinner."
From tliis and other remarks that were made,
I thought it prudent to withhold all further
co-operation. Toward evening the entertain-

T38 In the Ranks.

ment came to a close. This was hastened by-
unfavorable rumors from regimental head-
quarters. After carefully reconnoitering the
position, I ventured to present myself at the
tent. Dunn was deposited on the lower bunk,
overcome by the varied duties of the day.
The upper bunk had not proved equal to the
emergency, and had broken down. The table,
seats, and door were broken. The canvas
roof was torn loose at one side and hung dis-
consolately from the ridge-pole. Shank was
in the tent; Joe Bovard was sitting on a
stump in front, evidently holding a discussion
with his stomach. *' Sport" was capering
around with many sage remarks and comical
gesticulations intended to express his sympa-
thy. Just then Shank came out of the tent,
and made for him, to chastise him for some
offense. "Sport" fled up the street and
across a little bridge to the parade-ground.
The feet of his pursuer were heavy, and
when he came to the bridge he paused, re-
flected a moment, and deliberate^ tore it up,
and returned with a very satisfied expression
of countenance, remarking :

"I've cu-cut off 'is communications off,
anyhow."

Prohibition.

139

This little episode of camp life seems to
reach a very flat conclusion. But the facts
leave no alternative. It required about two
days' diligent labor to clean up and repair, to
say nothing about Dunn's head, stomach, and
general constitution. The working of pro-
hibition was well illustrated in the army. If
the traffic had been "regulated", as it is
throughout a large portion of our country,
the effectiveness of the army would have been
destroyed within six months. As it was, the
officers in charge of the commissary depart-
ment were prohibited from selling to the pri-
vates. They tell us now that there is no use
of trying to reduce drunkenness in this way.
We cite the army as an illustration of suc-
cessful prohibition. If men had been inclined
to evade the law, they could have obtained
liquor as readily as in civil life. If the evil
had become manifest, a remedy could have
been appHed more directly than in civil life.
But it was not necessary. If intoxicating
Hquors are made difficult to obtain, multitudes
who would otherwise use them and become
drunkards will not take the trouble to procure
them. We affirm that this was demonstrated
in the Army of the Potomac. There was

140 In the Ranks.

very little drunkenness. A few would secure
whisky, and become intoxicated. Sometimes
it was accomplished by forging the name of
an officer to an order. In the revel just de-
scribed one of the men disguised himself in
the uniform of an officer, and bought the
whisky.

I never knew whisky to do the men any
good. It was certainly one of the strangest
of follies to issue whisky rations, as was some-
times done on occasions of peculiar exposure.
The men who never tasted stimulants had the
most endurance, and suffered the least from
cold or exposure of any kind. We wonder
at the delusions of witchcraft, and can scarcely
comprehend how men could so abandon com-
mon sense as to give credence to such folly ;
but the absurdity of the use of alcoholic stim-
ulants is not less puerile. The time will come
when it will be told with pitying wonder how
men of this day stupidly ignore the ghastly
results of the liquor traffic to themselves and
others, and with supine meanness bow their
necks to the yoke which it fastens upon them.
They will believe the most barefaced lies, as-
sent to the shallowest sophisms of the liquor-
dealers, and turn a deaf ear to the most evi-

Political Economy. 141

dent dictates of common sense, justice, and
prudence.

I think it is Thomas Carlyle says: " Eng-
land has a population of thirty millions, mostly
fools." The same comment is fairly applica-
ble to every so-called civilized people in the
world. The dealers say, "It is a benefit to
trade." The fools echo, *'We can not have
prosperity in state, county, or town without
the dram-shops." The brewers and distillers
say, "It enhances the value of property and
products of all kinds." The fools answer,
with idiotic promptness and docility, "Yes,
we must continue this ulcerous cancer upon
the body politic — this unclean, pestilential,
gangrenous sore, reeking with disease, vice,
poverty, madness, to increase the price of
grain." Yes, gentlemen, grain is more profit-
able deposited in the stomach of your son or
your neighbor's son, in the form of whisky,
mixed with sundry deadly drugs to give it
"tone," than in pork, beef, or mutton, or
transformed into the power which sets the
whirling spindles of the East in motion, fires
up the black caverns of a thousand furnaces,
and fills unnumbered homes with joy and
plenty. This would do very well if you saw

142 In the Ranks.

fit to wait till the redeemed drunkard would
recover health and manly ambition, and pro-
vide his family with sufficjent food, clothing,
and shelter. But there is a more direct way
to turn your produce into money. Transform
it into liquor. With this, arm the vampires
that suck the people's blood, and turn them
loose after him. Post them in every city,
village, cross-roads. They will strip him,
ruin him, finally kill him ; but never mind
that. They will make you quick returns in
bright dollars. There is, however, one dis-
advantage incident to this method, which is
worthy of consideration. The victims of the
dram-seller die, and he must make more
drunkards or his business will be gone. He
may get his clutches on your boy. He will,
if he can. This would be very unpleasant.
However, if such a thing should occur, you
can drive your son away, banish him from
your sight. Then, if you should hear some
time that he has ended the struggle with pis-
tol, rope, or poison, thus decreasing the in-
come of yourself and your partner, the dram-
seller, you can console yourself with pious
reflections on the mysterious ways of Prov-
idence.

On Picket Duty. 143

Chapter XIIL

AT this time pickets were only changed
every third day, "three-day picket," we
called it. We preferred this, as it gave us
such a long time without any duty of this
kind, that the change was welcome. We
were almost two months in this camp, and
during this time I was only on picket twice.
There was no enemy in our immediate front.
The days passed as tranquilly and as free from
danger as if war had never been. Now and
then you could hear a boom of cannon far to
the right; but if you wanted to see a rebel,
you had to travel four or five miles to get a
glimpse of one.

The second time I was on picket, the
weather was extremely cold. The first day
we were placed on reserve, at a substantial
rifle pit, about fifty yards back of the regular
picket line. During the night, for some rea-
son, we had orders to strengthen the line. I
Avas sent to the extreme right of our brigade
line, where we joined with pickets of German

144 In the Ranks.

troops. The posts were about a hundred
yards apart, at each post a strong rifle-pit.
The fires were built at the right or left of the
rifle-pit, and carefully screened with bushes, so
that those about them could not be seen from
the outside. Our line here was in woods,
and the timber was cut down between the
posts. In front of the posts, videttes were
placed during the night, who were relieved
every two hours. The men at this post were
from a Delaware regiment, and all strangers
to me.

It was very cold work, standing vidette
two hours at a time ; in fact, my toes were
slightly frosted the first night. We discussed
the question, and concluded we could relieve
matters a little. We arranged with the men
on the post at our left to put out but one
man from the two posts. By alternating, we
would only be on post one-half as long. The
officer in charge of the line would come from
the left, and it was arranged that the other
post would signal us when he approached,
and one of us would go out. In this way we
always had a man out from each post when
he inquired into matters. This was rather an
irresponsible way of running the Army of the

An Alarm. 145

Potomac, but it seemed to us an improve-
ment.

An incident occurred the second night,
which convinced us that our plan was open to
objection. The men were all sleeping around
the fire, except one, a nervous fellow, of
whose qualities I had not a high opinion. I
must have been sleeping but lightly. Sud-
denly I was aroused by a noise outside the
screen, to the right, as if some one had been
passing stealthily along and tripped, falling
headlong. I was instantly on my feet, and
telling the men to scatter out and see what
was the matter, I hastened out toward the
right, followed only by the nervous man. We
searched the ground carefully as far as the pit
on our right. With our bayonets we thrust
among the brush, and examined every dark
corner, without any result. We returned, to
find part of the men still at the fire, and the
rest behind the rifle-pit outside. A similar
search toward the left was equally fruitless.
We never were able to explain the thing sat-
isfactorily, but concluded to keep out our
videttes.

After the Hatcher's Run campaign, I saw

one of these men in rather unfavorable cir-
10

146 In the Ranks.

cumstances. We had been in camp a few
days, and were engaged in building our tents,
when we heard the sound of a fife and drum
approaching. As they drew near, we saw a
corporal and a file of men, and in their midst
one of the heroes of the picket adventure,
who had shivered over the fire that night,
when he should have been out looking for the
supposed intruder. Aross his back was hung
a board, about three feet long by one in
breadth, on which was inscribed, in large
letters :

The musicians were playing * ' Rogues*

March," to which the soldiers had adapted

the following touching lines :

"Poor old soldier,
Poor old soldier,

Bucked and gagged and sent to ,

Because he would n't soldier."

The Old Gray.

147

Chapter XIV.

THE morning of February 5th found our
camp in a bustle of preparation. We
had orders to march, leaving our tents ''in
statu quo,'' taking only overcoats, arms, and
haversacks. General Warren was mounted
on his old gray horse. This we regarded as
a sure sign that a fight was on the programme.
The column headed toward the left. Then we
knew that Warren had done well to mount
the old gray. A tender spot of the Confed-
eracy lay in that direction. The " Southside
Railroad " was the main artery that carried
life-blood to the rebel army, and was guarded
with jealous care.

The morning was bright, crisp, and frosty.
The men were in excellent spirits. We had
with us a number of waggish fellows that
would be the life of any company, jovial,
hearty, able to bring forth a joke under the
most forbidding circumstances. One of these
(Smith let us call him) had served eight years
in the regular army before the rebellion, and

148 In the Ranks.

had been in the volunteer service during the
entire war. He was a sturdy, big-hearted
fellow, now becoming somewhat gray with
years. His favorite word was "VVoo-haw, "
Avhich he pressed into service quite frequently.
From this we called him "Old Woohaw."

Some time in the forenoon we found the
enemy intrenched at Rowanty Creek, just be-
low the junction of Gravelly Run and Hatch-
er's Run, From a slight ridge about three
hundred yards back, open ground sloped down
to the run, where there were a few small trees
on the bank, which sloped abruptly to the
water. The stream was perhaps fifteen feet
wide. On the other side the ground rose
again as abruptly as on the side next to us ;
and on the bank were the rebel rifle-pits, this
side of the stream being also covered with
woods. It was not more than twenty-five or
thirty yards from the side of the stream on
which we were approaching to the pits beyond.
At this time I was armed with a Spring-
field rifle, muzzle-loader, while the rest had
the Spencer. I never professed to have a
natural appetite for cold lead, broken bones,
etc., and very much disliked to go into a
skirmish with a "long Tom." However,

Deploy. 149

there was no help for it. The sharp crack
of carbines showed that the cavahy had met
with stubborn resistance. At the first halt
after we heard firing, I loaded her up and
was ready.

As the head of the regiment reached the
ridge, we halted. The cavalry were keeping
up a lively fire just ahead and on the right,
and there was every prospect of an interesting
time. Very soon we were ordered forward to
skirmish. As the order was received, Smith
remarked, with a peculiar twang to his heavy
voice and an odd twist of his head :

' ' Now, boys, the woo-hawin' is a-goin' to
begin."

We followed the road over the ridge, and
filed to the right on a farm-road which led in
this direction. As we filed right Colonel Pat-
tee's voice rang out :

"Deploy, skirmishers!"

We came around the corner on a run, and
as the order was given the men faced toward
the enemy, and advanced as they deployed.
Before the rear of the regiment had left the
main road, the rest Avere charging down
through the open field. They looked like a
mob as they broke ranks and went pell-mell

ISO In the Ranks.

over the field, yelling like madmen. But
there was method in their disorder, and before
they had passed over half the distance they
were in as good position as if they had gone
about it in the most formal manner. It was
a reckless movement ; but the officers were
not responsible for it, as no order was given
except to deploy.

Reaching the stream, we found it covered
with ice, on which we hoped to cross. One
of the foremost boys stepped upon it, and it
at once gave way, and let him into the water.
Just the top of his head stuck out above the
fragments of ice. He was fished out as ex-
peditiously as possible, and the idea of cross-
ing in that way was abandoned. Men came
down with axes, and proceeded to fell trees
across the run on which to cross. While this
was going on, we did our best to keep the reb-
els down behind their works, and render their
fire ineffectual. We soon succeeded in this,
but not until they had inflicted some loss.
Sullivan was standing a little below me, when
a bullet clipped by his left hip, cutting his
pants about three inches, but doing no harm.
A ball touched my hand as I was capping
my gun. Others struck close around. Soon

Close Range. 151

the trees were down, and part of the men
crossed, while others kept careful watch on
the rebels, and fired rapidly to keep them
down. When enough had crossed, perhaps
forty or fifty, then every body yelled, and
those who had crossed charged the pits, and
the rest came crowding over. Some of the
rebels surrendered, and a few escaped. As
the final charge was made, the line of ba^:tle
came down, reaching the run just in time to
lose some men. There may have been some
reason unknown to us for bringing them
down ; but as far as we could see, it was a
mistake. Our loss was fifteen wounded and
one or two killed.

The losses of a regiment do not always
show its courage nor its effectiveness as a
military organization, but rather its lack of
discipline, and unskillful handling. The One
Hundred and Ninetieth was compoised of well-
trained, veteran soldiers, and had good officers.
This fight shows how such a regiment may
incur serious disaster without room for just
reflection on the skill, courage, or discipline
of men or officers. Had a much stronger
force been behind those works, situated as
they were, our heedless charge would have

152 In the Ranks.

resulted in a bloody repulse, unless speedily
supported by a charge from the line of battle,
which would have involved heavy loss.

The road which we had followed is called
the stage-road. Crossing the run, we followed
it in the direction of Dinwiddie Court House,
until we reached the Quaker road. The en-
emy was not encountered in our front, but
farther to the right there was severe fighting
along Hatcher's Run. During the night we
moved to a position near Dabney's Mill. I
think we followed the Vaughan road. In
crossing Gravelly Run, there was some delay
in getting the column over. After we had
reached the other side, and were waiting for
the others, a colonel offended one of the men
of Company A, ordering him away from a
fire by which the colonel was standing. This
called forth some of the liveliest sort of vi-
tuperation. Such combinations of opprobri-
ous epithets are rarely exhibited. That man's
relatives, near and remote, male and female,
were brought into requisition to define the
exquisite meanness of his nature and origin.
The discomfited nabob appealed to Colonel
Pattee for redress, who sent Adjutant Wright
back to quiet the boys.

Dunn's Shoe. 153

During the day we moved out from our
position near the run, into the woods in front,
and formed line of battle. The One Hun-
dred and Ninetieth was in the line. The day
was dismal. Rain and snow had fallen during
the preceding night, and now it was growing
colder. Our line advanced over ground partly
swampy. In maneuvering to pass one of these
difficult places, the Two Hundred and Tenth
Pennsylvania was massed behind us, and came
crowding close after. Some of the men
would break through the crust of ice, and
sink into the mud beneath. Among others,
George Dunn, notwithstanding the size of his
feet, went plunging in, half-way to his knee.
When the foot was withdrawn, it was found
that the shoe had been left in the depths be-
low. George hesitated, thinking, perhaps, to
attempt a rescue ; but it was too late. The
Two Hundred and Tenth, coming on in close
divisions, trampled it down beyond all hope
of recovery. Advancing some distance, the
line halted. The formation of the Second
Division must have been imperfect, on ac-
count of the nature of the ground. This
probably caused the delay.

On the right a severe engagement was in

154 In the Ranks.

progress, and in front was some skirmishing.
The men, as usual with them when placed in
line of battle, were uneasy and dissatisfied.
Soon they began to go out, one at a time,
then by twos and threes, toward the front.
No objection was made by the officers, until
the line began to grow thin. A little later, part
of the line became engaged; but, as the right
of the corps had been checked, we were soon
withdrawn, and took a position not far from
the run, where we intrenched and held the
ground. Here we were on the left, where
our line rested on the run. We were consid-
erably annoyed by shells, which came nearly
from our rear. Our pits faced down the run,
and afforded no protection from shells coming
from the enemy's position at our right.

On the morning of the 8th we had orders
to "fall in," and soon we were in line, ready
to move. Passing to the right a short dis-
tance, we halted, at a gap in the rifle-pits,
where a road led out to the front; I think it
was the Vaughan Road. Soon an aid rode
up to Colonel Pattee with orders. Some one
inquired, of those standing nearest the colonel,
what the orders were. One of them replied,
with the utmost seriousness :

Orders. 155

"The orders are for the One Hundred and

Ninetieth to report in in less than ten

minutes."

We passed out on this road some distance,
and then bore to the right, over ground strewn
with dead horses, that had been killed during
the cavalry fighting of the preceding days.
After advancing about a mile, we halted in
open ground, and formed line of battle. On
our right, and some distance in front, was
timber. We hastily intrenched, for this pur-
pose tearing down a house. We judged that
the enemy would not let us remain long un-
disturbed; nor were we mistaken. Through
the still, frosty air we heard the sound of
preparation. We could hear the officers giv-
ing orders, and the snapping of caps as they
prepared to load. Their line of battle ex-
tended far past our left, and a line was evi-
dently preparing to come down on our right
flank. We threw up pits on each flank,
and waited, uncertain of the result. We
knew of no arrangement to prevent our
being overwhelmed by numbers. This sus-
pense continued for some time, and we ex-
pected every moment that the vengeful storm
would burst upon us. But now an aid was

156 In the Ranks.

seen galloping toward us, and we were ordered
to withdraw from our exposed position. We
lost no time in regaining the works we had
left in the morning. What this little side
show was for, we could not imagine. Per-
haps it was a misunderstanding.

The same day we recrossed Hatcher's Run,
and began the construction of permanent works
on that side. We worked by reliefs, three
hours on duty and three off. We had run
out of provisions, and a fresh supply failed to
arrive. The men became dissatisfied, and
finally refused to work. Threats of compell-
ing them to work were made. The men an-
swered by gathering up their guns and start-
ing for the woods, in the rear. At this point
General Warren came down and spoke to the
men in a reasonable manner. The mere fact
of his coming among them had a good effect
on the men. He urged the necessity of the
work, and told them that if provisions were
not on hand by a given time, he would con-
sent to their ceasing from work. The men then
went to work cheerfully.

Jack M'Bride and myself had previously
solved, in a measure, the difficult problem of
reconciling the conflicting claims of an empty

Camp. 157

stomach and the vigorous prosecution of the
war. As night came on, we retired some dis-
tance into the woods, built a fire, and made
ourselves comfortable. The next morning we
found a piece of pork, which had been lost
or thrown away three or four days before.
It was good. We scraped the mud from it
carefully, and ate it with a relish. We then
came back and went to work with the rest.

After these works had been completed,
we moved some distance down Hatcher's
Run, to a small branch of that stream, called
Arthur's Creek. Our position was on the left
flank of the army, facing rather toward the rear.
For the third time this winter we built winter-
quarters. Our camp was pleasantly located,
fronting a large farm, in the rear woods.
Brigade and division headquarters were in
the woods, our picket-line in the open ground
beyond the farm-house, a mile from camp.

On the 7th of February, the next day after
the fight near Dabney's Mill, I got a Spencer
rifle, and kept it until we were mustered out.
The spiral spring of the magazine was dam-
aged in some way, so that it would receive
only four or five cartridges, instead of seven.
I repaired it by taking the spring out entirely.

158 In the Ranks.

It would then receive nine or ten, and a little
practice made the experiment a success.

Duty was light, and our main business was
amusing ourselves. For in-door amusement,
euchre was the favorite. There was not much
gambling, but many fine points were settled
by "best three out of five." One form of
out-door amusement was the following : A
peg was driven into the ground, and to this
were fastened two ropes, fifteen or twenty
feet long. Two men were then blindfolded,
and placed one at the end of each rope, on
opposite sides of the peg. To one was given
a notched stick, about two feet long ; and also
another, to rub over it, making a scraping
sound. He was called the "scraper." To
the other was given a pant-leg, or something
of this kind, stuffed with paper or rags. He
was called the "pounder," and it was his
business to " pound " the scraper, if he could.
They were each required to keep hold of his
rope. The boys would sometimes stand
around a circle of this kind by the hour, and
watch the fun. The two would move about
with catlike caution, each listening for the
other. Sometimes the pounder would think
he had the other, sure ; and, listening most

Revival. 159

earnestly, anticipated triumph shining from his
face, he would bring his weapon down on
nothing. Again, the scraper, thinking the
pounder, who was right beside him, was far
away, would rest the end of his notched stick
on the ground, and draw the other along it,
"scrape-scrape," when down would come the
pant-leg on his head, followed by shouts of
laughter from the audience.

The soldiers built a large tent for religious
meetings, and a revival of extraordinary inter-
est took place during our stay here. The
noble Christian young men who did this work
remember those meetings with satisfaction
now, whether they are on earth or in heaven.
They conducted them without the aid of a
minister. No ! they themselves were minis-
ters of God, anointed from on high for this
work.

Some of the conversions were remarkable.
One young man, whom I had known as a
brave, fearless fellow, was converted during
a meeting of peculiar power. The change
was plain and evident to all. His handsome
face was continually bright with the peace of
God. He fell in battle, March 31st, and died
in the arms of his comrades, who were trying

i6o In the Ranks.

to carry him back when our Hue was broken
and routed.

As Spring drew near came the reviews and
various movements that indicate the approach
of active operations. Some changes were
made in the brigade. It now consisted of the
fragments ofi> three Pennsylvania regiments,
the One Hundred and Ninetieth, One Hun-
dred and Ninety-first, and One Hundred and
Fifty-seventh ; two Delaware regiments, now
consolidated into one, and the Two Hundred
and Tenth Pennsylvania. The latter was a
one-year regiment, and almost as large as the
rest of the brigade. They were a fine body
of men, reliable and well-drilled. There were
but five commissioned officers in the One
Hundred and Ninetieth. Colonel Pattee and
Adjutant Wright, Captain Birkman, Lieuten-
ants Coleman and Peacock. Captain Birkman
had charge of Companies A, B, and C. The
One Hundred and Ninetieth and One Hundred
and Ninety-first acted together as one regi-
ment, under command of Colonel Pattee.
The fragment of the One Hundred and Fift}--
seventh — not more than forty or fifty men —
was regarded as a part of the One Hundred
and Ninety-first.

Reorganization. i6i

We held this little band in high esteem.
They were heroes, every man of them.
Captain Carter was in command. We were
the Third Brigade, Second Division, Fifth
Corps.

II

1 62 In the Ranks.

Chapter XV.

THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

ON the morning of March 25th, I know
not why, our camp was astir earlier
than usual. Heavy cannonading could be
heard toward the right, but this was nothing
uncommon. As time passed on, the noise of
strife continued, and seemed to extend farther
toward the left. Eating a hasty breakfast, I
started toward the scene of action, determined
to ascertain the cause of the unusual uproar.
When starting from camp, I did not suppose
it was any thing more serious than an artillery
fight of more than ordinary interest. As I
went on the sound swelled to a steady roar,
which showed that a determined battle was in
progress. Drawing nearer, I saw the troops
in line of battle, the shells bursting, and
cannon flaming as far as the eye could
reach.

I was informed that Fort Steadman had
been taken, and a part of our works captured
by the enemy. Supposing that we would be

The President. 163

ordered to the right to retrieve the disaster, I
started to return to camp. I had not pro-
ceeded far when I saw the head of the col-
umn approaching. I hurried back to camp
and procured my gun and accouterments and
started to overtake the troops. I was joined
by Lewis, who had also been absent. Only
the pickets and ordinary camp guard re-
mained. As we passed along we met Presi-
dent Lincoln, General Meade, and staff, com-
ing toward the left. We concluded to greet
them with due ceremony. As we met them
we halted on the bank by the road and pre-
sented arms. The President raised his hat,
and turned to General Meade with some hu-
morous remark as they rode on. It seemed
a reversal of things for the head of the
nation to pass in review before a couple of
stragglers.

We found the Second and Third Divisions
drawn up in the rear of the works as sup-
port, awaiting events. A large number of
prisoners passed to the rear while we waited
here. Farther to the left, the First Division
advanced on the enemy's works, and was
repulsed with considerable loss, but succeeded
in establishing our lines nearer to those of

i64 In the Ranks.

the enemy. We were not engaged, and re-
turned to our quarters in the evening.

The next morning I started early to visit
an acquaintance belonging to the One Hun-
dred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania, First Divi-
sion. It was not yet sunrise when I reached
their camp. The acquaintance whom I had
come to visit was on picket, and I went out
along the line to find him. The pickets were
stationed in woods, and the men were
engaged in building or strengthening their
intrenchments. Passing along the line, I no-
ticed that the men kept close to the pits. I
inquired if things were woolly out there, and
was informed that the latitude was decidedly
unhealthy.

I now noticed a Yankee vidette about
twenty-five yards in front, rifle in hand, stick-
ing close to a tree, and scarcely fifty yards
farther on, a rebel vidette peered cautiously
past another tree. The vigilance with which
they watched each other revealed both the
danger and security of the situation. If all were
watching each other as jealously as these, I
could continue my observations with compara-
tive safety. A little farther toward the left
I reached open ground. Arrangements had

Death. 165

been made, under flag of truce, for burying
our dead who had fallen in the battle of the
previous day. Quite a number of dead lay
scattered over the field, some of them close
up to the rebel works. They were carried
back within our own lines and buried there.
They were carried on blankets, one man tak-
ing hold of each corner, and thus bearing
them along.

Four men thus engaged, halted with their
burden to rest as they were passing near me.
In the blanket lay a boy, certainly not more
than eighteen or nineteen years old. At first
glance you could scarcely believe that he was
dead. Surely the grim King could not stamp
upon dying clay a smile so pleasant, a laugh
so winning, as shone out from those parted
Hps and half-closed eyes ! But just over his
heart, half-concealed by his arm, that bloody
rent in his blouse showed how^ he died.

" Somebody's darling is cold and dead."

I looked upon that handsome, boyish face
with wonder. The smile was so happy and so
life-like that the first impression was only that
of light and careless mirth ; but the lines
curved away into an expression of solemn

i66 In the Ranks.

majesty, is if the passing spirit, thrilled with
the full perception of the grandeur of its own
immortality, had left this impress on the ten-
ement of clay.

On the way back to camp, evidences were
everywhere visible that the final act of the
great national tragedy would quickly come on.
That afternoon I made ready for active oper-
ations by purchasing from the ''commissary"
a couple of pounds of extra coffee. The reg-
ulation quantity was sufficient while in camp ;
but after a hard day's march there was a
strong inclination to throw an extra handful
into the old coffee-pot. As a result, the inex-
perienced frequently found themselves short
after a few days, to their discomfort and actual
disadvantage.

Forward, March. 167

Chapter XVI.

THE next morning, March 27th, I went on
picket. Some time after midnight, on
the 28th, we were withdrawn, and returned to
camp. Orders had come to prepare for the
march. The camp was astir with busy Hfe.
In a httle while our tents, that looked so neat
and trim last evening, with their white canvas
roofs and dean-swept streets, will be silent,
cheerless, and deserted. My tent-mates had
taken downi our shelter-tents, and I had noth-
ing to do but pack my knapsack, and all w^as
ready.

In some of the dismantled tents the fires
still burned, casting their flickering rays up-
ward through the air, w^hile about them, sit-
ting or lounging at ease, were men equipped
for the stern work of war, ready to fall into
line at the word of command. The stirring
scene had in it not a little of sadness. We
had passed pleasant hours in this camp. That
tender something of association which cHngs
around the thought of " the old camp-

i68 In the Ranks.

ground " breathed through the darkness that

night, and glanced in the camp-fires that

dimly lighted up the warlike scene. These

would be our last Winter-quarters. For some,

the next night would bring the quiet * * bivouac

of the dead."

The strength of the Fifth Corps was as

follows :

First Division, General Griffin, . . . .6,180
Second Division, General Ayer, . . 3,980
Third Division, General Crawford, . . 5,250

Total, 15,410

The artillery consisted of twenty guns, and
there was an escort of forty cavalry.

The march began at three o'clock on the
morning of the 29th, the Second Division in
the advance. We passed down what was
called the stage-road toward Rowanty Creek,
the same road on which we had marched
February 5th, at the time of the Hatcher's
Run fighting. We reached the vicinity of the
creek a little after daybreak, and formed line
of battle in the open ground south-east of the
residence of W. Perkins. Much to our dis-
satisfaction the One Hundred and Ninetieth
was placed in the line, and the Two Hundred
and Tenth was deployed as skirmishers. They

Quaker Road. 169

did not advance till the line was formed, and
then not far enough ahead of us to be of any
use. Fortunately no enemy was found ; but
time might have been saved by a prompt ad-
vance of the skirmishers without waiting for
the line.

Crossing Rowanty without opposition, we
followed the stage-road to its junction with
the Quaker road. Up this we marched toward
Gravelly Run. The First Division, however,
followed the stage-road some distance farther.
How far we advanced up the Quaker road I
am unable to say ; but we finally turned to
the left, and formed line of battle, facing the
west. In our front was quite an expanse of
open ground sloping down toward woods be-
yond. About a hundred yards to our left
was a battery, ready for action. The Two
Hundred and Tenth was again sent forward to
skirmish. They advanced with due form and
ceremony until they neared the woods, when
they opened fire with such a racket that we
supposed the enemy had been found in force.
But they soon let up, and presently sent back
a solitary prisoner, about as forlorn, dilapi-
dated looking a specimen of grayback as could
be imagined.

I/O In the Ranks.

While we were waiting, John Edgar went
down to the battery, in which he had served
for a considerable time, detached from his com-
pany for this purpose; but he had left it and
rejoined his company without being returned
in due form. He was at once placed under
arrest as a deserter by the officer in command,
the man whose brutal treatmeiit had caused
Edgar's unauthorized return to the regiment.
This made quite a commotion, and might
have produced serious trouble ; but as soon as
Colonel Pattee learned what had occurred, he
went down to the battery, and demanded and
secured Edgar's release without delay.

After remaining here some time, we moved
farther toward the left. Here the One Hun-
dred and Ninetieth deployed as skirmishers,
and advanced into the woods, facing the
south-west. We remained in this position
during the night. Meantime the First Divis-
ion had passed up the Quaker road. At an
old sawmill about half a mile from the Boyd-
ton plank-road they encountered the enemy
at four in the evening. A brief but terrific
conflict ensued, in which the enemy was driven
back to the junction of the two roads. We
knew from the rapid discharges of artillery

The Plank-road. 171

and the heavy volleys of musketry that the
great struggle had begun. The First Divis-
ion lost 367 killed and wounded, while the
loss of the enemy was heavier.

At dark on the 29th rain began to fall,
and continued during the night and the fol-
lowing day, making the roads almost impass-
able. On the morning of the 30th we left the
position held during the previous night, and
moved up the Quaker road. Near the sawmill
we turned to the left, and crossed the Boyd ton
plank-road near Mrs. Butler's. In the field there
were dark patches of blood on the ground, here
and there, which the rain had not yet washed
out. Guns that had dropped from the hands
of wounded or slain, knapsacks, haversacks,
accouterments stripped from mangled men ere
they were borne from the field, lay scattered
on the ground over which we passed.

Near the plank -road, we deployed, and
advanced across a branch of Gravelly Run.
The right of the regiment rested in open
ground, near a negro's house, and the left
extended into the woods in a north-west direc-
tion. I think the division formed on our left,
facing the Whiteoak Road ; and we held a
gap in our lines, between the Second Corps

1/2 In The Ranks.

and our own. Companies A, B, and C were
on the right, in the open ground.

In advancing to this point, we were under
a sharp fire, to which we did not respond, but
liastened to throw up pits. On the left of
the regiment the firing was Hvely, as the men
in the woods did not need to be in such haste
entrenching. We were ordered to "rally by
fours," and each group threw up a sepa-
rate pit.

I was in the group with Mike Coleman,
and had a chance to notice one of his pecul-
iarities. As we advanced to this position, he
seemed to be dazed, and almost unconscious
of his surroundings. When we halted to en-
trench, with my most vigorous exhortations I
could not arouse him to any interest or exer-
tion. We had no shovel, and must make a
pit with rails and stones, which we could
gather up in front. I would urge him to
carry stones and put them in place. He
would perhaps pick up a couple, very leisurely,
and lay them on the ground, back of the pit,
and then stand with his hands in his pockets.
The bullets would whistle around, or strike
the ground near him, and he would look about
as if he did not understand wliat it all meant.

Picket- PITS. 173

Yet in battle, he was always cool, brave, and
daring.

In a little while we had a pit, capable of
stopping a rifle ball, and considered ourselves
ready for any ordinary emergency. During
the day, the rebels attacked the line on our
right, and were repulsed, after a sharp fight,
with considerable loss. They also advanced
in our front, and opened fire on us ; but only
as accessory to the more determined move-
ment on our right. The left of the regiment
returned the fire; but we could not see the
enemy, and there seemed no reason to justify
a random fire.

There was a man in Company C who was
usually troubled with a deficiency in his knees
at such times. Though sufficiently warlike
and lion-hearted by nature, no doubt, yet his
legs were his undoing. They worked very
well, when steered for the rear, but otherwise
they were a failure. When the firing began
on the right, he took his position behind the
pit with an air of great determination. Point-
ing his gun— a Springfield rifle— toward the
enemy, he sat crouching low, and looking in-
tendy toward the brush in front. The boys
were sitting or standing around, dividing their

174 In the Ranks.

attention between the skirmish, partly visible

through the trees, and R , whose warlike

attitude and evident terror called forth good-
natured raillery.

" Steady on the left, R !"

"Cut her loose, R !"

"Give 'em , R !"

•Such were a few of the cheering exhorta-
tions which greeted that redou table warrior.
To all these he paid no heed. I suppose, in
spite of his fears, a few shells, a sharp volley,
or even a charge from the enemy, would have
given him profound satisfaction — if unharmed
himself — as a vindication of his prudent vigi-
lance. Nothing of the kind occurred, and
soon things resumed their former compara-
tive quiet.

There was not much done during the day,
except to get troops in position and prepare
for the struggle of the morrow. There was
some skirmishing, but our losses were not
heavy — less than two hundred in the two
corps, the Fifth and Second.

As night approached, a vidette was placed
in front of each pit, near the edge of the
woods, which was about forty yards in ad-
vance. It was not yet dark when the first

Night. 175

man was posted here, and fire was at once
opened on him, by invisible marksmen in the
woods.

At first the bullets went whistling over,
but soon they came lower, and began to
strike the fence by which he was standing, —
right, left, close, — with a savage snap. Up
to this time our vidette stood it with seem-
ing indifference; but, as the splinters began
to fly from the fence, his indifference gave
place to a lively interest, which called forth
the laughter of the sympathizing spectators.
He threw down his gun, and hastily piled rails
together for a protection, and took refuge be-
hind them.

Night came on, dark and gloomy, the rain
continued to fall, and the soldiers lay down
on the water-soaked earth to take what rest
they could. I made a comfortable bed, by
leaning two rails against the rifle-pit. On
these I bestowed myself, and drew over me
my rubber blanket. My knapsack was placed
under my bed, to protect it from the rain.
My haversack served for a pillow, and, with
my cartridge box, which had not been re-
moved since the morning of the 27th, still
strapped around me, and my rifle in my hands,

176 In the Ranks.

I sank to sleep, the rain pattering on the
blanket Over my head.

About four o'clock, Sergeant Hasler woke
me up to go on vidette post. I arose and
followed him in the deep darkness. Reaching
the man whom I was to relieve, instructions
were given in a whisper, and in a moment I
was alone.

This was the last watch of the night,
and if a surprise was contemplated by the
enemy, the attempt would be made during
these two hours. The rebel pickets were
close at hand, and occasional sounds and
voices had been heard by my predecessor.
The rain dripped monotonously from the trees,
and now and then a breath of wind moaned
drearily through their branches. The ear alone
could detect approaching danger; and thus,
with rifle in hand, I listened, jealously noting
every sound.

Time passed on, and at length the almost
painful darkness began to disperse. Objects
very near could be indistinctly discerned.
What if all those weary men back there
should sleep till clearer light should made me
a mark for the unseen foe, that did such good
shooting last evening? Why were not the

A Watch in the Night. 177

videttes, at least, advanced into the under-
brush, instead of being posted at its edge, to
be shot at by rebel sharpshooters ? Thoughts
like these were running through my mind as
dayhght approached. But all anxiety was
allayed before long, by the sergeant calling
me to come in.

12

178 In the Ranks.

Chapter XVII.

WE made a hasty breakfast, and then the
waiting of the preceding day con-
tinued. Every rifle stood loaded where it
could be grasped in a moment. As time"
passed on, there was an evident uneasiness on
the left. About ten o'clock, the occasional
picket firing increased to the sharper rattle of
skirmishing, and then deepened to the roar of
battle, as the sound of continuous volleys
rolled through the woods, mingled with the
bellow of cannon and the hiss of shells.
Every man now stood with rifle in hand,
ready for the decisive moment which had evi-
dently come. Above the noise of musketry
and cannon we could sometimes hear the
well-known rebel yell, and knew that they
were charging with all their force. Now the
horrid uproar could be heard moving back-
w^ard toward the run. But now orders have
come. Word is immediately sent along the
line to assemble on the right. The Sixteenth

Gravelly Run. 179

Maine will relieve us. Colonel Pattee mounts
his horse.

"Fall in!"

"Right face!"

"Forward, double quick, march!"

We plunge into the woods, following the
road toward the left. Shells crash through
the trees, and bullets patter around like hail.
The left of the division w^as flanked and hope-
lessly turned. The right was stubbornly re-
sisting, but giving way before the overpow-
ering force that was crowding down upon it.
We halted and faced the front, advancing a
short distance from the road toward the fight-
ing. Wounded men were limping past. We
could see the smoke through the trees, and
the men slowly yielding, fighting as they
came.

Colonel Pattee gave an order, but we
could not hear a word. We all knew what
it ought to be, and instantly deployed. The
line, broken and shattered, went back past us,
and we met the enemy with the rapid fire of
our repeating rifles. We brought them, to a
stand in our front. If fresh troops could have
been thrown in on our left, the disaster could
have been retrieved at this point, and the

i8o In the Ranks.

rebel charge hurled back ; but our flanks were
exposed, and we were many times outnum-
bered, and in danger of being surrounded.
There Avas nothing left but to get out of that
the best we could.

Colonel Pattee rode to and fro along the
line, mounted on his bay horse, encouraging
and directing his men, steadying and inspiring
them by word and example. Under a less
devoted commander we would have been cap-
tured or driven ingloriously from the field.
Before we reached the edge of the woods,
the enemy had inclosed us in the form of a
V, and were pouring their fire upon us from
the front and both flanks. We brought out
most of our wounded, but some had to be
abandoned. Except these, not a man was
taken prisoner. Reaching the edge of the
woods, I knew that no stand could be made
before crossing the branch of Gravelly Run.
I "stood not upon the order of my going,"
but went at once, and at a lively pace. Col-
onel Pattee was the last man to leave the
woods. He came down across the narrow
field, crouching close to the neck of his horse,
which was reeling and staggering from wounds
out of which his life-blood gushed at every

Battle. i8i

plunge. Leaping from the back of his dying
steed, he rallied his men on foot.

The trees on the side of the ridge which
sloped down to the stream opposite the open
ground in which we had intrenched on the
30th, afforded excellent cover. Here most of
the One Hundred and Ninetieth, and some
from other regiments, rallied and faced the
enemy. We were not much more than a
heavy skirmish line ; but the tide must be
stayed here, at any cost. The rebel lines
came surging on, elated with victory ; but
before our steady fire they wavered and came
to a halt. Thus, with scarcely the space of
a hundred yards between us, we stood and
poured at each other showers of deadly mis-
siles. Rebel shells from somewhere on our
right were grinding through the trees and
bursting all around, while the fire from their
infantry was beating on pur thin line with
terrible effect. A man close beside me was
struck through the face with a rifle ball, and
walked back toward the rear, pale and bleeding.
Casting my eyes toward the left, I saw our
color-bearer holding the flag, his face deadly
pale. Brave old Woo-haw had just been
struck down by his side and carried to the

1 82 In the Ranks.

rear. Mike Coleman was in his glory. Mil-
ler's face wore its accustomed smile as with
grave deliberation he loaded and fired.

But this state of things could not long con-
tinue, and the most hopeful were growing
anxious. A few hundred were fighting the
force that had driven a division. But just
now on the ridge behind us, a battery wheeled
into position, and sent charge after charge of
grape and canister whizzing across into the
enemy's ranks. Still they did not give way,
and the battle raged more fiercely than ever.
I had fired not less than eighty rounds, and
only a few cartridges remained. Others had
nearly exhausted their ammunition. At this
point, to our great joy, we saw a line of battle
advancing to our support. Steadily, quietly,
they came on, their battle-flags gleaming
through the trees, moving as orderly as if on
dress-parade. As they neared us they quick-
ened their pace, and charged forward with a
tremendous cheer. It was a grand sight as
they swept on, every eye fixed on the smok-
ing timber beyond. But the little stream
threw them into disorder, and they went rush-
ing over the field without Avaiting to re-form.
As they went over the rising ground which

Forward 183

lay between them and the enemy, they re-
ceived a terrible volley. Half their number
seemed to go down before it. Back they
rolled in confusion, leaving the ground strewn
with their dead and wounded. They came
back to the narrow flat by the run. There,
as by one impulse, they rallied and proceeded
to reform their lines. Not a man shirked.
While they were forming, we opened fire
again, over and past them. This lasted but a
few minutes, and they were ready to advance.
Steadily, irresistibly, their line passed up the
slope, into the woods, driving every thing
before it.

Our ammunition wagons had now come
up, and we procured a fresh supply. We
immediately moved down the stream and
crossed, to drive back the enemy and retake
the ground lost at this point. Here the bank
on the other side was abrupt, rising thirty or
forty feet in a very short distance, when level
ground, partly open and partly wooded, ex-
tended toward the west and north. On this
steep bank we formed for the charge, three lines
of battle. The right of the regiment was de-
tached, and placed on the left of the lines of
battle to cover the flank. When the advance

t84 In the Ranks.

was made we deployed at skirmish distance,
at a right angle with the line, and moving in
the same direction. In this advance, which
Avas made about two in the afternoon, we that
were on the flank did not fire a shot. We
were not much exposed, though some bullets
whistled around.

We finally reached a farm-house in the
midst of a large plantation. Here we halted.
We found some of our wounded abandoned
by the enemy, who seemed to have disap-
peared from our front. . Perhaps the decisive
battle might have been fought on this after-
noon instead of the following day, by pushing
the Fifth Corps across the White Oak Road
on the right of the intrenched position of the
rebels. The course followed was probably
the safer one.

At first the house which we had reached
seemed to be deserted ; but a little later we
found the family, husband, wife, and daugh-
ter, concealed in a cave in the garden. The
man was a tall, gray-haired old gentleman, all
of them well dressed and evidently intelligent
and refined people. The old man was so
frightened that he could scarcely speak. They
seemed to expect brutal treatment from the

A Drawn Battle. 185

barbarians of the North, who, as it happened,
were quite their equals in culture and hu-
manity.

About five in the evening General Bart-
lett's brigade of the First Division was sent
across the country to threaten the flank of the
enemy, who had now pressed Sheridan back
to Dinwiddie Court-house. They marched
out past us toward the south-west, and disap-
peared from sight.

Darkness soon came on, and we prepared
to pass another night under arms. It had
been a hard day. We had lost eighteen hun-
dred men, and inflicted a loss of one thousand
on the enemy. Our losses fell chiefly on the
Second and Third Divisions. Since ten o'clock
the struggle had been almost continuous, and
night found the enemy foiled in his purpose
of driving us from our advanced position,
which we now held more firmly than ever ;
but this was all the gain for either side. Some
time after dark rations were distributed, and
we lay down to sleep.

All the accounts of this battle that have
come under my notice contain statements
which I am not able to explain, if they are
correct. It is generally stated that the corps

i86 In the Ranks.

advanced toward the White Oak road, the
Second Division in front, the Third next, and
the First in the rear ; that the Second Divis-
ion was driven back on the Third, both on
the First, and that all were forced back to or
beyond the Boydton road. From the preced-
ing narrative it will be seen that this was not
true of the right of the corps. When we
were compelled to fall back, in the forenoon,
we did not retreat more than three or four
hundred yards. The point at which we rallied
must have been fully half a mile from the
plank-road. If the rest of the corps did not
make a stand until they reached the plank-
road, it is rather surprising that a rebel force
was not thrown across the run on our left, by
which w^e would have been flanked and driven
away or captured. The run was a favorable
position for defense, while the vicinity of the
plank-road was not so good. Veteran soldiers
Hke those of the Fifth Corps would certainly
rally at the former point. It is probable that
some went back farther, while enough stopped
at the run to check the rebel advance. We
must have fought nearly three-quarters of an
hour before we were re-enforced. The troops
sent to our relief were from the Second Corps.

Joining Sheridan. 187

Chapter XVIII.

Pugriavimus ensibus.

We fought with our swords.

— Regner Lodbrog.

ABOUT midnight the Second Division was
ordered down the plank-road to join
Sheridan. Bartlett's brigade had proceeded as
far as Gravelly Run, reaching it at dark. They
found the stream swollen, the bridge gone,
and the enemy strongly posted on the other
side. The brigade was withdrawn during the
night. It was no easy task to move troops
under the circumstances. Orders had to go
from corps commander down through brigade,
regimental, and company officers to the pri-
vates, who had to be aroused from sleep and
got into ranks without noise.

Through the deep mud and intense dark-
ness we moved toward Dinwiddle Court-house.
The darkness was so deep that we could tell
nothing about localities. We must have
marched past the Court-house. We might
easily have passed the village without being

1 88 In the Ranks.

aware of it. We then about-faced and re-
traced our steps for some distance. There is
a road leads north from Dinwiddie toward
Five Forks. We may have taken this, or we
may have followed the plank-road a couple
of miles farther back to a road which leads
across to the one just mentioned. However
this may be, daylight found us confronting
the enemy somewhere in this vicinity. The
only force found was a picket or skirmish line,
which was easily driven away. The Second
Division massed near the residence of J. M.
Brooks, on the Five Forks road. Here we
remained from about 7 A. M. until 10 A. M.
Durinof this time the other two divisions ar-
rived, and took position a little north of us
on the same road. When we reached this
point the One Hundred and Ninetieth was
thrown forward in skirmish line.

Meantime, the rebels had retired to their
fortified position at Five Forks. Their works
extended more than a mile, east and west,
making a slight angle with the White Oak road,
turning northward about a half-mile east of
the Ford road. A heavy skirmish-line was
deployed in front of their left, and extend-
ing some distance eastward, and south- of

Five Forks. 189

the White Oak road. This force consisted of
fourteen hundred riflemen, reputed the best
in Lee's army. In this position they awaited
our attack.

About ten o'clock we began to move, tak-
ing the road leading past Gravelly Run Church.
At first there seemed to be some uncertainty
about the movements and position of the en-
emy; but it was soon evident that his entire
force was in our front. The column advanced
along the road, with frequent brief halts, which
indicated that we were nearing the foe. Ere-
long we could hear skirmishing, and an occa-
sional discharge of cannon. Ambulances
were passing, freighted with wounded cavalry-
men, and later, stretcher-bearers, with their
bloody burdens, met us, as we moved slowly
toward the front.

Near Gravelly Run Church, our line of
battle was formed. The Second Division was
on the left, the Third on the right, the First
in reserve, close behind the other two, a little
on the right of the center. The two divisions
in front were arranged as follows : Each di-
vision placed two brigades in front, in two
hnes each, and the remaining brigade in the
rear of the center, in two lines. In the Sec-

1 90 In The Ranks.

ond Division, the Maryland Brigade was on
the left, ours on the right, and Winthrop's in
reserve. The One Hundred and Ninety-first,
including the fragment of the One Hundred
and Fifty-seventh, and the Fourth Delaware,
were the first line of battle, under Colonel
Pattee. The One Hundred and Ninetieth was
ordered forward to skirmish. We deployed
in the woods, and waited for the completion
of the arrangements going on in our rear. A
few rods farther on there was open ground,
which, in our front, gradually sloped down to
woods. Opposite the left of the regiment, the
open ground extended farther toward the north
and west, and on that side was a slight hol-
low, with rough, broken ground beyond.
Rebel skirmishers were in the woods in our
front, now exchanging shots with cavalry in
the open ground near us. Our skirmish-line
was ready for business in a few minutes ; but
it was some time before the divisions were
formed, in readiness for the assault.

If you should attempt to form an idea of
that thin line of waiting men, who were to
lead the \vay in the decisive struggle, which
all knew was at hand, the mental picture would
probably differ widely from the reality. Cast

Waiting. 191

your eye to the left, along the line. You can
see a goodly distance. The wood is not very
dense. That does not look much like "battle's
magnificently stern array." There is nothing
magnificent or stern about it. You expected
something of a scene. There is nothing of
the sort. Instead, these men surprise )'ou by
their quiet bearing and seeming indifference.
Most of them are young men. A few days
ago they were so neat and tidy in dress and
appearance, yOu might almost mistake that
they were college students playing soldier.
Now they are dirty, smeared with mud, half
wet still from the rain, which only ceased this
morning. Some are seated, leaning against
the trees, taking it easy, conversing as pleas-
antly as if these were the ordinary occurrences
of life. That bright-faced fellow, of Company
E, is diligently polishing a little rusty spot,
which he has discovered on his gun barrel.
If there is time, he will scrape the mud from
his shoes, and from his pants, which are stiff
with it, almost to the knees. A few are nerv-
ous and anxious, but most of the really faint-
hearted took advantage of the hard march
last night to secure absence to-day. Dunn is
on hand, — he that took himself from the field

192 In the Ranks.

yesterday with such agility, at the beginning
of the fight, and gave such comical reasons
for his unceremonious flight, when he came
up in the evening. R is in the line, look-
ing black, silent, and still troubled in his
knees. Do these careless men realize that
they are about to decide the fate of a great
nation? Perhaps they are unconscious of the
greatness of the present hour; but what of
that ? They stood in their lot.

But our waiting is over at last ; and, at the
word of command, every soldier is in his
place. These men were not stolid, ignorant,
nor inexperienced. Their thinned ranks show
how well they know what battle means. You
can see some pale faces, and lips compressed,
as "forward" passes down the line. We
pass out of the woods into the open field.
A few rods ahead, some mounted cavalrymen
are firing toward the woods, which conceal
the enemy. We can see a puff of smoke
here and there among the trees. A little
farther, and the cavalry gallop away to the
right, and bullets begin to whistle past, some
over, some tossing up the dirt at our feet. It
would be a waste of powder to return the fire
at this distance; besides, we are going down

The Sublime. 193

there. But the bullets begin to come closer.
They are fairly hot as they hiss around us.
We quicken our pace. It is five hundred
A-ards to the woods. The men on our left
open fire — four hundred yards, three, the line
slackens a little, and a volley, and another,
and another, bursts in quick succession from
our Spencer rifles. Then a cheer, as we dash
for the woods at headlong speed, yelling and
firing as we go. The rebel skirmishers give
way before our charge, and the woods are
gained.

Up to this time I had not looked back. I
supposed we had advanced about a thousand
yards, and would soon encounter the main
force of the enemy. As we reached the
woods, I turned to see if the line of battle
was yet in sight. My eyes fell upon the
most stirring scene I ever witnessed. This
was the grandeur, the sublimity of war. The
corps was coming in order of battle, line after
line sweeping on with steady step. Their front
extended nearly a mile across the open ground,
guns at a right-shoulder, glittering in the sun-
light like silver, battle-flags fluttering in the
air. In front, the skirmishers were fighting
savagely; on the left a score of cannon were
13

194 l^N THE Ranks.

thundering, shells screaming out their horrid
warning, as they leaped from the smoking guns.
But this living avalanche swept on in stern
silence, as if there breathed within it a great
soul, which scorned to speak or strike but once.
A single glance took in the inspiring scene.
I gazed but a moment, and then hurried into
.the woods.

The ground here consisted of alternate
ridges and depressions, covered with trees
and bushes, with occasional open places. It
was hard ground to fight over, every ridge
serving as a rallying point, and affording a
superior position for defense. Our adv^ance
was now a succession of charges. When the
rebels were driven from one ridge, they rallied
at the next. A short distance from the edge
of the woods, where we first encountered
them, was a little brook, running nearly east;
along its banks were some large rocks, Avhile
a few rods nearer were piles of wood, logs,
and other means of shelter. Quite a large
group of rebels made a stand here. Sergeant
Hasler, Crocket, one or two others and my-
self, centered our attention on these, and ad-
vanced upon them, at first taking w^hat cover
we could among the trees, firing rapidly as we

Prisoners. 195

went. As we were pressing forward, my foot
tripped on something, aud I came to the
ground with stunning force. Crocket, who
was a few yards to my right, hurried toward
me, his face the very picture of anxious sym-
pathy, and inquired if I was struck. Recov-
ering my breath, in a moment I was on my
feet again, and assured him I was all right.

We now rushed on them with a cheer, and
they broke and fled. We were so close on
them, that seven of their number took refuge
behind a large rock, while three or four more
fled across the brook, leaving one of their
number wounded on its bank. The men be-
hind the rock now waved hats past it in token
of surrender, and soon they were marching
toward the rear in charge of Crocket. The
wounded rebel whom I had seen fall, lay
about a rod to the left, shot through the
thigh. I gave him a drink, filled my canteen,
and went on.

We had now become scattered, and made
our way onward without much regard to order
or concert of action. For a while the two
lines were mingled together in the under-
brush, so that you scarcely knew which way
to look for friend or foe. Sometimes I was

196 In the Ranks.

with others, and again entirely alone. The
woods resounded with the yells of the com-
batants and the crack of rifles, as the deadly
fight raged along the line.

Passing through the corner of an open
field, I noticed some rebels eight or ten hun-
dred yards to the left and front in such a po-
sition that I could give them a flank fire,
while just a short distance from me in the
field was a stone pile. The temptation was
too strong to be resisted. I repaired to the
stone pile and opened on them. At the first
shot they looked to see whence it came ; the
next, they dodged, and hugged close to their
rifle pit, and then discovering me, they re-
turned the fire. Their first shots went wild,
but they soon got the range, and began to
strike the stone pile. I gave them a few
parting shots from my Spencer, and went on
into the woods.

The skirmishing continued at close range,
as before. The rebels fought stubbornly from
point to point. Their works seemed farther
off than we expected, but the crisis must come
soon. We had just passed over a ridge, and
the rebels had made a stand among the tim-
ber beyond. A slight depression lay between

A Prisoner. 197

us, down which a gully had been washed by
the water. None of our men were in sight, .
but I could hear their firing in the brush,
right and left.

Wishing to gain the timber beyond the
gully, I started forward without waiting to
recharge my rifle, which I had just fired. The
trees which I wished to gain were not more
than forty feet away, and the gully about half
that distance. I had gone but a step or two
when a rebel soldier rose to his feet in the
gully, facing me, with rifle in hand. It was
a groundhog case. As he rose, I rushed at
him, aiming at his heart and calling on him to
surrender. He instantly dropped his gun.
It was all over in less time than it takes to
pen this sentence. His gun was foaded and
capped. We waited till the line of battle
came up. As they pushed through the brush
behind us, seeing a rebel soldier, a dozen
rifles were leveled on us ; but they saw how
it was in time to withhold their fire. Leav-
ing my prisoner with them, I started forward
again.

We soon reached an abrupt rise of ground
beyond which we could not advance. Before
us was the left of the enemy's intrenched po-

ipS In the Ranks.

sition. We had done our work. We had
driven every thing before us, and others must
face the storm now. Some kneehng, others
lying flat on the ground, we continued to fire
and waited for the hne of battle. In a few
minutes we could see them coming on through
the woods. A short distance behind us was
a small patch of swampy, boggy ground. As
this was approached orders were given and
executed as coolly as if on the parade ground.
The portion of the line opposite the swamp
folded back of the other toward the left, and
when the ground was passed, went back to
place again without th^ least delay or con-
fusion.

As they moved up the bank upon which
we were, a volley burst upon them before
which they wavered and swerved backward a
few paces, as here and there a man reeled
and staggered or sank to the earth. There
was no panic — not a back turned — only that
instinctive shrinking which Life sometimes
feels when Death unexpectedly thrusts out
his ghastly face through the smoke of battle.
A color-bearer sprang forward with the battle-
flag. He halted beside me and rested the
end q{ the flag-staff on the ground. He half-

"The Left Wheel." 199

faced about toward the men. His voice rang
out like a bugle blast, as he raised his arm
and shouted :

" Here are }'Our colors!"

The line responded with a yell as it sprang
forward, and soon was wrapped in the sulphur-
ous smoke of its volleys which it thundered
against the foe.

As the line moved on, I stepped behind
them and passed farther to the right, and
again went out ahead. The "left wheel"
which the corps made in this battle resulted
naturally from the position of the forces en-
gaged. If we had moved directly forward in
the direction in which we started, only the
left of the Second Division would have struck
the rebel's works ; but the men posted in
their front, as they were forced back, retreated
toward the north-west, and we naturally swung
around in following them.

We were now in front of the Third Divi-
sion, the rebels still contesting every foot of
ground. We finally drove them across an
open field about a hundred yards wide. A
road was on our left; at least all the Bucktails
in sight were on the right of the road. A
house stood near the road next to the woods,

200 In the Ranks.

out of which we had driven the rebels, who
were now firing from the farther side of the
field. We were crossing the field, and some
had reached the woods beyond, when the line
of battle came up by the house behind us
and opened fire. We hurried back to escape
their bullets, which we considered more dan-
gerous than those of the enemy. I stood
behind them near the house, watching their
firing, very much disgusted with the perform-
ance. There was a young lady in the house,
apparently the only occupant. She was almost
wild with fright, and gave vent to her feelings
in screams and cries of terror.

A little ^ lieutenant was prancing around
back of the line, flourishing his saber in gal-
lant style. He accosted me, and demanded
why I was standing back, doing nothing. I
replied that I did not belong on his — line,
and made some comments perhaps not strictly
polite. This added wrath to his excitement.
I think this must have been the first time he
had smelled gunpowder, except at a distance,
and he supposed they were doing grandly.
There was no telling how much effort it had
cost him to get his courage screwed up suffi-
ciently to bring him thus far ; and to have this

"We've Got Them!" 201

dirty, mud-bedraggled scrub of a boy intimate
that the whole outfit should be furnished with
long ears, was too much. As Homer would
say, ''his diaphragm became black all over."
At this point Captain Birkman appeared on
the scene and announced that he was respon-
sible for me. This ended the matter.

After firing awhile, this brigade started to
advance across the field. The regiment on
the left moved up in good order as far as the
edge of the woods. The others straggled for-
ward in disorder. Both officers and men
seemed to be confused. By the time they
reached the woods they were little better than
a mob, and had to halt to re-form. I think
the man in command of the brigade was re-
sponsible for this. I now started out to skir-
mish again, intending to keep in front of the
regiment on the left. As I reached the point
where the road entered the woods, I met
Mike Coleman coming on a run, and greatly
excited.

"Why, Mike, I thought you were kilt!
I heard you were shot in the head back
yonder."

Scarcely pausing for a reply, he went on :

"We Ve got them! we 've got them!

202 In the Ranks.

We 're right in their rear. We '11 take them
all ! Why do n't these men come on?"

With this he hurried back to the men just
behind us, and in a breath told them the sit-
uation, and urged them to come on without
delay. To his great disgust, his appeals were
unheeded, and he turned to me saying we
would go alone. But now we saw some of
the Bucktails coming forward, and soon about
twenty of us were deployed at skirmish dis-
tance, advancing on the rebel rear. Their
line could be seen stretching far to right and
left. Our Spencers rattled among the trees
as we rained the bullets upon them. They
turned on us savagely, and their rifles blazed
and flashed in reply. . Presently their fire
slackened. They right-faced, and began to
move off toward the west, at first with some
order ; but soon they were only a panic-
stricken mob, fleeing in all directions, some to
the right, some to the left, others toward us.
The latter we disarmed and sent to the rear
without any guard, and kept up a fire on
those who were running to the right. They
threw down their guns by hundreds, and sur-
rendered.

Toward the close a rebel soldier came

Face to Face. 203

toward me at full speed, with his gun at a
trail-arms. I did not notice him until he was
within twenty-five or thirty yards of me. I
yelled at him to surrender ; but he came on
without checking his speed. I stepped from
the tree by which I was standing, and leveled
my rifle on him.

"Drop that gun!" I yelled again.

He dropped it as if it had burned him,
and hustled off his accouterments, and threw
them on the ground. I made him stay with
me, intending to take him back myself My
cartridges were about exhausted, and I fired
all but one or two at the rear of the fleeing
rebels, and started back with the prisoner.

The sun had now gone down. The moon
was shining peacefully. How quickly those
fateful hours of battle had passed ! T started
for the point where our line had formed, ex-
pecting to dispose of my prisoner there, and
then sleep all night. As we passed along,
the dead lay scattered here and there as they
fell. There was something startlingly solemn
in those motionless forms, the stony eyes
staring in the moonlight.

Beyond the church I found a large number
of prisoners, and turned over my man to the

204 In the Ranks.

guards, and started to return. I was joined
by L. C. Walb, who had also been back with
prisoners. The church had been turned into
a hospital. It was full of wounded, and many-
were laid on the ground outside. A few rods
past the church we lay down to sleep. There
came a reaction after the excitement of the
day. Nerves, strained to their utmost tension
for hours, relaxed, and seemed to tingle with
the pain of weariness. The jarring noises of
battle were reproduced as the senses glided
through that strange interval between waking
and sleeping, and more than once I came back
to consciousness with a start, scarcely able,
for a moment, to distinguish the real and the
unreal. A low, moaning sound came from
the hundreds of wounded about the church ;
not any single groan or cry of pain, but only
a sound as if the hurried breath from suffering
lips smote upon the strings of an unseen harp,
which sounded out its sad cadences through
the air. But at last I sunk into a sound
sleep.

Our losses were less severe than on the
preceding day. Eight hundred and thirty-
four were killed and wounded, and fifty-four
were missing. The opposing force of the

A Decisive Battle. 205

enemy was practically annihilated. Three
thousand were killed and wounded, and five
thousand five hundred were made prisoners.
Eleven stand of colors were taken, and four
guns, with their caissons ; also wagons and
other material.

Captain Birkman, of Company A, says of
this battle, in an extract kindly furnished from
his diary : ** The most successful attack I ever
witnessed." It was a decisive battle, and set-
tled the fate of the Confederacy. Since leav-
ing camp on the morning of March 29th,
three days before, the Fifth Corps had lost
nearly one-fourth of its number in battles.

In this engagement the direct assault was
made by the Second Division, the other divis-
ions swinging around on the enemy's left flank
and rear. The Third Brigade first struck, and
broke through the rebel works. Sergeant
Huck, with the colors of the One Hundred
and Ninety-first, was the first man across the
rebel rifle-pits. Colonel Pattee, commanding
the first line, was the first mounted oflicer
across, and leaped his horse over the breast-
work while the foremost of the assailants
were crowding over. They found themselves
in the midst of the panic-stricken rebels, who

2o6 In the Ranks.

threw down their arms and surrendered in
large numbers. The Maryland brigade struck
the rebel position almost at the same time,
and with like results. The division then
passed on down along the rear of the rebel
position, doubling them up rapidly, and driv-
ing them in confusion.

We have read how the infantry faltered,
till General Sheridan led them to the charge.
We venture the opinion that this is wholly
imaginary. These two brigades moved upon
the rebel works as steadily and swiftly as the
nature of the ground would allow. General
Sheridan's reputation does not need any arti-
ficial bolstering, least of all at the expense of
deserving men and officers.

The arbitrary removal of General Warren
from the command of the Fifth Corps was
unknown to the soldiers until the following
morning. We heard only expressions of sur-
prise and disapproval. It must be a cause of
regret to all fair-minded men, that he was not
allowed to share in this grand success with the
men whom he had so long commanded. He
was held in high esteem by the private sol-
diers, who regarded him as a brave and skill-
ful officer.

In Front of Petersburg. 207

• Chapter XIX.

THE battle of Five Forks was fought on
Saturday. Sabbath morning the sun rose
bright and clear. When we camped the night
before, Walb and myself planned for a substan-
tial night's rest. For the first time since
breaking camp, on the night of March 28th,
we unpacked our blankets and made a bed.
It was after sunrise when we awoke. Far to
the right we could hear the low grumble of
artillery, sounding like the roar of distant
thunder. Since four o'clock in the morning
a great battle had been raging in front of
Petersburg, from the Appomattox on the
right, to Hatcher's Run on the left.

Without waiting for breakfast, we went on
to find the regiment. They were camped not
far from where the roads crossed which formed
the famous ''Forks." At an early hour we
were in motion, toward the right, where heavy
and continuous firing could be distinctly heard.
We passed by the ground where we had fought
the evening before. The rebel dead were

2o8 In the Ranks.

strewn far and near, like sheaves of grain in a
harvest-field, showing how destructive had been
our fire. The One Hundred and Ninetieth
was deployed on the flank, and moved paral-
lel to the column, at skirmish distance, about
two hundred yards from it.

After marching for some time in the direc-
tion of Petersburg, we bore to the left, and
about noon we reached the South Side Rail-
road, near Southerland's Station, and marched
some distance along it. Beyond the road we
found strong rifle-pits, which the enemy had
abandoned. During the day news reached us
that the works in front of Petersburg had
been taken, and there was general rejoicing.
That night we bivouaced near the Appomat-
tox River.

April 3d we moved, at eight in the morn-
ing. Some firing was heard on our left, and
many prisoners met us as we marched along.
We found cannon abandoned in the road, and
there was evidence on every hand that the
rebels were hard pressed. Our general course
was along what is called the river road, though
we did not follow it all the time. Our move-
ments and progress had to be governed by the
supposed movements of the enemy. At one

Lee's Mistake. 209

time we were deployed as skirmishers, and
went down to the river. I do not know the rea-
son of this precaution, but no enemy was
found. We camped that night along the road.
April 4th we resumed the march, soon
after sunrise. We were short of provisions,
and foragers were sent out to secure what
could be gathered from the country. I was
out in the afternoon. While returning in the
evening, after sun-down, I was shot at by some
one, when quite near the column. That night
we reached the Danville Railroad, near Jet-
tersville, and camped in order of battle, about
three miles from Lee's army. For this rea-
son no fires were made. We had been thrown
between him and Danville, which he was aim-
ing to reach. Here Lee made a mistake. It
was his duty to know of our presence here
during the night. He should have attacked
us promptly by daylight on the following
morning ; and, if possible, overwhelmed us
before the rest of the army could arrive.
There was little if any force confronting him,
except the Fifth Corps, not more than twelve
thousand men. I think we reached Jetters-
ville in advance of the main body of the
cavalry.

2IO In The Ranks.

The morning of the 5th found us in-
trenched, and expecting an attack from the
enemy. Rebel troops could be seen in the
distance, and we supposed they were forming
for battle. We stood behind the works wait-
ing. Their skirmishers advanced and opened
fire on our outposts. Hour after hour passed.
At length the Second and Sixth corps arrived,
and Lee's opportunity was lost.

April 6th we advanced, at first with some
caution. But Lee was in full retreat toward
Lynchburg, and we followed. During the
day, a body of rebel cavalry made a dash at
the wagon train, and we were ordered back to
drive them off. We went back about three
miles at double-quick. We met quite a num-
ber of men who had been skulking with the
train, now rushing for the front at full speed.
As we witnessed their consternation, we were
entirely reconciled to the loss of a few wagons,
just to see the ''coffee brigade" shaken up.
The rebels had been repulsed by our cavalry
before we reached the scene. We remained
with the train, and camped with it during the
night. We marched twenty-nine miles, and
arrived within five miles of High Bridge.

On the 7th we still remained with the train.

"Fall in! " 211

We passed a place where a rebel wagon train
had been attacked by our cavalry. Ammuni-
tion and stores of all kinds were strewn every-
where. Wagon loads of shells had been emp-
tied out, and lay scattered through the woods.

Some time during the day, we had halted
by the road, and, as our rest was quite pro-
longed, some of the men had fallen asleep.
Among others. Captain Birkman was sleeping
soundly, perhaps dreaming of the peace that
was now almost conquered. The woods were
burning, a few rods on our right. The fire at
last reached a lot of shells, which had been
thrown from the wagons, to keep them from
falling into the hands of the Yankees. They
went off with a frightful clatter. The captain
bounced from the ground as if a hornet had
lifted him. **Fall in!" he shouted, grasp-
ing his sword. Of course, all who were awake
qomprehended the situation, and prudently lay
still, to avoid the flying fragments. As the
truth dawned upon him, the captain at first
looked "sold" and disgusted, and then joined
in the general laughter.

We halted that night near Prince Edward's
Court-house, after a march of eighteen miles.
Here we rejoined the brigade.

212 In the Ranks.

April 8th we made the most trying march
of all. We lost some time by going out of
the way, and made frequent halts during the
forenoon, as if uncertain of the direction, or
suspicious of the movement of the enemy.
About noon we reached Prospect Station,
thirteen miles from Farmville. In the after-
noon we settled down to hard marching. We
did not halt for supper. The sun went down,
night came on, and still we marched on. By
nine o'clock conversation had ceased — no
breath could be wasted in words. Even
''Sport" could no longer muster spirit to
crack a joke on any body. You could only
hear the ''tramp, tramp" of feet, and the
occasional clatter of a saber. But there was
no grumbling. We knew this was the last
forced march. One more blow, and treason
would be crushed in the dust. As the col-
umn, from time to time, became clogged by
some obstruction ahead, and halted for a mo-
ment, the men would sink down on the
ground, most of them just where they stopped,
to catch brief rest for their aching limbs. At
such times I would be sound asleep in a mo-
ment, and more than once the column was
marching on and myself with it when I awoke.

The Last Day. 213

Midnight came, and still we pressed on
relentlessly. About one in the morning we
saw lights ahead, which indicated that a halt
had been made. Never did rest and sleep
seem sweeter, nor a mile seem longer. It re-
quired a distinct effort of the will to compel
each single step. But at last the task was
accomplished. We had marched forty-two
miles since sunrise, and lay within striking
distance of the enemy.

The company was represented by Dunn,
Bovard, Mike Coleman, Sergeant Hasler, and
myself. The rest had broken down under the
terrible strain and fallen behind. Without
removing any thing, I threw myself on the
ground, and knew no more until I was aroused
at daylight to go on.

Just after sunrise we halted — for breakfast,
they said. It was rather a grim sort of a joke.
Scarcely one in fifty had any thing to eat. A
few had coffee, and fires were made, and we
went through the regulation motions of get-
ting breakfast. This done, we started on
again.

It soon became evident that the enemy
had been brought to bay. The confused
noise of battle rang through the air. We had

214 In the Ranks.

halted in the woods, and stood in the road
waiting, sure that the end had come.

Colonel Pattee was on his horse, half faced
about toward his men, evidently impatient
and eager. An aid gallops up with orders.
Colonel Pattee looks happy. He gives his
old horse an extra jerk :

" Forward ! Double Quick! March ! "

On we go toward the scene of conflict.

Again Colonel Pattee's voice rings out:
** Deploy Skirmishers!" and in less than a
minute a line of Bucktails stretches through
the w^oods, facing the enemy. There is no
waiting. *• Forward!" passes down the line,
and we move out into the open field in front.
A hundred yards ahead the cavalry are stub-
bornly facing a heavy force of rebel infantry
that is crowding on them and steadily pushing
them back. Now and then a man falls from
his horse or rides back wounded. We were
on lower ground than they, and the bullets
w^histled above us; but as we went up the
rising ground, they began to hiss around our
heads. We double-quicked forward and began
firing.

Between us and the town there was a hol-
low, and on the farther ridge a road led down

The Last Battle. 215

through the village. There was a wood on
the left at the head of the hollow, and on the
right a narrow strip of timber ran up to
within two hundred yards of the road. The
right of the regiment extended past the
woods, or rather only a small portion of the
left would strike them in moving straight for-
ward. As we came to the ridge overlooking
the hollow, we saw the rebel troops drawn up
on the opposite slope. Soon they gave way
and moved off toward the town out of sight,
and a battery from the ridge opened with
shell.

As soon as the battery opened fire, Rob-
bins, myself, and two or three others started
toward it. A rail fence ran along the hollow
proper on the side next to us. As we neared
the fence, Robbins, who was a few steps in
advance, stopped.

''We had better stay here," he said, as he
deliberately aimed at the battery.

'* There are rebels in the woods there,"
meaning on the left. As he spoke, a bullet
from the left clipped close over his gun barrel.

''See that!" he added, his aim not in the
least disturbed. The gunners were shooting
over us, as we supposed, at the line of battle

2i6 In the Ranks.

farther back. But we had only fired a few
shots when a shell burst in front of us, its
fragments scattering dirt, fence rails, and
splinters for yards around.

"Well! I think we'll go on," said Rob-
bins. On we went to the farther side of the
hollow, and under shelter of the bank, we
kept up our fire with good effect. We would
dodge their shells as they fired, and then rise
and fire till they were ready again. Some
riflemen in the vicinity of the battery gave us
trouble, but failed to hit any of us.

After this had continued for some time, the
One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania, a
Zouave regiment, came down behind us on
a double-quick, deployed as skirmishers. As
they neared the fence a shell from the bat-
tery screamed over our heads, and exploding,
killed one of their men. They heeded this
no more than if it had not occurred, and
came on with a cheer. Giving a parting shot
to the battery which was now pulling out, we
started on, bearing to the right toward the
town. As we neared the point of the strip
of woods on our right, Ginter, of Company E,
stopped and sat down flat on the ground, re-
marking that it was getting mighty hot. I

The Last Ditch. 217

was of the same opinion, and halted a few
feet in advance of him and fired a (ew shots
in a kneeling posture. While thus engaged,
I heard the sound of a blow behind me, and
looking around, I saw Ginter tumbling on the
ground, his heels in the air. He quickly
gathered himself up to a sitting posture with
a very rueful countenance, giving vent to his
feelings in sundry expletives, as soon as he
could get breath enough to deliver them prop-
erly. With many a doleful grunt he exam-
ined the extent of his injuries. A bullet had
struck the belt of his cartridge-box, nearly
over the heart. The ball had force enough
almost to pierce the leather belt and severely
bruise the chest, raising a lump half as large
as a hen's egg, and very painful. Some fel-
low off to the left had reached for us, and
well-nigh finished Ginter. He did not go to
the rear, but kept on, holding his clothing
from the painful bruise, too much engaged in
this to do any more shooting.

A few minutes later, a rebel officer gal-
loped along the line with a white flag. We
were almost to the road at this time, at the
outskirts of the town. We did not think of
continuing the fight any longer, but some

2i8 In the Ranks.

rebel soldiers on the left past the town, fired
on us when we exposed ourselves, and we
returned the treacherous fire, and advanced
across the road. By the road, facing us as
we approached, stood a negro cabin, out of
which a rebel officer came as we reached it.
A few words were exchanged between him
and Adjutant Wright, and I think he was
allowed to go down the road to where the
main body of the rebel troops had halted.
Our fire continuing, Colonel Pattee rode up
to us, excitedly, to learn what it meant. Ad-
jutant Wright explained that rebel skirmishers
were still firing at us.

"Have this firing stopped at once," he
said ; and seeing a protest in Wright's face,
he went on: "I tell you, you're excited,
adjutant, and the men are excited. They've
surrendered, and this must cease."

"Excited!" was the reply. "If they
want to surrender, let them cease firing."

At this moment a bullet whizzed past the
colonel's head, and killed a cavalry man on
the bank beyond him. He rode off to the
right, and left us to manage it to suit our-
selves. In a little while the firing fi-om both
sides ceased. The Army of the Potomac had

Forward. 219

accomplished its mission. We had fought our
last battle. The One Hundred and Ninetieth
and One Hundred and Ninety-first had proved
themselves, to the last hour, worthy success-
ors of the Pennsylvania Reserves.

The preceding narrative will be better un-
derstood by a fuller statement of the part
taken by the entire regiment in the engage-
ment. The original intention was for Colonel
Pattee to connect the right of his command
with the First Division and the left with the
command of General Ord. On reaching the
front, he discovered that the cavalry were
hard pressed, and would soon be dislodged
from the woods, which would have to be re-
gained at great disadvantage, and perhaps se-
rious loss. He, therefore, ordered the regi-
ment forward to their relief Advancing rap-
idly, they relieved the cavalry and engaged
the enemy before the troops on either flank
were in position. Colonel Pattee now found
his skirmish line confronting heavy lines of
battle, and back of these, on the ridge near
the village, in position to sweep all the open
ground in front, Lee's artillery was massed.
He at once thinned the exposed center and
right of his line, strengthened the left, and

220 In the Ranks.

charged boldly forward upon the enemy,
throwing his left around upon their flank.
Meantime the right pressed rapidly on, and
engaged the rebel infantry in the open ground,
and, later, the artillery on the ridge. Their
infantry was routed, and driven back over the
ridge, where their officers tried in vain to rally
and lead them forward. Their artillery re-
sisted with desperation until their commander
was killed. By this time many of their horses
had been shot, and they tried to drag the
guns away by hand. But now the left of the
regiment, under Colonel Pattee, came charging
down on their right flank, bursting upon them
like a tornado; and literally mingled together,
almost fighting hand to hand, they went pell-
mell toward the village. Here the flag of
truce met them, and soon hostilities ceased.
Rarely has a more brilliant and successful at-
tack been executed in modern warfare, and it
reflects the highest credit upon Colonel Pattee
and his command. Rebel officers who wit-
nessed it spoke in the highest terms of the
splendid and reckless courage with which this
skirmish line dashed upon the heavy masses
of the enemy.

The death of the cavalryman, to which

The Last Killed. 221

reference has been made, was a cause of great
regret to all who witnessed it. He was a
brave young man. When relieved by the
Bucktails, he might have retired from the field
with honor, as did most of the command to
which he belonged. He preferred, however,
to remain. Falling in with Colonel Pattee,
he fought by his side during all* the engage-
ment, charged with him in the last deadly on-
set, and escaped unharmed, to fall by the
bullet of a cowardly truce-breaker.

Lieutenant Hayden, of the One Hundred
and Ninety-first, a brave young officer, for-
merly of the Eleventh Reserves, lost a leg in
this battle. It seemed hard to suffer death or
maiming in this, the last hour, let us hope,
that the nation will know of civil strife ; but
let us honor the men who were thus faithful
to the end.

222 In the Ranks.

Chapter XX.

GENERALS GRANT, Meade, Ord, and
others came down the road to the vil-
lage. General Lee and his associates came in
the opposite direction. They met at a house
about two hundred yards from us, in full view
of the place where we stood. Here the sur-
render was completed.

Twenty-six thousand men were surren-
dered. Besides those who had straggled and
scattered through the country, or willfully de-
serted, Lee had lost in battle, since March
29th, 25,750 men. Both armies were much
exhausted, and if Lee could have shaken off
the clutch of Sheridan, and continued his re-
treat to Lynchburg, Grant would have been
compelled to abandon the pursuit within three
days, from lack of food for his army.

As soon as a few wagons came up with
provisions, rations were issued to both armies ;
but there was not a sufficient supply. We
remained on the skirmish line till the loth,
when we returned to the brigade. Several

Homeward Bound. 223

days of wet weather followed, and the wagon-
trains could not be brought up. On the 15th
we began the homeward march with empty
haversacks.

We camped that night at Pamplin's Sta-
tion. In the evening George Dunn stole a
couple of the meanest, most diminutive, runty
little hams you ever saw. I helped him eat
them, and am willing to bear a fair share of
the blame ; but a country that can produce
such hams needs reconstruction. On the i6th
we reached Farmville. The next day we
camped eight miles from Burksville. At the
latter place we rested a few days, before re-
suming the march to Washington. Here the
news first reached us of Lincoln's assassina-
tion. A number of men, who had been taken
prisoners during 1864, rejoined us.

I was at headquarters one evening, for some
purpose, when a soldier accosted me and in-
quired for the One Hundred and Ninetieth.
He was ragged, thin, and pale. His hair and
beard were of long growth. Looking into his
haggard face and sunken eyes, there was not
an outline I could recognize.

"The One Hundred and Ninetieth is right
here. I belong to it."

224 In the Ranks.

"Are there any of Company D of the
Eleventh Reserves here?"

"Yes; I belonged to Company D."

"You did!"

He leaned toward me, looked intently a
moment, then reached out his hand.

"Why, Mac; I 'm glad to find you."

As his face brightened I recognized him.
It was Wm. Kenedy, of the old company.
He was made prisoner May 5 th, in the Wil-
derness. He had escaped from prison, and
made his way through the country to our
lines, traveling by night, hiding by day, fed
by the slaves, nursed by them through a fever
contracted in the swamps. Rest, food, and
clean clothes soon made him look like him-
self again.

But my narrative must hasten to a close.
We resumed the march, passed through Peters-
burg, Richmond, Fredericksburg, and camped
at last on Arlington Heights. We participated
in the grand review. It was something of
more than ordinary interest, to see and com-
pare the two great armies. Most of Sher-
man's army had but just arrived, and were
dusty and travel-worn ; while the army of the
Potomac had been resting for some time, and

Mustered Out. 225

looked fresher and more sprightly. The latter
wore caps, and the former hats, which gave
them a more somber appearance. I was also
of the impression that there were more young
men in our army than in Sherman's.

June 28th we were mustered out, and
started the next day for Harrisburg, where
we were discharged, July 2d.

The report of the Adjutant-general of Penn-
sylvania gives these two regiments, the One
Hundred and Ninetieth and One Hundred and
Ninety-first, no credit for active service subse-
quent to the battle of Welden Railroad, August,
1864. At this time. Colonel Carle, of the One
Hundred and Ninety-first, and Colonel Harts-
horn, of the One Hundred and Ninetieth,
were made prisoners, with the greater part of
their respective commands, and remained in
captivity till after the cessation of hostilities.
The remainder of the two regiments acted to-
gether as one organization, under command
of Colonel Pattee, as mentioned on page 118,
until the close of the war. This was by far
the longest and most brilliant period of their
history ; but of this, the public records of the
State make no mention. At the time of the

muster out, Colonel Pattee was absent, and
15

226

In the Ranks.

the report of the One Hundred and Ninetieth
was made out by, or under the supervision of,
Colonel Hartshorn ; that of the One Hundred
and Ninety-first by Colonel Carle. We sup-
pose that these officers neglected to insert the
names of the engagements which occurred
while Colonel Pattee was in command.

The following

is a list of the battles in

which the regiment took part :

White Oak Swamp

June 13, 1864,
Petersburg, . . .

June 17, 1864,
Weldon Railroad,

August 19, 1864,

The two colonels in

of their men, were mac

heavy loss of killed anc

2D Weldon Railroad,

August 21, 1864,
Poplar Grove, . . .

September 29, 1864
Hatcher's Run, . .

October 27, 1864,
RowANTY Creek,

February 5, 1865,

Hatcher's Run, . .
February 6, 1865,

Gravelly Run, . .

March 31, 1865,
Five Forks, ....

April I, 1865,
Appomattox Court-house,

April 9, 1865,

{:^st'}c°>- J. B. Pattee.

/ 190th, "t Col. W. R. Hartshorn.

\ 191st, / Col. Carle.

command, with the greater part
e prisoners in this battle, after a
wounded.

10 t' /- Captain Birkman.( ?)
fi90th,|(.^j p^^^^^^

Major Birkman. 227

MAJOR R. M. BIRKMAN.

Major R. M. Birkman was born in St.
Louis in April, 1837, and spent his childhood
and early life in Harrisburg, Penn. He was
in Philadelphia when the war was inaugurated
by the firing on Fort Sumter, and at once en-
listed in Company E, Eleventh Pennsylvania
Reserves. He was made first sergeant, then
commissioned second lieutenant, then pro-
moted to first lieutenant, and after the reor-
ganization, to captain of Company A, One
Hundred and Ninetieth Pennsylvania.

At the close of the war he received the
rank of brevet major for meritorious service.
The following extract shows the esteem in
which he was held by the officers with whom
he was associated. It is from a letter of
Brevet Brigadier -general Gwyn, who com-
manded the brigade in which he served during
the latter part of the war :

"Captain, it affords me'pleasure to testify
to your bravery, ability, and universal good
conduct in the several bloody fights in which
your regiment was engaged during the late
campaign. In the camp, no less than in the
field, your conduct bore testimony to your

228 In the Ranks.

Avorth. Sober, steady, and Industrious, you
set an example worth following."

In the army, as elsewhere, he was the
quiet, unassuming, conscientious gentleman,
doing his duty.

After the war, he returned to Blairsville,
Penn., where he married Miss Mary L. Black,
a most estimable lady of that city. He pur-
chased the Blairsville Press, and continued to
be editor and publisher of that paper till 1870.
He then bought the IndiaJia Register and
American, and merged the two papers into the
Indiana Progress, which he published until the
1st of March, 1880. His health had been
gradually failing for three or four years previ-
ous to this date ; but he continued to devote
his attention to the work which he loved,
until the advance of disease warned him that
his work was done. He then "set his house
in order," fearlessly committed himself to the
God whom he had served and loved, and
waited calmly for the last of earth.

As death drew near, his mind went back
over the scenes of camp and field, and he
fought his battles o'er again. He died April
24, 1880. For seven years previous to his
death he had been an active member of the

General Pattee. 229

Presbyterian Church, and proved himself an
earnest, consistent Christian.

BRIGADIER -GENERAL JOSEPH B. PATTEE.

Brevet Brigadier - General Joseph B.
Pattee is a native of Vermont. Of his hfe
previous to the breaking out of the war we
have no information. When the Pennsylvania
Reserves were organized in 1861, he was com-
missioned first lieutenant Company B, of the
Tenth. December 10, 1862, he was promoted
to captain. At Bethesda Church, May 30,
1864, he was wounded in the knee by a grape-
shot. He continued on duty, however, al-
though this wound troubled him for more
than a year afterward. When the reorganiza-
tion took place, he was commissioned Heuten-
ant-colonel of the One Hundred and Ninetieth
Pennsylvania. Colonel Hartshorn being ab-
sent, he took command of the regiment. June
17th, he was severely wounded during the as-
sault on Petersburg. A rifle-ball struck him
in the center of the chest, and came out under
his arm. This wound compelled an absence
of nearly three months. He returned Sep-
tember 13th, although still suffering from this

230 In the Ranks.

wound and the one received in May. During
his absence, Colonel Hartshorn and Colonel
Carle, of the One Hundred and Ninety-first,
returned, and took command of their respect-
ive regiments. These officers, with the greater
part of their men, were made prisoners Au-
gust 19th, and so remained until after the
cessation of hostilities.

The remainder of the two regiments, in-
creased during the Fall by returning convales-
cents, numbered about five hundred men.
Colonel Pattee took command of these, and
they acted together as one organization. To
his care, skill, and courage they owe the
brilliant record which they made during the
rest of their history. At Gravelly Run his
promptness and decision saved the Union
forces from serious disaster. His gallant con-
duct in leading the assault on the rebel in-
trenchments at Five Forks is mentioned in the
account of that batde. At Appomattox
Court-house he was ordered forward with his
regiment from the rear of the division, for the
purpose of making that last dash against Lee,
and compelling his surrender. For the prompt
and skillful manner in which this attack was
executed, he was highly complimented by the

Muster - rolls. 23 1

generals in command, and was brevetted brig-
adier-general.

Since the close of the war he has been in
the West, and is now engaged in a land
agency business at Canton, Dakota Territoiy.

The following muster-rolls are obtained
from the ''History of the Pennsylvania Vol-
unteers." The roll of Company C, One Hun-
dred and Ninetieth, is defective in that work,
and we have added a few names from mem-
ory. The following abbreviations need ex-
planation : M. A. C. D. C.= Military Asylum
Cemetery, District of Columbia; V. R. C.:=
Veteran Reserve Corps ; N. C. = National
Cemetery. The date which follows the name
and rank of an officer, or the name of a pri-
vate, indicates the date of enlistment.

doii\j)kiiy d, lltli P. % V. d.

Mustered Out June 13, 1864.

S. Louden, Capt. ; June 10, '6r ; disc. sur. cer., Sept.

26, '62.
W. H. Timblin, Capt.; June 10, '61; Brev. Maj.;

wounded in Wilderness ; must, out with Co.
Newton Redic, ist Lt. ; June 10, '61 ; killed at Gaines'

Mill, June 27, '62.

232 In the Ranks.

G. W. Fliger, ist Lt ; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64;

disc. Ivlarch 12, '65.
J. C. Kuhn, 2d Lt. ; June 10, '61 ; died ot wounds,

Sept. 17, '62.
J. H. Sutton, 2d Lt. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for wounds,

July 3. '63.
W. J. Halderman, ist Sergt. ; Oct. i, '61 ; trans. 190th,

vet.
G. W. Milford, Sergt. ; June 10, '61 ; disc. sur. cer.,

Jan. 20, '63.
J. H. Christie, Sergt. ; June 10, '61 ; killed at Gaines'

Mill, June 27, '62.
G. A. Black, Sergt. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Co.
J. T: Kelly, " :'
G. W. Eby,
M. Heckart,
W. Prior, Sergt.; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64; died

at Andersonville, Nov. 28, '64; grave 12,191.
Hiram Black, Corp. ; June 10, '61 ; died of wounds,

Dec. 18. '62.
J. W. Campbell, Corp. , June 10, '61 ; must, out with Co.
S. Cook, " " " disc, on sur. cer.

J. H. Meeder, " June 23, '61 ; " "
R. S. Harper, Corp. ; Feb. 24, '62 ; trans. 190th ; disc.

Feb. 24, '62.
J. S. Campbell, Corp.; June 10, '61; pris. May 5, '64;

disc. Dec. 22, '64.
R. S. Ray, Corp. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Co.
W. R Black, "
J. M. Varnum,mus., "
J. Heckart, " June 23, '61 ; "

« (I

Muster - rolls. 233

PRIVATES.

Allen, D. S. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Company.
Adams, H. C. ; Oct. i, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., June 30, '62.
Anderson, R. M. ; Mar. 4, '62 ; " " June 24, '62.
Birch, D.; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Company.
Black, J. R. ; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64; disc. Dec.

12, '64.
Bell, S. M. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for wounds, May 20, '63.
Brandon, Henry ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for wounds, Oct.

10, '62.

Beatty, S. R. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for wounds rec'd at

Gaines' Mill.
Bryan, W. A. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer., Feb.

11, 63.

Bruner, S. ; June 23, '61 ; pris. May 5, '65, to Ap. 17, '65.
Black, U. J. ; June 10, '61 ; died Dec. 26, '62 ; buried in

M. A. Cem., D. C.
Beam, J. ; June 10, '61 ; died Aug. 7, '62, of wounds

rec'd at Gaines' Mill.
Brewster, J. C. ; June 10, '61 ; died July 23, '62 ; buried

in M. A. Cem., D. C.
Boreland, J. W. ; June 10, '61 ; died May 22, '62.
Campbell, I. ; " " must, out with Co.

Christy, H. F. ;

Cannon, J.; June 23, '61 ; absent, sick, at muster out.
Campbell, R. G. ; Feb. 29, '64; trans, to 190th; pris.,

died at Anderson ville, Aug., '64.
Campbell, Wm. ; June 10, '61 ; died Aug. i, '63, of

wounds rec'd at Gettysburg; bur. N. C, sec. D.,

grave 39.
Clark, C. ; died May 12, '65 ; bur. Cypress Hill Cem.,

Long Island.

234 In the Ranks.

Dobson, J. ; June lo, '6i ; mort. wounded, May 30, '64.
Donaldson, J.; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 30, '64; disc.

Dec. 16, '64.
Edgar, H. J. ; June 23, '61 ; disc, for w'ds, Nov. 23, '62.
Eshenbaugh, J.; June 10, '61 ; trans, to 190th; pris.,

May 30, '64, to April 17, '65 ; must, out vet.
Fliger, E. S. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer., Nov.

27, '61.
Fliger, Jacob ; June 10, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer., Nov,

27, '02.
Graham, Jas. K. ; June 10, '61; wounded; must, out

with Company.
Grossman, Lewis; June 10, '61 ; wounded, with loss of

arm and leg, May 11, '64; died Aug. 3, '64; bur,

N. C, Arlington.
Hindman, R. S. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Halstead, Jn. ; June 23, '61 ; " " "

Hilliard, W.; "

Hilliard.W. H. ; June 10, '61 ; disc. sur. cer.. May 11, '62.
Henlen, Jn. D. W. ; June 10, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., Jan.

8. '63.
Hoffman, Ed.: March 4, '62; trans, to 190th.
HilHard, EH ; June 10, '61 ; died at Richmond, Jan. 11,

'63, of wounds received at Fredericksburg.
Hyskill, G. ; June 10, '61 ; killed at Fred., Dec. 13. '62.
Hart, Samuel ; March 4, '62 ; died Aug. 10, '62.
Karner, Wm. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Company.
Krause, R. ; June 23, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64 ; disc. Mar.

I, '65.
Kepler, A. C. ; Oct. i, '61; w'd and pris. at Gaines'

Mill ; disc.
Kautch, Wolfgang ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for wounds,

Dec. 31, '63.

Muster-rolls. 235

Kenedy, B. F. ; Mar. 4, '62 ; trans, to 190th ; disc, at

expiration of term.
Larden, T. P. ; June 23, '61 ; wounded at Fred. ; pris.

May 5 ; disc. Mar. 14, '65.
Linsay, F. ; June 10, '61 ; died Jan. 4, '63, of wounds

rec'd at Fred. Dec. 13, '62 ; bur. M. A. C, D. C.
Livermore, J. ; Oct. i, '61 ; trans. V. R. C, Dec. 31, '63.
Miller, S. ; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64 ; disc. Mar.

5. '65.
M'Cleary, S. E. ; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64; disc.

Mar. 5, '65.
M'Gill, W. B. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer., Dec.

30, '61.
Malarkey, D. ; June 23, '^i ; disc. Feb. 11, '63.
Moore, W. E. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for w'ds, Sept. i, '63.
M'Murry, S. ; " " " " Dec. 3, '62.

M'Elhany, R. ; " " " " " 29, '62.

M'Elvain, R. ; " " " *' Jan. 15, '63.

M'Call, Alex. ; Feb. 8, '62 ; " " rec'd at Fred.

Milford, J. P. ; Aug. 26, '62 ; trans, to 190th.
Monnie, F. H.; Sept. 21, '62; trans, to 190th; disc.

at expiration of term.
M'Murry, R. ; Feb. 8, '62 ; trans, to 190th ; disc, at

expiration of term.
M'Camy, J. ; Feb. 24, '62 ; trans. V. R. C, Dec. 21, '63.
Miller, Isaiah: June 10, '61 ; died Aug. 13, '62; bur.

at Point Lookout.
Martin, Wm. ; Sept. 21, '61 ; died of w'ds. Sept. 17, '62.
M'Bride, W. A. ; June 10, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill,

June 27, '62.
Martin, P. G. ; June 23, '61 ; deserted Mar. 20, '63.
Patterson, H, B. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Pearce, J. M. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, for w'ds, Oct. 29, '62.

236 In the Ranks.

Pearce, R. C; Aug. 26, '62; died Dec. 13, '62; bur.

M. A. C, D. C.
Pettigrew, A. J.; June 10, '61; died July 11, '63, of

wounds rec'd at Gettysburg.
Porter, J. R. ; Oct. 5, '61 ; died Sept. 25, '62, of w'ds

rec'd at Bull Run, Aug. 30, '62.
Rhodes, G. M. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer., Aug.

23, '62.

Rothmire, G. ; June 10, '61; disc. Sept. 12, '62, for

wounds rec'd at Gaines' Mill.
Rinker, Wm. ; June 10, '61; disc. Sept. 12, '62, for

wounds rec'd at Bull Run, Aug. 30, '62.
Russel, D. H. ; Aug. 26, '62 ; trans, to 191st.
Rosenberry, J. ; June 10, '61 ; died at Macon, Ga., Dec.

24, '62, of wounds rec'd at Fredericksburg.
Russel, O. H. P. ; June 10, '62 ; died at Richmond,

Dec. 31, '62, of wounds rec'd at Fredericksburg.

Sloan, Wm. ; June 10, '61 ; must, out with Company.

Seaton, Amos; " " " " "

Shryock, S, P.; June 10, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64; disc.
Mar. 5, '65.

Say, Hon. H. ; Oct. 7, '61 ; trans, to 191st.

Stevenson, J. H. ; June 10, '61 ; killed at South Mount-
ain, Sept. 14, '62.

Schmidt, C. ; June 10, '61 ; killed at South Mountain,
Sept. 14, '62.

Shepard, J. M. ; Sept 21, '61 ; disc, for w'ds, Feb. 24, '63.

Taylor, J. L. ; June 10, '61; must, out with Company.

Thompson, W. S. ; June 10, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer.,
Aug. 2, '62.

Thompson, J. ; Oct. 13, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill.

White, Allen ; June 10, '61 ; killed at Wilderness,
May 5, '64.

Muster-rolls. 237

don^pkny f), lltl^ f. f(. V. C.

Wm. Stewart, Capt. ; July 5, '61 ; w'nded 2d Bull Run ;

killed at Fredericksbug, Dec. 13, '62.
Jacob Baiers, Capt.; July 5, '61 ; disc. April 9, '64, for

wounds received at Gaines' Mill.
Jas. P. Boggs, Capt. ; July 5, '61 ; Brev. Maj. ; wd.

twice, pris. once, must, out with Co.
J. S. Kenedy, ist Lt.; July 5, '61 ; disc. June 13, '63, for

wds. received at South Mountain, Sept. 14, '62.
Jesse Donaldson, 2d Lt. ; July 5, '61 ; died at Alex-
andria, Va., May 5, '62.
J. O'Harra Woods, 2d Lt. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Get-
tysburg, July 2, 63 ; N. C, sec. C, grave 35.
Wilson R. Potts, ist Sergt. ; July 5, '61 ; disc. sur. cer.

June 10, '62.
Wn>. C. Coleman, ist Sergt. ; Sept. 8, '61 ; trans. 190th

to 1st Lt, Co. I ; must, out June 28, '65.
Robt. Ash, Sergt. ; July 5, '61 ; disc. sur. cer. June 10,

•62.
Jn. Ganz, Sergt. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Sam'l J. Chrisley, Sergt. ; July 16, '61 ; killed at 2d Bull

Run, Aug, 30, '62.
Jac. B. Kinsell, Sergt.; July 5, '61 ; died Jan. 20, '63;

wounds received at Fred. ; Alex, grave 691.
G. W. M'Gaughey, Sergt. ; July 5, '61 ; died Rich. Feb.

10, '63, wounds received at Fred., Dec. 13, '62.
David C. Steen, Sergt. ; July 5, '61 ; trans. 190th ; wd.

Gaines' Mill, Fred., Wild. ; killed Weldon R. R.,

Aug. 19, '64., vet.
Geo. Weber, Sergt. ; July 5, '61 ; wounded Fred. ; pris.

May 5, '64 ; disc. Dec. 17, '64.

238 In the Ranks.

Jas. M'Clelland, Sergt. ; July 29, '61 ; must, out with

Co.
Jas. M. Graves, Sergt. ; July 12, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64;

must, out Dec. 18, '64.
Jn. Dunbar, Corp.; July 5, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill,

June 27, '62.
Silas Amberson, Corp. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Gaines'

Mill, June 27, '62.
Robt. G. Gilleland, Corp ; July 5, '61 ; disc. sur. cer.,

Feb. 4, '63.
David P. Stewart, Corp. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Gaines'

Mill, June 27, '62.
David S. Parks, Corp. ; July 6, '61 ; killed May 30, '64.
Jas. R. Moore, Corp. ; July 29, '61 ; disc, on sur. cer.,

Feb. 7, '63.
Jas. B. Shafer, Corp. ; July 29, '61 ; trans. 190th ; must.

out June 28, '65.
Dan'l Graham, Corp. ; July 5, '61 ; pris. May 30, '64;

died — .
Jesse Fry, Corp. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Chas. Minnemyer, Musician ; July 6, '61 ; promoted to

prin. muse, Nov. i, '63; must, out with Co.
Alf. Nixon, muse. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.

PRIVATES.

Addleman, Lind. H. ; Feb. 24, '62 ; died at home on

Furlough.
Barron, Barn. C. ; July 5, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., Aug. 3.

'62.
Beers, Jn. ; Feb. 8, '62. ; trans, 190th ; pris. Aug, 19,

'64 ; not accounted for.
Berchtold, Jas.; Feb. 25, '62 ; trans. U. S. N., Nov. '62.
Beers. Sm'l ; July 5, '61 ; trans. V. R. C, Sept. i, '63.

Muster - rolls. 239

Beggs, Jn.; July 5, '61 ; trans. V. R. C, Sept. i, '63.
Beatty, Jn. M. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Gaines* Mill,

June 27, '62.
Bedillion, Peter; July 16, '61 ; died Jan. 17, '62.
Beltz, Chas. ; ; died Sept. 4, '62 ; bur. Alexandria,

grave 212.
Boggs, Wm, ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Brennamin, S. ; March 18, '64; trans. 190th; pris.

Aug. 18, '64; not accounted for.
Brown, Robt. J. ; July 16, '61 ; trans. 190th ; not ac-
counted for.
Brown, Jn. M. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Brunnermer, Geo. ; Feb. 8, '62 ; trans. 190th ; wd. May

30, Aug. 18, '64; must, out, vet.
Burr, Jacob; Feb. 25, '64; trans. 190th; pris. Aug. 19,

'64 ; not accounted for.
Cartwright, Linas ; July 16, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., March

I, '64,
Campbell, David; July 16, '61; disc. sur. cer., Aug.

28, 63.

Cowan, Jn. ; July 5, *6i ; disc sur. cer.

Corans, Jn. ; Sept. 12, '61 ; trans. V. R. C, Sept. i, ^6^.

Cress, Dan'l; July 29, 61 ; "

Critchlow, A. W. ; July 5, '61 ; died at N. Y., Oct. 2.

'62.
Critchlow, J. W. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill>

June 27, '62.
Cornelius, T. J. ; July 29, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill,

June 27, '62.
Conders, Jn. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Bull Run, Aug.

30, '62.
Dodds, Jasper P. ; July 12, 61 ; died at Richmond, July

18, '62, of wds. received at Gaines' Mill.

240 In the Ranks.

Dodds, W. F. ; July 29, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., Oct. 7, '62.
Deer, Jac. ; July 5, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., March 11, '63.
Divinney, J. G. ; Sept. 21, '61 ; disc. sur. cer, May 9, '62.
Elliott, J. P.; July 5, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64; died — .
Fleming, T. H.; July 5, '61; trans. 190th; must, out

with Co., June 28, '65. vet.
Frail, M. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill, June 27,

'62.
Fry, W. M. ; July 5, '61 ; died at Washington, D. C,

May 31, '62.
Graham, D. W. ; Sept. 21, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., Aug, 18,

•62.
Gilleland, R. S. ; Feb. 10, '64; trans. 190th ; pris. Aug.

19, '64; not accounted for.
Gilleland, W. ; Feb. 10, '64; trans. 190th; pris. Aug.

19, '64; not accounted for.
Gilpatrick, M. ; March 17, '64 ; trans. 190th; pris. Aug.

19, '64; disc. July 5, '65.
Gibson, Israel; March 17, '64; trans. 190th; pris. Aug.

19, '64; disc. July 5, '65.
Graham, D. W. ; Aug. 19, '61 ; trans. V. R. C, Sept. i,

'63.
Greer, J. A.; July 5, '61 ; trans. V. R. C., Sept. 9, '63.
Hussleton, G. W.; July 5, '61; pris. May 5, 64; disc.

Dec. 22, 64.
Haslett, S. F. ; Sept. 10, '61; disc. sur. cer., Nov. 21,

'62.
Haslett, J. B.; March 3, '62; trans. V. R. €., Sept. i,

'63.
Hare, Peter; July 12,61; trans. 190th; pris. Aug. 19,

'64; shot Sahs., N. C, Dec. 22, '64, vet.
Hoyt, Oscar C.; Sept. 21, '61 ; trans. V. R. C., Sept.

I. '^y

M USTER - ROLLS. 24 1

Johnson, J. B. ; July 25, '61 ; died May 30, '62 ; bur.

M. A. C, D. C.
Johnston, Vernon; July 5, 61 ; died July 9, '6I0
Kenedy, Alex.; July 29/61; disc. sur. cer., Feb. 9,

•63.
Kenedy, W. H. H. ; July 5, '61 ; trans. 190th ; pris.

May 5, '64 ; must, out June 28, '65, vet.
Kalb, Eckart; March 10, '62; trans. 190th; wd., loss

of arm. May 30, 64.
List, Wm. ; July 14, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Lyon, Sm. A. ; July 24*61 ; k. Bull Run, Aug. 30, '62.
Leonard, Jas. ; July 5, '61 ; deserted Aug. 31, '61.
M'Nair, Robt. A.; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Mushrush, B. L. ; July 5, '61 ; wd. May 5, '64; must.

out with Co.
M'Donald, D. (i) ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
M'Donald, D. (2) ; July 16, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., June 25,

'63.
M'Aleer, B. W. ; Feb. 24, '62; trans. 190th; pris, Aug.

19, '64 ; not accounted for.
M'Bride, R. E. ; Dec. 15, '63; trans. 190th; must, out

June 28, '65.
M'Comb, J. H.; Feb. 9, '64; trans. 190th; pris. Aug.

19, '64; not accounted for.
Miller, Ed.; Feb, 25, '64; trans. 190th; must, out with

Co., June 28, '65.
M'Curdy, S. R. ; Sept. 8, '61 ; trans, to Co. B., May i,

'62 ; disc. sur. cer., June 4, '62.
M'Knight, J. ; Sept. 12, '61 ; trans. V. R. C, Feb. 5, '64.
Moreland, C. L. ; Apr. 22, '64; trans. 190th'; killed at

Petersb., June 24, '64; bur. in Poplar Grove Cem.,

grave 173, sec. C. div. D.
M'Cullough, M. F, ; July 6, '61 ; killed May 5, '64.
16

242 In the Ranks.

Moore, Wm. ; July 16, '61 ; killed at Gaines' Mill, June

27, '62.

M'Kinney, J. A. ; July 5, '61 ; killed at Bull Run, Aug.

30. '62.
M'Neal, W. R. ; Sept. 8, '61 ; died Oct. 25, '62, of wds.

rec'd at Bull Run, Aug. 30, '62 ; bur. M. A. C, D. C.
Nixon, J. E. ; July 6, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., March 28, '64.
Overdoff, W. C. ; March 31, '64 ; trans. 190th; killed

Oct. '64.
Parker, S. C. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Pisor, D. W. ; July 16, '61 ; died Nov. 16, '62 ; buried

Camp Parole, Hospital Cem. Annapolis, Md.
Pherson, R. J. ; July 29, '61 ; killed at Bull Run, Aug.

30, '62.
Rodgers, H. ; July 16, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., June 23, '62.
Richardson, W. ; March 21, '62; trans. 190th; wd. at

Fred. ; must, out June 28, '65, vet.
Robertson, J.; Feb. 16, '64; trans. 190th; pris. Aug. 19,

'64; died—.
Rice, T. G. ; Feb. 13, '64; trans. 190th; pris. Aug. 19,

'64 ; died Dec. 23, '64, Salisbury, N. C.
Rosenberry, S. J. ; Feb. 24, '62; died June 23, '62 ; bur.

Mil. As. Cem., D. C.
Rouch, L. ; Oct. 5, '61 ; died at home, Butler County,

Sept. 8, '63.
Smith, S. F. ; Sept. S, '61 ; disc, sur cer., Aug. i, '62.
Shearer, W M. ; Sept. 8, '61 ; disc. sur. cer., Aug. 27,'62.
Stevenson, B. ; Feb. 24, '62 ; disc. sur. cer., March 25,

'62.
Snow, Alf. M. ; July 5, '61 ; trans. 190th ; pris. Aug. 19,

'64; died Salisbury, N. C, vet.
Shank, A. ; Sept. 8, '61 ; trans. 190th ; must, out June

28, '65., vet.

Muster - rolls. 243

Shank, Jn. ; Feb. 26, '64 ; trans. 190th ; not accounted

for.
Silvers, M. ; Sept. 21, '61 ; trans. V. R. C.
Stanley, J. S. ; March 31, '64; trans. 190th; wd. May

30, '64; not accounted for.
Sinott, Wm. ; Sept. 8, '61 ; killed at Bull Run, Aug. 29,

•62.
Summerville, J. H. ; July 5, '61 ; died at Annapolis,

Md., Feb. 28, '63, of wds. rec'dat Fred. Dec. I3,'62,
Teets, Al. ; July 5, '61 ; absent at muster out.
Thompson, R. W. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.
Thompson, G. ; July 23, '61 ; " "

Wilhamson, Hugh; July 5, '61; wd. at Fred.; absent

at muster out.
Woods, Wm. ; July 5, '61 ; died at Camp Pierpont,

Dec. 6, '61.
Young, Geo. ; Feb. 8, '62 ; disc. sur. cer., June 11, '62.

Neri B. Kinsey, Capt. ; June, i, *6i ; Brev. Maj. Oct.

I, '64; wounded Oct., '64; disc. Mar. 8, '65.
Moses W. Lucore, ist Lt. ; June i, '61 ; pris. Aug. 19,

'64 ; must, out June 28, '65.
Benj. F. Wright, 2d Lt. ; pris. Aug. 19, '64; must, out

June 28, "65.

Keeley, Sergt. ; must, out June 28, '65.

Haslett,

David C. Steen, Sergt. ; killed Aug. 19, '64 ; sec. D., 11.
Thos. H. Lindsay, Corp. ; Dec. 21, '63 ; disc. gen. ord.,

June I, '65.

244 In the Ranks.

privates.

Brown, Robt. J. ; July i6, '6i ; vet., not accounted for.
Beers, Jn. ; Mar. 17, '62; " " "

Burr, Jacob ; Feb. 25, '64 ; " **

Bruniiermer, George ; Feb. 8. '62 ; ward 2 ; mus.
Brennamin, SI. ; Mar. 18, '64; pris. Aug. 19, '64; not

accounted for.
Bovard, Joseph O. ; June 8, '61 ; must, out with Co.,

June 28, '65, vet.
Conner, Wm. ; Sept. 22, '62 ; pris. Aug. 19, '64 ; disc.

gen. ord., June i, '65.
Coleman, Mike; Dec. 15, '63; must, out with Co.,

June 28, '65.
Dunn, Geo. ; Sept. 22. '62 ; disc. gen. ord., June i, '65.
Edgar, Jn. ; must, out with Co., June 28, '65, vet.
Eshelman, Abram ; Dec. 9, '63 ; died of wounds rec'd

at Petersburg, Va., June 17, '64.
Fulkerson, Smith; Mar. 31, '62 ; disc, at expiration of

term.
Fleming, Thorn. H. ; July 5, '61 ; must, out with Co.,

June 28, '64, vet.
Fuller, Jn. A. ; pris. Aug. 19, '64 ; died at Salisbury

N. C, Dec. 12, '65.
Fairbanks, D. ; pris. Aug 19, '64 ; died Nov. 24, '64.
Gilpatrick, Mark; Mar. 15, '64; pris. Aug. 19, '64, to

Oct. 8, '64 ; disc. July 5, '65.
Gilleland, Robt. S. ; Feb. 10, '64 ; not accounted for.
Gilleland, Wilson ; *'

Gibson, Israel; Mar. 17, '64; *' " "

Hare, Peter; July 12, '61 ; pris. Aug. 19, '64; died at

Salisbury, N. C, Jan. 30, '65, vet.
Harris, Abram; Feb. 3, '64 ; disc. gen. ord., May 16, '65.

Muster - rolls. 245

Harris, Wm. ; Feb. 3, '64 ; must, out with Co., June

28, '65.
Kalb, Eckart ; Mar. 10, '62 ; wounded, with loss of

arm, May 30, '64.
Kenedy, W. H. H. ; July 5, '61 ; pris. May 5, '64 ;

must, out with Company, June 28, '65, vet.
Klinglesmith, C. ; Feb. 5, '64; must, out with Co.,

June 28, '65.
Lewis, Wm. ; Oct. 25, '64; disc. gen. ord., June 5, '65.
Lyons, Owen; Dec. 21, '63 ; trans. V. R. C.
M'Aleer, Bernard W. ; Feb. 24, '62 ; not accounted for.
M'Bride, R. E. ; Dec. 15, '63 ; must, out with Co.
M'Comb, Jas. H. ; Feb. 9, '64; pris. Aug. 19. '64; not

accounted for.
M'Guire, Robt. R. ; June 8, '61 ; mustered out with

Company, vet.
M'Guire, Jas. N. ; June 8, '61 ; must, out with Com-
pany, vet., wounded.
Miller, Ed. ; Feb. 25, '64; must, out with Company.
Nicholson, Jn. ; Dec. 31, '63 ; pris. Aug. 19, '64, to Feb.

7, '65 ; disc. June 12, '65.
Overdoff, Wm. C. ; Mar. 31, '64 ; killed Oct., '64.
Payne, Wm. : Oct. 20, '61 ; disc, at expiration of term.
Rice. Thos. G. ; Feb. 13. '64 ; pris. Aug. 19, '64; died

at Salisbury, N. C.
Richardson, Wm. ; I\Iar. 21, '62; must, out with Co.,

wounded.
Robertson, Jas.; Feb. 16, '64; pris. Aug. 19, '64; died

at Salisbury, N. C, Dec. 23, '64.
Rutter, Wm. ; wounded at Petersburg, June 18, '64;

died July 15, '64.
Snow, Alf M. ; July 5, '61 ; pris. Aug. 19, '64 ; died

at Salisbury, N. C, vet.

246 In the Ranks.

Shank, Andrew; Sept. 8, '61 ; must, out with Co., vet.,

wounded.
Shank, Jn. : Feb. 26, '64 ; not accounted for.
Scott, W. D.; June 8, '61 ; disc. Jan. 23, '65, vet.
Stohker, Abram; Dec. 21, '63; pris. Aug. 19, '64, to

Jan. 23, '64; disc. June 12, '65.
Sweeney, Chas. ; June 8, '61 ; pris. Aug. 19, '64, to

March i, '65; disc. June 24, '65.
Thiel, Anthony ; Feb. 4, '62 ; disc. gen. ord., June 2, '65.
Walb, Leonidas C. ; June 21, '61; must, out with

Company, vet.
Youler, Benj. F. ; June 20, '61 ; must, out with Co., vet.

GUN WORKS,

*" Pittsbnrgli,
Pa.

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Guns, $8 to $150. Single Guns, $3 to $20. Rifles, $8 to
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NEW EDITION.

WOTIONA^MuPPLEMEHTk

Contains 1928 Pages,
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4G00 New Words

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Biographical

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Published by G.&C.MERRIAIVl, Springfield, Mass. 9700 NanieS.

Western Reserve Seminary,

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Organs and Pianos.

BEA1TY

ORGANS & PIANOS.

Orgrane. Church, Chapel and Parlor, S30 to
Sl,OOi>.3 to33 Stops. l»lanororte8.Qrand,Square&
Upright,g»lS.';toSl,«OO.Sentoii trial warranted.
Illustrated Catalogue with Steel-Plate FRKE;.
Address or call on Daniel F. Beatty, Washington, N. J.

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CABINET ORGANS.
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n-ee. Those desiring to buy are requested to visit my
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Address or call on Daniel F. Beatty, Washington, N

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1% 19 #1 A M fi»l^ stops, 4 Sets Reeds, ONLY $65.
IE K l« M fl ^nAN0S,$125 up.Paperfree. Address
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Organs. Church, Chapel and Parlor, 830 to

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Organs and ;]g>iANOs.

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fri^p-. Tlinse desiring to bnv-nre rf>nue«:tPd to visit my
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free. Those desiring to buy are requested to visit my
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Address or call on Daniel F. Beatty, Washington, M. 1.

il4 Stops, 4 Sets Reeds. 01TL7 $6B.

JPIAN0S,$125 up.Paper free, Addrea

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Organs amd ;]P>ianos.

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Organs. C'hHi-ch, Chape! and Parlor, g:«0 to
Sl,0<>J9,a t«»:jt5Sto8)N. l»lsti«orortes.Gi\-\nd,Sf!u;ire&
Upnt'l'it,Sr!l*^5 i ii Wl .«;««.Senit on ( rial \varB-:tiited.
Biicssitratvii Catalogue wiiti SteeJ-S'Sate fr'KliK.
Address or cail on Dariie! F. Beatty, Vvashington, N. J.

0BQAW8

14 Stops, 4 Sets Eeeds, 01TL7 $65.

PI Alios, £125 up.Paperfree. Address

Daaieir. Beatty, wasiiingtoa, N.J.

BEATTY

ORGANS & PIANOS.

Organs. Cburchy Cltapel and Parlor, 830 to

Sl,©Oi>,9 to 33 Stops. Pianoforte8»Grand,Square&
U plight, gs 1 SS to s? I , (iSOO.Scnt «>n 1 rial wars'.inted.
Illustrated (Dataios;'«« v/ith yieel-Plato FKKK.

Address or cali on Daniel F. Beai^, Washington, N. J.

BEATTY

CABINET ORGANS.

mSMSJ^S^SJl^^^^ ATV1> PAKT.OR.

BEATTY PiANOFORTEa

^GKA]VI5 SQUAHE A7V» TTPRIOHtT

**£^*."']'I''^^^'*^«^t*^st-'''o»<''' Instnimontin the World.
ORSA^S*'^**'-^***' '^''^<>' ^o JSl.OOO, a to 83 Stops.
'^"^"'''^S'lAlVO!^, ^ISri UD fo »1,«00. Every in-
strument ftilly "Warranted. Sent on trial. Beautiful
Illustrated Oatalo^'ue and t^teel-I»late £ng:ravins
free. Those desirinffto buy are requested to visit my
liietory here, and select the instrument in person.
Address or call on Daniel F. Beatty, Washinqton, N. J.