Memoirs of Alexander Wallace Givin, 114th Pennsylvania
The election of Abraham Lincoln as President of the United States, during this year provoked the South to anger, and they “Rebelled”, which brought on Secession of the Southern States and then caused a declaration of War by our President and the calling out of 60,000 men for 90 days. Brother William being unmarried and patriotic was ready to obey the call of out President. And as our Navy had been in need of men, he enlisted at 1861 in the Marine Corps. Serving to the end of his enlistment in 1865, which was the end of the war. Was in the taking of Fort Fisher by Army and Navy. Also aboard the Minnesota in the great battle in Hampton Roads, with the Rebel ram Merrimac.
The 90,000 men not being sufficient to quell the disturbance, the
President called for 300,000 for 3 years. He
was assuming great proportions, continued during 1861.
And as our Army advanced, needed men for protection.
300,000 men were called for in 1862.
And it was under this call that I enlisted July 22, 1862.
A singular dream or vision came to me the night before while asleep in my
little home. We thought while in conversation with my wife that George
Washington appeared to me looking in my eye.
Said as he raised his hand, in a solemn manner ”This country must and
shall be free.” Then vanished, when I awoke and told the dream to my wife.
I said that means for me to go and fight for my country and my flag.
My wife said, “go” and “God be with you”.
Enlisted the next day, Co F, 114th Regt PA Vol Infantry,
Zouave de Afrique or what was known as Collis Zouaves.
Capt. Frank A. Eliot a wool merchant of North Front St Phila, whose
residence was in Germantown, Phila. The
Captain made me 2nd Sergeant with authority to have a recruiting
office in 21st Ward. Opened
me in Leyecum Mall, Roxborough, and Phila where I had enlisted 30 men all good
brave and true.
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| Sgt. Andrew Givin, 114th Pennsylvania Volunteers |
We were encamped at Nicetown Phila. On Sabbath night, August 31, orders came to us to hurry to the defense of Washington because the Rebels were marching upon it. We broke camp about midnight, marching out by daybreak to Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon. This was done by the women and men of the neighborhood of Front and Washington Ave, Phila. The Coopers were a family who made barrels and had a very large shop. When a Regiment came to Philadelphia, a bell would be rung. The workers would move their work outside and hurriedly put up tables. The women of the neighborhood hurried to the place with table linens and edibles and it was surprised to see thousands of soldiers fed on their way to the front. While afterward in the field, when I would say that I came from Phila, many men from other states would say: “God Bless Philadelphia,” for there we received a hearty meal and a warm welcome. The scene of parting is too sad to here relate and will draw the curtain of forgetfulness over that sad day. Father, Mother, Brother, Father-in-law, mother- in –law. With my dear wife and dear little son Rob. We arrived in Baltimore in a drenching rain. We were fed by the citizens, then spread our blankets on the cobblestones, but before going to sleep, our Captain found us a place to sleep in a storehouse. Awake early next day, had breakfast best we could. In meanwhile, I had a picture taken of myself in full uniform standing with my gun at a parade rest.
We boarded the
cars and were soon on our way to Washington.
Taken to a refreshment saloon, had supper spread over blankets on the
ground alongside the capitol and with the starry sky above us soon fell asleep.
We were guarding the capitol of our nation and beginning our army
experience. Such as one never to be
forgotten as long as we lived. The
stars silently watched over us while we slept and a good God in whose case
helped us as in the hollow of his hand. Then
began an experience of an army life, an experience to be remembered as long as I
live and the record of which will be handed down to my children and to the
generations to come. The nation’s
capitol was in danger and we were there to save it and drive back the enemy to
our country and our dear old flag.
Our Regiment 114
Pa Vols was ordered out 7th Street to Fort Slocum and from there the
Battle of Antietam, Md. We did not
participate in the battle, although we were on hand ready if called for battle,
we were not yet fully equipped. As
the troops passed us going into battle we cheered them all we could.
Our army was victorious and with a great loss of lives in both Armies.
The enemy retreated to the Southside of the Potomac River, our own army
following closely after. On the 13th
of December, the Battle of Fredericksburg, VA was fought in while our Regiment
took a conspicuous part. We were
attached to the 1st Brigade, 1st Division, and 3rd Army
Corps. Our regiment was on the
right of the Brigade (first regiment) and carried the right General Guide Flag.
We crossed the Rappahannock River on pontoon bridge under a heavy
artillery fire from the enemy. When
we reached the other side we were in columns of four.
Then formed company front, myself being Second Sergeant of my company
brought me on the left of Company as the guild upon whom the other companies
guided as
well as the other regiments.
As we reached the
top of the hill, our troops were being driven back by the enemy.
We halted, unslung knapsacks, and formed battle front and then forward
double quick with a chap, charged the enemy, driving them back, capturing
hundreds of them and recapturing our own Randolph’s Battery.
This was our first baptism of fire, but boys behaved splendidly in fact
like old veterans. We were halted
on the crest of the hill on the other side as the ground slopes to the other
side from Bowling Green Road. Our
company was ordered out on the skirmish line.
Colonel Collis laid is hand on my shoulder and said “Sergeant Givin, do
you see that tree pointing to a clump of trees and bushes.
When you reach that point, halt and drop.
Hold that position while we did from 3pm on Saturday until 9pm Sunday.”
Upon reaching the point designated by Col Collis, we did not need an
order to drop for security had we reached the place at bottom of a ploughed
field when down every man fell as the fire from the enemy swept over us.
We had no blankets and in many cases no overcoats, they being without
Knapsacks, when they were unslung before the charge.
When we consider
the fact that it was the month of December it was awful to have to stay there
and freeze or to be shot to death if trying to gain a more comfortable position.
One of my men, John F Page early Sunday morning in shifting his position
raised his head and received a ball in his forehead, which placed him hors de
combat. We thought him dead and
consulted where best to bury the body. When
a Flag of truce gave us an opportunity to carry him to the rear when he revived,
was sent off to a hospital there is where he died.
About Sunday 9 we were relieved by Co B crawling
among the bushes back to the Regiment where we rested until morning, but without
eating for nearly four days and that in the wintertime only hardtack and onions,
but we were grateful even for that. Tuesday
night we were quietly relieved and retreated over the pontoons at Franklin’s
Crossing. All back of us were
captured, even our own band who was separated from us were captured and with
them their beautiful German Silver Instruments presented by the citizens of
Germantown, Phila, Pa.
The Movement
(Fredericksburg or Mud March) was apparently unsuccessful with a great loss of
life and of intense suffering caused by the cold weather and many like ourselves
without comfortable shelter for the winter, but wonderful grit we got safely
through and by spring were ready for another battle.
May 1st,
1863. We left our camp at Falmouth
VA, marched near Fredericksburg, remained overnight.
Early the next morning, we left for the right, crossed the Rappahannock
River at United States Ford. This
was Friday afternoon, I should judge about 3 o’clock.
Our Brigade was in position with our Regiment on the right.
When a battery of the enemy opened on us, taking one man from each
Regiment. Six Regiments in line.
The man in our regiment was George M Floury of my own company F, one whom
I had known from boyhood who enlisted with me.
A brave good soldier. We had our arms stacked, not thinking for a moment
of an attack when the enemy opened fire on us with their artillery.
Orders were given to fall in line and to take arms and make an about face
marching two or three hundred paces to the rear which would take us away from
the brow of the hill, it being an exposure to the enemy.
When George Goung was stuck down, I ran to his assistance, cutting off
his accoutrements with a large sharp knife that I carried, then called two
stretcher bearers one of them was George Goung brother, member of company A of
our regiment. We lifted George
carefully and pout him on the stretcher. His
right leg was fearfully mangled. I
bade George be of good courage and bear up manfully and ordered the carriers to
the hospital, which was at the Chancellors Ville House.
His leg was amputated below the knee.
The enemy set fire to the hospital with that shot.
George was carried out and laid under a tree where he remained for two
days without any attention. Under a
flag of truce, he was brought into our lines and at the hospital where he
underwent another operation. The
leg was amputated above the knee, but being so weak and exhausted from suffering
the loss of so much blood, he succumbed. His
dear mother was with him in his last hours.
As he lay on his cot in the hospital, I have saw anything that looked
more like a beautiful piece of marble then he did.
His body was brought to Roxborough and lies beside that of his wife and
child. A noble life given to his
country. Buried in Leverington
Cemetery Roxborough.
After George was
carried off the field and the battle began in earnest, that was on Friday
afternoon. All through the night we
were ordered hither and thither, wearied and worn out without rest.
Day dawned this was Saturday, the battle continued.
We succeeded in driving the enemy. We
were able to make a cup of coffee and with hard crackers and fat pork managed to
eat a meal, the first in 30 hours.
We were ordered forward at the double-quick march.
We were driving the enemy, and felt quite elated and cheered mightily.
We were doing well until our Eleventh Corps broke and let the enemy in.
Our Brigade was cut off from our 3rd Corps; this was late on
Saturday night. Then began the
famous midnight charge in which Gen. Stonewall Jackson, the Confederate General
was killed. They say by his own
men, but I truly believe by our men, for we were desperate and determined to get
out and we did. But it was a hard
and bloody hand to hand fight, but we were successful, as we emerged from the
woods, General Hooker, our Commander, was forming his line with the 5th
Corps in front, but before we reached the line, we were ordered to charge the
enemy who were hurling themselves upon us.
Never was there greater pluck and bravery displayed then at this time.
The enemy was driven back in disarray and a number of them were taken
prisoner. One of the Johnnies, I
took myself. I made him lie at my
feet while we poured a volley into the retreating enemy.
I should have sent him back to our rear, but I was too sure of success.
There was a dreadful; roar of artillery and of musketry.
We were to be driven back at all hazards.
It was dreadful. Now our
brave men fell. Our brave Captain
Frank A. Eliot went down. Major
Joseph R. Chandler, Lieut Cullen and a hundred or more went in the holocaust,
their bodies never being recovered. We
fell back, leaving our dead and wounded. I
never thought of my prisoner. I
asked his regiment, he told me the 43rd Georgia.
Rally round the flag boys; the order came from Major Birney, an aid to
Gen. Birney, his brother of our 1st Division Commander.
This was at the edge of the woods, but the enemy came on our flank with
such fire that we were compelled to fall back leaving our dead and wounded on
the field.
As we ascended to the top of the hill, General Hooker, Commander of the
Army had his 5th Corps formed. We
took position in the rear of first line, making us in the 2nd line
where we remained and assisted the artillerymen to putout their pieces, their
horses all being killed and wounded. We
lost many of our men here. It was
in front of the Chancellorsville House. An
orderly came galloping up to Colonel Collis with an order to change position of
the regiment. One of the men Tommy
Waler of Co D ran up to hear what the order was when a bullet struck him sending
him spinning like a top and he yelled, “oh, Capt Eddy come to me” his
Captain, but the Captain said if he had been paying attention to his own
business, he would not have been struck. Tommy
was carried off, never knew what became of him.
We changed from the front to the rear of Chancellorsville House and a hot
place it was. As we were relieving
the regiment, one of the Captains gave the order to “fall in”.
No sooner had the order left his lips than a solid shot struck him and
tore him all to pieces. This
was just in front of me. Our
regiment was placed in support of a battery and were ordered toile down which we
did and our faces as close to the earth as we could get them.
My position in the rear of the company was somewhat exposed by ammunition
wagons running to the gun with ammunition.
As I changed my position to a place in front of the company back of a
large tree at the front of what were a number of knapsacks piled which made sort
of breastworks. An Irishman of the
69th New York came and planted himself alongside of me.
He should have been with his regiment out in the first line.
Directly a shell struck the bundle of knapsacks and sent them flying over
the Irishmen and myself. He let a
yell out of him that might startle the whole Rebel Army and it provoked me so
that he had a clear out and get to his own regiment.
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| 114th Pennsylvania, Collis' Zouaves by Don Troiani |
Colonel Collis
became somewhat exhausted and was carried off the field.
On our falling back early on Sunday morning from where we were cut off by
the enemy driving the 11th Corps.
The enemy was on both of our flanks and were pouring lead into us as hard
as they could. We were coming
double- quick column of fours. I
was on the right flank. A bullet
passed over my breast, struck William Colbridge of my company in the right arm
passing through it and under the jaw and through the jaw and the top of the
cheekbone. This was early in the
morning, when we were shifting our position sometime later in the day.
I saw this man Colbridge lying, as I supposed dead. When he was struck,
he dropped his gun and exclaimed. “Oh, Oh” I took out my large knife and cut
everything off that would encumber him. His
blood spurted over me. He was hors
de combat and as I had a horror of being taken prisoner, fell back with the
regiment and did some great fighting after that.
I sent Simon
Nelson and William J. Raymor to carry his body down to the river and bury it
after taking out what things he had in his pockets.
His head was swelled as large as two heads.
When these two men carried him to the riverbanks, he revived and they
took him to the battlefield hospital, where he was sent to Germantown Hospital,
Philadelphia. He recovered and was
mustered out and lived many years. I
attended his funeral and made an address relating the wounding on the
battlefield of Chancellorsville, May 3rd, 1863 and of detailing two
men to carry his body down to the riverbank and bury it, but how he recovered
and to die at home. The battle
continued all day and was very fierce. The
loss of life was great. Throwing up
breastworks of logs gathered hurriedly in the woods, we sheltered ourselves best
we could from the shot and shell of the enemy.
The rain falling fast drenched us to the skin.
I had a piece of shelter tent measures 4x6x4x6 with buttons.
Lieutenant George P Anderson of our company also had a piece of shelter
tent, which we buttoned together and with the aid of two muskets with bayonets
jabbed into the ground, made a shelter from the rain, butt not from the bullets.
Lieutenant Anderson, Captain Harry E Eddy of Co D and myself crawled into
this shelter. Tired, wet, hungry
and disheartened, My Captain and many of our men gone, my tent mates among the
number. It occurred to me that it
was the Sabbath day, the first time in my life that I had forgotten the Sabbath
day, for my parents were Scotch Presbyterians and very strict observers of the
Sabbath day. I took from my jacket
pocket my testament, one that my dear wife gave me and which I carried with me
as my companion. I turned to the 14th chapter of John, first verse,
for I was discouraged and these words brought me great joy and comfort.
Lest not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe in me.
Lieutenant Anderson saw that I was having good from my little book, so he
said, “Sergeant, let me have your book to read.”
So I gave it to him and he read and as he did, both officers acknowledged
that they had not lived as they should have lived, but that here after they
would live good lives if spared to get out of this fearful battle.
Both were spared, but poor Eddy was killed in front of Petersburg, a
bullet struck him in the forehead plowing around his head and entering the back
of the head. He lingered in great
agony for 4 or 5 days and died at City Point, VA while I was away from camp
taking 830 Rebel prisoners to Point Lookout, Maryland.
On Tuesday
morning, just at the break of day, we were ordered to fall back to do it quickly
to hold our tin cups so not to make any noise.
We were in retreat and had to get on the other side of the Rappahannock
River. The heavy rains, the many
horses and teams running over the ground made the mud knee deep and with the
trees cut down to make passage way for the wagons and artillery, made walking
almost impossible, but with the feet of river to cross in front of us and the
Rebel army back of us and although footsore, tired, wet, weary and hungry, we
came in sight of the pontoons. Thousands
of troops were waiting to cross and even in that trying hour, it was wonderful
to see what effect military discipline had upon men.
Every man had to wait his turn and I have in after years when in a trying
ordeal remembered the re-crossing of the army at the battle of Chancellorsville,
May 5-6, 1863. It was a sad day for
us, for we left many of our brave comrades either dead or dying, wounded or
prisoner in the hands of the enemy. Once
over the river, we were ordered back to camp, passing by the 99th PA
I was hailed by an old friend who had been a member of my Leverington Section
no. 33 Cadets of Temperance by the name of George Roberts, who prevailed upon me
to have a cup of hot coffee. I
accepted his kind offer and enjoyed his hospitality and never in my life did
anything taste so good as that hardtack and that hot coffee.
George has gone to his reward, but as long as I live, I will remember
this big-hearted boy.
The rain cleared
and the troops made their way to their various camps.
We called it going home. But,
my how different. How loved ones at
home would run to meet us? Now they
would bring us dry clothing, dry shoes and stockings, would soon have us sitting
down to a good meal. But, no.
Never we were defeated, disheartened and discouraged.
Oh, what a dreary place that old camp ground was.
I went to where my old tent stood. The
old logs were there. I had a piece
of shelter tent, but my tent mates were gone, wounded and prisoners, Thomas
Collins, and Matthew Chadwick. I
called Corporal Jack Shuster to me and said, “ Corporal as you have no tent
mates, come with me, and he did.” He
was a good soldier and a Christian man and we lived together for many months.
I had him made a Sergeant. While
we were getting our tent in order, an order came from Regimental Headquarters to
report to Lieut. Col. Frederick Cavada, commander of the regiment.
Col Collis being under arrest for cowardice.
Col. Cavada announced that I would act as Sergeant Major in place of
William Blanford who had been sent to the hospital at Alexandria, VA and was
afterward discharged and I was made a full Sergeant Major by Major E.R. Bowen.
We were beginning military life anew.
Muster rolls were made out. We
were beginning to hear from those who were made prisoner.
But the names of George Newell and of George Rutter these had no
response. They were swept of with
thousands of other brave men whose bodies were never found.
Captain Eliot was killed and his body never recovered, but we were
informed that the enemy took his watch and memorandum book and sent them to his
wife. I myself met a rebel
prisoner, after the Gettysburg fight who asked me if I knew Captain Eliot.
I happened to be passing by where the rebel prisoners were corralled.
We called it the “Bull Pen.” He
saw by my uniform that I was a Zouave officer.
When he mentioned Captain Eliot’s name, I was all attention.
He told me that when he found Capt Eliot, he was lying on his face.
He raised him up and put him on his back, and then he searched his
pockets, taking his pocketbook and other valuables.
That on his march to Gettysburg he had inquired of many people if they
knew Capt. Eliot. No one seemed to
know him, so he gave these things to a young lady whom he met asking her to
forward to Captain Eliot’s wife. The
name of this Confederate I have forgotten, he gave me his name and what
regiment, but have long ago lost it. Poor
fellows, by this time I suppose he has gone over to the majority.
We had a First
Lieutenant by the name of George P. Anderson, but he left us after the battle,
saying he was struck in the foot with a shell.
He never came back. We had a
2nd Lieutenant by the name of Alfred Stecle, who was reported
wounded, but never came back. This
left our company without officers. John
R Waterhouse was the First Sergeant. I
was the Second Sergeant, acting Sergeant Major.
We spent the time drilling and getting ready for more active service for
we were in for the war and we wanted it finished and finished honorable.
It is in the month of June 1863, the Army of the Potomac is in motion.
The Rebel Army of Northern Virginia is making for Pennsylvania.
Our orders are to follow them and prevent them if possible from crossing
the Potomac. We are after them hot,
haste. They gave us the slip
however and crossed over and we were in hot pursuit.
Their cavalry (can’t make out word) on and get into Carlisle, PA.
Then infantry get as far as Gettysburg.
By hard marching long and dusty roads, made so by the two armies coming
and going over the country from Culpepper to Alexandria made marching awful.
The day we crossed Manassas Plain and Bull Run Creek, the dust was a foot
deep and as fine as powder. The
men, many of them dropped from exhaustion were gathered up in the ambulances.
Sergeant John Shuster fell like one dead.
I called the hospital steward John Fields.
He came to me and gave Sergeant some medicine.
He revived and we soon went into camp, thirty-four miles a day with
nothing to eat but hardtack and fat pork. Into
Maryland, then into Pennsylvania in passing through a small town in Maryland, I
think the name is Ledyville and we were very hungry.
I left the ranks, being Sergeant Major, I could do so much better then
one of the men. Saw some soldiers
leave a home with their hats full of very nice biscuits.
Very boldly, I opened the door and asked the lady of the house, if she
had anymore of those biscuits? She
said, “No, they are all gone.” Then
I asked for bread? But she “said all gone.”
Then I turned away sorrowfully, saying if I was only at my home in
Philadelphia a dear wife and mother would soon supply me with food to eat.
Quickly she replied, I have half part of a lady cake, you can have it and
gave it to me. I gave her all the
money that I had -3 cents and thanked her, soon was with the boys in the ranks.
Sergeant Joseph DeHaven and Thomas P. Wilkins, and that night when we
went into camp, we had a feast of good things, other than fat pork and hardtack.
Many people are of the opinion that the soldiers went into houses and
took provisions. It might have been
done by some unscrupulous men, but not true soldiers of the United States.
Whenever we passed through a city or town, we would fall into column of
fours, then into sections of double fours- 16 men then into company front.
When jogging along on the road, there was no attention paid
to the manner or order. Sometimes
the men in the left or rear would be on the right or at the head, but when the
bugle would sound a halt, the column would step, then the bugle would sound
assembly, all would fall into line column of fours.
With flags unfurled, they being carried on the march in oil clothe cases.
The bandsmen had difficulty in keeping their instruments clean and bright
as well as the drummer, in keeping good sound drumbeats.
It was surprising how our men, dusty and dirty from marching ten/
fifteen/ twenty miles or sometimes more in passing through some of those towns
in Maryland would in a very few minutes, be as clean and as neat as if preparing
for a parade along Chestnut St at home.
At Fredrick,
Maryland, we left our sick and those who were unable to march among the number
being our Adjutant Lieutenant Frank G Gurfan who was unable to march as he was
suffering from rheumatism, he never rejoined the regiment, but on his recovery
secured an appointment in the Regular Army.
Lieutenant John S. Crawford f Co I, was acting as Quartermaster, was also
appointed acting Adjutant ands as I was acting as Sergeant Major.
Much of the work on the mach of the adjutant fell upon me.
The Lieutenant Colonel Cavada was in command of the Regiment.
Colonel Collis being away at home.
It was on June 30th or July 1st, that e halted near
Emmittsburg, MD for a rest and to get something to eat.
While doing this, the rain came down upon us.
Fortunately, we had put up our shelter tents.
This was done by buttoning two pieces together, take two muskets with
bayonets, jab them into the ground four or five feet apart, stretch the shelter
from gun to gun holding by the hammer of each gun.
This made an excellent shelter and was called by the men a “dog tent”
or by the government a “shelter.”
As the rain
cleared, we looked out and behold our regiment had gone.
The noise of the rain on our little tent was what prevented us from
hearing the bugle call to fall in. However
we were not long in getting to our regiment and taking our place as Sergeant
Major at the head of the column. Soon
we heard the distant rumble of artillery and musketry, but we did not know were
our order was formed, passing along the Emmittsburg Road.
We passed very close to a house, in the doorway stood a woman cheering us
on. As I passed, she said “Boys,
give it to those rebels, whip them well” I said all right Auntie, we will do
our best. When returning, we passed
by the same house and the same women standing at the door, applauding the troops
“said Auntie. Didn’t we whip them” she said “Yes in deed, you did.
You did it well?” The
roads were strewn with broken wagons, dead horses, broken pieces of artillery
and spiked guns. In passing the
Catholic College at Emmetsburg, many of our men sided the stonewalls or fences
and it was very amusing to see them returning with guns slung or on their backs
and a large loaf of bread under each arm climbing over into the road, soon to be
surrounded by heir comrades begging for only a piece.
So we marched the sound of cannonading, farm wagons were plentiful.
Fleeing away as fast as possible, I said to a farmer who had his family
in his wagon. “Look here
neighbor, now would you like to have an overcoat?”
He said, “ I don’t want an overcoat, but I will save it for you” So
I threw it to him. Suppose he is
saving it for me, as I never saw him afterwards that I knew.
The weather was very hot during the daytime, but quite cool during the
nights. Consequently, we did not
want to part with our overcoats, but kept them just as long as we could.
It was very amusing to see the boys cut about an inch from the tail of
the overcoat everyday, so as to make it lighter to carry.
Poor fellow, many of them cut so short.
Then they had the appearance of roundabouts or jackets.
The roads were strewn with castaway clothing; anything considered surplus
was thrown away. Many say
humorously, they threw away postage stamps to make their load lighter.
On we hurried, the roar of battle grew louder and louder.
The sun was going down on the western horizon.
We turned off the Emmittsburg Road to the right by a small frame house,
the home of a shoemaker. The man
himself sat in the doorway nursing a little child about three years of age.
This same house and grounds were the next day a terrible place of
slaughter. Many of these very men
who passed this house at this time, lay dead and dying round and about it.
But on we went until halted in the rear of the 12th Corps.
There was a lull in the firing only among the pickets.
Our gallant 1st Corps had been driven back.
The brave Gen. Reynolds was killed.
Reinforcements are here. The
sun has gone down, darkness has enveloped the whole scene- two great armies are
preparing for to renew the conflict. The
greatest battle ever fought was on. Troops
were taken hither and thither, maneuvers of Corps, Divisions, Brigades,
Regiments, Companies and men all on alert.
We were shifted during the night in different positions until morning
found us on the left of Second Corps and left of the Throstle House.
As day dawned, we
were in line of battle, but we had had very little to eat and was hungry.
Gave one of my men 10 cents to get me some flour at the Throstle House.
He brought me word that they were completely sold out of everything.
However, I got my flour and soon had a fire built and understanding how
to make paste and in a hurry, soon had a tin cup of paste made and eaten.
One of my tent mates, Sergeant Joseph DeHaven also made a cup of paste
but just as he was to eat it, the battle opened and poor fellow had to throw it
away, in a few hours, he was in eternity. I
t was our custom, for us to read a few verses of scripture and one to offer
prayer. On the march, we put our
heads together as we knelt on the ground, while we prayed.
When we arose from prayer, Sergeant DeHaven said, “Boys, this is the
last time we will pray together,” and so it was.
For the day of carnage dawned. It
was awful. One hundred pieces of
artillery opened on us. General
Daniel E. Sickles, Commander of Third Army Corps, stood behind us, our position
being on the extreme right of the Corps. He
was not mounted nor did I see any horses, excepting those of the artillery, whom
we were supporting. A man came and
spoke to the General, not knowing who he was and asked him if he knew where such
regiment was. He answered with a
smile, go up until you come to the graveyard and you will find them there.
This made our boys laugh. Just
then, the stretcher-bearers brought in one of the pickets, a Sergeant of the 51st
PA, Major Danks, commander. There
the roar of artillery and the rattle of musketry.
We held our position in the rear of Ranolph’ battery, until nearly
every horse was killed or disabled. Capt.
Randolph came riding up to the right of our regiment asking “who is in
command?” Someone announced Col.
Cavada. He said Boys, if you want
to save my battery, you had better advance in front of it.
I did not hear a command, but we met the enemy at the Sherfy house on
Emmitsburg Road where we halted for a while.
I was kneeling on one knee looking between the house and the barn.
Col Cavade was kneeling beside me. He
asked me if the Rebs were coming and I answered quickly, “bet your life they
are coming.” Jumping up waving my
sword I ran up the pathway calling to the men to fire out between the house and
barn, which they did. I remember
Joseph S Beaumont was wounded at the place, one of my Company “F” standing
loading and firing. His face was
pale; one side of it with a blue clay left him there from lying in a ploughed
field supporting a battery. Joe
said, “Give it to them boys.” "We
have them on our own ground." The
leaden bullets flew thick and fast about us as the men fell all about me.
One of the brave men to yield up his life on the pathway to the house was
Sergeant Joseph DeHaven of my company, a brave soldier and a true patriot.
He fell pierced through the heart by a rebel bullet.
Afterwards, he was buried by our pickets and I cut his name on a shingle,
put it at the head of his grave, sent word to his wife who had two neighbor men
go and dig up his body and bury it in Leverington Cemetery, Roxborough.
The rebels
advanced in two lines and in good order, until they reached the barn, when our
boys met them. Then began a
desperate conflict, men on both armies clubbing each other with their muskets.
The Rebels gained the Emmittsburg Road on our left, driving our left
back, bringing up a battery of 12 pounders, planting it in the middle of the
road opened up with double grape and canister.
I saw that it would be not wise for us to remain and told the men retreat
slowly, load and fire. Give them
what you have in your musket. Keep
in the field until reaching the small frame dwelling (shoemaker’s shop).
As we crossed the road, Col. Cavada was sitting on the back doorstep.
I said to him are you wounded? He said, ”No, but very weak.
I said to him, “Let me help you off, but he said no.
Save yourself. There was no
time to parley. Harry Stowe of my
Co F, got a ball through the leg, it caught him by the back on the walk and ran
him out the side gate. He jumped
into an empty ammunition wagon and was sent to Philadelphia where he recovered
and met me on our arrival at home. John
Guiness, Co E, Matt Bradley Co F, Thomas Wilkenson Co F is man whose faces I
remember in the thick of the fight. Matthew
Bradley kept close to me. He got
among the 12th Corps on the right.
Saw a man sitting at the bottom of a tree and said to him, “Did you see
the red legs pass this way?” No he said, but stay and have some dried apples,
which I did reach down, took one handful for Matthew and for myself.
We got to the Baltimore Pike it was dark and crowded with men.
I asked one of the men whom I was walking and talking to, what regiment?
He told me and if I remembered rightly it was the 42nd or 43rd
Georgia. There were only about 62
men left in the whole of our regiment. Capt
ER Bowen was Senior Officer. Told
him, I thought Col Cavada was captured. So
he assumed command of the Regiment. The
3rd Corps was corralled in a field on the right of Baltimore Pike.
Somewhere about 3 am, I took Sergeant Samuel Smith of Co G with me to
search for our Brigade- 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 3rd
Army Corps. Field Hospitals were
large barns and so we hunted for 3rd Corps Hospital.
We found it about daybreak. Another
sight was awful. The operating
table stood in the center of the barn and looked very much like a
slaughterhouse. Arms, hands, legs
and feet lay in piles under the table, the floor thick with blood.
The men lay in tiers on each side and the moans and grunts were fearful
to hear. The house stood near the
barn in which two women were busy attending to the wounded.
One, an elderly person, which I supposed was the mother, the younger
person, the daughter. This
farmhouse was near Taneytown Rd.
In the yard, the
dead and wounded lay so thick that if you could not take a step without stepping
on some poor fellow. On a stretcher
lay an officer dying, a Colonel of a Wisconsin Regiment.
Beside him knelt two men, one holding a candle, one an officer, the other
an enlisted man. We stood a moment
looking at this sad scene, and then passed on.
As the daylight broke through the branches of the trees so did the
bullets and shells of the enemy come crashing through, filling the air with the
most unearthly sounds that I have ever listened to.
But on we went until near Little Round Top, we found our Brigade huddled
together, in shelter of the great rocks, where we remained long enough to get
some rations. Lieutenant John S
Crawford, CO I, was acting Quartermaster and brought us rations for 359 men. At
the time, at first I remember, there was only 65 men here, but many of then were
away from us having lost their way, which was not to be wondered at for the air
was a heavy cloud of smoke and the trees coming down all about us in many cases
separated us sometimes for hours. However,
we were hungry and a sorry looking set of boys we were ragged and dirty and with
no sleep. Almost frantic, hurriedly
we cooked coffee and fried fat pork, that with hardtack made a comfortable meal,
and considering the circumstances and surroundings, we were very thankful.
One unfortunate circumstance was that a barrel of whiskey was dumped down
among our men, who soon had the head of the barrel broken in, but Capt Bowen
took charge and issued out as he thought best.
He asked me to have some, but I would not take it, but as I had part of a
bottle of Jamaican Ginger in my haversack, asked him to fill it up with whiskey
so that I might give it to the wounded men.
One of Co. K Michael Duddy got crazy drunk and made a duel at Captain
Eddy to kill him but I caught him before he reached the Captain.
Threw him to the ground by order of Capt Bowen, I tied his hands together
with a gun strap putting his arms below his knee putting a bayonet between his
arms and knees. He became very
abusive when Capt Bowen ordered me to gag him.
That is putting a bayonet in his mouth and tying it behind his head with
a gun strap. In this position, I
left him in charge of Sergeant Samuel Smith Co G to sober up.
It was too bad as Michael Duddy was a good brave soldier and sober even
to obey orders. But it was the old
devil, “whiskey.” After the war
and after Michael’s discharge, understand he lived a good steady life.
Pickett the Rebel
was making his charge on our center, and we were ordered out to the support of
Philadelphia Brigade, double-quick and away we went.
Some of the men in their eagerness to get plenty of rations filled, their
haversacks until they were bulging out and soon had to regret doing so for they
burst the bands that held them and poor fellows lost what to them was their all.
But on we went over the dead and mangled bodies of our comrades.
I lost the scabbard of my sword when I jumped over a fence into the
Emmittsburg Road. And here I will
explain a matter, which has caused some misunderstanding among our men of the
Regiment. Some declare that there
was no fence. While some that they
climbed a fence. Both are right.
For before the fight began, our pioneers rushed forward and chopped the
fence down. They succeeded in
getting one half down when they were overpowered and had to desist.
The left had no fence to climb. The
right had. So that settles that.
Well, I must have a sword and a good one too.
In the sun through the clouds of smoke among the dead and wounded, lay an
officer of the 72nd PA Baxter Fire Brigade, Philadelphia Brigade.
I think he was a First Lieutenant. He
had a new uniform and a new sword. His
name was Colwell or Caldwell. However
he was hors de combat, a ball through his breast.
Took hold of him and laid him on his back, he having fallen on his face.
Saw that he was dead, so took off his sword and belt and buckled it on
myself and jabbed my sword down along side of him: As I was about doing this, a
man lying nearby on his back with both legs shattered, asked me to prop up his
feet while I did with canteens and such other articles that could be had.
I gave him some water and a taste of whiskey and Jamaican ginger, then a
man lying at his feet asked for a drink of water, which I gave with also a taste
of whiskey and ginger. He said he
was dying, was wounded in the bowels and asked if I would send to his wife in
Maine, her picture which he handed me, then asked for it again: While he kissed
it saying, “Goodbye dear wife, goodbye” Asked him if he was prepared to die?
He looked up and said, “Yes, I never left that until now.”
Hurriedly, put the little things in my pockets, bade him goodbye and was
soon with my regiment. In my
eagerness to go forward into the thickest, I pressed forward until reaching the
battery and even behind the stonewall, found myself among the 69th PA
Col. Owen’s men, and while I had no musket helped to lend them rifle.
I remember that each man of the 69th had five or six guns
loaded and when Pickett’s men advanced to within firing distance an officer,
jumped on this little stonewall an shouted “fire” and they did fire.
It was like grass before the mower, it seems incredible to mention it,
but men were piled two and three feet high, killed and wounded, and with the
moans and groans of the wounded and dying made it too horrid for words cannot
describe the scene,
After the charge
was over, it was my part as Sergeant Major to head a detail to gather up the
muskets of friend and foe and while doing so, met some fearful sights.
For instance, Sergeant John Guiness of Co. E who had charge of the
detail, responded to a poor fellow for a drink of water, leaned forward so as to
bring the canteen to his lips. Every
soldier and officer in the time of battle provides himself with at least a half
a canteen of water; the tape of the canteen is tied in a knot over the right
shoulder. The canteen kept close
under the left arm. This was done
to prevent it from spilling, for every drop is precious.
Lieutenant Alfred Newlin, who was temporary in command of my own Co F
called out during the battle. “I
will give five dollars for a canteen of water, but no one would give him any.”
With no disrespect to an officer, it was said, “Let him carry his own
water.” The dying men grasped Sergeant Guiness’s canteen with both hands and
drew him so close that their eyes glared into each other and their faces almost
met. It was the paroxyam of death.
Quick as thought Sergeant Guiness out with his knife, every soldier
carried a sharp knife and knew when and where to us it.
(can’t make out word) the tape of his canteen and left it in the hands
of the dead soldier and came quickly to tell me.
Sergeant Guiness was a brave soldier, but this was more then he could
bear, for he almost collapsed as he told me.
We must have gathered more then two thousand muskets as they were piled
four or five feet high and in front of our regiment, say about 50 to 75 feet
long. This was how we were employed
during the night and not having any sleep or rest, were in no condition to do
battle that day. I can remember
Cushing’s battery and the men who served it so well.
For our place was between the cannon that were belching forth its leaden
death and 24 caissons with ammunition for the cannon.
Saw officers, men and horses falling thick and fast, but do not remember
seeing Lieutenant Cushing fall.
While resting on
the morning of the 3rd of July, the Ambulance Corps were busy
bringing the wounded to me. Were
carrying a Rebel General, I remember a nice old man with a baldhead.
Some of our boys called out, “hello, Johnny?” He responded with
“hello Yanks” I thought you Rebs lads were all dead.
Thought that we had killed you all.”
With Picketts’ Charge and its disaster, the fighting was virtually
over. I did not think many got
back, as it did not go back as they came forward on the charge.
Whatever went back did so along the sides of the fields, which were
hedged with little bushed, and vines.
It was Lee’s intention to send his cavalry in our rear and with
simultaneous charge of Pickett, break our center and so whip us by detail.
Then press his army onto Philadelphia, then to New York and thus bring
the war to a close and us to sue for peace.
But as Robert Burns tells us “That the best laid plains of mice and men
sand aft a glee” and so Robert Lee, having had the greater part of his army
slaughtered. He looked about for a
way to escape. As for us, we were
tired, worn hungry, dirty and ragged. Myself,
the powder, the dirt and the sweat had begrimed me, and my pantaloons were torn
in shreds. I was not presentable.
The 4th of July opened up with a fearful thunder, lightening
and rainstorm. This added to our
discomfort. I went back of our
lines and found the 23rd Pa (can’t make out word) and saw
Lieutenant Harry Crease, also George Benvez told him that Sergeant Joseph
DeHaven was killed. The
Philadelphia Brigade was in the first line.
We 1st Regiment, 1st Division, 3rd
Corps, the second line and the 23rd Pennsylvania Regiment, Sixth
Corps. In the 3rd line,
went on until I came to a small house, which I was informed was General George
G. Meade, Commander of the Army of the Potomac, Headquarters.
In the yard at a draw well, I filled my canteen and beheld a fearful
sight, dead and dying men and horses lay thick upon the ground.
I hurried back to my Regiment. I
think it was on the 4th of July and while the rain was falling
heavily, I put two muskets with bayonets jabbed into the ground and a poncho
(oil cloth blanket) stretched from gun to gun, while holding one end and
Thomas P Wilkinson the other, we fell asleep.
Could not help it, we were dead for sleep.
| Shaun Grenan is a historian and Civil War reenactor from Detroit, MI who relocated to Gettysburg five years ago. Grenan reenacts with the 114th Pennsylvania Volunteers (Collis Zouaves) and also portrays Col. Elmer Ellsworth. He is the author of "So You Want To Be A Soldier: How To Get Started in Civil War Reenacting" and hosts several Civil War web sites. |