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.
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.
We did not occupy our old campground but were put in a new place. While returning, the weather became very cold. We had passed through a drenching rain with no tents, no blankets and scarcely any wood to make fires. William Craren of my company and myself laid under one blanket, but I could not sleep so I gave the blanket to William, while I walked to keep warm all night. The next day I was sick, and was on the sick list for 5 or 6 weeks. Dr. Cummings gave me cod liver oil. Then as a last resort, rubbing my breast with Croton Oil. This was painful but effected a care Thanks be to a Kindly Heavenly Father (John Folds Hospital Steward of Regiment attended to me)
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.
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 E. R 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 [...] 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.